Saraband for Two Sisters (59 page)

“We are glad you did,” said Lady Eversleigh. “We shall be a large party, and it is always so much easier to entertain with a crowd.”

“Oh, I do agree,” said Harriet. “There are so many more things one can do with numbers.”

“As soon as Edwin comes we will go in to dinner,” went on Lady Eversleigh. “I can’t think what is keeping him. He knows we have guests.”

“Edwin is never punctual,” said Charlotte. “You know that, Mama.”

“Many times I have reasoned with him. I have told him that unpunctuality is bad manners just as much as slamming a door in someone’s face. The implication is that there is something more interesting to claim the attention and therefore everything else can wait. That is what my husband Lord Eversleigh impressed on me. As a soldier he is naturally the most punctual man alive. I had to mend my ways when I married him. Really one would not believe that Edwin … Ah, here he is. Edwin, my dear boy, come and meet our guests.”

All her annoyance had faded at the sight of her son, and I could understand it. I thought Edwin Eversleigh was the most attractive man I had ever seen. He was tall and very slim. He faintly resembled his sister Charlotte, but the likeness had the effect of making her look more insignificant than ever. His hair was the same colour as hers, but it was more abundant and had a faint kink in it which made it manageable. He wore it to his shoulders after the fashion which had prevailed at the time when King Charles had lost his head. His loose-fitting coat of brown velvet was braided and tagged about the waist. His sleeves were slashed to show a very white cambric shirt below. His breeches matched his coat in colour. It was not his clothes, though, which I noticed but the man himself. I imagined he was several years younger than Charlotte; that he was his mother’s darling was obvious. The way in which she said: “My son, Edwin,” was very revealing.

I find it difficult to describe Edwin as he was at that time because to give an account of the size of his nose and mouth and the colour of his hair and eyes conveys little. It was something within him—a vitality, a charm, a quality which was immediately obvious. When he came into a room something happened. The atmosphere changed. Attention was focused on him. I knew what Harriet meant when she said that some people had this quality. She had it, of course. I saw that clearly now.

_Edwin was looking at me, bowing, smiling. I noticed the way he half closed his eyes when he smiled, how his mouth turned up at one corner more than the other.

“Welcome, Mistress Tolworthy,” he said. “We are delighted that you should come.”

“And that she has brought her friend, Mistress Harriet Main,” added his mother.

He bowed. “I shall be eternally grateful that you allowed me to come,” said Harriet.

“You are a little rash, I can see,” he said, and I noticed that one eyebrow lifted higher than the other just as his mouth did when he smiled. “If I were you I should reserve a little of that gratitude for a while. Wait until you get to know us.”

Everyone laughed.

“Oh, Edwin,” said Lady Eversleigh, “what a tease you are! He always has been. He says the most outrageous things.”

“You should banish me from polite society, Mama,” said Edwin.

“Oh, my dear, how dull it would be if we did. Let us go into dinner and all get to know each other.”

The hall was rather like the one at Congrève. There was a dais and on this the table had been set because it was such a small party. Only we did not sit in the traditional way facing the main hall, but round the table as would have been done in a small room.

Lady Eversleigh sat at one end of the table with Lucas on her right and Harriet on her left. Edwin was at the other end with me on his right and Charlotte on his left. Sir Charles Condey was between me and Harriet.

“It would be so much more convenient if we had a small dining room,” said Lady Eversleigh. “But we have become accustomed to makeshift in the last years.”

“Never mind,” said Edwin, “we are soon going to be at home.”

“Do you really think so?” I asked.

He touched my hand which was lying on the table—only briefly but I felt a thrill of pleasure in the contact. “Certain of it,” he said smiling at me.

“Why are you so certain?”

“The signs and portents. Cromwell has kept his iron grip on the nation because he is a man of iron. Richard, his son, fortunately for England, has none of his father’s qualities. He has inherited the Protectorate because he is his father’s son. Oliver took it with his own strength. There’s a world of difference.”

