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The Return of the Gypsy
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Текст книги "The Return of the Gypsy"


Автор книги: Philippa Carr



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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

I was glad to escape from Edward.

And there was Peter who, having danced with Amaryllis, was now coming towards me. His step was light. He took charge of the dance. I went where I was led and it was like dancing on air.

He said. “What a happy day it was when I stopped at the Green Man. Do you know I almost went to the Cat and Fiddle. Suppose I had? I should not have been in the street… I should never have noticed the girl pretending to be blind … never have rescued you … never have been here tonight dancing with you.”

“And where should I be?”

“Don’t think of that. I was just marvelling at the good fortune which has brought me here. Your father still thinks of it. I heard him talking to Lord Pettigrew.”

“He won’t let it rest. He has many concerns in London. If it is possible to find out who those people were … he will.”

“They are probably out of the country now.”

“Do you think so?”

“In that sort of criminal underworld you never know what is going on.”

“My father is the sort of man who would never let any detail escape him. He doesn’t go so much to London now that he is getting older, though. But he was in all sorts of things earlier … and so was his son, Jonathan. We hear whispers of it in the family. I think perhaps Jonathan would be more suited to that sort of work than running an estate … just like his father was. Some people have the temperament… others haven’t. Amaryllis has quite a gift. She goes round the estate with her father. She has a gentle personality and the people like her. I have heard David say that you have to establish a relationship with the people on the estate. It is not merely a matter of keeping down rents and repairing homes. It’s a sort of comradeship as well. Amaryllis has that gift, her father says. Her parents think she is quite perfect. Mind you, they are not far wrong. In our family there are the good and docile ones and the wild rebellious ones. Amaryllis and I are good examples of both types.”

“I think you are both enchanting.”

“But different.”

“Well, of course.”

“You dance well. Where did you learn?”

“I was sent to school in England and then I had a year in the North with some cousins where I was supposed to learn how to live in graceful society.”

“That was before you went out to help your father in Jamaica?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, they certainly taught you well.”

“Dancing or the social conduct required in English society?”

“Both.”

“It is amazing to remember that we have known each other such a short time.”

“Yes, but we have seen each other frequently since our first meeting.”

“I’m grateful to Enderby.”

“How are you liking it in that great barn of a house?”

“I like very much what is close to it.”

“How long shall you stay?”

“It depends.”

“You mean on what you find here? Have you discovered anything that might be suitable?”

“To tell the truth I’ve hardly had time to look—what with the Christmas festivities and the kind hospitality of my good neighbours. I like Enderby.”

“Do you? It’s amazing how people become fascinated by it. There was my Aunt Sophie. She saw it and immediately wanted it.”

“It is a family house really.”

“Of course. Far too big for one.”

“It would change completely … with many children.”

“You are right. We should look for a married couple with a considerable brood.”

“The marriage need not be of long duration. The house could wait for the patter of little feet.”

I laughed. This was exciting. I thought he was going to ask me then. And what should I say? Could I say, It is too soon. I am not yet sure …

The dance was over and the servants were bringing round cooling drinks.

We sat for a while and then he said: “Excuse me. I am engaged to your niece for this one.”

I watched him dancing with Amaryllis. She was laughing and talking quite animatedly. I was glad that she liked him too.

Edward came and sat beside me.

Peter was a gracious host at Enderby on Boxing Day. Amaryllis and I congratulated ourselves on the decorations which we had helped to put up; and I must say the old house seemed to have lost entirely that dour ghostliness which had been such a feature of it in the past.

Peter had devised a very clever treasure hunt through the house and this provided a great deal of merriment for he had wittily phrased the clues which led from one spot to another. It was rather uncanny to hear the old house echoing with laughter.

There was a good deal in what David always said, and Peter had seconded it, that with people in the house Enderby would be just like any other.

“I never thought we should have a jolly time in this house,” said my mother.

“You’ve laid the ghost,” my father told Peter.

It was two days later when Peter had been riding with Amaryllis and me and on the way home came into Eversleigh for a glass of wine before going on to Enderby.

