The greatest piece of luck was that James Fenton was looking after the estate. He had gone home directly after our return from London to break the news to Hetty, and in view of Jean-Louis’s condition he came back to us soon afterward, leaving Hetty, as he said, to pack up.

A few weeks later Hetty came with her two children and it was good to see her again. She was happy to be back but dreaded meeting Dickon, and as he would be coming for Christmas we arranged that she and James, with their children, should spend the holiday with James’s cousin on the farm and stay there until my mother with Sabrina and Dickon had returned to Clavering. It seemed a reasonable and satisfactory arrangement.

Thus the months passed. James had been a great asset and spent a lot of time with Jean-Louis discussing estate matters and working out policy; and Jean-Louis was delighted to have someone who would carry out his wishes—and. more than that, give his wholehearted support towards what was being done. James did a great deal to raise his spirits.

My friendship with the Forsters had grown and we were often in and out of each other’s houses. Charles Forster was frequently at Enderby, and as he visited Jean-Louis at least twice a week and more often of course when I called him in during one of Jean-Louis’s bad bouts, the family had become an important part of my life.

Then there was Evalina. She had been very friendly towards me since the matter of the will. She reminded me of a contented kitten who has found a good home and intends to keep it. She was assured the comfort and comparative opulence of Grasslands: she had her baby, whom she undoubtedly loved dearly, and a good manager—and perhaps more—in Jack Trent.

It was the day before Christmas Eve when our guests arrived. Lottie and I had done everything we could to bring a festive atmosphere into the house and by great good fortune Jean-Louis was better than he had been for some time. He was able to walk a little about the room with the aid of a stick and I arranged that on Christmas day two of the men servants might carry him down to the great hall. I prayed that we could keep the pain at bay for a little while.

Lottie was devoted to him. I saw his eyes light up whenever she came into the room. She invariably brought something for him which she had picked up during her walks or rides in the fields and woods. She came in with a sprig of holly, the berries as red as her cheeks.

“This has the most berries of all we picked, papa,” she told him, “so I saved it for you.”

It was a great comfort to me to see the joy she brought him. But for what I did there could be no Lottie to brighten his days. Good out of evil. Indeed it was so.

I listened to her chatter. “This is wild clematis, papa. Miss Carter makes me learn the names. Miss Carter knows everything, but alas your daughter is an ignoramus, dear papa. Did you know that?”

He took her hand and his eyes filled with tears. He was very emotional nowadays. “My daughter is the best and dearest girl in the world,” he said.

She regarded him with her head on one side. “As Miss Carter would say, it depends on what you mean by best. Best at jumping, yes … Best at climbing, yes. Best at sums … no, no, no! And rather wicked sometimes. I fear, and that’s not best.”

Her chatter amused him and she knew it. She might be rebellious at times, wayward often, but she had a good, kind and loving heart.

Together we watched the men bring in the yule log. She and I pored over the lists of food we should need for our guests. There would be games. Lottie’s eyes sparkled at the prospect. We needed a lot of people. The Forsters would come, and what about Evalina Mather?

I said we would have open house at Christmas.

“We’ll have dancing and fiddlers. Do you think the fiddlers will come on Christmas night, mama?”

“We’ll promise them punch and Christmas cakes as well as money. In fact we’ll make it irresistible for them.”

She clapped her hands. She was so excited. Suddenly she clapped her hands to her mouth.

“What is it?” I said.

“I should love to see Miss Carter dance,” she said.

“She might do so very well. People are full of surprises.”

“That would be the most unlikely Christmas surprise.”

“Wait and see,” I said, and we went on with our lists.

I was happy to see my mother again. She hugged me and said we had been separated far too long. I saw the compassion and dismay in her eyes when they rested on Jean-Louis and I realized how he must have changed since we left Clavering.

And there was Sabrina looking as beautiful as ever, and with her Dickon.

He was a man now. … He must be nineteen. He stood smiling at me with that rather enigmatic look which was half affectionate, half teasing.

“Well, it is good to see you, Zipporah,” he cried. “And this is Lottie. By Gad, you’ve grown.” He had picked her up and held her above his head looking up at her.

She was laughing. “Put me down,” she commanded.

“Not until you give me a kiss.”

“Oh, so it’s blackmail is it? All right then.” She gave him a peck on the forehead.

“Not good enough,” he said. “I don’t call that a nice cousinly kiss.”

“Put me down. Put me down!” shrieked Lottie.

I did not like to see her there held up in his arms and I was irritated by, the indulgent manner in which his mother and mine were regarding him.

As I started to lead them into the house I saw Lottie kissing him again.

“Now,” she said when she was on the ground, “you must meet Miss Carter.”

“Always delighted to meet the ladies,” said Dickon.

“Miss Carter is my governess.”

“That does not preclude her from being a lady.”

“Oh, she’s that all right,” said Lottie. “In fact, she’s always so anxious that I shan’t forget that I’m one she’s forever reminding me. She’s very good at her lessons.”

“I thought it was for you to be good at yours.”

“What I mean is she’s a good teacher.”

“With the naughtiest little pupil in the world, I don’t doubt.”

I was trying not to listen to their banter as I asked my mother about affairs at Clavering.

