Voices in a Haunted Room

This was what our life would be. I should grow into it graciously. I should help him when he had little worries about something on the estate; we should take trips to London. Indeed we had planned to do so on our honeymoon. I often thought of the one we had planned in Italy, visiting Herculaneum or Pompeii-but that would not be easy now that we were at war with France. I often wondered what would happen to an Englishman found in France at this time. Dickon said that the country was in such a turmoil that they would pay little attention to foreigners; they were too intent on killing each other. But I feared for Chariot and Louis Charles as well as Jonathan.

We decided we would go to London ... just for a week, say. We would sail up the river as far as Hampton; we would go to the theatre; and we would stay in the family house, which would be like home in a way.

I could not help thinking of Venice and Italian love songs as the gondoliers swept their way over darkened waters.

One day we came home past Grasslands, which belonged to Mrs. Trent, and as we were passing she came out and called to us.

I had never really liked her. There was a certain slyness about her. When I had visited Eversleigh the very first time-and I was quite young then-I had thought she was a witch and had been rather afraid of her.

Why I should have felt so I was not quite sure, for she must have been rather pretty when she was young; but there was a certain wariness about her which put me on my guard.

She called a greeting and said: “So it is our young bride and groom. Come and drink a glass of sloe gin ... or if you would prefer it, the elderberry wine was very good this year.”

I wanted to refuse, but David was already thanking her and accepting the invitation.

I guessed he did not want to go any more than I did, but he was too kindhearted to refuse.

Grasslands was a very small estate compared with Eversleigh. There were only two farms, but I had heard it said that Mrs. Trent had a very good manager.

We went into a hall-a lofty place with some magnificent oak beams -but small compared with ours at Eversleigh, and she led us into a parlour and called out for the serving girl to bring the elderberry wine and sloe gin.

Mrs. Trent was beaming her satisfaction. I knew that she did not have many visitors.

I gathered that for some reason she had never been accepted in the neighbourhood.

There was some scandal about her. Her mother had been housekeeper to my distant relative Carl Everskighin fact she had been his mistress and the story was that she had robbed him right and left. There was some scandal, which was discovered by my grandmother Zipporah, and the lady had disappeared, but not before her daughter had gone to work for Andrew Mather at Grasslands, and so insinuated herself into his life that he had married her, and when he died shortly afterwards leaving her with a baby son, she had become the owner of Grasslands.

Rumour had branded her an adventuress, and soon after the death of her first husband she married Jack Trent, her manager-who was said to have been her lover-and had lived in outward respectability ever since, but such a past was not easily forgotten.

“Everyone is most excited about the wedding,” she said. “I reckon your mama is really pleased-and your step-papa too. It’s always nice when things turn out the way people want, don’t you think?”

David said we were also delighted about the coming marriage.

“Well, if you weren’t that would be a nice kettle offish, wouldn’t it? I expect Mr. Jonathan’s nose will be put out of joint when he comes home and finds his brother has stolen a march on him.”

I felt myself flushing. Yes, that was what I remembered about Mrs. Trent. She seemed to be aware of one’s weaknesses and to find a pleasure in letting one know it-and to set one wondering how much she really knew. It was that witchlike quality.

The wine had arrived and she poured it out.

“Good ones this year-both sloe and elder,” she commented. “There now. Let’s drink to the wedding.”

We did. Then she went on: “And to the safe return of Mr. Jonathan.” Her eyes glittered as she looked straight at me. I could almost feel her probing my mind.

She said: “I like things to happen. That’s one thing about the country ... it can be a bit quiet. I started my life in London, you know. What a difference! Then my mother came to Eversleigh and it was the country life for me and has been ever since.

There’s some that say I’ve been lucky, and in spite of everything I’d say I’ve much to be thankful for.”

Her bright eyes seemed to be looking back into the past and she was smirking at memories.

“I saw your step-papa out riding the other day. What a fine gentleman!” There was a special glitter in her eyes now, as though she knew something about Dickon which she would dearly love to tell.