Time of the Hunter's Moon

The Ruby Earring

THE moment I stepped off the train I was aware of him. Emmet was there to take us back to the school but as we came into the station yard, I saw the Verringer carriage with him beside it.

He came forward, hat in hand.

"Miss Grant, what a pleasure to see you. It has been so long."

I was taken aback, not expecting to see him so soon, but I confess I had been wondering whether he would have returned by the time we got back to school.

"So ... you have come back," I said, and thought how foolish such a statement of the obvious must seem to him, and it would of course expose my embarrassment.

"I have my carriage here," he said. "Give me the pleasure of taking you back to the Academy."

"That is kind of you," I replied. "But Emmet has the school carriage here to take us."

"It is something of an old rattler, isn't it? You'll be more comfortable in mine."

"We'll be quite all right with Emmet, thank you." "I shall not allow it. Emmet, you can take the baggage and perhaps Miss er ..."

He was looking at Teresa who returned his gaze defiantly.

"I was going to say perhaps you would do me the honour of riding in my carriage," he went on with a faint hint of mockery.

"I shall ride with Miss Grant," said Teresa. "That's an excellent idea. Emmet, I'm taking both the ladies."

"Very good, Sir Jason," said Emmet.

I felt angry but it would have looked ridiculous to make a fuss, like making an issue about something which was not really very important. But I had a feeling that everything which brought me into touch with him was important. I felt furious with myself for not refusing in a way which would have been polite and coolly conventional and at the same time conveying to him that I had no wish to be under an obligation to him.

"This is pleasant," he said. "You can both sit beside me. There's plenty of room, and it's the best way to enjoy the scenery. I shall enjoy showing you how my bays perform. I am really rather proud of them."

And there we were seated beside him, turning out of the station yard into the lanes.

I said: "I trust you had a pleasant tour."

"Well, one gets a Little tired of being away from home. Homesick, I suppose. One broods on what one has left behind. Did you and Miss er-"

"Hurst," I said.

"Miss Teresa, yes, I remember. Did you enjoy your holiday?"

"Very much, didn't we, Teresa?"

"The last bit," answered Teresa.

"Oh ... not until the end?"

Teresa said: "The last bit was with Miss Grant, the first with my cousins. That was the bit I didn't like at all."

"I can understand how enjoyable it must have been to be with Miss Grant. I envy you."

I looked straight ahead. "It is to be hoped we don't meet another carriage in this lane," I said. "Ah, memories return. If we do ..."

"You will insist on their going back."

"But of course. I hope I shall see something of you this term. I heard from Miss Hetherington that there is going to be a midsummer pageant. They might involve us at the Hall as well as the school, as it is concerned with the Abbey."

Us? I thought. Who is Us? Does he mean himself and Marcia Martindale. Is she Lady Verringer by now?

"I remember the last one but one. That was some years ago. It was commemorating something. We have some costumes tucked away somewhere. We had actors down last time and they left the things behind. Monks' robes. I must tell Miss Hetherington about them."

"That will be interesting," I said coolly.

We had come through the narrow lane.

"Safe," he said, looking at me sideways. "You are relieved that I shall not embarrass you with a show of arrogance and selfishness."

He pulled up suddenly.

"Just so that you can admire it for a few moments," he said. "Looks grand, doesn't it? It must have looked very much like that six hundred years ago. You'd never guess from here, would you, that it is a ruin?"

"I can see the school," said Teresa.

"No ruin, thank heaven. I don't know what we should do without our good Miss Hetherington, her pupils and her wonderful mistresses."

"I should not have thought they made a great deal of difference to you at the Hall."

"Oh they do. They add a spice to life. And think how useful to my wards. Where else would they get such an excellent education? Where else would they get that whiff of culture. It would mean sending them to an establishment abroad. How much more convenient for them to be a short ride away from home."

"Miss Hetherington would be gratified by your comments."

"I have made them to her time and time again." He glanced at me. "But I have never felt this so strongly until lately."

"I daresay those sentimental thoughts came while you were away. It is said that absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Absence did make mine, I'll admit."

"Shall we go? Miss Hetherington will wonder what has happened when she sees Emmet returning without us."

"Do you think he is already there?"

"He has taken the short cut," said Teresa. "You took the long way round, Sir Jason."

We went on and in a short time arrived at the school.

Miss Hetherington came out to meet us. She did look a little disturbed.

"Oh, there you are, Miss Grant. I wondered. And Teresa ..."

"I was at the station," said Jason Verringer. "I saw the ladies and thought it would be discourteous of me not to offer them a lift. Now that I have safely delivered them I'll say au revoir. By the way, Miss Hetherington, we have some monks' costumes up at the Hall. Residue of the last affair. I'll get someone to look through them or perhaps one of your people could do that. You might fend them useful."

"Thank you. I shall most certainly take advantage of your kind offer, Sir Jason. Are you sure you won't come in?"

"Not now, but I will call later. Good day to you, ladies."

With a gallant gesture he swept off his hat and then his horses were trotting away.

"Teresa," said Miss Hetherington, "you'd better get to your room. I suppose you met Miss Grant at the station?"

Teresa was silent and I said quickly: "I'll explain. You go along Teresa."

"Emmet has taken your bags up," said Daisy. "Come into the study."

I followed her and when the door was shut I told her about Teresa.

"She left them and travelled on her own! I shouldn't have thought Teresa would have had the courage to do that."

"She's grown up quite a lot lately."

"She evidently hated it with the cousins. I wrote to them and it was all amicably settled. They were really rather relieved. I think that much was obvious and I got their permission for her to spend the summer holiday with us."

