She was unnaturally flippant I wondered whether she was a little ashamed.
We went through the house, passing among the dust-shrouded furniture. I broke away from her and went alone to the bedroom where Bevil had discovered me. I could picture him now pulling off the dust sheet and myself looking up at him. Bevil, for whom I felt a special need … now!
“I should never want to live here,” I said. “The best thing about it is the view.”
“Just sea right away to the horizon.”
“No, I mean on the other side. The coast and Menfreya,”
Gwennan smiled at me fondly. “I believe you love the old place as much as we do.”
We did not stay long on the island and went back to Menfreya; as we climbed the cliff garden, went through the porch which faced the sea and passed the stables and outhouses, one of the grooms came out.
“Mr. Bevil has just come home,” he said.
“So he has arrived has he,” smiled Gwennan; and she looked at me slyly.
I tried to make my face expressionless, but I don’t think I was very successful.
There followed some of the happiest days I had ever known. Bevil brought an atmosphere of gaiety into Menfreya.
Perhaps this was enhanced because I ceased to think about Gwennan. Bevil was constantly in OUT company; Harry Leveret rode over from Chough Towers every day, and the four of us took a morning ride. Lady Menfrey, who was in perpetual fear that her headstrong family would do something outrageous, consoled herself that we chaperoned each other. I became almost gay; on horseback I was happier than on my feet; there I felt an equal and, probably because of this, I was a good horsewoman. Everything seemed to be in my favor. Jessica Trelarken was miles away—somewhere in London, according to A’Lee. Harry was completely wrapped up in Gwennan, and she in her own complicated affairs. That left Bevil and myself.
We would ride ahead of the others; sometimes we lost them.
“I don’t think they’ll miss us,” said Bevil. I shall never forget walking our horses through the woods, with dappled shadows cast by the foliage; the feel of a horse beneath me always brings back that wild exhilaration. I discovered then that for me there would never be any other in my life to compare with Bevil. He seemed all that I had dreamed he was in my childhood when I had made of him a knight… my knight The birdsong; the soft breeze coming off the sea—that gentle southwest Cornish wind that is like a caress, soft and damp, and beautifying because it makes your skin glow; the sudden glimpse of the sea, midnight-blue, azure-blue, peacock-blue … pale almost to greenish-blue, aquamarine—all the blues in the celestial artist’s palette —and grays and greens and mother-of-pearl. But never, as I said to Bevil, so beautiful as when touched by the rosy glow of sunrise.
“Don’t tell me you wake early to see it?”
“I do. But the best view is from the island house; then you can look back at the land and Menfreya … Menfreya in the morning is the loveliest sight in the world. I saw it once …”
He laughed and his tawny eyes were on me—on my throat and my body and then they were looking into mine.
“I remember the occasion well. I found you cowering under a dust sheet and thought you were a tramp.”
“I had thought you were a ghost until I heard voices. You were not alone, remember.”
“Of course not I didn’t go to see the view. But one day I will. You will have to invite me, for the place is no longer ours; and I promise you I'll arrive early and we’ll look at Menfreya hi the morning… together.”
“I should like that”
He looked over his shoulder.
“It seems we have lost them again,” he said with a grin.
“I think Harry has taken some pains to get lost”
“And I confess I made no effort to prevent him.”
“You think it wise?”
“When you know me better, Harriet, which I hope you will, you will discover that I am not often wise,”
“You’re all very happy about Gwennan’s marriage, I believe?”
“It’s ideal. Harry’s a fine fellow; and they’ll live at Chough Towers. It couldn’t be better.”
“And he’s very rich.”
“There’s money in the duchy if you know where to find it Tin, china clay, the stone we built our houses with, and our seas chock full of fish. There are fortunes waiting for the energetic.”
“And the Menfreys are not energetic?”
“We never had to be. But believe me, being the Member for Lansella is no sinecure. You know that from your father’s day.”
“Do you enjoy the life?”
He turned to me. “I always wanted it It seemed wrong that Lansella should not be represented by a Menfrey. It always has been, and I believed when I was quite young that rd go into politics. I had all sorts of plans for reforms. I was young and idealistic. I could have told you all the important events as far back as Peel’s ministry, Russell’s, Derby’s, Aberdeen’s and Palmerston’s. I’ve followed Disraeli’s career and Gladstone’s … And, of course, Rosebery’s and Salisbury’s.”
“Yes, I have too.”
“You. But why you, Harriet?”
“Because I used to feel sometimes that if I could talk to my father about politics he might become interested in me. I really believed that it was possible at one time.”
He was looking at me intently. “Tell me, Harriet, don't you think the world of politics is a fascinating one?”
“The people are fascinating. I should love to have met Mr. Disraeli. His marriage must have been quite perfect He with his curls, flamboyance and brilliant wit; she in her feathers and diamonds. I have always heard that they were devoted to each other; and I think that is wonderful.”
“How romantic you are. I had no idea.”
“It was natural that she should be devoted to him because he was Prime Minister, favorite of the Queen, and everyone waited for what he would say next; but she was, so I heard, a rather ridiculous woman, years older than he was and not very intellectual. And he married her for her money. Fancy! Yet he said later, or perhaps someone else said it, that although he married her for her money, after years together he would have married her for love.”
