It was to be taken to this inn-I think it was one frequented by smugglers, and there it would be collected. I did not go myself. I was scarcely in a fit state and they recognized that. I told them who would bring it. It was Dick Duvane. He was my batman during my spell in the Army. When I came out, so did he, and we have been together ever since. He’s a valet . confidant . and frequently fellow-traveller. He’s not just a servant. He’s one
of the best friends I ever had. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
I trust him absolutely. “
“I’m glad you got away, Lucas.”
“I suppose I am myself … only …”
“I know. I do understand.”
We fell into silence. We were still in the garden when Felicity came out to find us.
That visit to Oxford was of considerable help to me. Lucas’s logical outlook on life bitter though it was brought me down to Earth.
What could I do? How could I prove Simon’s innocence? I was not even on the spot. I knew nothing of the family at Perrivale Court except what I had gathered from Simon and had read in the newspapers at the time of the murder. If only I could find some means of meeting them, of going to Perrivale Court! What hope was there? I thought of Lucas.
What if I asked his help? He was resourceful. The manner in which he had extricated himself from a dangerous situation showed that. He was not very far from Perrivale Court; he was not on terms of friendship or even casual acquaintance with the family, although he had once, long ago, visited the place with his father. I wished I could have discussed Simon with him, perhaps enlisted his help. Dare I? I wondered. But I could not be sure what his reaction would be.
I felt as helpless as ever but that visit did cheer me a little. He left Oxford the day before I did. When he said goodbye he looked forlorn and rather vulnerable and I felt a great desire to comfort him. I thought at one stage that he was going to make a suggestion for a further meeting, but he did not.
Felicity and I went with him to the station. He seemed reluctant to leave us and stood at the carriage window watching us on the platform as the train steamed away, taking him back to the West Country.
“It is so sad,” said Felicity.
“There is a changed man.” The next day I went home.
Aunt Maud wanted to know whom I had met in Oxford.
I told her there had not been a great deal of entertaining because Felicity had thought I needed a restful time. When I was at dinner with her and my father it slipped out that Lucas Lorimer had been staying in Oxford while I was there.
My father was immediately interested.
“Oh yes … the young man who was with us on the Atlantic Star.” He turned to Aunt Maud.
“It was most extraordinary. He discovered a stone in his garden in Cornwall.
Ancient Egyptian. How it got there is a mystery. But it was quite an exciting discovery. Yes, he was with us on the Atlantic Star;
“He was one of the survivors,” I told Aunt Maud.
I followed her line of thought. I had met a man in Oxford, then? Who was he? Was he of good family? Was he in a position to support a wife?
I said shortly: “He is crippled. He was hurt in the wreck.”
Aunt Maud looked disappointed, then resigned. I could imagine her mustering her ideas to bring eligible young men to the dinner table; and how I missed Felicity and the peace of Oxford.
Aunt Maud relentlessly pursued her policy. There followed several dinner parties to which men whom she considered suitable were asked.
She harried my father into bringing some of his associates home to dine; to my amusement and her chagrin, most of them were middleaged, so fanatically devoted to their work that they had no plans for putting any impediment to it in the form of a wife, or else cosily married with erudite and energetic wives and a family of prodigies.
The weeks passed into months. I was restive and I did not see any escape.
Felicity paid us a flying visit. It was difficult to leave the children for long. The nanny was good and she enjoyed the responsibility of being in sole charge of the nursery, but Felicity hated to leave them. I was sure she came only because she was worried about me.
I was able to tell her how I missed the old days in our pleasantly disorganized household. I knew I should be grateful to the indefatigable Aunt Maud, but there was more to life than polished furniture and meals on time. Aunt Maud was such an overpowering person that she subdued us all, and her influence was particularly felt in the kitchen where I had spent so many happy hours.
Felicity said: “Rosetta, have you something on your mind?” I hesitated and she went on: “Wouldn’t you like to talk about it? You know I’d understand. But I won’t press you. I know that, terrifying as an ordeal can be while you live it, at times what can happen afterwards can be equally important. It’s happened, Rosetta. It’s over. Don’t think I don’t understand what it was like in that harem. It must have been quite terrible. But you escaped. It was a wonderful piece of luck. It’s left its mark, though. I worry about you … and about Lucas, too. I always liked him. He used to be so amusing. He’s travelled so much and talked so easily about it. He was always so light-hearted in a blase sort of way. And now I think he’s shutting himself in with his bitterness. It is all wrong. It’s agonizing for him, of course. He was always so active. I’m going to be rather bold.
James is going to Truro again to lecture at that college. I shall go with him and I shall suggest that, as we are in Cornwall, we call on him. It would be nice if you came with us. What do you think? “
I could not hide my enthusiasm for the plan. To go there, to be not far from Perrivale Court. well, however far it was, I should be comparatively near. What I should do when I got there I was not sure. There was one thought uppermost in my mind: I must not betray Simon.
“I can see the idea appeals to you,” said Felicity.
When the matter was broached Aunt Maud seemed mildly pleased. Her own attempts to bring me into contact with marriageable young men had not been very successful. She was always hoping that something would be more productive.
The Graftons moved in the right circles. James Grafton was ‘something at Oxford’. Aunt Maud was not well informed about such details. People were either suitable or unsuitable and the Graftons -in spite of the fact that Felicity had been a governess-were eminently suitable.
Aunt Maud was in favour of the idea. So was my father when he was told by her that it would be good for my future.
So it was arranged that I should accompany James and Felicity to Truro.
At the instigation of Felicity, James had written to Lucas to tell him that we should be in Cornwall and he thought it might be an opportunity for us to call and see them while we were in the Duchy.
There was a prompt reply that we must certainly do so. We must stay a few days at least. Trecorn Manor was too far from Truro for us to come for a day.
The change in me was obvious.
Mrs. Harlow said: “You always did get on with that Felicity. I remember the day she came and we was expecting some stuck-up madam. From the moment she stepped out of that cab I took to her … and so did you, I’d say.”
“Yes,” I said.
“She is a wonderful friend. How lucky we were that she came to us.”
“I’d say you’d got the right bull by the horns there.”
Oh yes, indeed, I owed a great deal to Felicity.
Trecorn Manor was a pleasant Queen Anne mansion built in an age noted for its elegance. It was set in well-kept grounds. I was thinking how interesting it would be to see Lucas against the background of his own home.
We were warmly welcomed by him.
“It is so good of you to come,” he said; and I felt he meant it.