“They’ve gone riding. I think she is going to take to him.”

“Well, he’s a likeable fellow. I wonder if he will want to take her away from us.”

“That will be for him and her to decide.”

“She might like the idea of that place in Cornwall.”

“There is one person you have forgotten. Jonathan. She has quite a passion for him.”

“Oh yes. It would take a great deal to get her to leave him.”

“I wouldn’t be sorry to see her go to Cornwall.”

“She is something of a liability.”

“I wasn’t thinking of that. She is old for her years and I am a little perturbed about this obsession with Jonathan. Jonathan himself has quite a reputation.”

“I am sure Jonathan would never misbehave at home.”

“I hope not. I fear that violent passion of hers might tempt him.”

“No, no. It is true he has been rather free with the girls. Tamarisk is different. Whatever his inclinations he would curb them where she is concerned.”

“The feeling might come over him. After all she is there, his willing slave. She is old for her years … precocious … growing up fast.”

Edward shook his head. “Jonathan would show restraint, I am sure. He is a decent fellow at heart.”

Oh Edward, I thought, you believe the best of everyone. What would you say if you knew your wife had thrown restraint to the winds in a house in Blore Street, that she has betrayed you not once but several times with this man who is now a guest in your house?

There was an innocence about Edward. He was like Amaryllis in a way. He believed in the goodness of people. Such as they were aroused a protective instinct. I never wanted Edward to know the truth about me. I vowed that he never should. I remembered fleetingly the occasion when Peter had come across us arm in arm in Blore Street. Peter might not be very observant, having other matters on his mind, but everyone might not be the same.

There was only one way to ensure Edward’s never finding out that he had an unfaithful wife. So far we had been undetected. We must never let there be a chance of our betraying our guilty secret.

I remembered what a big part Leah had played in our story. She had come into our household and now seemed like one of the ordinary servants. She was an excellent nurse for Tamarisk and I often wondered what I should have done without her. She was quiet, they said below stairs, and kept herself to herself. She was not interested in the young men although many would be ready to take notice of her with a little encouragement. It was whispered that she was afraid of them because of an “experience” she had once had.

We knew what that experience was for it had nearly cost her saviour his life and he had paid for his part in the affair with seven years in a penal settlement.

And now she would come face to face with him.

She was there when they returned from their ride. I had prepared her for I thought that was wise. She had turned very pale and then flushed.

She said: “It was a long time ago.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“I never forgot what he did for me.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

And there they were. He was rather flushed from the ride; his eyes were alight with pleasure. I think he was rather intrigued by his daughter. Tamarisk looked like a handsome boy in her riding clothes; she was a daughter of whom he could be proud.

“We had a lovely ride, Leah,” said Tamarisk. “We raced. He beat me … but only just.”

“Leah,” he said. “Little Leah.”

He went to her and took both her hands. She lifted her eyes to his and I saw the adoration there. It moved me deeply.

“So you are looking after my daughter?”

She nodded. There were tears in her eyes. She said: “I have thought of you.”

“I’ve thought of you too, Leah,” he answered gently.

“What you did for me …”

“It was long … long ago.”

“And they blamed you. They were going to hang you…”

“But here I am … hale and hearty.”

“You’re gentry now,” she said. “You were never one of us.”

“It wasn’t for lack of trying.”

I thought I ought to go and leave them together. I felt as though I were prying on Leah’s emotion.

“Come, Tamarisk,” I said. Strangely enough she obeyed me.

She ran off to see that her horse was all right. I went into the garden … out to the shrubbery. I felt I wanted to get away from the scene of reunion.

I wondered if Leah loved him. She had made a hero of him, that much I knew. She had lured his child away from her home because she must have wanted something which was part of him. She loved Tamarisk devotedly.

And what were his feelings for Leah? He had spoken to her very tenderly. He had cared for the innocent young girl in the days when he had first gone to the gypsies. He had been overcome with fury when he had come upon that brute intent on rape. He had lashed out in that fury and it had nearly cost him his life.

