"What did you expect?"
"Just what I see ... and I'm glad of it. I thought you might have developed into some terrible old bluestocking. You were a little like that."
"I never expected you would do such a thing! Now let me look at you."
She took a few steps back, shook out her magnificent hair, which had been loosely tied back with a ribbon, turned her eyes upwards in a saintly manner and posed for me.
She was plumper, but as beautiful as ever. I had forgotten how striking she was. She was clad in a long, loose, lavender-coloured teagown and it suited her ... in fact, everything always suited Lavinia.
I felt that she had staged our meeting and was acting it as though it were a scene in a play and she was the heroine.
"You haven't changed a bit," I said.
"Well, I hope not. I work on it."
"India suits you."
She smirked. "I'm not sure. We're going home in two years' time. Dougal can't wait. He hates it here. He wants to go home and study some dry old thing. Dougal just doesn't know how to enjoy himself."
"People don't always find enjoyment in the same things."
She raised her eyes to the ceiling—an old habit of hers, I remembered. "Trust Drusilla," she said. "You've been here five minutes and the conversation has already taken a psychological turn."
"That's just a plain, simple fact."
"What's simple to clever you is profound to a numbskull like me. The point is, Dougal can't wait to get home."
"Where is he now?"
"In Delhi. They are always going somewhere. It's the old Company making its demands. I'm sick of the Company. Fabian is there, too."
"In Delhi?"
"It's the headquarters."
"Why aren't you there?"
"Well, we were in Bombay and we're to stay here for a while. I think in time we may be going to Delhi."
"I see."
"Well, tell me about home."
"It's just as it was except that my father died."
"I heard that from Mama, and you were supposed to marry the good Colin Brady and keep up the parsonic tradition. I heard all about it from Mama. You were not very sensible, which meant that you did not do what she had planned for you."
"I see you are well informed in Framling parish matters."
"Mama is a great letter writer. Both Fabian and I get periodic missives from home. One thing .... she cannot see from there whether her orders are carried out or not ... which is a mercy."
"She has always arranged everything. It is her mission in life."
"She arranged my marriage." She looked a little sulky.
"You went willingly to the altar."
"It seemed all right then, but I'm a big girl now. / decide what I am going to do."
"I'm sorry it didn't work out well."
"Are you? You know, he ought to have married you. You'd have got on well. You would have liked all that talk about olden times. It is just up your street. I can see you getting excited because someone dug up a pot which was used by Alexander the Great. I wouldn't care whether Alexander or Julius Caesar used it. To me it would just be an old pot."
"You're unromantic."
That made her laugh. "I like that. I'm terribly romantic. I'm having quite a good time ... romantically, as a matter of fact. Oh, I'm so glad you're here, Drusilla. It's like old times. I like to see you look at me disapprovingly. It makes me feel so gloriously wicked."
"I suppose there are ... admirers?"
"There always have been admirers."
"With disastrous results."
"I have already told you I am a big girl now. I don't get into silly scrapes any more."
"That, at least, is a mercy."
"You're looking prim again. What is it?"
"You haven't asked about Fleur."
"I was coming to that. What about her?"
"She is well and happy."
"Well, what is there to be so disapproving about?"
"Just that you happen to be her mother and are somewhat casual about the relationship."
"I have to remind you, Miss Delany, that I am now your employer."
"If you feel like that I will return to England at the earliest possible moment."
She burst out laughing. "Of course you won't. I'm not letting you go now. You've got to stop here and put up with it all. Besides, you'll always be my old friend Drusilla. We've been through too much together for it to be any other way."
I said, "You didn't see Fleur before you left. In fact, have you seen her at all since Polly took her?"
"The good Polly didn't want me unsettling her. Those were your own words."
"You know that Fabian is aware."
She nodded. "I've been lectured on my folly."
"I hope you didn't think I told."
"He said it was Polly who told, because he had come to conclusions about you. He seemed to be more angry about that than anything else."
"He has been good," I said. "He has deposited a sum of money for Fleur, to be used at Polly's discretion ... for her education and all that. They are going to have a governess for her. She has to be educated."
"That's fine. What have we got to worry about? And that dreadful Janine was murdered. That worked out very well."
"For you perhaps—hardly for her."
"Blackmailers deserve their fate."
"Have you thought of poor Miriam?"
"I didn't remember her very much. You were the one who was running round getting to know them all while I was in acute discomfort awaiting the birth. It was a horrible place and I'm so glad it's all over."
"Shall you tell Dougal?"
"Good Heavens, no. Why should I?"
"I thought perhaps you might want to see Fleur and have her with you ... though Polly and Eff would never allow that. Or ease your conscience, perhaps."
"Conscience is something one has to learn to subdue."
"I am sure that is one lesson at which you have excelled."
"There goes Drusilla again. Oh, I mustn't remind you of our respective positions or you'll get huffy and I don't want that. Besides, I like those stern asides. They are pure Drusilla. I'm glad you're here. What about this nanny Mama has sent out with you?"
"She is very good. I like her enormously. She is sensible and, I am sure, absolutely trustworthy.",
"Well, that's what I expected, since Mama found her."
"We got on very well." I started to tell her about our journey and the hazardous ride across the desert and the disappearance of Monsieur Lasseur, but I saw that her attention strayed. She kept glancing in the mirror and patting her hair. So I stopped.
I said, "What about the children?"
"The children?"
"Oh, have you forgotten? You have two born in wedlock. We have already discussed and dismissed your illegitimate offspring."
Lavinia threw back her head and laughed.
"Typical Drusillaisms," she said. "I love them. I'm not going to give you the pleasure of being dismissed for impertinence to your mistress, so don't think I am. You have been chosen for me by my determined mama and my overbearing brother approves of the decision ... so you will have to stay."
"Your brother?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact it was he who suggested it in the first place. He said to me, 'You used to get along well with that girl from the rectory. You went to school with her. I daresay you would be amused to have her here.' When he said that I didn't know why I hadn't thought of it before. I said, 'How would she come?' You know Fabian. He replied, 'By steam to Alexandria and then on from Suez.' I didn't mean that, of course. I said, 'Why? How could she?' 'Well,' he said, 'she's a very erudite young woman. She could teach the children. That's what genteel, well-educated young women of flimsy means do—and the rectory girl is exactly that.' "
She laughed and I felt a foolish elation. He had suggested it. It must have been when he had come home and was courting Lady Geraldine that he had spoken to Lady Harriet.