"Polly, I have the fan. At one time my father ... and others ... thought Dougal would ask me to marry him. They all thought it would be good for me."

"He'd have shown a lot more sense if he had asked you, and I'm not sure you wouldn't have shown some if you'd said yes. He might not be all that you'd want ... not one of them dashing heroes ... he might be just a timid little man ... but he's not so bad, and you can't have everything in life. Sometimes it's best to take what you can get ... providing it's all right in the main."

"He didn't want me when he saw Lavinia. It was as though he were bewitched. He didn't see me after that. I was interested in what interested him, as my father was. He enjoyed being with us ... talking to us ... and then he saw Lavinia. He had seen her before, of course, but she was grown up and he saw her afresh. He forgot any feeling he might have had for me. You see, it's a sort of pattern."

"I shall begin to think you're going wrong in the head. What's all this got to do with fans?"

"I think, Polly, that I shall never be happy in love because I took the fan. It was in my possession for a while. That is what Miss Lucille believed ... and it seems as if ... you see."

"No, I don't see," said Polly. "This isn't like you. I always thought you had some sense."

"Strange things happen in India."

"Well, you're not there now. You're in plain, sensible England, where fans are just fans and nothing else."

"I know you're right."

"Of course I'm right. So don't let's have any more of this nonsense about fans. I reckon that fan done us all a good turn. When you look at young Fleur now and think what she was like at that time ... it makes me tremble all over now to think of it. So you're not going to marry this Dougal?"

"He hasn't asked me yet, Polly."

"Looks like he's just waiting for a shove in the right direction."

"I shall not do the shoving."

"Well, you'd have a grand title, wouldn't you? I never thought much of them myself, but there's plenty as do."

"I wouldn't want to marry for that, Polly."

"Course you wouldn't. But he seems a nice enough fellow. All he needs is a bit of pushing and you'd be rather good at that. And there's the children, too. They're fond of you and they'd have you as their mum. I reckon that's what they'd like."

"They probably would, but one doesn't marry for that reason."

"You're still thinking of that old fan. You're thinking it's going to be bad luck and nothing will go right while you have it. Here. Wait a minute. Come into the kitchen. I want to show you something. Just a minute. I'll go and get it."

I went into the kitchen. It was warm, for the fire was burning. It always was, for it heated the oven and the kettle was always on the hob.

Within a few minutes Polly came in; she was carrying the case that contained the peacock-feather fan.

She took it out and unfurled it.

"Pretty thing," she said.

Then she went to the fire and put the fan into the heart of it. The feathers were immediately alight—their deep blues mingling with the red of the flames. I gasped as I watched it disintegrate.

Nothing was left of it but the blackened frame.

I turned to her in dismay. She was looking at me half fearfully, half triumphantly. I knew she felt unsure of what my reaction would be.

"Polly!" I stammered.

She looked a little truculent. "There," she said. "It's gone. There's no need to worry about that any more. You was getting worked up about that fan. I could see it was beginning to get a hold of you. You was expecting things to go wrong ... and somehow that's often a way of making them. It's gone now ... that's the end of it. We make our own lives you know. It's got nothing to do with a bunch of feathers."

I had been in the park with Mrs. Childers and Fleur, and as soon as we returned Polly came hurrying into the hall, Eff just behind her. Polly looked anxious. Eff excited.

Eff called, "A visitor for you, Drusilla." And then, in a high-pitched, overawed sort of manner, she added, "In the parlour."

"Who ... ?" I began.

"You go and see," said Polly.

I went in. He was standing there, smiling, making the parlour look smaller and less prim than it usually did.

"Drusilla!" He came to me and took my hands. He looked at me for a second or so and then he held me to him tightly. After a moment he released me, holding me slightly away from him, looking at me intently.

"Why did you go?" he demanded. "Just when I was coming home."

"I ... I thought you would want to be with your family."

He laughed, a happy, derisive sort of laughter.

"You knew I wanted to be with you more than anyone."

I thought then: It is wonderful. I don't care what happens afterwards ... this is wonderful now.

I began, "I was not sure ..."

"I did not know you could be so foolish, Drusilla. You knew I was coming and you went away."

I tried to calm myself. "You've come here because of ... Fleur. You've come to try to take her away."

"What on Earth is the matter with you? Have you forgotten? Remember the last time we were together ... all those people around, when we wanted to be alone. The first thing I said when I came home was, 'Where is Drusilla? Why isn't she here with the children?' And my mother told me you had come here. I said, 'But I said she was to be here.' I expected to find you at Framling as soon as I got back."

"I didn't know you would want to see me."

He looked at me incredulously.

"Drusilla, what's happened to you?" he demanded.

I said slowly, "I've come home. Everything is different here. It seems to me now that in India I was living in a different world, where anything could happen. Here it is ... as it always was."

"What difference does it make where we are? We are us, aren't we? We know what we want. At least I do. And I want you."

"Have you thought ... ?"

"I don't have to think. Why are you being so aloof? It wasn't like this when we were last together."

"I tell you it is different now. How was it in India?"

