Leigh thoughtfully did the same to Charlotte.

We laughed a great deal and then Edwin said: “If you hadn’t come back you couldn’t have brought the presents, could you?”

Leigh nodded solemnly.

Even though this did suggest that the presents might be more desirable than our company, we were amused and delighted with the sagacity of the children.

They were happy days—flying the kites, listening to the sound of the trumpets and escaping from clay pellets. We were so glad to be back. But all the time I was haunted by my memories of Harriet. I could not get her out of my mind.

I thought of Carleton who had obviously arranged our visit to the playhouse knowing she was there. There was undoubtedly a streak of mischief in him, but what disturbed me most was his undoubted interest in me and his reference to the fact that Edwin had come between him and his inheritance.

That he loved Eversleigh I had no doubt. Its concerns were of the utmost importance to him. He was very often there, and I noticed that the visits to London were becoming more rare.

It was towards the end of the summer when Carleton’s wife, Barbary, came to Eversleigh Court. Carleton treated her with an indifference which I found ungallant.

I realized during the day after her arrival that she was far from well. When I enquired of the servants—not having seen her throughout the day—I heard that she was in her bed, feeling too unwell to arise.

I went to see her.

She looked ill and I asked if there was anything she needed.

She shook her head. “I have come to the quiet of the country for a rest,” she said. “I do now and then … when I feel tired. I don’t think her ladyship likes it very much, but, after all, this is my husband’s home and I have a right to be here, don’t you think?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well that’s nice to hear since you are a kind of deputy châtelaine. Don’t you feel lonely living here?” She waved her hand disparagingly.

“I find it peaceful,” I said, “as you obviously do since you come for a rest. Do you often feel that need?”

She nodded. “Quiet … one day very like another, cows mooing, sheep bleating, and the birds are nice in the spring.”

“I had no idea you had a taste for such things.”

“You must know, Cousin Arabella, that things are not always what they seem.”

“That’s true. Shall I get something sent up to you?”

“Sally Nullens makes a good posset. I believe the children have it when they’re irritable.”

“I’ll ask her.”

I went down to Sally who was in the nursery sewing Leigh’s jacket where he had torn it.

Yes, she had the very thing. She had given it to Mistress Barbary before. “Poor Mistress Barbary,” she commented, “I don’t think she is a very happy woman.”

“I should think not … married to …”

“Well, it takes two to make a marriage work … or go wrong, I’ve always heard. They’re wrong, these arranged marriages. Young people should be left to themselves.”

“So theirs was arranged?”

“Yes, ten years ago. Master Carleton was pretending to be a Roundhead. Hers was one of the families who had always been on Cromwell’s side. I reckon he married her to show what a good Roundhead he was. He played the part well, considering. The marriage never worked. They went their own ways. Wild, both of them—she perhaps because she’d been brought up so strict, and he because that was his way. Now she comes here to be made well. My possets do her a world of good, she always says. But I think the rest has a lot to do with it. I think sometimes something comes over her and she would like things to be different.”

I took to going to see how she was and a kind of friendship grew up between us. That she was not averse to my visits was obvious and after a while she began to talk to me.

She normally visited Eversleigh, she told me, when Carleton was away. “We don’t like to meet, of course.”

“That seems strange since he is your husband.”

“He didn’t want the marriage. He only entered into it because he had to create a good impression at that time. People were suspicious of his motives. There was a danger of his being found out. Marriage with a family like ours gave him standing … if you know what I mean. My father was a dedicated Roundhead. Marriage into such a family was a guarantee for a man who might have aroused suspicions because he belonged to a family most of whom were in exile with the King.”

“I see … a marriage of convenience.”

“Exactly.”

“And you didn’t love each other at all?”

She was silent. Then she said: “You know a little of him.”

“Y … yes.”

“He is unique. I have never known anyone like him. There’s a strength about him … a power. He’s the sort of man who, when he makes up his mind that he wants something, won’t rest until it is his.”

“Is that so unique?”

“No. But he is a man who goes out to get it with more vigour than anyone I know. I was very young when we were married. Seventeen, in fact. Young, romantic, and heartily sick of the way of life in my parents’ house. If you smiled during the week, that was sin, and if you happened to on a Sunday you were set for hellfire.”

“I saw some of it when I came here.”

“Yes, but that was pretence, wasn’t it? You could escape from it. I had scarcely known anything else. And then to be with him. For three weeks he treated me like a wife. I believed he meant it. It was a new way of life—exciting, intriguing. It was all pretence on his part, of course. But he never had difficulty in convincing a woman that he was fond of her. He’s practised so long that it’s second nature to him. Then I found he was unfaithful. As a pious Roundhead he was living dangerously, but that was what he liked. I think as much as women he likes danger. I was young and angry.”

I said: “You were in love with him.”

“It was easy to fall in love with him. He had those strong good looks. He suggested power. He had all the tricks at his fingertips. He knew exactly how to treat me. When I remonstrated with him, the truth came out. He had married me because it was necessary. He liked me well enough but I must not expect his exclusive devotion. I should do what I wished and he would do what he wished. There was no reason why we should not go our separate ways. You can imagine how hurt I was … how angry. You’ve guessed I was in love with him. I was a romantic girl. I was ready to believe that I had made the perfect marriage. And now I was told we would go our own ways. I am impulsive. I am not a good character. I was so hurt and bewildered I went to bed that night with one of the grooms who had been watching me as much as he dared with a certain look in his eyes. Now you are shocked.”

