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Authors: Victoria Holt

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BOOK: Seven for a Secret
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Tamarisk grimaced at her back as she left.

The hot milk tasted delicious. We all took a biscuit.

“Free for a while,” commented Tamarisk.

“Do you do this every day?” I asked.

Tamarisk nodded.

 

“Milk at eleven. Eleven-fifteen, lessons, and they go on till twelve. Then you and Rachel go home.”

Rachel nodded in agreement.

“I expect you think this house is very grand,” said Tamarisk to me.

“It isn’t as grand as the house where my mother was brought up,” I said, feeling a little exaggeration was not amiss.

“It was Cedar Hall.

You may have heard of it. “

Tamarisk shook her head dismissively.

But I was not going to have that. I went into a description imaginary, of course, for I had never been inside Cedar Hall. But I could describe its gracious interior on what I had seen at St. Aubyn’s, making sure to make it more grand, more impressive.

Rachel sat back, listening intently, seeming to sink further and further into her chair.

“Of course,” said Tamarisk, eyeing Rachel, “Rachel doesn’t know what we are talking about.”

“I do,” said Rachel.

“Oh no you don’t. You only live in the old Bell House, and before that, where did you come from? You couldn’t know anything about houses like this, could she, Fred?”

I said: “You can know things. You don’t necessarily have to live in them. Besides, Rachel’s here, isn’t she?”

Rachel looked grateful and from that moment I decided to protect her.

She was small and pretty in a fragile way. I liked Rachel. I was not sure of Tamarisk.

We went on boasting about our houses until Miss Lloyd came in with the maid. The latter took away the tray and we settled down to the lesson.

On that first morning I remember we did geography and English grammar:

and I became quite absorbed, to the pleasure of Miss Lloyd, which was apparent.

It was quite a satisfactory morning until we started to leave for home.

 

1 was to walk back to The Rowans in the company of Rachel, for the Bell House and The Rowans were not very far from each other.

Miss Lloyd smiled benignly on me and said that she was pleased that I had joined them and she was sure I was going to be a satisfactory pupil.

Then she left us and went to the little room which she called her ‘sanctum’ and which was next to the schoolroom.

Tamarisk came down the stairs with us.

“Huh!” she said, giving me a little push.

“I can see you are going to be old Lallie’s pet. Sucking up, that’s what I call it, Fred Hammond.

“I am sure you are going to be a satisfactory pupil.” ” She mimicked Miss Lloyd.

“I don’t like suckers-up,” she added ominously.

“I was only being natural,” I said.

“I like Miss Lloyd and I shall be a satisfactory pupil if I want to. She needs at least one.” Then I looked at Rachel whom I had promised myself to protect, and went on:

“Or two of us.”

“Swot!” said Tamarisk.

“I do hate swots.”

“I’ve come here to learn and that is what we are all supposed to do.

What would be the use of coming otherwise? “

“Just hark at her,” said Tamarisk to Rachel.

Rachel lowered her eyes. No doubt she was used to Tamarisk bullying and felt she had had to accept it as payment for being able to share the lessons. But this sharing was no business of Tamarisk’s. It had been arranged by the grownups, and I was not going to pander to it.

Tamarisk decided to abandon the matter. I was to learn that her moods were short-lived. She could insult one moment and profess friendship the next. I knew in my heart that she was rather pleased that I had come to share the lessons; and the fact that I stood up to her amused her. It broke the monotony of Rachel’s meek acceptance.

As we came down the wide staircase a man was at the bottom waiting to come up.

 

“Hello, Crispin,” said Tamarisk.

Crispin! I thought. The brother! The Lord of the Manor who didn’t want people to forget it.

He was just as I had expected from Aunt Sophie’s description. Tall, lean, with dark hair and light greyish eyes cool eyes rather contemptuous of the world. He was in riding clothes and appeared just to have come in.

He nodded in acknowledgement of his sister’s greeting and his eyes momentarily swept over Rachel and me. Then he ran past us up the stairs.

Tamarisk said: “That’s my brother, Crispin.”

“I know. You said his name.”

“All this is his,” she said proudly, throwing out her arms.

“He didn’t take much notice of you!”

