Jethro touched his forelock to Jean-Louis and Lottie regarded him curiously.
“You’ll find everything in order inside, Mistress Zipporah,” said Jethro. “The servants has done well.”
“The same ones?” I asked.
“Most on ’em scuttled off. That must have been friends of Jessie Stirling. I took the liberty of sending Mrs. Jethro over to take a hand and she got some girls from the village to come until you see what you want.”
“Thank you. Jethro.”
We went into the house. I stood in the hall with its rough stone walls on which hung the armory of past Eversleighs. Most of it would have seen action, for we had been a military family in the past.
“What’s that?” cried Lottie and she ran to the fireplace.
I joined her. “It’s the family tree. It was painted over the fireplace more than a hundred years ago … and it is constantly added to.”
“I shall be on it,” cried Lottie ecstatically. “Shan’t I?” she added anxiously.
“Of course.”
“And,” said Lottie, “my husband. I wonder who he’ll be? There’s something you put on your pillow, or under it … on Christmas Eve … or is it Hallowe’en? And when you wake up the first thing you see is your future husband’s face. Oh, dear mama, dear papa, we must find out what it is and when. I can’t wait to see my husband.”
“Why, Lottie,” I said reproachfully, “here you are in your new home and all you can think of is husbands.”
“It was the family tree that put me in mind of it,” said Lottie. “What’s down those steps?”
“I tell you what,” I said. “We’ll let Mrs. Jethro take us to our rooms … and then later on you can explore the house.”
“I want to explore now!”
“We’ll explore together,” I said, “and your father is a little tired.”
She was all contrition. “Dear papa, is it your old leg again? I’m sorry. You ought to have had another cushion in the carriage.”
“I’m all right, my dear,” he said, “but as your mama says, let us go to our rooms first and then we’ll explore the house together later.”
“It is exciting,” said Lottie. “And mama, it is all yours.” She spread out her arms as though to embrace the house. “It must be wonderful to have a house like this … all to yourself.”
“It’s ours,” I said firmly. “Come on. Here’s Mrs. Jethro.”
The largest bedroom in the house had been prepared for us. Here Eversleigh wives and husbands had slept through the ages. It was the room in which the actor calling himself Lord Eversleigh had lived.
Jean-Louis sat down on the brocade-covered bed. I went to him and put my arm about him. I was wondering afresh whether we should have come back to the scene of my infidelity. It was into a room in this house that Gerard had climbed to be with me. The memories which I had sought to suppress for so many years had come flooding back more vividly.
I put my arm tighter round Jean-Louis and held him close to me.
“I do love you so much, Jean-Louis,” I said. “I am going to take such care of you.”
He turned to look at me. I could have believed in that moment that he understood exactly why I felt this emotion.
It was pleasant to renew my acquaintance with the Forsters. Isabel came over the day we arrived at Eversleigh. She was delighted that we were going to be neighbors and she wanted to know if there was anything she could do.
I told her that we were all rather bewildered at the moment. It had been such an upheaval. She must meet Jean-Louis and my daughter.
This she was delighted to do. Jean-Louis had already seen a little of the estate and he was of the opinion that we should need a manager. Derek said he would do all he could to help. The few farms in his possession were easily manageable and until we had settled in he might be of use to us.
The visit of the Forsters seemed to cheer Jean-Louis. I think before they came he was seeing the management of Eversleigh as a task too formidable for his strength. The journey had, of course, exhausted him. I knew it; but I never liked to refer to his weakness, which usually depressed him a little.
Lottie could not be found. She was in the paddock, they thought, exercising her pony—a favorite pastime of hers. She loved horses and in particular her own pony, which would soon have to be replaced by a small horse, I supposed.
Naturally the Forsters talked of the activities which had been going on at Eversleigh and which had shocked the neighborhood. It would, I knew, be talked of for years to come.
“We always guessed that something extraordinary was going on,” said Isabel. “That housekeeper …”
“Well.” I said, “that was not such an extraordinary situation. She was my uncle’s mistress in the first place and that was how her ambitions started.”
“Yes, but it was that manager,” said Derek. “He was the real organizer of the plot. He was a good manager, too. I’ve often said how lucky Lord Eversleigh was to have got hold of such a man.”
“Well, I suppose it began in a simple way. Jessie was to get what she could … and then she had hopes of the house. … That must have been Amos Carew’s idea. It was too ambitious and it was really what made Uncle Carl decide he must make his will … and then after the will was signed they decided to get what they could. Unfortunately for them my uncle died too soon for their schemes to be as rewarding as they had hoped.”
“If it wasn’t for the fact that his living was so advantageous to them they might be suspected of murder.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t that.” I said. “Although it might have been. It was what was intended for me.”
“That young relation of yours—he’s a bright young man.”
“Yes … yes …”
“I wish we’d met him. He sounds so interesting.”
“You probably will one day,” said Jean-Louis.
“Oh …” I began almost protestingly.
“You can’t believe Dickon won’t be paying us a visit, can you?” said Jean-Louis. “He talked of nothing but Eversleigh for weeks after he came home from here.”
“He has Clavering now to claim his attention.”
“Ah yes.” Jean-Louis agreed wistfully. I said to Isabel and Derek: “We’re boring you with our family affairs.”
“Not at all. It’s all so interesting and it is so wonderful that you have come back.”
“You still enjoy living at Enderby?”
“Oh, I think we’ve routed the ghosts.”
“It must be pleasant not to have them around.”
“I think I miss them a little,” said Derek. “We’ve cut down so much of the foliage which darkened the place. My brother said it was positively unhealthy to have so many things growing close to the house and shutting out the sun.”
“Your brother?” I said. “Is that … the doctor?”
“Yes, Charles. He’s settling in very well now. He’s happy, I think, living here. It’s very convenient for his hospital.”
“Where is that, then?”
“It’s near the coast, about a mile or so from here. He’s able to get to it every other day. His practice doesn’t occupy him all that much. The hospital is his great delight.”
“It must mean a lot of hard work for him.”
“He thrives on it.”
“What is it … for the elderly?” asked Jean-Louis.
“Quite the contrary … for the very young. Mothers … and babies. It’s really a maternity hospital.”
“Such matters are his speciality,” said Isabel. “He’s a very good man.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that, Isabel,” said Derek.
“Well, I say it when he can’t hear it,” she said. She turned to us. “He has done a great deal of good work. He has saved many a life … mothers and children.”
“It seems very noble,” I said.