“Clare, Clare, what are you saying?”

“That you and your lover between you killed Edward.”

“It’s not true. I wouldn’t have hurt him for …”

“Wouldn’t you? When you had your lover staying in this very house?”

“There is so much that you don’t know.”

“And so much I do, eh? Don’t imagine I shall stand by and let you get away with this. I am going to show them at the inquest. I am going to give them proof.”

“It is no proof.”

“It is proof that two people in this house wanted Edward dead, and both of those people were with him on the night. They both had an opportunity of putting the dose into the water.”

“Clare, this is madness.”

“It sounds like common sense to me.”

With that she went out and left me.

I lay down. So she had the letters and she would show them. Jake and I would be exposed as having had a motive for murder. I would never have hurt Edward willingly. But Jake?

There was no sleep for me all through the night.

I rose early next morning. I went to the stables and saddled a horse. I had to get out of the house. I had to be alone to think. I rode down to the sea and galloped along the shore. There was no joy in the exercise on that morning. One thought was hammering in my mind; Clare had the letters. She it was who had stolen them. I had guessed correctly.

I could not face Jake yet. I was too much afraid of what I would discover.

There was one to whom I had turned during the whole of my life when I was in trouble: My mother.

I left the shore and rode to Eversleigh.

She expressed no surprise to see me. I said: “I have to talk to you at once … alone.”

“Of course,” she said.

She took me into the little sitting room which led from the hall. She shut the door and said: “No one will come here.”

I told her everything—that Jake and I were lovers. I told her of my remorse and my determination not to hurt Edward.

She nodded, understanding.

She said: “It was natural, Jessica. You cannot be blamed.”

But when I told her of the letters which had been written by Jake and stolen by Clare, she was very grave.

“It was clear from what he had written that we had been lovers,” I told her, “that he was impatient and wanted me to go away with him. She threatens to produce them and use them against me.”

My mother was silent. I could see that she was very disturbed.

“I’m afraid,” I concluded. “It will appear that either Jake or I… or the two of us together … planned to kill Edward.”

“Those letters must not be seen by anyone else,” she said.

“Clare has always hated me. She loved Edward and hoped to marry him. Perhaps if it were not for me she might have done so. She will never forgive me, and now she sees this chance …”

“It’s got to be stopped.”

“She is determined.”

“We must get hold of those letters before the inquest,” said my mother firmly.

“She will never give them up.”

She said then what she had always said in the past and which I had often laughed at: “I’ll talk to your father.”

I did not laugh now.

She went on: “My dear, you should go back to Grasslands now. I am going to suggest that Jake comes over to Eversleigh. It would be better that he is not in the house with you. We’ll explain that as things are it is better for him to be with us. Tamarisk is here, and Jonathan is being very good and giving her a lot of attention. It is not right for children to know too much of these things. The Barringtons will be here soon. Clare will be in the house of course. I hope she will not give too much trouble.”

I clung to her. She kissed me and said: “Everything will be all right. Your father and I will see to that.”

Jake saw the point of staying at Eversleigh. I did not have a chance to speak to him alone before he went. I did not seek it. If I had been alone with him I should have had to ask him outright if he had killed Edward, and I was afraid of the answer.

Mr. and Mrs. Barrington arrived. Their daughter Irene and her husband came with them. They had left the children with their paternal grandparents. They were heartbroken. Mrs. Barrington clung to me and wept.

Later we talked together. She said: “He was so noble, my dear Edward. He was always such a good boy, so thoughtful to others … always. When you married him he could not believe his good fortune. Poor dear boy! That he should be the one to suffer from those wicked men! But then you showed your love for him as few would have done, and I shall never forget it. You made him so happy. I blessed the day when you came into his life.”

I thought: Clare will talk to her. Clare will produce the letters. What will she think of me then? What would she say had she known that I had broken my marriage vows? She would have a different opinion of me then.

My parents came to Grasslands. They did not talk a great deal about the tragedy. In fact my father scarcely mentioned it except once when he said: “Poor Edward, he could see no future for himself. I would have been the same. Better to get out than the way it was.”

He had made up his mind that Edward had killed himself and he was the sort of man who would make sure that everyone agreed with him.

It would be different at the inquest. I had never been to an inquest and was unsure of the procedure, but I did know that the verdict was all-important, and it would be decided whether or not this was a case of suicide, accidental death or a case of murder against some person or persons unknown. And if the latter a trial would follow.

It was the day before that fixed for the inquest. My mother sent a message to Grasslands asking me to come over to Eversleigh.

I went immediately.

It was late afternoon and the house was quiet. She was waiting for me in the hall. She said: “Jonathan has taken Tamarisk for a ride. Jake has gone with them.”

“What has happened?”

“Come up to our bedroom,” she said. “Your father is there.”

“Something has happened. Do tell me.”

“Yes. You can trust your father to act.”

He was there in the bedroom and to my surprise Mrs. Barrington was with him. She kissed me warmly. “I expect you are surprised to see me here,” she said.

My father put his arms round me and kissed me.

