“But this is not one of those. It’s us. Please get out of your silly old heads that you have to find a husband for me. When I feel the need of one I’ll choose him myself. At the moment, I am very content for everything to remain as it is.”

“You’ve made that clear enough. And what’s this about our getting old? I’ll never be old.”

“I don’t believe you ever will.”

“Well, come on, Lottie.”

He took my face in his hand and looked at me. “Stop fretting,” he said. “When have you not had your own way, eh? Nothing is going to change that… just because you have reached the mature age of eighteen. Stop thinking about age. That’s the best way to ward it off. All will be well. You are like me … born lucky. Life works out for people like us. Look at me. A wicked old sinner and I have got the two best women in the world.”

He kissed me swiftly.

“Good night,” he went on briefly.

My mother kissed me and they were gone.

Nothing had changed. No one would attempt to force me, nor even persuade me, to do what I did not want to.

My fate was in my own hands.

It was the day of the party. In the morning Amaryllis and I rode over to Enderby. We did not think for a moment that Aunt Sophie would come, but we had to assure her that if she decided to, we should be very happy to see her.

I said to Amaryllis: “It is good to get away from the house. The servants seemed to be running round in circles like a lot of ants. They seem to be busy but they are not sure doing what.”

“There is so much to be prepared and both our mothers want everything to go without a hitch. They’ll be terribly hurt if it doesn’t.”

We had reached Enderby. Jeanne met us and told us that Aunt Sophie was not very well. She believed she had a cold coming.

“Would she not want to see us today?” I asked. “We only came to enquire how she was, and to tell her that if she did decide to come to the party, we’d be delighted.”

“Oh, she wouldn’t come to the party, but she will be glad to see you.”

We went into Aunt Sophie’s room. Tamarisk was seated on a stool with a little table before her. She was painting in lurid reds and blues.

“I am sorry you are not well, Aunt Sophie,” I said.

“Are we disturbing you?” asked Amaryllis.

“No … no. Come in. I thought I’d have a day in bed. Jeanne thinks I should. Just a slight cold. Tamarisk is keeping me company.”

Tamarisk glanced up from her painting, looking very virtuous as though she were performing some act of mercy.

“What are you painting?” Amaryllis asked Tamarisk.

“I’m painting gypsies.”

“Tamarisk saw the gypsies yesterday, didn’t you, Tamarisk?” said Aunt Sophie. “She came back and told us all about it. We wondered where she was. Jeanne went out and found her with the gypsies.”

“I like gypsies,” said Tamarisk. “They have caravans. They sleep in them … and sometimes on the grass. There are horses and dogs and children without shoes and stockings. I don’t want to wear shoes and stockings.”

“You’d hurt your feet if you didn’t.”

“Gypsies don’t hurt their feet.”

“They are used to it,” I said, “and they would be thankful to have shoes.”

Tamarisk was thoughtful. Then she said: “They have fires on the ground and they cook the dinner on them.”

Amaryllis said to Aunt Sophie: “My mother would be so delighted if you came to the party tonight.”

“My dear child,” said Aunt Sophie, “I am afraid I am not well enough.”

“I want to come to the party,” cried Tamarisk. “It ought to be my party.”

“You always have a party for your birthday, mon amour” said Aunt Sophie.

“I want this party.”

“This is Jessica’s and Amaryllis’.”

“I have a birthday, too.”

“We all have birthdays and this happens to be mine and Amaryllis’,” I told her.

“Two of you! It ought to be mine, too. I want to come.”

“My dearest,” said Aunt Sophie, “it is not a children’s party. It is for grown-ups.”

“I don’t want a children’s party. I want a grown-ups’ party. I want to come.”

“When you are eighteen,” I said.

Tamarisk glared at me and leaving her painting went over to Aunt Sophie. She looked at her appealingly. “Please, I want to go to the party.”

“Now, Tamarisk my dear, you shall have a party of your own. This is not for little ones.”

Tamarisk stamped her foot. “You don’t love me,” she said.

Aunt Sophie looked desolate. “Oh, my little one …”

“You don’t. You don’t,” she cried. “I hate you. I hate you all.” With that she ran from the room.

“Oh dear,” said Aunt Sophie, almost in tears.

