There was no doubt that the children loved Manorleigh. They quickly settled in which was a great relief. Leah was happier. The place suited her.
There was great excitement about the children’s ponies and each day one of the grooms took them riding in the paddock … a treat they had missed in London.
They were both doing well, Thomas, the groom, reported. I was glad. Lucie had changed. She had ceased to cling quite so much to me although I knew I was more important to her than anyone else. But she was more self-reliant now and able to stand up to Belinda. They were quite fond of each other in a way and although they quarrelled occasionally when Belinda exerted her superiority as the daughter of the great man, they were happy in each other’s company.
One thing that worried me a little was Belinda’s resentment against her father. I understood how he felt towards the child. He was not the sort of man who would understand children in any way, but he could not forget that it was Belinda’s coming which had resulted in her mother’s departure; and the more I saw of him the more I realized what a deep void her death had made in his life.
I should have been sorry for him. It was a shared emotion. But I could not forget how happy I had been before he came to change everything.
My mother and he had shared a suite of rooms on the second floor. I had not gone there very much in the past for they were his rooms as well as hers. They were two of the best rooms in the house really—a bedroom with a dressing room adjoining and a sitting room. They had been furnished in blue and white, I remembered.
I felt an urge to see them and on the day after my arrival I went along to them, but when I turned the handle of the door which led to the suite, I found it was locked.
I went straight to Mrs. Emery’s sitting room. I knew this was the time when she would be making herself a cup of tea and she would be sitting by the fire reading either Lorna Doone or East Lynne—that was unless she had changed an old habit. In the past she read only those two books and when she had finished one she would start on the other. It was enough for her, she said. There was nothing that could touch them for interest and she liked to know what was coming next.
I knocked at her door and was immediately greeted by an imperious “Come in.” Clearly she thought it was one of the servants about to intrude on the exploits of Jan Rodd or Lady Isabel.
Her expression changed when she saw me.
“Well, come in, Miss Rebecca. I was just waiting for the kettle to boil.”
She put Lorna Doone aside and looked at me through her spectacles.
“I am interrupting your rest time, Mrs. Emery,” I began.
“Oh no … think nothing of it. Is it something you wanted, Miss Rebecca?”
“Well, those rooms on the second floor … I tried the door and they were locked.”
“Oh yes, Miss Rebecca. Did you want to go in?”
“Yes … I did rather.”
She rose and, going to a drawer, took out a bunch of keys.
“I’ll take you along,” she said.
“Is there any reason why they’re locked?”
“Oh, yes, there’s a reason. I wouldn’t take it on myself, you know.”
I thought it was rather mysterious and by that time we had reached the door of the suite. She unlocked it and I stepped into the room.
It was a shock because it looked exactly the same as it had when my mother was alive. Her things were spread around … the enameled mirror on the dressing table with her initials embossed on the back … the brushes to match. I looked at the big double bed which she had shared with him, the big white wardrobe with the gilt handles. I went to it and opened it, knowing that I should find her clothes there … just as she had left them.
I turned to look at Mrs. Emery, who stood beside me, her eyes misty, nodding her head.
“It’s his orders,” she said. “No one’s to come here except me … to keep the place dusted like. I do the cleaning myself. He doesn’t want anyone else here. When he’s at Manorleigh he comes in here and sits for hours. I tell you I don’t like it, Miss Rebecca. There’s something not right about it.”
I sensed that she wanted to get out of the room.
“He wouldn’t like anyone in here,” she said. “He don’t like me in here … but someone’s got to clean the rooms and he’d rather me than any of the others.”
We went out and she locked the door. I returned with her to her sitting room where she carefully put the key into the drawer from which she had taken it. “I’ll make a cup of tea and I’d be honored if you’d take one with me, Miss Rebecca.”
I said I should be pleased to.
She waited for the kettle to boil, then took it from the hob and infused the tea.
“Let it stand a bit,” she said.
She sat down.
“It’s been like that ever since …” she began. “You see, she meant so much to him.”
“She did to me, too,” I reminded her.
“I know that. She was a lovely lady, your mother. She had so much love in her … and she was so missed … that it seems people can’t let her go. For a long time it was her he wanted. That was clear enough. It was a tragedy that when they got together it was for such a short time.”
“She was happily married to my father.”
Mrs. Emery nodded. “I reckon he’d do better to change that room. Send her clothes away. It don’t do no good to keep mourning. It’s not as though he can bring her back, although …”
“Although what, Mrs. Emery?”
“Well, in a house of this sort that’s been here for hundreds of years, people get fanciful about bygone days. There’s dark shadows in these big rooms and the boards creak something shocking at times. Empty-headed servant girls … well, they get thinking things, if you know what I mean.”
“Hauntings?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean. You see, there was this story about Lady Flamstead and that Miss Martha who lived here all them years ago … and this Lady Flamstead was said to do a bit of haunting.”
“I did hear the story. She died … having a baby.”
Mrs. Emery looked at me mournfully. “You see, it’s the same story. Your mother died having that Belinda.”
“My mother could not have been in the least like Lady Flamstead and Belinda is not like what I have heard of Miss Martha. She was devoted to her mother. So far it seems that Belinda is devoted only to herself.”
“It’s the way of children … but as I’m telling you, I’d like to see them rooms cleared out. Her clothes could be sent away. But he won’t have it. Maybe he gets some comfort from going in there. Who’s to say? It’s as though he can’t face his loss and he’s trying to pretend she’s not gone after all.”
“Oh, Mrs. Emery, it’s so sad.”
“It’s life, Miss Rebecca. It’s what the good Lord has ordained for us … and we needs must accept it.”
I nodded.
“But it’s not right … particularly now he’s wed again.”
“If he cared so much for her … why …?”
“Well, a man needs a woman, I reckon. His sort as much as any. And if you can’t have the one you want you’ll sometimes take second best. I’m sorry for the new Mrs. Lansdon. She’s a strange lady. I never did take to foreigners. All that funny talk and throwing their hands about. It’s not natural. But she thinks a lot of him. There’s no doubt of that. Well, he married her, didn’t he? What does he want to marry her for if he’s going to spend all his time in that room moping over what’s past and done with?”
“Does she … know?”
“Poor young lady, I reckon she does. When he’s here, as he is some of every week, she’ll come with him. Well, he’s in that room. She must know. I think she gets rather cut up about it.”