Daisy nodded.

"Her travelling on her own like that was not our responsibility," she said. "I hope Teresa is not getting too fond of you, Cordelia. You have to be careful with these impressionable girls."

"Actually I think she is more with Violet than with me. It is amazing how they get on."

She nodded. Then she said: "And Sir Jason ... I was surprised to see you in his carriage ... and seated next to him."

I explained: "It was as he said. He was there. He was so persistent. I couldn't refuse his offer without seeming impolite and ... uncivilized."

"I understand. Be careful of him. He's a dangerous man."

"Dangerous ... in what way?"

"I mean it would be unwise for a young woman in your position to become too friendly with him." "I am not likely to do that." "I hope not."

"Did he marry Mrs. Martindale, or is that to come?"

"There has been no marriage ... yet. There is a good deal of speculation as there has been since Mrs. Martindale came to Rooks' Rest."

"She is there now, is she?"

"Oh yes. She has been back for about three weeks. So has he, and people are waiting for the next development. The general opinion seems to be that they will be married. The unpleasant rumour that he helped his wife to her death so that he could marry Mrs. Martindale still persists. I don't like that sort of gossip about someone so close to the school. It is a pity the place belongs to him and he shows an interest in it. I am sure all those rumours are nonsense. He might be all sorts of rogue but he isn't the sort to murder his wife. But until he marries and settles down, I am afraid these rumours will persist. In the meantime it is well for our people to remain as aloof as possible."

"I agree," I said. "And it is certainly what I intend to do."

Daisy nodded, satisfied. "It is not easy," she went on, "he being our landlord and this connection between the Hall and the Abbey."

Later I saw Eileen Eccles in the calefactory and I looked in to have a word with her.

"Welcome back to the grindstone," she said. "Had a good holiday?"

"Very good, thanks. And you?"

"Lovely. It's a long time to wait for the summer break. I always think this term is the most difficult. I suppose it is because the longing to get away is more acute than usual."

"Oh please," I laughed. "It hasn't begun yet."

"I think it will be a grim one. Just think we are going to have that appalling Midsummer thing. I was here for the last one and you have no idea until you have suffered it what a ghastly business it is. Musical interludes, singing under the shadow of the great nave, prowling about in white, the robes of our founders ... staging a little pageant ... a play probably-act one the building of the Abbey; act two the Dissolution; and act three the rising of Phoenix - our own dear Academy for Young Ladies."

"In any case you can laugh at it."

"Laugh, my dear Cordelia. One must either laugh or weep."

"I daresay we shall do more of the former during the proceedings."

"And after that - glorious freedom. Keep your eyes on that all through the weeks of toil and conflict: the light at the end of the tunnel. By the way, you came back in style."

"Oh, you knew about that then?"

"My dear Cordelia, everyone knows. There you were seated beside him for everyone to see. This is not only the home of clotted cream and cider, but of scandal and gossip. And they are two of its major industries."

"There is no need for scandal concerning me, I do assure you."

"I'm glad. I shouldn't like you to be stabbed with a poniard and your grisly remains buried beneath the ruined chancel ... or perhaps your body thrown into the fish ponds one dark night. Madam Martindale looks to me as if she might employ the methods of the Borgias or Medici if the mood took her."

"She certainly does seem a little theatrical."

"And determined to reach her goal, which, my dear Cordelia, is the Hall and the title that goes with it. For these benefits she is prepared to take Sir Jason too, and it might well be woe betide any rivals for that desirable parti."

"You talk such nonsense," I said laughing. "I can assure you that a ride in a carriage does not constitute a proposal of marriage-or intentions to such a thing."

"I thought he might have his eyes on you, nevertheless. You are not without personal charms."

"Oh, thank you! You said that gossip and scandal were the products of this place. I think some people suffer from an excess of imagination. I have seen very little of this Jason Verringer and what I have I don't like very much."

"Keep it that way, Cordelia. Be a wise virgin."

I laughed with her. It was rather good to be back.

In spite of my assurances to myself that Jason Verringer did not concern me in the least, during the days which followed I was finding more and more that this was .not so. Whenever I went out I looked for him; once I saw him coming from the Hall and turned and galloped as far from the place as possible. I believe he saw me but as he was on foot he had no chance of catching up with me ... if he had been of a mind to do so.

Then when I rode out from school on my free periods very often I would meet him and I realized that he contrived these meetings. In my position it was natural that my outings must occur at regular times and he quickly discovered when.

This alarmed and intrigued me; and if I were perfectly honest with myself I would admit that I was far from indifferent to him, which was the state of mind I was striving for.

He was intruding, not only on my free afternoons but into my thoughts. Whenever his name was mentioned-which was frequently for one could not go into one of the shops without hearing something about him or his affairs - I would pretend not to be interested, when all the time I was trying to glean as much information as I could.

I was very inexperienced of the world and of men. The only encounter had been with Edward Compton, and as I grew farther away from that the more like a dream it seemed. Perhaps if I had been more worldly I would have been more alarmed than I atually was. The fact was that I was allowing myself to be drawn into his orbit and he-a man who had a wide knowledge of my sex-understood my feelings and determined to exploit them.

He was attracted by me from the moment he had seen me riding with Emmet, and when he was attracted by a woman he was not the man to deny himself the pleasure of pursuit.

Therefore he now pursued me.

My acid manner did not deter him in the least. On the other hand, if I had been wiser, I should have known it made him all the more determined.

