“I understand perfectly,” said my mother. “I feel the same. I went to France when I was about twelve or thirteen. My first husband was French. But I always regarded England as my home.”

Peter Lansdon was looking at me.

“No, no,” said my mother. “This is Jessica’s father. By my first marriage I have a daughter, Claudine, who is married to my husband’s son. I also have a son who is in France.”

“I see.”

“A complicated relationship,” she added.

“But you understand how I felt about coming home.”

“Perfectly. One day you must meet my other daughter—Jessica’s half sister.”

“That would be a great pleasure. In what part of the country is your estate, if I may ask?”

“The south east. We are only a few miles from the sea. Our nearest big town is Dover.”

“Oh, that part of the country? Is it fertile?”

“Yes. Our bane is the south east wind. That can be pretty fierce. But as you know in the south of England we enjoy a fairly temperate climate. Farming is good. It’s quite a reasonable spot.”

“I shall have to explore.”

“I wonder …” began my mother; and I knew she was thinking about Enderby.

“Yes?” asked Peter Lansdon.

“There is a house which could be rented. It’s quite close to us. It belongs to someone connected with the family and we are looking after it.”

“Really?”

“It would be a good place to look round from, wouldn’t it, Dickon?”

“I don’t know of any estates up for sale in the area,” said my father.

“What about the house itself?” asked Peter Lansdon eagerly.

“There isn’t a lot of land attached to it.”

“Could one acquire land?”

“It might be possible. Our estate covers most of the area round there, and there is another house, Grasslands. There are two farms attached to that.”

“It seems promising. What is the name of this house?”

“Enderby,” I said.

He smiled. “I wonder …” he said.

After the meal we went into the drawing room and Peter Lansdon talked to my father about Jamaica and the exporting of sugar and rum. My father was always interested in business projects and I think found Peter Lansdon’s company entertaining. My mother had taken a great liking to him—largely I think because he had rescued me.

As for myself I was certainly intrigued. He had a special way of looking at me which told me that he admired me, and I guessed that the reason why he had been so interested was on my account.

He left us at ten thirty to go back to his hotel. My mother came up to my room and sat talking for a while.

“What an interesting young man! I am so glad he came to dinner.”

“He seemed delighted to come.”

“I daresay he hasn’t many friends … coming so recently from Jamaica. My dear child, I thank God for that young man. When I think …”

“Oh, please, Mother, don’t go over it all again! I was foolish. I was gullible. But I have learned my lesson.”

“As long as you have …”

“Well, of course I have. It is experiences like that which make us wise. I’ll never be caught like that again.”

“You have to have your eyes open in a city like London.”

“I know that now.”

“Well, we have made the acquaintance of this interesting young man and your father is so grateful to him. Wouldn’t it be amusing if he came to Enderby.”

“Amusing?”

“I mean interesting. It’s odd. But we met the Barringtons through a chance encounter and they came to Grasslands.”

“I don’t think he would want to live at Enderby. It’s not a very enticing house.”

“No, but other things might be … enticing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he was rather taken by you.”

“Mother! You are incurably romantic.”

“Well, you are young and very attractive.”

“In your maternal imagination perhaps.”

“I think he is very interesting. I hope we see more of him.”

I was thoughtful after she had gone. It had been a strange day. I went on reliving those terrifying moments in that room in Grant Street. It was very odd and I could believe I had dreamed the whole thing but for Peter Lansdon. I could not get the memory of him out of my mind.

It was small wonder that I found sleep evasive; and when I did sleep I dreamed of him vaguely.

And the first thing I thought when I awoke was: I wonder if I shall see him again.

How life had changed in our neighbourhood—and all within the space of a few years. One thing is altered and then another and another until it is an entirely different scene. It was not completely different because all remained more or less the same at Eversleigh. But Grasslands, where once the rather odd Mrs. Trent had lived with her grand-daughter, was now the home of the somewhat conventional Barringtons; and Aunt Sophie was dead and we had Peter Lansdon at Enderby.