“Marriages of convenience often turn out the best in the end. Theirs was a shining example. They have everything on their side.”
“Except love?” I suggested.
“Love is something that takes time to grow perhaps.”
“What of love at first sight?”
“That’s passion, my dear Harriet, a less hardy plant.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I believe only what is proved. I am a man of little faith, as you see,”
“Well, let us hope that one day you will be able to prove your theories.”
“I shall, Harriet, I've no doubt. It’s interesting, you know, your being the daughter of the late Member.”
“You find it so?”
He studied me, his eyes screwed up against the sunlight.
“You’ll have to help me during the next election.”
“I should enjoy it”
“A woman can be a great help—particularly the daughter of the late Member.”
“But you don’t need help down here. They’re only too eager that you should represent them.”
He leaned towards me and gripped my wrist “I shall need your help,” he said; and I flushed with pleasure.
I was so happy; I had to keep reminding myself that this was how he was with women. He knew exactly what to say to please them best.
He was smiling at me. ‘Tin glad,” he went on, “that yon are growing up now, Harriet. We must meet more frequently.
My chambers are not far from your. You must ask your stepmother to invite me.”
“I will”
We lightly touched our horses flanks and cantered across the open stretch of country which lay before us.
We had reached the moor and we tethered our horses for a while and sat on a stone wall. It was a glorious morning, with the sun shining on the long grass picking out the globules of moisture clinging to the blades—for there was a little mist up there—and making them glitter like crystals. The soft wind touched my skin and I was happy.
Then he returned to Jenny.
“You enjoy being part of that menage, Harriet?”
“It’s my home, I suppose.”
“I wonder she cares to stay on in that house.”
“She was planning to buy a house in the country, but she can’t touch the capital my father left her. Presumably she holds it in trust for me.”
“So that’s the way it is.”
“I don’t understand fully. All I know is that Greville, Baker and Greville told her she could not have the money for the house.”
“Then you, my dear Harriet, will be a considerable heiress, in certain circumstances.”
“I hope I shall never inherit, for that means she would have to die first I should hate that Do you know, I’ve grown quite fond of her.”
“Those sentiments do you credit, Harriet.”
“They do credit to my good sense. If I had inherited all my father’s fortune I should be a prey to those gentlemen who are looking for a marriage of convenience. I prefer my own modest fortune and comparative safety from attack.”
“Dear Harriet, your fortune, modest or otherwise, is not your only asset”
“You surprise me.”
“Do I? Then it is tit-for-tat. You surprise me with your conversation.”
“I suppose you previously thought I had none?”
“It is only recently that you have given me the opportunity to enjoy it.”
“It is only recently that you have sought that opportunity.” He laughed and, taking my hand, pressed it “Harriet,” he said, “promise that you will give me many more such opportunities, here and in London,”
He leaned towards me and kissed my cheek. Not passionately, as I imagined he kissed others, but gently, wonderingly. I thought: He is regarding me in a different light He is getting to know me, to like me. Or was he getting to know about my fortune and liking that?
But it was no great fortune, because Jenny was only a few years older than I, and I should not be likely to inherit for years, if ever.
The thought made me happy. It was not the fortune. It was myself.
Such happiness for one unaccustomed to it was almost too intoxicating.
When we mounted our horses, he said: “So your stepmother didn’t know how she stood?”
“She heard the will read; she saw the solicitor, but didn't take in the legal facts.”
“I should have thought something so vital to herself would have made some” impression-“
“I was present when the will was read, but I didn’t grasp it Actually my mind was wandering and I was thinking ...”
“What?”
“Oh, what a waste it was that my father and I had never been friends, and then never could be.”
“One of these days, Harriet, someone ought to make up to you for all you’ve missed.”
“That would be justice, but life isn’t always just, is it?”
“Perhaps we should see that it works out that way.”
What did he mean? Was it tantamount to a proposal?
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, after we had left the moors. “You are rather vague about your inheritance aren’t you? You could find out, you know.”
“I could go to Greville, Baker and Greville.”
“You needn’t do that. You could see a copy of the will in Somerset House. Would you like me to look into it for you when I’m in town?”
I felt a sudden quiver of alarm, but I said: “Yes, please, Bevil, do.”
“I will,” he said. “You leave it to me. Quite a cool wind blowing up.”
Was it that cool wind, I thought, which was making me feel a little cold?
Looking back after a tragedy, the preceding days seem to have taken on an unreality. One has been living with the obvious and yet failed to see what is under one’s nose.
Those were days of sunshine and preparations, and the wedding was coming nearer. Nine days … eight days … When I had been in Plymouth a few days before, Gwennan and I had gone to the theater and I had seen the company’s bills posted outside the building, with “Last Week” stamped across them.
Thank goodness, I thought. When they’re gone, Gwennan will settle down and forget all about them. In a short time when she had returned from her honeymoon and asked me down to stay with her as she had promised, we would laugh and christen it the Greasepaint Period.
She surprised me on the last day of the company’s stay in Plymouth by not going to say goodbye to them. I thought with relief: She has finished with them already.
My dress was ready and hanging hi my wardrobe. It was very pretty—in clinging lilac chiffon—and I was to wear a headdress of green leaves. The bridesmaids were to be in green with touches of mauve. The color was certainly going to be effective.
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