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I leaned over the bed and kissed his forehead. I did not want to be caught by Jessie with the papers in my hand. I tapped them significantly. “I will deal with these,” I said, “and I’ll see you later … alone.”

He smiled at me and I went out.

The first thing to do was to hide the papers. I pondered for a while and finally decided to put them in the pocket of a rather voluminous skirt which was hanging in the cupboard. It would only be for a short while as I must get them to the lawyer at the earliest possible moment.

I sat by the window and saw Jessie return to the house, looking rather flushed and pleased, so the session must have been a good one. I imagined her telling her lover about my arrival and I wondered what they said about it. I was getting to get a clear picture. Jessie was obviously feathering her nest and, as Jethro said, Lordy was supplying the feathers. Jessie, devoted to the pleasures of the flesh, was determined to enjoy them—relying on Uncle Carl and Amos to supply her needs. I believed she was very shrewd and would have considered the possible impermanence of her position: no doubt she was endeavoring to prolong this very desirable way of life.

While I was ruminating there was a tap on my door and Jessie herself came in. She was elaborately dressed and must have spent the hour since her return on what I imagined must be a somewhat intricate operation.

She was smiling broadly and I did not think she could possibly have an inkling of what had happened during her absence.

“Supper is about fifteen minutes past six,” she said. “I see to Lordy at six and that gives me time to make sure he is all right before partaking myself. I shall be taking his up now … so can you be at the table shortly? There’s suckling pig.” Her mouth watered and her eyes glistened at the mention of the food. “It’s best served piping hot.”

I said I would be on time; and she gave me a little push.

“That’s it,” she said. “I can see you’re one of the punctual ones. I never could abide them as kept good food getting cold just because they couldn’t be at the table on time. Had a good afternoon? Manage to entertain yourself, did you?”

There was a shrewd glitter in her eyes and she was waiting as though for me to tell her. I felt a cold shiver run through me. This woman, I felt sure, was not quite what she seemed. I had to work hard to prevent my eyes straying to the cupboard.

I said coolly: “I had a very pleasant afternoon, thank you. Did you?”

“I did. There’s nothing like a spell of bed in the afternoons.”

I nodded and turned away.

“All right then,” she said. “See you at supper.”

And she was gone.

How could Uncle Carl endure such a woman? I wondered. But then people had strange tastes, and there was no accounting for them.

I went to the winter parlor precisely at a quarter past six. Jessie was there and with her Evalina.

“He’s enjoying the suckling pig,” said Jessie. “It’s nice to see him take an interest in his food.”

We sat down and fortunately Jessie was so intent on doing justice to the business of eating that she did not talk as much as usual.

Evalina said: “Do you like fairs, Mistress Ransome?”

“Fairs?” I said. “Oh yes, I do.”

“We have one here twice a year. It’s coming next week.”

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

“The noise!” said Jessie. “And the mess they make! Farmer Brady will go on for weeks about the rubbish they leave behind. They have the common land close to some of Brady’s fields. He don’t like it much. People come from miles around.”

“I like it,” said Evalina. “There are fortune-tellers. Do you believe in fortune-tellers, Mistress Ransome?”

“I believe them when they tell me something good,” I said, “but am inclined to disbelieve if it is bad.”

“That’s not very clever. If they tell you something bad you should be warned.”

“But what’s the good if it is written in the stars?” I said lightly.

Evalina regarded me with round eyes. “So you don’t believe in being warned.”

“I did not say that. But if a fortune-teller is telling the future and that is destined for you, how can I change it?”

Jessie paused in her chewing and said: “The servants will be there … the whole houseful of them. All through the day … you see.”

“Will you be here for it, Mistress Ransome?” asked Evalina.

“When is it?”

“The end of next week. They come on Thursday and stay there till Saturday night.”

They were both watching me intently, I fancied.

“So much will depend,” I said. “I can’t stay very long. My husband would have been with me, you know, if he had not broken his leg. I shall have to get back. You understand.”

“I understand perfectly, dearie,” said Jessie. “You want to see your old uncle … and my goodness what a pleasure seeing you has given him … but at the same time you’re worried about that husband of yours. I understand.”

“I shall see. … I may have to go back.”

Jessie was smiling at me intently.

“Whatever you say suits me, and I’m only too sorry that I didn’t know you was coming and we gave you such a poor welcome. Whatever must you have thought of me!”

“It is my turn to understand,” I said.

“Then we’re all happy,” said Jessie. “I’ll have another slice of that pig … what about you?”

When the meal was over I rose and said I would take a stroll in the garden before going to bed.

“I reckon you’re still tired from the journey,” said Jessie soothingly.

I might be, but my mind was too full of strange impressions for me to be sleepy. I went up and sat for a while at my window while various images chased themselves round and round in my head. I felt as though I had been catapulted out of a sane world into one which was vaguely bizarre.

I thought of Sabrina’s saying that she thought she detected a cry for help in Uncle Carl’s letter. It was a cry for help in a way, though he was in no physical danger. On the other hand I had a feeling that Jessie could be capable of a great deal of deception and roguery to get her way, but unless Uncle Carl made a will in her favor—though even she must know that in view of the estates involved it would be unthinkable for him to do such a thing—it was better for her to keep him alive, for only as long as he lived could she enjoy this sybaritic existence. But that he should be obliged to go about the matter of making his will in this secretive manner was monstrous. He was afraid of a housekeeper—well, a little more than a housekeeper! It was amazing in what situations people’s sexual desires could involve them.

I would try to complete this matter of the will as soon as I could. Then I would go home and consult with Jean-Louis. Perhaps I could get him to come to Eversleigh for a visit and see the state of affairs for himself. After all, if I were going to inherit our lives would be disrupted and it might mean that as Eversleigh would be of greater importance than Clavering we should have to come and live here. I believed that was what Uncle Carl would really want if he made me the heiress of the Eversleigh estates.

It would be a great upheaval in our lives and one I am sure which Jean-Louis would not want.

In the meantime I felt that my uncle should be rescued from this harpy. But how did one set about rescuing someone who so clearly did not want to be rescued?

Let well alone, perhaps, was the best thing. Go back home and hope that Uncle Carl lived on for many years. I put on a cloak and went out of the house. The gardens were still beautiful though somewhat neglected. I looked back at the house and wondered if I were being watched from the windows. The thought made me shiver. Yes, I should be glad when I had completed the business and was on my way home. It was possible that when I moved out of the picture I would be able to see it more clearly. After all, what was it but an old man who had been something of a rake in his youth, and was still trying to be one, with a voluptuous housekeeper who was trying to get what she could while the state of affairs lasted and to satisfy her physical needs, which I imagined must be overwhelming, took a lover at the same time.