The adulteress (26 page)

"And I expect you are there a good deal."

"I practically live there. There is always a welcome and if I don't appear for a few days I am severely reprimanded."

"That must be very pleasant for you."

"It is," he said.

We had come to the Court. I said good-bye to Dr. Forster and he expressed hope that we should meet again, which I endorsed.

As I turned to ride toward the stable I saw Jessie. I guessed she was just returning from her visit to Amos Carew.

She was staring after Dr. Forster, who had turned his horse and was riding back to Enderby.

Jessie followed me into the stables; her face was very red, which may have been due to the exertion of walking.

"I saw you riding with . . . your friend. . . ."

"My friend? Oh, you mean Dr. Forster."

"I didn't know you knew him. . . ."

"I didn't till this afternoon."

I saw that her hand was trembling slightly. She seemed somewhat out of breath.

"Oh," she said. "You met him for the first time."

I suddenly realized that she was putting me through a cross-examination, which I resented. I dismounted and one of the grooms took my horse.

I smiled coolly at Jessie and walked so fast toward the house that she couldn't keep up with me.

As I entered the hall one of the maids came running down. "Oh, mistress," she said, "there's a visitor."

"Who is it?" I asked.

By that time Jessie came puffing up behind me, and the maid immediately addressed herself to her.

"He's come to stay for a while, mistress," she said.

"Who? Who?" cried Jessie. I had never before seen her so agitated.

At that moment Dickon appeared at the top of the staircase. He cried: "Hello . . ." and came running down.

I stared at him—no less aghast than Jessie.

He was smiling at me. "They insisted that I come," he said. "They seemed to think you needed looking after."

I was shocked and angry. My dislike of him was as great as it had ever been.

Jessie had recovered herself. "I must go and see about getting a room ready for you. And are you hungry?" ^*.

"Very," said Dickon showing his teeth in a grin.

He was aware of my feelings and was enjoying the situation.

At supper, which was taken at six, Dickon was very talkative. Dr. Cabel joined us, and Jessie, in view of her very special position in the household, as usual sat with us.

She had got over her dismay and was very affable to Dickon. The doctor seemed pleased to see him too.

Dickon said: "I was simply badgered to come. Zipporah's mother was so worried about her ewe lamb traveling alone."

"It was hardly alone . . . with seven grooms."

"Well, she considers it alone if you are not with a member of the family. T shan't have a moment's peace,' she said, 'until I know you are there to take care of my little girl.' '

"Really, Dickon, you're talking nonsense."

"Or words to that effect," he said. "So I simply could do nothing but gather together a little baggage and come along. I wanted to, you know. I wanted so much to see the place again. I'm longing to explore. What was the name of that wonderful manager?"

"Amos Carew," I said.

"Oh, old Amos. He's still here, I hope."

"Yes," said Jessie. "He's still here."

"He and I became very great friends," went on Dickon. "I shall go and see him tomorrow and get him to take me round the estate again."

"He'll be that pleased," said Jessie.

"And poor Eversleigh is not so well?"

"He's as well as can be expected," said Dr. Cabel, "after a seizure such as he has had."

"And he is so lucky to have you here, Dr. Cabel."

"I am glad to do all I can for an old friend."

"Old friends, yes. By the way, I miss one familiar face. Your daughter." He had turned his smile on Jessie.

She flushed—with pleasure I think. "Oh, Evalina did rather well for herself. She's a married lady now."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, indeed. She's Mistress Mather of Grasslands."

"Isn't that the other big house . . . ? There were three of them."

"Yes," I said. "Eversleigh, the manorial residence, then Enderby and Grasslands."

"The two rather less glorious luminaries," said Dickon, "but nevertheless quite bright when not put in the shade. So your charming daughter is mistress of Grasslands."

"Yes, she is. She's settled in very nicely."

"I wonder if she would like me to call."

"I'm sure she would."

I felt nauseated by the smile about his mouth; I was recalling that moment in the barn. He looked at me and knew it. He was becoming a very disturbing person now that he was reaching maturity.