From a man who was on the point of marriage with another woman this was deplorable. I refused to accept it and told myself that his manner towards me was the same as it would be towards any woman who was young and moderately good-looking. There was nothing special about it.

But of course it was not so.

Once I was riding out for my afternoon's exercise when he came cantering up beside me.

"What a pleasant surprise," he said ironically, for he had clearly been waiting for me. "I am sure you won't have any objection to my riding with you."

"Actually I prefer to ride alone," I said. "One can go at one's own pace."

"I will adjust mine to yours. What a glorious afternoon! The more so for me, I might say, since I have met you."

I shrugged that aside and said I should really return to the school very shortly. "There is a great deal to do," I added.

"What a pity. Is it the Midsummer orgy?"

I laughed in spite of myself. "I don't think Miss Hetherington would like to hear it called that."

"I want someone to go through the costumes I have, to see if they will be of any use. Will you come to the Hall? I'd like to show them to you."

"That would be Miss Barston's department. She is the needlework mistress."

"They don't need to be made. They are already done."

"Perhaps they need a little renovation and refitting for whoever is going to wear them. I will tell Miss Hetherington that you want Miss Barston to call."

"I was hoping you would come. After all it is a matter of how the costumes should be worn ... and all that."

"How many ways are there of wearing Cistercian robes, I wonder?"

"You would know. That is why I want you to come."

"It really is Miss Barston you need."

"I do not need Miss Barston. I need Miss Grant." I glanced at him in cold surprise.

"Yes," he went on. "Why are you so aloof? Are you afraid of me?"

"Afraid of you! Why should I be?"

"Well, I am represented as a bit of an ogre, am I not?"

"Are you? I thought you were a widower who is about to remarry."

He burst out laughing. "Oh, that's h!" he said. "The tales they tell about my family are really quite amusing. Now there is only myself I have to bear the whole brunt. Once my brother shared it with me."

"Your life is so colourful, I suppose. You certainly provide the neighbourhood with something to talk about."

"So I have my uses. Cordelia, why can't we be ... friends?"

"One doesn't just make up one's mind to be friends. Friendship is something that grows."

"Well, give ours a chance to grow, will you?"

My heart was beating faster than it should. He certainly had a potent effect on me.

"Everything has its chance," I said.

"So even I have ... with you?"

I spurred up my horse and broke into a canter. I turned off and galloped across a field.

He was beside me all the way. I had to pull up as we came to the road.

"Exhilarating," he said.

I agreed.

"I have to return now. I mustn't be late. I have a class starting in an hour and I have to get back and change."

He nodded and rode beside me. He did not come right up to the school. I wondered whether he was aware of the gossip and did not want it to get to Marcia Martindale's ears, or whether he thought it would displease me and make me refuse to ride with him again.

I went into the school, changed into a blouse and skirt and hurried to my class.

But I could not stop thinking of him.

Two days later during my afternoon break I did not go riding. I was sure that if I did I should meet him again. So I took a stroll through the ruins of the Abbey.

There it was quiet and peaceful and yet at the same time I was aware of a sense of warning as I always was when I was alone among the ruins. I suppose it was the brooding atmosphere of antiquity, the realization that once this had been a flourishing community of saintly men going about their work ... and then suddenly the blow had fallen and in place of all that cairn beauty and sanctity there was ruin. It was still beautiful, of course. That could not be completely destroyed. A thing of beauty was a joy forever-even when vandals had done their best to destroy it. But so much of the Abbey remained, and how impressive it was with those stone walls-roofless as they were-reaching up to the sky.

I walked through the transept and the nave looking up at the blue sky above me. I passed through the narthex on the west side of the basilica and, skirting the chapel and the Abbot's House, I left the ruins a little behind me and came to the fishponds.

I stood for a little while watching the water which flowed from one pond to another. There were three of them, the second lower than the first, the third lower than the second, so that where they flowed into each other there were waterfalls. It was very effective and beautiful to watch.

I was standing by the water, deep in thought, when I heard a footstep and turning sharply saw Jason Verringer.

He approached smiling, hat in hand.

"What made you come here?" I demanded and then realized the folly and impertinence of such a question. Mere all, the abbey lands belonged to him. He could go where he wished.

He was still smiling.

"Guess," he said. "Only one ... not the usual three ... because the answer is obvious. I'll tell you. To see you."

"But how did you know ...?"

"Very simple really. You weren't riding so the chances were that you were walking. Where would you walk? Well, the ruins are irresistible, aren't they? So I tethered my horse not far from here and was walking through the ruins when I saw you admiring the ponds. They are worthy of attention, aren't they?"

"They are. I was imagining the monks sitting here fishing."

"As the worthy Emmet does, I believe, and provides you with the fish you eat at the table." "That's true."

"It is one of the privileges Miss Hetherington has extracted from me."

"I am sure she is most appreciative."

"She always seems so. I am devoted to her really. When the school is not in residence it is extremely dull."

"Surely not, with the estate and ... all your activities."

"There is still something missing ... something very attractive."

I laughed. "You exaggerate, of course. And in any case you were abroad most of the winter."

"Just this year, yes. The circumstances were rather different from usual."

"Yes, of course. Do you ever fish in these ponds?" He shook his head. "I know some of my people do. The fish, I am assured, is excellent and occasionally some of it finds its way to our table."

I nodded and looked at the watch pinned to my blouse.

"It isn't time yet," he said. "Why is it that when we meet you always become very interested in when we shall part?"

"A schoolmistress's life is run by time. You must know that."

