The Adulteress

Jessie

LONG AGO I HAD been to Eversleigh Court and vaguely remembered it. I must have spent many Christmases there when I was a child because it had always been the center of the family. When the old people died and my mother went to live permanently in the country after the death of my father, we had not visited the old house. General Eversleigh, who had been fond of my mother, and who had in fact introduced my father into the family in the first place, had taken over the management of the estate for a while, but that other Carl—Lord Eversleigh’s son—was the real heir to the estate as well as to the title, and when the general had died Carl Lord Eversleigh must have felt in duty bound to come back—I was not sure from where—and settle at Eversleigh.

My excitement was intense. I had during the journey been trying to look back and remember what I had heard about the family who had inhabited the great house during its heyday. I recalled there was a lot of talk about Enderby, that house of gloom which was wrapped in a kind of supernatural mystery. I had decided I would take a look at it at the first opportunity, but in the meantime here was Eversleigh Court.

A high wall loomed up in front of us. The gates were open; I thought this must be to welcome us. We rode through. It was too dark to see the house clearly, but memories of long ago came flooding back and the vague feeling of familiarity was comforting.

There was no sound from the house. Then I caught sight of flickering light in one of the upper windows. There was a dark shadow there. Someone must have been standing there holding a candle and looking out—perhaps awaiting our arrival.

I was rather surprised that the great door remained closed, as we must have been expected, and the sound of the horses must have been heard on the gravel of the drive.

We waited a few moments for the grooms to come and take the horses, but no one came and the house remained in darkness,

I said: “As we’re so late they must have thought we wouldn’t arrive tonight. Ring the bell. That will let them know we’re here.”

One of the grooms dismounted and did as I bid. I remembered the bell from long ago. It had always fascinated me and I used to enjoy pulling the rope and listening to the clamor it made throughout the house.

I sat on my horse, looking at the door, waiting for the moment when it would be flung open and someone would appear to welcome us.

There was silence when the bell ceased to clang. I began to feel a little uneasy. This was not the welcome I had expected from Lord Eversleigh’s letters.

At last the door opened. A young woman stood there. I could not see her very clearly but she struck me immediately as being something of a slattern.

“What you be wanting?” she demanded.

I said: “I am Mistress Zipporah Ransome. Lord Eversleigh is expecting me.”

The woman looked amazed. I thought she was half-witted. I tried to peer behind her but the hall was not lighted and there was only the dim glow from the one candle which she had set down when she unbolted the door.

One of my grooms held my horse while I dismounted and approached the door.

“Lord Eversleigh is expecting me,” I said. “Take me to him. Who is in charge of the household?”

“That would be Mistress Jessie,” she said.

“Then will you please call Mistress Jessie? In the meantime I will come in. Where are the stables? My grooms are tired and hungry. Is there someone who can help with the horses?”

“There’s Jethro. I’ll get Mistress Jessie.”

“Please do so … quickly,” I answered, “because we have had a long journey.”

She was about to shut the door but I held it open and, as she scuttled away, stepped into the hall.

She had left her candle on the long oak table and it threw a rather eerie light about the place.

It occurred to me that there was something very strange going on here. I kept thinking of what Sabrina had said: “Calling for help!” It did not seem so very incongruous now.

I was startled by what appeared to be an apparition, for at the head of the stairs a figure had appeared. It was a woman, and in her hand was a candelabrum which she held high, striking a pose like a figure in some stage drama. In the flickering candlelight she looked amazingly handsome. She was tall, plump, but shapely and about her neck glittered what could be diamonds. They also glistened at her wrists and on her fingers—so many of them that I could see them even as she stood there in only the light from the candles.

She moved down the staircase in a stately fashion.

She wore a wig of luxuriant curls, very fair—golden, in fact—with one curl hanging over her left shoulder. Her hooped skirt stood out round her like a bell and it was of plum-colored velvet, cut away in the front to show the very ornate petticoat of bluish mauve with white flowers embroidered on it. She was clearly a very grand lady and I could not imagine what her position in the house could be. As she came nearer I saw that the dazzling complexion had been applied rather too heavily to be natural and she wore a small black patch just beneath her large, rather protruding, blue eyes and another one beside her heavily rouged mouth.

I said: “I am Zipporah Ransome. Lord Eversleigh was eager that I should come to see him. He knew I was to arrive today. We are a little late, I know. One of the horses had to be shod.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed; she looked puzzled and I went on hastily: “Surely I am expected.”

“I knew nothing of this,” said the woman. Her accent was overgenteel and but for her clothes I would have thought she must be a housekeeper.

“I don’t think I’ve heard who you are,” I said. “Could you … ?”

“I am Mistress Stirling. They call me Mistress Jessie. I have been looking after Lord Eversleigh for the past two years.”

“Looking after him … ?”

She smiled almost deprecatingly. “You might call me a sort of housekeeper.”

“Oh, I see. And did he not tell you that he had invited me to come?”

“I never knew it.” Her voice had lost a little of its assumed refinement. She was clearly annoyed at the omission and perhaps a little suspicious too.

“Well,” I said, “this must be rather awkward. Perhaps I could see him.”

She was thinking quickly. “You say you are Mistress Ransome?”

“Yes, I gather I am his nearest of kin … or at least my mother is. Lord Eversleigh is the son of my great-great-grandmother. I think that’s right. It goes back rather a long way.”

“And you say he wrote to you?”

“Yes … several letters. He asked me to come and see him. He was so insistent. So I promised and I was expected today. Could you take me to him?”

She said: “I’ve settled him down for the night. He is a very old man, you know.”

“Yes, I do know that. But as he is expecting me he will be wondering why I am not here.”

She shook her head. “You must be prepared. He has probably forgotten he invited you, as he told me nothing of it. He is not always very clear in his head, do you understand me?”

“Well, I did know that he was very old. Oh dear … perhaps I should not have come.”

She laid her hand on my arm, familiarly, almost as a friend might do—certainly not as a housekeeper would; but it was beginning to dawn on me that she was implying she was no ordinary housekeeper.

“Now don’t say that,” she said almost archly. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll get a bed aired for you and I daresay you would like something to eat.”

“Yes,” I said. “I would indeed. And so would the grooms. There are six of them, no, seven including one with the saddlebags.”

“My word. Quite a retinue, eh?”

She had relaxed. She gave the impression of one who has come face to face with a difficult situation and has decided how to deal with it.

“Well, I’ll give orders, eh? … and we’ll get you settled and in the morning you can see his lordship.”

“But shouldn’t he be told that I have arrived?”

“I reckon he’s sleeping like a baby now. I’ll tell you what. I’ll go and see … I’ll peep in, shall I? … and if he’s awake I’ll tell him. If he’s sleeping, you wouldn’t want me to wake him, I’m sure. He takes a bit of time to get off sometimes.”

Her manner had completely changed; shocked surprise had been replaced by a familiar air which was almost patronizing. She was behaving as though she were mistress of the house but at the same time as no well-bred mistress would dream of behaving. I was aware of a slight sound, and turning sharply, thought I saw something move at the top of the staircase. It was not easy to see, for the candles gave only the dimmest of lights. We were being watched. I wondered by whom. Since I had stepped into this house I was prepared for anything.

“Now first of all it’s food, eh,” said the woman. “They’ll be clearing away in the kitchens. You should have been here when supper was served. We could have treated you proud then. Well, they’ll find something and I’ll have them get a room ready for you. Now you come in here and give me just a minute or two and I’ll have you and them grooms of yours all fed and bedded down in next to no time. How’s that?”

I said: “Thank you. I’ll go out and tell the grooms to go to the stables, shall I?”

“No, you’d better stay here. I’ll see to it.” She started to shout: “Jenny! Moll! Where are you? Come here at once, you lazy young sluts.”

She smiled at me. “I have to keep my eyes on ’em,” she explained. “There’d be nothing done if I don’t. Place would be going to rack and ruin like it was when I come here.”

