Voices in a Haunted Room Page 3

  She laid the bodice on the table and was saying: “I’ll have this right in a jiffy. Sleeves is so important, Miss Claudine. I’ve known a badly set sleeve ruin a dress, however handsome the rest of it…” when the door opened. I gave a little gasp because Jonathan was standing there.

  He did not look at me but said: “Oh, Molly, the mistress wants to see you at once. It’s urgent. She’s in the library.”

  “Oh, Mr. Jonathan,” she turned flustered to me; she looked back at the table. “I’ll just—er—see to Miss Claudine…”

  “The mistress said immediately, Molly. I think it is important.”

  She nodded nervously and with a little giggle ran from the room. Jonathan turned to me and the blue flames were in his eyes as they swept over me.

  “Charming,” he said. “Very charming. All glory below and sweet simplicity above.”

  “You’ve delivered your message,” I said. “Now you’d better go.”

  “What?” he cried indignantly. “You’d ask me to go now?”

  He put his hands on my shoulders and bending his head swiftly kissed my neck.

  “No,” I said firmly.

  He just laughed and pulling my shift down over my shoulder put his lips against my skin. I gasped and he lifted his head to look at me mockingly.

  “You see,” he said, “the top does not suit the skirt, does it?”

  I felt exposed, unprotected; my heart was beating so fiercely that in my state of undress he must be aware of it.

  “Go away,” I cried. “How dare you… come in here… when… when…”

  “Claudine,” he said. “Little Claudine… I was passing. I peeped in and saw dear old Molly with her pins, and you there in a certain degree of nudity… and I had to come and tell you how charming you looked.”

  I tried to pull my shift back into place but he would not release it, and I could not escape from his hands or his lips.

  It was wildly exciting. It was like one of those fantasies during which I had pictured his coming into my bedroom. It was over very quickly, for I heard Molly Blackett coming back. She burst into the room just as Jonathan had slipped my shift back onto my shoulders.

  Her face was flushed. “The mistress was not in the library,” she said.

  “Was she not?” Jonathan turned to her, smiling easily. “I expect she had to go away. I’ll find her, and if she still wants you, I’ll let you know.”

  With that he bowed to us both ironically and went out.

  “Well, I never,” said Molly Blackett. “The impudence. He had no right to come in here. I don’t believe the mistress wanted me urgently.”

  “No,” I said. “He had no right.”

  Her head shook and her lips twitched. “Mr. Jonathan and his tricks…” she murmured.

  But I noticed later that she glanced at me speculatively and I wondered whether she thought I had encouraged him.

  That scene in the sewing room affected me deeply. I could not get it out of my mind. I avoided him for all the rest of that day, and an hour or so before dinner I went into the library to talk to David. He was excited about some Roman remains which had been uncovered along the coast and he wanted to go down to see them at the end of the week.

  “Would you like to come with me?” he asked. “I know you’d be interested.”

  I said enthusiastically that I would.

  “They could be important. You know we are not far from the spot where Julius Caesar landed and the Romans seem to have left quite a lot of evidence of their residence. They used this area for fuelling their ships. The remains of a villa have been unearthed and there are some very well-preserved tiles. I must say I am greatly looking forward to seeing it.”

  He had blue eyes and when they sparkled they looked remarkably like Jonathan’s.

  I questioned him about the discovery and he brought down books to show me what had been found in the past.

  “It must be a most satisfying profession,” he said a little wistfully. “Imagine the satisfaction when great discoveries are made.”

  “Imagine the frustration when after months and perhaps years of work, they find nothing and learn that they have been searching for something which is not there!”

  He laughed. “You’re a realist, Claudine. I always knew that. Is it the French in you?”

  “Perhaps. But I seem to be getting more and more English every day.”

  “I’d agree with that… and when you marry you will be English.”

  “If I marry an Englishman. But my origins will be unaffected. I have never understood why a woman should take her husband’s nationality. Why shouldn’t a husband take his wife’s?”

  He pondered that seriously. That was one of David’s characteristics which I found so comforting; he always gave consideration to my ideas. I suppose that living in a household dominated by men, I had become aware of a certain patronage—certainly from my brother, Charlot, and Louis Charles followed him in all things. While Jonathan, although showing a great interest in me, made me feel that I was entirely female and therefore to be subdued by the male.

  That was why being with David was so refreshing.

  He went on: “I suppose there has to be some ruling about this. For instance, there would be some confusion if a wife did not take her husband’s name. What name should the children be given if she did not? When you look at it that way there is some reason in it.”

  “And to preserve the myth that women are the weaker sex.”

  He smiled at me. “I never thought that.”

  “Well, David, you are different. You don’t accept every argument that is put before you. It has to be logical. That is why it is so reassuring to be with you in this community of men.”

  “I’m so glad you feel like that, Claudine,” he said earnestly. “It’s been so interesting since you came. I remember your arriving with your mother and I have to say that I did not realize in the beginning what a difference it would make—but I soon did. I began to see that you were different… different from all the other girls whom I had ever met.”

