Saraband for Two Sisters (40 page)

This was where the kitchens would be. There was the window which I knew was there, but I could not find a door. I wondered whether there had been one once and it had been blocked up. If so, there should be some sign of it, but there was nothing.

I looked behind me. The wall of the mock castle was very close and the discovery I did make was that this was its nearest distance from the house. If it is a ruin which might crumble at any moment, is it safe to allow it to remain so near the house? I wondered.

Clearly I could discover nothing there, so I went back to my room, but I kept thinking about it.

How long the evening seemed. Angelet sat idly, for she could not see to embroider by the candlelight, and I fancied that when Richard was not there she did not feel the need to be busy.

We talked of old times and Trystan Priory and wondered what our mother was doing at that moment. Then when we mentioned Castle Paling I was reminded of my exploration that afternoon, and said: ‘When I went down to the kitchen to speak to Mrs Cherry I noticed a cupboard I had not seen before. I looked inside and there was a door which was bolted. Where does it lead?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ replied Angelet.

‘You’re the mistress of the house. It shouldn’t hold any secrets from you.’

‘I never interfere in the kitchen.’

‘It’s not interfering … just to find out why there should be a door in a cupboard.’

‘Did you ask Mrs Cherry?’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Well, if you’re curious you could ask her.’

‘Why don’t we go down and see?’

‘To ask them, you mean.’

‘I don’t want to ask them. I want to find out for ourselves. It’s rather mysterious, I fancy.’

‘Mysterious? How? Why?’

‘How? That’s what we have to find out. And why?—well, something tells me it is.’

‘What do you want to do?’

‘Explore.’

Her eyes shone. It was almost as though we were children again and I knew that that was what she was thinking. Hadn’t I always been the one to lead the way when we did something wild and extraordinary?

‘Well,’ she said, ‘what do you suggest?’

‘We’ll wait until they’re in bed and then we’ll go down to the kitchens and see what’s behind that door … If there is anything.’

‘What if we’re discovered?’

‘My dear Angelet, what if we are? Are you or are you not the mistress of this house? If you wish to explore your kitchen in the dead of night, what right has anyone to stop you?’

She began to laugh.

‘You haven’t grown up at all,’ she accused.

‘In some ways I may have retained my childishness,’ I admitted.

The evening passed slowly; we went to our rooms and to our beds because I had said that neither Meg nor Phoebe should suspect anything. This was our adventure.

It was just past midnight when we wrapped our robes about us and took a candle and made our way to the kitchens.

Angelet kept close to me. I sensed that she was a little nervous, and I wondered whether I should have suggested she share the adventure. Cautiously I opened the kitchen door and, lifting the candlestick, shone the light over the wall, past the great fireplace to the shelf on which stood the pewter goblets.

‘There’s the cauldron which fell the other night,’ I said. I lowered the candle. ‘And there’s the door. Come on.’

I went to it. It was shut and there was a key in the lock. I turned it and the door opened. I was in the cupboard.

‘Hold the candle,’ I commanded Angelet, and when she took it I pushed aside the coats and revealed that other door. The lock had not been mended, but the heavy bolt was drawn across it.

‘What are you doing?’ whispered Angelet.

‘I’m going to draw the bolt,’ I said.

It moved easily which surprised me, for I had imagined it might be impossible to move if it had not been drawn for a number of years.

I opened the door and as I did so there was a rush of cold air. I looked into darkness.

‘Be careful,’ cried Angelet.

‘Give me the candle.’

It was a sort of corridor. On the ground were stones and the walls were of stone too.

I stepped forward.

‘Come back!’ screamed Angelet. ‘I can hear someone coming.’

That brought me out into the cupboard. I too could hear footsteps. I shut the door behind me. As I did so Mrs Cherry came into the kitchen.

She gave a little scream and Angelet said, ‘It’s all right, Mrs Cherry.’

‘God have mercy,’ she whispered.

I said quickly: ‘We thought we heard someone down here—and we came to investigate.’

Mrs Cherry’s eyes had lost their bland benignity. She could have been very frightened.

