Menfreya in the Morning (28 page)

Worst of all, I was becoming suspicious. Distrust had crept into my mind and it would not be dismissed. I was becoming watchful and alert; and each day these feelings grew stronger.

I tried to throw off my jealous fears, but they persisted.

Ever since Benedict had come to Menfreya I had been his special friend, for he had seemed to put me in the place of the mother he had missed; I had always spent some of the day with bun, and he looked forward to my visits. Some-tunes I took him out for a walk, or now and then I rowed him over to the island house, which he loved. He was always clamoring to be taken, and the row across delighted him.

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One morning about a week after Jessica’s arrival, as Bevil bad gone to Lansella alone, I went to the nursery to see Benedict.

Jessica gave me her cool smile, which I had begun to compare with that of the Gioconda. She looked neat and, of course, beautiful in a lilac-colored gown with trim-lace collar and cuffs. She had few clothes, but what she bad were in perfect taste. That was something she possessed, a sense of how to make the most of her clothes; but it may have been that beauty such as hers would make any dress look wonderful. I immediately felt awkward in her presence, and I wondered then whether she deliberately made me feel so with those coo] glances of hers. She moved with a grace which I could never imitate, and there was a natural charm hi all her gestures.

“I came to see Benedict,” I said.

“He’s playing with his bricks.”

“I thought I’d take him out. Perhaps over to the island, as the wind’s dropped. He loves that.1*

“He’s already been out this morning. I’m afraid he’d be overtired, and that’ll make him cross. Then, of course, he won’t want to eat his dinner. You know what children are.”

She was smiling so disarmingly.

“Oh, but…” I began.

“Had I known you were coming, I should have made him wait for his walk. But I do think regularity is important”

“I see.”

I walked to the door of his playroom; she was beside me.

“Please don’t tell him you were going to take him to the island.”

“You’re afraid he would want to come?”

Again that smile. “He’d want to go, of course. It’s just that I know he would be overtired.’*

I went into the room. “Hello, Benny.”

“Hello!” He didn’t look up. But that was nothing. He was absorbed in building a brick house.

“Your auntie is here,” reproved Jessica.

“I know.” Still he did not look up.

She smiled at me.

I knelt down and looked at the brick house. “It’s going to fall soon,” I told him.

He nodded, still not looking at me—and that moment the

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bricks clattered to the floor. Benedict let out a shout of delight.

Then he picked one of them up and his pleasure faded as he noticed that the colored picture was slightly torn. He said mournfully: “Wants Jessie.”

I took it and said: “Oh, that can easily be stuck on.”

He took it solemnly from me and handed it to Jessica.

“Poor brick wants Jessie,” he said.

She took it “I’ve stuck some of the others,” she explained. “Ill see to it, Benny.”

She raised her eyebrows as though to say, You know what children are.

But that too seemed to me like a sign.

Jessica now joined us every evening for dinner. She had three dinner dresses—one black, one gray and one of blue velvet. They were all simple and by no means costly, but she managed to look magnificent in them; and in mine—some of which I had bought in Paris on my honeymoon—I felt gaucbe and often overdressed. That was the effect she had on me; moreover, I had an odd feeling that that was what she meant to do.

There was nothing of which one could complain. An onlooker would have said that merely by being present Jessica put others into the shade. But I felt she was aware of this and that she was nursing a secret triumph.

She was like a magnet at the table, drawing to her the attention of all the men. Sir Endelion was gallant; Bevil was always conscious of my being there, always eager to draw me into the conversation, but I sensed it was a studied eagerness, calculated to hide his true feelings; even William lister, who also took meals with us, would turn to her with frank admiration.

If she had been a pretty, frivolous little fool like poor Jenny, it would have been bearable, but she wasn’t She was clever and well educated; and what was most disconcerting was my discovery that she was determined to show her knowledge of politics, for this subject was naturally one most frequently discussed at the dinner table.

Her voice was soft and gentle but because she spoke slowly and her enunciation was perfect, clearly audible.

