“You … married … Rex.”

“I married him.”

“Secretly!”

“Certainly secretly. We have to placate my obstinate old mother-in-law. We have to make her see what an excellent match her son has made.”

“But you never said so.”

“It had to be a secret, for obvious reasons. We married on the spur of the moment when we knew Rex was going to Australia. That was why I came out, and I couldn’t leave you behind, could I? Everything worked out to suit us, and that’s the way it is going to be in future. Oh Anna, my dearest Anna, you are to me as a sister. I always wanted a sister.”

“You had sisters.”

She grimaced. “We weren’t in tune. You are the sister I want. You have nothing to be afraid of. When Serene Lady comes here I shall go to Sydney and you with me. Rex is there. From Sydney we shall write to tell Lady Crediton that we are married and in time she’ll see reason.”

“And Helena Derringham?”

“She hadn’t a chance once he’d seen me.”

She began to laugh. “There, you’re a witch, Anna. You’ve got the secret out of me. I didn’t intend to tell you yet. You’re so confoundedly analytical. You’ll want to know details of this and that. But I had to comfort you, didn’t I? It seems to be my mission in life. Comforting you!”

I was completely and utterly bewildered.


* * *

I imagined that no sooner had Chantel told me her secret than she regretted it. I must not whisper a word to anyone, she told me. It was our secret and she knew she could trust me.

Of course she could trust me, I retorted.

“We trust each other, Anna,” she said.

“Do we?” I asked.

“You’re thinking that I kept this from you. Only because I had to.”

“In your journal you gave no indication.”

“How could I, when it had to be an absolute secret.”

“But I thought we were to be absolutely truthful to each other.”

“So we were, but this was something I dared not tell. I had sworn to Rex. You understand, Anna?”

I said I did but I was disturbed. There was something else. It was the first time she had admitted that she had fabricated the story of Aunt Charlotte’s being able to walk when impelled by some great desire. It was the very pivot on which the evidence against me had been quashed.

It seemed that I owed her even more than I had believed. And although I knew that she had done it for my sake I was uneasy because she had done it.

I tried to comfort myself. I was getting on with my inventory, and I was watching the calendar as closely as Edward was. I was wondering what was really going to happen when Serene Lady arrived. Chantel was going to join Rex in Sydney; they were going to openly announce their marriage; they were going to write to Lady Crediton. And Chantel would be the future mistress of Castle Crediton.

I thought of her and Rex and why I had not seen his complete absorption in her. They were married; it was for this reason that he could leave her knowing that he would not lose her by doing so. I wondered what Helena Derringham was thinking and if he had confessed to her as Chantel had to me.

I tried to be with her as much as possible. I never went near Monique’s rooms if I could help it. I was always afraid that she would be reminded of her grievance against me and start a scene.

So I asked Chantel to come to my room, which she did often. She would lie on my bed while I sat in the armchair and she would laugh at me and what she called my simplicity which, she hastened to explain, was what she liked.

“How could you bear to be parted all this time from your husband?” I asked.

“Only because there is a fortune at stake. My stern old mother-in-law needs to be wooed. Don’t forget she had chosen Helena Derringham as her daughter-in-law and she hates to be thwarted.”

“And how are you going to pacify her?”

“Rex will do well in Sydney. He will show her that we don’t need the Derringhams. We can do very well without them.”

“He must hate being separated from you. I wonder he agreed to it.”

“He didn’t. He wanted to tell her right away and take the consequences. But I said no. We must not be foolish.”

“And he … obeyed you?”

“Of course.”

“Isn’t that rather … weak?”

“Of course,” she repeated.

“I should have thought you would have loved a strong man.”

“That is where you think along conventional lines, my dear Anna. I could only love a weak man, because I am strong enough for one family.”

I laughed at her. “You always amuse me,” I said. “But I can’t help thinking of your journal. You didn’t tell the truth.”

She lifted a hand. “I swear I told the truth and nothing but the truth. You note the omission. The whole truth. Truth is not a straight line. It’s an enormous globe with hundreds of facets. One of these contained my marriage to Rex. You didn’t see it because it was turned the other way.”

“I can’t believe it, Chantel.”

“My marriage? Why not?”

“You’ll be the mistress of Castle Crediton.”

“I always wanted to be.”

“Was that why … ?”

“Now you are becoming too inquisitive. I’m very satisfied with my husband. When I return to Sydney I shall go to him and we shall write to his Mamma and tell her what has happened. She will be shocked, horrified, and then she will realize that she must be resigned and in a very short time she will be admitting to herself if to no one else that Rex has made the perfect match after all. Imagine me, Anna, seated at the head of the table in black velvet — or perhaps green velvet would be more becoming — sparkling with diamonds. Lady Crediton, for of course he will have his title in due course.”

“So you have decided on that too?”

“I have. And he’ll be a baron. None of your knights. I want my son to be the second baron. I shall learn about the business too, just as my dear Mamma-in-law did. And Anna, my dear Anna, there will always be a home for you at the Castle if you need it.”

“Thank you.”

