The wedding had caused a great deal of stir in the neighbourhood.
“One wedding sparks off another,” prophesied Lily.
But there was still no news of an engagement between Crispin and Lady Fiona.
Schooldays were over and that provided a problem for our respective guardians. Mrs. St. Aubyn did not care to disturb herself greatly in order to launch her daughter into society; Rachel’s aunt had no idea how to; and Aunt Sophie, who had owing to her own youthful experience at Cedar Hall, lacked the means.
Aunt Sophie called a meeting. They must do what circumstances permitted.
While this was going on, I did see Crispin now and then. He noticed me and smiled in a manner which I convinced myself was conspiratorial.
After all, we had had our dramatic encounter, though that was never mentioned, and we had also worked together over the new doll.
I still visited Flora Lane. Lucy was never very welcoming, so I timed my visits to avoid her, reminding myself that it was Flora whom I went to see and she was always glad I came.
At length it was decided that there should be a ball. Aunt Sophie would help to organize it. It would have to be held at St. Aubyn’s, that being the only suitable place and there was actually a ballroom in the house.
Mrs. St. Aubyn was quite interested then. It was like the old days of what Aunt Sophie called “Riotous Living’. We were all excited about it. I guessed Crispin would be there. He would have to be for his sister’s ball although it was really for the three of us.
Lady Fiona’s name had not been mentioned for some time and I believe was forgotten in the neighbourhood. The marriage of Rachel’s aunt and Archie Grindle was the nine days’ wonder at that time.
I was quite often at the Bell House now. It had become a friendly, delightful place. There was only the grim stable to remind me. I believed the others did not think about that as much as I did. The stables were never used because there were no horses at Bell House. Once I went inside, I let the door shut behind me and I stood for some seconds looking up at the rafters. It was horrible. He seemed to materialize. His body was limp . but his eyes looked at me with the same frightening look which had terrified me when I was lying helpless on the ground in Barrow Wood.
I turned and ran out. It was silly. He couldn’t hurt me now. He was dead. He had killed himself because he had been discovered and he could not face living with that.
Shivering, I ran home to The Rowans, promising myself I would never enter that place again. The episode was over, to be forgotten, if that were possible. Crispin had rescued me and we had become friends . of a kind. It was, of course, the affair of Flora’s doll which had done that. But I imagined that he did not dislike me.
Tamarisk had once said that people liked those for whom they had done good turns because every time they looked at them they thought how good they themselves were. Well, he had saved me from something terrible, so perhaps Tamarisk was right and when he saw me he remembered what he had done for me.
There was little talk of anything now between us girls other than the ball. Aunt Sophie took us into Salisbury to buy material for our dresses. I chose a bluish mauve. Tamarisk flame red, and Rachel a cornflower blue. Aunt Sophie was a little wistful, thinking no doubt of the court dressmaker who would have made her gown for her coming-out ball. I had heard all about such things from my mother. The village dressmaker, Mary Tucker, would be entrusted with ours.
“She’ll do a good competent job,” said Aunt Sophie.
“How I wish …”
I was more and more at the Bell House. Archie Grindle was very jolly and there was no doubt of Aunt Hilda’s happiness. She went about the house singing and revelled in the pretty dresses she now possessed. I never ceased to marvel at the change.
Daniel Grindle was frequently there. He was Archie’s eldest son who had taken over the farm with his brother Jack.
Daniel was tall and rather awkward, never seeming to know where to put his hands. I liked him. I called him the Gentle Giant, for he was tall and broad; he spoke little and his father told us that he had a way with animals such as he had never seen in any other living person.
“My grandfather had it,” said Jack Grindle.
“Clan takes after him.”
Jack was shorter and inclined to be fat like his father; and like him too, had plenty to say for himself. They both gave the impression of enjoying life.
It was Jack Grindle who was responsible for the introduction of Gaston Marchmont into our circle.
Gaston Marchmont made a great stir and both Tamarisk and Rachel were constantly talking of him. He was tall, slender willowy almost and very good-looking in, as Tamarisk said, a worldly way. His hair was dark, almost black, and his eyes dark brown. He was elegant in the extreme.
Jack had met him on the Continent; they had travelled across the Channel together and, because Gaston Marchmont was going to put up at an hotel for a little while, Jack suggested that he come and stay at Grindle’s Farm for a few days.
Jack seemed to think it was a great condescension on Gaston’s part to do this. Not that Gaston implied it. Far from it. He was all gracious charm. But I could see why the Grindles who were humble folk, though quite affluent and prosperous allowed themselves to think such a grand personage as Gaston Marchmont was doing them an honour by staying with them.
Jack lost no time in introducing this fascinating gentleman into local society. We learned that Gaston’s mother had been French hence the name Gaston. He had been settling his affairs in France and was now concerned with the estate he had inherited through his father in Scotland, for his father had died recently.
His mode of dress revealed good taste and natural elegance. His suits were cut according to Savile Row, Tamarisk told me, and in his riding gear he looked godlike; he was charm personified. Mrs. St. Aubyn immediately became very fond of him. She flirted gaily with him and he responded gallantly. He was constantly saying that he would have to go to Scotland, but everyone including Jack Grindle was urging him to stay a little longer.
“You tempt me,” he said, ‘and I am so weak. “
Tamarisk said he must stay on for the ball, or she would never forgive him.
“My dear young lady,” he replied, “I cannot refuse the appeal of those beautiful eyes. Just till the ball, then.”
She and Rachel went on talking continuously about Gaston. I did not.
I was a little piqued, I think, because, though he did not exactly ignore me, few of his compliments came my way. He did include me when he talked of us as The Three Graces, but that was just politeness; and I noticed that his eyes were rarely on me and that Tamarisk and Rachel received most of his smiles.
He was, of course, an extremely attractive man. Crispin seemed dour beside him and the Grindle young men country bumpkins. That was unfair. The Grindle young men were very pleasant indeed and I thought the gentle, kindly smile of Daniel was more agreeable than the charm , of Gaston Marchmont.
Mary Tucker worked on our dresses in the St. Aubyn’s sewing-room and one day, when we went for a fitting, and they were as usual talking about Gaston Marchmont, I said: “I don’t think he means half what he says.”
“He does mean some of it,” retorted Tamarisk.
“You’re only jealous because he doesn’t take much notice of you.”
I pondered that. Was I?
Rachel was the first of us to have a real admirer. It was Daniel Grindle. Rachel was very pretty in a rather helpless, feminine way, and Daniel was the sort of man, I decided, who would want to protect people.
I noticed the dreamy look in Daniel’s eyes when he watched Rachel. So did Tamarisk. She could not understand why any young man could look at someone else when she was there. It was a tender look. I had seen him look like that on one occasion when I went to the farm and he was holding a new-born lamb in his arms.