She was speaking easily, naturally, now, in the manner, I expected, to which she was accustomed.

Two girls came running in.

“Now, you two,” she said, “… I want a room got ready for this lady here. She’s come visiting his lordship … who didn’t see fit to tell us … doubtless he forgot it, poor old pet. Now, Moll, out to the stables. … Call Jethro … tell him to take in the horses and arrange for the men to be given somewhere to sleep and a bite to eat. We can sort all this out in the morning. Now, Mistress … what did you say your name was?”

“Mistress Ransome,” I said.

“Now, Mistress Ransome, if you’ll step into this winter parlor I’ll have something sent in for you to eat while they get your room ready. Dear, dear, what a to-do, and all he had to do was tell me.”

I was taken into a room which I remembered we used for meals when there were a few of us. Yes, they had called it the winter parlor.

I sat down uneasily. It was all so different from what I had expected.

Of course, I told myself, it would all have been so different if that horse had not cast a shoe and we had arrived at a reasonable time. Then Lord Eversleigh would not have gone to bed. He would have given me the welcome I was expecting. After all, it had been his idea that I should come. Delays on the road were frequent—any little mishap could mean delay. I guessed he had thought we would arrive tomorrow. It was odd, though, that, he had had no preparations made for our stay.

I sat down and one of the maids came in to light the candelabrum.

I said to her: “Have you been here long?”

“About two years, my lady.”

“The same as Mistress … Stirling.”

“Yes, soon after her. We were most of us new then.”

She looked at me apologetically and hurried out. All new when Mistress Stirling came. This was becoming a rather strange situation.

A maid, accompanied by Mistress Stirling, came in bringing a tray on which were cold venison and a piece of pie.

Mistress Stirling, whom I had begun to think of as Jessie, laid the tray on the table; I was very hungry but ever more curious. When the maid had gone Jessie sat opposite me and, leaning her arms on the table, stared at me while I ate.

“When did his lordship write to you?” she asked.

“Some weeks ago. It was to my mother that he wrote, as a matter of fact.”

“To your mother … asking for you to visit.” She gave rather a nervous giggle. “Did he say what for?”

“Oh well … we are of the same family. I suppose he felt it was a pity we did not meet more often.”

A man put his head round the door.

“You’m wanting me, Mistress Jessie.”

“Oh, Jethro,” she said. “This lady’s come a visiting his lordship. One of his relations, she says.”

“I am one of his closest living relations,” I said. “My name is Zipporah Ransome … Clavering, that was.”

“Why, bless me,” said the old man, “if it’s not Miss Zipporah. I remember you well when you used to come to Eversleigh. Christmas, wasn’t it? … and sometime there be summer holidays and winter ones too. I can remember you, miss, as a little ’un. Good little thing you was.”

I was more relieved. The situation was becoming more natural. I remembered him now. He was Jethro, who had been in charge of the horses—head groom, I suppose one would call him. He had always been a favorite of mine because I had loved horses.

“Why, Jethro,” I cried, standing up, and we clasped hands.

“Ah, ’tis good to see you here, Miss Zipporah. It must be years … And you a married lady now. Well, time do fly … and no mistake. And you’ve come to see his lordship?”

“Jethro,” said Jessie. “I think you should go and make sure those grooms are settled. Have you given them something to eat?”

“Well, there’s naught but bread and cheese and ale at this time of night. But they’m having some of that in the kitchen.”

“And you can find somewhere for them to sleep.”

Jethro nodded.

“I’ll see ’ee tomorrow, perhaps, Mistress Zipporah.”

He was looking at me earnestly and I, because of the strangeness of my reception, had the notion that he wanted to tell me something.

He went out.

“Gives himself airs because he’s been here so long,” said Jessie. “Some of them old codgers do. They fancy you can’t do without them. Well, his lordship for some reason thinks a powerful lot of Jethro.”

“We all did … I remember. So much is coming back to me now I’m here.”

“Well, get a good night’s rest, eh. I popped in to see his lordship but he’s sleeping like a baby. Once he wakes he’d never get to sleep again and then we’d have a fidgety old man the next day, I can promise you.”

“Is he … very much of an … invalid?”

“Lord bless you, no. Just feeble. Needs someone always at his elbow. That’s where I come in. Is that pie good? It should be eaten straight from the oven, you know.”

I said it was very good.

“I always like my victuals,” confided Jessie. “And when you’ve finished … I’ll have some hot water sent up and you can snuggle down, eh. You must be just about worn out.”

I admitted that I should be pleased to have a night’s rest.

“So you shall.” She was smiling at me benignly and somehow such benignity sat ill on her features, for there was a sharp glint in her eyes which I found rather disconcerting. I should be glad when morning came, for I thought then I should be able to throw some light on the meaning of this strange reception.

Jessie herself took me up to my room. Memories of the house came back to me. I could vaguely remember the days of its grandeur. I had a feeling that it was rather different now.

Jessie threw open a door.

“Oh, here we are. They’ve made up the bed.” She went to it and drew back the coverlet. “The warming pan’s in. I have to watch them girls. My goodness me, they’d lead us a nice dance if I didn’t. I’ve got an eye like a hawk. His lordship says to me: ‘I don’t know what we’d do without you, Jess.’ I will say he’s not a man to take things for granted. He knows what I do and he wants me to know he does … if you get my meaning.” She was growing more and more familiar and was developing a habit of putting out a hand and giving me a gentle little push as she spoke. I found it repulsive and wanted to tell her to get out, while on the other hand I wanted to keep her there for more unusual revelations which I felt sure were to come.

The room was well furnished with a four-poster bed, court cupboard, a dressing table on which was a looking glass.

“There’s the hot water. No need to send it down when you’ve finished. They’ll take it in the morning.”

“Thank you.”

“Right you are. See you in the morning. Sleep well.”

“Thank you.”

She gave me another of those gentle little pushes and was gone.

Alone in the room, the strangeness of everything occupied my thoughts. I went to the door at once and the fact that there was no key in the lock dismayed me. I wondered how I should sleep in this strange atmosphere. I had come to the conclusion that I must be prepared for anything, however unusual.

Why did Lord Eversleigh employ such a woman as Jessie? Moreover, she seemed to have such power. The manner in which she behaved suggested that she might be the mistress of the house. And surely he should have given instructions that I was to arrive.

I was physically exhausted but my mind was so ill at ease that I knew I should find it difficult to sleep.

I went to the window. I could see nothing. It was so dark outside. I longed for sunrise. Whatever was happening would surely seem more reasonable then.

I saw that my bags had been brought up, and I hoped the grooms were feeling more comfortable than I was.

I unpacked one of the bags and took out my night things. What I must do was get to bed and to sleep, for there was nothing more I could do till morning.

I washed and undressed. I removed the warming pan and got into bed. I sunk into the luxury of feathers and felt almost drowsy in spite of everything, but just as I was dozing I would wake startled and sit up in bed listening. I realized that I was going to have a bad night. Well, I was prepared for that.

It must have been about an hour later when I heard a light footstep outside my room. I turned my eyes toward the door. I was sure someone was standing outside. It was a little lighter in the room now. The clouds had cleared and my eyes had accustomed to the darkness and as they turned to the door I saw the handle slowly turning.

“Come in,” I called.

The handle no longer moved. There was silence. I sat up in bed, my heart beating so fast that I could hear it. Then I thought I detected the sound of retreating footsteps. I opened the door and looked out but I could see nothing.

The incident was certainly not conducive to sleep. I lay there listening.

It must have been half an hour or so later when I heard footsteps again. This time I slipped out of bed and stood behind the door, waiting.

Yes, they had paused at my door and the handle was slowly turned. This time I did not speak. I stood pressed against the wall, waiting, while the door opened slowly.