“I wonder what is happening at our home,” said Lady Eversleigh. “We had such good servants … so loyal. They didn’t want these Puritan ideas. I wonder if they have been able to keep the place going.” She turned to Lucas. “Isn’t it wonderful to contemplate going home?”

Lucas said that it was, but that he could remember nothing of his home, although he recalled a little of his grandparents’ place in Cornwall.

“We escaped there,” I added. “My mother made the long journey across the country with Lucas and me. Our home, Far Flamstead, not far from London, had been attacked by the enemy but not completely destroyed.”

“A sad story and too often repeated,” said Charles Condey.

Harriet said: “I can remember so well my escape from England. We had warning that the enemy were approaching. My father had already been killed at Naseby and we knew the cause was lost. My mother and I and a few faithful servants hid in the woods while they ravaged our home. I shall never forget the sight of our home in flames.”

“My dear!” said Lady Eversleigh.

Everyone was looking at Harriet now but she would not meet my eye.

How beautifully she modulated her voice! She was acting a part and she was a superb actress.

“All those treasures which one has preserved through one’s childhood … the dolls … I had puppet dolls which I made perform for me. They were real to me. I fancied I could hear their screams as the flames consumed them. I was very young, of course …”

Silence at the table. How beautiful she was. And never more so than when she was acting a part.

“I remember waking cold, with the dawn just showing in the sky and the smell of acrid smoke in the air. It was quiet. The Roundheads had destroyed our home, changed our lives and gone on.”

“By God,” said Edwin, “when we get back they shall pay for what they did.”

Charlotte put in quietly: “There was violence and cruelty on both sides. When peace comes it will be best to forget this dreadful time.”

Charles Condey agreed with her. “If only we can go back to the old gracious life, we’ll forget this.”

“There has been nearly ten years of it,” said Edwin.

“It will be a new start,” Charlotte said. Charles Condey looked at her and smiled and I realized they were lovers.

Harriet was determined to maintain the centre of attention.

“We went back to the house … our beautiful gracious home which I had known all my life. But there was little left of it. I can remember searching frantically for my puppets. They were gone. All I found was a piece of charred ribbon … cherry coloured, which I had put on the dress of one of them. I treasure it to this day.”

Oh, Harriet, I thought angrily, how can you! And before me too, who knows that you are lying.

I did meet her gaze then. It challenged me. All right then, betray me. Tell them that I am the bastard of a strolling player and a village girl, that my mother was the mistress of the Squire, and the Roundheads never came near the place where we lived on his bounty. Tell them.

She knew I would not. But I would speak to her when we were alone.

Edwin leaned towards her. “What happened then?”

“Obviously we could not stay in the woods. We walked to the nearest village. We had a few jewels which we had taken with us to the fields. We sold these and lived on the proceeds for a while. In one village we fell in with some strolling players. They were having a bad time and performed in secret, for the Puritans were getting a big hold on the country at that time and, as you know, they were against playacting. The theatres were soon closed but there were still a few players on the road. So we joined them, my mother and I, and do you know for a short time I discovered that I had a talent for acting?”

“That does not surprise me,” I said, and she smiled at me again, daring me to expose her.

“I made some puppets. I did my little performance with them and then they let me act with them. I took small parts at first and then bigger ones. But things were getting worse. Although the villagers were pleased to see us, we never knew when one of them would be an informer. It became too dangerous so we came to France. My mother was drowned on the way, for we were wrecked. I was saved and went to the home of some friends of mine. I stayed with them for a while.”

“How very interesting,” said Lady Eversleigh. “Who were they?”

Harriet hesitated only for a fraction of a second. She dared not say the d’Ambervilles—if indeed her story concerning them was true. How could one be sure with such an actress?

“The de la Boudons,” she said. “You may know them.”

Lady Eversleigh shook her head. How could she know a family which existed only in Harriet’s imagination.

“Later,” continued Harriet, “I went to Arabella and I have been with her some time.”

“We must all band together in these times,” said Lady Eversleigh. “And how glad I am that you came!”