We were in the hall. My parents were with us and so were Claudine and David—when one of the servants came in and said that Farmer Weston wanted to see my father—and added that Farmer Weston seemed rather upset.

“Bring him in,” said my father, and Farmer Weston came into the hall. He certainly looked agitated.

“I want to have a word with you in private, sir,” he said.

“You can say what you have to say here. Anything wrong at the farm?”

“No sir … not exactly. It’s my Lizzie and … another. I’d rather talk in private.”

“Come on in here then.” My father led him into the room we called the winter parlour.

They were there for about ten minutes before they came out—Farmer Weston was very red in the face and my father looked quite angry, not with Farmer Weston though for he said to him quite gently: “Don’t worry. I’ll speak to him. Perhaps no harm’s done. Young people …”

He went out with Farmer Weston and soon afterwards joined us. My mother looked at him interrogatively.

“That scamp Jonathan,” he said.

“What is it this time?”

“Weston’s Lizzie.”

“She’s only a child. What is she? Fourteen or so?”

“That makes it worse. Jonathan’s not much older. That boy’s got a few things to learn. If he’s got to sow his wild oats he’d better choose somewhere else to do it—not on my land.”

My mother looked at my father and then at Peter.

“I’m sorry about his,” she said.

“Well,” said my father. “Young people. Hot blood. These things happen. I had a job to calm down Weston.”

Peter, showing a slight embarrassment as though he realized he had strayed into something which my father would have wished to be private, said he must be going and took his leave.

“He has impeccable manners,” said my mother. “Dickon, need you have blurted that out in front of him?”

“You asked me and I told you. Nothing very unusual about it. I think we shall have some more of that sort of trouble from Jonathan. Or the Pettigrews will. I was wondering if I ought to speak to Millicent or her father.”

My mother said: “You know Millicent. She can see no wrong in her boy. And Lord Pettigrew is too softly spoken. Now Lady Pettigrew … No, Dickon, you are the one who will strike fear into his wicked little heart. You’ll have to do it.”

“He’s his father all over again.”

“Well, Jonathan was a fine worker and he died nobly,” said Claudine.

“Yes, but all this philandering doesn’t go down well on the estate.”

“You are quite content for him to do it elsewhere?” I said.

“My dear girl, you know nothing about these matters.”

“Weston’s a good man,” said David. “His farm is a model for some of them.”

“And now he’s going to worry about his Lizzie,” put in my father. “If she presents us with a baby in nine months’ time, our Jonathan will be in trouble.”

“I suppose that was why Weston came to see you at once,” said David. “He wants you to know that Jonathan is responsible.”

“The young can be a plaguey nuisance,” said my father. “He’s got to mend his ways. I’ll not have Eversleigh going to someone who is going to play ducks and drakes with it… that’s for certain. His father was no good on the estate.”

“Well, you had David,” said Claudine.

My father grunted.

“We’ll see how the young scamp shapes up. I’ll have to see him. I’m going to my study. Get the servants to find him and send him to me at once.”

The incident had curbed the festive spirit. Everyone was a little subdued and I noticed that there was a certain defiance about Jonathan after his session with my father.

My mother had the full story from my father and she told it to me.

“Farmer Weston caught the pair of them in one of his barns. He was astounded. You know what a godfearing man he is … regular at church every day … and all the little Westons likewise. To find young Lizzie … flagrante delicto with Jonathan shocked him deeply. Well, I suppose it would most parents. Of course, your father understands … and isn’t as hard on them as some would be. What annoys him is that it is Weston’s daughter and on the estate. He was talking about bringing Jonathan over here to learn estate management… but I am not sure now. It’s a pity there aren’t more boys in the family.”

“Why do they imagine a woman can’t run an estate?”

“Largely because they can’t.”

“David is excellent. How lucky there were two of them.”

“Dickon is always lucky. This will sort itself out. We shouldn’t pay too much attention to this prank.”

“Prank, you call it? Lizzie Weston loses her virtue and that is a prank?”

“That’s what your father called it. He was thinking of Jonathan.”

“Well, I can understand Farmer Weston’s concern.”

