Виктория Холт - Time of the Hunter’s Moon

"So they are dependent on you for their livelihood?"

"On the estate rather than on me. I just happen to have inherited it. The Verringers have always taken their duties to the estate seriously, and although I say it of my own family, we have been good land-lords. We have made it a duty to care for our people. That is why the cider factory was started about a hundred years ago. We'd had several bad harvests and lots of the farms were not paying their way. It looked as though there would not be enough work for a number of people. The cider factory seemed a good idea. Most of them were making it in their own homes, so we started it and we employ about a hundred people in the neighbourhood."

"You are in a way the benefactors."

"We always liked to think of ourselves as such." "The people should be grateful."

"Grateful. Only fools expect gratitude."

"I see the cynic has reappeared."

"If truth is cynicism then he is never far away. I always like to face the facts. It is a peculiar trait of human nature that people dislike those who help them."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes, my dear Cordelia. Just consider it. Who have always been the Verringers' bitterest enemies? Our own people on the estate. Who have endowed us with satanic qualities? The very same. Mind you, I am not saying that we do not possess those devilish habits, but it is our own people who are our own most vicious critics and, when our exploits are not startling enough, magnify them. The fact is, people hate feeling they owe anything to anyone, and although they take help, they hate themselves for being in a position to have to take it. As it is the hardest thing on Earth to hate oneself, that hatred is transferred to the helper."

I was silent. I thought of Mrs. Baddicombe who owed her living to the fact that she had been appointed postmistress by the Verringer estate and could not hide the venom in her voice when she discussed them.

"Perhaps you are right ... in some cases," I said. "But not all."

"No one is ever right in all cases. There must be exceptions."

We smiled at each other and I felt a glow of happiness. I was glad that the girls had gone off to try the horses and I was hoping that they would not return just yet.

"It is a pleasure to be able to talk to you reasonably .... seriously. In the past our encounters have been verbal battles. Amusing, stimulating, but this is a great pleasure to me. I want to talk to you about the estate. How I want to improve it. What plans I have for it."

"I doubt I should understand them."

"That's why I want to talk to you ... to make you understand ... and to tell you about my life and myself. Do you know, this has been one of the happiest afternoons I have ever known." I laughed. He had broken the spell. "That is going too far," I said.

"You laugh. But it is not so. I have had moments in the past when I am happy. But happiness is just moments, isn't it? From the time I came into this room and found you here, I have been happy. That must have been for twenty minutes. That's quite a stretch."

"It seems a very short time to me."

"I knew it would be good to talk to you. I knew you would understand. You make me see life differently. I wish we could meet often."

"That would not be easy. Miss Hetherington would be most disapproving."

"For Heaven's sake why?"

"I am employed by her and it would not be seemly for one of her mistresses to be too friendly with someone of the opposite sex living in the neighbourhood, particularly..."

"A man of my reputation. I doubt Mrs. Baddicombe would approve either. But then what a scoop for her!"

We were laughing again.

"Cordelia," he said seriously, "you know I am falling in love with you."

I stood up, but he was beside me. He put his arms round me and kissed me. I was trying to force myself to struggle free and not to accept the fact that I wanted to stay close to him.

"This must not be," I began.

"Why not?"

"Because I am not ..."

"I love you Cordelia. It started the moment I saw you in the driving seat with Emmet."

"I must go. Oh, where are those girls?"

As though in answer to my question I heard their voices. I withdrew myself and went to the window. I said: "They are coming."

"We'll talk more of this," he said.

I shook my head.

"Think about me," he said.

"I can scarcely avoid doing that."

"Try to understand. I want a happy family life. I have never had one. My frustrations, my disappointments have made me what I am. I want to be different." He was speaking earnestly now. "I want to live my life here, with my wife and the children we shall have. I want to make the estate the best in the country and above all I want to live at peace."

"I think your desires for these things are very natural but ..."

"Then help me to achieve them. Marry me!" "Marry you! But a short while ago you were about to marry Marcia Martindale."

"No. That was the Baddicombe version."

"You can't be serious. You are amusing yourself at my expense."

"I am serious."

"No ... not with Mrs. Martindale living so close ... I know very well that you and she ..."

The girls burst into the room.

Eugenie looked radiant. "They are superb, Uncle Jason," she cried. "I tried them both."

"Have we been too long," asked Fiona.

"No. You could have stayed longer," he said ironically.

"I'm gasping for tea," said Eugenie.

"Then ring for it," he said.

She did and it came; and Fiona poured out. Eugenie talked all the time about the horses, but I was not listening and I was sure he was not either.

I was wildly exhilarated and horribly sceptical as we rode back to school. Eugenie was still talking about the horses and said she was going to take Charlotte Mackay over to see them.

I spent a sleepless night trying to remember everything he had said. Had he really been serious? I kept seeing his face alight with enthusiasm. I thought of the way in which his eyebrows turned up slightly at the ends; the way his dark hair sprang from his rather high forehead; the brilliance of his eyes when he talked of love.

How did I feel? I could not exactly say. I was too bewildered. All I knew was that I wanted to be with him, that I had never felt so excited in my life as I had been sitting close to him, listening to his enthusiasm for the Abbey; and then when he had kissed me I had been quite unprepared.

He was very experienced; he would know what effect he had on me. Whereas I had never known anything like this before.

I was able to stand up to him in our verbal battles and that was because I had always found it easy to express myself lucidly. After all, wasn't I teaching English? It was when it came to understanding my emotions that I was a novice.

