“All right. But go now.”

I could see my father was getting more and more angry and that his anger was directed at Jonathan, and I felt I must put an end to the scene as soon as possible.

I managed to get Jonathan and the girl outside. Then I saw Tamarisk.

“What’s happened?” she cried.

“Nothing,” I said. “Go back to bed.”

She looked at Jonathan. “Are you all right?” she asked.

He nodded, smiling at her.

She ran to him and caught his arm. “You look funny.”

“Angry,” he said.

“Not with me?”

“Of course not.”

“With Jessica?”

He shook his head.

“Why is Prue’s blouse torn? Why is she crying?”

“Never mind now.”

She clung to his arm. “Are they trying to hurt you?”

“Yes, they are.”

“I won’t let them.”

“No, of course you won’t.”

“Jonathan,” I said. “Go to your room. You, too, Tamarisk. We’ll meet in the morning. Come along with me, Prue.”

I took her into my room and firmly shut the door.

I said: “We’ll wash your face and tidy you up a bit. Tell me exactly what happened.”

“It was my turn for late duty. I was just going to bed when the bell rang for Mr. Jonathan’s room.”

“Yes?”

“So I went up, Mrs. Barrington.”

“And what happened then?”

“He said. ‘Come in.’ He was in bed. He said, ‘Come over here, Prue.’ So I went to the bed. Then he got hold of me and pulled me down. I knew that I had to get away. I started screaming and fighting. He was very angry. But I got away and ran to Mr. and Mrs. Frenshaw’s room because I reckoned that was where I could be safe from him. They won’t believe me, Mrs. Barrington. They’ll believe him.”

“They’ll want to know the truth and that is what they’ll believe.”

“But I’m only the maid and he … and he … Oh, they won’t believe me. They’ll say I’m a bad girl… They’ll send me away and I won’t get a reference …”

“Now listen to me, Prue. In the morning there’ll be questions. If you answer up truthfully you will be believed.”

She shook her head. “They won’t…”

“Oh yes, they will. Now let us bathe your face.”

She stood still, her face full of misery. I bathed her eyes.

“There,” I said briskly. “That’s better. How badly torn your bodice is. Do you think you could slip into your room without the others noticing?”

She nodded.

“Well, do that. Go quietly. They’ll probably be asleep. And in the morning we’ll sort it all out.”

“It’s no good. What’s my voice against his … He’s one of the family …”

“That won’t make any difference with Mr. Frenshaw. He will find out the truth and see that justice is done.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Barrington,” she said quietly.

I took her to the corridor and watched her go upstairs.

Oh, Jonathan, I thought, how foolish you are!

Next morning there was consternation in the house. Prue had left.

Dot came to tell me, her eyes wide with that excited horror which some people betray when they are the bearers of bad news.

“She’s gone, Mrs. Barrington. Clean gone. Took all her things, she has. We never heard nothing … me and Emily. Her bed wasn’t slept in. I reckon she crept out like … so’s we shouldn’t hear.”

Poor Prue, I thought. She couldn’t face the shame of it. She was so convinced that she would not be believed.

My father was furious when he heard. “I’ve just about had enough of that young man,” he said.

“You haven’t heard the whole story yet,” I reminded him. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”

“A pretty clear conclusion, I would say.”

“On the face of it.”

“You’re standing up for him. Can’t you see he has been caught redhanded this time?”

The scene between him and Jonathan was violent. I thought they might have come to blows. Then my mother went in to intervene.

When Jonathan came out he looked quite unlike himself.

He said to me: “I suppose you share the general view?”

“What’s that?”

“That I tried to rape the girl.”

“Did you?”

“I swear I didn’t.”

“What was she doing in your bedroom?”

“Ask her. She came in. I didn’t send for her.”

“She said you did.”

“Then she’s a liar.”

“Do you mean she just walked in?”

“That’s it. I was half asleep.”

“And … she offered herself?”

“I suppose it was like that. I didn’t have time to think. I was half asleep, I tell you. Jessica, like the rest you won’t believe me, but I’m innocent of this.”

“If you tell me so I’ll believe you, Jonathan.”

“Well, I am telling you.”

“What did she do it for?”

“Ask me something simple.”

“A victim to your fatal charm? She seemed a quiet girl. Shy, they said.”

“They are sometimes the worst… or the best… it depends which way you look at it.”

“Jonathan, this is terrible. You know what my father is like.”

“Not my most devoted admirer at the best of times.”

“The trouble is you are too like him.”

“You would think that would make for understanding. I am sure he was not exactly a paragon of virtue in his young days. What is so maddening, Jessica, is to be blamed for something you haven’t done when I suppose there are so many things for which one could be blamed.”

“This will pass.”

“The wretched girl has gone. I wanted to have it out with her face to face.”

“I wonder why she ran away.”

“Too shy to face the enquiry, they said. Guilty, that’s what.”

“I don’t think they’ll see it like that.”

“You can bet they won’t. I shall be branded yet again.”

“Never mind. It will blow over. These things often do.”

“If I don’t get sent packing in the meantime.”

“Oh no …”

“The old man is in a fury. Just another little nail in the coffin of the heir of Eversleigh. I seem to have some evil spirit dogging me. When you think of that letter some snake sent about my gambling spree … it makes me wonder. And now this.”

“That girl can’t have anything to do with your gambling. And I daresay there are little peccadilloes which don’t always come to light.”