“So does your father. He says that if there are results it will be taken care of.”

“Well, that doesn’t really satisfy Farmer Weston.”

“Hardly. But at least it helps. I wouldn’t care to be in Lizzie’s shoes for the next few weeks.”

“And Jonathan will be let off with a caution. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“When was the world ever fair for women?”

“You seem to have made quite a success of things.”

“So will you, my love,” she answered.

“Perhaps,” I said, thinking of Peter Lansdon.

January came in with a cold wind blowing from the south east. Winter was with us. The trees stretched out their bare branches making a delicate lacy pattern against the grey skies; they seemed as beautiful as they ever did in the spring. People speculated as to whether there would be snow. The Pettigrews had left.

“Glad to be rid of them,” mumbled my father. “Let Jonathan make trouble in their patch if he must and leave mine alone.”

Peter had gone to London for a brief spell. He was not thinking of leaving Enderby yet, although his search for property was not proving very fruitful. But he had interests in London to attend to. He said he would soon be back.

Edward Barrington had gone back to Nottingham and Mrs. Barrington had caught a chill and had taken to her bed.

“You should go over to see her,” said my mother. “She is especially fond of you.”

So I went. I sat by her bed in the cosy room where a fire was burning in the grate.

“So good of you to come, Jessica. You’ve cheered me up a lot.”

“How did you get this chill?” I asked.

“Run down I think. I worry a lot. I do wish Edward wasn’t in the thick of all that in Nottingham.”

“These people are becoming a real menace,” I said.

“It’s spreading, I’m afraid. It’s a deadlock. Edward said that if they don’t have the machines they can’t compete with foreigners … and if they can’t make profits the men will lose their jobs anyway.”

“They can’t see that, of course.”

“They’re shortsighted, Edward says. I am glad his father has semi-retired. I do wish Edward could stay here for a while until it settles down.”

“It is his business. He feels he must be there.”

“Oh yes … but it worries me.”

“It’s a worry for us all.”

She reached out and took my hand. “I wish … He’s such a good young man.”

“Yes,” I said, “he is.”

“There are very few like him, you know. He has always been so reliable. How I should love to see him settled.”

Clare Carson came into the room. “I came to see if you wanted any more coal on the fire.”

“I think it is all right, thank you, dear. I was talking to Jessica about those terrible riots.”

“You mustn’t fret,” said Clare. “Edward knows how to take care of it.”

“Oh, I know. But I do hate to think of it. I wish …”

“It can’t last,” I said. “I hear they are imposing more and more heavy sentences on those who create the disturbances.”

“Sometimes that makes people more angry,” said Mrs. Barrington. “Clare, do you think you could go and ask them to bring us some tea?”

Clare went out and left us.

“The fire will get rather fierce,” I said. “Would you like me to put up the screen?”

She sighed. She would have liked to talk about marriage and she knew it was a subject which I wanted to avoid.

The tea came eventually. Clare took it with us and the talk was general—about the Christmas festivities, the weather and the prospects for the year.

On my way home I met Amaryllis with Peter. I was surprised. I had not known that he was back.

“I only arrived this morning,” he said. “I called at Eversleigh this afternoon and learned you were out. Amaryllis and I decided to take a ride.”

“We were just going back,” said Amaryllis.

“So was I.”

We all went back together.

During the next few days I noticed a change in Peter. He seemed preoccupied. I did not see him alone. I felt something must have happened while he was in London and I wondered whether some proposition had come up which meant that he was no longer interested in an estate near us.

Three days after his return he asked us over to Enderby to dine. The memory of that evening stayed with me for a long time. I don’t think I had ever been more shocked in the whole of my life.

Amaryllis had been absent the whole of the afternoon. She had returned to Eversleigh to change for dinner and we had all gone together in the carriage.

Peter greeted us warmly and said how glad he was to be back, and very soon we were seated at the table. He talked about his visit to London, how glad he was to be back and what a pleasure it was to see us round his table. It was all very conventionally convivial.

Then came the blow.

He said: “I think it is time we let you into the secret. I do hope you will all share our joy. We are going to be married.”

