I could never know those wild joys and fears again, and perhaps I did not want to. Lynx could never come back; and I wondered whether I could ever have known real peace with him. But here in this elegant country house, built by the rich London mercer nearly two hundred years ago, I could perhaps find a new way of life. He had come to live here in peace; I sensed that. The Mercer’s House would be my refuge as it had been that of the mercer. Here I would be in charge of my own destiny; I could mould my life to my own inclination. Sometimes I wondered whether I had always known that my life with Lynx would be brief. He had been so much older than I. True, I had believed him to be immortal. Often now I could not believe that he was really dead.
One thing was certain: I was fortunate to have known him and to have been loved by him; but I had to convince myself it was over; and since I must rebuild my life, the Mercer’s House was the best place in which to do it. Sometimes I felt Jessica was right and he was beside me, guiding me, urging me in that direction where he wanted me to go. I believed that he wanted me to marry Stirling and that had he not desired me himself would have arranged our marriage before he died. So I dreamed of marrying Stirling. We would abandon the crazy idea of acquiring Whiteladies. Perhaps we would buy the Mercer’s House and our children would be born there. Minta should marry Franklyn Wakefield and our children and theirs should play in the lawns of Whiteladies.
So after all Lynx’s grandchild should play on those smooth and velvety lawns. But would Lynx ever be satisfied with a compromise?
So I dreamed.
We had not been a week in the Mercer’s House when Minta came to call.
She had changed little. She was very pretty and much as I remembered her. There was a certain innocence about her which I found appealing.
“Franklyn Wakefield told me you were here,” she said.
“How very interesting. Of course I remember the time you came. Your scarf blew over the wall.”
As it was mid-morning I asked if she would care for coffee or perhaps a glass of wine. She said she would like the coffee so I rang the bell.
Ellen appeared, neat and trim, and Minta smiled at her and said: “Good morning, Ellen.” Of course the girl had worked at Whiteladies before going to Wakefield Park.
When she had left us, Minta said: “I hope you are well looked after. Mr. Wakefield was very anxious what you should be. Ellen and Mabel are such good girls. “
Mrs. Glee had other opinions but Minta would believe the best of everybody.
“Our housekeeper keeps them in good order.”
“Oh yes, you have Mrs. Glee.”
“I see that our actions have been well observed.”
She laughed.
“This is country life, you know. Everyone is always interested in newcomers and wonders whether they are going to enter into local affairs.”
“Is that expected of us?”
“Shall we say it might be hoped. You won’t be pestered if you show you wish to remain aloof, but somehow I don’t think you will.”
“There is my stepson,” I said.
“Oh yes.” She smiled.
“It seems so strange. You are so young to have a grown-up stepson. But I have a stepmother who is not much older than I. When we met previously I thought you were brother and sister until. “
“It is rather a complicated relationship. I married Stirling’s father and now he’s dead and I am a widow …”
My voice trembled. I was seeing him carried home on that stretcher. I was thinking of that immense vitality; that excitement which he had brought into my life and which was gone for ever.
“I’m sorry,” said Minta. I realized she was very sensitive to the feelings of others. I liked her, and thought what an admirable wife she would make for Franklyn Wakefield. I liked him, too. There was something worthy about them both. Nice people, I thought. Yes, that was the word. Nice! Unexciting but good. There would be few surprises.
They were different from people like Lynx, Stirling and myself. They were lacking in our egoism, perhaps. They seemed colourless. But perhaps that was unfair when applied to such a charming girl as Minta.
I said quickly: “It’s over. One has to learn to forget.” She nodded and I went on: “I remember so clearly the first day I saw Whiteladies.
It impressed us both so much. The lawn and the kind way in which you received us. And then of course the way my hand was bandaged. “
“That was Lucie. She is my stepmother now. You will meet her. My mother died …” A look of sorrow touched her face. She was easy to read and one of her charms was the changing expressions of her face.
“I gathered she was an invalid,” I said.
“Yes, but …” I waited but she did not finish the sentence.
“Lucie has been wonderful. She has been so good to Papa. She helps with his work and manages the house perfectly.”
“I am so glad.”
“And we have an addition to the family. My little half-sister Druscilla. She’s a darling. She is nearly a year old.”
“It’s not really so long ago that we met for the first time,” I commented, ‘and so much has happened since then. “
I was thinking: I became Lynx’s wife and his widow. I must have betrayed my thoughts for she changed the subject quickly; “You will enjoy it here, I’m sure. It’s rather a pleasant community.”
Ellen brought in the coffee with Mrs. Glee close behind. Mrs. Glee gave Minta a triumphant: “Good morning. Miss Cardewl’ to which Minta replied how glad she was to see Mrs. Glee again and then assured me that Mrs. Glee would take admirable care of the household. Mrs. Glee’s head shook with pleasure and righteousness as she supervised Ellen serving coffee.
When she had gone Minta said: “She really is a wonderful housekeeper.
I’m glad you have her. We should never have let her go if we could have afforded to keep her. “
So it was true that they were not well off. Perhaps Stirling would succeed after all. But it was a very different matter selling a house from ridding themselves of an expensive servant.
“I daresay Maud Mathers will be calling on you soon. She’s the rector’s daughter. His wife is dead but Maud is indefatigable in parish affairs. She’s a good, sensible girl and I’m sure you’ll like her. But, please, I want your first visit to be to Whiteladies. I shall ask Mr. Wakefield to join us for dinner. Sir Everard and Lady Wakefield rarely leave the Park. They are not fit for it. Now will you promise me?”
I readily gave the promise.
I was sure, I told her, that Stirling would be delighted to accept the invitation; and at that moment Stirling came in.
I said: “Stirling, Miss Cardew has called. Do you remember?”
“But of course!” exclaimed Stirling; and I saw the excitement leap into his eyes. She noticed it, too, and she flushed prettily.
“This is a great pleasure,” he added with feeling.
I knew he was thinning he was making progress.
“Have some coffee,” I said and went over to the table to pour it for him.
“We are invited to Whiteladies,” I told him.
“I am delighted,” he replied.
She was smiling. She had become more animated since Stirling had arrived. Naturally, I thought, he seems exciting because she is accustomed to Franklyn Wakefield.
It was rather gratifying to discover what a stir we had made in the neighbourhood. We did seem rather incongruous, I supposed—a young man close to thirty with a stepmother just entering her twenties, living together in the Mercer’s House. It was the most respectable of relationships; besides we had the servants as chaperons plus the presence of Mrs. Glee. Stirling’s rooms were on the first floor, mine on the second; his at the front, mine at the back. Mrs. Glee, in black bombazine, dispelled any gossip for it was inconceivable that she would be found in any house where the slightest impropriety was practised.