Voices in a Haunted Room

David was full of concern when he came in.

I said: “I have such a headache. I thought I’d go to bed. It’s better when I’m lying down.”

He bent over me and kissed me tenderly. Was there anything I needed? Should he have a tray sent up?

I told him no. I would rather sleep.

So I lay in my bed and when David came up I pretended to be asleep.

I almost burst into tears when he kissed me lightly because he feared to wake me.

I lay still, and I could not stop myself thinking of Jonathan, and of those magical moments in the haunted room.

My mother, with Dickon, Sophie and Jeanne, came home the next day. They were excited by their purchases. I had not seen Jonathan since our encounter and I needed all my cunning to act as though everything were normal.

Sophie was delighted with the materials she had bought and admitted it was a good idea to have gone to London.

“Did Molly get those measurements?” she asked.

I replied that she hadn’t done so yet as I had been unable to meet her when I intended to.

“Well, there’s no hurry,” said my mother, “and Jeanne can supervise her.”

At dinner that night everyone was there, even Sabrina, who appeared on special occasions, which was when anyone who had been away returned; and particularly if it happened to be Dickon.

Jonathan seemed exactly the same. I could not meet his eyes but I was aware of him all the time.

The sale of Enderby was now completed and Sophie could begin doing any repairs to the house and furniture she wanted to.

“I’ll get torn Ellin to come over and see you,” said Dickon. “He’s an excellent carpenter.”

“We shall see wonders at Enderby,” said my mother. “What an exciting project!”

”I think,” put in Jonathan, looking at me, blue flames in his eyes, “that we are getting rather fond of that old house.”

“David always said that cutting down some of the shrubs and trees would make all the difference,” I commented deliberately, not meeting Jonathan’s gaze.

“I shall not do too much cutting back,” said Sophie. “What I like about Enderby is that feeling of seclusion.”

Then my mother started to talk about Christmas.

“All this excitement has made me forget how close it is.”

“I suppose it will be the usual entertaining?” I asked.

“It is the old tradition, isn’t it, Mother?” said Dickon.

Sabrina smiled fondly at him, and he put his hand over hers and pressed it. He was always gentle and tender with her. I supposed such absolute adoration could not fail to bring a response.

“Carol singers and the punch bowl,” went on my mother, “the wassailing, and of course the usual festivities of the day. I don’t want too many this year. Just a few house guests. I think the Farringdons will have to stay a night or two. The Manor is not far off, but if the weather is bad ...”

“It’s a pity,” I said, “that Christmas can’t be in the summer when travelling would be so much easier.”

“Oh, no, no,” cried Jonathan. “The darkness adds to the joy. Those lovely log fires, coming in from the cold, hoping there’ll be snow, picturesque on the trees-after everyone has safely arrived, and it must have thawed to allow them to depart at the appointed time. Why do people always want life to fit neatly into their plans?”

“I suppose you are right,” I admitted. “Christmas wouldn’t be the same at any other time.”

He touched my hand lightly and said: “You will find that I often am right, little Claudine.”

“No one can accuse Jonathan of an abundance of modesty,” said my mother lightly.

“What do you think of the Farringdons, all of you? They are quite a nice family and Harry would be an asset at any party.”

“Oh yes, Harry is amusing and handsome,” I said. “Quite an asset.”

“I wonder they haven’t married nun off,” mused Dickon. “He’s quite a catch. He will be very comfortably placed when he inherits, as he will, as the only son.”

“And of course the Pettigrews,” went on my mother. “You’ll like that, won’t you, Jonathan?” She spoke with meaning. I think there had been an understanding between her and Lady Pettigrew that her daughter Millicent should make a match with either David or Jonathan, and now that David and I were married Jonathan was the free one.

“Very much, Step-mama,” said Jonathan.

It was absurd, it was shameful, but I felt a pang of jealousy. I was trying to pretend that what had happened between us at Enderby would never happen again, and yet the thought of Jonathan with anyone else was excessively painful to me.

“And what about the locals,” asked David. “The Dollands, of course.”

“Of course,” agreed my mother. “Emily Dolland is such a help with everything, and we all appreciate Jack, of course.”

“He’s a good man,” commented Dickon. “David agrees, don’t you?”

“Absolutely,” said David.

“And I suppose,” went on my mother, “we can’t leave out the Grasslands people.”

There was silence at the table and my mother went on: “Evalina Trent would be most put out. The girl, Evie, is getting very pretty. I saw her the other day. She looks very attractive in her habit and she rides well. I thought she was quite a beauty.

The little one was with her.”