Quite often Sabrina and I rode together. I think we both shared mixed feelings about these excursions—indeed about the entire visit. Sabrina’s memories were not so recent as mine nor so poignant; they were melancholy, though. She hated to go past the lake near Enderby where once she had had an accident while skating and was saved by her mother, whose death, many said, had been hastened by the event. And yet … her horse always seemed to lead her to Enderby. There was an irresistible urge to go near the place where she had been unhappy. I understood perfectly because it was the same with me. I also found it hard to keep away. When we went out on foot I could never resist stepping over the broken palings and walking into the haunted patch. Perhaps I felt that Gerard would suddenly appear there as he had the first time I saw him.
“It’s a gloomy spot,” said Sabrina. “I don’t know why we come here.”
“There’s something fascinating about it.”
“Fascinating but repelling,” agreed Sabrina.
“I’m tired,” I said. “Let’s sit.”
“Here? Within sight of old Enderby and the ghost patch?”
“Why not? I’ve a feeling we are safe here today.”
We sat down leaning against those palings where they were not broken.
“I wonder they don’t clear up this place,” said Sabrina. “This was a rose garden at one time.”
“Perhaps no one wants to have anything to do with it.”
Sabrina said: “Sitting here like this when it is so quiet all around I could go right back to my childhood.”
I nodded. I was back on that evening at dusk when I had stepped over those palings and first met Gerard.
“You’ll have Eversleigh one day, Zipporah.” said Sabrina.
“That is if Uncle Carl doesn’t change his mind.”
“How can he?”
“Well, Jessie might persuade him to yet.”
“She’d have to get over those solicitors of his. I reckon they’d soon be up in arms if she tried to do anything like that. His mind seems very lively.”
I nodded, thinking of myself going into his room starry-eyed from my encounter with Gerard and Uncle Carl’s looking at me and calling me Carlotta. Had that been deliberate or had he really thought for a moment that I was the girl he had once admired so much?
“Your mother and I have talked a lot about … Dickon.”
I smiled and Sabrina went on: “I know you think we talk about little else.”
“You are rather devoted to the boy.”
“You understand, Zipporah.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Well, we are a bit concerned about him … what he’ll do when he grows up. You see … if you have Eversleigh … Jean-Louis will go there with you. He can’t manage Clavering as well. Clavering belonged to your father and you are the heir to that. You see you are rather a fortunate young woman, Zipporah. Two estates falling into your lap.”
“Clavering belongs to my mother,” I said quickly, “and she is young yet.”
“Oh, I know … but we talked of these things. They have to be arranged, you know, and it is unwise to put off talking of them because you’re trying to delude yourself into thinking your loved ones are immortal.”
“My mother discussed this, did she?”
“Yes. We thought that if and when Eversleigh is yours she might—if you were agreeable—make over Clavering to Dickon.”
“I see.” I said slowly.
“You see.” went on Sabrina eagerly, “he will have no inheritance really except what I have had from my father. He was not rich and times have been hard. Money has lost much of its value. Houses … land … they are the only assets which don’t seem to deteriorate. It would only happen of course if Eversleigh became yours. You can’t be in two places at once.”
“No. … What of Jean-Louis?”
“We thought you could talk it over with him.”
“He has put a great deal into Clavering.”
“I know.”
“He loves the place. He was brought up there, you know, as I was … apart from the time I spent in London before, before …”
Sabrina had turned sharply away. She could not bear any reference to my father’s death.
I went on quickly: “I am sure he would realize that if I were to inherit Eversleigh we should have to come here. That is the idea, isn’t it? The family continuing through the generations. Then of course he couldn’t be in Clavering. I will talk to him about it.”
“Thank you, Zipporah. You see, if Dickon develops this love of estate managing, it would be just what he needed … and with an estate of his own …”
“I do see,” I said. “I think it would be the only solution … if … and when. … But I don’t count on it, Sabrina. I know you see my uncle as an old man looked after in a well-run household by a housekeeper who takes a few liberties to which we have to turn a blind eye because she really is doing a necessary job and Uncle Carl is satisfied with the way she does it. When I came before it didn’t seem quite like that.”
“Well, it is all right now. Jessie sees which side her bread is buttered and she’ll keep on enjoying it for as long as she can, which means Uncle Carl lives on.”
As we were getting up a woman walked by.
She was fresh-faced, middle-aged and gave us a pleasant smile.
“Good day,” she said and hesitated.
We returned the greeting and she went on: “I have seen you around in the last few days. You’re staying at the Court, aren’t you?”
We told her we were and she said: “I live at Enderby.”
I felt my heart begin to beat fast. Gerard’s friends—the owners of Enderby who had lent him the house while they were away. Perhaps I could get news of him.
Sabrina was saying: “My parents lived at Enderby until they died.”
“Oh, well, you would know the house well.”
“We can’t resist coming to have a look at it.”
“Then you must come in and see what you think we have made of it.”
Sabrina was as excited as I was.
“It’s so kind of you,” she said.
“Not at all. We’re thinking of cutting down some of the trees to make the house lighter.”
“That was done once,” said Sabrina. “My mother did it when she went to live there.”
“They seem to grow so quickly here. Sometimes I feel that one morning I’ll wake up to find us completely shut in by them.”
She feels it, I thought. She feels the supernatural power of the house.
On the other hand she looked happy and proud as she opened the door and let us in.
