The adulteress (7 page)

"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 Carlot-

ta—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-con-

spiratorial 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."