Текст книги "Britannia All at Sea"

Автор книги: Betty Neels

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

The morning passed pleasantly, and Britannia, with the prospect of an equally pleasant afternoon, ate her lunch with appetite, submitted to Zuster Hagenbroek’s massage and exercises and then obliged Corinne by minding the baby for a while while his mother went off to help organise the evening with her mother. He lay in the crook of her arm, smiling windily at her from time to time and making tiny chirruping noises, and presently fell asleep, and because she was afraid to disturb him by reaching for her book, she closed her eyes too.

It was Madeleine’s voice which roused her from her doze. ‘What a picture!’ declared her sweet, high voice from the doorway. ‘Mother and child—only of course Britannia isn’t a mother—in any case she looks quite unsuitable for the role with that bruise.’

Britannia turned her head. The professor was standing there and so was Madeleine, elegant—breathtakingly so—in a red fox jacket and a suede skirt. She said ‘Good afternoon,’ politely and hated the professor for not reproving the girl for her rudeness. She barely glanced at him, but fixed her eyes on his top waistcoat button and said quietly: ‘Please don’t wake the baby.’

The professor spoke softly to his companion and Madeleine gave him a surprised look which turned to ill-humour. Britannia had no idea what it was she snapped in answer, but she turned on her heel and went and he came into the room.

‘Corinne seems to be making use of you,’ he observed mildly.

‘She had to do something or other, and the other children are out in the grounds with the two nannies.’

He sat down cautiously on the chaise longue beside her injured ankle, and said to surprise her: ‘I’m sorry that Madeleine was rude—she’s a highly strung girl and doesn’t always choose her words. You didn’t look very pleased to see us.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘Jealous of the fox jacket?’

Britannia wiped away a dribble on the baby’s chin. ‘What a silly question,’ she said coldly. ‘How could I be jealous of anyone who wears the skin of a trapped animal?’ She added austerely: ‘I hope you had a good day at the hospital.’

‘You know, if you didn’t ask me that each day when I get home, I should feel positively deprived. Yes, I had a good day. I’m home early because everyone in Holland who can get home does so on St Nikolaas. Zuster Hagenbroek will be going to the bosom of her family in half an hour or so; she will come back quite late, I expect.’

‘I’m glad she can go home.’ It was a pity she couldn’t think of anything else to say; the conversation so far had hardly sparkled.

‘And how will you manage?’ he asked blandly.

‘Very well. I’m perfectly able to look after myself.’ She added with a rush: ‘I’m well enough to go home, if you would be so kind as to arrange it.’

‘All in good time, Britannia. You have enough to read? I daresay my sisters have called in on you…’

‘Yes, thank you, and yes, they have. I enjoyed it.’ She wouldn’t look at him while she sought for something else to say. Since he appeared to have settled himself he could at least help the conversation along.

The little silence was broken by Corinne’s whirlwind entry. ‘You dear girl,’ she exclaimed warmly, and: ‘Hullo, Jake—here, take your nephew and give Britannia a rest.’ She dumped her son in the professor’s arms and sat down on a low chair by the fire. ‘Well, we’re all ready and the children are in such a state of excitement I should think they’ll all be sick later on.’ She glanced at them both. ‘Having a nice chat, were you?’ she asked. ‘Did I interrupt something?’

The professor didn’t bother to answer it, it was Britannia who said: ‘No—we were only passing the time of day.’

‘Oh, good. I told Emmie I’d have tea with you, Britannia, do you mind? I can’t stand having to sit and listen to Madeleine dripping platitudes in that sugary voice.’

‘I will not tolerate discourtesy towards my guests, Corinne,’ observed the professor severely.

She made a face at him, got up and took her small son from him and tweaked her brother’s imposing nose. ‘You old humbug,’ she said. ‘I may be fifteen years younger than you, but I’ve got eyes in my head, you know. Are you going to the sitting room for tea?’

‘You have never grown up, my dear, have you? No, I have some work to do.’ He added with some force: ‘And no remarks about that, if you please.’

He smiled at her, nodded to Britannia and went away, and Corinne, settling down in her chair again, remarked: ‘He’s an old dear, isn’t he? Bad-tempered, of course, but then so was Father, and he hates to be bested, though I don’t suppose anyone’s ever succeeded in doing that; he’s so clever, you see, and he knows just about everything, although he hasn’t a clue how to manage his love life,’ she added artlessly. Her blue eyes smiled into Britannia’s. ‘He’s a super brother and he’ll make a gorgeous husband to the right girl. Do you like Madeleine?’

