As soon as I set eyes on him I knew they were right. He was different from other men. There had never been anyone quite like him. He stood by the fireplace in which a few logs burned, his back to it, his hands in the pockets of buckskin breeches. He wore highly polished riding boots, I noticed, and wondered why I should think of his clothes at such a time when it was his personality which dominated everything in the room. His entire being expressed Power. He was very tall—six feet four at least—his fair hair was very faintly touched with white at the temples and he had a golden Vandyke beard. I could not see his lips because they were hidden by his moustache but I guessed they were thin and could be cruel. His nose was aquiline and arrogant; but of course the most startling feature was those eyes. They were like those of a jungle animal—predatory, alert, proud, cruel, implying that he would have little mercy on any who offended him; yet there was laughter in them as though they mocked those who could not match up to him. They were a dazzling blue, and they were on me now though he did not greet me. He said over my head: “So this is the girl.”
“Yes, Father,” said Adelaide.
“She has a look of her father, eh, Adelaide?”
“Yes, there is a resemblance.”
“Nora. Is that her name?”
I disliked being discussed as though I weren’t there. My heart had started to thump uncomfortably because in spite of my determination not to be overawed, I was. I said in a voice which sounded both imperious and pert: “J can answer all questions concerning myself.” He raised his bushy golden eyebrows and the fierce blue fire was turned on me. I went on: “I am indeed the girl and my name is Nora.”
For a second his expression changed. I thought he might be angry with what he considered my impertinence, but I was not sure.
“Well,” he said, ‘it’s been doubly confirmed so we can be sure of it.
Do you think she’ll like it here, Adelaide? “
I replied before Adelaide could speak: “It’s too early as yet to say.”
“She’d better like it because she has to stay.” He half closed his eyes and said: “Send Jagger in and put dinner forward ten minutes. She’ll be hungry. We don’t want her to think we are going to starve her. “
This was dismissal. I turned, glad to escape. As we went out of the room we passed a man who was waiting to go into the library.
“This is Miss Nora Tamasin, Mr. Jagger,” said Adelaide.
“Nora, Mr. Jagger, who runs the property.”
Mr. Jagger was shortish and plump. I thought him most undistinguished; but perhaps that was because I had just left what I had sardonically christened ‘the presence’. He had a very florid complexion and rather bold dark eyes; and I did not like the way they regarded me. But I scarcely noticed this; I was still burning with resentment against the Lynx. I realized that I had no idea what his library looked like; from the moment the door had opened I had seen only him. Adelaide took me back to my room.
“I think you surprised him,” she said.
“And that didn’t please him,” I added.
“I’m not sure. In any case, don’t be late for dinner. You’ll have to come as you are. There’s not time to change. He said it was to be put forward ten minutes. I’ll come and collect you so that you will be on time. He hates people to be late.”
As soon as she had left me I went to my looking-glass. My cheeks were scarlet and my eyes brilliant. He had had that effect on me. He had talked over me as though I did not exist and he had done it deliberately in order to disconcert me. Why had my father so admired him? Why had he given me into the care of a man like this? I was seventeen and it was therefore four years before I would be of age.
And then what should I do? Become a pupil teacher? Oh, poor Miss Graeme with birds’ nest hair and dreams of what might have been! But I would rather that than become a chattel of his. The term amused me and I began to laugh. I was actually excited—yes, I was! I was looking forward to seeing him again because I wanted to show him that although he might dominate the rest of his household, this should not be the case with me.
Almost immediately it seemed Adelaide was back to take me to dinner.
To my astonishment the table was laid in the big hall on the refectory table which I had noticed when we had entered. It was laid for about twelve people. Adelaide was obviously relieved because her father had not yet arrived.
“We are a very big party,” I said.
“We are never sure how many there will be,” she told me.
“Sometimes the managers are here. The family, now that you are here, are five in number. Tonight Mr. Jagger is here, and I believe William Gardner too.
They often are. My father likes to discuss business affairs with them over the dinner table. “
Stirling came hurrying in—also relieved that his father had not yet put in an appearance. They were all apparently afraid of the man.
“So you have met,” he said. He wanted to hear me say how wonderful I thought his father was.
“You’ve spoken to him now.”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Though he hasn’t exactly spoken to me-rather at me. I replied on behalf of myself—if you can call that speaking to a person.”
“How did it go, Adelaide? Did he like her?”
“It was as Nora said; and it is early days yet.”
I could see that he thought the interview had not gone well and was disappointed and a little anxious. I liked his concern for me while I deplored his subservience to that man.
He came in then with his managers and I was angry with myself because I shared that awe which the others clearly felt. On one side of him was Jacob Jagger and on the other the man whom I discovered to be William Gardner. He looked round the room and nodded. Then he said:
“Where is Jessica? Not here yet. Well, we’ll start without her.”
Stirling sat on his right hand. I thought there was some ritual significance in this. I, to my surprise, was placed on his left.
Adelaide sat next to Stirling and there was an empty place beside me which I presumed was for the unpunctual Jessica. As the two men took their places farther down the table, servants came in and served the soup. It was hot and savoury but I was too excited to enjoy it.
The Lynx—I could not think of him by any other name-led the conversation. I had the impression that we were expected to speak only when spoken to. He talked to Stirling about the trip and asked what he thought of England. He listened with interest to his son’s replies.
Stirling was the only one present who did not appear to be afraid of him, but he implied a complete respect and behaved, I thought, as though he were in the presence of a deity.
“And what son of sea. nip, cu; he asked.
“Rough at times. We had some rocky moments along the African coast.
Some of the passengers did not care for it. “
“And what about Nora? How did she like it?”
He was still looking at Stirling, but I put in quickly: “Tell your father, Stirling, that the rocking of the ship did not disturb me unduly.”
I fancied there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“So she was a good sailor, eh?”
“I would say she was..”
“Well, perhaps she’ll settle in to our rough ways, then. Do you think she will?”
“Oh, I think so,” said Stirling, smiling at me.
“Can she ride? She’ll need to here.”
“I have ridden at home,” I said, “So I daresay I can here.”
He turned his gaze on me then.
“It’s rough riding here,” he said, ‘in more ways than one. You’ll notice a difference. ” He had a way of lifting one eyebrow which I fancied was meant to intimidate, but I felt a small triumph because I had made him stop this slighting way of talking over me. He had at last addressed a remark to me.