I stared at him. He had not asked me. Surely … I could not believe this was real. I must be dreaming.

He was smiling across the table at Amaryllis, who was blushing and looking extremely pretty.

“Yes,” he said, “Amaryllis has promised to be my wife.” He was looking at David and Claudine now. “My gratitude to Amaryllis’ parents who have told me they are willing to accept me as their son-in-law. And I am hoping we shall have the approval of the rest of the family.”

“Well, Amaryllis,” cried my mother, “this is a surprise!”

I knew that she had thought I was the one in whom he was especially interested.

“As soon as we saw each other… we knew,” Peter was saying.

Then everyone seemed to be speaking at once. Someone was talking of toasts. I felt myself behaving mechanically. There was a great lump in my throat. One thought was uppermost in my mind. No one must know.

I could not believe this was happening. I was so unsure of my feeling. I was not exactly in love with him. I had enjoyed his attentions. I had thought he was very seriously regarding our future. I was too shocked, too bewildered, to think clearly.

Amaryllis was smiling happily. She looked very beautiful. I lifted my glass with the rest. I noticed that Claudine was avoiding my eyes. She was sorry for me … Oh no, I could not bear it.

Had I betrayed my feelings? Was I betraying them now? I had to say something. I had to act normally. Did Peter know? Had he guessed? Amaryllis did not know. She would not be so happy if she did.

I heard myself say: “What a pity you didn’t wait. Edward and I were going to announce our engagement when he came back to Grasslands.”

Silence. Then exclamations of pleasure. This was what my parents had wanted. They had always wanted me to marry Edward Barrington.

“This is great news,” cried my mother jubilantly.

My father said: “So it’s to be two of them, is it? I didn’t think our Jessica would allow Amaryllis to steal a march on her.”

So they drank their toasts; and I sat there numb and thought: What have I done?

How like me to have acted on the spur of the moment. I should have been calm. But it had been the only way to cloak my feelings. I would not have them sorry for me—him too, knowing as he must have done that I had believed he was in love with me. And all the time it had been Amaryllis. I could not believe it even now.

Amaryllis was beside me. She put her arms round me and kissed me.

“I’m so pleased, Jessica. Edward is a fine man. Isn’t it wonderful … both of us on the same day.”

I said it was wonderful. I drank the toasts. And all the time I was longing to escape to my room.

I wanted to be alone to think about what I had done.

When we returned my mother came to my room. She knew me so well that I wondered if she had guessed.

She put her hands on my shoulders and drew me to her; she held me tightly for a few moments.

“My dear, you are happy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” I lied.

“Edward is such a good man. Your father and I have always liked him. We have always hoped …”

“Well, you are content now. But I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. I should have waited for Edward to be there.”

“I understand,” she said. “There was Amaryllis …”

“I wanted to share in it, I suppose. That was why …”

“Well, it is not important how and when the announcement was made. All that matters is that you and Edward …”

“I… I er would rather it wasn’t mentioned … not till Edward comes home. The Barringtons might be a little put out. After all, it should have been said when they were all present. I think it should be kept just in the family… until Edward comes back.”

“Of course …” she said slowly. And she was looking at me intently. We had been very close all our lives. It had been something which had always comforted me, but at that moment I was wishing she did not know me quite so well.

She kissed me tenderly, said goodnight and left me alone with my thoughts.

I was too bewildered to sleep. I was hurt and angry. I felt I had been deceived but was not sure who had done the deceiving. Myself perhaps.

I was vain. Although I lacked Amaryllis’ angelic looks I had thought myself to possess superior physical attractions. Now I had learned a lesson.

But I was sure in the beginning I had been the one. What had made him change? And what did I really feel? Was I brokenhearted to have been jilted … or something near it? My pride had been deeply wounded. It was not exactly that I was in love. I hardly knew this man. I had had romantic thoughts of him largely because of the romantic circumstances in which we had met. As for Amaryllis she knew him even less, yet she had had time to fall in love with him.

