"How could you not?"

"My grandfather would never agree."

"I thought we were going to outwit Grandfather and Cousin Arthur. So we don't need the agreement of either of them. Pippa, let me show you how I love you."

"I ... don't ..."

"Then let me teach you," he said.

He had unbuttoned my bodice. I put my hands up to stop him, but he took them and began to kiss them. I was afraid and yet overcome by an excitement such as I had never known before. Everything seemed to fade away ... the past ... the future ... everything that frightened me. There was nothing but this moment. He was kissing me as he took off my bodice.

"What is happening ..." I stammered. "I must go... ."

But I made no attempt to. I was overwhelmed by an irresistible longing.

He kept telling me that he loved me, that I had nothing to fear. We were going to be together forever and ever. I could forget my grandfather, forget Cousin Arthur. They were in the past. There was nothing else that mattered except this wonderful love of ours.

The contrast to all I had felt since Francine had gone was so great that I had to shut out everything but this moment. There was one part of me that was trying to reason, but I wouldn't listen.

"I must go now ..." I began; and I heard him laugh softly and then I was in the four-poster bed and he was there with me. All the time he was murmuring endearments and I was shocked and shattered and overwhelmed with delight.

Afterwards he just lay still, holding me. I was trembling and very happy and in an odd way defiant, telling myself that I wouldn't have it different if I had a chance to go back.

He stroked my hair and told me I was beautiful, adorable and that he would love me forever.

"Nothing like this has ever happened to me before," I said.

"I know," he answered. "Is it not wonderful to be together like this? Come, little Pippa, tell me the truth?"

I told him it was.

"And you have no regrets?"

"No," I said firmly. "No."

Then he kissed me and made love to me again, and this time it was different; the shock was gone and there was a different kind of ecstasy. I realized that my cheeks were wet, so I must have wept, for he kissed my tears away and said he had never been so happy in his life.

He got up and put on a silk robe of blue with gold figures on it. The blue matched his eyes and he looked like one of the Norse gods.

"Are you mortal?" I asked, "or are you Thor or Odin or one of the gods or perhaps heroes of the Norsemen?"

"You know something of our mythology, I see."

"Francine and I used to read of it with Miss Elton."

"Who would you like me to be—Sigurd? I always thought he was a bit foolish to drink the potion and marry Gudrun when his true love was Brunhild, didn't you?"

"Yes," I answered. "Very foolish."

"Oh, little Pippa, we are going to be so very happy." He went to the table and poured out more wine. "Refreshment after our exertions," he said. "It will give us strength to renew them."

I laughed. Something was happening to me. I drank the wine. He seemed to grow taller than ever and I felt a little dizzy.

I said: "It's the wine."

Then his arms were round me and we were caught up again in our love.

That was a night of awakening for me. I was no longer a child, no longer a virgin. I slept a little and when I awoke the effect of the wine was no longer with me.

I sat up hastily and looked at Conrad. He stirred and reached for me. As though to warn that the magic night was over, the church clock struck four. Four o'clock in the morning and I had been out since ten!

I touched my naked body in dismay. My clothes were lying on the floor.

I cried out, "I must go!"

He was wide awake now. He put his arms round me.

"There's nothing to be afraid of. You are coming with me."

I said, "Where shall we be married ... in a church like Francine?"

He was looking at me in silence. Then he smiled and drew me to him. "Pippa," he said, "there can't be a marriage any more than there could be for Francine."

"But we have ..."

My eyes took in the disorder of the bed and the man naked beside me. There were memories of the night we had spent together, the empty wine bottle, the ashes in the fireplace.

He smiled gently.

"I love you," he said. "I will take you with me. I will care for you always. We will have children perhaps. Oh, you will have a wonderful life, Pippa. You will lack for nothing."

"But we must marry," I said foolishly. "I thought that was what you meant when you said you loved me."

He smiled, still tender but just faintly cynically I thought. "Love and marriage don't always go together."

"But I cannot be ... with you like this ... if I am not your wife."

"But you can and you have proved it, for you have."

"But—it is impossible."

"In the world of Greystone Manor perhaps. We are leaving that behind us and everything will be different now. I would to God I could marry you. That would make me very happy. But I am already as good as married."

"You mean you have a wife?"

He nodded. "You could say that. That is how it is in my country. Wives are chosen for us and we go through a ceremony which is tantamount to marriage."

"Then you should never have deceived me into thinking that we should be married."

"I did not deceive you. Marriage was not mentioned."

"But I thought that we were going to be. I thought that was what it all meant... . You said you would take me away with you."

"Everything I have said I would do, I will do. The one thing I cannot do is marry you."

"Then what are you proposing? That I should be your mistress?"

"Some would say this is what you already are."

I covered my face with my hands. Then I was off the bed and searching for my clothes.

"Pippa," he said, "be sensible. I love you. I want you with me all the time. Please, dearest Pippa, you must understand."

"Yes, I do understand. You do this sort of thing because it amuses you. You do not love me. I am just a light o' love. I believe that is what they call it."

