“My dear, dear one, you are not being reasonable.”

“I have been so wicked.”

“No, no. You have behaved naturally. You must not feel this guilt.”

“Not feel guilty when I am guilty? Oh, how could you!”

“I did not force you, did I? You wanted to make love with me as much as I did with you.”

“If you had not come here. If you—”

“If you were not you and I were not myself, yes, things would have been so different. Listen to me, Claudine. You are married to David. He is a good man. He would be bitterly hurt if he knew that you and I were in love with each other.”

“I tell you, I love him.”

“Yes… but differently, eh? You love us both. Well, we are twins, are we not? There must be a closeness between us. We started life together right from the beginning. We were together before we were born. There must be a bond between us. You love us both and because we are twins it is almost as though you love the same man.”

“This doesn’t help at all.” I put my hands to my burning cheeks and started to pile up my hair. I was trembling, I could not bear to look into the future.

“Oh, why did you do this?” I cried. “Why did you send that message to Molly Blackett?”

“It had to be. I was seeking an opportunity. This seemed a good one.”

“I don’t think you have any scruples.”

“Oh yes I have. But I accept the inevitable. This had to be.”

“It must never happen again.”

He stood beside me and kissed me gently. “It is our secret,” he said. “No one need ever know.”

“I must tell David.”

“If you do you will ruin his happiness.”

“What a pity you did not think of that before!”

“Before, I could think of only one thing. Listen to me, Claudine. This has happened. It had to happen at some time. Perhaps it will happen again.”

“Never,” I cried vehemently. “It must never.”

“Nobody knows we are here together. It can be our secret. Look at it like this: I had to do what I did. It obsessed me. It was such a desperate need that I had no feelings for anything else, and when you were there, close to me, Claudine, it was the same with you. It is a powerful attraction between us. You can do no good by confessions. Your secret guilt hurts only you.”

“Perhaps you are right,” I said slowly. “I want to get away from this house. I know it is an evil house. It does something to people. It makes them different from what they really are.”

“Perhaps it shows them what they really are.”

I wanted to get away. I wanted to think about this. I could not bear to stay there a moment longer.

I felt for the key of the house in the pocket of my dress. I was thankful it was still there for I feared it might have dropped out. There were certain cracks in the floorboards and it could have fallen down one of those. But there it was, safe, and the very feel of it brought me back to reality.

I ran down the stairs. Jonathan was right behind me.

Into the hall, across the stone floor, our footsteps echoing through the house, I turned to look at the minstrels’ gallery and it seemed to me that there was a smug satisfaction about the house.

We came out and I locked the door.

I was dazed by my experience; and I felt as though I were still living in that world of wonderment to which he had introduced me. We walked across the fields to Eversleigh.

The house was quiet and I was glad I did not meet anyone on my way to my room. There I looked at myself in the mirror and it seemed that a stranger looked back at me.

This was not the same woman who had left that afternoon for the appointment with Molly Blackett. Of course it wasn’t! I should never be the same again. I had broken one of the commandments: Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery. And I had done this so easily… yet unintentionally—so carried away by the impulse of the moment. I had feared it, of course, but I had never truly thought it would happen. I had not realized that potent sexuality, that overwhelming power which silenced all qualms, which knew no conscience while one was in its thrall. I would never have believed this could happen to me.

I knew the story of my grandmother Zipporah, who had met a man in that very house and had behaved as I had today. She had been a quiet, virtuous woman, different from me, really, because I had always known that Jonathan could arouse desires in me which I must not give way to. What was that brooding evil at Enderby which had such an effect on the women of my family?

I was trying to shift the blame. I was trying to accuse the house of being responsible for my own misconduct.

How had it happened, so quickly, so easily? He had not forced me, he had said rather triumphantly. It was true. I had abandoned myself, willingly. I wished I could stop thinking of him. But I loved him, if loving was feeling more alive with some one person more than with anyone else, wanting to be with that person, to be close, to share intimacy, to be together every hour of the day and night.