I must curb my elation. I must remind myself that he probably talked to every woman he was trying to seduce as he had to me. I was very well aware of his intentions and I must be careful.

The next day Daisy called me to her room to ask how the meeting went.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to you last night," she said, "but I gathered all went well."

"Oh yes, very well. He really wants to help with the Abbey pageant. He showed me some interesting maps and he is certainly knowledgeable about the history of the Abbey. I really think he wants to make sure we don't commit any anachronisms."

"Did he say anything about the costumes?"

"He may have mentioned them. I think he will be very happy to lend them."

"So we misjudged him really."

"Well, the girls did go off to look at horses." "So you were alone with him?"

"Not for long. That was when he showed me the maps and books."

She nodded. "By the way," she said, "something rather interesting has turned up. You know I was looking for a maid since Lizzie Garnett left last term."

"Oh yes. Have you got someone?"

"Yes, and the strange thing is that she was at Schaffenbrucken."

"Oh!"

"That was why I selected her. I had one or two to choose from. You know I put an advertisement in the Lady's Companion. I didn't have many letters. Most of them couldn't put pen to paper if they tried. It may be that those who can write wouldn't make the best maids. However, I liked the sound of this letter and the fact that she had worked at Schaffenbrucken I must admit interested me and decided me in her favour. I wonder if you knew her."

"What is her name?"

"Elsa something. Yes ... Elsa Kracken."

"Elsa," I said. "There was a maid called Elsa. But then it is a fairly common name. I don't think I ever heard her surname."

"It will be amusing if you knew her from Schaffenbrucken."

"Is she English?"

"She wrote in English. The name doesn't sound quite ..."

"Elsa," I said. "Yes ... she was rather a talkative girl ... not much of a servant but everybody liked her."

"I thought she wrote a good letter."

"When does she arrive?"

"At the end of the week."

I was thoughtful. The conversation had brought back memories of Schaffenbrucken. It was Elsa who had told us about the legend of Pilcher's Peak and that if we went out at the time of Hunter's Moon we should meet our future husbands.

It would be quite a coincidence if she should be the one. But it might well be another Elsa.

It was not long before I met her. I was coming upstairs and there she was coming down. "Elsa!" I cried. "It is you, then."

She turned so white I thought she was going to faint. She clutched at the bannister and stared at me. I might have been a ghost.

"Cordelia Grant. We met at Schaffenbrucken." "Cordelia Grant." She whispered my name. "Why ... of course."

"I confess I am not so surprised as you are," I said. "Miss Hetherington did tell me that someone named Elsa was coming and that she had worked at Schaffenbrucken. I thought of you, but didn't really believe it possibly could be."

The colour was returning to her face. She was smiling and looked more like the jolly girl I had known.

"Well, fancy that. The age of miracles is not past. What are you doing here?"

"Working," I told her. "I'm teaching."

"Oh, but I thought ..."

"It all changed. When I left school I had to find a post. My aunt knew Miss Hetherington and I came here."

"Well, I never did!"

She started to laugh. "They were good days at Schaffenbrucken," she said.

"Oh yes. You remember the girls ..."

"Your special friends. There was that French girl and the German girl and that Lydia ... wasn't that her name?"

"Yes, I think Frieda and Monique will be leaving this year. Probably have left by now. I wrote to Lydia but I didn't hear from her."

"Too busy with her affairs, I daresay."

" Pell, she left Schaffenbrucken soon after I did, I gathered."

"Oh, did she now?"

"But Elsa, where have you sprung from?"

"I came to England. I left the term after you did. I got a job over here ... that didn't last so long and then I applied for this. What a life!"

"Miss Hetherington is rather particular. You'll have to do your work properly."

"Do you mean I didn't at Schaffenbrucken?"

I only remember your doing a lot more talking than anyone else."

"Oh, this is like the old days. I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you."

"You looked as if you'd seen a ghost a moment ago."

"I was shaken all of a heap, as they say. It was such a surprise. Now I'm realizing what a nice one it is."

"We1l, I shall be seeing you about, Elsa."

"I'm looking forward to getting to know the girls. It was you girls that I liked at Schaffenbrucken.

"Miss Hetherington won't want you to be too friendly with them."

Elsa winked at me and went on downstairs.

Sir Jason sent a message over to the school to say that he had discovered some very interesting information which he thought would be very useful when compiling the commentaries for the pageant.

If Miss Grant would care to come over he would be delighted to show them to her.

Daisy called me to her study to tell me. She immediately noticed my embarrassment.

She said: "I think you ought to go, but take Miss Barston with you. I do think he is trying to become too friendly and one has to be careful. I haven't told you about Miss Lyons, have I? That was some years ago. She was a pretty dainty little thing. She taught dancing-that was before Mr. Bathurst's time. Sir Jason noticed her. I don't know what happened. He pursued her a bit and the poor child was most unworldly. She must have believed all he told her. She was very unhappy when she discovered the sort of relationship he was after. Of course his fancy for her was only passing. You and I know what such men are, but poor Hilda Lyons believed in beautiful romance. She became quite depressed and almost suicidal. I had to send her away-and in the middle of term! You are a different kettle of fish." She smiled with rare humour. "Not that I am really comparing you with that useful object. It is just in the nature of the metaphor. I know you will take great care. He has a fancy for you but you are not in the least like poor Hilda ... or that Martindale woman for that matter. He evidently likes variety and has all his lines in the river at once ... if you know what I mean."