I had been expecting the stately figure of Jessie, but to my amazement it was a young girl who could not have been more than twelve years old who entered. She went straight to the bed and gasped to see it empty. By this time I had shut the door and, leaning against it, said: “Hello. What do you want?”

She spun round and stared at me, her eyes wide and bright. I think if I had not been barring her way she would have rushed out of the room.

My fears had ebbed away. I saw at once that instead of a rather sinister presence all I had to deal with was a curious little girl.

“Well,” I said, “why have you come to pay me a visit at such an hour? It’s very late, you know.”

Still she said nothing. She stared down at her bare feet showing beneath her nightgown.

I went toward her. She looked at me in panic and I could see that she was preparing to make a dash for the door.

“Now you are here,” I said, “and I must say in a rather unceremonious fashion, I think you owe me an explanation.”

“I … I only wanted to see you.”

“Who are you?”

“Evalina.”

“And what are you doing here in this house … who are your parents?”

“We live here. This is my mama’s house really. …”

I knew then. There was a faint resemblance. I said: “You must be Jessie’s daughter?”

She nodded.

“I see, and you live here in your mother’s house?”

“It’s Lordy’s really. …”

“Whose?”

“The old man. Lord Eversleigh’s his real name. But we always call him Lordy.”

“We … ?”

“It’s my mama’s name for him.”

“I see. And he is a very great friend of yours, I suppose, since he lets you live in his house and call him Lordy.”

“He couldn’t do without us.”

“Does he say so?”

She nodded.

“Why did you creep into my bedroom?”

“I saw you when you came.”

“I saw you. You were at the top of the staircase.”

“You didn’t see me.”

“I did. You should be a little more careful. You do seem to get caught. Look at you now.”

“Are you going to tell on me?”

“I don’t know. I’ll see when I have finished the interrogation.”

“The what?” She looked frightened, as though she feared some terrible ordeal.

“I’m going to ask you some questions. A lot will depend on how you answer.”

“My mother would be angry. She gets angry sometimes. She’d say I was careless not to make sure you were asleep before I came in.”

“So it would have been quite acceptable if you had not been caught.”

She looked at me in wonderment. “Of course.”

“A strange philosophy,” I said.

“You do talk funny. Why have you come here? Is it to make trouble with Lordy?”

“I came because Lordy—as you call him—invited me.”

“My mother is cross with him about that. She can’t understand how he could ask you without telling her. She’s asking a lot of questions … who took the message, and all that. I reckon there’ll be a terrible row.”

“Why shouldn’t Lord Eversleigh invite whom he wishes to his house?”

“Well, he should ask mama first, shouldn’t he?”

“Is your mother the housekeeper here?”

“Well, it’s all different, you know.”

“In what way?”

She giggled. Her face, which had seemed innocent at one stage, had become rather sly. She might be young but she was knowledgeable in some matters and she managed to convey a meaning to the relationship between her mother and Lord Eversleigh which had come to me as a possibility and now seemed a certainty.

This child was not the innocent I had been imagining. She was a girl who listened, who spied and whose curiosity was so intense that it brought her from her bed at night to take a look at the new arrival who had brought such consternation to her mother.

I did not pursue that line of conversation. The child’s salacious giggle had in a way answered it and certainly I did not want to discuss this dubious relationship with her.

She said: “I’ll go now. Good night. You ought to have been asleep.”

“It would certainly have suited your convenience. Tell me, did you intend to examine my baggage?”

“I only wanted to have a quick look.”

“Now you’re here you will go at my pleasure. You will now answer a few questions for me. How long have you been here?”

“It’s about two years.”

“You are happy here?”

“It’s lovely. Different from …”

“From where you were before. Where were you?”

“In London.”

“You and your mother. Where is your father?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Never had one … proper. … There were uncles. … They never stayed long, though.”

I felt disgusted. The child was building up a picture of what I had suspected.

Jessie was a loose woman who had somehow managed to dupe Lord Eversleigh. How had she done it? I couldn’t imagine any of the ancestors I remembered being taken in by such a woman. They would not have had her under their roofs for an hour.

“How did you get here?”

She was puzzled. I guessed she really did not know. All she could say was that they had lived near Covent Garden and her mother had had lodgers. … “People from the theater,” she said. “My mama went on the stage once.”

She looked a little wistful and I said: “You enjoyed that life then … better than this.”

She hesitated. “There’s good things to eat here … and mama’s better … and Lordy couldn’t do without us.”

“Does he say so?”

“He’s always telling mama so. She’s always asking him.”

“Where is your bedroom?”

She pointed vaguely upward.

“And your mother?”

“With Lordy, of course.”

I felt sick with horror. It was just as I had suspected. I wondered with apprehension what the next day would bring.

“I’m getting cold,” she said.

I was too and I felt I had discovered a great deal from Evalina.

“You’d better go back to your room up there now,” I said.

She moved toward the door with alacrity.

“If I am going to stay here for a short while I want a key to my door.”

“I’ll bring it back.”

“So you have it.”

She smiled, nodded, hunching her shoulders. She looked mischievous and childish.

“Do you mean to say you took it so that you could creep in and look round my room when you wanted to?”

She cast down her eyes, still smiling.

“Is it in your room now?”

She nodded.

“Then go up and bring it down to me at once.”

She hesitated. “If I do you won’t say anything about this.

I hesitated. There was a look of cupidity in her face. She was remarkably like her mother.

“All right,” I said. “It’s a bargain. Give me the key and your visit shall be a secret between us. Though I advise you not to do such a thing again.”

She nodded and slipped away. In a short time she was back with the key.

She was smiling slyly at me.

Still wondering what revelations would come in the next days I locked the door and, feeling secure, went back to my bed, where after a while I slept deeply until morning.

I was awakened by the arrival of one of the maids bringing me hot water. The sun was streaming into the room showing me a shabbiness which I had not noticed in the darkness.

“Good morning,” I said. “What is your name?”

“Moll,” answered the girl. “Mistress Jessie says to come down when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” I said, and, giving me a curious look, she went out.

I got out of bed immediately while thoughts of last night came back to me. Today I should discover the true state of affairs and I was very much looking forward to seeing my kinsman. Lordy! I found myself smiling rather ruefully at the sobriquet. I was sure it had been bestowed by Jessie and it was really very revealing. So it was in a mood of expectancy that I descended to the dining room.

Jessie was already there. She was in a morning gown of cambric—lilac-colored and elaborately embroidered. She wore slightly less jewelry than last night but she was still overloaded with it. Her maquillage was more noticeable and the sun was more harsh than the gentle light of candles.

She greeted me effusively. “Oh, there you are! Had a good sleep, I hope. My goodness me, you must have been well nigh wore out last night.” She had abandoned the attempt at refinement which she had adopted on our first meeting and I think I liked the present style better. It was certainly more natural. “Was the bed comfortable? Made up in a hurry, I’m afraid, and you know what these maids are like. It’s one body’s work looking after them.”

I said that my bed was comfortable, but “it is always a little different in a strange bed.”

“I’d agree on that one.” Her laugh was high pitched and she was near enough to give me one of her playful pushes which I was too late to evade.

“Now what will you have to eat? Not expecting visitors, we wasn’t, so you’ve caught us on the hop, so’s to speak. But being as I’m one for the victuals, they don’t do so bad in the kitchen.”

It was true there was plenty to eat. There was fish and pies containing meat. I was not hungry and took a little fish, which was all I could manage. Jessie meanwhile sat opposite me as she had on the previous night.

“My! You eat like a little bird,” she said. I guessed she had already breakfasted but she could not resist taking some of the pie and eating it in a way expressive of great enjoyment, smacking her lips and licking her fingers.

I said: “When shall I be able to see Lord Eversleigh?”

“Now, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. He’s not so good in the mornings, poor pet. He needs time to pull himself together, you might say. Oh, he’s no spring chicken, though he’s good for his age.” Her eyes sparkled rather reminiscently, I thought, and I was sure that had the table not separated us it would have been an occasion for one of her pushes.