“No. I think I understand.”

“You. With your dead husband to whom you remain faithful forever! You couldn’t begin to understand. I am no prude. I will not pretend. I like men … as Carleton likes women. He taught me to cast aside all scruples so I did. He knew, of course. I think it pleased him. He rather encouraged me in my affairs, although he was a little shocked by the groom. He took me to London and introduced me to people of what was considered a more worthy station of life to share my bed. I have had scores of lovers since. Why am I telling you this?”

“Tell me by all means if you find some relief in doing so.”

“Yes, I do find relief. I want to talk to you … you of all people. For several reasons. One because at the moment you have set up a shrine to your dead husband and are going to spend the rest of your days worshipping that shrine like a vestal virgin. Not quite a vestal though … since you are the mother of young Edwin. And this is what makes the situation what it is.” She laughed suddenly. “It won’t last, you know. You’ll break out one day and then … and then …”

I said: “I have decided that I have no wish to marry again, if that is what you mean.”

“Don’t be too sure. I know there are eyes watching you.” She lowered her voice and involuntarily I looked over my shoulder.

“Yes,” she said, “You are chosen for a destiny. I know it. Someone has his eyes on you … but there are obstacles … living obstacles.”

“You are talking in riddles.”

“Easy ones to solve. Do you know what Eversleigh means to Carleton?”

“A great deal I am sure.”

“A great deal! That’s putting it mildly. It means everything to him. Poor Carleton, he has been cheated twice. Once as a ten-year-old when his uncle, the present Lord, most inconsiderately sired a son—your own beloved husband. In a confiding mood Carleton once told me what that had meant to him. ‘I was only ten,’ he said: ‘but I can remember my baffled fury now. I had been brought up at this house. My uncle taught me everything. He was always saying … or if he didn’t say it he implied it: “One day this will be yours.” I learned about the estate. When I rode out it was as though trumpets sounded and voices were singing, “It’s yours. It’s yours.”’”

“Did he really feel as strongly as that? He was only ten years old!”

“Carleton was never childish. He always knew what he wanted, and he had been led to believe Eversleigh was his. Well, he suppressed his anger and, loving Eversleigh, tried to make his cousin worthy of his inheritance. He told me how he made him sit his horse, hold his arrow, shoot his guns. Making a man of him, he called it. He said Edwin was too soft to manage Eversleigh. He would never have made a good job of it.”

“That was nonsense. Sheer jealousy.”

“As his loyal widow it would seem so to you. Carleton was determined to hold Eversleigh after the King was beheaded. As you know he stayed behind when so many were fleeing the country. He risked his life for Eversleigh. Then Edwin came and was killed and he was the heir again. I remember him then—the quiet confidence … the assurance.”

“It sounds as though he rejoiced in his cousin’s death.”

“He had never had a high opinion of him. I think it seemed to him that fate had decided to watch over Eversleigh by giving it a strong master.”

“This does not endear me to him.”

“I think he has plans for you.”

“Plans?”

“He is attracted to you in some way. He is easily attracted to women.”

“He had better begin to look elsewhere.”

“You would seem different to him.”

“The simple girl up from the country—” I said. She was talking to me as Harriet had done, patronizingly, faintly amused by my unworldliness. Well, if I was unworldly at least I had found more happiness than either she or Harriet. I had lost my husband, it was true, but I had my dear little son to comfort me.

“Oh, more than that,” she went on seriously. “You have a strong will. He would like that. You have turned against him. He would like that too. He never wanted easy conquests.”

“You had better tell him that this is one citadel which will remain unconquered.”

“That would only increase his ardour.”

“Ardour! An odd word to use.”

“He would like to offer you marriage. He sees that as the perfect solution. If you married him he would be your son’s guardian and the care and management of Eversleigh would remain in his hands, as it does now. At this time Lord Eversleigh leaves everything in his hands. He managed the estate during the difficult years, so it is only natural that he should go on doing so now. There is one impediment. He is already married to me.”

“I am thankful to say it is an unsurmountable one.”

“If I were to die …”

“You … die. You are young.”

“Look at me.”

“You are at the moment suffering from a minor indisposition. You will soon recover from that.”

She lay back and said nothing.

I went on: “This is a strange conversation. Tell me what you fancy to eat and I will have it sent to you.”

“Yes,” she said, “a strange conversation, but I am glad we have had it. I think you ought to know …”

There was a dreamy look in her eyes and I wondered whether she was in a fever. Fevers filled the mind with odd fancies.

I went to the bed and touched her hand. It was quite cold.

“Perhaps a little soup and a capon to follow. I will go and see about it.”

Her eyes followed me to the door. I heard her whisper: “Take care, Arabella. Take care of yourself … and your son.”

I went downstairs feeling very uneasy.

The next day Barbary was very much better, and seemed to revert to her old character, which was one of cynical sophistication. I wondered whether she regretted her confidence, for she seemed to avoid me and a few days after that she left for London.