I had managed to produce a smile.

Tamarisk came running up. She seized Jonathan’s arm.

“What are they going to do to you?” she asked.

“Hound me.”

“What’s that?”

“Lining up against me.”

“Who? Jessica?”

“No. Jessica is a pal, I believe.”

“I’m your pal.”

“I know that, Gypsy.”

“I’ll always be your friend and I’ll hate anyone who isn’t.”

“What could be fairer than that!”

“Is it that girl, Prue?”

“She’s gone away,” I said.

“Where to?”

“That is a mystery,” I told her. “Jonathan, go for a ride. There’s nothing like a gallop to take your mind off these things.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Tamarisk.

“All right,” replied Jonathan. “Come on.”

We left London. The affair of Jonathan and Prue had ruined the visit. My father was in a black mood and neither my mother nor I could charm him out of it.

Amaryllis rode over to Grasslands and Peter came with her. It was rarely that I saw them together and rarer still that he had time to pay visits.

Edward was with us in his chair.

James had, some time before, suggested that he occupy a bedroom on the ground floor, so that it would be easy for him to get into the garden if he wished to do so. This had proved to be an excellent idea and it gave Edward opportunities of getting about more easily.

We sat in the drawing room drinking tea.

It was a warm October day and the French windows were wide open. The smell of burning leaves floated in to us and every now and then I saw a man pass to and fro, a long fork in his hand, picking up leaves and conveying them to the bonfire.

This was Toby Mann—a newcomer to the gardening staff. Old Robert, whom the Barringtons had brought with them from Nottingham, had died and Toby had come along at the right moment and taken the job. I had heard he was a very good worker. He did a little boxing and was known as the Champion by the servants. I was thinking of Jake, as I often did, and wondering if he was thinking of me. Was he planning to go to Cornwall? How I wished I could go with him! Should I take Tamarisk for a visit? How could I? It was too far away. If Tamarisk went Leah would have to go with her. That thought filled me with misgivings. Leah had been very fond of Jake. I expected she still was. She was a very beautiful woman and would be single-minded in her devotion.

Amaryllis was talking animatedly about her children and I fancied Peter listened with a kind of indulgent impatience. Perhaps he had heard accounts of their extraordinary prowess before.

He said suddenly: “Poor Jonathan seems a little melancholy these days.”

“It was that affair in London,” said Amaryllis. “You were there, weren’t you, Jessica?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you think your father will send him back to Pettigrew Hall?” asked Peter.

“I don’t think so. It will blow over.”

“There is little sign of it at the moment,” said Amaryllis. “Oh, I do wish they did not have to have all these quarrels.”

“A little discord I suppose is inevitable in the best regulated families,” said Peter. “What was the girl like, Jessica? I don’t remember ever seeing her at the house.”

“You wouldn’t notice her,” said Amaryllis almost teasingly.

“I confess I never did.”

“She hadn’t been there long. I thought she looked quiet and rather shy,” I said.

“And young Jonathan took advantage of that, eh?”

“He swears he didn’t.”

“Well, I suppose he would, wouldn’t he?”

“Not Jonathan. He’s amazingly frank. He told me seriously that she had come into his room of her own accord.”

“Why should she do that?” asked Amaryllis.

“Because, my dear, Jonathan is a very personable young man,” Peter explained. “That’s so, is it not, Jessica?”

“I don’t know much about these matters. If you say so, I suppose it is.”

“Well, his allure got him into serious trouble this time. I somehow don’t think it is going to blow over.”

“He is the heir, after David,” I said.

“Don’t forget we have our little Peterkin now. That has undermined the dashing Jonathan’s claim to the throne somewhat.”

Edward said: “It’s a sad business. From what I understand on the face of it it would seem that he summoned the girl… but things are often not what they seem.”

He was looking ahead of him and I felt a twinge of alarm. I was beginning to look for double meanings in all his remarks.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” put in Peter, “and perhaps it would be a good thing, if Jonathan was asked to slip gracefully out.”

“I agree with Jessica. He is the heir. After all his father would presumably have had a share in Eversleigh had he lived. Jonathan could become quite steady once he has his responsibilities.”

I smiled at Edward. He was so balanced in his judgments, and he always had a special word for the oppressed. It was hard to think of Jonathan in that category, but in this instance he was generally looked upon as the one to blame.

I said: “My mother and I are rather concerned about the girl. We have been wondering where she went when she left the house.”

“Poor child,” said Peter. “I do think this will set his grandfather against Jonathan more than ever.”

Tea was brought. I served our guests and then took Edward’s over to him. He smiled at me tenderly.

There was a little shelf which could be placed across the chair and which we found very useful. This had been set up and I placed the cup on it. But as I turned away my sleeve must have caught in the shelf and the cup went over; the shelf was dragged off the chair. Edward made an effort to save it and fell from the chair to the floor.

I cried out in dismay. Peter dashed over. Edward lay on the floor, looking very pale and I guessed he was in pain.

I said: “Call James. He knows the right way to lift Edward.”

Peter was trying to help Edward to rise and I could see we needed James’ expert hands.

He came to us and his face was creased in consternation when he saw Edward. He half lifted him and then gave a little cry. Edward was back on the floor and James was writhing in agony.

“What’s happened, James?” I asked.

“I’ve strained something. It’s my back. I can’t move without excruciating pain.”