“Would you say we were a pair of fools?”
“I can only say that what I did I had to do. And I believe the same applies to you.”
He took my hand and held it. “What a serious meeting this has been. I meant it to be so happy, so full of fun … meeting after all these years. We should be enjoying our reunion.” He filled my glass with the burgundy. He lifted his. “Come, laugh and be merry.”
I was surprised at the manner in which he could throw off his melancholy. Now he was very much like the laughing gypsy I had known long ago.
He told me about his estates in Cornwall and so vividly did he talk that I could picture the old grey stone mansion with the battlemented towers, with its long gallery—“haunted, you know. No house in Cornwall is worthy of the term ancient unless it has its ghost. We’re not far from the moors and we have the sea as well. I hope you will visit it one day.”
I let myself believe I would. He had that effect on me. He transported me into a world of make-believe. He made me feel young and carefree. I could temporarily forget that I had duties and responsibilities. I saw myself going through that house in Cornwall, marvelling in the long gallery, the solarium, the crown post, the priest’s hole, the great hall and the garden full of azaleas and rhododendrons with hydrangeas, pink, blue and white, growing in profusion.
He was a vivid talker and brought it all to life for me; moreover he made me long to be there to see it for myself.
I was brought back to reality by the realization that time was passing. My family would wonder where I was and I must go back.
Reluctantly we returned to the boat and I was a little sad as we rowed back. I had been indulging in dreams and as I came out of them I realized as never before, what a rash act it had been to marry Edward. When I looked at this man, pulling at the oars, smiling at me in a significant manner, all the melancholy I had seen in his face when he had talked of his trials disappeared. I was stirred as I never had been before. I wanted to go on being with him. I wanted to see that joy in living which he could display and which seemed particularly exciting when I heard of all he had endured during his years of servitude which would have been so hard to bear for a man of his nature.
In those moments on the river I said to myself: This must be falling in love. I had thought it would never happen to me, and now it had … too late.
We alighted from the boat and began the walk to the house. I realized it must be nearly three o’clock. I felt faintly irritated, frustrated. I had forgotten how anxious they would be about me, so completely absorbed had I been.
We came out into Piccadilly. I must have increased my pace a little, and he said: “You are anxious to get on.”
“I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“Let’s take this street. It’s a short cut.”
That was how I saw her. Recognition was instantaneous—after all she had made a great impression on me. It was the girl who had pretended to be blind.
How different she looked now! There was no doubt that she could see. She was fashionably dressed in rather a gaudy manner; her cheeks were startlingly red, the rest of her face very white; those eyes which had seemed so pathetically sightless were rimmed with kohl. She had crossed the road and gone into a building.
I said: “What place is that?”
Jake said: “It’s Frinton’s Club.”
“Frinton’s! I’ve heard of that. That was where Jonathan lost so much money. What sort of place is it?”
“It has rather a shady reputation, I believe.”
It was very strange. What was that girl doing in Frinton’s Club? Something should be done. I did not know what.
“Do you know who owns it?”
“It is said to be a Madame Delarge.”
“I’ve heard of her.”
“There are a chain of clubs like Frinton’s. I’ve heard all sorts of things go on in them. Not gambling only. They are the haunts of prostitutes and idle young men—and perhaps older ones—who have more money than sense.”
“I see.”
“There are a number of them in London. Madame Delarge is the accepted owner, but I have heard that she is just a name, and there is some big organization behind her. Frinton’s is just one of a chain of such clubs. Madame Delarge is the one behind whom the real owners cower. At least so I’ve heard.”
“Why should there be this need for anonymity?”
“It is rather an unsavoury business. It wouldn’t surprise me if the real owners are posing as pillars of society.”
I felt shaken. After my idyllic experience I had seen that young woman who for some time had haunted my dreams. To say the least, it was disconcerting.
When I told my parents I had seen the girl who had pretended to be blind and that she had gone into Frinton’s Club, my father said: “She’s obviously a loose woman. Many of them frequent those clubs. There’s nothing much we could do even if we approached the girl. It’s too long ago.”
“There is a woman who is said to own the place. A Madame Delarge.”
“Oh yes. She’s just a figurehead, I believe.”
“It was a great shock to see that girl. I should have known her anywhere although she was so dressed up and quite different. And her face …”
“Let’s hope she sticks to her trade,” said my father, “and doesn’t attempt any more to kidnap young innocent girls.”
“I think something ought to be done,” said my mother.
My father said to me: “Don’t you attempt to follow her if you see her again. Don’t do anything like that.”
“As if I should!”
My mother was more concerned about my going out with Jake Cadorson.
“I wondered where you were,” she said, mildly reproving.
“I came to tell you I was going but you were out. He wants to come down to see Tamarisk. I am not sure how Tamarisk will feel having a father suddenly presented to her.”
“She’s an unpredictable girl,” said my mother.
“I think,” I mused, “it will be best to break it to her gently. Then when she knows, I’ll ask him to come down.”
“We’ll have him at Eversleigh.”
“Why should you? Tamarisk is at Grasslands.”
My mother looked faintly embarrassed.
“I wondered …” she said.
She betrayed to me that she, who was very perceptive where I was concerned, had guessed that my feelings for this man were perhaps a little more intense than was desirable.
I said calmly: “I will ask him in due course.”
He called next day and my father asked him to dine with us. He accepted with alacrity. It was quite clear that my parents liked him. He had a special gratitude towards my father and quite openly they discussed the trial and the state of the country after this most devastating and prolonged war which had been going on.
“Twenty years one might say,” said my father. “The people are in a merry mood at the moment… singing the praises of the great Duke, but wait till the taxes are enforced. It will be a different story then.”
“You expect trouble?” asked Jonathan.
“I know there’ll be murmuring.” He turned to Jake. “I don’t know how things are in Cornwall.”
“Very much the same as in the rest of the country, I fear,” replied Jake. “And of course the people there are considerably poorer to start with.”
“We’ve had an example of what the mob can do,” said my mother. “Jessica’s husband has been a victim of that.”
“Yes, so I heard.”
“We are better off on our estates,” put in my father. “We manage to weather these storms. It’s townsfolk who suffer most.”
“In addition to the poverty engendered by the war, the people have another complaint,” said Jake. “They are demanding representation. They want universal suffrage.”