"The monks lived by bells. You are like them." "Yes, I suppose so. And the time I take off in the afternoon is between classes."

"Which makes it easy to know when you will be available. You should come and dine with me one night at the Hall."

"I think Miss Hetherington would consider that somewhat indecorous."

"I was not asking Miss Hetherington. Does she rule your life?"

"A headmistress in a school of this nature would have a great influence on the behaviour of her staff."

"In choosing their friends? In deciding what invitations they should accept? Oh come, you are in an Abbey, I know, but it is only the ruins of one. You are not a nun taking your vows."

"It is kind of you to invite me but it is impossible for me to accept."

"There might be a way."

"I can see none."

We had been walking along by the side of the ponds and he stopped suddenly and turning to me laid his hands on my shoulders.

"Cordelia," he said, "suppose Miss Hetherington was agreeable, would you then come and dine with me?"

I hesitated and he said: "You would."

"No ... no ... I don't think it would be very .. . suitable. Besides, as it is out of the question, I see no point in discussing it."

"I am really getting rather fond of you, Cordelia."

I was silent for a moment and started to walk. He slipped his arm through mine. I wished he would not touch me. He made me feel very embarrassed and uneasy.

"You are fond of a number of people I daresay," I replied.

"That is an indication of my affectionate nature. What I mean is that I am getting particularly fond of you."

I released myself and said: "It really is time I went back. I was only taking a short walk through the ruins."

"Oh, I know you hear tales of me, but you mustn't let them affect you. They have been going on for hundreds of years. I am here at the moment so I am the central figure in all the scandals. All my ancestors have shared the same fate, Monsters of Iniquity. That's what they have all been made out to be. We always laughed at the stories circulated about us. Let the people amuse themselves at our expense, we used to say. Their lives are dull. Let them live vicariously through us. Why there is even a story about these fish ponds. Have you heard yet that my great-great-great-grandfather was said to have murdered a man and thrown his body into these very ponds?"

I looked at them and shuddered.

"The ponds flow into the river," he went on, "and it is fast moving at this point because of the flow from the ponds. I'll show you. Come to the end there and you'll see. The river is only a few miles from the sea ... so the poor victim was carried away and his bones now lie somewhere at the bottom of the ocean."

We had come to the last pond and he proved what he had said. The river was certainly fast at that point rushing along its way to the sea.

"This wicked Verringer wanted another man's wife, so he brought him to the ponds, hit him on the head, threw him in and let his body float, by way of the ponds, to the sea. Unfortunately for him there was a witness to the evil deed. That is how we know it took place. Much he cared. He married the lady of his choice and she became one of us. You see, we are a wicked clan."

"You happen to have some records of your family's action if they have only been handed down by word of mouth. It may well be that if we could all trace our family history back so far, we should find skeletons in cupboards."

"That's a kindly thought. It is pleasant to contemplate that we are not the only villains."

There was a sound from above. I turned and saw Teresa standing on the slope which led down to the ponds.

"Are you looking for me, Teresa?" I asked.

"Yes, Miss Grant," she answered. "Miss Barston has a headache and she wants you to sit with her class this afternoon if you are free. She says all you will have to do is watch them. She has set them work."

"Yes, certainly. I'll come back at once. Goodbye, Sir Jason."

He took my hand and kissed it after bowing to Teresa. "It has been a very pleasant afternoon for me," he said.

I joined Teresa. She said: "I saw you hadn't gone riding so I guessed you were walking in the ruins."

"I went down to the ponds and happened to meet Sir Jason there."

Teresa said: "I had to interrupt you. Miss Barston said ..."

"Of course you did, Teresa." "I hope you didn't mind."

"Of course not. As a matter of fact I was trying to get away."

She nodded and looked rather pleased.

His pursuit of me was becoming obvious and people were noticing. He had the temerity to call at the school and suggest to Miss Hetherington that I call at the Hall to inspect the costumes. She told me that when she reminded him that that was a task for Miss Barston he replied that he thought the girls who would wear the costumes should be taught to carry them off with dignity, and that with the special training I had had I should be the one to inspect them.

"It was so blatant," said Daisy. "He knew it and he knew I knew it too. I couldn't help laughing ... at which he joined in. I said firmly: `No. It must be Miss Barston', and he said he would let me know when it would be convenient. I fancy we are not going to hear any more about that. I don't know what to say to you, Cordelia. He has obviously got some interest in you. You are young and good looking and to put it frankly he is a rake. But he really should provide his own women and not look for them in respectable quarters. He has set that woman up at Rooks' Rest and, surely he knows, that in itself- if he were not who he is - should be enough to exclude him from our premises. Unfortunately he is our landlord. He could turn us out at a moment's notice if the whim took him. Moreover we have two pupils from the Hall. They take all the extras and are most profitable. It's a teasing situation. Do you think you can handle it? You are a sensible young woman."

"I think I can. He sometimes waylays me when I ride and the other day I came upon him at the fish ponds."

"Oh dear ... Of course he has every right to be here. We can't ban him from his own property."

I felt myself glowing with excitement. It was rather like a battle and I was deeply involved. I could not, with honesty, say that I deplored his pursuit of me. It was flattering in the extreme and I should be a very unusual woman if I were averse to flattery.

When I next went into the town Mrs. Baddicombe cornered me.

"Oh. I do reckon it'll be wedding bells pretty soon," she told me confidentially. "I do hear there be preparations up at Rooks' Rest. Mrs. Gittings were in here yesterday ... going today she is, taking the little 'un to her sister's place down on the moors. Real pleased she was. There's nothing she likes better and you can see why. It must be a very odd sort of household up there at the Rest."