‘It’s all right, though,’ I went on. ‘It must have been mice in the wainscot or some bird outside …’

She looked round the room and I noticed that her eyes went to the cupboard.

‘I reckon this comes of people not putting up cauldrons in their right places, that’s what I reckon. People get nervous … that’s what, and then they mistake noises in the night.’

‘I suppose that’s what it was. But we have satisfied ourselves, Mrs Cherry. So there’s no need to worry.’

‘I wouldn’t like to think of anything wrong in my kitchen,’ said Mrs Cherry.

‘There is nothing wrong. We’ve satisfied ourselves. We’ll say goodnight now, and I’m sorry you’ve been disturbed.’

I slipped my left arm through Angelet’s right and, holding the candle high in my right hand, I led my sister out of the kitchen.

When we were in the Blue Room I set down the candle, sat on her bed and laughed.

‘Well, that was fun,’ I said.

‘Why did you make up that story about hearing noises? Why didn’t you tell her what we were looking for?’

‘I felt it would be more fun not to.’

‘What was it you found, anyway?’

‘The door opens on to a sort of alcove with a stone floor.’

‘Well, what’s so interesting about that?’

‘My explorations did not go far enough for me to answer.’

‘Oh Bersaba, you are mad. You always were. What Mrs Cherry thought of us, I can’t imagine.’

‘She was a little upset. I wonder why?’

‘Most people would be after they’d had a fright like that.’

‘What would you say if I told you I thought that might be a way into the castle?’

‘I’d say that you were making it up.’

‘Well, of course, there is a way to prove it, though. And there isn’t another way in, is there? I mean, that high wall with the glass on top goes all the way round.’

‘Richard had the wall put round because it wasn’t safe. And there is another door. I found it one day when I was in the copse. Why should there be a way into the castle from the house?’

‘I don’t know. I just wondered.’

‘Oh dear, I shall never sleep tonight. Shall I have a little of the sleeping draught?’

‘Well, perhaps you are over excited. It might be a good time to try it.’

I went to my room and brought out the bottle.

I gave her the appointed dose and said I would sit with her until she slept.

Within fifteen minutes of taking it she fell into a deep sleep. I sat there for some time, thinking about the cupboard and the bolted door. I believed that there was a corridor into the castle and I had discovered it.

I awoke in the night and went into Angelet’s room; she was still sleeping, and in the morning I asked if she had slept through the night and she assured me that she had.

T
HE NEXT DAY I
made an excuse to go to the kitchen, and then I noticed that the key to the cupboard had been removed and guessed that Mrs Cherry or someone had suspected my interest and was determined that my explorations should cease.

I was almost certain that there was a corridor leading from the kitchen into the castle, and since the castle was forbidden as unsafe, naturally the existence of the corridor would be kept a secret.

Then I ceased to think about the matter, for that afternoon Luke Longridge rode over. It was the first time he had called at Far Flamstead because Richard had never asked him, and in view of the fact that relations must be rather strained between them after that proposed duel about which Angelet had told me, this was not surprising. Richard had, however, raised no objection to our visiting them. True, there had been nothing formal about our visits and we met them more by chance than anything else.

It was Phoebe who came to tell me that Mr Longridge had called and was asking for me, so I went down to the hall where he waited uneasily. I thought something must be wrong and asked him what.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I just wanted to talk to you. Could you get a wrap and come out into the gardens?’

‘Can’t you talk here?’ I asked.

‘As I am not sure whether General Tolworthy would welcome me in his house, I would prefer it if you would come outside.’

I said I would get a wrap and I sent Phoebe for it.

When we were outside, I led him to the enclosed garden. It was too chilly to sit, so we walked round as we talked.

‘You will wonder at the urgency,’ he said, ‘but it is not a hasty matter on my part, for I have thought about it continuously for some time. You have been in my thoughts since our first meeting and each day I have hoped that you would ride by.’

‘You and your sister have always given us a good welcome and both my sister and I have enjoyed our visits.’

‘No doubt you are aware of my regard for you. I had not thought to marry. There is so much I want to do, but it is natural for a man to take a wife. I hope this does not seem incongruous to you, but I have come to ask you to marry me.’

