The Shadow of the Lynx (36 page)

There were things they could do, I pointed out. They could take paying guests, for instance.

“They wouldn’t know how!” Stirling laughed and in that moment he was amazingly like Lynx.

My feelings were in a turmoil. I set myself against them. I felt there was something in what Jessica had said. Lynx was still with us. And I didn’t want those people to sell the house. I was on their side.

Stirling’s eyes looked like pieces of green glass glinting through his sun-made wrinkles. He was so like Lynx that my spirits rose and I was almost happy. Whatever I said, he would acquire Whiteladies. It would be as Lynx wanted it. The Herrick children would play on the lawns and in time be the proud owners; and those children would be mine and Stirling’s. I could almost hear Lynx’s voice: “That’s my girl Nora.”

And I thought of the lawn on which I had once sat uneasily and the house with its grey towers—ancient and imposing—and understood the desire to possess it.

“The first thing to do is to let it be known that we are looking for a house,” said Stirling.

“We have taken a fancy to the district and want to settle here for a while. We are particularly interested in antiquity and have a great fancy for a house such as Whiteladies. I have already mentioned this to the innkeeper.”

“You lose no time,” I said.

“Did you expect me to? I had quite a conversation with the fellow. He remembered our staying here before, or so he said. He tells me that Lady Cardew died and that Sir Hilary married the companion or whatever she was.” - “Her name was Lucie, I believe.”

He nodded at me, smiling.

“I thought she was very humble,” I went on.

“Not quite one of the family. That will be changed now, I daresay.”

“You’re very interested in them, Nora.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Considering we have come across the world to buy their house, I certainly am.”

“You arc too sure,” I told him.

“How can you know what

price will be asked? “

He looked at me in astonishment. What aid it mattery Me was the golden millionaire. But sometimes a price is not asked in gold.

That very day we paid a visit to the local house agent, and learned that a temporary refuge could be found which seemed the ideal place while we were looking round. By a stroke of great good luck the Wakefields were letting the Mercer’s House—a pleasant place and ideal for our purpose while we searched. Only, he warned us, there was no house in the neighbourhood to be compared with Whiteladies except perhaps Wakefield Park itself—and even that was no Whiteladies. We said we were very interested in renting the Mercer’s House and made an appointment to see it the next day.

The house agent drove us over in his brougham where Mr. Franklyn Wakefield was waiting to receive us. I remembered him at once and a glance at Stirling showed that he did too.

He bowed to me first, then to Stirling. His manners seemed very formal but his smile was friendly.

“I hope you will like the Mercer’s House,” he said, ‘though you may find it a little old-fashioned. I have heard it called inconvenient.

”

“I’m sure it won’t be,” I told him, secretly amused because the agent’s reports had been so glowing while it seemed that its owner was doing his best to denigrate it.

“In fact we are enchanted by it … from the outside, aren’t we, Stirling?”

Stirling said characteristically that it was in fact the inside of the house with which we must concern ourselves if we were going to live in it.

“Therefore,” said Mr. Wakefield, “I am sure you will wish to inspect it thoroughly.”

“We shall,” said Stirling, rather grimly, I thought; and I remembered that he had taken a dislike to Franklyn Wakefield from the first moment he had seen him.

I said quickly: “You understand we should only be taking the house temporarily?”

“I was cognizant of the fact,” said Mr. Wakefield with a smile.

“But I daresay that however short the time you will wish for the maximum of comfort.”

I looked at the house with its elegant architecture—Queen Anne, I guessed. Over the walls hung festoons of Virginia creeper and I imagined what a glorious sight it would be in the autumn. There were

two lawns in front of the house one on either side of the path—trim and well kept. I felt the need to make up for Stirling’s boorish ness by being as charming as possible to Mr. Wakefield.

“If the inside is half as delightful as the outside. I shall be enchanted,” I said. He looked pleased and I went on.

“Am I right in thinking it is Queen Anne or early Georgian?”

“It was built in 1717 by an ancestor of mine and has been in the family ever since. We’ve used it as a sort of Dower House for members of the family. At this time there is no one who could occupy it. That is why we thought it advisable to seek a tenant.”