"I know Mrs. Gittings always enjoys visiting her sister."

"I reckon if it wasn't for the little 'un she wouldn't be working at the Rest. She do live for that child. Poor little mite. 'Tis a mercy someone has a little thought for her. Reckon they want her out of the way for the wedding. Stands to reason the likes of she... well she should be putting in an appearance after the ceremony ... not before."

"So you think the fact that Mrs. Gittings is going away with the child means ..."

"Of course it does, me dear. There'll be a wedding, no mistake. Parson won't like performing the ceremony likely as not, but what can he do? Don't want to lose his living, do he?"

"You can't be sure this is because of the wedding," I began.

"What else? And if it ain't time now, when is it? 'Tis a year since that poor saint went. He's waited his year, and remember there be no male heir for the Verringers as yet. That's got to be thought on. You mark my words, that's what it all means."

I came out of the shop feeling depressed. Could Mrs. Baddicombe be right? Surely if he were on the brink of marriage he would not show such obvious interest in me?

A few days later Miss Hetherington sent for me.

"Here is a note from Sir Jason," she said. "He said he wants you to go to the Hall to discuss the progress of Fiona and Eugenie."

"Go to the Hall ... me! Surely he would want to speak to you about that."

"So I thought, but he goes on to say that he is concerned about Fiona's being launched into society, which will be next year when she is due to leave us, and he_ thinks that with your Schaffenbrucken training he can talk to you about these matters and the special coaching she needs."

"But I know nothing of the launching of girls into English society."

"He was defeated over the monks' costumes, but he never gives up. I am wondering what to tell him."

"I suppose I could go to the Hall."

"My dear Cordelia, I do wonder if it would be wise."

"I think it will be all right. I gather that his wedding is imminent."

"Is it?"

"According to Mrs. Baddicombe."

"She is an excellent news agency," said Daisy, "but I believe she does not always send out true messages."

"According to her, Mrs. Gittings has departed with the child who might prove an embarrassment in the circumstances."

Daisy shrugged her shoulders. "I do wish he would behave more reputably. But as long as it has no adverse effect on the school I suppose it is no concern of ours."

"I can't see how the school can be affected by his conduct. Suppose I went and took the girls with me. They would be there as chaperones."

"H'm," snorted Daisy. "Really this is ridiculous. The annoying part about it is that he knows it and I believe he is laughing at us."

"He is teasing us, I think," I said. "After all, I suppose he will soon be married and perhaps he will change then."

"That is a statement I would challenge very strongly. They say leopards never change their spots."

"They also say that reformed rakes make the best husbands."

"Oh dear, it really is rather absurd. Do you think you can handle it, Cordelia?"

"Yes, I do. I'll take the girls with me and insist on their being present."

"I am sure he will try to outwit you in some way."

"He has dope that on one or two occasions, but I think he will get tired of it when I show him clearly that I do not want his company."

She looked at me steadily. "You do show him that, Cordelia?"

"But of course."

"They say he is a very attractive man. I don't know much about these things myself, but I do know that in some quarters rakes are said to be attractive."

"That's a romantic fiction, Miss Hetherington. It doesn't apply to real life."

"You seem very certain."

"I am about him."

"Well, then go with the girls and see what comes of it. I can't see why he can't discuss their future with me."

That was how I came to be at the Hall on that afternoon in May which was to prove so important in the future.

I set out with Fiona and Eugenie in the early afternoon and we soon covered the few miles between the school and the Hall.

Fiona was reserved but charming; Eugenie was her usual brash self- a little peevish because she was missing the afternoon ride when she would have gone off with the party of girls among whom would be Charlotte Mackay.

When we reached the Hall we went straight to the stables. Jason Verringer was there as though impatiently awaiting us.

He helped me to dismount. "Just on time," he said. "I do like punctuality and I guess Miss Grant is the same."

One of the grooms had come forward to take the horses. Eugenie patted hers and told the groom what she wanted him to do.

"I have two new horses," said Jason to Eugenie. "I'm rather proud of them. I'll show you, Eugenie, before you go."

"I'd love to see them," cried Eugenie, looking animated and pretty suddenly.

"You shall."

As I turned I saw something lying on the cobbles and stopped to pick it up. It was an earring-very large, rather bizarre with what might have been a ruby the size of a pea surrounded by diamonds.

"Look at this!" I cried.

I held it out in the palm of my hand and the girls came to peer at it.

"I know whose it is," said Eugenie. "I've seen her wearing them. It's Mrs. Martindale's."

There was something malicious in her eyes which ill became one so young. "It is hers, isn't it, Uncle Jason?"

"I suppose it could be," he said.

"She wouldn't like to lose it," said Fiona. "What use is one without the other?"

"Shall I give it to you to give to her, Uncle Jason?" said Eugenie with a smirk. "Or I could take it to her. I could easily drop it in when I ride by tomorrow."

"Do that," said Jason Verringer. "If it is really hers she'll be glad to have it."

"I don't see who else it could belong to," said Eugenie. "Do you, Miss Grant?"

"I'm sure I don't know," I said. "I certainly have never seen it before."

Eugenie put it into her pocket. "Show us the horses, Uncle Jason," she said.

He looked at me and lifted his shoulders.

"Oh, here's Mrs. Keel. Mrs. Keel, do take Miss Grant to the sitting room. Are those books from the library there?"

"Yes, Sir Jason."

"Good. We'll be there in a minute. The girls are impatient for a glimpse of the new greys."

