"I live quite a lot of my time here." He hesitated.
"Does Jessamy like it here?" I asked.
"She ... she hasn't been here a great deal. I stay here when I want to be early the next morning or I am working late."
"It's not very far from the castle."
"But it sometimes seems simpler to stay."
I thought it was strange that Jessamy had not mentioned this.
"Talking about our being different," he went on, "there are always rumors about us, you know. There's supposed to be some curse on us. It affects the Mateland wives."
"Oh, what is the curse?"
"It's a long story. Briefly, at the time of the Civil War there was discord between the castle and some of the townspeople here. They were for the Parliament. The castle was of course strictly Royalist. The King's army was in the ascendant here at one time and apparently they raided the town; one of the citizens escaped and came to the castle with his young wife, who was pregnant. He asked for succor. It was refused and one of my ancestors threatened to hand them over to the King's men. They went away; the wife died in a ditch and her husband cursed the Matelands. They had murdered his wife, he said, and they should know no luck in theirs."
"Well, I dare say that has been disproved time and time again."
"I don't know that it has. The odd thing about these legends is that now and then they have a habit of coming true, and when they do they grow in strength."
"And when they don't I suppose they are forgotten."
"My mother went into a decline when I was ten years old," he said. "You know Jessamy is my second wife. I shall never forget the night Rosalie died. She was my wife ... my first wife. She was eighteen. We had known each other since we were children. She was dainty and pretty and rather frivolous. She loved to dance and was rather vain about her appearance ... rather charmingly vain, you understand?"
"Yes," I said. "I understand."
"There was going to be a ball at the castle. She had talked for days about her gown. It was a mass of frills ... lilac color, I remember. She was enchanted with it and tried it on the night before the ball. She danced round and round the room in it. She went too close to the candle flame. We tried to save her ... but it was too late."
"What a terrible thing. I am so sorry."
"There was nothing that could be done," he said quietly.
I put out a hand and touched his. "But you are happy now," I said.
He took my hand and held it but he did not answer.
"Then," he went on, "there was a riding accident. Emerald, you know. My mother ... Rosalie ... Emerald ..."
"But now you have Jessamy and luck will change."
He kept looking at me and still he said nothing. But something passed between us. There was so much that did not have to be said. I understood. He had found a certain peace with Jessamy but he wanted something more.
How did I know? Because of a certain longing in his eyes, because of my response to him and my awareness that he knew of this.
I put down my coffee cup.
"Your patients will be arriving," I said.
"I am glad you came," he answered.
"It was all so interesting."
He went with me to the horses.
I rode away thoughtfully and as I was about to enter the woods I heard the sound of horse's hoofs behind me. Then a rider was at my side.
"Good morning to you." It was David.
"Good morning," I said. "I am just returning to the castle."
"No objection to my joining you, I hope. I am going back myself."
I inclined my head.
"Do I detect a lack of enthusiasm? I see I am not as fortunate as my brother. What did you think of that place of his?"
I said: "Have you been following me?"
His smile was malicious. "I just happened to see you emerging with old Joel. You were both looking mightily pleased with yourselves."
"I had met him by chance and he offered to show me his place in the town. It does not seem to me that there is anything in such a natural occurrence to warrant your amusement."
"Quite right," he said. "All very proper and natural. Why shouldn't our noble doctor show his cousin-in-law this practice of his? I just thought I ought to drop a little word of warning into your innocent ears. There's nothing to choose between us, you know. We're all the same. Mateland men all have the same roving eye ... they always have ... they've been noted for it from the days of King Stephen. They don't change their ways any more than leopards change their spots. Beware of the Matelands, dear Anabel, and particularly beware of Joel."
"You really are letting your imagination run away with you. Both you and your brother are happily married men."
"Are we?" he asked.
"And," I said, "I find this conversation rather distasteful."
"In that case," he said, inclining his head in mock respect, "we must not pursue it."
We went back to the castle in silence. I was very disturbed. I knew that I must get away from there and that I should not come back.
How dull it was at the vicarage. My thoughts were in the castle. Jessamy wrote to me.
I do miss you, Anabel. You should come for Christmas. It will be a traditional Christmas in the castle. It has to be as it was celebrated hundreds of years ago ... all wassailing and so on, and the great bowl in the hall with steaming punch in it. I heard about it from Esmond. He and I are becoming great friends. There is to be a carol service in the hall on Christmas Eve, and then there will be distribution of baskets of Christmas fare to all the needy villagers. They come up to the castle to collect them. The gardeners are beginning on the decorations. We shall have a house party. Do come, Anabel. It will be spoilt for me if you don't. Joel is kept very busy. I have hardly seen him for several weeks. He says there is a lot of sickness in the town. He works very hard. Grandfather Egmont doesn't like it. He says there has never before been such a thing as a Mateland actually taking money from others for what he does. He thinks it's degrading. Mind you, Joel doesn't take money from the poor. He doesn't need it really. All the Matelands are rich ... very rich, I think. Joel is really a very good man, Anabel. He is indeed... .
I paused there. I thought she was a little too emphatic. Then I went on thinking about him. He was doctoring and helping the poor, which was very commendable. But there was a certain set of his jaw ... I could not describe it but it suggested that he was no saint. He was a man who went out for what he wanted and would not rest, I was sure, until he got it. He could be ruthless. He had obsessed me. I wished I had never seen him. "We are all the same," David had said. Did that mean that they were all philanderers?
Stop thinking about them, I warned myself.
There was enough to do at the vicarage even if I had decided that I was not going to Mateland for Christmas. Aunt Amy Jane and Uncle Timothy had been invited to the castle and were going.
"It will be so interesting to have a castle Christmas," said Aunt Amy Jane. "I hope all goes well here, James." She meant, of course, that it would be the first Christmas that she would not be at home to superintend the festival. "I shall be here for the children's party," she went on. "And I am allowing the Mothers' Union to have their annual gathering in our hall. That is all taken care of. I think I can leave the rest with you and go off with a clear conscience."
How I wished that I were going! Silly, I told myself. It was your own fault. You were invited.
It seemed a long Christmas. It rained all through Christmas Eve. Janet cooked the goose with one of the women from the village to help her. It was too much to do alone, she said, now that Amelia had gone off to that Crabtree Cottage.
The doctor, his wife and two daughters dined with us on Christmas Day. It seemed quiet after our usual Christmas at Seton Manor. The day seemed endless and then there was Boxing Day to follow.