“Houses need to be lived in,” I said.

“They’re a little sad when empty.”

Stirling gave an explosive laugh.

“Really, Nora! You’re giving bricks and mortars credit for feelings they don’t possess.”

“I think Mrs….”

“Herrick,” I supplied.

“I think Mrs. Herrick has a good point,” said Mr. Wakefield.

“Houses soon become unfit for human habitation if they remain unoccupied too long.”

“Well, we’d better look round,” said Stirling.

The house was elegantly furnished. I exclaimed with pleasure at the carved ceiling in the hall. -“That,” explained Mr. Wakefield, ‘is the Mercer’s coat of arms you see engraved on the ceiling. You will see it in many of the rooms. “

“Of course, it’s the Mercer’s House, isn’t it?”

We went into the drawing-room with its freneh windows opening on to a lawn.

“We should need at least two gardeners,” said Stirling as though determined to find fault with the place.

“Would they be easy to get?”

“There is no problem about that,” Mr. Wakefield assured him.

“The gardens are taken care of by our own gardeners at the Park. The cost of this has been included in the details the agent will have given you.”

“We are not concerned with the price,” said Stirling and I felt myself blush at what seemed to be his ostentation.

“Nor, I might add, are we,” went on Mr. Wakefield. He smiled directly at me.

“The important point is to find the right tenant. I am sure, Mrs. Herrick, that you and your husband would like to be alone to look over the house.”

I said quickly: “We are not husband and wife. I am a widow and Mr. Herrick’s stepmother.”

If he was surprised lie oicini snow n. Mr. Wakeneld’s manners were impeccable. He would have been brought up to believe that to show his feelings was the gravest social error. He, of course, added tact to his many social graces, and it was true that I wanted to be free to discuss the house with Stirling.

If you would let us take our time . “

“But certainly, and if you would care to call at the Park when you have finished … that is, if you are interested … I should be delighted to see you there. I could send a carriage for you, or if you cared for the walk it is just across the park—about half a mile.”

I said we would walk and he left us.

As the door shut on him Stirling threw himself on to a sofa and began to laugh.

“If you would care to inspect this domicile, madam, and then take a short peregrination across the park …”

“Shut up, Stirling, he wasn’t as prim as that.”

“Our landlord! My God!”

“It’s not the landlord with which we have to concern ourselves but with the house.”

“We should have to see him sometimes, I suppose. He’d call … or perhaps his wife would. Do you imagine he has a wife? I wonder what she’s like. She will alight from her carriage and leave three cards.

Is that the correct number? And we should be invited to call and be bored to death. “

“How do you know we should be bored? How do you know he has a wife?”

“Of course we’d be bored and of course he has a wife. Mr. Wakefield’s life would run according to a pattern and you can be sure that pattern includes a wife.”

“I wonder what Wakefield Park is like ” Great old ancestral mansion.

”

“Like Whiteladies.”

There is no place in the world like Whiteladies. “

“Well, are we going to take this house?”

“Let’s stay at the inn. If we’re his tenants that might involve social obligations.”

“Which I am sure you would have no hesitation in ignoring.”

“You are right for once, Nora.”

“For once! What do you mean? I’m going to look all over this house, and I can tell you this: I like it. I’ve a great

desire to know who the Mercer was and what connection a mere tradesman could possibly have with the elegant Mr. Wakefield. “

We inspected the dining-room and descended to the enormous stone-flagged kitchen. I liked it. I liked the large pantries, the still room the buttery and the laundry. It was a fascinating house.

“It’s big,” said Stirling.

“Too big for a millionaire!” I demanded ironically.

“You practically told him you were.”

“I felt you were on his side.”

“What nonsense! As if it were a matter of taking sides. Let’s go up the staircase.”

There were three floors and some twelve rooms. The rooms were big and airy; I loved the long windows which reached to the floor.

“We’re going to take it, Stirling,” I said; and he did not contradict.