He started to run across the yard with the two girls at his heels. I wanted to go after them but Mrs. Keel was talking to me.

"Miss Eugenie is crazy about horses. She always was. Would you come with me, Miss Grant." I felt foolish. I guessed that he had planned just this. However, the girls had only gone to look at the horses and there was only one thing I could do and that was follow Mrs. Keel into the house.

We went into the great hall through which I had passed on that memorable occasion when I had dined with him and sat afterwards in the twilit courtyard.

We went up the great staircase with its beautifully carved newel posts displaying prominently the Tudor roses and slightly less so the fleurs-de-lys, and I was shown into a panelled room with rich red carpets and heavy red velvet curtains. There was a big carved table under a latticed window and on this had been piled several volumes. On a smaller table was a silver tea tray on which were cups and saucers.

"If you'll take a seat, Miss Grant. They won't be long and I'll bring the tea when it is rung for."

"Thank you," I said, and she went out and left me. I felt uneasy. Here was I, alone in this house and only just arrived.

I looked round the room. This was his special sanctum. There were two beautiful paintings on the walls. One of a woman - a Verringer obviously. It looked like a Gainsborough. There was a certain unmistakable look about it. The other was a landscape. There was a bookcase with glass doors. I looked at the books. Some poetry. How extraordinary! I could not imagine his reading poetry. The others were mainly history.

"Assessing my reading habits?"

I had not heard him come into the room. I swung round and saw to my dismay that he was alone. "Where are the girls?" I demanded.

"You're going to be a little bit put out, I believe. Don't blame them. You know how girls are about horses."

"I thought they were coming here to discuss ..."

"It was you who were going to do that. I didn't suggest they come in the first place. In fact I think it is better that they are not here. We can talk more frankly about them. Eugenie was mad to try out the horses and she carried Fiona along with her, so I said they might take them out and ride them in the paddock for half an hour. They'll come in for tea."

He was smiling at me with just a hint of mischievous triumph in his eyes.

So he had won again.

I was determined not to show my displeasure. In fact, if I were honest I would admit that I was glad to be rid of the girls. Eugenie could be really unpleasant and Fiona was inclined to behave as those with her and, although she was quite a docile girl when she was alone, she was slightly less so in the company of Eugenie and Charlotte Mackay.

"What is it you wish to discuss?"

"Sit down. Would you like to look at my books? I have something interesting to show you. I had them brought up from the library. I thought it would be more comfortable up here, but there are others in the collection and, as you are so interested in the Abbey, I thought I'd have them brought up to show you."

"I should like to see them of course, but first shouldn't we get on with the reason for my coming. What are you worried about concerning Fiona?"

"Worried? Certainly not worried. Just asking for help, that's all."

"But you have something in mind?"

He looked at me intently. "My mind teems with possibilities."

"Then please let me hear them and I will see if there is anything we can do at the school to help." "It is a problem for me, having the care of two girls. Particularly now they are coming of age." "I can understand that."

"A man ... on his own ... it is not easy."

"I can see it would have been less difficult if your wife had lived."

"There wasn't much she could do. She was an invalid for years, you know."

"Yes, I did know."

"I've no doubt you have had my complete dossier presented to you ... from that wicked old postmistress. I wonder I keep her there."

I was rather shocked to think that Mrs. Baddicombe should be so malicious about him, when she owed her livelihood to him, as I supposed most people in the area did.

"Wouldn't it be possible for you to ..." I began.

"Appoint a new postmistress. Certainly. This is like a little kingdom here, Cordelia. It is almost as feudal as it was in the days when my ancestors bought the abbey lands. The lands extend to the town which has only sprung into existence during the last hundred years or so. My great grandfather was deeply concerned with building projects. He rented them and increased his properties. I know that wicked old woman serves out gossip with her stamps."

"You know this and you allow it?"

He laughed. "Let her enjoy her life, poor old lady. The Verringers provide the spice in her dull diet. Mind you she has a certain amount to call on and for the rest ... a fertile imagination."

"How do you know about all this gossip?"

"You think that I am a careless good-for-nothing concerned only with pleasure, which you imagine as attending balls, gambling clubs and indulging in the company of obliging ladies. There are all sorts of pleasures, Cordelia. Running an estate is one of them, delving into the past another. You see, my character has many facets. I can change it in a flash. There is quite a lot to know about me, I assure you."

"I never doubted that. Shall we get down to .the business for which I came? Tell me what extra tuition you would like for Fiona?"

"I want her to leave the Academy as a young lady ready for society."

"Do you think we can make her so?"

"I think you can."

"How?"

"I should like her to emerge ... exactly like you."

I felt myself flushing. "Really, I don't understand ..."

"Poised, articulate, cool, inviting interest. Humorous ... in fact devastatingly attractive."

I began to laugh but I knew my eyes were shining. I had said that I liked flattery and it was certainly true.

"Why do you laugh?"

"Because you are laughing at me."

"I am deadly serious. If I had to launch you into society I would know that I had an easy task."

"I disagree. A penniless schoolmistress would not get very far in your sort of society."

He had come to my side. He took my hand and kissed it.

I said: "This is absurd. If you behave like this I must leave at once."

He looked at me slyly. "You will have to wait for the girls."

I put my hands behind my back for they were shaking a little.

"I thought you asked me here for a serious purpose."

"I am very serious."

"Then your behaviour is very extraordinary." "I thought it was very restrained."

"I mean your absurd compliments and insinuations. Please, no more of them, I find them offensive."