  He hesitated and seemed as though he were making up his mind. After a while he continued: “I am afraid it is very wrong of me, but sometimes I am glad of everything that has happened simply because… it has made Eversleigh your home.”

  “You mean the revolution—?”

  He nodded. “Sometimes I think of it at night when I’m alone. The terrible things that are happening over there to people you have lived amongst… and the thought is always there… Yes, but it brought Claudine here.”

  “I daresay I should have come at some time. My mother would certainly have married Dickon sooner or later. I think she only hesitated while my grandfather lived, and when she married Dickon I would naturally have come here with her.”

  “Who knows? But here you are and sometimes I think that is all that matters.”

  “You flatter me, David.”

  “I never flatter… at least not consciously. I mean it, Claudine.” He was silent for a few seconds; then he went on: “Your birthday will soon be here. You’ll be seventeen.”

  “It seems a sort of milestone.”

  “Isn’t every birthday?”

  “But seventeen! Stepping from childhood into maturity. A very special milestone, that one.”

  “I always thought you were wiser than your years.”

  “What a nice thing to say! Sometimes I feel quite foolish.”

  “Everybody does.”

  “Everybody? Dickon? Jonathan? I don’t think they ever felt foolish in all their lives. It must be gratifying to know that you are always right.”

  “Not unless it is universally agreed that you are.”

  “What do they care for universal opinions? It is only their own that count with them. Always to be right in one’s own eyes does give one a tremendous panache, don’t you think?”

  “I’d rather face the truth, wouldn’t you?”

  I considered. “Yes… on the whole, I think I would.”

&nbs
p; “We always seem to think alike. I want to say something to you, Claudine. I’m seven years older than you.”

  “Then you must be twenty-four if my arithmetic does not betray me,” I said lightly.

  “Jonathan is the same.”

  “I have heard that he put in an appearance slightly ahead of you.”

  “Jonathan would always be first even at such a time. We had one tutor who was always urging me to assert myself. ‘Go in,’ he used to say. ‘Don’t stand on the edge looking in. Don’t wait for your brother always. Go in ahead of him.’ It was sound advice.”

  “Which you did not always take.”

  “Hardly ever.”

  “It must be a little disconcerting sometimes to have a twin.”

  “Yes, there are the inevitable comparisons.”

  “But there is supposed to be a special bond.”

  “Jonathan and I have long ago released ourselves from that if it ever existed. He is indifferent towards me. Sometimes I think he despises my way of life. And I am not exactly overcome with admiration for his.”

  “You are quite different,” I said. “The fairies at the christening dealt out the human qualities—this one for Jonathan, that one for David… so that what each possesses, the other doesn’t…”

  “The qualities,” he said, “and the frailties. There is something I am leading up to.”

  “I gathered that.”

  “I should like to marry you, Claudine.”

  “What!” I cried.

  “Are you surprised?”

  “Not really… only that you bring it up at this time. I thought—after my birthday.”

  He smiled. “You seem to think there is some magic about the actual day.”

  “That’s foolish, isn’t it?”

  “Both your mother and my father would be pleased. It would be ideal. We have so much to interest us both. I wouldn’t have asked you if I hadn’t thought you liked me. I believe you enjoy our talks and everything…”

  “Yes,” I said, “I do. And I’m very fond of you, David, but—”

  “Have you never thought of marrying?”

  “Oh yes, of course.”

  “And… with someone?”

  “One can’t very well think about marriage without including a bridegroom.”

  “And did you ever consider me?”

  “Yes… I did. My mother talked to me about it. Parents always want to see their offspring married, don’t they? But my mother wants it to be right for me… she wouldn’t wish it otherwise.”

  He came to me then and took my hands in his. I was reminded how different he was from Jonathan, but I knew that he would be kind always, and understanding and interesting; oh yes, it would be a wonderful life with him.

  There was something missing though, and after my encounters with Jonathan, I knew what. I did not feel that overwhelming excitement when David took my hands, and I kept thinking of Jonathan in the sewing room slipping my shift from my shoulders; and I knew in that moment that I wanted them both. I wanted the gentleness, the reliability, the sense of security, the absorbing subjects I could share… all that came from David; and on the other hand, I wanted the excitement of that sensual allure which Jonathan brought me.

  I wanted them both. What a quandary, for how could one have two husbands?

  I looked at David. How pleasant he was. There was an earnestness about him—an innocence in a way. I believed I could enjoy a life spent, at Eversleigh, discussing with him the affairs of the estate, looking after tenants on the Eversleigh land, delving into matters which absorbed us both.

  If I said Yes, my mother would be pleased. Dickon would be too, although he would be indifferent as to whether I chose David or Jonathan. But Jonathan had not asked me. Yet I knew that he wanted me… He lusted after me, as they put it in the Bible. And because of who I was he would have to marry me to get me into his bed.

  I came very near to saying Yes to David, but something held me back. It was the memory of Jonathan, and the stirring of hitherto unknown emotions which he had aroused in me.

  “I’m so fond of you, David,” I said. “You have always been my very good friend. But just now, I feel I want to wait.”

  He understood at once.