He was really as fascinated with the house as I was; and being tenants of the Wakefields, we could almost certainly meet the owners of Whiteladies. I was not sure what plans Stirling had and how quickly he hoped to acquire the place, but I. guessed it would take a long time, and it would certainly be more satisfactory having the Mercer’s House than an inn as our temporary home while we waited.

“Well?” he asked, when we had been through the house.

“We’re going to tell Mr. Wakefleld that we’re taking it.”

We walked across the park and to the house which was called Wakefield Park. It was a big house—early Victorian, I judged, with its heavy ornate architecture. It looked strong and solid. On the front lawn was a pond in which a fountain played. White stone steps led to a terrace on which were seats. The flowers grew neatly, even primly.

“It’s just the sort of house he would have,” I commented.

“You can be sure everything is in its proper place,” added Stirling.

Then he mimicked: “It is fitting that each and every appurtenance of this house is lodged in the place assigned to it.”

“I don’t believe you like him.”

“Do you?”

“I like the Mercer’s House. That’s good enough.”

Along one wall of the house was a vinery. I could see the vine trained along the glass to catch the sun. There were pots of exotic-looking flowers in there too.

“You must admit,” I said, ‘that there is something imposing about his house. “

We mounted the steps of the terrace to the porch, on one side of which hung a bell. When pulled this gave a hollow clanging and almost immediately a manservant appeared.

“You would be Mr. and Mrs. Herrick,” he said.

“Mr. Wakefield is in the library with Sir Everard and her ladyship. I’m requested to conduct you there.”

I threw Stirling a glance as much to say: “You see how well ordered everything is.”

“What did you expect from Mr. Wakefield?” he flashed back.

The hall was enormous and somewhat oppressive. The heads of two stags adorned the wall on either side of that of a tiger. There were various portraits which we had no time then to study. A staircase with elaborately carved banisters curved upwards. We mounted this in the wake of the butler.

“Mr. and Mrs. Herrick!” he announced after knocking and opening a door.

Mr. Wakefield was there with a youngish man and an elderly man and woman.

“So good of you to come,” said Mr. Wakefield.

“May I present you to my parents—Sir Everard and Lady Wakefield and Dr. Hunter.

Lady Wakefield was a frail old lady who gave me a pleasant smile; then I turned to Sir Everard.

“You will forgive my not rising,” he said; and I noticed he was in a wheelchair with a tartan rug about his knees.

The doctor shook hands.

“Dr. Hunter has just been making one of his calls,” said Lady Wakefield.

“If you are going to live here, and need a good doctor—which I hope you won’t—you will find him excellent. Franklyn, do ring for fresh tea.”

“I have already told them to bring it if and when Mr. and Mrs. Herrick called,” “So thoughtful,” said Lady Wakefield with an adoring look at her son, who said in his dignified manner: “Pray be seated.”

“We have come to tell you that we are delighted with the Mercer’s House,” I told him, ‘and we want to take it. “

Splendid,” said Mr. Wakefield.

“It’s time it was lived in,” added Sir Everard.

“It doesn’t do the place any good to be left standing empty.”

“It’s a charming old place,” put in the doctor.

There was a knock at the door and a trolley was wheeled

in accompanied by a footman and a parlour maid Life was clearly lived in an elegant fashion at Wakefield Park.

“Mr. and Mrs. Herrick are looking for a house in the neighbourhood, I gathered,” said Franklyn.

“That’s why they are taking the Mercer’s House temporarily.”

“They are not easy to find,” the doctor warned us.

“That is, if you want a house of character.”

“We do,” I replied.

“We have noticed a charming old place,” began Stirling.

“Whiteladies!” Lady Wakefield smiled.

“A most unusual place. It’s actually built on the site of an old convent. In fact some of the old convent still remains.”

The Cardews are great friends of ours,” said Sir Everard.

“If you come here to live you will be meeting them.”

That will be very interesting. ” Stirling gave me a look which was almost a grimace and I said quickly: ” We are very intrigued by the Mercer’s House and are wondering how it came to have such a name. “

“My great-great-grandfather built it,” explained Mr. Wakefield.