“I am sure he will wish to see me when he knows that I am here.”

“Oh yes, I expect you’re right. Let’s say give him an hour or two, eh? I’ll let you know when he’s ready. Say about eleven o’clock.”

I said I should look forward to eleven.

She stood up. “Well, I reckon you’ll want to get those bags unpacked, eh? One or two things you may want to do. Take a walk in the gardens. They’re very nice. Don’t go too far away, though, and come in at eleven. I reckon he’ll be ready then.”

I went to my room, unpacked the little I had brought with me and then, taking her advice, went into the gardens. I noticed that they were not as well cared for as they might have been. The general atmosphere of the house pervaded the gardens.

At eleven o’clock I was back in the house and Jessie was waiting for me in the hall.

“His lordship is excited. He wants you to go up at once.”

I followed her up the stairs. Memories from my childhood were coming back to me and parts of the house were already seeming familiar to me. I knew that we were going to the main bedroom. I remembered coming here with my mother to see my great-grandmother when she was ill.

Jessie unceremoniously opened the door and I followed her in.

There was the four-poster bed and sitting up in it an old man. His face was a whitish yellow and there was scarcely any flesh on his bones; he might have been a corpse but for his large lively brown eyes.

“Here she is, Lordy. Here’s the little lady.”

Those bright eyes were turned on me and a thin hand came out to grip mine.

“Zipporah!” he said. “So it’s you, Clarissa’s girl. You came.”

I took his hand and held it firmly. His eyes glistened a little. Here at least was a welcome. I could tell that he was very glad I had come.

“She came because you asked her, pet,” said Jessie. “And didn’t let me know. Not very nice of you, was it, lovey? Arrived last night in the dark … and having no welcome ready. If you’d told me I’d have set the bells ringing for her.”

He smiled at me almost deprecatingly. “Jessie takes good care of me,” he said.

“I should think she does!” said Jessie. “Though sometimes you don’t always deserve it, eh, naughty Lordy?”

He smiled at me. Was he trying to tell me something? If he was it was obvious that he wouldn’t do so while Jessie was present.

“I am so pleased to see you,” I said.

“And your husband?”

“He hasn’t come with me. There was a fire in a barn nearby and he broke his leg attempting to put it out.”

“So you came alone?”

“Accompanied by seven grooms.”

He nodded. “Good of you. Good of you.”

His dark eyes were expressive, luminous.

“Tell me,” he went on. “Tell me, how is your mother? A dear girl … always. And your father … that was a tragedy. I knew him. One of the finest gentlemen that ever lived. And Sabrina … eh …”

“They are all well.”

“Pity Sabrina married that damned Jacobite. We … we put paid to them, eh? Traitors all of them.”

Jessie had sat by the bed. There was a bowl of sweetmeats on a nearby table. She took one and began sucking it. I guessed they had been put there for her benefit and the fact was borne home to me that she shared this bedchamber with that poor skeleton of a man in the bed. The idea of them together would have been comical if it hadn’t seemed so tragic. She sat in a chair smiling at us benignly; yet behind that bland smile was the look of a watchdog. She was suspicious and angry that I had been sent for without her knowledge. I wondered how far he was under her control. Not completely, I suppose; but she was clearly a power in the house.

“Lordy can still get wild over the Jacobites,” commented Jessie.

I raised my eyebrows a little and looked at him. Why didn’t he send this insolent woman away?

He caught my expression and returned it with an almost apologetic smile and yet there was a message there. He wanted to talk to me in private I knew. Why did he not tell her to leave us!

Could it possibly be that he was afraid of her? A brazen forceful woman; a houseful of servants selected by her and an old man possessed of wealth, enfeebled, spending a great deal of time in his bed.

The situation was becoming clear, but I could not understand his docility.

I said: “I hear that Mistress Jessie is a good housekeeper.”

She gave rather a raucous laugh. “More than that, eh, pet?”

He laughed with her and by the expression on his face I thought: He really cares for her. He likes her.

“Do you ever go out?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t been out … for how long, Jessie? Months?” She nodded. “The trouble is I can’t manage the stairs. A pity. I always liked the fresh air.”

“He rests in the afternoon, don’t you, pet? I tuck him up after dinner. That’s round about one and then after a nice nap … he’s rested.”

Jessie had the sweetmeat bowl beside her. “There’s no marzipan here,” she commented. “I told them girls to keep it filled.”

Her face was momentarily distorted with anger. Gone in that instant was the bland expression; but it was almost immediately replaced by the smile. If she could be like that over a sweetmeat, I thought, how would she be about something which affected her really deeply? That I had stumbled into a very strange and dangerous situation was becoming increasingly clear.

She went to the door and shouted “Moll.” It gave us our opportunity. The thin old hand had seized mine urgently. “See Jethro,” he whispered. “He will tell you what to do.”

That was all. She had returned to the room. Only her desire for a sweetmeat had allowed her to leave us alone for a second.

“Them girls,” she said. “I don’t know what they’re paid for.”

I said quickly, as though continuing a conversation, “Yes, what shall I call you? Our relationship is rather a complicated one.”

“Let’s see,” he said. “Now my parents were Edwin and Jane, and Edwin was the son of Arabella and Edwin. Then Arabella remarried my father’s cousin Carleton—like me. It’s a name that turns up in the family now and then. She had Priscilla and another Carl, who became a general. Priscilla had a daughter out of wedlock, Carlotta—wonderful Carlotta—and then she married and had Damaris. Carlotta had a daughter … again out of wedlock.”

Jessie started to laugh. “Now we know where you get your naughtiness, Lordy.”

He did not seem to hear her but went on: “And Carlotta’s daughter was your mother, Clarissa. Now what does that make us? I think you’d better call me Uncle Carl, don’t you? The poor general is no more, so there is no danger of my being mistaken for him.”

“Yes,” I said. “Uncle Carl then.”

Very soon Moll came in with a bowl of sweetmeats. Jessie rose and seized on them eagerly. This gave us another opportunity and Uncle Carl seized it.

He did not speak but his lips framed the name: “Jethro.”

We talked a little after that and I rose to go. Jessie was smirking. She did not know that I felt I had made some progress.

It was nearly midday when I left my kinsman, whom I now thought of as Uncle Carl. Dinner was served at quarter past twelve, Jessie told me, and she would see me then. It was a sumptuous meal. If I had learned anything it was that food meant a great deal to Jessie. It was due to her love of sweetmeats that I had a private word with Uncle Carl. I had to be grateful for that. My plans for the afternoon were already made. I was going to find Jethro.

The meal was served in the dining room. It consisted of several dishes, soup, fish, meats of three kinds and pies. Jessie seemed to have a passion for pies. When I entered the dining room Jessie was already there with the girl I had met last night.

“My daughter, Evalina,” she said.

Evalina curtsied. She looked slightly more demure than she had last night and I guessed the bold little girl was in great awe of her mother.

“She makes herself useful about the house, don’t you, pet?”

Evalina looked at me half defiantly, half pleadingly. I guessed she was afraid I might mention our encounter of last night.

“You must be a great help to your mother,” I said.

She relaxed visibly and gave me a half-grateful, half-conspiratorial smile. She had brought back the key of the room, she was reminding me, and I had made a bargain.

We sat down and I was rather glad that Jessie’s desire for food made conversation spasmodic.

“I take Lordy’s tray up,” she said. “Always have to give him something as won’t upset his stomach. It’s a bit delicate, you know.” I thought a bit of the hot roast beef would be just right for him. Her lips watered slightly at the mention of roast beef. “Lapped it up, he did. That’s why we eat a little after midday; I like to see he’s satisfied first. Then we tuck him down for his afternoon nap. He’ll sleep right through till five of the clock. I like a bit of a nap myself in the afternoons. I hear it’s a good habit. … Keeps you going till the early hours of morning. How about you, Mistress Ransome?”