‘I don’t know her.’ Britannia had almost been caught off guard. ‘She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?’

‘So are you.’

Britannia pinkened a little. ‘Thank you. Tell me, how is it that you all speak such wonderful English?’

‘We had a nanny—a fierce old bird; and then we had a governess, and Father always made us speak English at meals, and Jake kept it up, and now we’re all married and none of us have lost the habit. You don’t speak any Dutch?’

Britannia shook her head. ‘No—well, about six words, and if someone says something easy like “Are you cold?” very slowly, I can understand them. Otherwise it’s hopeless.’

‘You’ll learn. Here’s tea, and I’m famished.’ Corinne handed Britannia the baby. ‘Tuck him under your arm, will you, and I’ll pour.’

Alone again after tea, Britannia lay listening to the distant small voices echoing up the staircase; there were a lot of children—she could imagine how excited they must be, although she was a little uncertain as to what exactly was to happen. She had been going to ask Zuster Hagenbroek, but that dear soul had already gone and although Emmie had been in once or twice to see if she wanted anything, her Dutch just wasn’t up to asking; even if it had, she would never have understood.

But she was to find out. She was reading by the light of the table lamp beside her when the professor returned. ‘The Sint arrives in ten minutes—do you want to comb your hair or anything before I take you downstairs?’

‘Me? Downstairs? Why?’

‘My dear good girl, you don’t really imagine that I—or anyone else for that matter—would leave you sitting here alone when St Nikolaas comes to call?’

‘I’m not dressed.’

His eyes swept over her pink woolly housecoat with its ruffled neck and velvet trimming. ‘You are a good deal more dressed than most of the ladies downstairs.’ He walked over to the dressing-table and came back with a hairbrush and a mirror. ‘Here you are. Where do you keep the things you put on your face?’

She was studying her face, a normal size now but still blue and yellow all down one side. ‘I’m a fright. They’re in the bathroom, on the shelf.’

She brushed her hair and tied it back neatly, powdered her nose and applied lipstick. ‘There, am I all right?’

He picked her up and started for the door. ‘My darling girl, not only are you all right, you’re quite breathtakingly beautiful.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE PROFESSOR’S REMARK, coming as it did after several days of coldness, so astonished Britannia that she stayed quiet as he took her downstairs and across the hall, this time not to the sitting room but down a wide passage at the side of the staircase, with doors on one side and a big arched door at its end. Outside this he paused, kissed her hard and swiftly and pushed the door open with his foot. The room was very large, with enormous windows with crimson curtains drawn across them to shut out the chilly dark evening. The floor was of polished wood with a great centre carpet and the furniture was satinwood, upholstered in shades of rose and cream and blue. Britannia, laid gently on to a sofa drawn up to one side of the great hearth, stared around her with great interest. It was a very grand room and the people in it looked grand too. The women had dressed for the occasion and she quite saw what Jake had meant when he said that she was more dressed than the other ladies present, for whereas she was muffled to the throat in cosy wool, they were in long evening gowns, beautiful garments such as she had often gazed at in Fortnum and Mason’s windows or Harrods, and the men were in black ties to complement them. Very conscious of her prosaic appearance, she smiled rather shyly at Mevrouw Luitingh van Thien, who came across the room to sit beside her.

‘My dear, how very nice that you can join us,’ said that lady in a ringing voice. ‘How pretty you look, and how I wish I had your lovely hair. You know everyone here, don’t you? I must warn you that presently it will become very noisy and you are to say immediately if you get the headache.’

She patted Britannia’s arm, her severe features lighted by a delightful smile. ‘Jake’s two uncles are here, you shall meet them presently, they are talking to Madeleine.’

Which gave Britannia the chance to look at her. Oyster crêpe, cut far too low for such a bony chest and too elaborate for the occasion. Quite unsuitable, almost as unsuitable as Britannia’s own garment. She looked away quickly and met the smiling eyes of Corinne. ‘We’re going to sit near you, so that you will know what’s happening. Jake has to be at the other end of the room to welcome the Sint. You see, we do it exactly the same every year, if we didn’t the children would be disappointed. He’s coming now.’