“It was so kind of you to let me. Arabella and I are such fast friends and I know that she did not like the idea of leaving me behind … and nor did I.”

“You are very welcome,” said Lady Eversleigh. “I am sure you will help to enliven the company.”

“Harriet always does. Ever since the strolling players came.” This was Lucas. I had forgotten that he would be wondering about her story. So it seemed had she.

She parried that thrust with the utmost ease. “Oh, yes, what a time that was. I was with the de la Boudons when these strolling players came to them. They played for us and I told them about my being with the players and they let me take part. Apparently they were quite pleased with me, and as one of their leading players had deserted them, they asked me if I would help them.” She paused then went on: “I will be honest …”

How can you, Harriet? I thought. She must have seen the shocked look in my eyes, for she smiled secretively. She was more lovely when she was involved in mischief, and I knew they must all be thinking how enchanting she was.

“The de la Boudons had been very kind to me … but life with them was so dull. I asked if they would allow me to go with the players … just for an adventure. They understood that the players had brought back memories to me. They were most sympathetic. They were sure that I was a great actress, and when they heard that the company were going to Paris, they were eager for me to join them. So I did, and by great good fortune we came to Congrève. There I hurt my ankle and was forced to stay behind when the players left. I realized, of course, that I was not meant to be a strolling player, and when Arabella and dear Lucas implored me to stay, I agreed.”

“We are all very glad that you did,” said Edwin. “Otherwise we should have missed the pleasure of knowing you.”

“We might well have met when we all return to England.”

“Then the pleasure would have been too long delayed.”

Harriet became animated. “You remember our play, Arabella … Lucas? How like the hall at Congrève this one is. It has the dais … it makes a good platform. What fun we had. We must tell them.”

“The play we did,” said Lucas. “Wasn’t it wonderful? It was all due to Harriet, of course. We all took part and the Lambards—the nearby farmers—and the servants were our audience.”

“You enjoyed it, did you not, Lucas?” said Harriet. “You were very good in your part.”

“I was sorry for Arabella,” said Lucas. “She had to die at the end.”

“The reward for my ill-spent life,” I said.

“Really?” Edwin was smiling at me. “I can’t believe that you life spent in any ways but worthily.”

“In the part I was the murderess. I prepared the poison draught for Harriet and took it myself.”

“It was a French melodrama,” Harriet explained.

Lady Eversleigh had grown rather pink. “Wouldn’t it be fun if we could do a little play? We have several guests coming and there are people around we could invite to see it. Do you think you could play the same thing again?”

“Are they English, your visitors?” asked Harriet.

“Yes … all of them … all exiles like ourselves.”

“Our melodrama was decidedly French … all about love and passion.”

“A most interesting subject,” said Edwin.

“Very French,” insisted Harriet.

Charles said: “Are you suggesting that these are subjects which don’t interest the English?”

“No, indeed. Many are interested in them but in secret.”

“How amusing,” said Edwin.

“Come,” Harriet parried, “you know this to be a fact.”

“In Puritan England, I daresay?”

“What I am suggesting,” said Harriet, “is that we should do a play which is entirely English. Shakespeare, for instance.”

“Wouldn’t that be rather beyond us?” asked Charlotte.

“I know some abridged versions which make it quite easy to stage.”

Charlotte said: “You must have done it in French.”

“Er … yes, but I could do the translation. What do you say that we form our band of players. … All of us will have a part.”

“You must not count me in,” said Lady Eversleigh. “I have the guests’ comfort to think of. We haven’t the servants here we had at home.”

“Then the rest of us,” said Harriet. “That makes a company of six. We can manage. We might get someone else to join us for a walk-on part.”

There was no doubt that they were all excited. Conversation was all about the entertainment we should give.

We sat long over the table, and as we left it Lady Eversleigh whispered to me: “How glad I am that you brought your friend.”

I was silent when we were in our room that night and it was Harriet who opened the subject as we lay in our beds. “Stop being so smug and self-righteous,” she said.

“I have said nothing,” I replied.