We promised we would, but I was very uneasy.
Leigh was very soon with us. He had scoured Venice, he said, looking for us. He picked me up in his arms and looked searchingly at me.
“You look … blooming.”
Harriet smiled on us benignly.
During lunch Leigh told us that he could only be in Venice one week. He had wasted some time of his leave by going to Eversleigh, where he had heard that we had left for Venice; and more time was spent getting to us as more would be going back. Edwin was envious of him. Poor Edwin, he had been unable to get away.
“You will be able to attend the masked ball,” said Harriet. “I am sure the Duchessa will be most put out if you do not accompany us. She especially welcomes dashing young men.”
Leigh thought it would be amusing. He told us that that villain Titus Oates was beginning to show a certain reticence in his discoveries, and there was a feeling that the tables might really be turning against him. He had been a fool to slander the Duke of York, who was far more powerful than the poor little Queen who relied on her husband’s natural benevolence to save her from disaster.
It was when I was alone with Leigh that I had to be most careful.
But it was wonderful to be with him again. He had always given me a sense of security and I had turned to him for that affection which I had lacked from my father. In the past I had taken my difficulties to Leigh and he had so much enjoyed coming up with the solution. And now this great secret must be kept from him.
We were on the veranda watching the boats pass by on the canal when he said to me: “You mustn’t grieve over Jocelyn Frinton. I know about the ring.”
I could not answer. Those simple words had brought it all back to me with startling clarity.
He patted my hand as he used to when I was a little girl.
“He shouldn’t have given you that ring. It’s over now. I’m glad you’re with Harriet. She’ll be best for you now.”
“She has done so much for me. I don’t think I shall ever be able to repay her.”
“My dear Priscilla, the last thing friends want from each other is payment. Harriet wants you to get over this thing … and you’ll do it.”
“Yes, Leigh.”
“Of course,” he went on, “it was all rather a romantic adventure, wasn’t it, and you are so young.”
“I don’t feel young anymore,” I said tersely.
“But you are. And I’m glad you came to Venice with Harriet. By the way, has she told you her news?”
“News?” I said uncertainly.
“She’s going to have a baby.”
“Oh,” I said faintly.
“She’s delighted. Can’t wait, she says. I must say I was surprised. I never thought of her as the maternal type. Fancy Harriet! Everyone will be amazed. She’ll be telling you all about it. By the way, I went to see Benjie at his new school. He says he hopes you will all be in Venice for his holidays when he wants to come out here.”
I felt apprehensive. It was even harder than I had believed it would be.
“You look worried,” he went on. “Harriet will be all right. She’s a natural survivor.”
“And I’m glad you’ll be here for the ball,” I said.
“Gaiety in Venice, eh? As for you, I’m not sure you should go. You’re not really old enough for balls.”
It was the old theme with him. He regarded me as the perpetual child. I wondered what he would say if he knew the truth, and although I hated having to be secretive with him, I was glad in a way that he did not know.
It was the night of the ball. How romantic it was sailing down the canal to the Palazzo Faliero in our flowing gowns and our masks. The great hall of the palazzo was lighted with flaring torches. Its marble walls—mauves, greens and gold—gave it the appearance of a fairy palace. The water below the palazzo was crowded with boats and the sound of music was in the air.
It seemed as though everyone in Venice was going to the masked ball.
There was no formal reception by the Duchessa because everyone was supposed to be unrecognizable behind their masks, which added to the excitement. At the hour of midnight all would assemble and unmask.
Gregory said that he thought there would be several uninvited guests.
Leigh’s comment was: “You must keep with me, Priscilla. I really think you are too young for such affairs.”
“Nonsense,” retorted Harriet. “One is never too young for such affairs. Priscilla passed out of babyhood some time ago.”
“Leigh will be calling me his little sister when I am fifty,” I said.
His voice was close to my ear. “I intend to call you something else then.”
We alighted and mingled with the guests.
There was an intoxication about the soft lighting and the music. From the veranda on the palazzo the torches shone out on the water and I felt I had come a long way from Eversleigh.
Leigh was close to my side. We danced together … not very well. Neither of us was exactly skilled and there were too many people to make it easy for the most practised performers.
Leigh said: “I don’t know why people come to these affairs, except of course to meet strangers.”
“Perhaps that is what you should be doing,” I suggested.
“I’m going to look after you.”
“Really, there’s no need to make such a task of it.”
“My dear child, do you think I would leave you alone … here!”
“I could look after myself.”
“There are some shady characters around, I do assure you. Adventurers, robbers, seducers … And I don’t think you can look after yourself. You’ve shown …”
I said quickly: “You mean Jocelyn.”
“Well,” he said gently, “you are so young.”
I wanted to shout at him: Stop harping on my youth. I am not young anymore. I shall soon be a mother. That would startle him.
I felt impatient with him. I don’t know what it was about Leigh but I was always happy in his company. I wanted him so much to think highly of me. I had laughed and felt really happy when I was dancing with him; and I was gratified—while at the same time impatient—that he should insist on taking care of me. But I was irritated by his constant references to my youth, and I wanted to jerk him out of his belief that I was still a child.
In a room leading from the hall, tables had been set up and loaded with delicious meats, wines and fruit to which the guests were invited to help themselves when they felt in need of refreshment. Leigh and I took ours out to the veranda and found chairs there. We sat watching the lights on the water and the gondolas going back and forth, and at the same time listening to the clamour which came from the hall.
“It’s a little more peaceful here,” said Leigh. “I am sorry I shall have to leave you the day after tomorrow.”
“How is Edwin? Is he happy?”
“Do you mean that affair with Christabel?”
“Poor Christabel!”
“It would have been quite unsuitable.”
“Why should it have been?”
“She is not the one for Edwin.”
“You mean not rich enough? Not of the right background?”
“I meant nothing of the sort. She is a strange girl. She broods so much. I don’t understand her. Edwin needs someone lively. He is rather quiet. He needs someone who is entirely different from himself.”
“Did he really love Christabel?”
“He liked her very well. I think he was sorry for her. Edwin would always be moved by pity.”
“You think it was pity then?”
“It could have been.”
“He didn’t help her much, did he? It’s no use feeling pity for someone for a while and making it worse than it was before.”