‘You can’t be serious.’

‘I am deeply in earnest. I am not a rich man, but I have the farm and some assets. We are not exactly poor.’

‘I do not assess people by their worldly goods.’

‘Indeed you do not. You are too wise for that. The rich man of today can be the poor man of tomorrow. The treasures of the heart and mind are those of value.’

‘Why do you wish to marry me?’ I asked.

‘Because I love you. I could be happy with you. I could make you happy, and the simple fact is that I shall never know happiness without you.’

‘I thought you did not believe in happiness.’

‘You mock me.’

‘No, I seek to know you.’

‘There is nothing in the Bible against a man’s marrying. It is a worthy action to take.’

‘But what if you should find pleasure in your marriage?’

‘That would find favour in the eyes of God.’

‘Carnal pleasure?’ I said. He was startled. He looked at me in amazement. I said: ‘We are not children. We must know the reason for our actions. I want to ask you if the thought of carnal pleasure makes you feel you would be happy to live with me.’

‘How strangely you talk, Bersaba. Hardly like a …’

‘Like a Puritan? But I am not a Puritan. I believe you want me as men will want women and offer marriage for that reason. I merely wish to know.’

He stepped nearer to me. ‘You enchant me,’ he said. ‘I will admit I want you in this way. I can only be happy with you. Bersaba, you don’t answer. Will you marry me?’

‘No,’ I said, almost triumphantly, for I had made him admit to carnal desires; and then that perverse side of my nature was there and I was sorry for him. ‘I could only marry if I loved … as one loves a lover. I make no secret of my needs. I do not love you in that way, though I respect you and like you as my friend. That is the answer, Luke, and I have nothing more to say.’

‘Bersaba, you will think of this?’

‘It would do no good.’

‘I suppose they will take you to London and there will be balls and banquets …’

‘And extravagances,’ I said.

‘And there you will find a man who will make you rich.’

‘I do not look for riches. I told you that, Luke.’

He turned away and I laid my hand on his arm. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘But if you really knew me you would not admire me. You want me, yes, I know that, but you would not be happy with me. Your conscience would worry you. You would find too much pleasure in me. You are a Puritan … I don’t know what I am, but it is not that. You will find a wife more suitable, Luke, and you will then thank me and God for this day.’

‘You are so different from everyone else,’ he said.

‘That is why you should avoid me. You don’t know me. I’m not of your kind. Try not to feel too badly. I shall call on your sister as I did before and we’ll be friends. We’ll talk. We’ll fight our verbal battles and enjoy each other’s company. Go now, Luke. Don’t be downhearted. This is for the best. I know it.’

Then I left him and ran into the house.

The next day Richard returned. I heard arrivals and went out into the courtyard to see who had come, and there he was dismounting while the groom took charge of his horse.

Forgetting decorum in my pleasure at seeing him, I had run forward holding out my hands. He seized them and held them for a moment, looking into my face searchingly, I thought, and I felt my spirits soaring, for I believed in that moment that he knew.

‘Bersaba,’ he said, and there was something about the way in which he said my name which sounded like a lover speaking to his mistress, but almost immediately he was cool and looking as I had so often seen him look. ‘I’m back for a brief stay,’ he said. ‘Where is Angelet?’

She too had heard and came out into the courtyard.

He took her hands as he had taken mine and kissed her cheek.

‘You are well?’ he asked solicitously.

‘Oh yes, Richard. And you? How long will you be with us? Are the troubles over?’

‘As usual I can’t say how long and the troubles are by no means over. They increase with every day.’

He slipped his arm through hers and then looked round for me. I went to him and he took my arm, and thus linked we went into the hall.

I warned myself that I must not betray this wild excitement which took possession of me. I must overcome it. I must remember that this was my sister’s husband.

We supped as usual in the intimate parlour. He seemed almost tender to Angelet.

‘Are you sure you are feeling well?’ he asked her. ‘You look a little tired.’

‘She has not been sleeping very well,’ I told him.