“I have never before heard them so described and I repeat that it was not like that with Dolly. She was not forced, you know.”
“I think we should go to supper,” I said.
He took my arm and pressed it.
“This has been a most exciting evening. Meeting you … like this. I meant to come to see you within a few days. This is the first opportunity I have had of getting to London. My brother was an old friend of Lord Inskip so naturally I, the heir, was invited to the ball.”
“Do they know that you served several years … as a convict?”
“In Australia, yes. It doesn’t count. People are sent to Australia for their politics. There is not the same smear as serving a term of imprisonment here. I shall not attempt to hide my past, I assure you. People must take me as they find me.”
I had turned away and we went into the supper room. My emotions were in a whirl. I had been so taken off my guard. It had taken me some time before I could believe that he had come back.
For some reason I did not want to see him again. He disturbed me. I realized that over the last nine years I had thought about him quite often. He had intruded into my thoughts and now that he was back he seemed more disturbing than ever.
I saw my parents seated at one of the tables and leaving him I hurriedly joined them.
My mother said: “What a distinguished looking man you came in with. Had you been in the garden?”
“Yes. It was rather hot in the ballroom.”
“Who is he?”
“Sir Jake Somebody.”
“Your father said he thought he knew him but couldn’t quite place him.”
I was not surprised.
The salmon was delicious; so were the meat patties; there was champagne in plenty. I ate and drank without tasting. I could not forget him.
I saw him across the supper room. He was seated at the Inskips’ table, talking vivaciously and there seemed to be a good deal of merriment around him.
He caught my eye across the room and smiled.
“He is very attractive,” said my mother, following my gaze. “He seems to have his eyes on you.”
“I daresay he has his eyes on quite a number of people.”
“Was he flirtatious?” asked my mother. “He looks as if he might be something of an adventurer.”
“Hardly that.”
“But interesting.”
“Oh yes, very interesting.”
She sighed and I knew she was once more wishing that I had not hurried into marriage.
After supper he asked me to dance. I rose, trying to assume an air of reluctance which I was far from feeling.
“It is good of you to do me the honour,” he said.
We joined the dancers.
“I must come down and see my daughter.”
“Perhaps it would be better if she were brought to London.”
“Would you bring her?”
“Perhaps my mother would. Or her governess. Leah is with us.”
“Leah!”
“When she returned from her sojourn with the gypsies she brought Leah with her. Leah has stayed with us ever since.”
“Leah …” he said softly and I felt a ridiculous stab of jealousy. That should have been warning enough in itself. I was a staid married woman; he was a one-time gypsy, a convict, a seducer of an innocent girl, and he had killed a man. Why should I feel jealous of Leah? Why should I feel so emotional to be near him? Why should this ball be the most exciting one I had ever attended?
Because of him? Oh yes, I should have recognized the warning signals.
“I would rather you brought her,” he said.
“I should have to consider it. I do not care to leave my husband too frequently.”
“And he is too ill to travel?”
“Yes.”
I thought of Jake at Grasslands, a guest in our house. That would be very disturbing. It was such an extraordinary situation. I imagined myself explaining to Tamarisk: “You have a father. He has just appeared. Here he is.” And Edward? What would Edward think of this man? He was very perceptive, and where I was concerned particularly so. He was always conscious of the sacrifice I had made in marrying him. Constantly he said that I should never have done it and as constantly I tried to show him a hundred reasons why I should. I loved Edward. I loved him more than I had when I married him. My admiration for him had grown. I was resigned to my life with him and never until this night had I realized how much I gave up to marry him.
Briefly I imagined myself free. Suppose I had not married Edward and tonight I had met Jake … we should have been together after all those years.
I felt angry with life, with myself, with this man who had come back almost casually into my life and talked so lightly of his relationship with poor Dolly. But I was forcing myself to see him in a certain light. I remembered Dolly as she had looked dancing round the bonfire, sitting at the kitchen table in Grasslands while he sang and played on his guitar. Dolly had adored him. Dolly had loved him. Dolly had wanted that moment of passion between them. It was the only time she had felt herself to be loved … well, desired. And that had resulted in Tamarisk. Dolly had wanted the child. Flashes of memory came back to me. I remembered how she had talked of her child. Dolly had regretted nothing … so why should he?
At least he had brought colour into her life, a joy which she had never before known, and if it had not meant so much to him as it had to her, he was not to blame.
“How long have you been married?” he asked.
“It is nearly two years.”
“So if I had come back …”
He stopped. I knew what he meant. If he had come back earlier he might have been able to prevent my marriage.
It was a confession. He must feel as drawn to me as I did to him. The thought made me blissfully happy … for a moment. Then I realized how absurd this was. I had never thought to see this man again. When I had known him I had been a child with a child’s emotions. Why should I feel this exhilaration one moment, this despair the next… just because he had come back into my life.
I said to him: “I was engaged to him. He was injured … badly … in his factory. I could not break my promise to marry him.” I hesitated. “Nor did I want to,” I added almost defiantly. “He is a good man … a very good man.”
“I understand. And may I come to Grasslands to see my daughter?”
“Yes, of course.”
He came close to me as we danced. “You have not changed very much,” he said. “I believe you would do again all those wonderful things you did then … for me.”
“I was sorry for you. You had done nothing criminal. You saved Leah.”
“Perhaps you will again take pity on me.”
I laughed as lightly as I could: “I doubt you are in need of that now, Sir Jake.”
“I may well be. And then you will be … just as you were all those years ago.”
The dance was over. My mother was sitting with Lady Inskip and he returned me to her, bowed and was introduced by Lady Inskip. My mother expressed her pleasure in meeting him and after a few words he departed.
“Charming man,” said Lady Inskip. “His brother was a good friend of mine. He has come into quite a large estate and I hope to be seeing a good deal of him if he can tear himself away from Cornwall. Yes, very large estates there and a nice little house in London just off Park Lane. John Cadorson did not use it a great deal.”
“I thought I had met him before,” said my mother.
“He is very attractive. I shall take him under my wing. I can see he will be a prey to all the rapacious mamas in London. He’s had a very romantic past, too, and he makes no secret of it. Why should he? It was to his credit really. He killed a man who was trying to assault a young girl. They tried to bring in murder. That was absurd. He was sent to Australia for seven years.”
“Oh,” said my mother blankly. “I am beginning to understand.”