Memories came rushing back. I fancied I could hear the sounds of the fair in the nearby fields. I felt sick with longing to be with Gerard again … to go back in time, to mount that staircase with him to the bedroom with the white and gold brocade curtains that had … for an instant looked red in the afternoon sunlight.
Sabrina was looking up at the minstrels’ gallery.
Our hostess laughed. “Oh, that’s the part that is said to be haunted. When we bought the house we were warned. I said I was not afraid of the ghost and would leave out a glass of wine for him … or her … if she would deign to visit me.”
“And you still feel the same now you live here?” asked Sabrina.
“I’ve never seen anything. Perhaps I’m not the type they like to visit.”
“I think a great deal depends on your attitude towards them,” I said. “When I was here last time I met someone who was staying here. …”
At that moment a man appeared on the staircase.
“We have visitors, Derek,” said our hostess. “They know Enderby well Isn’t that interesting? Come down and meet these ladies. This is my husband, Derek Forster. I am Isabel.”
He was as pleasantly welcoming at his wife.
“You’ll have a glass of wine,” she said. “I’ll send for it. Just a moment. Derek, take them into the winter parlor.”
He ushered us in and Sabrina said: “I’m Sabrina Frenshaw and this is my cousin’s daughter, Zipporah Ransome.”
“I’m delighted to meet you,” he said.
His wife returned to us. “Refreshment is coming,” she said. “Do sit down, mistress … ?” She paused and looked at Sabrina, who said: “Frenshaw.”
“Mistress Frenshaw spent her childhood in this house.”
“Then you must be …”
“Sabrina Granthorn, that was. The daughter of Jeremy Granthorn, who once owned the house.”
“Oh yes, we had heard. That’s fascinating. So you spent your childhood here.”
“Yes, and so did Zipporah’s mother, for she was brought up by my mother.”
“I daresay you know every nook and cranny.”
I was longing to find out what she knew of Gerard and said: “When I came here to see my uncle I met a friend of yours who was staying here.”
They looked at each other in a puzzled way.
“Gerard d’Aubigné.” I said.
They looked blank.
“You had lent him the house while you were away,” I went on.
“We’ve not been away. We’ve never lent anyone the house. …” Then Derek Forster smiled suddenly. “Well, we haven’t been here two years yet. When did you come?”
I felt a great relief. I had begun to feel that I had had some uncanny adventure and that Gerard was indeed someone risen from the grave.
“It was three years ago.”
“Well,” said Derek, “that explains it. Gerard d’Aubigné, you say? That sounds like a Frenchman.”
“Yes,” I said, “he was.”
“They were strange people, I believe. I never saw them. They left in rather a hurry. The sale was affected through some proxy. It was all rather mysterious. It was said that they had been working for the French and had to leave the country quickly. Your Frenchman seems to confirm the story.”
“I didn’t meet them myself,” I said. “I gathered they had lent the house to him for a short period.”
“Spies, I imagine. Well, there is nothing like that about us, is there, Derek?”
“No, I’m afraid we’re rather dull.”
“And you enjoy the house?” I asked
“It’s an interesting house,” said Derek.
“Now you mention it,” said Isabel, “I sometimes feel it’s not quite like other houses.”
“We got it at a very reasonable price,” said Derek. “Too good to miss, in fact. My brother said we should be fools not to take it. He was particularly anxious that we should because he’s going to start a practice in the town. He’s a doctor, you see.”
“It feels different,” said Sabrina. “I think the atmosphere is something to do with the people who live in a house.”
“That would seem inevitable, I suppose.”
The wine was excellent, so were the little wine cakes which went with it and we were both sorry when we had to rise to go.
“How long are you staying?” asked Isabel.
“Not long. A fortnight perhaps.”
Sabrina said: “Lord Eversleigh is getting so old now. I think he likes to see his relations.”
I wondered if there was any gossip in the village about the situation there and I was sure that if there was, a woman like Isabel Forster would hear of it.
“He has a housekeeper who seems to keep a tight hand on everything.”
Yes, I thought there might be a certain amount of gossip.
We said good-bye and were asked to call again if we could spare the time. The Forsters would be delighted to see us at any time.
We went back to Eversleigh feeling we had had an interesting morning.
I decided that I must call on Jethro and seek a time when I might find him alone. I imagined if anyone was in Uncle Carl’s confidence here, it would be Jethro. After all, he had used him once before.
At the midday meal Jessie had been more talkative. I was under the impression that she had felt her way carefully with Sabrina and was still a little in awe of her. She did not eat with us as she had on my previous visit but was always bustling round to make sure, she implied, that everything was to our taste. “You can’t trust these maids nowadays.” she was fond of saying.
We rose from the table. Sabrina was going to call on the Forsters that afternoon. I knew Sabrina well and I imagined she liked to think of the past even though it was unpleasant. I decided that I did not want to go to Enderby again. I knew I could find out nothing about Gerard and I felt no desire to go there and revive memories which caused me such longing.
Jessie was looking at me rather slyly as I brushed past her. “I reckon you’re missing your little girl. Mistress Ransome.” she said.
I nodded.
“Well, she’ll be all of … what is it? two years. You see. I remember. She must have been born about nine months after you left here. …” She gave me a little nudge.
I felt the color rush to my face. I looked at Sabrina. She had noticed nothing. I turned back to Jessie and said: “Well. I shall soon be back with her.”
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