My dress was cherry-coloured. It was one of David’s favourites and I had worn it for that reason. I had a passionate desire to please him all I could, because I was treating him so badly…
The Trents arrived. Evie, in a gown of blue silk and lace, looked quite beautiful, Dolly was in blue also—painfully thin and gauche. I wondered if she might hide her deformity by wearing a patch over her eye. Some patches could be quite ornamental. I remembered a picture I had seen of the Princess of Eboli who had lost an eye. She looked most decorative… mysterious and exciting with her patch.
Mrs. Trent was in purple velvet. It was a beautiful dress and she was really quite a handsome woman. Her manners betrayed her. If only she would be quieter!
“It’s so nice of you to ask us,” she was saying. “My word, this is a fine old place. Eversleigh! I remember it well, I know every nook and cranny. It takes me back to be here.” Her eyes were darting about; searching for Harry Farringdon, I guessed.
He had found Evie. I believed he had been waiting for her. Now he was talking to her. I was glad that I had arranged with my mother that they should be seated together at the table.
I noticed Dolly, who kept beside her grandmother, although her eyes were wistfully on Evie all the time. It occurred to me briefly that she might resent anyone’s taking Evie from her.
Sophie was with us for dinner. She and Sabrina would slip away immediately after we had eaten—Sabrina because she must retire early, and Sophie, I supposed, because she still felt ill-at-ease in company and would, in any case, wish to be with Jeanne.
The great table in the hall looked magnificent in the light from the candelabra. I wondered how many candles were burning in the hall that night. My mother sat at one end of the massive oak table, Dickon at the other. Jonathan was with Millicent, David was next to Mrs. Trent, and I had Jack Dolland on one side and Harry Farringdon on the other. I could hear him and Evie chatting together.
The meal lingered on. There were toasts to the guests and their returning ones to us; and everybody was very merry. A great deal of wine was drunk and food consumed; and at length the time came for the treasure hunt. My mother explained to the company that the hall would be cleared while the treasure hunt was taking place and then we should be ready for dancing.
“You will all work individually,” she explained. “No collusion! The first lady and the first gentleman to bring me the six written clues will win the prizes. Now I shall give you all one clue and that should lead you to the next. When you have found it, pick up the clue—there is one for everybody—and go on to the next. The first to bring me six clues wins, and when everyone is assembled here… having completed the exercise or given up in despair, I shall make the presentation. We are grateful to the weather. Thank goodness it’s a clear night. The moon will light your way.”
People went off in different directions. There was much murmuring and suppressed laughter in the gloom.
I found the first clue easily. Perhaps I knew the way my mother’s mind worked. Moreover, I knew the house well and could have found my way about blindfolded. I would tell my mother that members of the family had an advantage over visitors and should be handicapped.
I had mounted a staircase and was in a corridor when a hand came out and seized me. I was held tightly and kissed with fervour.
“Jonathan!” I whispered.
“I was waiting to catch you.”
The door of one of the rooms was open. He drew me in and shut the door.
“It seems so long,” he said.
I could see beyond him to where a shaft of moonlight fell on the court cupboard, which was close to the bed.
“Jonathan… please… we can’t stay here.”
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“No… No… Never again.”
He laughed softly.
“How many times have you said never and how many times have I proved you wrong?”
“It has to stop. I can’t bear it.”
“And I could not bear to stop.”
“We’ve got to, Jonathan.”
“Tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “They will go riding in the afternoon. You stay behind and go to the house. I’ll see you there. Dear old Enderby… in our room. You’ll be there, Claudine.”
“No… no,” I said.
“Yes, yes,” he whispered. “Three o’clock. Oh, my darling, I do long for you.”
I wrenched myself away. We could so easily betray ourselves. What if someone came into this room and found us here together? What if David…? We must stop. We were running too many risks.
I ran down the stairs.
My mother was in the hall.
“Don’t tell me you’ve found them already.”
“No. But it has occurred to me that the family have an advantage and it is not fair to the others. We ought to be handicapped or disqualified if we win.”
“I see your point,” said my mother. “Stay here then. You look flushed and hot anyway.”
So I stayed with her. I was afraid to wander through those darkened rooms and corridors in case I met Jonathan… in case we were seen together.
I realized to the full then how I should feel if David discovered my perfidy. He must never, never know. I must forget this infatuation. I must cut it right out of my life. It was so utterly foolish… so selfish to risk so much.
Evie was the first lady to finish and Harry the first man.
“I scent collusion,” I whispered to my mother.
“It’s understandable. Evie looks different. She looks really happy.”
Evie received the ivory fan adorned with hand-painted roses and Harry the pewter tankard. There was loud applause and by that time the hall was cleared for dancing and the music began.
According to tradition my mother opened the dancing with Dickon, and David and I immediately joined them on the floor. Harry and Evie danced together and Jonathan with Millicent.
