‘I should like that.’
‘You will choose your subject. What will it be?’
‘Not war,’ I said. ‘There is too much war. I don’t like it.’
‘And you married a soldier!’
‘I think you are the kind of soldier who fights for the right.’
‘And I can see that you are going to be a loyal and loving wife.’
‘I shall do my best, but you will have to be patient with me. I know I have a great deal to learn of … er … marriage.’
‘My dearest,’ he said, ‘we both may have a good deal to learn.’
My spirits lifted in the solarium. It faced south and the sun streamed in through the great semi-circular bay window. The hangings were of deep blue with gold fringe and the window-seats had cushions of the same rich colour. The ceiling was most beautiful, delicately decorated and adorned with pictures of two cherubs floating on a cloud carrying between them the family crest. It was full of light and colour and a complete contrast to the cold dank chapel.
Tapestry hung on one side of the wall … and here again the subject was battle—that of Hastings this time. Richard told me that it was the family’s proud boast that they had come to England with the Conqueror.
From the solarium to the King’s Chamber, so called because the King himself had spent a night there. The brick fireplace had been put in specially for him. With loving care Richard pointed out the four-centred chamfered arch and jambs and the beautiful carving round the sides. The King had given his permission for the royal arms to be placed over the door.
‘Do you think he will come again?’ I asked.
‘It’s not unlikely.’
I tried to picture myself as hostess to the King and Queen, and failed.
‘The King’s manners are impeccable,’ said Richard. ‘He would always be charming, so you would need to have no fear if he did. But he is too concerned now with State matters to come visiting.’ Then he turned to me and drawing me to him, kissed my forehead tenderly. ‘You disturb yourself unnecessarily, Angelet,’ he told me. ‘You believe you will be inadequate. Let me tell you this … in a short while you will be asking yourself what there was to fear.’
I knew that he was telling me that everything would be well between us, and I was suddenly as happy as I had been when he first asked me to marry him and marriage seemed to me to be the most romantic adventure in the world.
I was almost blithe as I was conducted through the house. I was shown bedrooms so numerous that I lost count of them. Many of them were named after the colours predominating in them—the Scarlet Room, the Blue Room, the Gold Room, the Silver Room, the Grey Room, and so on. Then there were the Panelled Room and the Tapestry Room and the Pages’ Room, where china of all kinds was kept.
There was one door which Richard passed by and I asked what it was.
‘Oh, just like all the others,’ he said. ‘There is really nothing special about it.’
He opened the door and it seemed to me that he did so almost reluctantly, and because of that I felt a great urge to see what the room contained.
He was right, there was nothing special about it. It contained a table and a few chairs and a very large court cupboard with linen-fold sides.
‘What do you call this room?’ I asked.
‘I think it has been known as the Castle Room.’
‘Oh, I see why. You get a good view of the Folly here.’
I went to the window and stood there. He was beside me and I sensed his apprehension. I knew then that he had not been going to show me this room. The same sort of uneasiness which had enveloped me in the chapel returned to me. From the window there was a better view of the castle than I had seen anywhere else. The walls looked almost white in the sunshine. It was indeed a high wall which surrounded it, and of course this room would be called the Castle Room because it was high up and gave a good view of the miniature battlements.
‘It was a pity that high wall was built,’ I said. ‘It looks not so old as the castle.’
‘How observant you are. How can you tell?’
‘It just looks newer. When was it built?’
He hesitated. ‘Oh … er … about ten years ago.’
‘Then you built it!’
‘Yes, I ordered it to be built.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘Perhaps I wanted to shut out the Folly.’
‘Wouldn’t it have been easier to pull it down … particularly as it’s crumbling and you don’t like it.’
‘Did I say I didn’t like it?’
‘You implied it … calling it a folly and all that.’
‘It was not I who called it a folly. It was called that before I was born.’
‘I suppose you didn’t like to pull down what your ancestor had taken such pains to build, so you had the wall made to shut it out to a certain extent and prevent people’s going there as it might be dangerous.’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘that’s so.’ Then deliberately he turned me away from the window.
He had a rather curt way of conveying that he wished a subject closed and I was learning to take his hints. My husband was a man who expected unquestioning obedience. As a commanding soldier I supposed that was natural.
I began to examine the room. I said: ‘It has a lived-in look.’
‘A lived-in look! What do you mean by that? It’s rarely used.’
‘Then I’m wrong. What is kept in the court cupboard?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Shall we see?’
‘Oh come, there are more interesting things to look at. I want to take you up to the roof.’
‘The roof. That sounds exciting.’
He shut the door of the Castle Room firmly and led me to the newel stairs. The air was warm yet fresh. I stood up there, breathing it in with relish. I could see over the gardens to the wooded hills and beyond a house in the distance. I examined the detailed ornamentation of the turrets and looked for the Folly, but I could not see it from this side of the house.
On the way down we passed through the long gallery and I paused to examine the portraits. There was a fine one of Richard himself and next to him the portrait of a young woman. I knew without asking that she was his first wife, and I could not help a great curiosity. She was pretty and very young, even younger than I was. Her pretty fair hair was dressed high above her head which made her face look small; she had large appealing blue eyes. There was an expression in her face which fascinated me. It was almost as though she were pleading to be helped, as though she were afraid of something.
Richard said: ‘Yes, that’s Magdalen.’
‘Magdalen,’ I repeated.
‘My first wife.’
‘Was she very young when she died?’
‘Nineteen.’
I had the same uneasy feeling that had assailed me before. I suppose I couldn’t help imagining that girl with him and I knew I should go on doing so.
‘Was she very ill?’
‘She died in childbirth.’
‘So there was a child.’
‘It was a double tragedy.’
Again that secret command: We shall not talk of this.
Well, I thought, I understand that. After that he led me down to the outhouses and I saw what a fine stable he kept. He showed me the bolting-house, the washing-house and the winery, and I was aware that I had become mistress of a fine establishment.
I said: ‘I shall write and tell my sister and my mother all about my new home.’
‘You must do that,’ he said.
‘And when my sister is well they must come and visit me.’