‘I was at first. Now … I am not sure. There is so much of interest here.’
‘Encounters with beggars, duels?’ he suggested.
‘And meeting interesting people,’ I told him.
‘There must be interesting people whom you meet in your home.’
‘Yes,’ I admitted, ‘but … different.’
And I thought then: I have never met anyone like you. I knew then that as long as I lived I never would.
When he left he took my hand in his and kissed it.
He said: ‘I shall call again.’
I watched him ride away, and then I went up to my room because I wanted to be alone to think about him. If I had to return to Cornwall now, how should I feel? I should be wretched. Wretched to go to my beloved home, to see my dearest mother and the sister who was part of myself! What had happened to me?
I half suspected that, in my impulsive thoughtless way, I was in love with Richard Tolworthy.
The weeks slipped quickly by. Senara left and I was sad to say goodbye to her, for I felt I had lost a friend. True to his promise, General Tolworthy called on us. Sir Gervaise could not understand at first. ‘General Tolworthy seems to have become very friendly towards me suddenly,’ was his comment. We were invited to functions where we met him and we had many conversations together.
Carlotta thought he had conceived a passion for her which, being the man he was, he would keep secret. She made much of him and consequently she frequently invited him to the house. I was rather amused because deep in my heart I knew that it was not Carlotta who interested him. There was something inherently serious about him—almost secretive; but there was a rapport between us; we did not have to speak much; he did not even have to single me out particularly, but I knew in my heart that I was the one he came to see.
Now I was afraid that my mother would say I must return, and I had visions of slipping out of his life and I wondered whether he would let me go. Much as I longed to see my family, I could not endure the thought of leaving him.
‘My dearest Angelet,’ she wrote.
‘First let me tell you that your sister is improving, though she has a long way to go. I can tell you now that she has come very near to death. She is so weak still that she must keep to her bed. She sends her dearest love to you, my darling, but is too weak to take up her pen to write to you herself. You may be sure that when she is strong enough she will do so.
My aim is to nurse her back to her former strength. The physicians tell me that will take months and that it is little short of a miracle that we have her with us. I want you, my daughter, to endure this long separation as best you can. I would not have you here just yet and if you can assure me that you are well and happy I will content myself and look forward to your return as we all do …’
I read that letter over and over again. It filled me with joy. I was pleasing my mother by staying and I knew now that more than seeing my sister, more than being with my mother, I wanted to be here, where each day I awoke with the thought: It could happen today.
I meant that General Tolworthy might that day ask me to be his wife.
Winter had come. I had never before spent a Christmas away from home. My mother had written to me sending me silk to make a gown and telling me not to be too unhappy because I should not be with them this year. The festivities at Trystan would be less merry than usual, for Bersaba was so easily tired and must spend several hours each day on her bed.
The mummers would come, she doubted not, and there would be the carol singers; Aunt Melanie and Uncle Connell had insisted on coming to be with them, but my father, Fennimore and Bastian would not be there, so a great deal of usual activities would not take place.
‘Next Christmas,’ wrote my mother, ‘I trust we shall all be together.’
So Christmas was celebrated at Pondersby Hall, and although we did have a lord of misrule, it was far less simple than our Christmases at home. For instance, there was a masque where we did a Spanish play which Carlotta managed for us and in which we all had to play a part. We rehearsed for two weeks before Christmas and we performed it both on Christmas Day and Twelfth Night. Carlotta, of course, was the central character and she acted with great skill and charm, and it was true that numbers of the young men regarded Sir Gervaise enviously and gazed at Carlotta with longing eyes. So it was not surprising that she counted Richard Tolworthy among her admirers.
He went away immediately after Christmas and weeks elapsed before I saw him again. I began to fret thinking that he had forgotten all about me.
January came and with it the snow. We had it so rarely in Cornwall that I could only remember seeing it three times. Then how excited we had been. We had pelted each other with snowballs and I remember that Bastian was there and had made Bersaba his special target.
Now it was different. We did not play at snowballs but we skated on the ponds and that was good fun, but all the time I was thinking of Richard and wondering if I should ever see him again.
It was a dark early February day when he rode over. The roads which had been impassable were clear again, and all that was left of the recent snow was mounds of it in the fields and against the hedgerows.
There was a great fire in the hall when he came in. I heard him asking the footman if Sir Gervaise was at home, and I went into the hall trying to look as though I had come down by chance.
I held out my hand to him and said as calmly as I could; ‘It is a long time since we have seen you, General.’
He replied that he had been in the north on business. Then Sir Gervaise appeared and I hung back while he was conducted to the parlour. Sir Gervaise ordered that Carlotta be told that we had a visitor.
I went to my room. I did not want to see Carlotta paying him that very special attention she reserved for men, and I had come to the conclusion that I had allowed myself to imagine what I wanted to believe and that Richard Tolworthy had no more interest in me than he would in any young girl whom he had rescued from a pair of ruffians, and who had shown some concern because she had heard him challenge someone to a duel.
I combed my hair, patting it into shape, hoping that he would ask to see me, but he didn’t.
A few days later he called again. This time I was alone and he asked if I would see him and I received him in the parlour.
‘I have to confess a little duplicity,’ he told me. ‘I learned that Sir Gervaise and his lady would not be at home today. So I called in the hope that you would be.’
‘You … wanted to see me then?’
I felt as though the sun had suddenly burst forth and was shining more brilliantly than it did in the summer and that the entire universe was singing with joy.
‘I wanted to talk to you rather specially.’
‘Yes?’ I asked breathlessly.
‘Pray sit down,’ he said. I sat on the window-seat and folded my hands in my lap. I dared not look at him in case I should betray my feelings.
‘I think,’ he said, ‘that we have become good friends. Do you agree?’
‘Oh, I do. Indeed I do.’
‘You exaggerated what I did on my first meeting. It was no more than any man would have done.’
‘I shall never forget that you risked your life for me.’
‘Oh, you must look at life rationally. Villains like that are always cowards. They attack women and children. Moreover, I was armed and I assure you I ran no risk. But what I was saying was that we have become friends. I have hesitated over this and perhaps I should have been wise to hesitate still further. You are very young, Angelet. I may use your christian name?’
‘Please do. I like you to.’
‘It is a charming name and may I say it suits you.’