My father said: “Harriet has always got amusing young men staying with her and they are invariably actors.” He spoke coldly. He did not like Harriet and she did not like him. He was one of the few men who had not been fascinated by her. “When are you young fellows returning to duty?” he went on.
“Awaiting orders,” answered Leigh. “It can’t be long now.”
“You’ll have to tell us what you’ve been doing while we’ve been away,” said my mother.
There was an awkward silence and my father laughed.
“It sounds, Bella,” he said, “as though they have been up to some tricks.”
We all laughed, rather falsely, I think. I heard myself saying: “We rode quite a bit. We even had a picnic once …”
“Good weather for it,” commented my father.
“It was a rather special sort of picnic,” cried Carl.
Four pairs of eyes were fixed on him warningly. He lowered his head. “Not really a special one,” he muttered.
“Just an ordinary sort of picnic.”
“Very ordinary,” said my mother, “in November!”
I thought again how fortunate we had been to have got Jocelyn to Harriet’s before they returned.
Servants in a house such as ours are like spies. They know what we are doing at any moment. They are conversant with our daily habits and if we should step out of line they are immediately aware of it. I was passing Sally Nullens’s room when I overheard her talking to Emily Philpots, and as I realized what they were talking about I shamelessly stopped to listen.
“Of all the impudence! Who does she think she is? Mark my words, didn’t I say as soon as she entered these doors that I knew her sort? Adventuress. That’s what she is.” That was Emily Philpots.
Then Sally Nullens: “It can’t be true she’s got her claws in my Lord Edwin. Not my Lord Edwin! A dear little chap he was—different from that Leigh. Now if it had been him …”
“I know what she’s after. She fancies herself as Lady Eversleigh. If she ever became that I’d go in sorrow to my grave. I would, I’m telling you, Sally, I really would.”
“It don’t seem right if the reason she was brought here was …”
“Well, what would you say? It’s not like him to take such notice of Priscilla’s education. She was never of much account to him.”
“That’s true enough. I remember his disappointment the day she was born. It was a boy he wanted, and when Carl came along … proud as a dog with a couple of tails, he was. Now he brings her in. Why was he so interested in her? Do you really think …”
“I do, Sally, I do indeed.”
“What will he say when his lady friend wants to marry Lord Edwin?”
“Will he care? He was never one for Edwin, was he? He’ll laugh, he will. Passing on his leftovers.”
My impulse was to go in and box their ears. They were two evil-minded disgruntled old women. How dared they say those things about Christabel and about my father? It was such nonsense. I would not believe for one moment that Christabel had been my father’s mistress, which was what those two old women were suggesting.
I curbed my anger and went quietly away. I did not want to hear any more.
After we retired that evening I was very uneasy thinking about what I had overheard and wondering if there was just an element of truth in it. No! I could not believe that of Christabel … nor of my father. If I had discovered that he had had a mistress, I suppose I should not have been so very surprised, but I was sure he had too much respect for my mother and was too fond of her to bring such a woman into the house. Sally and Emily were two malicious old women whose malice had been fostered by a sense of grievance. I understood them in a way. They had passed their usefulness and hated the world for that reason.
I was very apprehensive thinking about Jocelyn and wondering what the outcome of everything would be. I wondered how long he could reasonably stay with Harriet. His sojourn there must be continued as only a temporary answer to our problem.
From the back of the drawer I took out the chain on which hung the ring. I pulled the ring off the chain and slipped it onto my finger. I sat there looking at it. It was the sort of ring which would have been noticed immediately. Leigh was right about that. Not only was the rather elaborate crest etched in gold on the lapis lazuli but inside the ring was the family name. One had to look close to read it but then it was clear enough.
I put my lips to it, thinking of those moments in the cave and the deep tenderness of his voice when he had said he loved me. I had remembered it when I was in the hall and my father had scarcely noticed me. Like Christabel, like Sally Nullens and Emily Philpots and like everyone else I suppose I wanted to be loved.
There was a knock on my door. My mother called softly: “Priscilla.”
I hastily took off the ring and picking up the chain pushed both of them into a drawer.
She came in and I could see that there was something on her mind.
“Not undressed yet.” She smiled at me tenderly. “I love you in that dress. The lace is so soft and feminine. It suits your brown eyes. It is a little too short though … and a little too tight. We must get Chastity to let out a seam and lengthen it. It’s worth it and she could do that quite well. I want Emily to get on with embroidering my petticoat. You’re growing, that’s what it is.” She kissed me. “Priscilla, I want to talk to you.”
My heart started beating uncomfortably. When one is guarding an important secret I suppose there must be these constant alarms.
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, don’t look scared. Sit down. Are you all right? You seem a little …”
I looked at her fearfully. “A little what?”
“A little on edge. Are you sure everything is all right?”
“Yes. I’m all right.”
“That’s good. This is rather a delicate matter. I’m not sure how far it has gone.”
“What … matter?” I asked faintly.
“Edwin and Christabel Connalt.”
“Oh,” I said blankly.
“So there is something. It must be stopped.”
“Why?” I asked.
“It’s most unsuitable.”
“If they love each other …”
“My dear Priscilla, you must not be so childish.”
“Is it childish to believe in love?”
“Of course not. But this governess …”
“Dear Mother, she is a governess because she has to earn her own living. She is well educated. You would not be able to tell her from any people who come here. If Edwin loves her …”
My mother’s face hardened. It was not like her to be harsh or particularly socially conscious. I thought I understood. She was suspicious of Christabel because of the manner in which my father had brought her into the house. If it were in fact the truth that Christabel and my father had been lovers, it was perfectly understandable that my mother would not wish her to marry her son. I did not believe this for one moment—having come to know Christabel—but I had been confirmed in my opinion that it was what some of the servants believed, and if my mother was suspicious, too, that would explain her attitude.
She said: “It will have to be stopped. She will have to go away.”
“Where will she go? You have no idea what the home she came from was like. She has told me about it.” I tried to make my mother see something of what Christabel had told me, and my purpose was to reveal to her how impossible it would be for her to have carried on an affair with my father or anyone from such a place.