  “Of course, you want to wait. But think about it. Remember everything we could do. There is so much in the world to absorb us.” He waved his arms, indicating the shelves of books. “We have so much to share, and I love you very dearly, Claudine. I have from the moment you came here.”

  I kissed his cheek and he held me against him. I felt pleasantly secure and happy; but I could not shut out the memory of Jonathan; and when I looked in David’s clear blue eyes I thought of the startling blue flame in those of Jonathan.

  I couldn’t sleep that night. Perhaps that was understandable. I had had a proposal of marriage which I had almost accepted; I had also had the experience in the sewing room and I did not know which had affected me more deeply.

  One thing I had done before getting into bed was to lock my door. Coming to the sewing room as he had, Jonathan had shown me clearly that he was capable of rash actions, and my response had taught me that I had to beware of my own feelings.

  I spent the morning as I always did with my governess, and in the early afternoon I went for a ride. I had not gone very far when I was overtaken by Jonathan.

  “Hello,” he said. “What a surprise!”

  Of course I knew that he had watched me leave and had then come after me.

  “I should have thought you would have been ashamed to show your face,” I said.

  “I was under the impression that you rather liked it; and if it pleases you, that is all I ask.”

  “What do you imagine Molly Blackett thought of your behaviour in the sewing room?”

  “I must first ask a question of you. Does Molly Blackett think? I believe her mind is completely taken up with pins and needles and ladies’—er—is there such a thing as a placket? It would be most appropriate if there is, because that rhymes with her name.”

  “She was shocked. You know very well that my mother did not wish to see her.”

  “But I wished to see you more closely in that delicious state of undress.”

  “It was very foolish and decidedly ungentlemanly.”

  “The best things in life often are,” he said ruefully.

  “I dislike this flippant talk.”

  “Oh come! You know you find it irresistible… as you do me.”

  “I knew you always had a high opinion of yourself.”

  “Naturally, for if I don’t, who else will? They take their cue from me, you know.”

  “I don’t want to hear any more glorification of your character.”

  “I understand. It does not need glorification. You are wise enough, chère Mademoiselle, to see it as it really is, and that pleases you. I believe it pleases you mightily.”

  “You are absurd.”

  “But adorable with it.”

  My answer to that was to whip up my horse. I turned into a field and galloped across it. He was beside me. I had to pull up, as I had come to a hedge.

  “Let me make a suggestion,” he said. “We could tether our horses and sit under yonder tree. Then we could talk of many things.”

  “It is hardly the weather for sitting out-of-doors. I believe it could snow in a moment.”

  “I would keep you warm.”

  I turned away again but he laid a hand on my bridle.

  “Claudine, I do want to talk to you seriously,” he said.

  “Well?”

  “I want to be near you. I want to touch you. I want to hold you as I did yesterday. That was wonderful. The only trouble was that dear old Molly Blackett would come blundering in.”

  “What do you want to talk seriously about?” I asked. “You are never serious.”

  “Rarely. But this is one moment when I am. Marriage is a serious business. My father would be quite pleased if you and I married, Claudine, and what is more important—so
would I.”

  “Married to you!” I heard a pitch of excitement in my voice. I went on scathingly: “Something tells me that you would not be a very faithful husband.”

  “My chère Mademoiselle would keep me so.”

  “I think I should find the task too onerous.”

  He laughed aloud. “Sometimes you talk like my brother.”

  “I find that rather a compliment.”

  “So now we are to hear of the virtues of St. David. I know you are rather fond of him—in a special sort of way.”

  “Of course I’m fond of him. He is interesting, courteous, reliable, gentle…”

  “Are you, by any chance, making comparisons? I believe Shakespeare once commented on the inadvisability of that. You will know. If not, consult Erudite David.”

  “You should not sneer at your brother. He is more…”

  “Worthy?”

  “That is the word.”

  “And how it fits. I have an idea that you are more favourably inclined towards him than I like.”

  “Are you by any chance jealous of your brother?”

  “I could be… in certain circumstances. As no doubt he could be of me.”

  “I don’t think he has ever aspired to be like you.”

  “Do you think I have ever aspired to be like him?”

  “No. You are two decidedly different natures. Sometimes I think you are as different as two people could be.”

  “Enough of him. What of you, sweet Claudine? I know you respond to me. You like me, don’t you? You liked me very much when I came into the room and routed old Blackett and I kissed you. True, you put on your mask of properly-brought-up-young-lady. ‘Unhand me, sir!’ which really meant I want more of this… and more…”

  I was scarlet with mortification.

  “You presume too much.”

  “I reveal too much which you would prefer to hide. Do you think you can hide the truth from me? I know women.”

  “I had gathered that.”

  “My dearest little girl, you don’t want an inexperienced lover. You want a connoisseur to direct you through the gates of paradise. We would have a wonderful time together, Claudine. Come, say yes. We’ll announce it at the dinner party. It’s what they want. And in a few weeks we’ll be married. Where shall we go for our honeymoon? What say you to Venice? Romantic nights on canals… the gondoliers singing love songs as we drift along. Does that appeal to you?”