How would he feel about Leah now? I was aware of the stirrings of jealousy.

He was susceptible to women, I was sure. I remembered Dolly dancing round the bonfire. Dolly had loved him, and how had he felt about her? He pitied her, I think, but there must have been some desire; and he had lightheartedly given way to it. How lighthearted had he been such a little while ago in a house in Blore Street?

And Leah? When she had been a gypsy girl and he had come among them, had she thought it possible that one day there might have been a match between them? It could have happened. Now, of course, everything was different with him. He was a country gentleman and Leah could have no place in his life. Or could she?

And in any case, what part could I have? Nothing but a secret one.

He must have seen me go into the shrubbery for he found me there.

“At last,” he said, “we are alone.”

I had sat down on the wooden seat there and he was beside me, very close. I was deeply stirred as I always was by his proximity.

I said: “Poor Leah was deeply moved.”

“Yes, she was. It brought it all back to her. When I saw her again I was glad I killed that devil. She was such a gentle girl.”

“She still is and she has been wonderful with Tamarisk. If Tamarisk went to live with you in Cornwall Leah would have to go with her.”

“Tamarisk won’t leave you. I’m a newcomer. She’s not sure of me yet. Jessica, couldn’t we be alone … somewhere … together …”

“Here?” I cried. “In this house? Oh, no … no.”

“It is hard for me to see you here… so near and yet so remote.”

“That is how it has to be.”

“You’ll come to London?”

“Yes … no …”

He smiled at me teasingly. “You’ll come. You must, Jessica, we’ll work out something. We can’t just go on like this.”

“I cannot see any other way of going on.”

“There are ways. There are always ways …”

“You mean secret meetings. Clandestine … furtive meetings …”

“We must take what we can.”

“It should never have gone so far.”

“It was inevitable.”

“Tell me about Leah.”

“What of her?”

“How was she … coming face to face with you like that?”

“Deeply moved, I think.”

“I think she loves you.”

“She is grateful to me.”

“And you?”

“I am fond of her.”

“Do you love her? She is a beautiful girl.”

“She is. But I love one only … now and for ever.”

For a moment I lay against him and then I remembered that I was near the house and that at any moment someone might come out. I stood up and he was beside me, his arms round me. He kissed me tenderly and then with passion.

“Not here …” I said, which was an admission that it could be somewhere else.

“When will you come to London?”

“As soon as it is possible,” I said.

“Perhaps you could bring Tamarisk. She ought to be with her father.”

“She is very sharp. What if she saw …”

“We’d be careful.”

I said: “It must stop.”

I withdrew myself and came out of the shrubbery with him beside me. He was holding my arm tightly.

I looked towards the house and wondered if anyone was watching.

Jake’s visit was declared to have been a great success.

“I like him,” said my father. “He’s lively.”

My mother liked him too, but she was a little reserved when speaking of him and I wondered if she guessed that my feelings for him went deeper than was wise.

He had suggested that Tamarisk visit him in London. There was so much there that he wanted to show her. Then he thought it would be a good idea if she went to Cornwall.

She must remember that he was her father and that his home could be hers if she wished, I told her.

She said: “I like it here.” And she was looking at Jonathan who happened to be there.

The great concern now was Amaryllis. Her time was getting near and Claudine was fussing, as Dickon said, like an old hen.

“Amaryllis is a healthy girl, and women were meant to have children. Why all this fuss?”

“There speaks the arrogant man,” said my mother. “Naturally Claudine is fussing. All mothers do. I’m fussing and we shall continue to fuss until we have the baby. As for you, I remember you fussed a little when Jessica was born.”

“I must have known that she would not be content to make a quiet and ordinary appearance.”

“Well, you were wrong. She did. Jessica, you were such an adorable baby … right from the first.”

“A squalling brat as far as I remember,” said my father.

“Whom you adored from the moment she was born.”