I put my hand over his. “Poor Edward,” I said. “It is hard to forget it.”

He pressed my hand. I think Peter saw the gesture and I thought with a little touch of excitement: He will be jealous.

I was young. I was frivolous. I was vain; and I could not help being excited because two men were in love with me. I liked Edward so much and I was very sorry for him. If Peter asked me to marry him … when Peter asked me to marry him… what should I say? I could not shilly-shally for ever. The circumstances of our meeting had been so unusual, so romantic. Of course I was going to marry Peter. I was not sure whether I was in love with him. I was very much a novice when it came to falling in love. I felt this was not quite how I ought to feel. But I must be in love with Peter.

My father was talking across the table to Lord Pettigrew who was seated opposite him. I heard my name mentioned and realized they were talking about the adventure and how Peter had rescued me.

Peter was alert, listening.

“I am still making enquiries,” my father was saying. “I don’t intend to let the matter drop. I am going to sift it out.”

“Difficult to trace … The place is empty, you say.”

“The Delarge woman is said to own the place. I don’t believe that. I wonder if there is someone behind her. I’m keeping my eyes open.”

Conversation buzzed round us and continued in a light vein until the meal was over and the hall cleared for dancing.

Peter was a good dancer. He danced with me and then with Amaryllis. That left me free for Edward, who danced rather laboriously—correctly but without inspiration.

“You ought to come for a visit to Nottingham,” he said. “Your mother told me she would like to. She and my mother get on so well together.”

“Yes, it would be interesting,” I said.

“It is a very pleasant house really, lacking the antiquity of this one, of course. But it’s a good family house … some way from the town and we are surrounded by green fields.”

“Perhaps we can come in the spring,” I said. “Edward, I do hope your troubles will be over by then.”

“They must be. They can’t go on. The law will be more stringent and then we shall see changes.”

“Your parents are worried.”

“Yes, about me … in the thick of it.”

“Oh Edward … take care.”

He pressed my hand. “Do you really care?”

“What a stupid question! Of course I do. I care about your whole family … your mother, father, you and Clare. Clare is very worried about you, I believe.”

“Oh yes, she is one of the family.”

I thought how pleased I should be if he and Clare married. I would cease to have a conscience about him then.

“You haven’t made up your mind … ?”

I wanted to say: Yes, I have. I think I shall marry Peter Lansdon, but how could I say that when he hadn’t asked me? All I was aware of was that being with him was exciting, exhilarating, and the manner of our first meeting had seemed so unusual, so adventurous that it was significant.

I said hesitantly: “N-no, Edward. Not yet.”

He sighed and I was very worried because I was going to hurt him. It seemed so sad in view of all his business problems.

I wished I could have made him happier. If I promised to marry him he would have forgotten his business troubles for a while at any rate. And how pleased his parents and mine would have been! At the same time I felt a little irritated with him. It is a sad commentary on human nature that when one could help and doesn’t one begins to dislike the person who arouses one’s pity … largely because one hates feeling uncomfortable, I suppose.

I was glad to escape from Edward.

And there was Peter who, having danced with Amaryllis, was now coming towards me. His step was light. He took charge of the dance. I went where I was led and it was like dancing on air.

He said. “What a happy day it was when I stopped at the Green Man. Do you know I almost went to the Cat and Fiddle. Suppose I had? I should not have been in the street… I should never have noticed the girl pretending to be blind … never have rescued you … never have been here tonight dancing with you.”

“And where should I be?”

“Don’t think of that. I was just marvelling at the good fortune which has brought me here. Your father still thinks of it. I heard him talking to Lord Pettigrew.”

“He won’t let it rest. He has many concerns in London. If it is possible to find out who those people were … he will.”

“They are probably out of the country now.”

“Do you think so?”

“In that sort of criminal underworld you never know what is going on.”

