I felt numb with happiness, which I could not accept as real. He was holding me tightly. I felt protected against the fury of Lady Harriet, the disappointment of Lady Geraldine and the terrible fear that I would wake up and find I had been dreaming. Don't think of what's to come, I admonished myself. Live in the moment. This is the greatest happiness you could ever know.

He felt no such qualms. I knew, of course, that he would never have any doubts that he could have what he wanted.

"So," he said, "we'll go back. No delays. It will be the quickest wedding in Framling history. No more protests ... please."

"If it is true. If you mean it ... if you really mean it, then ..."

"Then what?"

"Then life is wonderful."

We called in Polly and Eff and told them the news.

"So you are getting married," said Polly. She was a trifle bellicose, I must admit. I saw the glint in her eyes. She was still a little uncertain whether her little ewe lamb was going to be devoured by the big, bad wolf.

He knew how she regarded him and I saw the glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Soon," he told her, "you shall dance at our wedding."

"My dancing days are over," said Polly tersely.

"But on such an occasion they might be revived, perhaps," he suggested.

Eff's eyes glistened. I could see her choosing her dress. "It's for a wedding, a rather special one. Sir Fabian Framling. He's marrying a special friend of ours." I could hear her explaining to the tenants. "Well, I suppose you'd call it one of them grand weddings. Polly and me, we've had our invitations. Such an old friend."

Polly was less euphoric. She didn't trust any man except her Tom, and her suspicion of Fabian was too deeply rooted to be dispersed by an offer of marriage.

I could smile at her fears and be happy.

Fabian wanted to stay on in London for a few days, and then we would go back together. He had booked a room in a hotel. Eff was relieved. She had had an idea that she might have to 'put him up,' but she did not really think there was a vacant room in any of the houses that would be worthy of a titled gentleman, although the prestige that would come from being able to say, "When Sir Fabian was in one of my rooms ..." would be great.

Later that day Fabian and I went to a jewellers to buy a ring. It was beautiful—an emerald set in diamonds. When it was on my finger I felt happier than I ever had been in my life ... for the ring seemed to seal the bond and to proclaim to the world that I was to marry Fabian.

I believed I would be happy. I believed I could forget the horrible sights I had witnessed during the Mutiny. I was loved by Fabian, more deeply, more tenderly than I had ever believed possible; and somehow at the back of my mind I linked my happiness with the destruction of the peacock-feather fan.

It was ridiculous, I knew—a flight of fancy. Perhaps I had been too long in India, where mysticism seemed to flourish more than it could in the prosaic air of England. No blame could attach to me. I had not destroyed it. Polly had done that for me and she had never owned it, so it could not involve her. I closed my eyes and could see those beautiful blue feathers curling up in the flames. It was ridiculously fanciful. I had allowed the fan to take hold of my imagination: subconsciously I had endowed it with magical qualities and so it had seemed to influence my life.

But no more. I felt free. I wanted to live every moment ahead of me to the full. There would be difficulties to face. I could leave those for the future and live in this moment ... this wonderful moment ... with the joy of loving and being loved.

Fabian and I sat in the gardens opposite the house and talked.

He said suddenly, "There is the question of the child."

"They will never give her up," I told him.

"She can't stay in this place."

"Fabian, you can't use people when they are useful and when you think they have served their purpose cast them aside."

"I have an idea. They should bring her down to Framling."

"Polly and Eff!"

"This is what I think. There are a couple of vacant houses on the estate. They could have one of these and the child would be there ... near Framling. She could live between the two houses for a while. Then the time will come when she will go away to school. And she can think of both the house with those two in it and Framling as her home."

"They have their houses. They wouldn't want to go to the country."

"They'd want what was best for Fleur, and they'd be near you. I think they could be persuaded and you are the one to persuade."

"I am not sure they will accept it ... or even consider it."

"You'll do it. You'll persuade them."

"They are independent."

"They own that house, don't they? They could sell it and buy this place."

"What about the price?"

"It could be anything that fitted. They could have the place for nothing."

"They would never accept that. They'd call it being beholden."

"Then let them buy it ... at whatever price will fit. It's quite simple."

"You don't know Polly and Eff."

"No, but I know you and I am sure you can make it work out."

I talked to Polly first.

"Well, I never!" she said. "Give up this house. Take the one they've got empty. We want no charity from them."

"It wouldn't be charity. You'd be absolutely independent of them. You could sell this house and buy the other with the proceeds."

"Not on your life."

"You'd be near me, Polly. That would be lovely."

She nodded.

"And Fleur would have all that the Framlings could give her."

"I know that. It's worried me at times. I've talked to Eff."

"You gave her a home when she needed it. You gave her love. That was wonderful, Polly. But she will have to go to school. Framling will be a good background."

"You don't think Eff and me haven't thought of that."

"Why not speak to Eff?"

Polly was weighing the advantages. Most certainly she and Eff wanted the best for Fleur. It was more important to them than anything; and I could see Polly was liking the idea of being near me. She was thinking I might need a bit of advice, married to that one.

She was wavering. Eff had said she was getting tired of some of the tenants. She had had a lot of trouble with Second Floor No. 28.

I said, "Polly, it would be wonderful for me."

"I'll speak to Eff," said Polly. "She won't, though."

"You might persuade her."

"Oh, I know she wants the best for Fleur, and I can see it would be a bit different there than here ..."

"Think about it, Polly ... seriously."

Later I said to Fabian, "I think it might work."

Fabian and I travelled back to Framling together. I was bracing myself for facing Lady Harriet.

I was amazed at how graciously she received me. There was a difference in her attitude. I had left the house as the governess to her grandchildren; I returned as the fiancee of her beloved son.

I wondered if she were asking herself what Fabian was doing, throwing himself away on the plain girl from the rectory—particularly when her choice had fallen on someone else.

I remembered that long-ago incident when he had brought me as a baby to his house and proclaimed that I was his child. Lady Harriet had insisted that her son's whim should be gratified. Now perhaps it was a similar situation.

Smiling, she discussed the wedding.

"There is no point in delay," she said. "I have thought for long, Fabian, that it was time you were married. You can't be married from here, Drusilla, that would be quite irregular. Brides should not be living under the same roofs as their bridegrooms the day before their marriages. So you can go to the rectory. That will be the most appropriate, because it was your old home. It's a pity Colin Brady can't give you away. He would have been the best person for that. But he will have to officiate in the church ... so it will have to be the doctor. That will be an excellent alternative, as his daughter is at the rectory now. The next best thing to Colin Brady himself."

Lady Geraldine was mentioned only once. "A nice girl ... a little too fond of riding. She spent most of the day in the saddle. I believe that broadens the figure and can mean a lack of other interests."

She gave no hint that she was disappointed. Here was a new side to Lady Harriet. Her love for her son went as deep as did that she had for Lavinia ... and perhaps deeper, for Fabian was perfect in her eyes. The fact that she rarely mentioned her daughter did not mean that she had forgotten her. She often went to Lavinia's old room and stayed there for a long time and she would be noticeably subdued when she emerged. As for Fabian, he could do no wrong in her eyes. He was her son and therefore the perfect man. Fabian had chosen me and, because I was his choice, miraculously I had become hers.

I could not believe in such a volte-face until I began to understand Lady Harriet. She must, of course, always be right, so wisely she promptly adjusted her views to the inevitable and made herself believe that it was what she had wanted all the time. I felt warmer towards her because we both loved the same person and he was more important than any other to us. She recognized this and it made an instant bond between us.

History did seem to be repeating itself. I overheard a conversation and shamelessly I listened, as I had on another occasion.