The Pool of St. Branok (46 page)

I found it stimulating … even on that first day and when I lay in bed that night I was still thinking of Ben in his splendid house with Lizzie who had hardly spoken a word throughout the entire evening; and I did wonder what the future would hold.

Within a week I was settled in my house. Amaryllis and Helena helped me choose a few servants and there was a nanny to help with Rebecca. My daughter was enchanted by London. She loved the parks. Rebecca had great charm. She believed that everyone loved her and consequently she loved everybody; she enjoyed life and could not help sharing that enjoyment. Each day I thanked God for her. She was remarkably like Gervaise; she had his nature, too, which had been a delightful one flawed only by that obsession which I was determined to see never took possession of Rebecca.

Morwenna, too, had settled in. Justin was happy and that was good enough for her; and the children were always eager to see each other.

One day, very soon after I had settled in, Ben came to see me. It was mid-morning, Annie had taken Rebecca to Morwenna’s house. She was going to spend the morning with Pedrek; and as I had planned to do some shopping, I was almost ready to go when Maggie, my new maid, came to tell me a gentleman had called to see me.

“Did he give his name?” I asked.

“Yes, Madam. Mr. Lansdon.”

I expected to see Uncle Peter.

“Ben!” I gasped.

“Well, don’t look so surprised. You knew I’d come to see you. It is wonderful that you are here.”

“Why?”

“What a question! Because what I want more than anything is to see you, is the answer.”

“Would you like some refreshment? Tea? Coffee? Wine?”

“No, thanks. To see you is refreshment enough for me.”

I laughed with an attempt at lightness.

“So the gold ran out and you came back.”

“I never intended to stay. No, it has not run out. There is a certain amount left.”

“But all the certainty has gone. Now it is more or less like any of the others, I suppose.”

“Better than that. I’ve left some for the others.”

“And sold at a good price?”

“A price the buyer thought it worth paying. But I didn’t come here to talk business.”

“What did you come to talk?”

“I just wanted to be with you.”

As he approached me I stepped back. “Nothing has changed,” I said.

“No, I suppose not,” he answered ruefully. “I have missed you so much. I think of you constantly. You remembered me perhaps?”

“There has been a lot to think of.”

“And now we are both in London.”

“I did not know you were here until I had made my plans to come.”

“Would it have made any difference if you had known before?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s stop talking around all this, shall we? I love you, Angel. I have from the first. When you were a little girl … Oh why were you only nine years old when we first met? If only it could have been different.”

“What are you complaining of? You got your mine. If you had married me, you wouldn’t have had that.”

“I know. You should have come to me before. … We would have come home. Gervaise would have divorced you …”

“You are very glib about other people’s divorces.”

“I know now,” he said, “that being with you, loving you … would have been more important to me than anything.”

“More so than the gold mine?”

“Yes. I’d have found some other way to fortune … just as my grandfather did. I am very like him. We think alike.”

“In politics?”

“Yes, in politics. It doesn’t matter if we are on different sides, I don’t mean opinions. I mean aims … the way we set about everything. There is no doubt that I am his grandson. And about us, Angel. Things haven’t worked out as we wanted them to. We were both in the wrong place when we should have been together. That’s how life goes. But if you don’t get exactly what you want you have to take something.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“That we love each other. We are here. It can’t be quite as we wished … but why shouldn’t we have something?”

“You mean some clandestine love affair?”

“I mean … something. We can’t just give everything up … because one of us isn’t free. First it was you … and now I am the one.”

“And Lizzie?”

“Ah, Lizzie. She is a good girl and very innocent. I could never leave Lizzie. I feel I have a duty to her. I have promised her father that I will always care for her. She needs care.”

“Your promise was a part of the price you paid for your gold mine.”

“Do you remember long ago … when we were on the moor together and you told me the story of the men in the tin mine who found gold? Those little people showed it them and the men made a bargain always to leave part of their findings to them? And they did?”