The big doors opened once more and the Sint entered, with Zwarte Piet behind him. The professor greeted him with a short speech and everybody clapped while he walked, with the professor showing him the way, down the centre of the room to where a space had been cleared for him and his attendant. He was an imposing figure in his crimson and purple robes and his mitre set on a head with a lavish display of white hair and beard. He carried a book which Corinne whispered held the names of all the children present. Provided they had been good throughout the year, each child would receive a present and an orange. Bad children were popped into Zwarte Piet’s sack, but this, Corinne concluded, seldom happened.

Several of the children had come to sit on the sofa with Britannia; now they were called one by one and advanced to receive their gifts, so that there was a good deal of paper being rustled and whispered exclamations of delight going on around her. She nodded and smiled and admired the boxes of paints, dolls, clockwork engines and the like which quickly strewed the sofa, and was busy tying a doll’s bonnet more securely when she became aware that the children had given way to the grown-ups. And certainly the good Sint had been generous; Corinne waltzed up to the good man, received her gift, kissed him for it amidst a good deal of laughter, and returned to the sofa to open it; earrings, quite beautiful ones of sapphires and pearls—antique and very valuable, thought Britannia, and then turned to admire Mevrouw Luitingh van Thien’s gift, a thick gold chain with a locket and quite lovely. Everyone else had something similar too, although she was relieved to see that Madeleine’s present—an evening bag—had a less personal flavour. She was quite taken by surprise when her own name was called and the professor said: ‘I’ll take it for you, Britannia. St Nikolaas has it from me that you have been a good girl and deserve your gift.’

He brought it over presently and she thanked him in a quiet little voice and undid the beribboned package. It was a headscarf, a Gucci, pink and brown and cream and a hint of green, a lovely thing. She wondered who had bought it and the professor, who hadn’t gone away, bent and whispered in her ear just as though she had asked him. ‘I hope you like it, the colours reminded me of you.’

She thanked him again and this time when she looked at him, his eyes were warm and he was smiling, so that she smiled too. She wasn’t sure what she might have said next if Madeleine hadn’t joined the little group round them, slipped a hand under the professor’s arm and made some laughing remark about her present. ‘And just the colour I wanted,’ she went on. ‘So clever of you, Jake dear, to choose it.’ She smiled down at Britannia. ‘That’s a charming scarf– I don’t suppose you have ever had a Gucci before.’

‘No.’ The sight of Madeleine’s hand on Jake’s arm, just as though it belonged there, made Britannia uncertain. ‘I shall love wearing it.’

Emma had joined them too; she began to talk to Britannia almost immediately and Britannia didn’t see Jake and Madeleine go away. The party began to split up into groups and the children made a dutiful round of goodnights. They had sung themselves hoarse as St Nikolaas had made his dignified way out of the room once more, they had drunk their lemonade and eaten their speculaas and as much of their chocolate letters as they had been allowed, now they were more than ready for bed. The room seemed larger than ever once they had gone, but very pleasant in the glow of the many rose-coloured lamps and the firelight. Presently Marinus came in with drinks and Britannia was just beginning to worry as to how she was to get back upstairs again when the professor returned, picked her up and carried her across the hall and into the dining room, where he sat her on a chair at one corner of the great rectangular table, her leg on a cushioned stool.

‘Oh, but I can’t,’ she protested. ‘It’s a family dinner party—and I’m not dressed.’

‘You’ve said that already. Here’s Corinne’s husband to sit beside you and Oom Jiers, and if you think that a strange name, he’s from Friesland.’

He left her with her two table companions and went to the head of the table at the farther end so that she couldn’t really see him very well unless she peered round Oom Jiers’ considerable bulk. It was small comfort that Madeleine was seated quite close to him, near enough to talk to him if she wanted to. Britannia decided not to spoil her dinner by trying to see what he was doing and applied herself to Corinne’s husband, Jan, and then to Oom Jiers, who proved to be a man of wit despite his elderly appearance.

They settled down to enjoy themselves. As Jan said, there was nothing like good conversation and good food to go with it, and it was certainly that; lobster soup, rich and creamy, followed by roast leg of pork with spiced peaches, served on a great silver dish and carved, suitably, by the professor amid a good deal of joking from his family, and as well as the peaches there were dishes of vegetables, handed round by Marinus and the two maids. Britannia, doing justice to her dinner, found it all the better by reason of the exquisite china upon which it was served and the rat-tailed silver spoons and forks, worn thin with use but as lovely as the day they had first been used some time in the seventeenth century.