Rather mechanically I went through the minuet and the cotillion, and in spite of my fears and resolutions, when I danced with Jonathan I felt the excitement surging up in me.
“I can’t wait until tomorrow afternoon,” he said.
“I can’t come.”
“You will,” he told me.
He was laughing, his blue eyes aflame; and I felt a rising resentment because he did not suffer remorse as I did. He was perfectly contented with what was taking place.
For the first time I began to wonder whether he enjoyed this situation because of the risks and that they added a fillip to his desire. Could he really enjoy deceiving his own brother, breaking the laws of honour and convention… and of religion? Was it then that my feelings underwent a change? I felt the same urgent desire; but rather naïvely I had imagined previously that he would feel the same as I did—carried away by passion, yes, but suffering remorse and a terrible regret that our emotions had forced us to behave in such a manner.
When the guests had all departed I was glad to retire to our bedroom.
David said: “You are very tired, Claudine.”
I replied that it had been a long day.
“I think it went well,” he continued. “Your mother certainly knows how to manage these affairs. It was very different here before she married my father.” He lay down beside me and said: “Isn’t it wonderful to see two people so much in accord as they are?”
“They spar a little.”
“It is all part of that relationship, that inability-to-live-without-each-other-ness. I am so happy that they came through safely and that he brought her home and they married. Moreover it has given my grandmother absolute contentment in her old age.”
He drew me to him.
“We shall be like that, Claudine, through the years.”
I clung to him and thought: He must never know. I would rather die than he should know.
He made tender love to me and there were tears on my cheeks.
“Claudine,” he asked, “what is it? Is something wrong?”
“Oh,
David,” I said, “I love you. I do love you.”
He kissed me, and after he slept I lay awake staring into the darkness.
Why had I let it happen? How could I deceive this good man?
Boxing Day, so called because those who had served us during the year called at the big house for what they called their “box,” which was, in fact, a gift of money.
Dickon and my mother were seated in the hall while the ceremony was in progress, and a party of us went over to Enderby, as Millicent insisted that we had promised to show her the house.
There were myself, David, Millicent, Jonathan, Lord and Lady Pettigrew, and Gwen and John Farringdon with Harry. David had the key and when he opened the door and we went into the hall there were exclamations of amazement. It looked different by morning light. A little wintry sun shone through the windows and the place had lost something of that melancholy look; there was still an eeriness about it, though; that was something which could never completely disappear, I was sure.
Millicent said: “Is that the haunted gallery?”
“It is said to be so,” replied David.
“Something awful happened there, I daresay. I’m glad I’m not alone here. Then I should feel positively scared.”
“No need to,” replied Jonathan, smiling at her. “There’s a strong arm here ready to defend you from spectres with countless clanging chains and myriads of moaning ghosts.”
“Stay close to me,” commanded Millicent.
“No need to ask me that.”
It was ridiculous to feel hurt by his light bantering with Millicent, but I did.
David was saying: “What a change! That carpenter is very good. He’ll have the place in fair order within a few weeks, I’ll swear.”
“Aunt Sophie is very eager to move in,” I said.
“Poor soul,” murmured Gwen Farringdon. “Such an affliction! It has affected her deeply, hasn’t it?”
Lady Pettigrew said briskly: “A great misfortune. But such trials must be faced and she is fortunate to have escaped from those dreadful French peasants. I hope she is suitably grateful to you.” She beamed approval on Jonathan. “Now she can build a future for herself and it is a mercy this house is so near Eversleigh.”
It had always amazed me how people like Lady Pettigrew made so little of the misfortunes of those about them, and I could not help wondering whether she would be quite so dismissive of her own.
We mounted the stairs and went into the minstrels’ gallery. Now that the heavy red curtains had been taken down for cleaning and renovation it had lost much of that mysterious look.
Jonathan came up behind Millicent and said: “Boo!”
She jumped and turned round smiling at him. “You’re determined to scare me.”
“And I did,” he said. “Admit it.”
“Not with all these people about me.”
“Ah, but if they hadn’t been here…” He was laughing at her.
“You mean if I had been here alone with you! That’s not likely, is it?”
“Alas!” he said, with mock resignation.
I thought: That is how he is. That is how he is with me… and with every woman.
We went along the corridors and he opened the door of that room in which we had made such passionate love.
“Much of the furniture was already here, I believe,” said Gwen Farringdon.
“It went with the house,” David told her.
“What a gift! It will not need such a great deal more.”
“This is a nice room. I like this,” said Millicent. She went to the bed and sat down on it; then she lifted her feet and lay full length on it.
“It’s quite comfortable,” she said.
“I feel sure of that,” murmured Jonathan; he caught my eye and the corner of his mouth twitched a little.
I did not feel like sharing the joke. To me it was no joke. It was deadly serious.
We went over the house and found ourselves in the kitchens, which were vast and stone-floored.
There was one moment when Jonathan and I were alone; the others had gone through the screens and he and I stood a little way in the hall.
