Philippa Carr - Voices in a Haunted Room

“You mean that I know for sure that Billy Grafter is a spy.”

He nodded. “You see, I have brought you into this.”

“No. I brought myself into it when I recognized Alberic in the coffee house. That was none of your doing.”

“You’ll have to be careful, Claudine. I think they’ll move Billy Grafter out of London. They know now that we are aware that he is here. He runs the risk of coming face to face with me or my father. He will be transferred to do his evil work elsewhere.”

“Which is inciting the people to riot.”

Jonathan nodded. “The same method which was used so successfully in France.”

“They shot at the King…”

“One of their fraternity most surely. If that had succeeded it would have been a start. I worry about you.”

“Oh, Jonathan, I shall be all right. I can look after myself. I don’t know much of all these things—but at least I now know a little.”

He came to me and took my hands in his.

“You are very precious to me,” he said.

“Oh, please, Jonathan… don’t,” I said tremulously.

He was silent for a while—more serious than I had ever known him to be. He had been greatly shaken, not only by the incident and its failure for him; and I knew in that moment that he really was deeply concerned for me.

The wine was warming me. I gazed into the blue flames which spurted out of the logs. I could see all sorts of pictures in the fire—castles, fiery red faces… figures, and I thought: I wish this could go on.

But that was how I always felt when I was with him.

It must have been about an hour that we sat there before Meg Borrows came in to say that our things were dry enough to put on now and would we like some more mulled wine?

I said: “We must be going. They’ll be missing us.”

“I’ll have your things taken up to the rooms,” said the obliging Meg, “and you can go up when you like.”

Jonathan looked at me. “Let us have a little more of your excellent wine,” he said.

Meg looked delighted and went off to get it.

“We should go back,” I said.

“Just a little longer.”

“We ought…”

“My dear Claudine, as usual you are concerned with what you ought instead of what you want.”

“They’ll be wondering what has become of us.”

“They can wonder for a little longer surely.”

Meg brought in the wine, poured it out and carried it to us.

Jonathan watched me as he drank.

“In the years to come,” he said, “I shall remember this moment. You and I in our ill-fitting robes, damp from the river, alone, drinking in paradise. This stuff tastes like nectar to me and I feel like Jove.”

“I do believe your tastes run in similar directions.”

“You find me godlike?”

“I believe he was constantly chasing women.”

“In various shapes when doing so… swans… bulls… what a gift!”

“Presumably he felt he was not attractive enough to be as he really was.”

“I can see I do not need such a gift. I believe I am irresistible just as I am.”

“Are you?”

“Almost,” he replied. “I have no rivals except dull Duty, who is a formidable one, I agree, where a certain would-be virtuous lady is concerned.”

“I wish you would be serious.”

“I have to be…. most of the time. Let me dally for a while. At this moment I should be on my way back to the house. I should be changing into presentable garments. I am sure those we are wearing are ruined. I have work to do. You don’t realize, Claudine, how desperately I long to be with you, for when I am, I forget that I should be hot on the trail of our enemies. You are the seductress.”

“No,” I said, “it is you who are the seducer.”

“Claudine, listen to me. Just one thing before we go. Here we are in our natural state, you might say. Will you answer me one question truthfully?”

I nodded.

“Do you love me?”

I hesitated before I said: “I don’t know.”

“You like to be with me?”

“You know I do.”

“It is more exciting than anything else?”

I was silent.

He said as though to himself: “Construe silence as an affirmative.” Then he went on: “Do you ever think of those hours we spent together?”

“I try to forget.”

“Knowing in your heart that wrong as you might have thought them, you would not have missed them.”

“I’ve had enough of this catechism.”

“You have answered all my questions. Claudine, what are we going to do? Are we going on like this all our lives… seeing each other fairly frequently, finding that this love between us is growing, that it is never going to fade? Do you really believe that all our lives we are going on denying ourselves…”

I stood up. “I shall go and put on my dry things now. We must go back.”