"Chaotic."

"Alice and Tom?"

"In a state of bliss ... a most wonderful example of the joys of married life."

I smiled. "Ah," he said. "Now you are more like yourself. What is the matter? We're talking like strangers. Here am I come home to marry you and you behave as though we have just been introduced."

"To marry me! But ..."

"You are not going to raise objections, are you? You know my nature. I just ignore them."

"What of Lady Geraldine?"

"She is well, I believe."

"But your mother was arranging ..."

"Arranging what?"

"The wedding."

"Our wedding."

"Your marriage to Lady Geraldine. Your mother has been arranging it."

"I arrange my own wedding."

"But Lady Geraldine ..."

"What has my mother said to you?"

"That you were coming home to marry her."

He laughed. "Oh, she has had that in mind for some time. She forgot to consult me, that's all."

"But she will be ... furious."

"My mother will agree with me. She always does. Though I believe I am the only one whose opinion she considers. Stop thinking about my mother and think of me. You're not marrying her."

"I can't believe all this."

"You're not going to say, 'This is so sudden, sir,' as so many well-brought-up ladies are supposed to."

"But, Fabian, it is sudden ..."

"I should have thought it was obvious. The way we were in India ... have you forgotten?"

"I forget nothing of what happened there."

"We went through all that together, didn't we? I blamed myself for bringing you out there. But now we're here ... together ... I think those times taught us a great deal about each other. It taught us that there was a special bond between us and it grows stronger every day. It's never going to break, Drusilla. We're together ... forever."

"Fabian, I think you go too fast."

"I think I have gone unforgivably slowly. You are not going to refuse me, are you? You should know by now that I never take refusals. I would immediately abduct you and drag you to the altar."

"Do you really mean that you want to marry me?"

"Good Heavens! Haven't I made that clear?"

"You do realize it is most unsuitable."

"If it suits me it has to suit everyone else."

"Lady Harriet would never allow it."

"Lady Harriet will accept what I want. She already knows. I was enraged when I came back and found you weren't there. I said, 'I am going to marry Drusilla and there will be no delay about it.' "

"She must have been outraged."

"Only mildly surprised."

I shook my head.

He said, "I am disappointed in you, Drusilla. Have you forgotten everything? That night you came to the house ..." I shook my head and he went on, "That dreadful moment when I feared I might miss ... that I might be too late. You've no idea what I went through. I lived a lifetime in those few seconds. Have you forgotten that trek to Bombay? I was desolate when you sailed away and I promised myself that the moment I was free of all that, we would be together ... and never part again. Drusilla, have you forgotten? Didn't I choose you when you were a baby? 'That's mine,' I said, and it has been like that ever since."

I felt numb with happiness, which I could not accept as real. He was holding me tightly. I felt protected against the fury of Lady Harriet, the disappointment of Lady Geraldine and the terrible fear that I would wake up and find I had been dreaming. Don't think of what's to come, I admonished myself. Live in the moment. This is the greatest happiness you could ever know.

He felt no such qualms. I knew, of course, that he would never have any doubts that he could have what he wanted.

"So," he said, "we'll go back. No delays. It will be the quickest wedding in Framling history. No more protests ... please."

"If it is true. If you mean it ... if you really mean it, then ..."

"Then what?"

"Then life is wonderful."

We called in Polly and Eff and told them the news.

"So you are getting married," said Polly. She was a trifle bellicose, I must admit. I saw the glint in her eyes. She was still a little uncertain whether her little ewe lamb was going to be devoured by the big, bad wolf.

He knew how she regarded him and I saw the glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Soon," he told her, "you shall dance at our wedding."

"My dancing days are over," said Polly tersely.

"But on such an occasion they might be revived, perhaps," he suggested.

Eff's eyes glistened. I could see her choosing her dress. "It's for a wedding, a rather special one. Sir Fabian Framling. He's marrying a special friend of ours." I could hear her explaining to the tenants. "Well, I suppose you'd call it one of them grand weddings. Polly and me, we've had our invitations. Such an old friend."

Polly was less euphoric. She didn't trust any man except her Tom, and her suspicion of Fabian was too deeply rooted to be dispersed by an offer of marriage.

I could smile at her fears and be happy.

Fabian wanted to stay on in London for a few days, and then we would go back together. He had booked a room in a hotel. Eff was relieved. She had had an idea that she might have to 'put him up,' but she did not really think there was a vacant room in any of the houses that would be worthy of a titled gentleman, although the prestige that would come from being able to say, "When Sir Fabian was in one of my rooms ..." would be great.

Later that day Fabian and I went to a jewellers to buy a ring. It was beautiful—an emerald set in diamonds. When it was on my finger I felt happier than I ever had been in my life ... for the ring seemed to seal the bond and to proclaim to the world that I was to marry Fabian.

I believed I would be happy. I believed I could forget the horrible sights I had witnessed during the Mutiny. I was loved by Fabian, more deeply, more tenderly than I had ever believed possible; and somehow at the back of my mind I linked my happiness with the destruction of the peacock-feather fan.