There was something missing though, and after my encounters with Jonathan, I knew what. I did not feel that overwhelming excitement when David took my hands, and I kept thinking of Jonathan in the sewing room slipping my shift from my shoulders; and I knew in that moment that I wanted them both. I wanted the gentleness, the reliability, the sense of security, the absorbing subjects I could share… all that came from David; and on the other hand, I wanted the excitement of that sensual allure which Jonathan brought me.
I wanted them both. What a quandary, for how could one have two husbands?
I looked at David. How pleasant he was. There was an earnestness about him—an innocence in a way. I believed I could enjoy a life spent, at Eversleigh, discussing with him the affairs of the estate, looking after tenants on the Eversleigh land, delving into matters which absorbed us both.
If I said Yes, my mother would be pleased. Dickon would be too, although he would be indifferent as to whether I chose David or Jonathan. But Jonathan had not asked me. Yet I knew that he wanted me… He lusted after me, as they put it in the Bible. And because of who I was he would have to marry me to get me into his bed.
I came very near to saying Yes to David, but something held me back. It was the memory of Jonathan, and the stirring of hitherto unknown emotions which he had aroused in me.
“I’m so fond of you, David,” I said. “You have always been my very good friend. But just now, I feel I want to wait.”
He understood at once.
“Of course, you want to wait. But think about it. Remember everything we could do. There is so much in the world to absorb us.” He waved his arms, indicating the shelves of books. “We have so much to share, and I love you very dearly, Claudine. I have from the moment you came here.”
I kissed his cheek and he held me against him. I felt pleasantly secure and happy; but I could not shut out the memory of Jonathan; and when I looked in David’s clear blue eyes I thought of the startling blue flame in those of Jonathan.
I couldn’t sleep that night. Perhaps that was understandable. I had had a proposal of marriage which I had almost accepted; I had also had the experience in the sewing room and I did not know which had affected me more deeply.
One thing I had done before getting into bed was to lock my door. Coming to the sewing room as he had, Jonathan had shown me clearly that he was capable of rash actions, and my response had taught me that I had to beware of my own feelings.
I spent the morning as I always did with my governess, and in the early afternoon I went for a ride. I had not gone very far when I was overtaken by Jonathan.
“Hello,” he said. “What a surprise!”
Of course I knew that he had watched me leave and had then come after me.
“I should have thought you would have been ashamed to show your face,” I said.
“I was under the impression that you rather liked it; and if it pleases you, that is all I ask.”
“What do you imagine Molly Blackett thought of your behaviour in the sewing room?”
“I must first ask a question of you. Does Molly Blackett think? I believe her mind is completely taken up with pins and needles and ladies’—er—is there such a thing as a placket? It would be most appropriate if there is, because that rhymes with her name.”
“She was shocked. You know very well that my mother did not wish to see her.”
“But I wished to see you more closely in that delicious state of undress.”
“It was very foolish and decidedly ungentlemanly.”
“The best things in life often are,” he said ruefully.
“I dislike this flippant talk.”
“Oh come! You know you find it irresistible… as you do me.”
“I knew you always had a high opinion of yourself.”
“Naturally, for if I don’t, who else will? They take their cue from me, you know.”
“I don’t want to hear any more glorification of your character.”
“I understand. It does not need glorification. You are wise enough, chère Mademoiselle, to see it as it really is, and that pleases you. I believe it pleases you mightily.”
“You are absurd.”
“But adorable with it.”
My answer to that was to whip up my horse. I turned into a field and galloped across it. He was beside me. I had to pull up, as I had come to a hedge.
“Let me make a suggestion,” he said. “We could tether our horses and sit under yonder tree. Then we could talk of many things.”
“It is hardly the weather for sitting out-of-doors. I believe it could snow in a moment.”
“I would keep you warm.”
I turned away again but he laid a hand on my bridle.
“Claudine, I do want to talk to you seriously,” he said.
“Well?”
“I want to be near you. I want to touch you. I want to hold you as I did yesterday. That was wonderful. The only trouble was that dear old Molly Blackett would come blundering in.”
“What do you want to talk seriously about?” I asked. “You are never serious.”
“Rarely. But this is one moment when I am. Marriage is a serious business. My father would be quite pleased if you and I married, Claudine, and what is more important—so would I.”
“Married to you!” I heard a pitch of excitement in my voice. I went on scathingly: “Something tells me that you would not be a very faithful husband.”
“My chère Mademoiselle would keep me so.”
“I think I should find the task too onerous.”
He laughed aloud. “Sometimes you talk like my brother.”
“I find that rather a compliment.”
“So now we are to hear of the virtues of St. David. I know you are rather fond of him—in a special sort of way.”
“Of course I’m fond of him. He is interesting, courteous, reliable, gentle…”
“Are you, by any chance, making comparisons? I believe Shakespeare once commented on the inadvisability of that. You will know. If not, consult Erudite David.”
“You should not sneer at your brother. He is more…”
“Worthy?”
“That is the word.”
“And how it fits. I have an idea that you are more favourably inclined towards him than I like.”
“Are you by any chance jealous of your brother?”
“I could be… in certain circumstances. As no doubt he could be of me.”
“I don’t think he has ever aspired to be like you.”
“Do you think I have ever aspired to be like him?”
“No. You are two decidedly different natures. Sometimes I think you are as different as two people could be.”
“Enough of him. What of you, sweet Claudine? I know you respond to me. You like me, don’t you? You liked me very much when I came into the room and routed old Blackett and I kissed you. True, you put on your mask of properly-brought-up-young-lady. ‘Unhand me, sir!’ which really meant I want more of this… and more…”
I was scarlet with mortification.
“You presume too much.”
“I reveal too much which you would prefer to hide. Do you think you can hide the truth from me? I know women.”
“I had gathered that.”
“My dearest little girl, you don’t want an inexperienced lover. You want a connoisseur to direct you through the gates of paradise. We would have a wonderful time together, Claudine. Come, say yes. We’ll announce it at the dinner party. It’s what they want. And in a few weeks we’ll be married. Where shall we go for our honeymoon? What say you to Venice? Romantic nights on canals… the gondoliers singing love songs as we drift along. Does that appeal to you?”
“The setting would be ideal I am sure. The only thing I should object to is that I should have to share it with you.”
“Unkind.”