Lament for a lost lover

“How interesting,” I said mildly, determined not to show that I was disturbed, because I felt he was leading to something.

“Now and then,” he went on, “we throw up a paragon. My uncle - Edwin’s father, who is now in Cologne with the King-is of a different calibre. Devoted to duty and faithful to his wife. Something of a phenomenon in the Eversleigh family.”

“I am glad of that.”

I thought you would be, and I am glad to have an opportunity to talk to you. I daresay you will be leaving soon. It may well be within three or four days. We shall bring back Tom, who will be thought to have the money from Chester, and then you’ll ride away and we’ll arrange to get you across to France again ... your little adventure over. I admire your courage in coming and your devotion to your husband.”

“It was Harriet who thought of it.”

He smiled slowly and nodded. “Oh, yes. I guessed that.” Then he looked at me, and I could scarcely believe it but there was a hint of gentleness in his eyes. But I immediately told myself I must have imagined that. I stood up; and this time he did not attempt to detain me. I went to my room, for neither Edwin nor Harriet were in, and I thought for a long time about that encounter. I was sure it meant something, but I was far from sure what.

Chastity was becoming very fond of me. She followed me round and before I realized it we were playing games together. Poor little Chastity had never known what it meant to laugh and be merry before. I couldn’t help it. I would take her some way from the house and play games with her. Alas, once we came too near the stables and Jasper heard our laughter. He came out, snatched up Chastity and carried her into the house, pausing only to dart a look of black suspicion at me.

When I next saw Ellen she told me that Jasper was very displeased. I replied that surely there was nothing sinful in a little childish high spirits. “You should have been teaching her the word of God not to be making a mockery of godliness.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” I protested. “It was a simple game of hide-and-seek.

She was enjoying herself for once and ...”

“Jasper says we were not put on this earth to enjoy ourselves, mistress. Jasper says he don’t know what sort of place you come from, but he reckons Chester must be a wicked place for you to carry on as you do.”

I thought of poor little Chastity, who was no doubt being punished for enjoying a brief period of innocent pleasure, and I forgot caution in my anger.

“Oh yes,” I cried, “it’s Sodom and Gomorrah all over again.” She stared at me, her hands lifted above the bowl dripping flour into it. I flounced out of the room. I wondered what Jasper would make of that.

The next day Chastity came up to my room. I was there alone, mending one of my petticoats which I had caught on a bramble bush the day before.

Chastity crept in furtively. She was a bright-eyed, pretty little creature, and there was the faintest touch of defiance in her eyes, and I imagined she had been told to keep away from me. She had learned that there was something else in life besides prayers that went on for so much of the day, and sewing garments that must not be pretty since beauty was sin, and learning the Scriptures off by heart and being shut in her room to commune with God on her sins.

For a brief while she had laughed and played games that did not have to improve the mind; she had acted just for the joy of being alive. And she had a will of her own. “Chastity,” I whispered, and I couldn’t help sounding conspiratorial. “Mistress Bella!” she cried and ran to me, burying her face in my lap and then looking up to smile-I must admit rather mischievously-at me.

“You’re not supposed to be here, you know,” I said.

She nodded laughing.

“I suppose I should tell you to go.”

“You should take me down to my mother and tell her that I have been wicked,” she said soberly. “But you won’t, will you?” She looked at the closed door. “Nobody knows,” she went on. “If anyone comes I’ll hide.” She ran to the cupboard, opened it and stood inside. Then she came out flushed with laughing.

She looked so pretty and so different from the poor little suppressed child I had seen when I arrived that I wanted to snap my fingers at the Puritans and let her be happy.

She came over to me and looked at the petticoat in my hand. It was a little too elaborate for a Puritan woman. It occurred to me then that we had not really been thorough enough. Of course we hadn’t. Harriet and I had not been part of the plan. We had broken into it, disrupting it.