The Love Child (13 page)

like to be young and in love. You must make the most of it, dear child.”

“Harriet, do you think we could possibly marry?”

“Why not?”

“My parents would consider me too young.”

“Girls marry at your age, don’t they? Why shouldn’t you?”

“Myfather…”

She laughed. “Your father is like so many of his kind. I’ll swear he was adventuring when he was your age. Men such as he is believe there is one law for their sex and another for ours. It is for us to show them that this is not so. I have always snapped my fingers at men like that.”

“I hadn’t seriously thought of marriage … not yet, of course. I thought we might be betrothed.”

“Beware of betrothals followed by separations. They work only in rare cases. However, we have to think of getting him out of the country. That’s the first thing.”

“When, Harriet?”

“Before the week is out. Gregory has made most of the arrangements. It might well be within the next few days. So make the most of tomorrow. You’ll be able to talk in freedom on the Eyot. There’ll be only the gulls and the ghosts for company. Christabel will be there with you as chaperone but send her off to explore the ruins.”

“She will go willingly. She is completely involved.”

“Tell me abut Christabel.”

I told her.

“So your father brought her into the house.” A slow smile played about her lips.

“What did your mother say to that?”

“She thought Christabel very suitable for the post of governess.”

“Dear Arabella! Well, I’ll tell you something, Priscilla. Mistress Christabel is more than a little envious of you.”

“Envious of me!”

“I sensed it. Where does she come from? That rectory, you say. And her father was the rector.”

“She had a very unhappy childhood.”

“Perhaps that is it,” said Harriet. “Well, my dear Priscilla, it is tune you slept.

Good night. Bless you.”

She kissed me tenderly.

I slept little. I was too excited and I was looking forward to the next day with such intensity that I found it hard to think of anything else.

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I was up early the next morning. There was a faint mist in the air and the previous night’s wind had dropped. It was arranged that we should set out at midday, and Harriet said that a basket of food was being prepared for us.

I was afraid to be too much in Jocelyn’s company for fear I might betray my feelings, and I was longing to be able to throw off this restraint and talk freely.

It must have been soon after eleven o’clock when I went to my room to prepare for the trip. I looked out of the window and saw Christabel in the garden talking to one of the gardeners. They were looking up at the sky and I guessed they were discussing the weather. I had been anxious that nothing should stop our going because I knew that very soon now Jocelyn would be crossing the Channel and then how could I know when I should see him again?

At half-past eleven Christabel came to my room.

“I have such a headache,” she said. “I woke up with it. I was hoping it would pass but I’m afraid it only grows worse.”

I felt apprehensive. Was she suggesting that she felt too unwell to come? There was soon no doubt of this for she went on: “Priscilla, I wonder whether you would mind very much …”

I said quickly: “Of course if you don’t feel well enough to come, you can’t.”

She was deeply concerned. “That it should be now …” she began feebly. This was the first time I had ever heard her speak of an ailment.

“I have had headaches in the past,” she went on. “Awful, blinding headaches. I thought I had grown out of them. The last one came a year or so ago. I had to lie in a darkened room until it passed.”

“Go to your room and lie down now,” I said.

“But I know what store you set on this. You want to be able to talk to him, don’t you?”

“I shall go in any case.”

She looked taken aback. Indeed I was a little amazed myself. A few days ago I should have thought it impossible for me to be alone with a young man. I thought of my conversation with Harriet. Harriet would have gone. She knew how to live. If I did not snatch this chance of being alone with Jocelyn I might regret it all my life.

I had definitely decided to go.

There was no doubt about Jocelyn’s pleasure when I saw him. He was carrying the basket of food and together we walked down to the shore.

“I’m speechless,” he said, “but you know how I feel.”

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“I’m sure I feel the same.”

“There is so much to talk about.”

“Let’s wait until we are on the island.”

“No one can hear us now.”

“I shan’t feel we’re safe until we are there,” I said.