“I don’t take an afternoon nap but then I suppose I retire before the early hours of morning.”

She laughed.

Evalina watched me furtively and paid little contribution to the conversation. I was glad when the meal was over It was comforting to think that Jessie would be sleeping. … I wondered if she lay beside Uncle Carl on that big four-poster.

I went to my room.

When afternoon quiet had settled on the house, I lost no time. I went out and crossed the gardens to the stables. That was where I would be most likely to find Jethro. I looked around at the edge of a small field; there were two cottages and on the gate of one of these a young boy was swinging. He looked at me curiously and I said: “Hello.” He continued to stare at me and I went on: “Do you know Jethro?” He nodded. “Where does he live?”

He pointed to the other cottage.

I thanked him and opened the gate of Jethro’s home.

He must have been prepared, because as I went up the little path I heard a voice say: “Come in. Mistress Zipporah. I’ve been expecting you.”

I stepped down into a dark room, rather cluttered with furniture and highly polished horse brasses around the fireplace. Over the door a horseshoe had been nailed.

“Lord Eversleigh wished me to see you,” I said.

“That’s right. I’m the only one he’s got here, in a manner of speaking.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, she’s in charge now. It’s what Jessie wants that goes. That’s how it is.”

I said: “It’s horrible. I had no idea I was going to find this. That woman …”

“Not such an unusual situation. A man like his lordship … begging your pardon, Miss Zipporah, but it’s happened before and it’ll happen again.”

“Couldn’t she be sent away? Surely she only has to be dismissed.”

“His lordship would never agree. He dotes on her. She’s his woman … if you’ll forgive the expression. Mistress Zipporah.”

“You mean she’s got a hold on him.”

“She’s got him, mistress. He don’t want her to go no more than she wants to go. He knows she’s feathering her nest but he likes to provide the feathers.”

I said: “It is the most extraordinary household.”

“Well, you see, it’s always been women with him and he can’t be expected to change at his time of life.”

“But there’s something happening there. He whispered to me that he wanted you to tell me something.”

“Ah yes, yes. … He wants me to tell you that he has got to see you on his own … without Jessie there. He wants that arranged.”

“I could go to him and he could insist that we were alone. Why shouldn’t we tell the housekeeper to leave us?”

“Jessie’s not that sort of housekeeper. She’d never allow it and he would never upset her. No, mistress, what you have to do is get into his room when she’s out of the house. Now she’s a regular one in her habits. And she’ll be out of the house say thirty minutes from now.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she acts regular as clockwork.”

“She said that Lord Eversleigh rested after dinner until five and that she did the same.”

“Her resting! On a bed maybe—but not to rest … if you’ll pardon the coarseness, Mistress Zipporah.”

“I have come to the conclusion that coarseness is a part of this situation so I am prepared for it.”

“After dinner,” he said, “she tucks his lordship up and tells him to sleep. Then at half past one she’s on her way to Amos Carew’s house. She’s very partial to him. Has been all the time. He got her here, you see. I reckon it was a put-up job between the two of them.”

“Do you mean that Amos Carew is her lover? And who is he?”

Jethro nodded. “Who is he? He’s the estate manager. His lordship couldn’t do without him either. Amos brought Jessie down here as housekeeper and very soon after that she was in charge not only of the house but of his lordship. She’s that sort of woman. She got rid of most of the servants except me … and one or two of them in the cottages. She couldn’t very well turn us out of our homes. Then she brought in some of her own choosing. But I have to say this … both his lordship and Amos Carew seem very content. They think the world of her … both of ’em.”

“It’s horrible,” I said.

“Shocking for a lady like you. But he does want to see you, and he can see you while she’s with Amos Carew. Just go into his room. He might be dozing but he’ll be wide awake at the sight of you and then he’ll tell you what he wants of you, why he’s asked you here … but I don’t think it’s to get rid of Jessie … he just does not want to say what he’s got to in front of her.”

“I’ll go back to the house and to his room.”

“Bit too early yet, mistress. Wait till she’s in Carew’s house. You can see it from my top window. On a bit of hill, we are. And I can see Carew’s clear from my top window. When she goes in it’s two hours clear afore she’s out and she’s generally there before two. We should be on the watch. Will you step up?”

There was a short staircase in the room to Jethro’s bedroom, which extended across the whole area of the cottage. There was a small window at either end of the room … one looking out over Jethro’s vegetable patch, the other across fields to the house.

He had placed two chairs at this window. Now he said: “Look to the right of the house. See the manager’s house. Always been the manager’s house as long as I can remember, and my father and grandfather before me. Well, Amos Carew came here. He was a merry sort of fellow, people liked him. So did the girls. I reckon there’s one or two of them who would have liked to set up house with him but he’s not the marrying kind. And it wasn’t long after he came that he brought Jessie here. She wheedled her way into the house and was a great favorite of his lordship. It got so he couldn’t do without her. He gave her jewels and fine clothes and more or less the running of the house. Because he’s an old man … well, she always kept on with Amos. So that is how it is.”

“The more I hear the more sordid it becomes.”

“That’s because you’re a lady bred and born but this sort of thing springs up now and then. … It’s a pity, though, that it should be his lordship. There! Are you keeping your eyes open? It should be any minute now.”

“As soon as we see her I shall hurry back to the house and go straight up to Lord Eversleigh’s room.”

“That’s the idea, and when you find out what he wants if I can be of any help I’m here. She’s late today.”

“What is that house over there?”

“Why, that’s Enderby.”

“Oh yes … I remember Enderby.”

“A queer sort of place that’s always been.”

“Who is there now?”

“It changed hands some time ago. It seems to do that. I think there’s something strange about that house. Things have happened in it. People don’t seem to stay. Don’t mix much, these people. Have visitors from time to time. Foreigners, some of them.”

“It’s strange how a house gets a reputation.”

“Haunted, they say. There’s been tragedies there. Some say that part of the grounds are haunted too. There was rumor that someone was murdered and buried there.”

“It always seemed rather gloomy as I remember.”

“Ah yes, Enderby’s not a place you’d forget. Look. There she is. You can just make her out. See, she keeps to the trees. … She’ll have to come into the open before she can get to the house, though. ’Tis a mercy there is a good deal of her. She can’t easy be missed.” He chuckled. “I fancy she’ll have a lot to tell Amos today.”

I watched with a growing excitement. She walked into the house without knocking. She was evidently expected.

“I’ll go back right away,” I said. “And thank you, Jethro. I’ll see you again soon.”

“Right you are, mistress. Get in now. Go straight into his room. Never mind if he’s dozing. Wake him up. That’s what he wants.”

I went quietly into the house and up the stairs. When I opened the door of Uncle Carl’s room, he was propped up in bed, I think waiting for me.

Those wonderfully alive eyes lit up when they rested on me.

“You found Jethro,” he said.

“Yes. He told me this was the time to find you alone.”

“Jessie’s sleeping. She likes her nap at this time of day.”

There was a certain mischief in his eyes and it occurred to me then that he knew of her visits to the estate manager and the purpose of them. Perhaps I imagined that because I was becoming caught up in a situation which would have seemed impossible to me before I set foot in this house.

“My dear, it was good of you to come.”

“I’m glad I did.”

“And I’m rather glad that you came alone. Your husband might not have understood so readily.”

“Oh … I am sure he would … Tell me what it is I have to understand.”

“Come and sit near the bed, so that I can see you. Ah, you have a look of Clarissa. A dear good girl … always. I think the women are the backbone of the family. … The men … they have their weaknesses but the women have been strong. But let us get down to business, shall we? We must make the most of what time we have. My dear, I want you to help me make my will.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, you see there are formalities. Things have to be signed and the lawyers have to come. It’s rather difficult”—he smiled at me deprecatingly—“in the circumstances.”

