He stood up.
My mother said: “Not now, surely.”
But he had gone out. I heard him riding out of the stables.
I said: “He is in a great rage.”
My mother was silent.
“I hate those traps,” I said. “I’d like to stop them. But why is he so angry?”
She did not answer. But I could see she was very shaken.
The next day there was terrible trouble. The owner of the trap was found. He was Jacob Rook. My father dismissed him. He was to take everything and go. My father would not have his orders ignored.
It was most distressing, for when the people on the land were dismissed they not only lost their work but their homes. Jacob and Mary Rook had lived for fifteen years on the Eversleigh estate in one of the small cottages which now belonged to my father.
They had a month to get out.
We were all very upset. Jacob was a good worker; Mary often helped in the house, and I hated to think my father could be so cruel.
It was terrible when Mary came to the house and cried; she kept clinging to my mother and begging her to let them stay. My mother was very unhappy; she said she would speak to my father.
I had never seen him like this before. I had not realised he could be so hard.
“Please,” I begged, “overlook it this once. He’ll never do it again.”
“I will be obeyed,” said my father. “I gave special orders and Jacob Rook deliberately disobeyed them.”
He was adamant and there was nothing we could do.
I blamed myself for saying where I had found the mastiff. I had not thought it would be so important.
In a day or so the bitch was healed enough for her to limp about. I fed her on the best I could get and it was clear that she had taken a fancy to me, but my joy in the adventure had gone because of the Rooks.
Two days after I had found the dog I was riding past Grasslands Manor when I saw Elizabeth Pilkington in the garden. She called to me. “I have been meaning to send a messenger over to you. I wanted you to come and visit me. I have someone who very much wants to see you.”
As she spoke Matthew Pilkington came out of the house.
He hurried over to me, took my hand and kissed it.
He looked very elegant but not so fancifully dressed as he had been in London. He wore high leather boots and knee-length jacket of dark blue frogged with black braid. I thought he was even more handsome than when I had last seen him.
“How delightful to see you again,” he said. “You must come in, must she not, mother?”
Elizabeth Pilkington said that I must indeed do so.
I dismounted and went into the house.
I was tingling with pleasure at the sight of him. He seemed different from the young men of the neighbourhood whom I met from time to time. It was that air of immense sophistication which hung about him and which I had never noticed in other people. I suppose it was due to his living so much of his life in London
He had been with the army overseas for a spell, he said, and then he had gone back to his estates in Dorset for a while. “One cannot neglect them for too long,” he added.
“You’ve grown up since we last met,” he commented.
Then his mother said: “Matthew has had one great unhappiness since he arrived here. He has lost a favourite dog.”
I stood up in my excitement and cried: “A mastiff bitch?”
“Yes,” said Matthew. “How did you know?”
I started to laugh. “Because I found her.”
“You found her? Where is she?”
“Reclining in a basket in my bedroom at the moment. She was caught in a trap. I found her, took her home and dressed her wound. She is recovering very nicely.”
Matt’s eyes were beaming with delight.
“Well, that is wonderful. I am so grateful to you. Belle is my favourite dog.”
“She is a beautiful dog,” I said. “Poor dear, she has been very sorry for herself.”
“And grateful to you … as I am.” He had taken my hand and kissed it.
“Oh,” I said blushing, “it was nothing. I would never pass by an animal in distress.”
Elizabeth Pilkington was smiling at us benignly. “This is the most wonderful news,” she said. “You’ve been our good angel, Damaris.”
“I am doubly glad for Belle’s sake. I could see that she was no stray. She is used to the very best.”
“She’s a good faithful creature. Not so young now but you couldn’t find a braver and more devoted guard.”
“I know well her qualities. I am so glad to have restored her to you.”
“If you hadn’t discovered her …”
“Who knows what would have happened? People hardly ever go to that land. In fact … there is great trouble because Jacob Rook set a trap there.”
“Which land is it?” asked Elizabeth.
“It’s close to Enderby. It was Enderby land at one time. My father bought it. He has some plans for it but at the moment it is strictly out of bounds. I call it the Forbidden Wood.” I turned to Matt. “Your dog will be able to walk tomorrow, I think. I’ll bring her back to you then.”
“That’s wonderful. How can we ever thank her?” he asked his mother.
“Damaris doesn’t need to be told how much we appreciate what she has done. She knows it. She would have done the same for any little hedgerow sparrow.”
I rode home in an exalted mood which I realised was not only due to the fact that I had found the dog’s owner and that he should be Matthew Pilkington; it was largely because Matt had come back.
My pleasure was dampened as I went in by the sight of Mary Rook in the kitchen, her eyes swollen with crying. She gave me a reproachful look. I was the one who had discovered the trap and reported where it was found. Had I known what my father’s reaction would have been I should have kept quiet, but it was no use telling Mary that now.
I did not mention the fact that I had found the dog’s owner and who he was at the supper table, for the dog was a subject we did not now discuss in front of my father; he was still in an angry and unrelenting mood; and I believe suffering because of it.