"I was only speaking the truth. Isn't that what you teach your pupils to do?"

I sat down with a show of dignity.

"I suspect that this talk about guiding Fiona's future is nonsense."

"I'll confess I don't find it a very interesting subject."

"Then why did you ask me to come here?" "Because I wanted to talk to you."

"Then why didn't you state your real purpose?" "If I had, my wish would not have been granted." "So you lied."

"Only white lies, really. Who in a lifetime has not had to resort to those at some time Even you perhaps.

"Tell me what your purpose is."

"To be with you."

"But why?"

"You must know that I find you irresistibly attractive."

"Is that the way a prospective bridegroom should talk to another woman. I feel sorry for Mrs. Martindale."

"You need not. There is a woman who is infinitely capable of taking care of herself. You are thinking that she and I are going to marry. Is that it? The hot news from the indefatigable Mrs. B. of the post office. Cordelia, I am not, and never was, going to marry Mrs. Martindale ..."

"But what of the child ..."

"You mean her daughter. Oh, is that child said to be mine? Mrs. B. again. She should be writing fiction."

"So ... Well, it is no concern of mine. In fact, you must think me rather impertinent to talk as I have. Please forgive me."

"Most willingly."

"Do you have nothing to say about Fiona, and are you satisfied with the tuition she is receiving at this moment?"

"She does seem a little colourless, but that is not the fault of the school. She is naturally so. And Eugenie is inclined to be aggressive. There is a lack of charm in both of them-but perhaps I am comparing them with ... others. I really wanted to talk about the Abbey and the coming celebrations. It is not so much the costumes, but I thought you would be interested in some old accounts of the Abbey and that you might care to teach the girls something about it. I was appalled by the ignorance of both Fiona and Eugenie on the subject. And there is to be this pageant. I have delved into the archives and found these. We have many accounts of the early days here and apparently when my ancestors acquired it there was much of it intact, including lots of records which were not destroyed, and they were placed in our library. I thought you might be interested to see them."

"I should be most interested."

"Come to the table then and I will show you some of the old plans of the place. There are some very good drawings done by the monks about a hundred years before the Dissolution."

He drew two chairs up to the table. I sat down and he pulled a great tome towards us. "What do you know about the monks of Colby?" he asked.

"That they were Cistercians ... little else."

"Then I'll tell you a little. They came into existence round about the twelfth century and our abbey was built in the 1190s. Do you know where their name came from?"

"No."

"From Clairvaux which was a desolate and almost inaccessible forest bordering on Champagne and Burgundy. Here is an old map. I'll show you.

St Bernard, the founder, was the Abbot of Clairvaux, the first of the monasteries."

I turned to look at him. He had indeed changed.

That he was immensely interested in the Abbey was obvious, for he had thrown off that blasé worldly manner. He looked younger, almost boyish in his enthusiasm.

"They were a noble band of men," he said.

"Their aim was to devote themselves entirely to their religion. Perhaps it is nobler to go into the world and try to improve it than to shut oneself away in meditation and prayer. What do you think?"

"Yes, I think the braver course is to go out into the world. But so few people improve it when they do and a love of power gets between them and their ambitions."

"Ambition," he said. "By that sin fell the angels.

Lucifer was proud and ambitious, and as I have told you he is believed to have been a member of our family. Ask Mrs. Baddicombe."

I laughed. "Please go on. It's fascinating."

"The aim of the Cistercians was to live as simply as possible. Everything was to be plain. They always built in remote places, far from the towns. This must have been isolated once. Can you imagine it? The precincts were surrounded by a strong wall and always near water. Some were built on either side of a stream. We have the river nearby and that gives us our important fish ponds. The monks had to have a supply of fresh food. In the walls were watch-towers. I suppose they had to keep a lookout for despoilers. Look. Here is a map. You'll recognize much of it. Here are the barns, the granaries, shambles, work shops. This is the inner yard and this the outer."

"Oh yes." I said. "It is indeed recognizable."

"Here's the Abbot's House; the guest house is next to it. People were always calling at the Abbey and no one who needed food and shelter was ever turned away. Look at the nave. There were eleven bays. You can see it clearly in this map. You see, you enter by the narthex. And here is the transept. Look at the stall divided by a wall once ... the monks one side and the fratres conversi on the other. They were the novices ... Some of their quarters help to make up the Academy. They were not so badly damaged as the rest of the Abbey."

"What a wonderful map!"

"As it was in those days. And I have another as it appeared after the Dissolution. My family had that one done. Look, here is the calefactory, the day room."

"Our common room today."

He turned to me and said: "I am glad you are so interested."

"I find it fascinating."

"So many people are enamoured of the present and never want to look back to the past. Yet it is by studying what happened then that we are often better able to deal with the events of today."

"Yes, I suppose that's true. Thank Heaven they won't come along now and demolish our school."

"I should like to see anyone try with Miss Daisy Hetherington in command."

I laughed. "She is a very fine woman."

"We'll put our heads together over this pageant and get some really authentic touches."

"I think you should consult Miss Hetherington." He looked at me in dismay and we both started to laugh again.

"It has been very illuminating," I said.

"And you are surprised that I should be interested in such a serious subject."

"I am sure you can be very serious. There must be a great deal of work on the estate."

"It needs constant attention."

"Yet you were able to leave for long stretches at a time."

"I did, didn't I. I don't often do that. I have good people ... one very good man, Gerald Coverdale. You should meet him."

"Me?"

"You would be interested to hear about the estate. It is a little community of its own, like a town ... more than that, like a kingdom."

