She was looking at me anxiously and the colour flooded my face. She thinks I might be pregnant! I told myself. Then suddenly the thought of what this could mean if I were swept over me.
“It’s all right,” I said firmly. “I’m perfectly normal.”
She patted my arm lightly. “Well, Christmas comes but once a year, and sometimes I’m heartily glad of that.”
Each day I was realizing more and more what a web I was being caught up in. My jealousy of Millicent, my sudden fear that I might have a child and should have to ask myself whose, brought home to me ever more strongly the seriousness of my predicament.
It must stop. I must never, never give way to my emotions again. I would get over this obsession. I would be a good wife to David and I would attempt to wipe this sordid incident right out of my mind.
The next day the Farringdons came. They were very charming people—Gwendoline, John and their son, Harry. Harry was in his mid-twenties, very good-looking. He helped his father run their estate, which I learned was the same size as Eversleigh.
In the early afternoon of Christmas Eve a party of the younger people went for a ride. There was David, Jonathan, Harry Farringdon, Millicent Pettigrew and myself. I rode between David and Harry while Jonathan with Millicent went ahead. I found myself watching them intently. You must stop this, I admonished myself. It only makes you wretched. You are risking everything that is worthwhile for the sake of a few sensational moments. I glanced at David. He looked contented and was talking of the estate with Harry—comparing Eversleigh with Farringdon.
We had the mist back again—it was damp and warm for the time of the year and clearly we should not have snow for Christmas. A wintry sun was trying to break through the clouds.
“‘If the sun shines through your apple trees on Christmas Day,’” quoted David. “‘When autumn comes they will a load of fruit display.’”
“Let’s hope it shines through the apple trees then,” I said.
“I like those old rhymes,” commented Harry. “And they are very often right.”
“They should be since they are culled from the wisdom of men who have watched weather for ages,” replied David.
“I suppose you had them in France,” Harry asked me.
“I suppose so, but I don’t remember hearing any.”
Jonathan had turned. “Why are you lagging behind?” he asked. His eyes met mine, dancing with mischief, and all my resolutions began to crumble away.
“We were talking about the weather and old rhymes,” I told him.
“‘If New Year’s night-wind blows south,’” said Harry, “‘It betokens warmth and growth.’”
“I can’t wait for New Year’s night,” said Jonathan.
“‘If west, much milk and fish in sea,’” went on Harry, unperturbed. “‘If north, cold and storms will be. If north-east, flee it, man and brute.’”
“Very pretty,” said Jonathan.
“And very probably true,” added David.
“Truth and beauty—what a combination!” said Jonathan. “But why all this preoccupation with the weather?”
“If you worked on the land you would be preoccupied with it,” David retorted.
“I bow to your superior wisdom. At least we are not having one of those romantic snowy Christmases. I can never understand why people set such store by them.”
“It’s rather exciting not knowing whether you are going to arrive or not,” said Millicent.
“Travelling is always such fun,” added Jonathan. “It is getting there that does not always live up to expectations.”
“Well, I am determined that getting here is going to live up to my expectations,” declared Millicent.
“Then rest assured that it will be a happy Christmas, for my Lady Millicent must always be obeyed,” said Jonathan.
“It amuses you to laugh at me,” said Millicent.
“There is little I like better than being amused.”
“Come on,” cried Millicent. “Which way?”
“Straight ahead,” I said. “We’ll pass my aunt Sophie’s new house on the way.”
“Oh, I should love to see it.”
“We haven’t the key,” I said quickly.
“Well, from outside. Perhaps while we are staying at Eversleigh we could go and see it.”
“I am sure you could,” said Jonathan.
Millicent rode on and we all followed.
There it was. The house which had become so important to me, a kind of symbol of sin.
“It looks exciting, but a little grim,” commented Millicent.
“I think it a very interesting house,” Jonathan told her. He looked at me, smiling. “You like it, don’t you, Claudine?”
“I admit it is a most unusual house.”
“It looks as if it is in need of repairs,” put in Harry, casting a businesslike look over it.
“You are right up to a point,” said David. “But it is amazing what a solid old place it is. A little bit of rot here and there… just a sign or two of decay. It’s amazing considering how long it has been empty.”
“Strange that it should stand empty for so long,” said Harry.
“Oh, it has a bit of a reputation.”
“Ghosts?” cried Millicent. “Noises in the night? How very thrilling!”
I thought: And voices in a room on the first floor, a room which would be in my memory for ever.
“Well, there it is,” said David. “We’ll get the key before you leave, Millicent, and you shall have a real tour.”
I was glad when we rode off.
As we were coming past Grasslands, Evie and her sister were riding in. We pulled up.
“Hello, Evie,” I said. “This is Miss Evie Mather and her sister Dorothy. Evie and Dolly, you haven’t met the Honourable Millicent Pettigrew and Mr. Harry Farringdon.”
Both Harry and Millicent were, I think, a little taken aback by the sight of the sisters. I suppose it was the contrast they made, Dolly’s deformity calling attention to Evie’s good looks.
“Were you going for a ride?” I asked. “It’s just the afternoon for it.”
“We were just returning, as a matter of fact,” said Evie.
“Well, it will be dark soon.”
“Would you like to come in and have a glass of something?”
“It’s getting late,” I replied. “We want to be back before dark.”
“And there are so many of us,” added David.
Harry was looking at Evie. He said: “I’d like to… We need not stay long.”
“I have to get back,” said Millicent.
“All right,” put in Jonathan. “You three stay and I’ll take Millie back.”
Again that sick jealousy! I was annoyed. I hated the thought of leaving Millicent with Jonathan and going into Grasslands, but there seemed no way out.
“Au revoir!” called Jonathan gaily.
Millicent was smiling, well pleased. Glad to be rid of us, I was sure; and the rest of us dismounted and went into the house.
Evalina Trent came into the hall to greet us.
“Well, this is a nice surprise.”
I introduced Harry and Mrs. Trent almost fawned upon him.
“Oh yes… what a nice surprise,” she repeated. “Come along in. We’ll all wish each other a merry Christmas.”
So we sat in the little intimate parlour which led from the hall and we drank the wine while we chatted amiably about nothing. Harry had seated himself next to Evie and was talking animatedly to her. Mrs. Trent’s eyes scarcely left them. She was very impressed by Harry.
“I know of Farringdon Hall,” she said. “A fine old place. I said to myself when I rode by in the carriage… that was when my son Richard was alive… I said, ‘Richard, that’s a fine place, that is, and one of the best estates roundabouts.’”
Harry said he thought so too but perhaps he was prejudiced.