Had I not felt that with David? David was interesting. He was kind and tender. It was a quiet relationship which had contented me until this afternoon. Love-making with David was quite pleasurable—as was everything else. But never had I experienced that wild excitement, that complete abandonment which I had known this afternoon.

Guilt weighed me down. If only I could go back to early afternoon. I should have waited outside the house. I should never have allowed it to wrap its tentacles around me. There I was, blaming the house again. There was no one to blame but myself… and Jonathan. And he had not forced me. I kept stressing that.

He was right. What good could confession do? If I were wise I should dismiss the incident from my mind. I should try to behave as though it had never happened. Perhaps in time I could forget it ever had. Forget it? That most shattering experience? Already I was thinking of being there, and seeing him there with me.

I must not tell David. It must be my secret… and Jonathan’s. He was right. It must remain so.

Perhaps his conscience would trouble him, as mine did me. Perhaps he would go to London, stay there, visit Eversleigh only occasionally.

Perhaps the manager would decide to leave, and then David and I could have his house.

I knew what I was telling myself were improbabilities. Jonathan would not stay in London; the manager would not go. Moreover, I wondered whether Jonathan would seek to trap me again. The very thought excited me. God help me, I wanted to be trapped. That was the frightening part of it. I revelled in my sin.

In the meantime I had to live through the next hours. I had to behave normally with my guilt clinging to me. Surely it was obvious.

I took down my hair which I had hastily pinned up. I undressed and got into bed. I would have a headache today. I could not go down to dine for I could not face anyone.

David was full of concern when he came in.

I said: “I have such a headache. I thought I’d go to bed. It’s better when I’m lying down.”

He bent over me and kissed me tenderly. Was there anything I needed? Should he have a tray sent up?

I told him no. I would rather sleep.

So I lay in my bed and when David came up I pretended to be asleep.

I almost burst into tears when he kissed me lightly because he feared to wake me.

I lay still, and I could not stop myself thinking of Jonathan, and of those magical moments in the haunted room.

My mother, with Dickon, Sophie and Jeanne, came home the next day. They were excited by their purchases. I had not seen Jonathan since our encounter and I needed all my cunning to act as though everything were normal.

Sophie was delighted with the materials she had bought and admitted it was a good idea to have gone to London.

“Did Molly get those measurements?” she asked.

I replied that she hadn’t done so yet as I had been unable to meet her when I intended to.

“Well, there’s no hurry,” said my mother, “and Jeanne can supervise her.”

At dinner that night everyone was there, even Sabrina, who appeared on special occasions, which was when anyone who had been away returned; and particularly if it happened to be Dickon.

Jonathan seemed exactly the same. I could not meet his eyes but I was aware of him all the time.

The sale of Enderby was now completed and Sophie could begin doing any repairs to the house and furniture she wanted to.

“I’ll get Tom Ellin to come over and see you,” said Dickon. “He’s an excellent carpenter.”

“We shall see wonders at Enderby,” said my mother. “What an exciting project!”

“I think,” put in Jonathan, looking at me, blue flames in his eyes, “that we are getting rather fond of that old house.”

“David always said that cutting down some of the shrubs and trees would make all the difference,” I commented deliberately, not meeting Jonathan’s gaze.

“I shall not do too much cutting back,” said Sophie. “What I like about Enderby is that feeling of seclusion.”

Then my mother started to talk about Christmas.

“All this excitement has made me forget how close it is.”

“I suppose it will be the usual entertaining?” I asked.

“It is the old tradition, isn’t it, Mother?” said Dickon.

Sabrina smiled fondly at him, and he put his hand over hers and pressed it. He was always gentle and tender with her. I supposed such absolute adoration could not fail to bring a response.

“Carol singers and the punch bowl,” went on my mother, “the wassailing, and of course the usual festivities of the day. I don’t want too many this year. Just a few house guests. I think the Farringdons will have to stay a night or two. The Manor is not far off, but if the weather is bad…”