Philippa Carr - The Return of the Gypsy

“Tamarisk!” I shouted. “Where are you going?”

I pushed open the door and went in. There was a hall carpeted in glowing red. The walls were plain white. A man was seated at a desk, staring after Tamarisk’s flying figure.

“Where are you … ?” he was beginning when he saw me … I ignored him. My eyes were on Tamarisk who was disappearing through a door which led from the hall. I followed.

There were people in the room—two men and several women. I stared in bewildered amazement. One of those women was our one-time parlourmaid, Prue Parker. But what a different Prue Parker! Her face was delicately painted and she was smartly dressed in a light navy coat trimmed with fur; her gloves were a delicate grey which matched her shoes. I realized that she was the woman whom Tamarisk had been following.

That was not all. The girl beside her was not unknown to me. On the other occasion when I had seen her she had been pretending to be blind. Yes, there with Prue Parker was the girl who had led me to that empty house.

But the greatest shock of all was the sight of the man who had risen from his chair and was staring at us as though he could not believe his eyes.

It was Peter Lansdon.

There was a silence, which seemed to go on for a long time. It was as though neither of us could believe what we saw and were trying to come to understanding in our bewildered minds.

He spoke first. “Jessica?” he murmured.

I did not answer. I looked from him to those two women.

“How … how did you get in here?” he stammered.

“We walked in,” I said.

“It’s no place for you.”

“No. I daresay not.”

“There are explanations I must give you.”

“Indeed … yes.”

He came towards me, quite calm now. Everyone else in the room was silent.

“I’ll take you and Tamarisk home,” he said.

Tamarisk cried: “I want to take her back.” She pointed at Prue. “She lied. She was the one … not Jonathan.”

“Yes, yes,” said Peter soothingly. “I’ve discovered everything. I’ll take you back and tell you all about it. Come along, both of you.”

I was summing up the situation. He was involved in this. He knew the blind girl; he knew Prue; he knew these clubs. They were not ordinary clubs, after all. Strange things went on in them. What had I stumbled on?

He took Tamarisk and me by our arms.

Tamarisk was shouting: “You’ve got to tell them. You’ve got to tell Grandpa Frenshaw. It wasn’t Jonathan. It was Prue. She ought to come back with us. She ought to confess.”

“Leave it to me,” said Peter. “I’ll explain everything. Jonathan shall be cleared.”

That satisfied Tamarisk.

I was silent, bewildered and incredulous.

We came out into the street.

He said: “I found the girl. I was trying to help her. She planned the whole thing … to compromise Jonathan. She had blackmail in mind of course.”

“It’s all right now,” said Tamarisk. “I wish Jonathan were here. When can we go home and tell him, and tell them all. I found her. Wasn’t it clever of me? I recognized her by the way she walked … because she looked different, didn’t she? But I knew her.”

We came to the house. Tamarisk ran in at once to tell David and Claudine what had happened.

They listened in a somewhat bewildered fashion while Peter explained calmly that he had discovered Prue Parker and confronted her. She admitted she was trying to compromise Jonathan so that she could extract money from him. Then she became frightened and had run away. Peter said he believed he was going to save her from a shameful existence. He had already found a post for her in a respectable household and had arranged to meet her at the club where she worked to tell her of her good fortune. He was there for this purpose when we burst in on them.

“I saw her,” repeated Tamarisk. “I recognized her, Jessica, didn’t I?”

“You were very sharp, Tamarisk.”

After they had marvelled at the story Claudine said she and David had to call on the Mattons, who particularly wanted to meet Tamarisk. “Will you come with us, Jessica?” asked Claudine.

I said I would prefer to stay at home.

So they went off and as soon as they had gone Peter came to my room.

He stood looking at me almost slyly and then said: “Well?”

“Are there any warehouses?” I asked. “Is there any importation of rum and sugar?”

“There are as a matter of fact.”

“And your main business, I believe, is in another kind of house. Not exactly a warehouse. Do they call them whorehouses?”

“An unpleasant term I always thought.”

“Why did you want to see me?”

“I have to discover to what conclusions you have come.”

“I have been thinking a great deal… over our acquaintance, and certain things seem to be becoming clear to me. I hope you have not prepared some intricate fabrication for I shall not believe it.”

“I know that. You are very shrewd. I soon became aware of that. I can see the intricate fabrication would soon be pierced by your astuteness, so therefore it would be a waste of time to manufacture it.”

“I believe you are a scheming adventurer.”

“There is no point in denying it.”

“You came into my family because you knew there was money there.”

He nodded.

“I suppose the inn meeting was a chance one?”

“Yes. There I learned who your father was, and also a great deal about the family from the innkeeper.”

“I see, and you decided that his daughter would be a worthy wife. How could you make your entry? My father is a rather suspicious man with many interests in London. Is that how you figured it out?”

“But of course.”

“So we had the little blind girl episode. One of your girls from your warehouses?”

“We were moving out of the premises. That gave us the venue, you might say.”

“What a convenient coincidence that you were there that day with your decoy.”

“Oh, we had waylaid you several times. We were waiting for the opportunity.”

“It was an unusual beginning, designed of course to earn our gratitude. Having succeeded in that you started to pay court.”

