"I hope so. Of course, his duties are considerably lightened by the coming of Colin Brady."

"Oh, the curate. I hear he is quite a success."

"That's true, and it is very fortunate that he is there. There are some days when my father is unable to work and that distresses him. But Mr. Brady takes on all the duties and it is a great load off my father's shoulders."

"I suppose he will want a living of his own one day."

"He certainly will."

He nodded and again he was giving me that probing look.

"I daresay you have a great deal in common."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Both in Holy Orders, so to speak. You by accident of birth and he by choice."

"I suppose you could say that."

"And you are obviously good friends."

"One could not be anything else with Mr. Brady. He is so friendly with everyone."

"An admirable young man."

Again the almost derisive smile. I was annoyed with him. First he had decided that I had had a liaison in France and that Fleur was the result and now he was contemplating marrying me off to Colin Brady. It was really quite impertinent ... assuming the role of lord of the manor taking care of the underlings.

I wanted to tell him that I had not sought his company and that I did not care for his assumptions, but of course I did nothing of the sort, and in due course he changed the subject.

He talked about India, a subject which clearly fascinated him, the scenery and the people. He had not yet seen it, he told me, but he was learning so much about it that he felt he was beginning to know it.

I was interested to hear about the people, the caste system, the power of the company, the markets and the exotic goods which could be bought there. I was quite beguiled, but I could not forget our previous conversation, and the implication that Fleur was the result of an indiscretion on my part; and, of course, I could not tell him that it was his sister and not I who was at the centre of that sordid tragedy.

In due course the train steamed into our station. One of the grooms from Framling had brought the carriage and Fabian drove me to the rectory.

He took my hand and smiled at me as he said goodbye. It had been a most interesting and illuminating visit, he told me, with double-edge meaning.

I felt very uneasy, and I could not get out of my mind that thought of the fire at The Firs. I wondered which of the strange people I had known had been its victims. Had Janine been one of them?

Mrs. Janson told me that all had been as well as could be expected at the rectory during my absence. The rector had had one rather bad turn but she hadn't thought it necessary to interrupt my holiday. That Mr. Carruthers had been over once or twice and his visits seemed to do the rector a power of good. There they had been, huddled over some old maps and things that Mr. Carruthers brought, and it was like a tonic for the rector. And, of course, Mr. Brady was there to look after everything, so she could say it had all gone off rather well.

During the next week or so my friendship with both Dougal Carruthers and Colin Brady seemed to take a new turn.

Dougal came often and my father was eager for me to join them in their discussions.

"You will find it all so interesting," he said. "Of course, Mr. Carruthers' forte is the Anglo-Saxons ... a little late for me, but I am finding it all absorbing. He has a good knowledge of early European history, which is very necessary to the period, of course. You will find his conversation quite fascinating."

I was rather surprised that this was so. He brought books for me to read and I was glad of the diversion, for I had been more upset than I had realized by those encounters with Fabian. I could not stop thinking about him and his insinuations. When Lavinia returned I would tell her that she must explain to her brother what my part had been in the adventure.

It was clear that he had pieced things together and come up with what he thought was the right solution. I did not want him to think that first I could have been involved in such a sordid affair and secondly that I should abandon my child ... even to a trusted nurse. Lavinia would have to explain.

I wished I could stop thinking of Fabian. He intruded constantly into my thoughts. I was not sure of my feelings towards him and sometimes they came close to dislike. I dreaded meeting him, which was always possible as we lived so close to each other; on the other hand, I hoped I would.

He made me feel alive, on the defensive as no other had ever done before. It was rather alarming because of Fleur; on the other hand, our meetings had been an exhilarating experience.

I wished I could stop thinking of the fire at The Firs. Janine was constantly in my mind. What had become of her? She knew where we were, so perhaps she would get in touch. I believed her aunt had amassed a fortune and surely she would have left Janine well provided for. I wished there had been more news in the papers.

My friendship with Dougal was developing and I began to think that he came to the rectory to see me as well as my father.

The interest of probing into the past took hold of me for a time; it was because I needed to keep my mind from dwelling on Fabian and what he might be thinking about me—if he gave me another thought. Perhaps it was presumptuous of me to think that he would, but he had seemed deeply interested at the time, which might be because of his sister's involvement. Moreover, I had muddled dreams in which The Firs featured. I was back in that half world, surrounded by strange people. I saw George laying his fires and in the middle of the night creeping out and lighting one. I dreamed of waking up, suffocating smoke in my lungs. How dreadful for those poor people caught in such a place!

Colin's attitude was changing towards me, too. Church matters brought us together. He would always discuss them with me—what hymns should be chosen for special services, who should have which stall at the annual bazaar, and when the Framlings should be asked when we might make use of their grounds.

I imagined I could see plans forming in Colin's mind. It was only natural that they should. He was a young curate in search of promotion. This would seem the perfect parish for him. Parsons needed wives; promotion was easier for them if they had the right one. The rector's daughter would be considered highly acceptable, and the likelihood was that, married to me, the living would be his.

I thought, as most girls do, of marriage; but I had learned in the Framling garden that I was plain and I knew that plain girls did not attract husbands as readily as pretty ones. I had told myself that if no one wanted to marry me I did not care. I would be my own mistress and not have to consider the vagaries of any man.

My chances, if any, would be few and, as Polly would say, no sensible girl would turn them away without consideration; but I had made up my mind that I would prefer not to be married at all than because it was a convenient solution for Colin Brady.

I had to admit at the same time that I had been thinking just a little romantically of Dougal Carruthers. He was moderately good looking, gentle and courteous to everyone. Mrs. Jan-son was always delighted if he stayed to lunch. She was also very fond of Colin Brady, but I believed she had a special admiration for Dougal Carruthers.

I was becoming very interested in history and he brought books for me to read, which we discussed. One day he suggested that we ride to Grosham Castle, which was about eight miles away. It would be a day's outing and Mrs. Janson could give us a picnic lunch to take with us. She was delighted to do this. Leave it to her, she said. She knew just what was wanted.

So early in the morning we set out from the Framling stables. It was a lovely summer's day, not too hot, with a gentle breeze; and we made our leisurely way to the castle.

Dougal did not want to hurry. He liked to savour the countryside. He was interested in wildlife. We walked our horses side by side so that it was easier to talk. He told me that he was not looking forward to going to India. He would rather stay at home. He would have liked to be attached to some university and pursue his studies.

We reached the castle at about noon. The sun was getting warm and as we had made an early start we decided to take, a quick look at the ruins and after that refresh ourselves with what Mrs. Janson had prepared for us. After that we could explore more thoroughly.

Grosham was a shell, although the walls were intact and, riding up to it, one would have no idea that the interior had been destroyed.

We picked our way over the jutting stones—part of an inner wall—past broken columns, over grass which was growing where once there had been a tiled hall.

Dougal's indignation was great, for it was not natural age and decay which had ruined Grosham, but Cromwell's soldiers.

In the shadow of the castle we opened the picnic basket to find legs of roasted chicken with salad and crusty bread with a pot of butter. There was fruit to follow, and a bottle of Mrs. Janson's homemade elderberry wine.

We were hungry and the meal tasted especially delicious.

I did enjoy talking with Dougal and as I had been reading a great deal more since I had known him I was able to talk with confidence.

I had rarely seem him so indignant. "To think that castle might be in perfect condition today but for that ... vandal."

"You are referring to the self-righteous Oliver, of course."

"I hate to see beautiful things spoilt."