He raised his eyebrows and smiled at me in a manner I did not understand and vaguely felt that it was better so.

“And you?” I said. “What of you?”

“Ah, like you I doubtless do what is expected of me. Alas, it is not always the good thing that is expected.”

“And your home is in France. What part?”

“My home is in the country—a small place a few leagues from Paris—but I spend most of my time in Paris and am chiefly at court.”

“You serve the king.”

“We of the court of France do not so much serve the king as the king’s mistress. The lady is the mistress of us all—by which I mean that we must obey her whims if we would remain in favor … not, of course, that we are the lady’s lovers. The king is enough for her. She is by no means as lusty as your Jessie.”

“Who is this lady?”

“Jeanne Antoinette Poisson … otherwise the Marquise de Pompadour.” He spoke with a certain amount of bitterness, which I was quick to detect.

“I gather that you do not like the lady overmuch.”

“One does not like the Pompadour … one merely does not offend her.”

“I am surprised. You do not appear to me to be a meek man, to obey someone … someone of whom you obviously do not approve.”

“I have a great desire to hold my place at court. I should not wish to be banished from a way of life which I find most interesting.”

“The court, you mean.”

“The affairs of the country,” he said, smiling at me.

“So you are cautious.”

“When there is need to be, yes. Mind you, I am of the nature to like to take a risk now and then.”

“I hope you are not a gambler,” I said, and suddenly I thought of my father’s being carried into the house mortally wounded.

He put his hand over mind.

“You look really concerned,” he said.

“No … of course not. It is no business of mine.” I added: “Are you here on a diplomatic mission?”

“I am here,” he said, “because it may be some time before I shall get an opportunity of being here again. If there is war between our countries …”

“War!”

“It’s blowing up, you know. Then traffic is difficult.”

“What war?”

“Perhaps it won’t happen, but Frederick of Prussia is getting aggressive and Maria Theresa of Austria wants to get Silesia from him.”

“Why should that concern us … your country and mine?”

“We the French have great friendship with Maria Theresa, and your King George is more German that English. You can be sure he will side with Frederick. Then we have a war and our countries will be enemies.”

“I believe you are here on some secret mission,” I said.

“Ah, I am arousing your interest at last.”

“Are you … here on some secret matter?”

“I am going to say yes because then you will think how mysterious I am … how interesting.”

“But if it is not so?”

“If it were you would not expect me to tell you, would you?” He changed the subject abruptly. “You may have to come back here the day after tomorrow. I am going to drive you.”

“Oh … thank you.”

Then he said: “We shall put our heads together and find out how we get the papers signed.”

“Are you thinking that my business is almost as devious as yours?”

“Exactly that. You see why we are drawn together. Birds of a feather … is that what you say?”

So we talked until I realized that time was flying and I said I must go. I wished to be back before Jessie returned.

I sat up beside him as we drove back, and listening to the ringing of the horses’ hooves on the road and sitting close to him so that his velvet jacket often touched my arm I realized that I was enjoying this with a different kind of emotion from any I had known before.

We arranged that on the day after tomorrow we should go into the town and collect the will. Then there would be the problem of getting it signed. I should have to think about that.

“Don’t despair,” he said. “I could slip into the house with my valet. It wouldn’t be safe to ask any of the servants at Eversleigh. Who knows, they might be one of Jessie’s spies?”

We laughed together. The whole affair seemed a tremendous joke. He talked about the conspiracy in a hollow voice, building up such a story of intrigue suggesting the most villainous motives for Jessie and the estate manager, whom he called her paramour, that we were quite hilarious, making the most wild suggestions in mock serious tones.

All too soon we arrived back at Eversleigh.

“The day after tomorrow then we escape into the town to collect the papers,” whispered Gerard.

I agreed that we should.

“I shall see you then … unless you should stroll towards Enderby … or I should happen to be near Eversleigh way tomorrow.”

I hesitated. “I have to see my uncle. Let us make it the day after tomorrow. We must be careful.”

He put his fingers to his lips. “Take care,” he whispered. “The enemy may be on our trail.”

Then we were laughing again and I felt quite ridiculously happy in a way which I didn’t remember feeling before.

I was behaving in a way very unlike my usual custom, and with a stranger. I should have been wary then, but I had not yet begun to know myself.

I did not see him next day. After we parted that strange mood of exultation left me and the matter of my uncle’s will no longer seemed the joke it had as we drove back from the town. It was just a sordid matter of an old man being besotted about a younger woman and so dependent on her that he had to bribe her to stay with him.

I began to feel I had been rather indiscreet to have told so much to someone I hardly knew. But when I was with him I felt that I knew him very well. I felt a closeness … an intimacy.

Looking back I realize how unsophisticated I must have been not to realize what was happening.

However, perhaps I did feel faintly uneasy, for the next day I did not stroll down to Enderby, and if he came near Eversleigh I did not see him, for I did not go beyond the closed-in gardens.

I saw my uncle during the morning with Jessie present nibbling her sweetmeats and looking, I thought, even more pleased with herself than usual. During that morning session we had a caller. It was Amos Carew, and he came up to my uncle’s bedroom while I was there so I had an opportunity to study him.

He had bright dark eyes and a very curly beard and lots of dark curly hair. A hairy man. That was how I would describe him to Gerard when we next met. I smiled inwardly at the prospect.