We got into the boat. I could see the island but the horizon was obscured by mist.

Jocelyn rowed steadily and within less than half an hour the bottorn of the boat was scraping against the sandy shore of the island. As it loomed up before us I had to admit it looked ghostly in the greyish light.

Jocelyn took my hand as he helped me get out. He clung to it for a long time and then kissed it.

I looked over my shoulder furtively and he laughed at me. “There’s no one here but us, Priscilla.”

“I’m so fearful for you.”

“But we’re here … alone.”

“I mean I’m afraid of what’s going to happen.”

He released me to tether the boat. Then we walked up the slope to the ruins of the abbey.

“I shall be going to France shortly,” he said. “I shall be safe there. You must come to me, Priscilla.”

“They’ll never allow me to.”

“I’ve talked it over with Harriet. We could be married. Then you could come with me.”

“My parents would never agree.”

“I meant we would marry and tell them afterwards.”

My happiness was tinged with sorrow. My mother would be so hurt if I acted in such a secretive way. It was hard to explain to Jocelyn how close I had been to her. There was a special relationship between us which was in part due to my father’s indifference towards me. I knew how deeply grieved she would be if I took such a step secretly, for it would mean I was shutting her out of my life.

I shook my head.

“I’m going to tell you all the reasons why that would be the best thing for us to do,” said Jocelyn. “I’ve talked it over with Harriet.”

“Harriet thinks we should marry!” I cried. “She really means we should do it without my parents’ consent!”

“Harriet is a wonderful person. That is the sort of thing she has been doing all her life, and did you ever know a more contented woman?”

“She has been very lucky, I think.”

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“She has been bold. She has taken what she wanted from life and been content with it.”

“One cannot always take what one wants. There are others to be considered.”

“There are the two of us.”

“And my mother.”

“She has probably planned some marriage for you. I admit at the moment she would not want to see an alliance between her family and ours. But this madness is going to pass. Then I can tell you the Frintons are not without some standing.”

“Oh, Jocelyn, if only we could!”

“We’re going to talk about it. It’s wonderful that we have this time together.”

“Christabel had a headache. Apparently she has them badly now and then.”

“Kind Christabel! Perhaps she knew how much I wanted to be with you alone.”

We had come to what was left of the wall. We stepped over it. It was an impressive sight-those great stone walls which had once housed the monks now lay in ruins and yet there was enough of the abbey left for one to be able to reconstruct it in the mind. The remains of stone arches through which the grey sky could now be seen left memories of grandeur; here and there were stone flags, some as they must have been before the Dissolution; grass grew in between others. We found a room which was entered through a massive wooden door which had somehow withstood the winds and salt spray of centuries. It was open to the sky, the roof having long ago disappeared, but otherwise it was complete. The long slips of windows looked out on the sea.

“I was fascinated by it all,” said Jocelyn, “when I came over a few days ago for the first time. I thought it would be a good place to hide so I went over it very carefully. You get a certain amount of shelter here in this room, though if there was a strong wind it would whistle through those unglazed windows. I suppose that’s how they were long ago. The monks lived Spartan lives though, and must have been unaffected by the cold.” He turned to me and put his arms about me. “There,” he said, “you feel safe now, don’t you? We’re here alone … you and I on this island. The thought of that thrills me. It has seemed so long, Priscilla, and at times I wondered if I should ever see you again.”

I remembered the ring suddenly and a cold shiver ran through me. I had to confess without delay. I told him what had happened.

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“Are you sure it’s behind this court cupboard?”

“Absolutely. There is nowhere else it could possibly be. They move it only once a year. It is very heavy.”

“When you find it, will you wear it?”

“I will. I was afraid to before. That’s really why it was lost. Leigh said that it would arouse comment and it did have your family name inside.”

“Oh, yes, it has been handed down through the family for generations. That’s why I wanted you to have it.”