The sweet was sheer luxury; mangoes in champagne, served in exquisite wine glasses, and they drank champagne too, so that by the end of the meal Britannia was feeling a good deal happier than she had done. All the same, as soon as they had had coffee she decided that she would make some excuse and go back to her room; it was, after all, a family gathering and although everyone—well, nearly everyone—had been very sweet to her, she was conscious of feeling an outsider. She had her opportunity quite soon, for the professor wandered round the table as they all got up to go back to the sitting room, with the obvious intention of carrying her there.

She didn’t give him a chance to speak but said at once: ‘I’ve had a simply lovely time, but I’d like to go upstairs now, if you wouldn’t mind.’

‘I mind very much, Britannia.’ He made no attempt to lower his voice and she was painfully aware that Jan and Oom Jiers were both listening quite openly; not only that, Madeleine, from the other side of the table, was watching them.

‘I think I’m tired,’ she elaborated.

He smiled then, a tender little smile which was just for her but which must have been seen by anyone who happened to be looking. ‘Shall we compromise? Don’t go to your room just yet, we will go to the little sitting room my mother sometimes uses, and sit quietly and talk.’

She supposed that it was the champagne that made his suggestion sound so delightful, but all the same she asked: ‘But your guests? You can’t leave them.’

‘Oom Jiers will fill in for me, won’t you? And they’re not guests—they’re family.’

She eyed him steadily, not caring now that their two companions were drinking in every word. ‘Madeleine isn’t family—or is she, Jake?’

‘You are a persistent young woman, Britannia. No, she isn’t family, but I—we have all known her for a very long time, she has come to our St Nikolaas feast for years.’ He added in a slightly louder voice: ‘Of course, if you prefer, I’ll take you to your room, we can talk there just as easily.’

It was the professor’s mother who clinched the matter. ‘Of course you can’t leave us now, my dear. Why not let Jake take you to the little sitting room for a while? It will be quiet there and when you feel rested you can come back and join us.’

Britannia hadn’t seen her join them, she had no idea how long the lady had been standing there but in any event, she didn’t seem to mind. She looked across the table and saw Madeleine’s face. If it had been unhappy she wouldn’t have agreed, but it wasn’t, it was furious, the lovely eyes narrowed, the mouth a thin line. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘I think I should like to do that, if it’s not being a nuisance.’

So she was carried once more across the hall and through a small arched door on the other side of it, to a much smaller room, but still large by her own home standards. She guessed that it was in the older part of the house, for the windows were narrow and latticed and the fireplace was an open one with a great copper hood above it. The professor set her down on a narrow Regency sofa drawn up to the hearth, turned off the wall sconces leaving only a couple of rose-shaded table lamps burning, and sat down in a winged armchair opposite her. ‘We all love this room,’ he remarked pleasantly. ‘Mama used it a great deal when we were children, we used to come and talk to her here while she sat and sewed. When my father came home he would come straight here.’

‘Was he a surgeon too?’

‘Oh, yes, and his father before him. He died ten years ago, he was a good deal older than my mother.’

Britannia looked around her, more at ease now because the professor had apparently forgotten that he had called her his darling girl and kissed her into the bargain. The room was charming and she liked the furniture—applewood and walnut and a golden mahogany and some delicate pieces of marquetry, all welded into a charming whole by the deep red and blue patterned curtains and covers. ‘It’s delightful. You have a very beautiful house, Jake.’ She sighed without knowing it. ‘Sitting here and sewing…’

‘I shall do exactly the same as my father.’ She gave him an enquiring look, and he went on: ‘Come straight to you here when I get home each evening.’

Britannia went pink; he was joking and it hurt, but she said austerely: ‘If you brought me here to make jokes like that, then I’d like to go back to my room, please.’

‘I brought you here to ask you, in peace and quiet, to marry me, Britannia.’ He was still sitting back in his great chair, relaxed and calm and she jerked upright the better to stare at him. The sudden movement hurt her ankle and she winced, and he was at once beside her, rearranging the cushion.

‘You seem surprised,’ he observed mildly. ‘Surely you must have expected me to do just that.’

Britannia said indignantly: ‘Of course I’m surprised! If it hadn’t been for this silly ankle I should have been back in England and how could you have—have asked me to marry you then?’

‘Easily enough, although the journey would have been tiresome, my dear.’

‘Yes, but I explained—I mean, about Madeleine…you said…’

‘You said, darling Britannia—you had a good deal to say, I have never met such a girl for giving her opinion about this, that and the other.’

