“Jonathan says he did nothing.”
“Then he didn’t. So why was there all that fuss?”
“Oh … it’s all over now.”
She stamped her foot. “It’s not over. Great-Grandpapa Frenshaw is very cross with Jonathan and he might not leave him Eversleigh.”
Where did she learn such things? Listening at doors, I supposed, slyly questioning the servants. I knew she would be adept at that.
She went on: “That girl came into his bedroom. He didn’t send for her.”
“Who told you that?”
“Never mind,” she said severely. “It’s not the point. She came in and he didn’t send for her. Then she blamed him and said he tore her clothes. She was lying.”
“It’s all over now,” I said. “We don’t want to worry about it any more.”
“I want to know the truth. I’m going to make Prue Parker tell the truth.”
“Prue Parker has gone. We shall never see her again.”
“She must be somewhere.”
“Listen,” I said, “do you want to go up to London to see your father?”
“Yes.”
“Very well, then. We’ll go.”
David and Claudine came with us this time. Neither of them really wished to leave Eversleigh, but there were some products which David had to buy. Peter was already in London. He had left some days before—on urgent business, he said.
When we arrived at the house in Albemarle Street he was there.
I could not stem the exuberance which was rising in me. I should see Jake. It would be difficult to be alone with him because there was Tamarisk to be looked after. It had been different when Jonathan was there to take her off my hands.
Jake was delighted to see us. Tamarisk asked a good many questions about his home in Cornwall which made me think she might be considering going there. There was no doubt that she was rather fascinated by him. Who would not be by Jake?
There was an occasion when Tamarisk was out of the room and we had a few words together.
“When?” he asked.
“It’s difficult,” I replied. “There is Tamarisk …”
“If you could come one evening.”
“I can hardly do that.”
“We could say we were at a concert… a theatre … Who is with you?”
“David and Claudine.”
“They would not be as watchful as your mother. I fancied sometimes she was … aware.”
“She may well have been. She is aware of a good deal… particularly when it concerns me.”
“This is too frustrating,” he said. “We shall be together. I can’t stay here just waiting for you to come to me. I’ll find some reason why you have to be here.”
“No … not in this house. It seems too great a betrayal.”
“We’ll stay in an inn … I’ll rent a house …”
I shook my head.
“What are we going to do, Jessica?”
“The wise thing would be to say goodbye. If Tamarisk would go with you to Cornwall that would be a solution.”
“And never see you … or rarely!”
“There isn’t anything for us, Jake.”
“Nonsense. You love me. I love you.”
“It’s too late. Someone once said that life was a matter of being in a certain place when the time was right. The time was wrong for us.”
“My dear Jessica, we have to make it right.”
I shook my head. “It is impossible. I couldn’t hurt Edward. He relies on me. He has suffered. I can’t just use people like that.”
“He would understand.”
“Yes, he would understand. But understanding doesn’t make the hurt less. He would understand too well. I will never leave him.”
“And what of me? What of us?”
“We are two strong and healthy people. We have to live our own lives in the best possible way.”
“You are condemning us to a life of emptiness.”
“You have your daughter. She is an interesting girl. You could find great joy in her, and if she gives you her affection she can be fiercely loyal.”
“As she is to Jonathan. Who else?”
I shrugged my shoulders and he went on: “To you? To the people who did so much for her? I agree she is interesting. I should be happy to have her affection … if she deigned to give it. But it is not a daughter I crave for. It is you… my own love, my Jessica.”
“I can’t see a way out then. Perhaps in time it will be easier to bear.”
“I don’t intend to stand aside and let life use me.”
“What will you do?”
“I’ll find a way.”
“You frighten me a little when you talk like that. I think you could be rather ruthless.”
“I am sure you are right,” he said.
“There is no way… except by telling Edward, and I will never do that.”
“If he knew he would understand. It is unnatural for you to be condemned to such a life.”
“He is my first duty.”
“Your duty is stronger than your love?”
“In this case it has to be.”
He shook his head. “I will find a way,” he repeated.
Tamarisk came into the room.
“Are you talking about me?” she demanded.
“You always imagine people are talking about you. Do you think you are such a fascinating subject?”
“Yes,” she said and we all laughed.
When it was time to leave Jake said he would come back with us.
“That is not necessary,” I said. “I want to call in at one of the shops and we have not far to go.”
He stood at the door waving to us. I was deep in thought remembering his words. He had looked so determined when he had said he would find a way. What could he do? There was only one way: To go to Edward and ask him to release me.
I knew I could never be completely happy again if I did that. Edward would haunt me all the days of my life.
We had turned out of Blore Street when I saw a young woman, some yards ahead of us, hurriedly start to cross the road.
In a second Tamarisk was after her. The woman disappeared round a corner. Tamarisk followed.
What was she doing? I started to run. I did not want her to be alone in the streets of London. She knew her way to Albemarle Street, of course, but how inconsiderate of her to run off suddenly without a word.
I turned the corner. The woman was going into a building. Tamarisk went after her.
I ran as fast as I could.
Then I recognized the building. It was Frinton’s Club, that place of ill omen where Jonathan had lost five hundred pounds on his visit.
“Tamarisk!” I shouted. “Where are you going?”
I pushed open the door and went in. There was a hall carpeted in glowing red. The walls were plain white. A man was seated at a desk, staring after Tamarisk’s flying figure.
“Where are you … ?” he was beginning when he saw me … I ignored him. My eyes were on Tamarisk who was disappearing through a door which led from the hall. I followed.
There were people in the room—two men and several women. I stared in bewildered amazement. One of those women was our one-time parlourmaid, Prue Parker. But what a different Prue Parker! Her face was delicately painted and she was smartly dressed in a light navy coat trimmed with fur; her gloves were a delicate grey which matched her shoes. I realized that she was the woman whom Tamarisk had been following.
That was not all. The girl beside her was not unknown to me. On the other occasion when I had seen her she had been pretending to be blind. Yes, there with Prue Parker was the girl who had led me to that empty house.
But the greatest shock of all was the sight of the man who had risen from his chair and was staring at us as though he could not believe his eyes.
It was Peter Lansdon.
There was a silence, which seemed to go on for a long time. It was as though neither of us could believe what we saw and were trying to come to understanding in our bewildered minds.
He spoke first. “Jessica?” he murmured.
I did not answer. I looked from him to those two women.
“How … how did you get in here?” he stammered.