I did say to my mother as we were going upstairs for the night, “By the way, Matthew Pilkington is paying a visit to his mother, and, do you know, the dog is his.”
“How strange,” she said quietly.
She did not seem overjoyed.
The next day I took the dog over to Grasslands. There was no mistaking her joy to see her master again. She barked in ecstasy; nuzzled up to him while he knelt and fondled her. I stood watching them. I think I fell in love with him at that moment.
One can fall in love quite deeply at fourteen—and I should soon be fifteen. Mistress Leveret had said to my mother that in some ways I was old for my years. I was serious; and I believe I had an intense desire to be loved. All people have, of course, but I had been so overshadowed by Carlotta, so much aware of her superiority, that I supposed I needed it more than most.
To have someone’s attention directed on me was rare. I revelled in it.
Matthew and I had so much in common. He loved his horses and his dogs even as I did mine. We could talk about them for hours. We loved to ride; I felt I could even take an interest in clothes, which he seemed to care so much about. I had never bothered with them much before. I had always known that however grand my gown, Carlotta would look so much more attractive in the simplest garment.
All that was changed since Carlotta went away. I missed her; I longed sometimes to be with her. And yet I could not have this sense of being a person in my own right, capable of living excitingly, if she were here. Matt made me feel that I was interesting. He was delighted that I had saved his dog. He was sure the beautiful creature would have died if she had been left in the trap. It had been wonderful for me to have saved her for him, he kept telling me.
Elizabeth joined us and Belle settled down leaning against Matt’s knees and looking at me with an expressio
n of affection in her soulful eyes.
It came out in conversation that my father had discovered who had set the trap and that he was very angry about it. He had forbidden any of them to go to that particular spot.
“It’s very wild and overgrown, is it not?” said Elizabeth. “Why does he shut it off like that?”
“It’s some plan he has for it, I think. He is very annoyed that Jacob Rook should have disobeyed him. In fact he has dismissed the man.”
“Wherever will he go?” asked Elizabeth.
I looked wretched and she said: “Oh, poor man … I know he did wrong to disobey his master … and I hate the thought of traps—they’re cruel—but for such a small offence …”
“It isn’t like my father,” I said. “He has always been so kind to all the people who work for him. He has a reputation for being just and good to them. Even more so than my grandfather, who could often be harsh, but father … Anyway he is firm about this.”
“Poor Jacob!” said Elizabeth.
A few days later I saw Mary Rook at the pump in the garden. She had changed completely. She was smiling almost truculently.
I felt very happy, believing that my father had relented. He only wanted to give them a warning, I told myself. He let them think that they were dismissed for a day or two and then had taken them back. He felt so strongly about complete obedience that he had considered it necessary.
“You look pleased with life, Mary,” I said. “Is everything all right now?”
“You might say that, mistress,” she replied.
“I knew my father would forgive you.”
“Master be a hard man,” she said through tight lips.
“But it’s all right now, you say?”
“We’ra off. There’s other places in the world besides this ’ere Dower House, mistress.”
I was amazed. “What … what do you mean?”
“There be Grasslands, mistress, that where we be going. Mistress there have places for us both.”
Mary tossed her head. A smirk of triumph was on her face.
I turned away and went into the house.
Well, I thought, it was good of Elizabeth. But it would make an awkward situation between our families—living so close together as they did.
Through the June and July that followed I saw a great deal of Matt. They were enchanted months for me. We discovered so much that we had in common. He knew a great deal about birds and we used to lie in the fields quietly watching for hours at a stretch. The birds had ceased to sing so joyously because they were busy with the young, though the wren and the chiffchaff now and then made themselves heard and the cuckoo was still announcing his presence. Matt taught me a good deal and I loved to learn from him. We took Belle for long walks and sometimes when we rode out she would follow us; she liked to trot beside the horses and run with us when we cantered and galloped, until she tired. He was always reminding her that she was no longer a puppy. Sometimes we rode down to the sea and walked along the shingle. We explored the pools for sea anemones and sometimes we took off our shoes and paddled, looking for all the curious little creatures which inhabited the shallow water. We had to be watchful and look out for dragonets and weevers. Matt showed me what looked like a three-bladed knife on either side of the dragonet’s head, and the weever was even more deadly, with spines on its back which could be poisonous.
They were such happy days for me.
Once I overheard my grandmother say to my mother: “He looks upon her just as a child. He must be at least seven or eight years older than she is.”
My mother replied: “She is such a child, but I think she may be seeing too much of him.”
I was very much afraid that they were going to try to stop our meetings, but I suppose they thought he would go away in due course, and as I was so young they could let our friendship come to a natural conclusion.
One day we passed by Enderby Hall and, as usual, paused to look at it. There was something impelling about the house which made most people do that.
“It’s a delightful house,” said Matt. “I was sorry my mother didn’t take it.”