I decided to speak out boldly. I said: “You mean because of Jessie.”

“Yes,” he said. “Because of Jessie.” He lifted a hand. “I know what you are going to say. Get rid of Jessie.”

I nodded.

“This is something you won’t understand. You have lived a conventional life, you had good parents, and now a good husband. We are not all so fortunate as you. Our lives don’t run along such pleasant tracks. We ourselves are not always very pleasant people.”

I said: “You are telling me that Jessie occupies a rather special position in this household and because of that it is not easy to get rid of her.”

“Well, she would have to go if I told her to. That could be arranged.”

“And you want me to get your lawyers to do that.”

“No. Oh dear me, no. I don’t want to be rid of Jessie. I don’t know what I’d do without her. … It is just for the will.”

“And yet …”

“I told you it would be difficult for you to understand, didn’t I? I am very fond of ladies. I always have been … from the age of about fourteen. I could not imagine my life without them. There were always ladies. I led a wild life. I had had a dozen mistresses by the time I was twenty. I am sorry. I am shocking you but you must understand. I don’t want to upset Jessie. She means a great deal to me. My … comforts depend on her. But I don’t want trouble and she can’t have Eversleigh, can she? Can you imagine all those irate ancestors of our rising up against me? I’d be struck down before I could put pen to paper. Well, there is family pride in me too. No … Eversleigh for the Eversleighs. The long line must not be broken.”

“I think I begin to understand, Uncle Carl.”

“That is good. You may have heard about Felicity, my wife. … I was forty when we met. I loved her dearly. She was twenty-two. Five years we were together. I was different then … the model husband … never wanted to stray from my own fireside. Then we were going to have a child. That seemed perfection. She died and the child with her. That was the lowest point of despair I have ever known.”

“I’m sorry, uncle. I had heard of that.”

“A common tragedy perhaps. Well, what did I do? I pulled myself out of my misery and went back to what I had been before Felicity came into my life. Women …. They had to be there, I couldn’t do without them. There were always women. My namesake, that other uncle Carl of yours, the general, didn’t approve of me at all. I should have been managing the estate after Leigh died and he had to do it because I wouldn’t leave my life in London. He was an army man. … He hadn’t the same feel for the place that had gone into it. And then when he died I changed again. I saw my duty. And suddenly I thought I’d come into my own … so I came back. I got quite fond of the place. You do, you know. All those ancestors hanging around in frames … they become part of you. I began to take a pride in old Eversleigh … and see what a fine thing it was for the old house to stand all those years in the same family … while we of frailer stuff than bricks and stone pass on. I had a good manager in Amos Carew. And then Jessie came along. I saw in Jessie that which had always attracted me in a woman … a sort of readiness … a sort of understanding that passes between you. You want the same thing and you’re of one mind about it. You wouldn’t understand that, dear child. You are so different. Jessie and I were like old friends from the start. She has given me a lot of pleasure.”

“She runs the household.”

“She is the housekeeper, you know.”

“But … she seems to control everything.”

“Myself, you mean.”

“Well, I have to come when she is … sleeping.”

“That’s because I wouldn’t want her upset. I don’t want her to know about this will.”

“She surely doesn’t believe that she is going to inherit this house.”

“She may think it could come to that. It couldn’t possibly, of course, but I don’t want her upset. So I want you to find some way of getting the lawyers here. If you could get into town and explain to them. I’ll draw up what I want and you can take it in. Then they can come here with witnesses to do the signing … during an afternoon.”

“I expect it could be managed.”

“But Jessie mustn’t know. It would make her really angry.”

I was silent and he put his hand over mine. “Don’t think hardly of Jessie. She’s what she is and so am I … and so perhaps are we all. She brings me comfort in my old age. I couldn’t do without her. I know a great deal about her … how she must seem to someone like you. But I want you to arrange this for me. I shall leave this house to you. I want you to have, it because you’re Carlotta’s granddaughter. Carlotta was the loveliest creature I ever saw. Mind you, your mother was the daughter of that rogue Hessenfield, one of the greatest Jacobites of the times. But Carlotta was a wonderful creature. Beautiful … wild … passionate. I saw her only as a child but I recognized it all. I never forgot her. You remind me of her in a way. It’s your eyes—that deep blue, almost violet. I remember hers were that color. She wanted to marry some rake who’d fascinated her. They used to meet at Enderby. … That was the story. Then he disappeared … very mysteriously. … There were a lot of rumors later on. Some said he was murdered and his body lies under the ground somewhere at Enderby. Oh, there were a great many stories about her. I often think about her … now I’m so much confined to my bed. She was so full of life … and so beautiful. And she died so young … she couldn’t have been more than in her early twenties. … I often think about that. I’m old … ready to go, you might say. I’ve had my life. How do those feel who are cut off in the prime of youth and beauty … a whole life before them … and then … no more. I wonder someone like that doesn’t try to come back … and finish her life. … You’re thinking I’m a strange old man. Well, I am, I suppose. It’s lying here … having time to think.”

I said: “I’m glad I came.”

“I can’t tell you how glad I am. And you’ll do this for me. You will … discreetly, I mean.”

“I will do what I can. Will you draw up what you want to say and give it to me? I’ll take it to the lawyer and they can prepare what they have to. And then there’ll have to be the signatures. It’ll have to be done here, I suppose. Is there anyone who could do it? Jethro …”

“No, not Jethro. I shall be leaving him something and I think therefore it’s against the rules for anyone who is a beneficiary to sign. It has to be a disinterested party. You can find out from the lawyers.”

“Well,” I said, “the first thing for you to do is write the instructions and then I will get them to the lawyer to be drawn up. After that we’ll arrange about the signing.”

“I can see you are a practical young woman.”

“Can I find pen and paper somewhere?”

“In the desk.”

I brought it to him and he started to write.

I took my seat by the window. I wondered whether Jessie might return early, for it was possible that she might be uneasy on account of my being in the house. Also there was Evalina. I was sure that child was a practiced spy.

I thought, what a strange situation I had walked into, and wondered what would have happened if Jean-Louis had been with me. I was sure he would have taken over the management of this matter with quiet efficiency.

Uncle Carl was writing steadily. All was quiet. I listened to the clock on the wall ticking the minutes away. There was a feeling of unreality in the air.

I looked back at the bed. Uncle Carl smiled at me.

“Here it is, my dear. If you take that in to Rosen, Stead and Rosen and tell them that’s what I want we’ll go on from there. Rosen, Stead and Rosen,” he repeated. “They are in the town. You can’t miss them. Number Eighty, The Street. There’s only one street worthy of the name.”

I took the paper.

“Come and sit by my bed,” he said. “Tell me about your husband. He manages Clavering, I know.”

“Yes, he has done so since the manager died. That was when we were married ten years ago.”

“This is a very large estate. Carew’s a good man, I believe. But it’s always better when the landowner himself takes an active part. It makes it more of a family affair … if you know what I mean. These estates in England have always been run by the great families who regard their workpeople as a responsibility. The good ones have always taken an interest. I came to realize that … and when I did it was too late. I know the people regret the departure of my predecessors. The old ones talk a lot about them. I neglected my duty, Zipporah. I know it now.”

“Well, you have this good manager and you are trying to put your affairs in order.”

He nodded. “I’ve been an old reprobate … an old sinner. Sins come home to roost, Zipporah. At least I’ve had a long life … not like poor Carlotta.”

I said I thought that Jessie would be stirring soon—a polite way of expressing what I meant. It only wanted a quarter to four.

I leaned over the bed and kissed his forehead. I did not want to be caught by Jessie with the papers in my hand. I tapped them significantly. “I will deal with these,” I said, “and I’ll see you later … alone.”

He smiled at me and I went out.

The first thing to do was to hide the papers. I pondered for a while and finally decided to put them in the pocket of a rather voluminous skirt which was hanging in the cupboard. It would only be for a short while as I must get them to the lawyer at the earliest possible moment.