She kept doggedly to the point. ‘But she’s here, in your house, you—invited her.’

‘To be honest, I did not. You must understand that for a number of years Madeleine has been spending St Nikolaas with us, it has become a kind of habit, and one can hardly say: “Well, Madeleine, we don’t want you to come any more,” can one? She has, over the last year or so, taken it for granted just as, I’m afraid, it was taken for granted that sooner or later I should ask her to marry me.’

‘She still takes it for granted.’

‘Oh, I think not; I have never asked her to do so, you know, and she must surely realise by now that I have no intention of doing so.’

Britannia looked at him lovingly. Men were a bit foolish sometimes, even a man like Jake, self-assured and brilliantly clever and knowing what he wanted, casually taking it for granted that Madeleine would give way with good grace to a girl he hardly knew…’ You seem very certain of me,’ she remarked with faint tartness.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘But of course I am; you may preach at me and take me to task on every possible occasion, but you love me, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ said Britannia, baldly, and was instantly joined on her sofa by the professor, who put an arm around her and observed with satisfaction: ‘That’s better.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Now let us be sensible and assess the situation.’ He paused: ‘Well, let us be sensible presently.’ He put the other arm around her and bent to kiss her, an exercise which took quite a time and which Britannia didn’t attempt to interrupt. After a little while he said: ‘How soon can you leave the hospital?’

Britannia lifted her head from his shoulder, the better to concentrate on her arithmetic. ‘Well, let me see, today’s the fifth of December, so a month away is the second of January, but I’ve got three weeks’ holiday owing, so I’d have a week to do plus sick leave to make up…’

‘Far too long—you’ll allow me to deal with it for you. I think it would be nice if we got married before Christmas.’

She lifted her head once more to look at him. ‘Jake—that’s three weeks away!’

‘Too long. Do you want to be married here or in England?’

She said instantly: ‘At home, please. Jake, you’re rushing me…’

His arm tightened. ‘Yes, I know I am, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.’

She leaned up to kiss his chin. ‘You’re really very nice when one gets to know you. I want time to get used to it all, Jake. Would you mind very much if we don’t make any plans for a few days—a week? Then I’ll do anything you say, I promise you. I’d like to tell my parents, you see they know about you, I—I told them how we met…’

‘Ah, so you knew, too.’

‘Oh, yes, but I didn’t think I’d see you again.’

The professor laughed gently. ‘You forget that I knew where you were, my darling. I had every intention of seeing you again.’

‘You said I had a sharp tongue.’

‘And so you have on occasion, my love, but it doesn’t worry me in the least, I quite enjoy it.’ There was a pleasant little interlude while he proved this statement, but presently Britannia said: ‘We ought to go back. I’d like to stay here with you for the rest of the evening, but it wouldn’t do.’

The professor looked as though he was going to laugh, although he agreed quite seriously to this. ‘But I shall carry you back to your room in half an hour or so. Emmie will help you get ready for bed. Is your ankle quite all right? We’ll have that strapping off tomorrow—I’ll come home after the morning list and see to it—you can try a little weight bearing once it’s off and the stocking is on. You’ll be walking quite soon provided you’re sensible about resting it.’

He picked her up and carried her back to the sitting room, and just as he had done earlier in the evening, bent to kiss her before he opened the door.

She was settled on the sofa by the fire once more and Jake went away again, to reappear presently with Marinus bearing a large tray with glasses, and Emmie behind him with a magnum of champagne in a silver bucket. Marinus put the tray down and went back again for a second bottle and Emmie reappeared with another tray loaded with small dishes of petits fours and canapés. A toast was drunk to St Nikolaas, someone went over to the grand piano at one end of the room and began to play and presently everyone was singing the traditional songs of the Feast of St Nikolaas, and Britannia, unable to understand any of them, nonetheless picked up the tunes and joined in, greatly helped by the champagne. Not even the sight of Madeleine crossing the room to sit beside Jake could shake her happiness. Poor Madeleine, imagining that she would marry him. Britannia, disliking the girl very much, all the same felt sorry for her.

The professor got up presently and came over to the sofa, reminded her that she was to go to bed, waited while she wished everyone a goodnight and carried her upstairs, calling to Corinne on his way to go with them, and once in her room he laid Britannia on her bed, kissed her gently on the cheek, wished her goodnight and went away immediately, leaving Corinne looking delighted and curious.

‘I suppose it is one of those open secrets everyone knows,’ she declared happily, ‘you and Jake. When are you going to announce it?’