My uncle clearly thought highly of Amos Carew.

“Here you are, Amos. This is my … well, we haven’t quite worked out the relationship, but her mother is, I think, my nearest relation and so we call each other niece and uncle. That is a title which fits a lot of relationships even when it is not entirely accurate.”

“Well, I’m pleased to meet you, madam,” said Amos Carew. He took my hand and squeezed it in a manner which was decidedly painful. I thought he was going to crack my bones.

“I have heard of you,” I said, “so it is a pleasure to meet you.”

He laughed. Amos Carew laughed a great deal, I soon noticed. He had a variety of laughs—overhearty, deprecating, just amused. It could be due to nervousness, but no. I didn’t think he would ever be nervous. Cautious perhaps …

“His lordship likes me to pop in now and then to give him an account of things.”

“Yes, of course.” I said. “I am sure the estate is of great interest to him.”

“Well, it’s hard for his lordship.” The little laugh followed the words. Sympathetic this time. I thought. “Cooped up, you might say.” he went on. “And he was always a one for the outdoor life, wasn’t that so, your lordship?”

“Ah yes, I liked being out. Walking … fishing …”

“What you would call an all-round sportsman, eh, pet?” Jessie looked at Amos and a significant glance passed between them. Amos laughed again. This time appreciation for a sportsman coupled with sympathy for his present plight.

“I would like you to show my … er … niece something of the estate sometimes, Amos.”

“Gladly, my lord.”

“Well, you must take her on the rounds. Would you like that. Zipporah?”

“Very much,” I said.

“You’ll get some notion of the size of it. I think you’ll find it a good deal bigger than your Clavering.” He turned to Amos. “My niece’s husband should have come with her.” he went on, “but was prevented by an unfortunate accident. Next time … he’ll be with her.”

“That will be right and proper, my lord.”

“Yes.”

I listened to them talking about the estate. Uncle Carl seemed intent on taking it all in and now and then would throw a glance at me. I also listened with interest because Jean-Louis often talked to me about the difficulties at Clavering so I understood what they were talking about.

When Amos Carew said he must go Jessie conducted him to the door. I was watching them in a mirror and I saw her whisper something to him.

There’s some sort of conspiracy going on, I thought. Then I laughed at myself. Gerard with his mock seriousness and his jokes had made me see something in this situation which was nothing more than a besotted man and a grasping woman, who, while she played the role of my uncle’s mistress, was in fact conducting a love affair with his manager.

At dinner I thought Jessie seemed particularly pleased with herself and went off rather earlier than usual for her rendezvous with Amos.

I made my way to my uncle’s room, for I felt I had much to tell him.

He was eagerly awaiting me; he looked very much alive and his brown eyes sparkled almost with mischief. I thought.

He took my hand as I bent over to kiss him.

“Sit down, my dear, and tell me what you have done and then … I have something to tell you.”

I immediately explained how I had gone into the town on the previous day and seen the younger Mr. Rosen, who was drawing up the will which I should collect tomorrow.

He nodded. “That is good. Then it must be signed and sent to Rosen. Ha, ha. Poor Jessie. She will get a shock, I fear. But it is the only way.”

“But, uncle,” I said, “she cannot expect to inherit a large family estate. I am sure she does not.”

He laughed. “You don’t know Jessie,” he said fondly. “Jessie has large ideas. Poor Jess … but I’ve fooled her. I’m afraid. I … er … signed something … yesterday … I had to make her happy.”

“You signed something!”

He gave me a grin and touched his lips. I thought then that it was just possible he was not quite in possession of his senses.

He said: “You’re here now. You’ve seen Rosen …. Well. I thought it was safe to sign something … for Jessie.”

“You mean … a will.”

“Well, sort of. Not all drawn up, of course, but Jessie wouldn’t know the difference. I’ve signed a paper dated yesterday that she should have everything … the house, the estate … all except one or two little legacies which I would think about later.”

I was astonished. I really thought I had wandered into a madhouse.

“Uncle Carl!” I cried in dismay.

“Now don’t scold. I like to see her happy. That letter will satisfy her and stop her getting at me, and it’ll become null and void when I sign my will because that will cancel anything else I have signed previously. That’s something to tell Rosen.”

I sat back in my chair gazing at him in wonder.

He looked at me almost pathetically and said: “I always liked a peaceful life and I’ve found out that you can get it with a few promises … as long as you cover your tracks, you see. I’ve signed Jessie’s paper. She’s happy. I’m happy. We’re all happy. She’ll get a shock … but only when I’m not here to see it.”

I was silent. It really was turning out to be a grotesque situation.

The next day Gerard d’Aubigné drove me into the town and I saw Mr. Rosen senior this time. He welcomed me warmly and tried to press a glass of wine on me but as I supposed I should be drinking cider at the inn later, I declined. He had drawn up the will, shaken his head gravely over what he called “the situation at the Court” and when I told him that Uncle Carl had already signed what he called “something” which was in favor of Jessie, he was horrified.

“We must get this will signed as soon as possible,” he said. “Mind you, we should contest any letter that woman produced, but to get the will signed and sealed and put into security here is the safest way of dealing with the situation. In view of what you have told me I think I should return with you and my assistant can witness Lord Eversleigh’s signature.”