“She is very fortunate to have you.”
She did not answer that.
She opened the door.
“Well, congratulations, I’m glad you’re going to marry Mr. Crispin. He’s very fond of you. He deserves to be happy.”
“Thank you.”
“Yes,” she said.
“It’s nice … that’s what it is.”
I walked away smiling, though I was faintly disturbed; but I always had been after a visit to the House of the Seven Magpies.
Six weeks after my return we were married. Even so, Crispin chafed against the delay. It was a quiet wedding, as we both wanted it to be.
Mrs. St. Aubyn had raised objections but they were only mild ones. In the first place, it would be celebrated from the bride’s home, which was comparatively humble.
Mr. Hetherington performed the ceremony and I think most of the neighbourhood were present.
Crispin and I were blissfully happy as everyone crowded round with their well-wishing. Rachel was there. I wished Tamarisk had been. I often thought of her. I was sure her enthusiasm for the island would, like all those in the past, not be of long duration. I saw Lucy Lane in the church, and I was pleased that Crispin spoke to her and made sure she was well looked after. I wondered how Flora was, but I am afraid I had little thought to spare for anything but my own marriage and the future which awaited me.
Soon after the ceremony Crispin and I left for Italy and there followed weeks of perfect happiness.
Those were days of sheer perfection. I discovered new depths in Crispin. Never had I realized how joyous he could be. All reserve dropped from him. Now that had gone he was completely relaxed and perfectly happy. There was enchantment everywhere.
For most people Florence is a magical city. For us it was a paradise.
We bargained on the Ponte Vecchio with the jewellers and laughed over our attempts to speak the language. We visited fresco-lined churches and the galleries; we were enthralled by the Palazzo Pitti and the Boboli Gardens. We took a carriage and rode out of the city into the rolling hills of Tuscany. Each hour of those enchanted weeks was a joy. Never had I dreamed of such happiness and to share it with the one I loved seemed the greatest benefit that could befall anyone.
It had to end, of course, but it was a time which would live with us for ever.
The Seven Magpies
And as those wonderful days sped by, I could even anticipate our return with pleasure, for I was eager to start my new life as the mistress of St. Aubyn’s Park.
It seemed miraculous that our difficulties had been so easily swept away. It was not really so very long ago that there had been that unhappy barrier between us and now we were completely happy. Crispin could not forget that I had come back to him, not because he could offer me a grand marriage, but because my love was unshakable. Mrs. St. Aubyn was welcoming to me and it seemed that, just as Fate will deal blow after blow to those she has decided to chastise, so will she shower blessings on those she favours.
Sometimes I was a little fearful of such happiness.
And then the faintest shadow appeared.
It was nothing just a fancy. Crispin had been round the estate that morning and in the afternoon he wanted me to go with him to the Healeys’ Farm. There was some trouble about one of the barns and the visit would give Mrs. Healey the chance to congratulate me on our marriage.
“You know how these people are,” he said.
“Mrs. Healey says you had been to see the Whetstones and Mrs. Whetstone had given you a glass of her special cider which you very much appreciated. So I think it would be a good idea for you to have a little chat with Mrs. Healey.”
I was delighted. I liked to meet the people on the estate and to receive their congratulations, to hear what a good landlord Crispin was and how the place had prospered since he took over.
He was late returning. He said he would be in at three and we would go off immediately. At three-fifteen he had not come and by three-thirty I began to be alarmed.
It was soon after that when he returned. He looked rather anxious and I asked him what was wrong.
“Oh, nothing much,” he said.
“I just got caught up. Let’s get going.
We’ll be very late otherwise. “
Usually he told me what was happening. I waited for him to do so, but he didn’t. I presumed that, as we had to leave at once for the Healeys’, there wasn’t time.
I met Mrs. Healey, drank her cider and it was all very pleasant; and I forgot about Crispin’s arriving late.
The next day I was in Harper’s Green when I met Rachel. She told me that she had left Danielle with the nursemaid and had come out to do a little shopping.
“I can see everything is working out wonderfully,” she said.
“You look radiant.”
“I am so happy, Rachel. And you are too.”
“How different it was! I often think back to the days when the three of us were together … when you and I used to go to St. Aubyn’s and be taught by Miss Lloyd.”
“It seems a long time ago.”
“Such a change.” I saw the dark shadow in her face, and I wondered if she ever thought of Mr. Dorian hanging in the barn. It was a pity such thoughts had to come to spoil a cloudless morning.
Then she said: “I ran into Crispin yesterday. He looked very preoccupied.”
“Oh, where was that?”
“Near the Lanes’ cottage. Yesterday afternoon. He’d obviously been there. How good he is! He does look after them, doesn’t he? I know he always has. I’ve always thought it was so kind.”
We chatted a little more and it was not until later that I thought: So that was why he was so late. He had been visiting the Lanes.
Why had he not said so? Perhaps he had thought it was not necessary.
My mother-in-law said that now St. Aubyn’s had a new mistress we must have people to visit us more often.
That was how it had been in the old days, she said.
“And it always was so in the past, I believe. It was only when I became so frail…”
And when the guests came she did bestir herself a little.
I was busy those days. There was a great deal to learn about the management of a big house. Aunt Sophie was very helpful.
“You must show the housekeeper and the butler that you are in command.
They may feel otherwise that, because you come from a comparatively humble home, they will be able to browbeat you. “
I laughed.
“I don’t think so. Aunt Sophie.”
“You’re doing well. Crispin is proud of the place, remember.”
“I do. After all, he has given his life to it.”
“Therefore, it must be of importance to you. Mistress of St. Aubyn’s,” mused Aunt Sophie.
“I can tell you, it is beyond my wildest dreams. I wanted the best for you. I have written to your father and told him all about the wedding.”
“I have also written to him.”
I closed my eyes and saw it clearly. My father sitting in his chair and Karia reading the letter to him. I wondered whether they would read it to Tamarisk. She had not written, but she was apt to forget people when they were not there. I was expecting a note to say she was coming home. That was something she would have to write about.
My father would be delighted by the miraculous turn of events which had made marriage possible. I had written at length about our honeymoon in Florence. I was sure that would please him.
The days were so full that there was little time for visiting, but I did see Rachel fairly often; and one day I decided to call on Flora.
I found her in the garden. She was sitting there as she used to, with the doll in its pram beside her. I called to her; she turned her head and nodded, so I opened the gate and went in.
“Hello,” I said.