I sat by the window and saw Jessie return to the house, looking rather flushed and pleased, so the session must have been a good one. I imagined her telling her lover about my arrival and I wondered what they said about it. I was getting to get a clear picture. Jessie was obviously feathering her nest and, as Jethro said, Lordy was supplying the feathers. Jessie, devoted to the pleasures of the flesh, was determined to enjoy them—relying on Uncle Carl and Amos to supply her needs. I believed she was very shrewd and would have considered the possible impermanence of her position: no doubt she was endeavoring to prolong this very desirable way of life.

While I was ruminating there was a tap on my door and Jessie herself came in. She was elaborately dressed and must have spent the hour since her return on what I imagined must be a somewhat intricate operation.

She was smiling broadly and I did not think she could possibly have an inkling of what had happened during her absence.

“Supper is about fifteen minutes past six,” she said. “I see to Lordy at six and that gives me time to make sure he is all right before partaking myself. I shall be taking his up now … so can you be at the table shortly? There’s suckling pig.” Her mouth watered and her eyes glistened at the mention of the food. “It’s best served piping hot.”

I said I would be on time; and she gave me a little push.

“That’s it,” she said. “I can see you’re one of the punctual ones. I never could abide them as kept good food getting cold just because they couldn’t be at the table on time. Had a good afternoon? Manage to entertain yourself, did you?”

There was a shrewd glitter in her eyes and she was waiting as though for me to tell her. I felt a cold shiver run through me. This woman, I felt sure, was not quite what she seemed. I had to work hard to prevent my eyes straying to the cupboard.

I said coolly: “I had a very pleasant afternoon, thank you. Did you?”

“I did. There’s nothing like a spell of bed in the afternoons.”

I nodded and turned away.

“All right then,” she said. “See you at supper.”

And she was gone.

How could Uncle Carl endure such a woman? I wondered. But then people had strange tastes, and there was no accounting for them.

I went to the winter parlor precisely at a quarter past six. Jessie was there and with her Evalina.

“He’s enjoying the suckling pig,” said Jessie. “It’s nice to see him take an interest in his food.”

We sat down and fortunately Jessie was so intent on doing justice to the business of eating that she did not talk as much as usual.

Evalina said: “Do you like fairs, Mistress Ransome?”

“Fairs?” I said. “Oh yes, I do.”

“We have one here twice a year. It’s coming next week.”

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

“The noise!” said Jessie. “And the mess they make! Farmer Brady will go on for weeks about the rubbish they leave behind. They have the common land close to some of Brady’s fields. He don’t like it much. People come from miles around.”

“I like it,” said Evalina. “There are fortune-tellers. Do you believe in fortune-tellers, Mistress Ransome?”

“I believe them when they tell me something good,” I said, “but am inclined to disbelieve if it is bad.”

“That’s not very clever. If they tell you something bad you should be warned.”

“But what’s the good if it is written in the stars?” I said lightly.

Evalina regarded me with round eyes. “So you don’t believe in being warned.”

“I did not say that. But if a fortune-teller is telling the future and that is destined for you, how can I change it?”

Jessie paused in her chewing and said: “The servants will be there … the whole houseful of them. All through the day … you see.”

“Will you be here for it, Mistress Ransome?” asked Evalina.

“When is it?”

“The end of next week. They come on Thursday and stay there till Saturday night.”

They were both watching me intently, I fancied.

“So much will depend,” I said. “I can’t stay very long. My husband would have been with me, you know, if he had not broken his leg. I shall have to get back. You understand.”

“I understand perfectly, dearie,” said Jessie. “You want to see your old uncle … and my goodness what a pleasure seeing you has given him … but at the same time you’re worried about that husband of yours. I understand.”

“I shall see. … I may have to go back.”

Jessie was smiling at me intently.

“Whatever you say suits me, and I’m only too sorry that I didn’t know you was coming and we gave you such a poor welcome. Whatever must you have thought of me!”

“It is my turn to understand,” I said.

“Then we’re all happy,” said Jessie. “I’ll have another slice of that pig … what about you?”

When the meal was over I rose and said I would take a stroll in the garden before going to bed.

“I reckon you’re still tired from the journey,” said Jessie soothingly.

I might be, but my mind was too full of strange impressions for me to be sleepy. I went up and sat for a while at my window while various images chased themselves round and round in my head. I felt as though I had been catapulted out of a sane world into one which was vaguely bizarre.

I thought of Sabrina’s saying that she thought she detected a cry for help in Uncle Carl’s letter. It was a cry for help in a way, though he was in no physical danger. On the other hand I had a feeling that Jessie could be capable of a great deal of deception and roguery to get her way, but unless Uncle Carl made a will in her favor—though even she must know that in view of the estates involved it would be unthinkable for him to do such a thing—it was better for her to keep him alive, for only as long as he lived could she enjoy this sybaritic existence. But that he should be obliged to go about the matter of making his will in this secretive manner was monstrous. He was afraid of a housekeeper—well, a little more than a housekeeper! It was amazing in what situations people’s sexual desires could involve them.

I would try to complete this matter of the will as soon as I could. Then I would go home and consult with Jean-Louis. Perhaps I could get him to come to Eversleigh for a visit and see the state of affairs for himself. After all, if I were going to inherit our lives would be disrupted and it might mean that as Eversleigh would be of greater importance than Clavering we should have to come and live here. I believed that was what Uncle Carl would really want if he made me the heiress of the Eversleigh estates.

It would be a great upheaval in our lives and one I am sure which Jean-Louis would not want.

In the meantime I felt that my uncle should be rescued from this harpy. But how did one set about rescuing someone who so clearly did not want to be rescued?

Let well alone, perhaps, was the best thing. Go back home and hope that Uncle Carl lived on for many years. I put on a cloak and went out of the house. The gardens were still beautiful though somewhat neglected. I looked back at the house and wondered if I were being watched from the windows. The thought made me shiver. Yes, I should be glad when I had completed the business and was on my way home. It was possible that when I moved out of the picture I would be able to see it more clearly. After all, what was it but an old man who had been something of a rake in his youth, and was still trying to be one, with a voluptuous housekeeper who was trying to get what she could while the state of affairs lasted and to satisfy her physical needs, which I imagined must be overwhelming, took a lover at the same time.

A sordid situation, perhaps, but not such an unusual one. Certainly not one to give a practical woman—as I prided myself I was—this feeling of menace.

I wanted to get away from those windows which seemed like so many prying eyes. I walked to the edge of the garden and through the shrubbery.

It was a pleasant evening. The sun was just beginning to set—a great red ball in the western sky. The clouds were tinged with pink merging into a fiery red.

I remembered an old rhyme.

Sky’s red,

Billy’s dead

Fine day tomorrow

It was invariably right. Such a sky heralded a warm day to come. But who was Billy? I wondered, and why should they sing so happily about his death?

Death! Carlotta had died young. How uncle did brood on her! He must have been greatly impressed when he saw her. She was a legend in the family. Someone admired for her beauty, and the hope was always there that none of the girls would take after her. None had, presumably. Carlotta had been unique. She had lived here, though she had died in Paris.

Strange … in these fields and lanes many years ago Carlotta had once walked when she was in her early teens. She used to go over to Enderby and there met her lover. They had carried on their passionate liaison there—and he was murdered in time … deservedly, and his body buried somewhere nearby.

I found my footsteps were leading me toward Enderby.

It was not very far. Ten minutes’ walk—perhaps even less. I would walk to the house and then back. The air might make me sleepy, and I should be back just when it was beginning to get really dark.

I could see the house in the distance … a shadowy building in declining light, for the sun had now disappeared below the horizon and the clouds were fast losing their rosy glow.