“That was because you were here.”

Then I heard his voice. It was one of those clear voices which carry a long way.

He said: “Who is the plain child with the others?” He was talking to someone up there.

“New, I imagine,” he added.

Tamarisk was suppressing her laughter. I felt the blood rushing to my face. I knew I was not handsome like Tamarisk or pretty like Rachel, but ‘the plain child’! I felt bitterly hurt and humiliated.

“Well,” said Tamarisk, who had little respect for the feelings of others, ‘he did want to know who you were. After all, it’s his house, isn’t it, and you are plain. “

I said: “I don’t care. Miss Lloyd likes me. My aunt likes me. I don’t care what your rude brother thinks.”

“That wasn’t rude. It was just truth.

“Trust must stand when all is failing” or something like that. You’d know that. You’re clever.

You’re old Lallie’s pet. “

We walked to the door and Tamarisk said, without rancour: “Goodbye, see you tomorrow.”

As I walked down the drive with Rachel, I was thinking:

I’m plain.

 

I had never considered it before and now I was faced with the bald truth.

Rachel slipped her arm through mine. She had suffered humiliation herself and knew how I felt. She did not say anything, for which I was grateful, and I walked along in silence, thinking: I’m plain.

We reached the Bell House. It looked attractive in sun shine. As we approached it, a man came out of the gate. He was middleaged with wiry ginger hair which was beginning to turn grey at the temples, and he had a short spiky beard.

He had his hand on the gate and I noticed it was covered with ginger hairs. His mouth was straight and tight and he had small light eyes.

“Good day to you,” he said, and he was looking at me.

“You’ll be the newcomer from The Rowans. You have been having lessons at St. Aubyn’s.”

“This is my uncle,” said Rachel quietly.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Dorian,” I said.

He nodded, moistening his lips with his tongue. I had a sudden feeling of revulsion, which I could not quite under stand, so definite was it.

Rachel had changed too. She seemed a little fearful. But then I supposed she always was.

“The Lord’s blessing on you,” said Mr. Dorian, and he continued to look at me.

I said goodbye and walked on to The Rowans.

Aunt Sophie was waiting there for me with Lily. Lunch was already on the table.

“Well,” said Aunt Sophie, ‘how did it go? “

“Very well.”

“That’s good. I said it would, didn’t I, Lily? I reckon you put the other two in the shade.”

“I reckon you did and all,” said Lily.

“Miss Lloyd seemed to think I was all right. She said she was glad 1 was coming to her to be taught.”

 

They exchanged glances. Then Lily said: “I haven’t sweated over the fire all the morning cooking food that’s let get cold.”

We sat at the table and she served us. I could not eat very much.

“So,” said Aunt Sophie, ‘it was an exciting morning. “

I was glad when I could escape to my room. I looked in the mirror.

Plain! I thought. Well, I was. My hair was dark and, although thick, straight. Tamarisk’s was curly and a lovely colour, Rachel’s waved prettily. My cheeks were smooth but palish, my eyes light brown with long, though pale, brown lashes: I had rather a large nose and a wide mouth.

I was looking at my face when Aunt Sophie came into the room. She sat on the bed.

“Better tell me,” she said.

“What happened? Didn’t it go well?”

“You mean the lessons?”

“I mean everything. Has Tamarisk been getting at you in some way? It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“I can deal with her.”

“I thought you would be able to. She’s a puffed-up balloon. Let out the air and she’s deflated. Poor Tamarisk. She can’t have had the best possible of childhoods. Well, what was it?”

“It was … the brother.”

“Tamarisk’s brother Crispin! Where does he come into this?”

“He was there in the hall when we came out.”

“What did he say to you?”

“He didn’t say anything to me … but about me.”

She was looking at me incredulously. I explained about the brief encounter and how I had heard him say “Who is that plain child?”

“The cad!” she said.

“You don’t want to take any notice of him.”

5i

“But it’s true. He said I was plain.”

“You’re not. You don’t want to listen to such nonsense.”

“It is true, though. I’m not pretty like Tamarisk and Rachel.”

“You’ve got something more than mere prettiness, my child. There is something special about you. You’re interesting. That’s what’s important. I’m glad you are the one who’s my niece. I shouldn’t have wanted the others.”

