I looked round the room. Her room! Here she would come after the drawing lesson to dream about him. It was in this room that they had found him with jewels in his pockets. I believed I could sense the great drama which had taken place there.
Minta was ushering us out and leading the way along the corridor.
“There’s a staircase at the end of this landing,” she was saying. I was still thinking of that room. It happened forty years ago, I reminded myself. And I could feel the frustration and agony of Lynx when he was caught, trapped; and he knew be could not hope for justice. And because of this Stirling and I were here now. Poor innocent Minta! She did not know that the apparently courteous guests whom she was graciously showing round were two harpies planning to take Whiteladies from her.
I wanted to see that room again. I wanted to be in it alone. I wanted to sense the atmosphere of that tragic night when Lynx’s pride was humbled. Minta and Stirling had turned a corner. I hastily slipped back into the room. It was different now. Without the lamp I could just make out the humps of furniture under the dust sheets because light from a half moon shone through the windows.
Oh Lynx, I thought, I understand your misery, but it’s all over. It must be forgotten. Well have the Mercer’s House, Stirling and I—and Minta and Franklyn will be our friends. Your grandchildren shall play on the lawns of Whiteladies. That’s how your dream will come true.
No! I could almost hear his scorn. He wanted revenge. I could hear his voice in my mind thundering: No!
Then my heart began to beat fast because there was something in the room. I sensed a presence. Someone was watching me.
“Lynx!” I breathed.
“Oh, Lynx, come back.”
A shape materialized in the doorway and moved towards me.
“You’re Mrs. Herrick.” A human voice. Not that of Lynx.
“You startled me,” I said.
“I’m sorry, madam, I’m sure. I wasn’t expecting anyone in Miss Arabella’s room.”
“Miss Cardew is showing us the house.” Understandably she looked round for Miss Cardew. They went on without me and I wandered back in here.”
She peered at me as though I were of rather special interest to her.
“You’re Mrs. Herrick” ‘ she said. There was someone here long ago . of that name. “
“You must have been here a long time.”
“I was two years older than Miss Arabella. I was under-nurse when I was fourteen. Because there wasn’t much difference in our ages we were together … a lot.”
“You’re Lizzie,” I said.
She nodded.
“I was there … all the way through. And now he’s dead and there another Lady Cardew. “
It was eerie in this room with nothing to light it but the moon, and the odd shapes of furniture seemed as though at any moment they might take on life. I knew instinctively that this woman had known and loved him. It was impossible for anyone to be unaffected by him. She reminded me of Jessica.
“You come from Australia and that was where he went … this man who was here once. I know you were his wife but he had another before you.
That’s his son. There’s a likeness, though he’s not the man his father was. There’s some thing in the air. I can feel it. It’s as though he’s come back. “
“He’s dead,” I said sharply, ‘so he can’t come back. “
“He could if he wanted to. He could do anything. Don’t make any mistake about that. Something’s going to happen. It always does where he is … and he’s here. I’m sure of it. I knew him well.”
I shivered. She was so like Jessica and I felt that I was caught up in some intricate pattern which kept repeating itself.
“The others will be wondering what has happened to me,” I said.
She ignored that.
“Lady Cardew died suddenly,” she said.
“We weren’t expecting it. It was very strange. Sometimes I think ..”
Fortunately I heard Minta’s voice calling me.
“I’m here,” I called.
She stood in the doorway, Stirling holding the lamp behind her.
“Oh, Lizzie!” she said rather reproachfully.
“I’ve been talking to Mrs. Herrick,” said Lizzie almost defiantly.
“Well, now we’ve found you we’d better continue with the tour,” said Minta. She added gently: “Lizzie, I should get back to your room if I were you. It’s rather chilly to hang about here.”
“Yes, Miss Minta,” said Lizzie meekly.
Minta turned and we all followed her. On the next landing Lizzie disappeared and Minta took us to show us the carved banisters which led up to the minstrels’ gallery.
“I hope Lizzie didn’t scare you,” said Minta.
“She’s been rather odd since my mother died.”
“Like Jessica,” said Stirling. And to Minta: “She’s a cousin of my mother’s and she went a bit queer when my mother died. They were always together.”
“Very like Jessica,” I agreed.
“They are two devoted people.”
“I must speak to her,” went on Minta, “She mustn’t go wandering round these closed-up rooms. This minstrels’ gallery was put in in the sixteenth century when this wing was built. You didn’t notice it from the hall because the curtains were drawn.”
We examined it and I pretended to show interest but my encounter with Lizzie had started up so many memories that my thoughts were far away.
I kept imagining Lynx in this house attracting the young lady whom he was teaching—and the maid at the same time.
When we rejoined the others the doctor was about to take his leave. He had one or two patients he wanted to look in on and he said he would take Maud home at the same time. I suggested that we ought to go too and Franklyn immediately offered to drive us home. So we said goodbye and soon were driving the short distance to the Mercer’s House.
“What a place!” Stirling was saying.
“I have never been is such a house.”
“I should think not,” I retorted.
“It’s unique.”
There are other houses which have been built on the site of old monasteries . and with some of the original stones,” said Franklyn.
“Fountains Abbey in Yorkshire springs to mind.”
“It’s a pity,” said Stirling, ‘that they can’t afford the necessary repairs. “
“A great pity,” agreed Franklyn.
“Perhaps they’d be wise to sell it to someone who could put it to rights.”
“Oh never!” cried Franklyn.
“It’s an institution. It’s a tradition.”
“That sort of house belongs to posterity,” said Stirling rather pompously.
“If people can’t afford to run it they should let it go.”
“If it were mine, I never would,” I said.
“And you can be sure,” added Franklyn, ‘that the Cardews never will either. “
The lights of Mercer’s were visible and we drove the rest of the way in silence.
We were too excited for bed. We went into the drawing-room and Stirling threw himself on to the sofa. I sat down in the armchair looking at him.
“The first move,” he said.
“Well, if you think you’ve made a move, I don’t.”
“We’ve been there. We’ve inspected the house. My goodness, it needs some money spent on it, and they haven’t two brass farthings to rub together.”
“Exaggeration! And who wants to rub brass farthings together, which I’m sure they could easily do if they had a mind to.”
“You’re becoming infected by Mr. Franklyn Wakefield. That’s just the sort of thing he would have said.”