“My father is the sort of man who would never let any detail escape him. He doesn’t go so much to London now that he is getting older, though. But he was in all sorts of things earlier … and so was his son, Jonathan. We hear whispers of it in the family. I think perhaps Jonathan would be more suited to that sort of work than running an estate … just like his father was. Some people have the temperament… others haven’t. Amaryllis has quite a gift. She goes round the estate with her father. She has a gentle personality and the people like her. I have heard David say that you have to establish a relationship with the people on the estate. It is not merely a matter of keeping down rents and repairing homes. It’s a sort of comradeship as well. Amaryllis has that gift, her father says. Her parents think she is quite perfect. Mind you, they are not far wrong. In our family there are the good and docile ones and the wild rebellious ones. Amaryllis and I are good examples of both types.”

“I think you are both enchanting.”

“But different.”

“Well, of course.”

“You dance well. Where did you learn?”

“I was sent to school in England and then I had a year in the North with some cousins where I was supposed to learn how to live in graceful society.”

“That was before you went out to help your father in Jamaica?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, they certainly taught you well.”

“Dancing or the social conduct required in English society?”

“Both.”

“It is amazing to remember that we have known each other such a short time.”

“Yes, but we have seen each other frequently since our first meeting.”

“I’m grateful to Enderby.”

“How are you liking it in that great barn of a house?”

“I like very much what is close to it.”

“How long shall you stay?”

“It depends.”

“You mean on what you find here? Have you discovered anything that might be suitable?”

“To tell the truth I’ve hardly had time to look—what with the Christmas festivities and the kind hospitality of my good neighbours. I like Enderby.”

“Do you? It’s amazing how people become fascinated by it. There was my Aunt Sophie. She saw it and immediately wanted it.”

“It is a family house really.”

“Of course. Far too big for one.”

“It would change completely … with many children.”

“You are right. We should look for a married couple with a considerable brood.”

“The marriage need not be of long duration. The house could wait for the patter of little feet.”

I laughed. This was exciting. I thought he was going to ask me then. And what should I say? Could I say, It is too soon. I am not yet sure …

The dance was over and the servants were bringing round cooling drinks.

We sat for a while and then he said: “Excuse me. I am engaged to your niece for this one.”

I watched him dancing with Amaryllis. She was laughing and talking quite animatedly. I was glad that she liked him too.

Edward came and sat beside me.

Peter was a gracious host at Enderby on Boxing Day. Amaryllis and I congratulated ourselves on the decorations which we had helped to put up; and I must say the old house seemed to have lost entirely that dour ghostliness which had been such a feature of it in the past.

Peter had devised a very clever treasure hunt through the house and this provided a great deal of merriment for he had wittily phrased the clues which led from one spot to another. It was rather uncanny to hear the old house echoing with laughter.

There was a good deal in what David always said, and Peter had seconded it, that with people in the house Enderby would be just like any other.

“I never thought we should have a jolly time in this house,” said my mother.

“You’ve laid the ghost,” my father told Peter.

It was two days later when Peter had been riding with Amaryllis and me and on the way home came into Eversleigh for a glass of wine before going on to Enderby.

We were in the hall. My parents were with us and so were Claudine and David—when one of the servants came in and said that Farmer Weston wanted to see my father—and added that Farmer Weston seemed rather upset.

“Bring him in,” said my father, and Farmer Weston came into the hall. He certainly looked agitated.

“I want to have a word with you in private, sir,” he said.

“You can say what you have to say here. Anything wrong at the farm?”

“No sir … not exactly. It’s my Lizzie and … another. I’d rather talk in private.”

“Come on in here then.” My father led him into the room we called the winter parlour.

They were there for about ten minutes before they came out—Farmer Weston was very red in the face and my father looked quite angry, not with Farmer Weston though for he said to him quite gently: “Don’t worry. I’ll speak to him. Perhaps no harm’s done. Young people …”

He went out with Farmer Weston and soon afterwards joined us. My mother looked at him interrogatively.