I felt so relieved that he was not put out about the ring and I told myself that I must set aside my fears and enjoy this day.

“Oh, Jocelyn,” I cried, “isn’t it wonderful to be here … alone together!”

He kissed me tenderly. “And to know we have a few hours here,” he added.

“It is only just past midday,” I said. “What shall we do first?”

“Explore the island and talk and talk. Then we’ll have our picnic and talk some more, and I shall look at you all the time. I want to watch the way you smile. There’s the tiniest dimple at the side of your mouth when you do. I love the way your hair falls back from your face. It’s so different from those hideous curls they call ‘favourites’

at Court. I love your brown eyes, and I think how much more beautiful they are than blue ones.”

“You’re prejudiced,” I said. “I think you only like these things because they’re mine.”

“There could not be a better reason,” he replied.

I think we were both a little afraid of the emotions we aroused in each other. I was happy just to be with him, but I could not forget that he was a hunted man and that this was only a temporary refuge. I was tremendously excited by the thought of getting married. It seemed so impossible and yet why should it be? The circumstances were exceptional. I listened to the melancholy screeching of the gulls. It was as though they were warning me that there was not much tune.

If he went to France, I told myself, I could go with him. If we were married I most certainly would. But could I leave my family like that?

I wished that Leigh were there so that I could have talked to him. That struck me as strange, for when I was very young, secretly deep down in my heart I had promised myself that when I grew up I would marry Leigh.

We explored the abbey ruins. We found the refectory and the reading gallery.

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“This must have been the chapter house,” said Jocelyn, but I did not think he was very much interested in the ruins. We were both overwhelmed by the significance of our being alone together. I did not know what I wanted to do except cling to him and keep him safe. I wished the boat could come straight to the Eyot and carry us both to France.

There was a strange atmosphere on that lonely island. It was such a still day. The mist hung in wisps which did not move. They looked strange-grey and ghostly.

“There’s the church tower,” I pointed out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the bells started to ring and we saw the black figures of the monks coming in to complines.”

“Not the right time of day,” said Jocelyn promptly, and I remembered then that he was a Catholic and that would be a further reason why my family would be upset. My father was firmly Protestant. Not that he was a truly religious man. Religion with him was a form of politics. I knew that he would not be pleased for me to marry into a prominent Catholic family, and that it should be one which was in danger would infuriate him.

Strangely enough, I thought about him as often as I did about my mother. I pictured myself saying to him: “What does it matter to you? You never cared about me. What difference can it make to you whom I marry?” There was bitterness there. I had cared deeply about his neglect of me. And I still cared.

“Where shall we have our picnic?” asked Jocelyn.

I laughed happily. “I seem to be indulging in more al fresco picnics this winter than I ever did during any summer.”

“I shall never forget the picnic by the cave … you and I together,” he said.

“I don’t think I have ever been so frightened as I was when that dog came into the cave.”

“Neither so frightened nor so happy,” he answered. “I knew you loved me in that moment.”

“I knew it, too. It took danger to reveal it to me.”

“Priscilla, you are very young.”

“I am not too young,” I answered.

Then he turned to me and kissed me with a mingling of tenderness and passion which moved me deeply.

“Shall we go into that room? I think they would have called it the scriptorium. There would be shelter there. I’ll get the rugs out of the boat and we’ll spread them out on the flags there. Then we’ll eat in our roofless heaven. What do you think?”

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“It sounds wonderful. Let’s do it.”

We laughed together as I spread the cloth and brought out the cold beef and pies which had been packed for us with the cider to quench our thirst.

“There is ample here,” I said. “Enough for three. Of course some of it was for Christabel.”

“It was good of her to give us this tune to ourselves,” said Jocelyn.

“Do you think she did it purposely?”

“I do,” he answered.

I was thoughtful. I was not sure.

We leaned against the wall of the scriptorium and I looked up at the grey mist through what was left of the roof.