We had left the table and dusk was falling when Dr. Cabel approached me.

He said: "Lord Eversleigh has had a restful day. He is conscious now. If you would like to see him for a few minutes?"

"Yes, I would."

It was the same time as it had been last night, I noticed, and remarked on this.

"Yes, there is bound to be a certain regularity," said Dr. Cabel. "That might persist for a day or so and then the pattern could change and the mornings could be the best time to see him. Are you ready now?"

He lighted a candle, for it was dark enough now for us to need one.

Dickon met us on the stairs.

"We are going to see Lord Eversleigh," said the doctor.

Dickon nodded and turned away as we went into the room. The doctor put his candle down on the mantelpiece beside the other one which was burning there. Jessie was at the bedside.

She put her fingers to her lips.

"Is he sleeping?" whispered Dr. Cabel.

"No. But he's drowsy."

"It won't do any harm for you to say a word to him," said the doctor to me. "I fancy he remembered your visit last night and was looking forward to another."

I went to the bed. His face was turned away and, as last night, his nightcap was slightly askew; his hand with the signet ring lay outside the coverlet. I bent to take it and just at that moment there was a movement at the head of the bed.

Dickon stood there.

Both Jessie and the doctor turned sharply. Jessie let out an exclamation.

The doctor went swiftly to Dickon and whispered something.

Jessie turned to me: "He wants you to take his hand. He knows you're here." I took the hand and kissed it just below the ring. I was thinking of Dickon's impertinence in coming in when it had been made clear that he was not wanted.

I felt the fingers curl round mine, though he did not move his position and half his face was still buried in the pillow; but his lips moved and I thought I heard him say: "Zipporah."

I bent over him.

"I'm here, Uncle Carl. You must get better. There's so much to talk about."

His eyes were closed and his head moved slightly. The doctor came back to the bed; he had evidently prevailed on Dickon to depart.

He seemed a little agitated. He raised his eyebrows and nodded to me.

"Better go now." He mouthed the words.

I followed him out of the room. Jessie joined us.

"That was rather upsetting," said Dr. Cabel.

"You mean Dickon's coming in like that?"

"Yes, we have to be careful."

"But my uncle couldn't have been aware of it."

"He was aware of something. I sensed the change in him. We have to be so careful. That is why I only want you to see him even when he is well enough to stand the strain of visitors."

"It was all so quick . . . and quite silent ... he couldn't have been aware . . ."

Dr. Cabel smiled at me as though he couldn't expect me to understand.

Then he said to Jessie: "I think I'll go in. It might be necessary to give him something to calm him down."

I said good night to them. I would go to my room. I wanted to read awhile.

I thought they were making a great fuss, although I deplored Dickon's irresponsibility in walking in to the sick room when it had been made so clear to him that he wasn't expected to do so. On the other hand I could not see that Uncle Carl, who seemed only just able to recognize me, could possibly have known about it.

I went to my room but I couldn't read. I was disturbed. First of all by Dickon's visit. What I wanted to think of was the pleasant afternoon I had had at Enderby but now these strange thoughts were persisting. It had all seemed so odd suddenly in that sick room that evening, although he had been lying in almost the same position with his face half buried in the bedclothes. His only response had been in the pressure of his fingers and his lips moving to say my name. I wished that I could see him alone. I supposed that would make no difference. But in the room tonight there had been something ... I was not sure what . . . something strange . . . something that was worrying me.

I must go to bed. Perhaps tomorrow I might look in at Enderby again. Was that too soon? Perhaps not, as I should not be staying here long. They had said to come again.

I liked Isabel Forster very much. She was the sort of woman

in whom I could confide. It was strange how my fate seemed wrapped up in Enderby. I half wanted to go and half wanted to stay away, for I couldn't enter the place without remembering that day when Gerard had said he would show me the house. I wondered whether the brocade curtains still enclosed the four-poster bed or whether Isabel Forster had changed the inside of the house as much as she had outside. I felt if I went to sleep I would dream of that house . . . lying in the bed there with my lover beside me . . . while the sounds of the nearby fair echoed in my ears. Then I would long to be back in time. I was never going to forget.