Britannia was wriggling out of her dressing gown. ‘However did you know?’

Corinne giggled. ‘I don’t think I exactly knew,none of us did, but we guessed. Mother’s so happy about it, so are we all.’

Britannia felt a delightful wave of happiness wash over her. ‘How nice of you—only Madeleine…’

‘She hasn’t guessed. She’s so conceited and sure of Jake that she can’t imagine him falling in love with anyone but her.’ Corinne sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘None of us likes her, she wormed her way in and she was very clever, always good company for Jake and always at the same houses and parties and dinners…she was always there, you see, creeping into his life until he took her for granted.’

‘Go on,’ urged Britannia, and was disappointed when Emmie came in, taking charge with all the firmness of a trusted old servant, so that Corinne went obediently away and left her to help Britannia to bed.

But Britannia was too happy to lie awake worrying about Madeleine; she slept soundly on the thought that Jake loved her and they were going to marry very soon. This pleasant glow continued throughout the morning, and although no one actually asked her any questions, there was a good deal of family discussion in which she was included as though she were already one of them, and when after lunch Jake came home, he came straight to her room and with Zuster Hagenbroek’s assistance, took the strapping off the ankle, examined it at length, encased it in an elastic stocking, pronounced it well on the way to recovery and declared that he would be back in half an hour, during which time she could dress. ‘A stick and a strong arm is what you need now, we’ll try them out presently.’ He looked at Zuster Hagenbroek. ‘I think we can manage without you after today—if you can be ready, I’ll run you in after breakfast tomorrow.’

He went away, and Britannia got down to the business of dressing while Zuster Hagenbroek tidied the room and gossiped. She had heard about Britannia and the professor, she said happily, the whole household knew, and everyone was so pleased. She stopped to smile broadly at Britannia. Such a nice man he was too, very popular at the hospital and with an enormous private practice, but perhaps Britannia knew about that? And no puffed-up airs and graces, either, for all he was a wealthy man, but of course that wasn’t news… And when, asked the dear soul, was the wedding to be?

Britannia said that she didn’t know; nothing had been decided, but it would be a very quiet one. ‘And I hope that when I’m settled in you’ll come and see me, for you’ve been so kind—I don’t know what I should have done without you.’

Zuster Hagenbroek looked gratified. ‘Well, you’ve been a model patient—and here’s the professor back again.’

Britannia had done her face with extra care and brushed her hair until it shone. She had put on a tweed skirt and a pink woolly sweater which she knew suited her very well and now she turned to the door, her face alight with happiness as the professor came in. ‘Are you home for the rest of the day?’ she wanted to know.

‘I must go back to my rooms for an hour this evening—I’ve a couple of patients I have to see, but I’ll be back for dinner. How’s the ankle?’

‘Fine.’ She felt a little shy of him because this was the Jake she didn’t know very well, the calm, rather impersonal surgeon—not that she would have liked him to have been anything else while Zuster Hagenbroek was there.

He carried her downstairs, set her on a highbacked chair in the hall and fetched a stick from the wall cupboard. ‘I thought you might like to see over some of the house, darling. We won’t hurry and you can sit down every now and then, I know you’ve been in the sitting room and the big drawing room, but there are some quite interesting paintings and the silver is worth looking at too.’

He came over to her and pulled her gently to her feet and stood looking down at her, laughing. ‘Why do you look like that? Are you shy?’

She shook her head. ‘No, at least, only a little. You see, I don’t know you very well…’

‘My darling, but you do. The number of times you have pointed out my faults and given me advice as to how to overcome them…’

She stood within the circle of his arm. ‘I always thought you were such a bad-tempered man…’

‘I am, but not at the moment.’ He kissed her again. ‘Let’s start in the sitting room, shall we? We’re bound to meet the family, but we won’t let them hinder us.’

The afternoon was a delight to her; she had a natural flair for beautiful things and some of the portraits on the walls were beautiful, as were the silver and the porcelain in their great marquetry cabinets. They spent a long time in the sitting room before they inspected the dining room, the big drawing room, and a charming smaller room which was the little drawing room, with white-painted walls and soft pink and blue furnishings, little inlaid tables and a collection of watercolours hung on either side of the steel fireplace. Jake pointed out a Leickert, a van Schendel and a van der Stok which an ancestor had commissioned in the nineteenth century, and over and above those were a Carabain and two charming river scenes by van Deventer which he had bought during the last few years.