I had come to that stretch of land close by the house which had once been a rose garden. Some of the bushes still remained. They were tall and overgrown but the flowers still bloomed on them. Few people had gone there in the old days. It had been said to be haunted. It was somewhere in that patch that the remains of Carlotta’s murdered lover lay. It had been fenced in at one time when it had been a rose garden but the fence was now broken down in several places. I don’t know what prompted me to step over the broken pales, but I did so.

There was a hushed feeling in the air—no wind at all, just a silence so deep that I was immediately aware of it. I took a few steps among the overgrown trees and then I saw what I took to be an apparition.

So startled was I that I gasped in dismay and felt myself turn cold, as a shiver ran through me. A man was standing a few yards from me. It was as though he had risen from the ground.

He was splendid. I did not meet many elegant men in the country but my father had been noted for his attention to dress, and I recognized at once that this apparition must be attired in the height of fashion, although I had no idea what that was.

His coat was full, spreading round him: it was velvet in a shade of mulberry as far as I could see in the fading light; it had huge cuffs which turned back from the wrists almost to the elbows. Beneath the coat was a waistcoat heavily embroidered, fringed and laced, open to show a white cravat, a mass of frills. His wig was a profusion of white curls and on top of this he wore a cocked hat.

He took a few steps toward me. My impulse was to run but my limbs seemed numb and I was unable to move.

He spoke then. “Are you real?” he said. “Or one of the ghosts that are said to haunt this place?”

He took off his hat and bowed gracefully in a manner which was a little different from that to which I was accustomed. I noticed that he spoke with a faint accent which was not English.

I heard myself stammer: “I was thinking that of you. You seemed to rise out of the ground.”

He laughed. “I was kneeling searching for a fob I had dropped. See … my eyeglass is attached to it.” He waved the eyeglass before me. “It’s a cursed nuisance to be without a fob and I doubt I can get a new one here. On my knees I was and then suddenly … I perceived an apparition.”

“Oh.” I said with a laugh. “I am so pleased that there is a logical explanation.”

A faint odor of sandalwood wafted toward me. I could not explain what had happened but from the moment I met him I was possessed by an extraordinary excitement which was quite alien to me. It really was as though I had suddenly become some other than quiet, practical Zipporah.

“I’m afraid I shall have to give up the search for the time being,” he said. He looked up at the sky.

“It will shortly be too dark to see anything,” I agreed.

“A clear sky and there will be a crescent moon. But as you say. too dark to find anything in the grass.”

There was a brief silence between us and I said: “Good night. I must be getting home. Good luck with the fob. Perhaps in the morning …”

He had moved round me, almost as though he were barring my way.

“Home?” he asked. “Where is that?”

“I was referring to Eversleigh Court, where I am staying. Lord Eversleigh is a kinsman of mine. I am here on a visit.”

“Visitors both. I am here … en passant too.”

“Oh … where do you stay?”

He waved his hand. “Close by. The name of the house is Enderby.”

“Oh … Enderby!”

“Oh yes, a haunted house, they say. My hosts snap their fingers at ghostly legends. Do you?”

“I have had very little concern with them.”

“You have some way to go back.”

“It’s only a short walk.”

“You are allowed out … so late.”

I laughed, a little uneasily, for there was something about this encounter which was disturbing me a great deal. “I am not a young girl,” I said. “I’m a married woman.”

“And your husband allows … ?”

“My husband is at the moment a long way from here. I am just on a brief visit and shall return very soon. I imagine.”

“Then I think,” he said, “that you should allow me to escort you to Eversleigh Court.”

“Thank you,” I said.

He put out a hand to help me over the broken pales and gripped my arm tightly. “They could be dangerous in the dark,” he said.

“Very few people come here in the dark. They wouldn’t dare.”

“We are brave, eh?”

“When I saw you rise up so suddenly I felt far from brave.”

“And when I saw you I was overcome by excitement. At last a ghost, I said to myself. But I will tell you this: I am relieved that you are flesh and blood after all … which is so much more interesting, don’t you agree? than the stuff that ghosts must be made of.”

I agreed. “So you are visiting the owners of Enderby,” I went on. “I don’t know who they are. The place changes hands now and then, I believe.”

“My friends are not at the house now. They have allowed me to stay there—with their staff of servants—while I have to be in England.”

“It is only for a short time, you say?”

“A few weeks possibly. It is very convenient for me to have this house for my stay here.”

“You are here on … business?”

“Yes … on business.”

“Don’t you find Enderby isolated … for business?”

“I find it very much to my taste.”

“They say it’s gloomy … ghostly. …”

“Ah, but I have some very pleasant neighbors, I discover.”

“Oh … who are they?”

He stopped and, laying his hand on my arm, smiled at me. I could see the gleam of very white teeth and felt again that faint embarrassment.

“A delightful lady whom I shall always think of as my very own specter.”

“You mean me. Oh … well, we are scarcely neighbors. Birds of passage, shall we say?”

“That is a very interesting thing to be.”

“So you don’t know anyone at Eversleigh Court? Lord Eversleigh? The housekeeper … ?”

“I know no one. I am a stranger here.”

“How long have you been here?”

“A week.”

“You have beaten me. I shall have been here a day and night.”

“How fortunate that we met so soon.”

That remark disturbed me so I decided not to pursue it.

I was faintly relieved and yet disappointed to see that we had come to the edge of the Eversleigh gardens.

“I am back now,” I said. “Through the shrubbery and then across the lawns to the house. Thank you for escorting me … I do not know your name.”

“It is Gerard d’Aubigné.”

“Oh … you are … French?”

He bowed.

“You are thinking that perhaps in view of the relations between our countries I should not be here.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I know little of politics.”

“I am glad. Could you tell me your name?”

“Zipporah Ransome.”

“Zipporah! What a beautiful name.”

“Its only distinction is that Moses’ wife had it before me.”

“Zipporah,” he repeated.

“Good night.”

“Oh, I must take you through the shrubbery.”

“It’s perfectly safe.”

“I should feel happier.”

I was silent as we walked through the trees, and then we were onto the lawn.

I turned rather determinedly and firmly said “Good night” again. I wondered what would be said if I were seen bringing him across the lawn to the house.

“Au revoir,” he answered, taking my hand and kissing it.

I withdrew it quickly and ran across the lawn.

I was so disturbed that I had forgotten Uncle Carl’s will and it was sometime after I had been in my room that I thought of the papers. I immediately went to the cupboard to reassure myself that they were still there. They were.

What a strange encounter that had been! I couldn’t stop thinking of him. A Frenchman. Perhaps that accounted for the elegance and strangeness, yet the manner in which he had risen from nowhere was explained by the lost fob. But it had certainly given me a shock at the time and I supposed I hadn’t recovered from that during the entire encounter.

I undressed thoughtfully; I was wide awake. My walk had done little to induce sleep. Everything about me was taking on an unreality. I could hardly believe that I had not been two nights in this place yet. I felt a sudden desire to be home where everything was quiet, and strange things did not happen.

I locked my door and went to the window to draw back the curtains as I liked to wake to the full light of day. He was standing there on the lawn looking up at the house. He saw me at once and bowed. I felt unable to move for some seconds and stood still, staring at him. He put his fingers to his lips and then threw his hand outward.

For a few seconds we stood still looking at each other. Then I turned abruptly and moved away from the window.

I was trembling, which was foolish; but he had a strange effect on me.

It was, I told myself, because I could not forget the way he had risen before my eyes. It had seemed so uncanny because I suppose it was on that haunted ground that a man was said to have been buried after he was murdered.

I blew out the candle and got into bed. But sleep evaded me. I kept going over the events of the day. I thought of Uncle Carl and his instructions and told myself I must get to the lawyer on the following day. But my nocturnal adventure imposed itself on those early impressions and I found myself going over it detail by detail.

Finally I rose and went to the window. I don’t know if I was foolish enough to expect he would still be there. Of course he was not.

I went back to bed but it was nearly dawn before I finally slept.