“And my first duty will be to get you married. I shall give balls for you. You shall be known as my sister. Don’t be afraid that I shall make a poor relation of you. I shall want to make up to you for everything …”

She stopped and smiled at me.

I said: “You are an adventuress, Chantel.”

“What’s wrong with adventure? Sir Francis Drake, Christopher Columbus, they were adventurers and the world applauded them. Why shouldn’t I set out on my own voyage of discovery?”

“You never think that you could possibly fail?”

“Never,” she cried vehemently.

I was glad for her, and I laughed at myself for worrying about her loss of Rex. She was right. I was a simpleton. And she was right when she said that she achieved what she set out to do.

There was one thing I noticed in her conversation though; she always talked as though Redvers did not exist. She was determined to take me out of his reach. Dear Chantel! Her concern for me — while she planned such glorious adventures for herself — was touching.


* * *

It was late afternoon. I had been out for a short walk and had come back to my room to wash before dinner. As soon as I entered the room I had the odd feeling that everything was not as I had left it. Someone had been here. I dusted it myself so there was no need for Pero to come in. What was it? The cushion which had been on the Louis XV chair was now on one of the crude wooden chairs. I had not left it there. I was certain of that because I was always conscious of that chair. So someone had moved it.

It was not important. Pero could have come in, disturbed the cushion and put it back in the wrong place. All these thoughts were passing through my mind as I went to the drawer and, in accordance with my usual custom, felt for Redvers’ letter.

It was not there.

So someone had been in my room! They had disturbed my things. I could tell that because the drawer in which the letter had been was not quite as I had left it. Someone had been in here spying and had found Redvers’ letter.

There could never have been such a revealing letter. I knew it word for word. It was engraved on my memory and would stay so forever.

I went cold at the thought of anyone’s reading that letter.

I went through everything, frantically searching. But I knew it was gone.

I thought of Monique’s reading it. I imagined Suka creeping into my room, searching through my things, taking the letter to her mistress.

What damning evidence! I should have destroyed it.

There was a knock at my door and Chantel came in.

“I thought I heard you come back. Why … what’s wrong?”

“I’ve … I’ve lost something.”

“What?”

I was silent.

“For goodness sake, Anna,” she said sharply, “pull yourself together. What have you lost?”

“A letter,” I told her. “Redvers wrote a letter before he left. It was in this drawer.”

“A love letter?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Good God, Anna,” she said. “What a fool you are. You should have destroyed it.”

“I know, but one doesn’t destroy such things.”

“He had no right to send it.”

“Please, Chantel, let me manage my own affairs.”

“You don’t seem to be able to,” she said angrily. Even she was shaken. “If she has it … then there’ll be trouble.”

“I believe Suka has stolen it. She’ll give it to Monique. And she will think …”

“She may not give it to her.”

“For what other purpose would she take it?”

“How can we know what goes on in that mind of hers? She’s an old witch. Oh Anna, I wish this hadn’t happened.” She bit her lip. “I’ll find out if she has it. And if I find it, Anna, I’m going to tear it up. I’m going to burn it and see the end of it with my own eyes.”

“What shall I do, Chantel?”

“Nothing. We’ll just have to wait. Are you sure you’ve searched everywhere?”

“Everywhere.”

“I wish,” she said, “that we were out of this place. I wish I had you safe in Sydney. For Heaven’s sake don’t give any sign that you’re uneasy. It may be that Suka couldn’t read it. I’m sure she can’t read. If she hasn’t yet given it to Monique, we must get it and destroy it before she does.”

I felt limp with apprehension; but the fact that Chantel knew was of some small comfort.


* * *

That night Monique had a very bad attack and I was certain that she had seen the letter.

I felt sick with anxiety, wondering what would happen next.

I lay in my bed sleepless and it was midnight when the door softly opened and Chantel came in; she was wearing a long white nightdress, her hair loose about her shoulders, a lighted candle in her hand.

“Not asleep?” she said. “Monique’s quiet now.”

“How is she?”

“She’ll recover.”

“Did she … ?”

“See the letter. No. It was nothing to do with that. She worked herself up to a fury because she said Edward never wanted to be with her. She shouted that nobody wanted her and that the sooner she was out of the way the better pleased some people would be.”

“It’s terrifying, Chantel.”

“It’s typical. She talked about you, too. She said you usurped her place and when the Captain returned she would not be here because she planned to kill herself.”

“She said that again?”

“She’ll say it again and again and again, you’ll see. It’s becoming a parrot cry. Don’t take it to heart.”

“And when she sees that letter …”

“Clearly Suka has it.”

“Why should she keep it?”

“Perhaps she thinks it some sort of spell. We have to stop her showing it to Monique. If she did show it all hell would be let loose. I suppose it’s no use my telling you to sleep.”

“I’m afraid it’s not.”

“Well, remember this. In a few weeks we shall be in Sydney. It’s not long now, Anna.”

And that was my comfort.

22

All through the day I could hear the sound of distant drums. They unnerved me. They seemed to me as though they heralded some fearful climax. It was a week since I had lost the letter and Monique had given no sign that she had seen it. Chantel said that she had searched her room and it was not there. Suka must have it — that was unless I had put it somewhere else.