‘As usual I can’t say how long and the troubles are by no means over. They increase with every day.’
He slipped his arm through hers and then looked round for me. I went to him and he took my arm, and thus linked we went into the hall.
I warned myself that I must not betray this wild excitement which took possession of me. I must overcome it. I must remember that this was my sister’s husband.
We supped as usual in the intimate parlour. He seemed almost tender to Angelet.
‘Are you sure you are feeling well?’ he asked her. ‘You look a little tired.’
‘She has not been sleeping very well,’ I told him.
He was concerned and Angelet murmured that it was nothing.
As the meal progressed he talked a great deal about what was going on. A new Parliament had met, and although many of its members had sat with that which had assembled in the previous April and was now known as the Short Parliament, there were some new members. ‘They are determined,’ said Richard, ‘to end all grievances and pull them up by the roots. This bodes ill for men like Wentworth, the Earl of Strafford, and Archbishop Laud.’
As usual he talked to me of these matters, and afterwards he said he had work to do and retired to the library.
I went to my room. Angelet was already in the Blue Room. I was excited and she was in fear. I believe that she nourished this aversion to an abnormal proportion. She admired her husband beyond all men; she was proud to be his wife; she would have been completely happy in her marriage if these nightly duties were not part of the contract.
Of course it would seem unnatural if she did not spend the night with him, for he had been away so long and would expect it.
‘What’s the matter, Angelet?’ I asked, knowing full well, and she answered: ‘I don’t know. I feel the toothache coming on.’ She looked at me appealingly, reminding me of the days of her childhood when she had been afraid of going to some part of the Priory in the dark and would make up all sorts of excuses not to go.
She does not want him, I thought. She is afraid of him. That which I long for, she fears. I had been the resourceful one in our childhood, and I felt that she was asking me now—as she often had in the past—to find a way out for her.
My heart started to beat fast as I said: ‘You must have some of the Cherry cure.’
‘It makes me so sleepy.’
‘That is what you need.’
‘Richard has only just come home.’
‘He will understand.’
Her expression lightened and she looked at me adoringly. I was once more the sister on whom she could rely.
‘I’ll give you a dose,’ I said quickly. ‘I’ll tuck you in and then I’ll go down to the library to tell him. You’ll be all right tomorrow. He realizes that.’
‘Oh, Bersaba, do you think …’
My hands trembled a little as I poured out the dose.
I helped her to bed and sat with her until she slept, which was soon. She looked so happy and relaxed in sleep that my conscience was eased.
I will go to tell him, I promised myself, I will confess what I have done and tomorrow I will make plans to go home. I will explain to him that she is afraid and that she needs time to grow accustomed to what is now distasteful to her. I knew that he would understand if I could tell him.
I went to the library. He was not there.
I would find him in the bedchamber. Perhaps he had already gone to Angelet’s room to look for her, perhaps he would try to rouse her from her drugged sleep. I had promised her I would explain. So must I, but more than she realized; and then tomorrow I would make plans to leave for Cornwall, and hope that in time they would find happiness together.
I went to the bedchamber and knocked on the door. It was swiftly opened. He took my hand and drew me in.
‘Angelet,’ he said, and there was a note in his voice which I had never heard before when he said her name.
The temptation swept over me. I could impersonate her perfectly. Perhaps once more … and then I would explain. My resolutions had crumbled, but I did protest as he embraced me, realizing even as I did so that that would make me even more like Angelet.’
I cried: ‘I have to speak to you, Richard.’
‘Later,’ he murmured. ‘There will be plenty of time to talk. I have been thinking of you, longing for you …’
There was that in his voice, in the touch of his hands, which moved me deeply. More than anything I wanted to please him, to comfort him, to make him happy. If Angelet had suffered from her frigidity, so must he. My love for him overwhelmed me. Why not … just for tonight. Then I would go away. And so it was.
He gave no sign that he knew I was not my sister.
I was awakened by strange noises. I started up, horror dawning on me. I was in the four-poster bed and Richard was beside me.
I could not describe the noise, but I knew that someone was in the room. I heard a crash as though a stool were being thrown, and there was wild demonical laughter, followed by snarling noises such as a wild animal might make.
Richard had thrown back the curtains and was out of bed.
I followed.
He had lighted a candle and I cried out in fear, for something horrible was in the room. In those first seconds I had not thought it human; it was like something conjured up in a nightmare. But it was human. It was a child, with wild tousled hair and arms so long that they almost reached the ground. The body was bent forward and the creature shuffled. Its lips were loose, its eyes wild—mad, murderous eyes.
‘Cherry!’ called Richard, but Cherry was already at the door. Behind him was Mrs Cherry.
Richard had caught the creature and was holding it while its long arms lashed out in protest and it started to wail like an animal.
Mrs Cherry murmured: ‘Mercy on us. I’ll get John.’
The creature had broken free and had run to a stool. He picked it up but Richard was there before it could crash through the mirror.
The struggle went on, but it was all that both Richard and Cherry could do to hold those thrashing arms.
A man came in. I knew he was Strawberry John because Angelet had mentioned him once and he was immediately recognizable by the scar on his face.
‘Now come, my boy,’ said John. ‘Now come, my friend. John’s here.’
The arms stopped thrashing and John seized them suddenly from behind, pinioning the writhing body.
‘Now it doesn’t hurt if you’re still. You know that. Only if you struggle. Now you come with John. Now … now easy does it. That’s better.’
The writhing had ceased and the man with the scar gently but firmly led the creature away.
Mrs Cherry stood trembling in the doorway. ‘I can’t think how, sir. The bolt had been drawn. Cherry always draws it …’
‘Never mind now, Mrs Cherry,’ said Richard.
I had remained hidden in the shadows, but now the violence was over I was aware of the predicament in which I found myself. I was discovered, exposed. I kept telling myself that this was a nightmare from which I would awaken at any moment, but I knew very well it was real.
As the sounds of scuffling died away Richard shut the door and leaned against it.
I shook out my hair to hide the scars on my brow and involuntarily I covered the one on my cheek with my hand.
‘That … creature is my son,’ he said. ‘You will have to know now.’
I did not answer. I was afraid to speak because even now I was not sure whether he thought I was Angelet.
I felt there was no need for him to explain. I understood so much. This son was an idiot, a monster; he was shut in the castle with strong man Strawberry John to look after him. The Cherrys knew the secret. He was kept in the castle and the door in the kitchen was the way into that sinister place. I had unbolted the door and it had remained so, which gave this boy-monster, whatever he was, the opportunity to come into the house.