The Song of the Siren

All the time his feeling for me was growing. When he helped me mount he was loathe to let me go and I leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the brow. That seemed to fire both of us. Memories of Beau came sweeping over me. I had thought I had forgotten them with Hessenfield. He had taught me so much about myself. But it seemed I had not forgotten Beau, for whenever I went to Enderby I remembered our meetings there.

I had firmly fixed in my mind the idea that there was a resemblance between Matt and Beau and I wanted to prove to myself that I had forgotten Beau even if I could not forget Hessenfield.

We rode on for a while and then I suggested we tether the horses and sit by the stream.

We did.

I wanted him to hold me, but I was not sure how far I wanted this to go. I did love Benjie in a way but my feeling for him was different from that I had had for Beau and Hessenfield. Benjie was gentle, tender and a good husband. But he did not satisfy my craving for that wild adventurous passion which men like Beau and Hessenfield could give me.

I had not been unfaithful to Benjie ... yet. I now realised that was because there had been no incentive to be. Suddenly, desperately, I wanted Matt Pilkington to be my lover. My reasons were mixed. I needed the wild illicit adventure which I had had from Beau and Hessenfield. I wanted to be dominated, I suppose. Beau had laughed at my innocence and been determined to deflower it; Hessenfield had made it clear that I had no choice. Situations, I suppose, which would have horrified a person like my good little sister, Damaris, but which titillated me.

We sat side by side on the grass. I put my hand over his and said to him: “It’s strange, but when I first saw you I thought I had met you before .. .just for a moment when you stood in the hall.”

“I could not believe you were real,” he said.

“I saw your mother once.. . some time ago. I can’t remember much about her now...except that she was beautiful and elegant and she had masses of red hair.”

“She’s very proud of her hair. I’ll tell her you thought her beautiful and elegant.

That will please her.”

“I hope she wasn’t upset because I decided not to sell Enderby.”

“I think she understood. She has Grasslands now and is very satisfied with that.

It’s a brighter house than Enderby.”

“Did you ever see Enderby?”

“I came to look at it when my mother thought she might buy it. She had the key and took me over.”

A flash of understanding came to me. Of course. I had smelt the musk perfume there.

It was strong stuff and lingered on after whoever was wearing it had gone. And the button which I had thought was Beau’s ... it was Matt’s of course. I had been certain that button was Beau’s. But of course buttons were obviously duplicated, even when they were as valuable as the one which I had found.

It was a mystery cleared up. I almost told him that it was because he had been to Enderby and I had thought he was someone else-a ghost from the past-that I had decided not to sell the house.

But there was time for that later.

I was exerting myself to draw him to me. Although he did not really look so much like Beau, and his character was very different, I kept having flashes of memory when I was with him, and Beau seemed nearer to me than he had for a long time.

And as I sat there beside him I knew that I could let myself believe that Beau had come back. I wanted to test myself, to ask myself whether I still wanted Beau. During those few wildly exciting days I had spent in Hessenfield’s company I had forgotten Beau. I wanted to forget him; I wanted to forget Hessenfield. It sounds hypocritical, really, to say I wanted to be a good wife to Benjie while I was at the same time contemplating breaking my marriage vows.

Harriet had once said: “There are people who disregard the laws laid down for good and honourable behaviour, people who, because of something they possess, think they are above the rules which others obey. You are one of those, Carlotta. ... So was I. We use other people perhaps. It’s unfair because we invariably win in the end.”

Then she smiled and added cryptically, “But who can say what is victory?”

I could have seduced him there and then, but the idea had come to me that it would be more effective if it were in the four—poster bed in Enderby Hall where Beau and I had made love so many times.

I was excited by the prospect. I was aware of the desire in him which could not be quenched by the efforts he was making to suppress it. He did not know that the obstacles to it make it the more enticing. I was a married woman; he was contemplating betrothal to my sister; he had only known me for a day or so. I knew exactly what he was thinking-he was a good man, or he wanted to be, which is perhaps the same thing.

I was neither good nor bad when passion took possession of me; and I was allowing Matt Pilkington to have this effect on me. I wanted to lie on the bed with Matt Pilkington and delude myself briefly into thinking that Beau had returned.