I listened to her and was aware of the men, all watching her. Lady Menfrey at the head of the table was trying to

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look alert, as she did when the conversation was political, but I knew that she was really wondering whether she should send for more blue wool for her tapestry or whether Benedict was going to have a cold, since he had sneezed twice during the day.

“I’ve had many a discussion with my father on that point,” Jessica was saying, “He had very firm views. Of course, we didn’t always agree.”

“The doctor was a man who had very strong views on tariff reform, I remember well,” put in Sir Endelion.

“My mother used to say that once my father made up his mind on a subject, he made it up at the same time not to change it”

They all laughed.

“Many’s the time he’s come here and we’ve argued almost to blows,” said Sir Endelion. “A good fellow, the doctor. I don’t care half so much for this new fellow.”

“His wife is a strong supporter of the party,” I put in,

“That’s true,” Bevil smiled at me; it may have been my imagination, but I was certain that he forced himself to turn from Jessica to me.

I was beginning to dread these meals, yet previously I had so enjoyed them. I liked the political talk; William Lister was always deferential to me, and both Bevil and Sir Endelion paid me the compliment of listening gravely to me. Now ft seemed that Jessica was usurping my place even here.

Then she said: “I met Harry leveret yesterday afternoon. I was riding not far from Chough Towers. He’s in residence there now.”

That was another thing; Jessica had always been fond of riding, and Sir Endelion had suggested that if she liked to give one of the horses a little exercise she should do so. Jessica had responded with enthusiasm.

They were all alert now. Lady Menfrey looked frightened and started to play nervously with her cutlery. I could see the pain in her face. She was thinking of that dreadful day when it had been discovered that Gwennan had run away.

Jessica gave her gentle smile, which I always felt was like a mask spreading across her face.

“He was very friendly,” she went on.

*’Why not?” I retorted, and my voice sounded harsh. “He has no quarrel with you.”

“He knows I’m here, of course. He talked … about the

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future.” She paused and looked from Sir Endelion to Bevil, including William Lister in her gaze. “He said that he’s now accepted as candidate for his party.”

“So it’s settled,” said Bevil.

“Yes. There was something else he said. Perhaps it’s impertinent of me, but … I let him sound me as to your feelings. He thinks you’re probably piqued because he’s going to stand against you.”

“I must say it was a surprise,” said Bevil. “Why didn’t he come out into the open with it? It all seemed somewhat secretive to me.”

That’s what he thought, but he said that the Leverets and Menfreys had always been friends, and he doesn’t see any reason why you shouldn’t continue to be. He asked me whether I thought that if he asked you to dine at Chough Towers, you would refuse.”

Sir Endelion burst out: “I don’t like his politics. I’m surprised at himl Thought he was a businessman. What’s he doing suddenly going into politics like this?”

“If he asks you and you refuse,” said Jessica hesitantly, “he might make things awkward. What I mean is, he might let it be known … Do you see what I mean?”

“Exactly,” replied Bevil, leaning forward and looking at her with approval.

“He could say that he had been badly treated by the Menfreys once …” She smiled deprecatingly, and I thought of how deeply Harry had been wounded at the time of Gwennan’s disappearance. “And that now … just because he doesn’t agree in his political opinions, his friendship had been rejected. I may be wrong, but I don’t think it would be looked on very favorably …”

She paused again. Then the conversation broke out; and the outcome was that it was decided that when Harry Leveret invited us to Chough Towers we would accept the invitation.

Bevil and I dined at Chough Towers. It seemed strange to be in the house again, particularly as it was furnished almost as it had been when my father had rented it. There were some additions, of course, and it was clear that Harry was going to do a good deal of entertaining,

He was different from the young man who had come to the gallery to look for Gwennan, and I guessed that the loss of

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Gwennan had had a great effect on his life. It had made hint grow up suddenly, and he had ceased to be a lighthearted boy. I was certain that he had loved Gwennan dearly and had wanted alliance with the old family of Menfrey, Although he seemed insignificant, I sensed in him a driving desire to succeed, which he must have inherited from his father, who from humble beginnings had built up the fortune which had made him a millionaire.