"And you are the king."

"`Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.'"

"I am sure you would never be uneasy."

"You mistake me. There is so much about me that you have to learn. You have dismissed me as frivolous, immoral, bent on pleasure. That is only a part of me. When I come to think of it, I have some very good points."

"It is said that good points should be discovered by others, not by ourselves."

"Who said so? Miss Cordelia Grant, I'll wager. It sounds like one of the homilies you declaim to your classes."

"They do say that schoolteachers are recognizable wherever they go."

"Perhaps there is something in that."

"We are inclined to be tutorial and give the impression of knowing all."

"Sometimes that can be charming."

"I can see you are determined to flatter me this afternoon. Tell me about the estate, this little kingdom with the uneasy-headed king."

"We have to keep it in working order. There are the farms and the factory."

"The factory? What factory is that?"

"The cider factory. We employ most of the people round here in some capacity or other."

"So they are dependent on you for their livelihood?"

"On the estate rather than on me. I just happen to have inherited it. The Verringers have always taken their duties to the estate seriously, and although I say it of my own family, we have been good land-lords. We have made it a duty to care for our people. That is why the cider factory was started about a hundred years ago. We'd had several bad harvests and lots of the farms were not paying their way. It looked as though there would not be enough work for a number of people. The cider factory seemed a good idea. Most of them were making it in their own homes, so we started it and we employ about a hundred people in the neighbourhood."

"You are in a way the benefactors."

"We always liked to think of ourselves as such." "The people should be grateful."

"Grateful. Only fools expect gratitude."

"I see the cynic has reappeared."

"If truth is cynicism then he is never far away. I always like to face the facts. It is a peculiar trait of human nature that people dislike those who help them."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes, my dear Cordelia. Just consider it. Who have always been the Verringers' bitterest enemies? Our own people on the estate. Who have endowed us with satanic qualities? The very same. Mind you, I am not saying that we do not possess those devilish habits, but it is our own people who are our own most vicious critics and, when our exploits are not startling enough, magnify them. The fact is, people hate feeling they owe anything to anyone, and although they take help, they hate themselves for being in a position to have to take it. As it is the hardest thing on Earth to hate oneself, that hatred is transferred to the helper."

I was silent. I thought of Mrs. Baddicombe who owed her living to the fact that she had been appointed postmistress by the Verringer estate and could not hide the venom in her voice when she discussed them.

"Perhaps you are right ... in some cases," I said. "But not all."

"No one is ever right in all cases. There must be exceptions."

We smiled at each other and I felt a glow of happiness. I was glad that the girls had gone off to try the horses and I was hoping that they would not return just yet.

"It is a pleasure to be able to talk to you reasonably .... seriously. In the past our encounters have been verbal battles. Amusing, stimulating, but this is a great pleasure to me. I want to talk to you about the estate. How I want to improve it. What plans I have for it."

"I doubt I should understand them."

"That's why I want to talk to you ... to make you understand ... and to tell you about my life and myself. Do you know, this has been one of the happiest afternoons I have ever known." I laughed. He had broken the spell. "That is going too far," I said.

"You laugh. But it is not so. I have had moments in the past when I am happy. But happiness is just moments, isn't it? From the time I came into this room and found you here, I have been happy. That must have been for twenty minutes. That's quite a stretch."

"It seems a very short time to me."

"I knew it would be good to talk to you. I knew you would understand. You make me see life differently. I wish we could meet often."

"That would not be easy. Miss Hetherington would be most disapproving."

"For Heaven's sake why?"

"I am employed by her and it would not be seemly for one of her mistresses to be too friendly with someone of the opposite sex living in the neighbourhood, particularly..."

"A man of my reputation. I doubt Mrs. Baddicombe would approve either. But then what a scoop for her!"

We were laughing again.

"Cordelia," he said seriously, "you know I am falling in love with you."

I stood up, but he was beside me. He put his arms round me and kissed me. I was trying to force myself to struggle free and not to accept the fact that I wanted to stay close to him.

"This must not be," I began.

"Why not?"

"Because I am not ..."

"I love you Cordelia. It started the moment I saw you in the driving seat with Emmet."

"I must go. Oh, where are those girls?"

As though in answer to my question I heard their voices. I withdrew myself and went to the window. I said: "They are coming."

"We'll talk more of this," he said.

I shook my head.

"Think about me," he said.

"I can scarcely avoid doing that."

"Try to understand. I want a happy family life. I have never had one. My frustrations, my disappointments have made me what I am. I want to be different." He was speaking earnestly now. "I want to live my life here, with my wife and the children we shall have. I want to make the estate the best in the country and above all I want to live at peace."

"I think your desires for these things are very natural but ..."

"Then help me to achieve them. Marry me!" "Marry you! But a short while ago you were about to marry Marcia Martindale."

"No. That was the Baddicombe version."

"You can't be serious. You are amusing yourself at my expense."

"I am serious."

"No ... not with Mrs. Martindale living so close ... I know very well that you and she ..."

The girls burst into the room.

Eugenie looked radiant. "They are superb, Uncle Jason," she cried. "I tried them both."

"Have we been too long," asked Fiona.

"No. You could have stayed longer," he said ironically.

"I'm gasping for tea," said Eugenie.

"Then ring for it," he said.

She did and it came; and Fiona poured out. Eugenie talked all the time about the horses, but I was not listening and I was sure he was not either.

I was wildly exhilarated and horribly sceptical as we rode back to school. Eugenie was still talking about the horses and said she was going to take Charlotte Mackay over to see them.