I took them to their rooms and heard from both my mother and Sabrina how absolutely wonderful everything was on the estate since Dickon had taken over.

“I was sorry he didn’t continue with his education,” said Sabrina. “But he would have his own way.”

“I think he’d always have that,” I commented wryly.

My mother said: “He thinks a lot of you, Zipporah. He’ll be in his element talking to Jean-Louis and your manager.”

“Our manager is not here at the moment. He is with his wife. It is a good thing that he is not here.”

“A good thing!” said my mother. “I thought that Jean-Louis looks so frail.”

“Our manager, mother, is James Fenton. I don’t think either he or his wife would want to meet Dickon.”

My mother looked embarrassed and Sabrina said: “Oh, that. That all happened a long time ago.”

I said: “And since it was due to Dickon it must become a sort of amusing joke.”

My mother was shocked. “I never thought it was a joke. But it is all over now. These things are natural happenings.” I could see it was no use expecting them to understand. Dickon was perfect in their eyes and it was no use upsetting everything right at the start of the Christmas holiday.

Madeleine Carter was introduced to the visitors and my mother heartily approved of her. “She seems a good sensible young woman,” she said.

Sabrina added: “Just the sort to keep Lottie in check.”

Dickon irreverently called her the Holy Virgin Madeleine, and told Lottie that he couldn’t quite detect the halo but he wondered whether her young eyes had seen it.

Lottie laughed and said: “You are not to make fun, Cousin Dickon. She’s very good.”

“And you like the good?”

“Of course I do.”

“Oh … I’m desolate. That means you don’t like me.”

Lottie pursed her lips and nodded, which sent Dickon into fits of laughter.

I could see he was charming Lottie; in fact he set out to charm everybody, even Madeleine Carter.

He certainly gave out an air of absolute joie de vivre. He was enormously interested in Eversleigh … as he had always been, but now that he was older and I suppose was able to compare the estate with that of Clavering, his interest was even greater. I was glad that he talked so enthusiastically to Jean-Louis, which seemed to do my husband good. I was grateful to him for that, but all the time I was watching Jean-Louis for some sign that the pain might be returning.

Christmas morning was bright and sparkling with frost on the roads and the rooftops, but by midday the wintry sun had melted it and as the wind had dropped it seemed quite mild. Lottie and Miss Carter went out riding in the morning and Dickon accompanied them. I heard their laughter and looked out of the window to see them ride by.

I was glad that Miss Carter was with them. I was sure she would keep even Dickon in check. Last evening he had called at Grasslands. I had expected he might stay late into the night but to my surprise he returned to Eversleigh after about an hour of his leaving. I wondered whether Evalina had not been at home.

I shrugged my shoulders. If he were going to resume that liaison it would keep him out of the house perhaps.

The carol singers came to pay us their usual visit. The riders were back by then. I knew they would be. Lottie would never allow them to miss the carols.

We all joined in and it was Lottie who helped to pass round the punch and the cake.

Jean-Louis was well enough to be brought down to the hall. I watched him closely for the first sign of the pain, in which case I decided I would give him a dose of laudanum and have him taken back to his bed. But he sat there smiling and his eyes scarcely left Lottie unless it was to look at me.

I sat beside him for most part of the time, watching him anxiously.

He knew it. He said: “Don’t worry, Zipporah. If I need a dose I’ll ask. Now forget it.”

So I tried to and I joined in the carols and took the punch which Lottie brought to me.

“You must have some, papa,” she said. “It will do you good.”

She brought the goblet to him, drank from it, smiling at him, and then handed it to him.

I heard him murmur: “Bless you, dear child.”

We had eaten and the festivities had begun. The great hall was crowded. The farmers on the estate, with their families. had come according to tradition and they would all join in the dancing when the fiddlers started to play. I had been right in my prophecy that they would come if the rewards were sufficient and they were pausing between dances to drink their punch.

The Forsters came with Charles and the farmers on their estate, as did the one or two from Grasslands: for Eversleigh was the manor house and the custom for years had been that everyone came to dance at least one measure at the Court on Christmas Day.

Evalina arrived looking happy in a rather secretive way. I saw Dickon watching her, but she seemed to be unaware of him. Jack Trent was with her.

I danced with Charles Forster. He was no great dancer—very different, I thought, from Dickon, who won the admiration not only of my doting mother and his own but that of the whole company by his cavorting. He took no one partner for the evening but danced with a different one every time, which was what would be expected of the host. I realized with vague annoyance that he had taken on that role. I was touchy. Of course he did. He was one of the family and Jean-Louis was unable to perform the duty.

Charles talked of Jean-Louis and said how pleased he was to see him in the hall.

“Do you think I was right to have him carried down?”

“Indeed I do. The more normal the life he leads the better.”

“I couldn’t have borne it if he had been ill tonight.”

“He’s in one of his quiet periods. I can see.”

“I do wish they would continue.”

“They might, and the longer time between each attack the better. When he is free of pain he has a chance to regain a little strength.”

“It is such a comfort that you are near.”

He pressed my hand. “It’s a comfort to me to be of use.”

We were smiling at each other and I was only half aware of Dickon’s flashing past with Evalina.

Charles returned me to Jean-Louis and stayed to chat with us. Jean-Louis told him how much better he felt. “The laudanum seems to give me strength,” he said.