I could not really understand myself. And why … oh why had I been so recklessly foolish as to tell them that Edward and I were engaged? And I was engaged to Edward now. I had used him shamefully to extricate myself from an embarrassing position. Why had I not paused to think for a moment? How much more dignified, how much more honest it would have been to have sat there and taken the blow on the chin—as they say—and tried not to show how much I was flinching.

How typical of me to flounder in and put myself in an even more awkward situation.

I had a very restless night and the next day went over to Grasslands. Mrs. Barrington had recovered from her cold and was as brisk as ever.

I asked after Edward and learned that he was coming back the next day. I was determined to see him at the first possible moment.

Amaryllis was in a state of bliss. Not only was she in love but, being Amaryllis, at the same time she could spare a little pleasure because I appeared to be in a similar state.

I consoled myself that if I had not made the announcement Amaryllis’ happiness would have been clouded because like my mother, and others perhaps, she had thought I was the target for Peter Lansdon’s affections. It gave her great happiness to believe that I was in love with someone else because it left her free to enjoy her own bliss without the slightest twinge of remorse.

“Of course I always knew how Edward felt about you,” she said, “but I thought you were undecided. You’ve been a long time making up your mind.”

“I wanted to be sure,” I told her.

She giggled happily. “Isn’t it strange that you were the cautious one this time? Peter and I just fell in love at first sight. Isn’t life wonderful? Just think… if that awful thing hadn’t happened to you, I should not be engaged now. I do think Peter was so very brave to go into that house like that.”

“Yes, he was.”

She hugged me. “It’s so wonderful. I’m so happy, Jessica. It will be marvellous to be married on the same day. We’ll have to think about June. It seems a long time to wait.”

“I think it would be a very good time,” I said.

“Peter says it is far too long.”

It was amazing to see Amaryllis thus and I almost reminded her that she hardly knew the man she was going to marry. A few weeks ago she had not even heard his name. But what was the use? She was in love and she was going to be married to the man of her choice. I should be married, too, but not to the man of mine.

Edward returned the following day. I went over to Grasslands in the early afternoon. He was delighted to see me.

I said to him: “I want to speak to you alone … soon.”

“Now?”

“Yes, away from the house. Could we go for a ride? That would be easiest.”

“Of course,” he said.

He looked a little strained, I fancied. I guessed it was the usual trouble at the factory but he brightened at my suggestion and I warmed towards him. He was a very good man and I was sure he would do everything he could to help me now … and always. I was very lucky to be loved by such a man, how perverse of me it was not to return his deep feeling and to be so much more excited by the company of a man I did not really know. That was how I was beginning to think of Peter Lansdon. How was it that he had made me feel that he was exclusively interested in me and then suddenly I discovered it was Amaryllis whom he intended to marry? I would always be sure of Edward.

In a very short time we were riding together.

“Edward,” I said, “I have a confession to make.”

“A confession?” He was startled. We were walking our horses and he pulled up to look at me.

I went on: “You have often asked me to marry you. Do you still want to?”

“I shall always want you, Jessica.”

Waves of relief swept over me.

I said: “My confession is that I have told them … told them that we are going to get married.”

“Jessica!”

“Yes. It was most immodest of me. Amaryllis became engaged to Peter Lansdon …”

“Amaryllis? But I thought…”

“Things are not always as they seem. He saved me in London and when he came here he fell in love with Amaryllis and she with him. They announced their engagement at the dinner table and I thought, well… why shouldn’t I tell them about Edward and myself…”

“Do you mean … ?”

“What I mean is that I thought we had hesitated long enough.”

“We?”

“I. Oh, I’ve been silly … young and foolish I suppose, not being sure when I should have been. So I said, Well they are not the only ones who can be engaged. Edward and I have known each other for longer than they have and there are many more reasons why we should be married, so …”

He took my hand and kissed it. “What an odd place to hear this … on the back of a horse.”

We laughed. His face was transformed. The lines of worry caused by the Nottingham rioters had disappeared. He looked young … and so happy.

“Well, Edward,” I said, “it had to happen, hadn’t it? It was inevitable. My parents are delighted. They have a great respect for you.”

“Mine will be delighted too.”

“Then there is delight all round.”