"A rather old-fashioned expression, I believe."

"Please do not joke. I see I have been foolish again. You enjoy making me seem so. First the entry. It wasn't the right register, was it? You arranged that."

"I assure you I did no such thing."

"You planned this. You gave me that wine ... and now— you have ruined me."

"My dear child, you talk like a character in a cheap melodrama."

 "I am cheap perhaps ... cheaply come by. I succumbed very readily, did I not? And you took advantage of that ... and now you say you have a wife. I don't believe you."

"Once again I assure you it is true. Pippa, you must believe that if this had not been so I should have asked you to marry me. I am sure you must see that what is between us will grow and grow. ... It will be the sort of love which is the most worthwhile thing in the whole world."

I was so miserable. My puritanical upbringing at Greystone made me see myself as ruined, a fallen woman.

"Listen to me," he said. "Come away with me. I will show you a new life. There is more to relationships between two people than signing a name in a register. I love you. We can have a wonderful life together."

"And your wife?"

"That is something apart."

"You are cruel and cynical."

"I am realistic. I was involved in this marriage for family reasons. It is a marriage of convenience. That is accepted. It is not meant to prevent my loving someone else—someone who could become dearer to me than anyone on earth. You don't believe me, do you?"

"No," I replied. "I have heard of men like you. I did not think of that in the beginning. I was carried away."

His arms were round me once more. He said, "You are adorable. You love me, you see. You wanted me. You did not say then, 'When are you going to marry me?' That did not come into your head."

"I realize I know very little about the ways of the world."

"Then come with me and learn. Customs are made for men and women, not men and women for customs."

"I could not take your view of life."

I had started to dress. He said, "What are you going to do? Will you be at the station this morning?"

"How could I? It would be wrong."

"So you will let me go ... alone?"

"What alternative have I?"

"Come live with me and be my love, and we will all the pleasures prove! Another of your English poets. You see, I know them well. Oh, little Pippa, you are a child still... in spite of the fact that I have made a woman of you. You have so much to learn. If you do not come with me today you will regret it all your life."

"I could regret it if I came."

"That is a chance we must take in life. Pippa, take your chance. Do what you want to do."

"But I know it would be wrong."

"Throw away your conventions, Pippa. Throw them away and learn to live."

"I must go back," I said.

"I will take you back."

"No ..."

"But I will. Give me a moment."

I stood there watching him and there were wild doubts in my heart. I was seeing myself setting out for the station. He would be there. We would board the train together ... to love and adventure. It was like Francine's story repeating itself.

"Come." He slipped his arm through mine and as he did so he kissed me tenderly. "My darling," he went on, "I promise you you will never regret."

It seemed that Francine was very close to me then. And what of the entry in the register? Had I really seen it? Had Francine had to face the same dilemma? I felt lost and bewildered and very inexperienced.

We came out into the cool air of the early morning.

"You should go," I said. "You should not be seen with me.

"Let us hope no one sees you returning at this hour of the morning."

He was holding my hand firmly against him. "This morning," he said. "Ten o'clock at the station. Be careful. We'll get on the train separately. I shall have your ticket."

I drew myself away and ran. My heart was beating wildly as I came into the courtyard. By good fortune the window was as I had left it. I scrambled through and closed it, and hurrying through into the hall started up the stairs.

Suddenly I felt myself go cold with apprehension. Mrs. Greaves was standing on the top stair watching me. She was in dressing gown and slippers and her hair was in iron curlers.

She cried out, "Oh, Miss Philippa. You gave me a shock, you did. I thought I heard someone. Wherever have you been?"

"I—I couldn't rest. I went for a little walk in the gardens."

She looked disbelievingly at my tousled hair. I was sure I must have appeared rather strange.

I sped past her as she stood aside and once in my room I sank onto my bed. I felt bruised and bewildered and was trying not to look ahead to what the future held.

I think I must have slept at last, for I was physically and mentally exhausted. I awoke startled and saw that it was nine o'clock. I lay in bed thinking of the events of last night and I longed to be with him. I wanted to forget my scruples and go with him. I wouldn't care if it was wrong, if it was not all against my upbringing. I just wanted to be with him.

It was all I could do to restrain myself from throwing a few things together and running to the station. What did it matter if we could not marry? I had already been a wife to him. If only Francine could have been with me! She would have said, "You must go with him!" Francine would have gone. Hadn't she gone with Rudolph? Was it similar? Had her assertions that she had married been a fabrication, a sop to the conventions? Had I imagined I had seen that entry in the register? Life was becoming like a fantastic dream.

If Miss Elton had been here she would have brought a certain sanity to the situation. I could imagine her folding her hands together and saying, "Of course you cannot go and live with a man who will not marry you." And I know I should have felt that was not only right but the only possible answer.

Oh, but I wanted to go. How desperately I wanted to!

It was nine-thirty. Too late now.

There was a knock on the door. It was one of the maids. "Miss Philippa, are you not well?"

"I have such a headache," I replied.