“It could have been for poor little Edward.”
“Well, it wasn’t. And Grandpère Bourdon didn’t think it was so strange. He said it happens here and there in families and the best thing is to get over it with as little fuss as possible. Lucinda, promise me, you’ll never mention it again…to anyone.”
“I promise. I kept quiet before and perhaps, it has turned out for the best. Edward is happy here. He has a good home and he’ll be all right.”
“Then it is happily settled, isn’t it? He’s all right. That’s all that matters.”
“Yes,” I said. “I suppose so.”
She was looking happy again and I was sorry I had said what I had. That was how it was with Annabelinda. I might rail against her one moment, and the next I would be trying to placate her.
She came over and kissed me. “I know I can always rely on you, Lucinda.”
“Well, I suppose you can.”
After she left, I could not stop myself from thinking of Marcus. I was not really surprised that it had turned out this way.
I did wonder whether at one time he had begun to care seriously for me. With Marcus one would never know. As for Annabelinda, she would go through life untroubled, I suspected. She would feel no guilt about her secret and her unacknowledged child, simply because she had the gift of being able to shut out anything that was detrimental to herself. She was able to convince herself that it had never happened, until someone—like me—brought it up in such a way as to make it impossible to deny it had taken place.
Two weeks later there was an announcement in the papers of the engagement of Major Merrivale to Annabelinda Denver.
In due course Robert went to the Palace to receive his medal, Aunt Belinda, Uncle Robert and Annabelinda with him.
And afterward he returned to Marchlands. Someone from the press came down; pictures were taken and there was a piece in the paper about his gallantry.
I thought Robert looked very fine in his uniform with the silver and mauve ribbon attached to his coat. There was no doubt that his family was very proud of him. There were tears in Uncle Robert’s eyes and Aunt Belinda positively beamed.
She was contented with life; her son decorated for bravery, and her daughter—without a season, which was not possible during the war—engaged to a very eligible young man.
The war was not so bad for Aunt Belinda and her family after all.
A Revelation
I WAS STAYING FOR a few days in London, as I did now and then. On this occasion I had come to town to make some arrangements about patients who would shortly be sent to Marchlands from one of the big hospitals. I also had some purchases to make.
It was pleasant to be with my father, who would return with me to Marchlands at the weekend. He was very preoccupied at this time. I knew that he had a great deal on his mind, and I think he enjoyed dining quietly with me alone. In some respects he was more hopeful about the war. He told me that the first contingent of Americans was expected in June.
“This will have a demoralizing effect on the enemy,” he said. “And we can do with their help, of course.”
“Do you think the end is in sight?”
“Well, perhaps not exactly in sight. Round the corner maybe. There’s one thing that makes me uneasy.”
He sat biting his lips while I waited for him to go on.
Then he looked at me steadily and said, “There’s something wrong somewhere. Secrets…top secrets…are being betrayed.”
“How?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “There are bound to be spies around. Even in peacetime they are here, and in wartime…although it is more difficult for them to operate, their efforts are intensified. But lately…You remember the affair at Milton Priory?”
“You never found out how that came about?”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I was deeply involved in that. I felt responsible. I am sure someone had been at my papers. It’s unsettling. Well, we can only be watchful. But some of these people are devilishly clever.”
“Perhaps it will all be over soon. Won’t that be wonderful?”
He agreed that it would.
It was the next day when Tom Green, one of the men from the stables at Marchlands, arrived at the house.
I was astonished to see him and thought for a moment that something must be very wrong.
I must have betrayed my anxiety for he said quickly, “All’s well at Marchlands, Miss Lucinda. It’s just that a woman came. She seemed to be most upset-like…and wanted to give a letter to you….And, as I had to come up to London on an errand for Mrs. Greenham…to the hospital here…I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes.”
“A woman?”
“Yes, miss. Really upset she was…in quite a state. She asked for you. She didn’t want to see anyone else. She was real distressed when I told her you were away.”
“Did she give her name?”