“Yes, I remember. It’s a well-known legend.”

“And when the sons failed … the gold failed, too.”

“Are you afraid that if you deserted Lizzie, the gold would fail? But you have finished with the gold. You have your fortune.”

“I mean that if I hurt her in any way I should lose something of myself … my self-respect, shall we say?”

“Oh, Ben, you have suddenly become very noble.”

“I have never been that, as you know. But try to understand my feelings for Lizzie.”

“You regard her as some sort of talisman … like the knackers in the mine who could make some evil befall you if you deserted her … But not so deeply that you would be prepared to have a degrading love affair with someone else … degrading to you … to me … and to Lizzie.”

“You are being over-dramatic.”

“No, Ben, I am not.”

“You love me, do you not?”

I hesitated.

“I know that you don’t want to answer because the answer is yes. You have never forgotten me.”

I said: “We did share a shattering experience. You know what happened a little while ago?”

“Yes, I heard of it. They found a watch or something with his initials on it. That must have been a shock for you.”

“I felt nothing more than relief at first. I had feared they would find Rebecca. She was lost and it was for that reason that they dragged the pool.”

“My poor Angel! What a terrible thing for you.”

“And all the time she was well. She had been taken by a woman who had lost her child and thought Rebecca was hers.”

He put his arms about me and for a few moments I allowed myself the luxury of laying my head against him.

Quickly I drew away.

I said: “I think, Ben, it would be better if we did not see each other … alone. We shall meet at the family gatherings, of course. That must be enough.”

“It will not be enough for me,” he said.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“We are having a dinner party next Wednesday. You have not seen my house yet. Do come.”

“Who will be there?”

“My grandfather and Amaryllis, of course, Helena and Matthew and friends. I am hoping to be adopted as candidate for Manorleigh which is in Essex. There are people I should get to know.”

I smiled knowledgeably.

He added: “Peterkin and Frances I hope will be there. They are, I fear, not very interested in these occasions.”

“But they are good for you,” I said. “Connections devoted to good works and all that.”

He smiled.

“Yes,” I said. “You are very like Uncle Peter.”

“Grace Hume has been very helpful. She has been very good on several occasions. Lizzie clings to her. Poor Lizzie, she loses her head and is sure everything is going wrong … and she is no good as a hostess … but with Grace there beside her she doesn’t do too badly.”

“Grace has always been a help in the family ever since she came … years ago. … Do you remember?”

“That never-to-be-forgotten time.”

“She was there when …”

“Yes, I remember. Well, she helps Lizzie with clothes and things and it is really amazing how she does it. She is often at our place—as a matter of fact when there is something special on she comes and stays.”

“I am glad she is of use. In time Lizzie will get accustomed to it and she’ll make a good Prime Minister’s wife. I suppose that is the office for which you are aiming.”

“It is always a good plan in life to aim high. You may not get right there but you get somewhere.”

“I am sure you are right.”

“So we shall see you on Wednesday?”

“I shall be there.”

“I thought I had better ask Justin and Morwenna. They can escort you.”

“You think of everything.”

He came to me suddenly and took both my hands.

“I am not going to let you go, you know. I’ll find some way.”

“There is no way,” I replied. “There can be no way.”

“There is always something,” he said firmly.

Grace visited me.

There was a subtle change in her; her step was more springy and there was a certain radiance about her.

I thought: Can it be that she is in love?

I remembered what Aunt Amaryllis had written of her. She believed she wanted a husband. It was just a matter of the right one’s coming along. One could not expect her to go on grieving for Jonnie forever.

I waited for confidences, but none came.

Instead she wanted to talk about Lizzie.

“She is such a dear creature,” she said. “I was drawn to her the moment I saw her.”

“Ben told me how good you have been to her.”

“Oh, have you seen Ben?”

I did not want to tell her that he had come to see me. I said: “He was at dinner the night I arrived.”

“Of course. He is so kind and patient. It is a little trying for him at times.”

