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She talked about the events which led up to her miscarriage and how she had heard it said that the castle was haunted, and one night seeing a light there she had gone up to the Castle Room to look. She had seen … something … she was not quite sure what. A face, she had thought, and oddly enough she believed she had seen the face before. The servants were convinced that she had had a nightmare, but she didn’t really think that was so. In any case she had had a fright and they said that had brought on her miscarriage.

I remembered the strange look in Richard Tolworthy’s face when he had talked of the castle, and I longed to know more about it, because I felt that in learning that I would know more about him.

Those first days were full of vivid impressions. I rode out with my sister and she showed me the Longridge Farmhouse.

Richard had ridden over, she told me, to thank them for what they had done for her, although relations were strained between them. She told me how Richard had once challenged Luke Longridge to a duel.

‘A duel,’ I cried, because this seemed to shed a new light on his character. I could not imagine his being romantically rash. ‘What? Was it over a woman?’

Angelet laughed. ‘Certainly not. Luke Longridge was disloyal to the King.’

‘I see your husband is an ardent Royalist,’ I commented.

She was thoughtful. ‘He is a soldier and his duty is to be loyal to the King.’

Yes, I thought. He was a man who would always act conventionally. He might not admire the King but he served him and therefore would defend him to the death if need be.

He was the sort of man who would adhere strictly to the conventions.

So I rode and walked and talked with Angelet. Sometimes when the evenings were drawing in I would see a certain apprehension in her eyes. Sometimes I would go quietly to the door of her room and peep inside. If she were not there I would know that she was in what I called the connubial bed with him.

Once he spent a night away and I was struck with her relief. Yet when she talked of him her eyes glowed with such admiration that anyone would have said that she was deeply in love with him.

I tried to sound her about that side of her relationship with him.

‘Soon,’ I said, ‘we shall be hearing you are with child again.’

I saw the shiver pass through her.

‘What’s the matter, Angelet? You want children, don’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘And he … your husband?’

‘Yes, naturally he wants children.’

‘Well then, since you both do …’

She turned away from me, but I caught her arm. ‘Are you happy, Angel?’

‘Of course.’

‘Marriage is everything you want … everything …’

I made her look at me, for she had never been able to lie to me. Now I could see that blankness in her eyes which showed me she was trying to hide something.

‘There are things about marriage,’ she said, ‘of which you would be ignorant.’

I felt laughter bubbling up inside me.

‘Such as?’ I asked.

‘I can’t explain. You will have to wait until you have a husband yourself.’

I knew then what I had suspected. These urgent passions which had overcome me were something of which she had no conception. Perhaps when we had been born nature had divided certain qualities and had robbed one to give the other the lion’s share.

From that moment the situation became clear to me. I knew that my sister had endured with stoicism those occasions which her contract had forced her to spend in the marriage bed. I wondered what effect her attitude had on him. He must be aware of it and it would give little comfort to him.

I looked forward to the evenings when he was with us. I played chess with him and now and then beat him. That surprised him a little but at the same time he was pleased.

He would show us how he had fought and won battles by bringing out his miniature soldiers and placing them on a mock battlefield.

I watched intently, determined to gain his attention. I would ask questions about the tactics and once expressed doubts as to the wisdom of employing them. Those well-marked eyebrows would shoot up as he talked to me, as though amazed at my temerity in questioning a professional soldier.

Once I took the infantry and placed it in another position. Instead of reproving me or trying to stop me, he said: ‘Then in that case I should have brought the cavalry over here.’

‘The infantry is behind this ridge of hills,’ I pointed out. ‘Your cavalry would not have been aware that they had changed position.’

‘They would have seen.’

‘No, they moved by night.’

‘My spies would have informed me.’

‘Ah, but my spies recognized your spies. You have used the same men too often. They misled you and you are under the impression that they are concealed by this ridge. They moved silently on to another.’

I saw the glint in his eyes as mine met his and held them.

‘What do you know of battle?’ he demanded.

‘Battle is strategy and tactics. A woman, you know, is rather skilled in these arts.’

He was amused and, I knew, excited; and we played out our mock battles.

Angelet sat in her chair watching us.

Afterwards she said to me, ‘You shouldn’t have talked like that to Richard. It was rather arrogant, wasn’t it? As though you know as much about fighting battles as he does.’

‘They are only battles with toy soldiers.’

‘They are real to him. He is reconstructing battles he has fought and won.’

‘Then it is well for him to have an opposing general to outwit him.’

‘You … Bersaba!’

‘Yes,’ I retorted, ‘why not?’

‘I don’t think he was very pleased.’

But of course he was, and we went on playing our games on the mock battlefields and the chessboard. I looked forward to those evenings when I would be so aware of him and try to make him aware of me. Then when I was alone at night I would think of him, and I knew that that terrible fascination which I had felt when we had first met had by no means diminished. In fact it grew every day.

Once Angelet said to me: ‘Richard was talking of you last night.’

‘Yes?’ I asked eagerly. ‘What did he say?’

‘He said that we must entertain. He would rather we did it in London, though. He said that would be more interesting.’

‘But you said he was talking of me.’

‘It was of you. He said we should find a husband for you.’

I felt angry with him and I said: ‘Does he want me out of the house?’

‘Oh no, Bersaba. You mustn’t think that. He likes to have you here because he knows I do. He said you are amusing and attractive and ought to be married. Just for now he wants us to stay here because of my health. He doesn’t think I’m well enough yet for anything but the quiet life.’

He had said I was amusing and attractive, but he wanted to find a husband for me.

I felt half pleased yet half angry and frustrated.

I was uneasy about this household of servants. Had I been mistress of Far Flamstead I should have wanted to know more of them. The chief ones, of course, were the Cherrys and the man Jesson. The latter was a silent-footed, self-effacing yet efficient man of whom one saw so little that one was inclined to forget he existed. He was a sort of grey eminence, I imagined, for the servants spoke of him with awe. His daughters were very much in evidence. Meg was Angelet’s personal maid and her sister Grace was a sort of part-time midwife, according to Angelet. Her services would not be in great demand in the house as most of the servants were men, but she would be useful if Angelet ever needed her. She had a great belief in Grace’s wisdom, for it seemed the woman had known she was pregnant before Angelet had been sure of it herself.