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“Is that really so?”

“It is. It surprises you, doesn’t it? You see, if someone knows, we could find your theories thrust aside. If that someone told David, what then?”

“Who can it be?” he said.

“I don’t know. I suspect Mrs. Trent.”

“That wicked old woman!”

“She has not said anything to me, but she did try to blackmail me… well, that’s hardly the word… persuade me to help Evie along with Harry Farringdon. She said that her son Richard was Dickon’s son.”

“I know there was a suspicion of that. My father has helped her quite a bit. Grasslands was doing very badly and he put money into it. Richard Mather was a gambler and he drank too much. He almost ruined the family. My father has helped them out of various difficulties.”

“So you think she is right about Richard’s being your father’s son.”

“I daresay. There were always women with him, and what happened between them must have been when he was very young. It would give her a feeling that she had certain rights, I suppose… or at least Richard’s daughter had.”

“Yes, that was what she implied. She didn’t threaten or anything like that, but during the conversation there were one or two innuendos which might have suggested she knew something about me.”

“We’ll have no nonsense from her.”

“I did what I could for Evie… but that was because I was sorry for her and I did not know how my mother would feel about old scandals being raked over.”

He leaned towards me and took my hand.

“If she attempts to make any trouble, don’t try to handle it yourself. Let me know. I’ll soon settle her.”

I felt a relief sweeping over me. I had been more anxious than I cared to admit since Jeanne had shown me the speaking tube at Enderby.

“Thank you,” I said.

“After all,” he went on, smiling at me, “it’s our secret matter, isn’t it… yours and mine?”

“I shall never take your view of that sort of thing.”

“You might… in time. It’s the wise view.”

“I shall never forget. Every time I look at Amaryllis…”

“She’s mine, isn’t she?”

“I don’t know. I never shall.”

“I shall think of her always as mine and David will think of her as his.”

“David adores her,” I said. “I believe you hardly ever give her a thought.”

“You know so little about me, Claudine. It could take a lifetime to learn all the intricacies of my nature and to explore its hidden places.”

“I shall have to leave it to Millicent to make that voyage of discovery.”

“She will not make the attempt. Millicent accepts in the same way as you do. Our marriage will be an ideal one from her family’s point of view and from my family’s too. Important families are obsessed by what they think of as linking up. They’ve been doing it for centuries. It is the rock on which many of our noble houses have been founded. Little families become larger families, larger families become big ones. They grow in wealth and importance. Their watchword is Wealth and Power through Union.”

“It is all so cynical.”

“And all very wise.”

“And what of the people who are used to make these great edifices? Are they of no importance?”

“Of the utmost importance. They are the bricks and stones which one by one build up the tower of strength. It is their united cooperation which makes us what we are.”

“My mother brought nothing. It is true she would have been extremely wealthy…”

“And that would have delighted Dickon. However, he is so much in love with her that he took her penniless… as I should have taken you.”

“But your father had done his duty once in marrying your mother. I gather she contributed in great measure to the Eversleigh fortunes.”

“Ah yes, indeed. She brought in much of the London side. The banking… and all the interests that entailed. My father did his duty to the family admirably and therefore he earned the right to marry for love.”

“You are the most cynical man I ever met.”

“Because I look facts straight in the face, because I do not pander to sentimentality?”

“You don’t love Millicent.”

“I like Millicent. She amuses me. There will be battles between us, for Millicent is a very strong lady who likes to command. So is her mother, who has had a fair success with old Pettigrew. Look at Lady Pettigrew and there you see Millicent thirty years hence.”

“And the thought does not terrify you?”

“Indeed no. I admire Lady Pettigrew. I would not care for a mild simpering wife. Battle will be more stimulating than cloying reproaches.”

“Perhaps there will be reproaches.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“You do not present yourself in a very favourable light.”

“Yet I have a notion that you have some regard for me, Claudine. Have you?”

“I suppose you are what is called a rather fascinating man.”

“I am flattered.”

“I have seen you with people, with Millicent—the way the women servants look at you—and Matty today. It’s a sort of challenge to sex, I suppose.”

He laughed. “I like women. They are so pleasant to look at, and when they are clever, so interesting to talk to. I like battles… battles of words.”

“You like the sparring kind of flirtation at which you excel.”

“You do, too, Claudine.”

“I can’t think why you should imagine that.”

“Because you do it so well. People always like what they do well.”

He turned to look at me and I saw the blazing blue of his eyes and I thought: No, no. Not again. It must never happen again.

“Claudine,” he said seriously, “I love you. It will always be you, you know.”

He had drawn me to him and for a blissful moment I allowed myself to lie against him. I wanted to be with him; I wanted to be in that little room again. He had caught me in his spell and something told me he would never let me go.

I said: “I think we should go back.”

“It’s early yet. There’ll be crowds in the streets. All the Court ceremonies won’t be over for a while yet. The servants and apprentices will be out in their thousands. You couldn’t keep them in on a day like this. We could go somewhere… be quite alone… together.”

For a moment I actually considered it. Then I was filled with shame.

“No,” I said firmly. “Never again. Sometimes I wake in the night. I have been dreaming…”

“Of me… of us,” he said.

“Of you and myself, and I awake hating myself. Your standards are not mine. You are soon to be married. We are actually preparing for your wedding. And I am married to David, your own brother. He is such a good man.”

“Yes, David is a good man.”

“He is at Clavering now, working hard as he always does, thinking perhaps that we shall soon be together. You have tried to explain yourself to me… your philosophy of life. It is so cynical, Jonathan. You think so little of matters which are of the utmost seriousness to me.”

“We won’t hurt David. He shall never know.”

“How can you be sure? I’d rather die than that he should know.”

“He won’t suspect. He would never doubt you. He is completely straight himself and he thinks others are the same, particularly you. He has lived his life along lines laid down for him. I know him well. We were in the nursery together; we shared tutors. I was the devious one. I made adventure. I used to spy for my old nurse when she became quite mad, and was so upset by my mother’s death that she watched my father, hoping to catch him in some villainy. Every woman who interested him she wanted to know about. I actually enjoyed that. Once I followed him and your mother into Enderby. That old house, how it crops up! It seems to be a place for secret assignations. David is simple… I don’t mean mentally. He is very clever, intellectually, far more than I ever was, but he is ignorant of life… my sort of life. He lives conventionally, thinks conventionally, and he is inclined to bestow on everyone else the same qualities which he possesses. Therefore he would never suspect.”