“Do you mean … Lizzie?”

She nodded.

“He married her,” I reminded Grace.

“Yes, I know. I believe he was very sorry for her.”

I smiled. “She brought him a good deal.”

“I know her father owned the land on which Ben found gold. He has often told us that. Lizzie is delighted about it. She has told me how much. She hasn’t an idea what is expected of her. But she is getting on … a little. I’m doing all I can for her.”

“And that is a great deal I gather.”

“Did Ben say so?”

“Yes.”

She smiled, well pleased. “She tries so hard. It’s rather pathetic. She wants to be a credit to him.”

“Of course. He is going far.”

“In politics you mean.”

“He is one of those men who will always succeed. He had luck in marrying Lizzie.”

“You’re referring to the land that came with her … and the gold.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Don’t you like Ben, Angelet?”

I felt my face twist into a wry smile. “Oh,” I said, trying to speak lightly, “he is clever and amusing and all that.”

“You speak as though you don’t approve.”

“It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. He is happy presumably. I believe he has a splendid house and brilliant prospects. What more can he want? Lizzie, of course, is another matter.”

She wrinkled her brows and looked intently at me. “You are rather vehement.”

“Am I? I didn’t realize it. Tell me, how are things with you? What do you do all the time?”

“I have so little time to spare. I have entertained a little. Of course, my house is rather small. I have some amusing dinner parties. The Lansdons senior have always been good to me and so have Helena and Matthew. They invite me to their houses and there I meet interesting people and ask a few of them to my place. But since Ben and Lizzie came I seem to have much more to do.”

“Ben said you have acted as a sort of duenna to Lizzie.”

“Did he?” She smiled rather complacently. “Well, I couldn’t let the poor innocent little thing loose in the jungle, could I?”

“You call the social circle a jungle?”

“It is in a way. She is such an innocent lamb, and as to clothes, she has no idea how to dress.”

“I thought she looked very charming the other night.”

“My guidance, my dear. I steer her through. I tell her to talk to people … what to say … what they are interested in. She is doing quite well. By the way, there was no more news about that man and the watch, was there?”

“No,” I told her, “nothing at all.”

“I don’t suppose we shall hear any more of it. That’s as well, don’t you agree?”

I did agree.

And I thought to myself: Something has happened. I wonder what.

I was amazed at the grandeur of Ben’s house. Uncle Peter’s had always seemed splendid, but this was more so.

There were chandeliers in the hall and at the top of the wide staircase where Ben and Lizzie stood receiving their guests. Grace was standing a little to the side—like a lady-in-waiting.

There were about thirty guests, many of them well known in political circles. Uncle Peter came up to me. He took my hand and kissed it.

“What do you think of this establishment?” he asked.

“Quite glorious,” I replied.

“To tell the truth I’m a little envious. It took Ben to outdo me.”

“People say he is a chip off the old block.”

“I often regret it took us so long to get together. Irregularities in family life cause so many regrets. I suppose that was why the conventions were thought of in the first place. If you obey them, you sail peacefully through life.”

“Wouldn’t that be a little dull for someone of your temperament?”

“Perhaps,” he said. “But I should not advise anyone embarking on life to fly in the face of them.”

“To be different from you … and Ben … who have been so successful?”

“We are of a kind. We shouldn’t founder. Some would. I once heard a story about Walter Raleigh and the Queen. He scratched on the glass of a window with a diamond, ‘Fain would I climb, but fear I to fall.’ The Queen took the diamond from him and scratched underneath, ‘If your heart fails you, climb not at all.’ They were very careless with their property. Fancy disfiguring a beautiful window in that way! But perhaps for such sound good sense it was worth it.”

“You were never afraid to climb.”

“Oh no, I suppose not, and I have done some dangerous mountaineering in my time. Ben is like me. Far more than Peterkin is … or Helena for that matter.”

“Yes,” I mused. “You must have been a very attractive man when you were young, Uncle Peter.”