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Tenderness welled up in me for his kindness, his sweetness and all his goodness to me. And how had I repaid him?

I sank to my knees and buried my face against the bedclothes. Pictures kept coming and going in my mind. I saw him as a boy when he had let me go with him, when we played our games; and later when we had loved and married and everything had seemed right—until I met Gerard and realized that I had never known passion and erotic love and that I was of a nature to find them irresistible.

I don’t know how long I stayed there but when I arose from my knees, stiff and cold, I saw that it was nearly four o’clock.

I took his hand. It was very cold; and the peaceful smile was still on his lips.

I must call Charles. Though there was nothing he could do for Jean-Louis now.

Somehow I could not take any action. I felt that I wanted to be alone with Jean-Louis for the last time. I wished there was some way of letting him know how much I had appreciated him. I fervently hoped that he had never had an inkling of my infidelity. Then a terrible fear came to me that he might have known. Had I changed when I came back after that visit to Eversleigh and I did have a child … the child which he could not give me? Did he suspect that Charles and I were more than friends?

Dear Jean-Louis! One thing I did know was that if some instinct had told him the truth he would understand.

I kept my vigil by his bedside until six o’clock. Then I went to the bell rope and pulled it. The clanging rang through the house. They would guess that I needed help with Jean-Louis.

The first person to arrive was Miss Carter. She looked pale and different from usual with two plaits hanging over her shoulders tied at the ends with a piece of pink wool.

I said: “My husband died in the night. …”

She looked at Jean-Louis and turned pale. She closed her eyes and her lips moved as though she was praying.

She said: “I will go and get help.”

“I think,” I said, “that someone should go at once for the doctor.”

She ran away and I noticed then the laudanum bottle which Jean-Louis had left on the table. I took it and locked it in the dressing room cupboard.

It was a great relief to see Charles.

He came hurrying into the room, and taking one look at Jean-Louis, went swiftly to the bed. He stood looking down at him. Then he took his hand and touched his eyelids, drawing them down over his eyes.

“He’s been dead for some time,” he said.

“Yes,” I answered.

Charles bent over and put his face close to the dead one.

“Charles,” I said, “he did it. He took the bottle from the cupboard.”

“I thought …”

“Yes. I had the key in the secret drawer … but he knew it was there. It was the obvious place to put it … and he knew about the drawer in that desk. He came and got the key and the bottle. … He had talked to me about it just before. He had said it was the best way. I told him not to talk like that … but he must have had it in his mind to do it.”

“Where is the bottle?”

“I put it back in the cupboard.”

“Go and get it.”

I did so. He looked at it. “When did you get this? Two days ago? My God, he’s had enough to kill three people.”

“It was what he wanted. He couldn’t endure the pain anymore.”

“Zipporah,” he said quietly, “there mustn’t be talk about this. In view of everything … we can’t have it said that he died of an overdose of laudanum. … People might say …”

“That I gave it to him?”

“People will say anything.”

“Charles … you don’t think … ?”

“Of course not. I understand how it happened.”

“In a way I did kill him,” I said. “I knew he was going to do it … and I let him. That’s as bad as killing, isn’t it? I’m a murderess … as well as an adulteress.”

“Hush. Don’t say such things.” He looked round him. “For God’s sake be careful. It may be that … never mind. The thing is now that Jean-Louis is dead. Life was intolerable for him. He suffered a great deal of pain and naturally it weakened his heart. He died of heart failure. It was to be expected. I expected it.”

I wanted him to put his arms about me, to reassure me.

He looked at me sadly and said quietly: “We shall have to be very careful … for a while.”

Jean-Louis was buried in the Eversleigh mausoleum. There were many to mourn him for he had been very much liked.

“Poor gentleman,” said the tenants, “he suffered enough, God knows. It can only be a happy release.”

A happy release. That was the way to look at it.

I saw little of Charles. There was no excuse now for me to go to the house to collect the medicine. I did see him at Enderby and we had snatched conversations. There had been no lovemaking. It seemed that we had lost our taste for it.

We met in the woods a little distance from the houses.

Then he was as tender as ever. “We’ll be married,” he said. “It’s what I’ve always longed for. But we shall have to wait a year … and just at present it should not be known that we are meeting.”

I was concerned about Lottie. She mourned Jean-Louis deeply. It was strange to see her subdued. Hetty said that she hardly ever went to see the children now. I spoke to Isabel about her and she said: “She needs a new interest. Why don’t you let her give a hand in the hospital? I am sure they could do with auxiliary helpers. Charles says they are always short of staff. It’s nothing much they can do … but they can make beds and take the food round and things like that. If you’d like me to speak to Charles …”

I said I would and as a result both Lottie and Miss Carter went off every other day to work in the hospital.

I think it did Lottie good because she seemed to take interest in the work and was now talking a great deal about the mothers and their babies.

Letters came from Clavering. As soon as the weather allowed it they would come over and now that poor Jean-Louis was gone there was nothing to keep me from coming to them … often. I must pay a visit with Lottie. They longed to see me. But first they would come over to us.

There were always letters for Lottie which she would seize on with delight. She would take them to her room and emerge starry-eyed.

She was still young enough, I thought, to enjoy getting letters but she was growing up fast. She was mature for her age and it was touching to see her breaking out into womanhood.

I felt as though I were in limbo. The days seemed long. I filled them with trivial tasks and I kept telling myself: This must pass.

In a year’s time I was to marry Charles. He had said that we had to try to forget everything that had gone before … and that applied to both of us. We had to start a new life. Once we were together we must never look back.

It was the end of March, a stormy day with rain clouds being harried across the sky by a blustering southwest wind.

I was in the hall when Lottie came in with Madeleine Carter. They had ridden home from the hospital and were soaked to the skin.

“Now you must get those wet things off right away,” I said.

“All right,” said Lottie. “Don’t fuss, mama. All in good time.”

“Good time is now,” I said. “Come on.”

I went with her into her room and while she was peeling off her riding skirt I got out fresh things from the drawers of her cupboard.

She stood before me without her bodice and hanging round her neck was a gold chain. I knew the chain well. I had given it to her myself but attached to it was a ring.

I looked at it in amazement.

A ring! And such a ring! It was a square-cut sapphire surrounded by diamonds.

I took it in my hand and looked at it.

She flushed a little. Then she said: “I’m betrothed. That’s my betrothal ring.”