So I lay thinking of long-ago adventures, of my own sweet daughter in whom I fancied I sometimes saw something of Gerard. Oh, it was long ago. It must be forgotten as he surely would forget. I wanted to go home. There was very little I could do here. Uncle Carl was in his doctor's hands. If he grew very much worse they could let me know. He might go on for years in this state . . . and it was clear that Jessie—with the help of the doctor—would do everything in her power to keep him alive.

I dozed. Then I was awake. I wondered what Dickon was doing now. He was hardly likely to be in bed. Would he try to see Evalina? I could imagine what would happen if he did. But I didn't want to think of Dickon. I was just angry that he had dared to follow me here, pretending that it was his mother and mine who had insisted that he come. As if anything would ever get Dickon to do what he did not want to.

No, he was fascinated by Eversleigh. Perhaps he wanted to see Evalina again. I was sure the fact that she now had a husband would have little effect on his plans.

I had dozed again and awakened startled.

I had been dreaming and my dream had been vivid. I was in the room. It was the night which had just passed. Jessie was at the bedside and so was Dr. Cabel. I was looking down at my uncle and his hand was lying on the coverlet.

I was staring at his hand—at the signet ring with the unmistakable Eversleigh crest on it. But it was his hand which held my attention. It was pale, unblemished. Where the flowers of death had been there was just plain white skin.

I sat up in bed.

No. I was imagining it. But I had it so clearly in the dream. Why should I dream that? I could really believe that the hand

I saw in my dream was exactly as I had seen it that night. Had a faint surprise come to me then? It had been disturbed by the sudden realization that Dickon was in the room.

No. It was just imagination. I had just not noticed.

I lay down and tried to sleep, but it was a long time before I was able to.

When I got up next morning the imaginings of the night seemed not worth thinking of for a moment. My main concern was to avoid Dickon. I went for a walk almost to the sea and back. I was hoping I would meet someone from Enderby but I thought it was too soon to call yet—which I should have liked to do.

We met for the midday meal. Dickon was in high spirits. He told us he had explored the house and called on Amos. He had ridden out with Amos for about an hour and he was delighted to be back.

"Eversleigh!" he cried. "What a mine of treasure! Well, I suppose it has been collected through the centuries. I couldn't find one or two of my favorite pieces from last time I was here. I suspect you, Mistress Jessie!" He paused and wagged a finger at her. She blanched and I saw her fingers catch at the table. "Yes," he went on, "I suspect you of that female habit of changing things round."

She relaxed a little. "Well, I like a bit of change . . . now and then."

"Don't we all," said Dickon. "Variety adds flavor to the monotony of the day. When I was last here I was very taken with the jade collection. Uncle Carl traveled a great deal and picked up some pieces, as they say. I reckon his jade is worth a good deal."

"He acted a bit strange before his seizure," said Jessie.

"That's not unusual," put in the doctor. "You did tell me something about that. Didn't he have an obsession about being short of money and talk of selling some of his possessions . . . pictures, I thought you said."

"I wasn't sure," said Jessie. "He'd have people to the house . . . and then perhaps you'd notice something wasn't there. . . . You'd just find it gone. But he used to hide things. Put them in different places."

"How very disconcerting," said Dickon. "Well, there is that piece of jade I missed. I'll go hunting. I expect he's put it

somewhere. It'll be a pleasant exercise. I do hope he didn't sell the incense burner. That was a very special piece, I believe, ..and a great favorite of mine."

"It's very likely here somewhere," said Jessie. "You must describe it to me and I'll get the maids to look. It's very likely hidden away in some place you'd least think to find it."

"We'll have a new game . . . hunt the jade," said Dickon. "By the way, I hope he wasn't upset last night."

"Well, he was a little disturbed," said the doctor.

"Because I appeared, you mean. He didn't even look at me. He couldn't have seen me with that nightcap right down over his eyes."