“Oh, Jessica, this is wonderful. Let’s ride back and tell them all about it.”

So it was as easy as that.

I was sitting in the drawing room at Grasslands. Mr. Barrington had insisted on bringing one of his finest wines from his cellar. Mrs. Barrington was twittering round in a state of great excitement.

“There, Jessica. You’re our daughter now. I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made us all. Isn’t that so, Father?”

Mr. Barrington said: “It is what we have always wanted. Why you had to be so long about it beats me.”

“It was right and proper,” said Mrs. Barrington, although I believed she had chafed at my procrastination more bitterly than her husband had. “One has to be sure about these things. That’s so, isn’t it, Jessica? What a wonderful day that was for us all when you picked up Father on the road and brought him home. I wonder what happened to that gypsy. He must have nearly served his time.”

“It was seven years,” I said. “He will have done six of them.”

“How time flies! You were such an earnest little thing then, Jessica. You cared so much about that poor man. We all loved you for it didn’t we?”

Barrington Pere and Fils agreed.

My spirits were lifted in their company. I thought what a delightful family they were—simple in a way compared with my parents, and so lovable. My family for the future.

Edward said: “I want Jessica to come to Nottingham to have a look at the house. There might be certain things she’ll want to alter.”

“Yes, it’s always nice for a bride to make changes. We furnished the house, didn’t we, Father… how many years ago? Too many to remember. It would be a little old-fashioned now, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“But it will only be a second home,” said Mr. Barrington. “You’ll be back at Grasslands. Grasslands has become the family home, even though we haven’t been here so long.”

“We loved Grasslands from the moment we saw it,” said Mrs. Barrington. “I’ve never regretted coming here and you know that is mainly because of the family at Eversleigh. And now this … I’ve wanted it for so long. By the way, where is Clare?”

“She’ll want to be in on this,” said Mr. Barrington.

“I remember. She said she was going into the town to do some shopping. She should be back soon. When is the wedding to be?”

“My mother thinks about June,” I told them.

“June’s a lovely month for a wedding.”

“It seems a long way ahead,” said Edward.

“Hark at the impatient bridegroom,” laughed his mother. “We’ll want a little time to get ready, won’t we, Jessica?”

“Amaryllis is getting married too,” I said.

“To that young man,” said Mrs. Barrington, faintly disapproving. “Well, that was quick work. She hardly knows him.”

“I met him in the most dramatic circumstances,” I said.

“I know… and brought him to Enderby. Well, it’s funny how things work out. I think it is better when people have known each other some little time. There are all sorts of things you have to learn about people if you’re going to live with them. Father and I were engaged … for how long was it, Father?”

“Two years,” he said promptly.

“And then we’d known each other since we were children.”

“It certainly turned out satisfactorily for you.”

“Well, you see, we knew what we were getting.”

“We knew what to be prepared for.”

Mrs. Barrington laughed heartily and at that moment Clare came in.

“Oh, there you are, Clare,” said Mrs. Barrington. “Come and hear the news. Get a glass for Clare, Father. It’s happened at last. Edward and Jessica are engaged.”

She stood very still and I noticed that one of her hands which was hanging at her side was clenched.

“Oh,” she said. “I thought…”

“We all thought they’d taken a long time about it,” said Mrs. Barrington. “But at last all is well.”

Clare turned to me. “Congratulations … And you, Edward.”

“We’re drinking to their health and happiness,” said Mr. Barrington. “Here you are, Clare.”

She took the glass and raised it. Her eyes, which were fixed on me, glittered oddly.

Did Edward know she was in love with him? Did the Barrington parents know?

I supposed not. She had been in the household since she was a little girl… an unwanted orphan taken in by distant relatives … treated as one of the family and yet feeling perhaps not quite one of them, although I was sure the Barringtons would have done everything possible to make her feel so. And she loved Edward … really loved him. It was not merely her vanity which was hurt.

She had taken her blow more gracefully than I had taken mine. I had a great admiration for Clare Carson and I believed, with a tremor of uneasiness, that she would figure largely in the life I had chosen for myself.


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