Seven for a Secret (42 page)

we were enthralled by the Palazzo Pitti and the Boboli Gardens. We

took a carriage and rode out of the city into the rolling hills of Tuscany. Each hour of those enchanted weeks was a joy. Never had I dreamed of such happiness and to share it with the one I loved seemed the greatest benefit that could befall anyone.

It had to end, of course, but it was a time which would live with us for ever.

The Seven Magpies

And as those wonderful days sped by, I could even anticipate our return with pleasure, for I was eager to start my new life as the mistress of St. Aubyn’s Park.

It seemed miraculous that our difficulties had been so easily swept away. It was not really so very long ago that there had been that unhappy barrier between us and now we were completely happy. Crispin could not forget that I had come back to him, not because he could offer me a grand marriage, but because my love was unshakable. Mrs. St. Aubyn was welcoming to me and it seemed that, just as Fate will deal blow after blow to those she has decided to chastise, so will she shower blessings on those she favours.

Sometimes I was a little fearful of such happiness.

And then the faintest shadow appeared.

It was nothing just a fancy. Crispin had been round the estate that morning and in the afternoon he wanted me to go with him to the Healeys’ Farm. There was some trouble about one of the barns and the visit would give Mrs. Healey the chance to congratulate me on our marriage.

“You know how these people are,” he said.

“Mrs. Healey says you had been to see the Whetstones and Mrs. Whetstone had given you a glass of her special cider which you very much appreciated. So I think it would be a good idea for you to have a little chat with Mrs. Healey.”

I was delighted. I liked to meet the people on the estate and to receive their congratulations, to hear what a good landlord Crispin was and how the place had prospered since he took over.

He was late returning. He said he would be in at three and we would go off immediately. At three-fifteen he had not come and by three-thirty I began to be alarmed.

It was soon after that when he returned. He looked rather anxious and I asked him what was wrong.

“Oh, nothing much,” he said.

“I just got caught up. Let’s get going.

We’ll be very late otherwise. “

Usually he told me what was happening. I waited for him to do so, but he didn’t. I presumed that, as we had to leave at once for the Healeys’, there wasn’t time.

1 met Mrs. Healey, drank her cider and it was all very pleasant; and I forgot about Crispin’s arriving late.

The next day I was in Harper’s Green when I met Rachel. She told me that she had left Danielle with the nursemaid and had come out to do a little shopping.

“I can see everything is working out wonderfully,” she said.

“You look radiant.”

“I am so happy, Rachel. And you are too.”

“How different it was! I often think back to the days when the three of us were together … when you and I used to go to St. Aubyn’s and be taught by Miss Lloyd.”

“It seems a long time ago.”

“Such a change.” I saw the dark shadow in her face, and I wondered if she ever thought of Mr. Dorian hanging in the barn. It was a pity such thoughts had to come to spoil a cloudless morning.

Then she said: “I ran into Crispin yesterday. He looked very preoccupied.”

“Oh, where was that?”

“Near the Lanes’ cottage. Yesterday afternoon. He’d obviously been there. How good he is! He does look after them, doesn’t he? I know he always has. I’ve always thought it was so kind.”

We chatted a little more and it was not until later that 1 thought: So that was why he was so late. He had been visiting the Lanes.

Why had he not said so? Perhaps he had thought it was not necessary.

My mother-in-law said that now St. Aubyn’s had a new mistress we must have people to visit us more often.

That was how it had been in the old days, she said.

“And it always was so in the past, I believe. It was only when I became so frail…”

And when the guests came she did bestir herself a little.

I was busy those days. There was a great deal to learn about the management of a big house. Aunt Sophie was very helpful.

“You must show the housekeeper and the butler that you are in command.

They may feel otherwise that, because you come from a comparatively humble home, they will be able to browbeat you. “

I laughed.

“I don’t think so. Aunt Sophie.”

“You’re doing well. Crispin is proud of the place, remember.”

“I do. After all, he has given his life to it.”