He caught my hand and said: “This afternoon.”
I shook my head.
He came closer and kissed me. I wanted to protest but I did not. It appalled me that he still had the power to charm me.
I was glad when the tour of the house was over and we came out into the fresh air.
We walked back across the fields and everyone was talking about Enderby, what a fascinating house it was, and how fortunate Sophie had been to have such a bargain fall into her hands.
“It is a pity all French émigrés are not so fortunate,” said Lady Pettigrew.
“She was so lucky to get away with her jewels,” said Millicent.
“And her life,” added Lord Pettigrew.
“She has Jonathan to thank for that,” David reminded them.
“How wonderful!” said Millicent, smiling at Jonathan.
“Oh it was simple,” he said lightly. “We went over and we came out with Mademoiselle Sophie and her maid and the clever creature had sewed the jewels in their garments and didn’t tell me until we were crossing the Channel.”
“It’s no use your trying to pretend it wasn’t marvellous,” said Millicent sternly. “You are really very brave.”
“I am a very perfect gentle knight,” said Jonathan. “I deserve all your adulation, and most gratefully accept it… and shall probably beg for more. It is a commodity I have a great fancy for. You cannot give me too much of it.”
Millicent slipped her arm through his. She was a little forward, I supposed, for the manners of our day, but her mother showed no sign of disapproving, which told me that the redoubtable Lady Pettigrew smiled on Jonathan as a future son-in-law.
I was restless and uncertain. I wanted to see Jonathan alone. I wanted to tell him that there must be no more love-making between us. I wanted to ask him what his feelings were for Millicent Pettigrew, and if that state of bantering flirtation which seemed to exist between them had any meaning behind it.
I had said I would not be at the rendezvous that afternoon but I was making excuses to myself. I wanted to talk to him, I kept assuring myself. I wanted to stress that our dangerous relationship must cease.
Or did I merely want to be with him? Did I know in my heart that once we were alone in that room, once he held me close to him, I would give way as I had before?
I watched them go off riding. I said I had certain things to do and could not join them. Jonathan waved to me as he rode off. His plan was to lose them as quickly as he could, return to the stables and leave his horse there, for it would be dangerous to tether it outside the house where it could be seen. It would not take him long to hurry across the fields.
In spite of having promised myself not to go, I set out.
I must talk to him, I must, I kept saying to myself.
That was my excuse.
I was a few minutes early. I hesitated at the door. My inclination was to wait outside, but that was foolish. What if someone passed by and saw me waiting there? Still, I hesitated. Was I afraid of an old house? To show myself that I was not, I took the key from my pocket, opened the door and went in, shutting it behind me. When he came, Jonathan would ring the bell. It was a little rusty, but it worked.
I advanced into the hall. Certainly it had changed and the minstrels’ gallery without its curtains looked quite ordinary. I could not imagine any ghosts hiding there now. It was all a matter of shadows and darkness. How right David had been about those overgrown shrubs. They had not been dealt with yet and Sophie had indicated that they would only be trimmed, so she would still retain some of the old house’s atmosphere.
I ran up the stairs to that room which I looked upon as ours.
I stood in it and thought of the first time. It had happened so swiftly that it had caught me unaware, and then once it had happened I was trapped; and it had been so easy, having made t
he first step, to go on.
How silent the house was!
Hurry, Jonathan, I thought.
Then I heard that voice… that whisper, preceded by a little laugh, and then: “Mrs. Frenshaw… remember the seventh commandment, Mrs. Frenshaw.”
I stood there stunned. For some seconds I could not move. I was straining my ears listening. There was no sound… nothing but that frightening silence.
I ran out of the room and as I reached the stairs the door bell was clanging through the house. I ran down and opened the door.
Jonathan was there. He caught me in his arms. “What’s wrong? What is it, Claudine?”
“I heard it again,” I said. “The voice…”
“Voice? Where?”
“In the room. Our room.”
“There’s no one here…”
“I heard it. I heard it distinctly.”
“Come on. We’ll have a look,” he said.
He put his arm round me and I clung to him. We ran up the stairs.
There was no one there.
He looked at me puzzled. “What was it like?”
“It was the way it was before… Echoing… Strangely muted.”
“You mean as if someone were trying to disguise the voice?”
“I don’t know. It laughed after it had said it. ‘Remember the seventh commandment.’”
“What nonsense!”
“But it’s apt, isn’t it? The voice… it knows.”
“My dear Claudine, I simply do not believe in disembodied voices.”
“I tell you I heard it… distinctly. Just as I heard it before.”
“Then there is someone here.”
“But how could it be… in that room?”
“Is that the only place where you have heard this voice?”
I nodded.
“Come on,” he said. “We’re going to look.”
We went into all the rooms, up to the next floor and the attics. Then we went down through the hall to the kitchens. It was as I guessed it would be—empty.
We were the only ones in the house.
Voices in a Haunted Room Page 16