“She needs a very stern governess,” I said and even Amaryllis admitted that the child was getting out of hand.

“It’s so sad for her, having no parents,” said Aunt Sophie.

“Dear Aunt Sophie, you have done everything for her. She has not learned to be grateful. She must realize that she is not the only person in the world.”

Jeanne came in and said that Tamarisk had gone to Miss Allen who was going to take her for a ride.

When we came out of the house we saw Tamarisk coming out of the stables with one of the grooms. She was on a leading rein and they were making for the paddock. She looked at us serenely, but I thought I saw a certain look of triumph in her eyes.

It was a beautiful night. There was a full moon which threw a romantic glow over the gardens and so after the buffet supper, which had been served in the hall, the guests strolled out to take the air. Through the open windows came the strains of music which was being played in the gallery for those who wished to dance.

I was with Edward who was very anxious to find a secluded spot as he wished to talk to me. I guessed of what he wanted to speak.

We sat on the wooden seat and he was silent for a few moments, then he said: “What a lovely evening!”

“Just what we hoped and prayed for,” I replied.

“Jessica, I have wanted to talk to you for so long. I’ve been afraid to.”

“You … afraid! I thought you were never afraid of anything.”

He laughed. “I am … now. I am afraid that you will say No. I want to marry you.”

I was silent, and he went on: “I fancied you knew. After all, it seems obvious to everyone else.”

“I do know but… well, I haven’t really thought about marriage. I don’t believe I want to … just yet.”

“You are eighteen now.”

“I know that many girls are married at that age, but somehow … I don’t feel ready.”

“We could become engaged.”

“That seems too … definite.”

“My parents would be delighted.”

“Mine would too. It seems that everyone would be. It is just that I am … well, uncertain. I am fond of you, Edward. It’s been great fun since you came to Grasslands. We’re all delighted to have you for neighbours.” I thought then of our first meeting and when I did so there was one other figure who loomed large in my thoughts. But for Romany Jake I should never have known Edward. Then came the thought of what I should feel if instead of Edward sitting beside me on this moonlight night it was that other … he whom I had never been able to banish from my thoughts though it was so long since I had seen him. Something suggested to me that he might be at the root of my indecision. I dismissed that thought immediately as ridiculous. Then I thought of Leah … for whose sake he had been sent away. I thought of her large luminous eyes probing my mind. A choice, she had said. There were two paths. One would lead me to serenity, the other to danger. Surely this must be one of the choices and surely this life with Edward would lead me to peace. How could it be otherwise with a man like Edward? He was distinguished, of good family, comparatively wealthy, considerate and kind. He was all that my parents asked for in a son-in-law. But it should not be parents who made the choice.

As I sat there on that beautiful night with the scent of the flowers all about me and the strains of sweet musk coming from the house, I felt it would be so simple to say Yes. Why should I think of a gypsy with the boldest eyes I had ever seen, a man who had danced round the bonfire with poor Dolly and got her with child … it was quite ridiculous. I was foolish to hold back. But I seemed to see him there in the light of the bonfire looking at me, his eyes bold, wanting me to come down from my father’s carriage and dance with him as he had danced with Dolly. What nonsense! He was a gypsy; he had killed a man; he was on the other side of the world and it was hardly likely that he would ever come back.

Edward was saying bleakly: “You are unsure, aren’t you? Well, you have only just reached the great age of eighteen. There is time…”

“Yes,” I said eagerly, “I must have time. Let me get used to the idea … Let me think about it. Will you?”

“I have no alternative, I’m afraid,” he said with a sigh. “I can scarcely sling you across my saddle and ride off with you, can I?”

“Hardly. There would be nowhere to ride to.”

“I might find somewhere. Alas, there will be no announcement tonight.”

“That was what they wanted, was it?”

“My mother thought there might be.”

“Oh dear, I feel I have let everyone down.”

“I understand. But I’m going to make you change your mind soon.”

“I’m glad. I hope you do. I’m afraid I’m being a little silly … a little young…”

“No, wise perhaps. One has to know one’s own mind about these matters.”

“Oh, Edward, I do love you. You’re so understanding. It’s just that marriage is such a big step. It’s for life and I don’t feel I’ve experienced enough of that to commit myself… for life.”