“Are you still sorry?” I asked.
“No, not now she has Grasslands. That’s as near to Eversleigh Dower House as Enderby.”
I glowed with pride when he said things like that.
“I’d like to have a look at it again,” he said. “I saw it once when my mother was considering taking it.”
“That’s easily done. The keys are at Eversleigh. I’ll get them tomorrow and take you over the house.”
“I should enjoy that.”
“We will go in the afternoon—not too late. We want to see it before dusk.”
“Ah, you mean when the ghosts come out. Are you scared of ghosts, Damaris?”
“I shouldn’t be if you were there.”
He turned to me and lightly kissed my brow. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “I’d protect you from all the perils and dangers of the day and night.”
He did little things like that. He had great charm. But he did them lightly and naturally and I sometimes wondered how deeply he meant them.
The outcome was that I took the key from the desk where it was kept at Eversleigh and met him the next afternoon at the gates of Enderby Hall.
Belle was with him.
“She so wanted to come,” he said, “I hadn’t the heart to refuse her. She must have known I was meeting you.”
She leapt round me showing her pleasure. I patted her and told her how glad I was that she had come.
I took out the keys and we went through the gardens to the front porch. The garden had been kept in some order. Jacob Rook had been one of the men who had looked after it. I thought, it will have to be someone else now. The house was of red Tudor brick built like so many of its era with its central hall and a wing on either side. The creeper covered large portions of the wall. It looked lovely with the red bricks showing through the green glistening leaves—but not really as beautiful as it would look later in the autumn when the leaves were in the full glory of their russety colours.
“If we cut back the creeper it would be much lighter inside,” I commented.
“You would detract from the ghostly atmosphere,” said Matt.
“Well, that might be a good idea.”
“No. You’d take away its aura of mystery.”
We stepped into the hall. Matt looked up at the magnificent vaulted ceiling.
“It’s lovely,” he said.
“Look. There’s the haunted gallery.”
“That’s where the minstrels used to play.”
“It’s the scene of the tragedy. One owner hanged herself there … or tried to. The rope was too long and she injured herself and was an invalid and suffered a great deal before she died.”
“Is she the ghost?”
“I believe there are others. But that’s the story which is always told.”
Belle was running about the hall, sniffing in corners. She found the place as exciting as Matt obviously did.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.
“It has a lived-in look,” said Matt.
“That’s because it is furnished. Carlotta wouldn’t have the furniture taken away.”
“Carlotta seems to be a very determined young lady.”
“Oh, she is.”
“I should like to meet her. I daresay I shall one day.”
“If you stay here long enough, yes. We visit them and they come here. I’m longing to see Clarissa.”
“I thought her name was Carlotta.”
“That’s my sister. Clarissa is her baby. The dearest little girl in the whole world.”
“All baby girls are that, Damaris.”
“I know, but this one really is,” I sighed. “Carlotta is so lucky.”
“To have this incomparable little girl, you mean?”
“Yes, that and to be Carlotta.”
“Is she so very fortunate?”
“Carlotta has everythi
ng that anyone could want. Beauty, a fortune, a husband who loves her …”
“And …”
I interrupted. “You were going to say, ‘And Clarissa.’ ”
“No, I was going to say and a charming sister who admires her enormously.”
“Everyone admires her.”
We had come up to the minstrels’ gallery and Matt went inside.
“It is rather dark,” he called out. “It’s chilly too. It’s those curtains. They’re beautiful but a bit sombre.”
Belle followed him into the gallery … and was sniffing round.
I said: “Come and see the rooms upstairs.”
He followed me. We went through the bedrooms and came to the one with the big four-poster bed hung with red velvet curtains. I immediately remembered that I had seen Carlotta there one day-lying there talking to herself. I had never forgotten it.
“An interesting room,” said Matt.
“Yes, it’s the biggest of the bedrooms.”
At that moment we heard Belle barking furiously somewhere below.
We found her in the gallery. She was in a state of some excitement. She was staring at the floor and barking as she scratched at the floorboards as though she would tear them up. There was a gap between the boards at that point and she seemed as though she was trying to get at something down there.
Matt knelt and put his eye to the crack.
“It looks as though there is something bright down there. It must have caught her eye.”
He put his hand on Belle’s head and shook it gently. “Come on, you silly old girl. It’s nothing down there.”
She responded to his caress but would not be put off. She was trying to lift the board with her paw.
Matt stood up.
“Well, it’s an interesting place,” he said. “I’ll agree it has something which Grasslands lacks. But I would say Grasslands is more cosy. Come on, Belle.”
We started down the stairs, Belle following us with some reluctance. We stood in the hall and paused for a while to look up at the roof and as we paused Belle was off.
“She’s gone back to the gallery,” said Matt. “She’s very single-minded, is Belle. She was my father’s dog once. He used to say that when she gets a notion in her head she doesn’t let go lightly.”
Song of the Siren Page 16