We invited him back to Menfreya, and the relationship between the two families was re-established, Jessica appeared to have been right, for the move was approved of. When the election did come—although it seemed as though it would not be just yet—it was going to be a clean fight in the constituency, and most people—except Harry and some of his supporters—believed that Bevil would certainly hold the seat

A few days after Harry’s visit to Menfreya I went into the library and saw Fanny standing at the window very still, crouched behind the curtains, so that she would not be seen.

“What are you looking at, Fanny?” I demanded, and I went swiftly to the window.

“Nothing … oh, nothing,” she replied, hastily turning away.

But I had seen them—Bevil and Jessica. Benedict was playing a little distance away, but it was on Jessica and my husband that Fanny’s attention was focused.

“Is anything wrong?” I asked.

“I hope not, Miss Harriet,” she answered tartly.

I knew exactly what was in her mind, and she knew what was in mine. I wanted to rebuke her, to tell her she was being foolish; but when I looked into her loving face I knew that if I suffered she would suffer with me.

I shrugged my shoulders and turned away.

A week or so later, going down to the dining room, I found, to my dismay, that both Bevil and Jessica were missing.

We had taken our places at the table—Sir Endelion and Lady Menfrey, William Lister and myself—expecting at any moment that the missing pair would arrive. The fact that they were both absent immediately aroused my uneasiness.

“What is keeping them?” murmured Lady Menfrey. “Mr. Lister, have you any idea?”

“None at all,” replied William. “I havent seen Mr. Menfrey since four o’clock.”

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“I hope Benedict is not unwell and that Jessica feels she should be with him.”

“I’ll go up to the nursery,” I said, and immediately slipped away.

I ran all the way, and when I opened the door of Benedict’s room I saw that he was in bed, fast asleep.

I went into the schoolroom and through to Jessica’s room and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so I went in. The room was as neat as it always was. A sudden fear made me open the drawers in the chest of drawers. With great relief I saw that her things lay neatly there. I opened the cupboard door. There hung her dresses.

I faced the fact then that I had actually believed that she and Bevil might have eloped together.

I went back to the dining room. “Benedict is asleep, but Jessica is not in the nursery or in her room.”

We dined at eight, and it was now ten minutes past the hour. Pengelly, hovering with his maids, wanted to know if he should serve.

Lady Menfrey often looked at Sir Endelion before giving an order. It was a habit which mildly irritated me, because I believed that she could have at least been mistress in the house if she had asserted herself.

I said rather sharply: “They know dinner is at eight. They won’t expect us to wait. Let us begin.”

I sounded as though I cared more for my food than anything, when in fact I was wondering how I was going to make a show of eating.

Pengelly said: “Thank you, Madam.” And the soup was brought in.

“It’s so unlike Jessica,” murmured Lady Menfrey. “She’s usually such a punctual person. Her father always was, I remember.”

“And Bevil?” said Sir Endelion. There was speculation in his eyes, and he looked more puckish than ever. “Have you any idea, Harriet, my dear, where he might be?”

“None,” I replied. “Unless he was suddenly called to Lansella, but in that case he would surely have left word.”

“Into Lansella with Jessica Trelarken? Now that’s hardly likely, I should think. Why, if he’d taken anyone into Lansella it would have been you, my dear.”

“I should have thought so.”

“It’s Jessica I’m wondering about,” said Lady Menfrey.

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“I do hope there hasn’t been an accident Oh, Pengelly, send to the stables and see if any horses are missing. I remember poor Gwennan’s accident , . . and how Dr. Trelarken’s houseboy came over to tell us. Yes, go at once, Pengelly. I am most anxious.”

We were through the soup course before Pengelly came

back.

“None of the horses is missing, my lady.”

Sir Endelion sat back in his chair looking at me.

“It’s strange,” he said. “Both of them.”

The meal seemed interminable. I played with the fish on my plate, anxious that none of them should know how worried I was. I caught William lister’s eyes on me. He knew; and he was kind and sympathetic. I believed he was as worried as I was,