“It was very agreeable. I have always found you attractive.”

“Thank you. But you turned to Amaryllis.”

“You were too lively … too inquisitive. I thought you would very quickly start to pry.”

“And Amaryllis was docile so you chose her.”

“And in pique you turned to the gentleman who is now your husband. Hard luck you should go on with the game after he was injured. But that was your own fault.”

“And having charge of Amaryllis’ fortune, you are increasing your holdings in your apparently very prosperous business?”

“It is indeed profitable. Amaryllis has increased her fortune since marrying me.”

“It is still her fortune, is it?”

“I have been very careful about that. I have used her money, but not taken it. If your father… or any of the family… decided they would look into my affairs they could not default me. I am in the clear.”

“How worthy of you! I wonder what Amaryllis would say if she knew for what purpose her money is being used.”

“She will never know. She is a completely contented wife and mother. It is better she remains so.”

“I think I would rather know what is going on around me. I know why Jonathan was led to Frinton’s. I know where the anonymous letter came from. And then you staged that little affair with Prue Parker. You are determined to discredit Jonathan in my father’s eyes.”

“Well, we have Peterkin now. A male heir right in line. I’ll see that he makes a better job of Eversleigh than Jonathan would.”

I cried: “It’s monstrous! And to think Tamarisk was the one to expose you!”

“That child is a nuisance. She always has been. Let’s hope she goes off with her father.”

“You amaze me,” I said. “You are so indifferent. You don’t mind being exposed.”

“Not by you.”

“What do you mean? You wouldn’t want my father to know the manner in which you make your fortune. You are a procurer. I always thought that was one of the worst things to be. You won’t want my father to know about those tricks you played on Jonathan.”

“I certainly would not.”

“And yet… you seem to think your secrets are safe with me!”

“They are.”

“What do you think my father will say when he knows you deliberately brought Prue into the house, sent her to Jonathan’s room and made her feign that attempted rape scene?”

“He would be horrified of course, but he won’t hear of it, will he? He will be told that by one of those queer quirks of coincidence—which happen more in life than people realize—I discovered Prue Parker walking the streets. I was horrified, for after all she had such a short time ago been a servant in the family house. I questioned her; she confessed that she had attempted to compromise Jonathan and demand money. She knew that he was already in his grandfather’s bad books and had a great deal to lose. It went wrong. Jonathan wouldn’t play, so she pretended he had attacked her. She became frightened by what she had done and fearing exposure ran away. She was without work and there was nothing for her but the streets. She was attached to that club where you discovered us, and when I had found a post of parlourmaid in a respectable household I went along to the club to find her. Then you and Tamarisk burst in.”

“And you think I will allow you to get away with this?”

“You must, mustn’t you?”

“Why should I? How do I know what other schemes you have. I think Amaryllis should know how her money is being used. I think my family should know. After all, you are a member of that family now.”

“But nobody must be allowed to bring disgrace on the family.”

“You already have. It was an ill day when you came into it.”

“We all have our weaknesses. You too, Jessica. This is going to be our little secret.”

“You presume too much.”

“I have justification. Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone.”

I was silent. A terrible fear was beginning to grip me.

“You certainly, my dear Jessica, are not without sin. What of this passionate love affair with the fascinating Sir Jake?”

I felt myself flushing hotly. I stammered: “What… what do you mean?”

“I have been frank with you. You must be with me. Do you think I don’t know what is going on? You and the handsome gentleman are lovers, are you not? You visit his house … alone. You spend several hours there. You see, Jessica, it ill behooves any of us to pass judgment on the rest of us.”

I could see his smiling face through a haze of wretchedness. My secret was in the hands of this evil man.

“Sit down,” he said. “You’ve had a shock. I was aware some time ago of the feeling between you. You couldn’t disguise it from me. You have the glow of love upon you, Jessica. Oh, I thought, I must be watchful of this. I am always eager for scraps of information. One never knows how useful they will be. And now here is this. One of my people has been set to watch you.”

“You mean I’ve been followed!”

“To and from the little love nest. Naughty Jessica! But understandable, of course. I’m not blaming you and I shall keep your secret… as long as you keep mine.”

“And if I don’t?”

“It would be rather sad for that kind husband of yours to know that when his wife comes to London it is to be with her lover. You would not want that?”

I was silent. I felt as though the walls of the room were closing in on me. I wanted to shout out to him to go away. He terrified me. He had changed a little. His face had become evil. He was like someone who had removed the mask he had been wearing and now showed himself for what he really was.

He was smiling at me cynically, sardonically, horribly.

“That’s our little bargain,” he said. “You don’t tell on me and I don’t tell on you.”

He came close to me, took my arm and brought his face near to mine. “Remember,” he said. “One word from you and I shall go straight to your husband and tell him of those jolly little occasions in Blore Street. Do you understand, Jessica?”

I nodded dumbly. Then I wrenched myself away and ran from the room.

I WAS BACK AT Grasslands. I had not had a moment’s peace since that interview with Peter Lansdon. I saw Jake only once before we returned. I dared not tell him what had happened for fear of what action he would take. It was blackmail of a sort. I was as guilty as Peter himself. If he were blackmailing me I was blackmailing him.