“Really?”

“Most certainly.”

“My nose ;’s big.”

“I like a nose to be a nose … not like a bit of putty that’s just been stuck on.”

I couldn’t help laughing and she went on: “Big noses have character.

Give me a big nose any day! “

I said: “Yours isn’t very big. Aunt Sophie.”

“You take after your father. He had a good nose. He was one of the most handsome men I ever saw. You’ve got good eyes. Expressive.

Bright. They show your feelings. That’s what eyes are for-and to see through, of course. Now, don’t you fret. People say things like that when they’re not thinking much. He was in a hurry, that was what it was, and he didn’t look properly. “

“He just glanced at me and that was all.”

“There you are. He’d say that about anyone. If you’re plain, then I’m Napoleon Bonaparte. So there!”

I could not help laughing. Dear Aunt Sophie! She had rescued me once more.

So from Monday to Friday I went regularly to St. Aubyn’s. I used to meet Rachel at the gate of the Bell House and we would walk to the house and go up the drive together. We formed an alliance against Tamarisk and I became a kind of champion to Rachel.

 

But 1 never forgot Crispin St. Aubyn’s comment. It had made a difference to me. I was not plain. Aunt Sophie had made that clear. I had good hair, she insisted. It was fine but abundant. I brushed it until it shone. I often wore it loose about my shoulders instead of in the severe-looking plaits. I made sure my clothes were never crumpled. Tamarisk was aware of this. She did not comment, but she smiled secretively.

She was friendly towards me. Sometimes I think she tried to woo me from my alliance with Rachel. I was pleased and rather flattered.

I saw Crispin St. Aubyn only rarely and usually from a distance. He was clearly not interested in his young sister and her companions.

Aunt Sophie had said he was ‘a cad’, and he was, I assured myself. He was trying to impress everybody with his importance. He was not going to impress Aunt Sophie or me.

One day when I went to meet Rachel, she was not there. I was a little early. The gate to the Bell House was open so I went into the front garden. There was a seat there and I sat down to wait for her.

I gazed at the house. It was indeed gracious, more charming, I decided, than St. Aubyn’s Park. It ought to be a happy house, a cosy house, yet I was sure it was not. Tamarisk might be neglected by her family and have been brought up by nurses, but perhaps there could be something to be said for that after all. Rachel was not carefree as she was. Rachel was timid . afraid of something. I felt it might be something in that house.

Perhaps 1 was a romancer. Meg said I was a dreamer with my fancies, making up stories about people . and half of them without a trace of truth in them.

I heard a voice behind me.

“Good morning, my dear.”

It was Mr. Dorian, Rachel’s uncle, and I felt that urge to

 

get up and run away from him as fast as I could. Why? His voice was very kind.

“So you are waiting for Rachel?”

“Yes,” I said, getting up, for he was preparing to sit down beside me.

He laid a hand on my arm and drew me back on to the seat.

He was looking at me intently.

“You like your lessons with Miss Lloyd?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“That is good … that is very good.”

He was sitting very close to me.

“We shall have to go,” I said.

“We shall be late.”

Then I saw, with relief, that Rachel was coming out of the house.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” began Rachel. Then she saw her uncle.

“You have kept Frederica waiting,” said her uncle with gentle reproach.

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

“Come on then,” I said, eager to get away.

“Be good girls,” said Mr. Dorian.

“The Lord bless you both.”

As we went I saw him looking after us. I could not think why but he made me shiver.

Rachel did not say anything, but she was often quiet. Yet somehow I believed she knew how I was feeling.

The memory of Mr. Dorian lingered for a while. It was faintly unpleasant so I tried to forget it; but when I next called for Rachel I did not go into the garden but waited outside.

Miss Lloyd and I got on very well together and it was gratifying to be aware that I was her favourite pupil. She said I was responsive. We shared a love of poetry and often we analysed it together while Rachel looked bewildered and Tamarisk bored, as though what we discussed was beneath her notice.

 

Miss Lloyd said it would be pleasant if Rachel and I were asked to have tea with Tamarisk.

“Don’t you agree. Tamarisk?” she asked.

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