“I’m Mrs. Fitzgerald,” I said.
The woman stared at me for a few seconds and then smiled rather expansively.
“Oh, come in,” she said. “I’ll tell Mr. Fitzgerald ...”
“Oh, he’s home, is he? I wondered whether he would be at this time. My plan had been to be here and surprise him when he came in.”
Then I saw him. He was coming down the stairs and he paused to stare blankly at me for a moment. Then he said, “Lucie!”
“I’ve surprised you, I know,” I explained. “But I came to London and here I am.”
His surprise turned to warmth.
“Oh... Lucie ...”
He had taken me into his arms. I was aware of the woman watching us, smiling. “Thank you, Mrs. Gordon,” he said, noticing her. “This is my wife. We’d like some tea ... or something.”
He put his arm round me. “Come upstairs. It’s wonderful to see you. I can’t tell you how pleased I am.”
“I thought you would be at your office.”
“Well, the fact is I’ve been hard at it ... until today. Then I brought some work home. It was a change of scene and I thought I might get on quicker without interruptions. I was so anxious to get back to Manorleigh.” He opened a door. “Come into the sitting room. Not much compared with Manor Grange, I’m afraid.”
“Well, it is just the ... pied-à-terre.”
“It suffices. It’s not a home really... but the Gordons are good. They really take care of everything.”
“I think it’s rather nice. Homely. You could make something out of it.”
“That’s what Phillida used to say. But it isn’t ours... just rented. We did talk about getting a house of our own, but we never got round to it. However... the great thing is, you are here. Tell me, what made you come? Did you want to see me?”
“Of course I did. But I don’t think I should have disturbed your work if it had not been for Belinda. She came down to Manorleigh... and more or less prized a promise from me to come to town for a few days.”
“Belinda, the wild one,” he said.
“Yes, that’s Belinda. We should have come yesterday but for the fire.”
“Fire?”
“Oh yes. I must tell you about it. It was in our room. The bed is ruined ... all those lovely curtains are a mess. We don’t know how it started. Emery thinks it was a candle which fell over and caught the curtains which smoldered for some time before bursting into flames. Anyway we think that is what happened.”
“But when... when was this?”
“The night before last.”
“In the night... while you were ... in bed!”
“It’s all right, Roland. I woke up in time.”
“Oh, my God,” he murmured.
“The fire had only just started. I rushed out and woke the household. Emery was marvelous.”
He held me tightly against him. “Lucie ...”
“It’s over, Roland. Phillida was in a terrible state about it.”
“Oh yes ... Phillida.”
“She keeps talking about what might have happened to me. But it hasn’t... and it’s a lesson to me to be more careful in the future.”
“I ... I can’t understand how it could have happened.”
“Emery is sure it was the candle... and I suppose he’s right. However, it was all over very quickly.”
He released me, sat down and covered his face with his hands. I went to him and drew them away. His face was tortured with anguish. I felt a tremendous tenderness toward him. How he loved me, I thought. I must try to love him always. I must care for him. I felt suddenly very protective.
I said, “Forget it, Roland. It’s over. Phillida is getting rid of the bed. There’ll be a new one when we get back.”
He did not seem to be listening. He was staring straight ahead and I knew he was seeing that room with the flames creeping up the curtains, and me... lying there, unaware.
He could not stop talking of it.
There was a tap on the door and Mrs. Gordon came in with some tea.
As we drank it I told him that Belinda had come down to see me. He did not pay much attention. I guessed that his thoughts were far away in that bedroom in Manor Grange.
“I am going out with her tomorrow,” I said. I wondered whether to tell him of her troubles and decided that they had been given to me in confidence and that I was not expected to divulge them even to my husband.
“I see,” he said.
“You’ll be busy, of course. Do you think you will be finished by Friday?”
“Oh yes. We’ll go back together.”
Then we talked of ourselves and he told me how much he had missed me.
“I should have come with you,” I said.
He smiled in agreement. Then he said, “Phillida would have hated to be alone at Manor Grange. She has some notions that the servants resent her and think she is trying to usurp your place as mistress.”
I did not answer. I knew there was some truth in this.
Then I said, “You know what servants are. The Emerys were there when my mother was alive. I never saw my mother. She died when I was born, but my half sister Rebecca has talked to me of her so much that she is a real person to me. Before the Emerys came here they were my mother’s servants in her small London house and she took them to Manor Grange with her. So you realize how long they have been in charge of things?”
“Oh yes. Phillida understands that. I think she would like to have a place of our own... start afresh ...”
“She has said nothing to me.”
“No. She wouldn’t. Sometimes she has a feeling that she is in the way... the third party ... if you know what I mean. It’s on her mind quite a lot. She is always wondering whether, now we’re married, she ought to leave us.”
“Oh no. Where would she go? I’m so fond of her, and I know you’d hate it if she went away.”
“We’ve always been together. It would be a terrible wrench for us both.”
“For me too. I love her dearly. I always think of her as my sister.”
“I know she feels the same about you.”
“She was so terribly upset about the fire.”
“I can imagine that. Well, what do you think of the idea? Say somewhere in Yorkshire?
It would be near Bradford and convenient. It’s beautiful countryside.”
I was silent. I should hate to be away from London and Manorleigh.
“We would, of course, keep on this place.”
I looked round it. I could not imagine it as a home. A tall narrow house ... in a street of such houses, it seemed dark after the big airy rooms of the London house which was now Celeste’s and Manor Grange. The latter, with its spacious rooms and inescapable air of mystery, meant a great deal to me.
“You couldn’t sell Manor Grange,” said Roland tentatively. “No, I don’t think I could. Even if I wanted to. I was so shocked when my father died that I am afraid I didn’t take in everything about the will and the practical details. I’ve realized since that, although everything was left to me, it was left in trust. I can’t touch the capital and I suppose the house would come into that category. In any case, the solicitors would have to be consulted before I made any move. I think my father thought I might be prey to fortune hunters.” Roland looked alarmed and I laughed.
“Oh... that couldn’t apply to you, Roland. But there are people.” I thought of Jean Pascal. I had no doubt of his motives. “My father was a very shrewd man,” I went on, “and his great wish was to protect me. Of course, he hadn’t thought of dying for a long time. In any case, he left everything in what is called a trust. It means that I can’t do anything with the capital. It’s for my children and if I don’t have any it’s for Rebecca’s. So I don’t suppose I could sell Manor Grange without a lot of fuss.”
“I see,” said Roland. “Well, this was just an idea of Phillida’s. And she loves Manor Grange. It is just because she feels there is some resentment....”