My parents had not thought for one moment that he would take the house. I had secretly held different views. I was beginning to think that he had fallen in love with me at first sight; and I found that exceedingly gratifying and romantic. From the moment he had seen me in the Green Man, he had been interested. He had questioned our coachman; he had seen where I lived in Albemarle Street and by great good luck he had followed me on my adventure to Grant Street.

This last had made a very special bond between us—and indeed with the family, who could never be grateful enough to him.

So I was not altogether surprised when he decided he would take Enderby for three months while he, as he said, “spied out the land”; and I was almost certain that he had come there to be near me.

I enjoyed his society very much and we saw a good deal of each other. My mother took him under her wing and procured servants for him. She invited him to our house frequently and he was now on very friendly terms with the family. Even my father enjoyed talking to him. Amaryllis thought him very charming—one of the most pleasant men she had ever met, she commented.

The Barringtons were slightly less enthusiastic; but I think that was because they felt he might be a rival to Edward.

I had thought a great deal about Edward since the arrival of Peter Lansdon. In Peter’s company I felt stimulated; in Edward’s interested and cosy, but not in the least excited.

At this time Edward was having a great deal of anxiety at his factory and this made him preoccupied; moreover he was away for long periods at a time. His parents were very worried about him and so was Clare Carson. I think she was rather pleased by the advent of Peter Lansdon, which confirmed my suspicions that she was in love with Edward.

Life had become very interesting since Peter was the tenant of Enderby. I was extremely gratified that he had gone to such lengths to be near me and I supposed this endeared me to him. I was still waiting for that great excitement which I connected with being in love. I had believed in it so fervently long ago when I had watched Romany Jake dancing round a bonfire. I had to grow up, I reminded myself. I would have to marry soon. It was expected of me. I thought I was fortunate to have two suitors and was rather sorry for Amaryllis who had no one.

It would be Peter, of course. Our meeting had been so romantic. Poor Edward, he would be heartbroken. I was very sorry because I was fond of him and the last thing I wanted was to hurt him. Perhaps he would marry Clare. That would be a satisfactory conclusion for everyone.

Peter had been so enthusiastic from the first and determined to take Enderby. He had travelled back to Eversleigh with us on that first occasion and my mother invited him to stay with us for a day or so.

He had been fulsome in his praise of our home. “A perfect example of Elizabethan architecture,” he had called it; and he had wanted to know as much as he could about the family.

“It is what one misses when one makes one’s home abroad,” he said. “Oh, how I envy you!”

He studied the portraits in the gallery and asked questions about them. He rode round the estate with Amaryllis and me, and he was charmingly courteous to us both.

I was with my mother and Amaryllis when we took him to see Enderby. I wondered what he would think of it for it looked particularly gloomy as it did on winter days.

I studied him closely trying to see what his first impression was as we went into the hall—that gloomy old hall with the minstrels’ gallery and high vaulted roof.

“It has an atmosphere,” he said. “Not as grand as Eversleigh, but nevertheless splendid in its way.”

We went up the stairs, through the bedrooms.

“Rather a large house for one gentleman,” said my mother.

“It’s a family house,” he agreed.

“It’s a house that needs people,” said my mother. “My aunt, the last occupant, had just herself and her maid. Before that it stood empty for so long.”

“You are not afraid of ghosts, I hope,” said Amaryllis.

“I don’t think Mr. Lansdon is afraid of anything,” said my mother warmly.

“There might be something,” he admitted. “But ghosts certainly not.”

“It’s interesting to look at the old house,” said Amaryllis. “I must confess I never liked the place.”

“Are you trying to discourage me?” he asked.

“Oh no … no … It’s for you to say. I often think places have different effects on people. Some feel one thing, others another.”

“Do you really think there is a possibility of your taking this place?”

“It could not be better situated for my purposes.”

He smiled directly at me and Amaryllis.

I said: “You have decided to look round this area for a suitable place to buy then?”