I ran out of the parlour and up to the room. I was trembling as I put on my clothes. They were stained with mud and smelt none too savoury, but at least they were dry. My hair was still damp about my shoulders.

I went downstairs. Jonathan was dressed and waiting for me. Jimmy Borrows had offered his gig to take us back to Albemarle Street. We should look rather odd arriving at the house in that, but it was quicker than trying to find some other conveyance.

As we came into the house, Millicent appeared. She stared at us.

“Hello, my love,” said Jonathan. “You are astounded by the spectacle, are you not?”

“Whatever happened?”

“A spill on the river.”

“Did you go on a boat then?”

“We were not walking on the water.”

“What on earth were you doing?”

“Rowing… and some idiot ran into us.”

“I thought you were going out on business.”

“It was business, and we took a boat. Well, here we are and I want to get into some clean clothes. I have to go out immediately.”

I went up to my room and changed everything. I was sitting at my dressing table combing my hair when there was a knock on my door and Millicent came in. Her eyes were wide and suspicious, I thought.

She said: “It must have been quite a shock.”

“It was.”

“You might have been drowned.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. There were lots of boats on the river.”

“I did not know that you had gone out with Jonathan.”

“It was decided right at the last minute. I was here and he thought I might like to go out… and as David wasn’t here and you were resting…”

She nodded. “Your clothes will be ruined,” she said.

“I daresay.”

She shrugged her shoulders and went out.

I felt very uneasy. She is aware of something, I thought, and she is suspicious.

Jonathan went out and was away all that day. When David came back I told him of our adventure.

“I thought you weren’t going out today, as you had so much to do in the house,” he said.

“I meant to get ready for our departure, but as it was a special sort of day… Guy Fawkes and all that… I thought it would be silly not to see something of the fun, and as Jonathan was going out he said he would take me along with him.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“The guys and everything, yes. The ducking, well, that was less pleasant.”

“I should have thought Jonathan could have managed a boat better than that.”

“Oh, it was an idiot in another boat. He went straight into us.”

“Well, you are none the worse, I hope.”

“No. Fortunately, the inn was close by and we were able to dry off there. The host and hostess were very helpful. We are going home tomorrow, aren’t we?”

“I think we could. You’re missing Amaryllis.”

I admitted that I was.

“I too,” he said.

I thought how much easier he was to deceive than Millicent.

I was very much aware of her. She seemed to be watching me. Night came and from the windows I looked out on the night sky which was red from the light of the bonfires which were burning all over London.

“It looks,” I said to David, “as though London is on fire.”

THE NEXT DAY WE WENT back to Eversleigh—all except Jonathan, who said he had business to keep him in London. Millicent came with us. Jonathan would be away for the greater part of the days and she did not wish to be alone; and in any case, Jonathan said he would be back at Eversleigh in less than a week, so it was a good idea that Millicent should travel with us.

All was well at home. My mother was delighted by our return, particularly as Dickon was on one of his rare visits to Clavering. She had not gone with him because she did not want to leave Jessica, who had a slight cold. Amaryllis was more beautiful than ever and as she was now very much aware of what was going on and expressed a certain delight in seeing me, I was very happy.

The days passed in pleasant domesticity; on the third day I accompanied David on the rounds of the estate. As usual we were taken into the kitchens when we visited the farms, and the farmers’ wives always insisted on our tasting their homemade wines.

We were at the Penns’ farm that day with Jenny Penn, a big buxom woman, who took a great delight in her kitchen and all that she produced in it. But there was one thing she liked better than her food and that was a gossip.

David used to say that we could catch up on what was happening on the estate from Jenny for she knew everything that was going on, not only on the land her husband farmed but all the others too.

“Now what do you think of this brew, sir?” she said to David. “And you, Mrs. Frenshaw. I’ve got a feeling that it is better than the last. A bit too sweet that. I always say to my Len, ‘Wine wants a bit of a tang to it!’ That’s what I say. Too much sweetness can kill a wine.”