“Sit down,” he said. “Everything is going to be all right. The inquest is tomorrow and there is going to be a verdict of suicide.”

“How?” I stammered.

“I’ve talked to Jake. I know he had no hand in Edward’s death.”

“How can you know?”

“Because he said so. I know men. I know he would not have been such a fool as to do a thing like that. He was confident of getting Edward’s understanding and you your freedom.”

“He had not spoken to Edward!”

“No, but he intended to.”

“Then how do you know … ?”

“Toby has told me that Edward spoke to him two nights before his death. He said he thought there was little point in his going on living. He said, ‘I am sometimes tempted to slip in an extra dose. That would finish the job and I’d slip quietly away.’ That will be important evidence and Toby will give it. There will be no one who had the slightest reason for wanting Edward’s death.”

I said: “What of the letters?”

My father put his hand in his pocket and drew out two sheets of paper. I snatched them from him.

“Where did you get them?”

“I have them. That’s the important part. I wanted you to be here … to be sure. These are the letters?”

“Why yes. But I don’t understand …”

There was a lighted candle on the dressing table. I had vaguely wondered why it was there as it was not dark. He took the letters from me and held them out to the flame. We watched them burn.

“There!” said my mother, blowing out the candle. “That is an end of that.”

“Did Clare give them up?” I asked.

My mother shook her head. “I took Mrs. Barrington into my confidence. When I explained everything to her she understood …”

She smiled at Mrs. Barrington who said: “Yes, Jessica my dear, I understood. You brought great happiness to my son. He was never so happy as he was through you. I am for ever grateful. Your mother made me see that you loved this man, and he you… and I love you all the more for not leaving Edward but staying by his side. I want to help you. Clare can be of a jealous nature. She was always a difficult child, always looking for slights. Edward could manage her better than the rest of us, and she was very fond of him. I did think at one time that they might have married… but it turned out otherwise, and he was so happy with you. I wanted to help, so when I knew there were incriminating letters I was determined to find them.

“Clare has a very special box which Edward once gave her. It was on her fourteenth birthday. It was very precious to her. In it she kept her treasures. Clare is a creature of habit. She always kept the key to that box on a key-ring—another present of Edward’s—and it was kept in the third drawer of her dressing table. I guessed that the letters would be in that box and I knew where the key was. Poor Clare, she has always been an unhappy girl. She came to us when she was seven. She was a distant cousin’s child. Her parents had been poor. Her mother had died and her father had very little time for her. He was glad when we offered to take her. She was an envious child. Perhaps if her life had been different, she would have been. She always had to remember misfortunes and thought other people should suffer as she had. The only time she was really happy was when she was with Edward. It might well be that he would have married her if you hadn’t come along. People drift into these things. I think she would have been a different girl if he had. Well, I knew of the box and I knew of the key. I chose an opportunity when she was out. It was quite simple. I went into her room. I took the key and opened the box and, as I expected, there were the letters. I brought them to your mother.”

“You have done this … for me?” I cried.

“How can we ever thank you,” said my mother warmly.

“I knew in my heart that it was what Edward would have wanted. The last thing he would have wished would have been for you, Jessica, to be unhappy. So I am doing this for Edward as well as for you.”

My father said: “This will make all the difference. There will be no accusation now.”

My relief was so intense that I could not speak.

My father took my arm and led me to a chair. I sat down beside my mother and she put an arm round me.

“This will pass, my darling,” she said. “Soon it will be like some hazy nightmare … best forgotten.”

I went back to Grasslands. I should have been easier in my mind but the gloom had returned to hang over me. I felt as though I were groping in the dark and at any moment would come upon a terrible discovery.

I wanted to see Jake … desperately I wanted to. I wanted to talk to him … to ask him questions, to beg him to tell me the truth. I did not think he would lie to me. Did he hold life cheaply? Once he had killed a man and felt no remorse for that. What sort of life had he led on that convict ship? He must have seen death and horror in various forms. Did that harden a man? Make him hold life cheap? Make him determined to get what he wanted no matter the cost?

Yes, I wanted to see him and I dared not see him.

As I approached the house I noticed a rider coming towards me. It was Peter Lansdon, one of the last people I wanted to see at that moment.

“Jessica!” he cried.

“Hello.”

“Amaryllis is coming over to see you. She’s very anxious about you. You look drawn. This is a terrible business.”

I was silent.

“Have you just come from Eversleigh?” he asked. “I suppose the parental wits are being exercised to fullest capacity.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“This kind of situation … it’s always difficult for the spouse in the case. It’s a commentary on marriage, I suppose, that when a man or woman dies mysteriously, the first suspect is the wife or husband.”

I hated him, with his cool supercilious eyes. How could Amaryllis love such a man? How could I myself have ever considered him romantically?

He was a man who could change his personality as easily as most changed their clothes. It was the secret of his success.

“I have no doubt,” he went on, “that your parents will extricate you from any difficult situation in which you find yourself. How fortunate you are to have a father who is not only doting and determined to save his daughter from any predicament into which she may project herself, but has the influence to do something about it!”