“Therefore, it must be of importance to you. Mistress of St. Aubyn’s,” mused Aunt Sophie.

“I can tell you, it is beyond my wildest dreams. I wanted the best for you. I have written to your father and told him all about the wedding.”

“I have also written to him.”

I closed my eyes and saw it clearly. My father sitting in his chair and Karia reading the letter to him. I wondered whether they would read it to Tamarisk. She had not written, but she was apt to forget people when they were not there. I was expecting a note to say she was coming home. That was something she would have to write about.

My father would be delighted by the miraculous turn of events which had made marriage possible. I had written at length about our honeymoon in Florence. 1 was sure that would please him.

The days were so full that there was little time for visiting, but I did see Rachel fairly often; and one day I decided to call on Flora.

I found her in the garden. She was sitting there as she used to, with the doll in its pram beside her. I called to her; she turned her head and nodded, so I opened the gate and went in.

“Hello,” I said.

I had a shock then. I had thought this would be like so many occasions in the past, but when she turned her face to me I saw the wildness in her eyes.

I sat beside her.

“How are you today. Miss Flora?” I asked.

She just shook her head.

“And the … the baby?”

She gave a little laugh and prodded the pram with her foot.

“Sleeping peacefully?” I ventured.

“He’s sleeping for ever,” she said cryptically.

This was rather odd. I had expected the usual remarks about his being a little terror, up to tricks, or that he had a snuffle and she hoped he wasn’t sickening for something.

She turned to me and there was an odd expression in her eyes.

“They say,” she said, ‘you married him. “

“Oh yes,” I said, “I married him. We had a wonderful honeymoon in Florence.”

She started to laugh and it was not pleasant laughter.

“So you live up at St. Aubyn’s now.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You think you’re married to him, don’t you?”

My heart started to beat wildly. I immediately thought of Kate Carvel.

Could Flora possibly know anything about her? But it was all right.

She had been married before. There was nothing to fear from that quarter.

“You didn’t marry him,” said Flora.

“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously.

“You think you married him,” she said. Then she laughed again.

“How could you have married him?”

“Yes, I am married, Miss Flora,” I said.

I thought: I should not be talking to her. She thinks Crispin is still a baby, of course, that is what is worrying her.

I said: “I’d better be going. Miss Lucy will be coming back soon.”

She gripped my arm and said hoarsely: “You didn’t marry him. How could you? He’s not here.”

This was getting too wild and I was eager to get away.

I rose and said: “Well, goodbye. Miss Flora. I’ll come and see you again one day.”

She stood up beside me and came very close to me. She whispered: “You didn’t marry Crispin. They said you married Crispin. It’s a lie. You couldn’t marry Crispin. How could you marry Crispin? It’s not Crispin you married.” She started to laugh again that dreadful wild laughter.

“Crispin is not here. That’s where he is.”

She was pointing dramatically to the mulberry bush. She moved closer and peered into my face.

“That’s where he is. I know, don’t I? That man, he knew. He made me tell him. You can’t marry Crispin, because Crispin is there … There.”

I thought: She is completely mad. Her eyes were so wild. She was laughing and crying together. Then suddenly she picked up the doll from the pram and threw it with all her might at the mulberry tree.

I had to get away. Lucy would have gone into Harper’s Green to shop. I must find her and tell her that something was happening to Flora.

I ran out of the gate and down to the village street. It was with immense relief that I saw Lucy coming towards me with her shopping basket.

I cried: “Something has happened to Flora! She is saying

the oddest things about Crispin and she has thrown the doll at the mulberry bush. “

Lucy turned pale.

“I’ll see to her,” she said.

“You’d better go. People upset her. Leave her to me. I’ll manage.”

I was only too glad to do so; the sight of Flora filled me with misgiving.

As soon as he saw me, Crispin realized that 1 was disturbed.

“What’s happened?” he asked.

“It’s Flora Lane,” I said.

“I went to see her this afternoon.”

He looked alarmed.

“What did she say?”

“It was very strange. She’s changed a lot. She said that she had heard that we were married and it could not be.”

“What?”

“She said: ” You haven’t married Crispin. ” And then … oh, it was horrible! She pointed to the mulberry bush in the garden and said, ” You couldn’t have married Crispin because he is there. ” She looked wild and mad.”

He drew a deep breath.

“You shouldn’t have gone there,” he said.

“I’ve always visited her now and then. But she’s changed. I think she is really going mad. Before it was like an obsession. This is different.”

“Was Lucy there?”

“Lucy was shopping. I ran out and found her.”

“Lucy knows how to look after her. Heaven knows, she’s been doing it for years. Poor Lucy!”

“She told me not to worry.”

He nodded.

“Well, I expect she’ll settle down when Lucy’s there. I wouldn’t go there again, darling. It upsets you.”

“She used to seem as though she liked me to go.”

“Well, don’t worry. Lucy knows what’s best for her.”

1 could not forget Flora and I noticed the change in Crispin. I saw the haunted look in his eyes and the screen which came down, shutting me out. I began to feel that whatever it was which had disturbed me in the past was in some way connected with the House of the Seven Magpies.

There was constraint all through the evening. Crispin was a little absent-minded and I knew his thoughts were far away.

I said: “What’s wrong, Crispin?”

“Wrong?” He spoke almost testily.

“What should be wrong?”

“I thought you seemed … preoccupied.”

“Burrows thinks some of the fields at Greenacres should be fallow for a while. That will affect output, of course. He’s asking my advice.

Then there are those outbuildings at Swarles. I’m not sure whether they’d be a good thing. “

But I did not think his mood anything to do with fields lying fallow or outbuildings at Swarles Farm.

I awoke with a start. It was dark. A feeling of intense uneasiness had come to me. I put out my hand. Crispin was not beside me.

I was then fully awake. I sat up in bed. In the gloom I could make out his shape as he sat by the window, apparently staring out.

“Crispin,” I said.

“It’s all right. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Something’s wrong,” I said.

“No … no. It’s all right. Don’t worry. I’ll come back now. I just wanted to stretch my legs.”

I got out of bed and put a dressing-gown round my shoulders; and I went to him and, kneeling beside him, put my arms round him.

“Tell me what it is, Crispin,” I said.

“Nothing … nothing… I just could not sleep.”

35i

“There is something, Crispin,” I said firmly.

“And it is time you told me.”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about or me either, for that matter.”

“It is,” I said.

“And it is not new. It has been there for a long time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Crispin, I love you very much. You and 1 are as one person. I am for you and you are for me; and if there is anything wrong for you it is wrong for me.”

He was silent.

I went on: “I know there is something. I’ve always known it. It has been there between us.”

He was silent for a few seconds, then he said: “There is nothing between us.”

“If that were so, I should know it. You wouldn’t be keeping secrets from me … holding something back.”

“No,” he said vehemently, and I looked at him appealingly.

“Crispin, tell me. Let me share.”

He stroked my hair.

“There is nothing … nothing to tell.”

“I know there is something,” I told him earnestly.

“It is there between us. I can’t get close to you while it is there. It’s a barrier and it has always been there. There are times when I can forget it, and then I am aware of it. You mustn’t shut me out, Crispin. You must let me in.”

For some seconds he said nothing, and then: “There have been times when I have been on the point of telling you.”

“Please … please, tell me now. It is very important that we should share everything.”

He did not speak and again I entreated him.

“I must know, Crispin. It is very important that I should.”

He said slowly: “So much hangs on it. I cannot think what would happen.”

“I shall not have a moment’s peace until I know.”

“I see it has gone too far. 1 have been debating with myself. I knew I should have to tell you some day. It goes back years … to the beginning of my life.” Again he paused. His face was creased in anxiety. I wanted to comfort him, but I could not until I knew the cause of his trouble.