The Return of the Gypsy (47 page)

Clare was looking at me with horror in her eyes.

The doctor said: “Was the bottle within his grasp?”

I knew that question was fraught with meaning. Had Edward taken the strong dose himself or had it been given to him?

James hesitated. “It was in the cupboard beside his bed. I suppose he could just have managed to get the door open and take out the bottle.”

The doctor nodded. “There will have to be an autopsy, of course.”

A terrible fear had started to race round and round in my mind. I was trying to remember all that had happened last night. Jake had helped Toby carry Edward in. The glass had been beside his bed when I entered the room. I had actually given it to him.

How much of the drug had been dissolved in that water? One small dose was all that must be taken. It was dangerous to take more. That was clearly stated and the doctor had warned us many times that more than the prescribed dose could be fatal.

Jake had been there. He had helped Toby to bring Edward in. He had killed a man once and he had said only this night: “I will find a way.”

I was desperately afraid.

The doctor had just left and we were seated together in the drawing room—myself, Clare and Jake with James. A terrible silence had fallen on us. I dared not look at Clare; I could see the accusation in her eyes. I dared not look at Jake. I was terribly afraid of what I might read in his eyes.

At length James spoke: “How could it have happened? I did not think he would ever attempt it. He was a man who believed that life had to be lived to the end no matter what tribulations had to be faced. It would have been all against his nature … as I knew it.”

Jake said: “Where was the stuff? Could he have reached it?”

“Yes … just,” said James. “The little cabinet served as a table. It wouldn’t have been easy for him to reach the bottle but he could have done so.”

“He would never have done it,” burst out Clare. “I know he would never have done it.”

“What alternative is there?” asked Jake in a curiously quiet voice.

There was silence and I felt Clare’s eyes on me accusingly. I raised mine and looked at Jake. For a few moments his gaze held mine. I did not know what I read there. But the thought would come to me. He killed a man once. He had done that in the heat of anger. If one had killed once did it come easily to do it a second time?

No, I thought. Not that. There had been a barrier between us before. That would be an insurmountable one. I must know the truth. I should not have a moment’s peace until I did.

I heard myself saying: “What actually happened last night? When could it have been put in the glass? Was Edward alone for any time?”

James said: “Sir Jake and Toby helped him out of the chair. We got him into bed between us. I poured out the water and put in the sleeping draught. I put it on top of the cabinet. We talked as we always did. He was in good spirits but of course he always did hide his feelings. What happened then? I think we all went out.”

“I believe I lingered to say a few words to him,” said Jake.

My heart began to beat very fast. Oh, Jake, I thought, were you alone with him … even for a few minutes?

“Well, Mr. Barrington was by himself until you came in, Mrs. Barrington.”

“Had he taken the sleeping draught then?” asked Jake.

“No. He usually took it while I was there… just as I was leaving actually. He didn’t want to feel sleepy while we were talking. I stayed a while. We talked as usual. He drank it while I was there. Then I took the glass from him and put it on top of the cabinet.”

“I can’t understand it,” said James. “And on Christmas night! If he had contemplated doing it he would surely not have chosen Christmas night.”

“You think the time is important?” said Clare harshly.

“Well,” explained James, “he would think of people enjoying Christmas. He was always one to think of other people. No. It was a mistake. He would never have killed himself in the first place … and certainly not on Christmas night.”

“Then,” said Clare, and I noticed how her eyes glittered, “someone else must have done it.”

There was silence with none of us daring to look at each other.

Suddenly I knew I could endure no more. I stood up and said: “There will be things to do.” And I went out of the room.

I cannot remember much of the rest of that day, except that it was like a bad dream. Messages were sent to Mr. and Mrs. Barrington. My father and mother came to Grasslands. They were deeply shocked. Amaryllis came over with Peter.

Amaryllis was deeply moved; she embraced me with great affection. “Dear, dear Jessica, this is terrible. Poor Edward! But it is those who are left who suffer. He was such a good man, and he loved you so much.”

I knew that whatever happened I would always have Amaryllis’ support and affection. I noticed Peter watching me rather sardonically. I dared not think what was going on in his mind.

My mother said: “Would you like to come back with us to Eversleigh? Your father says you are not to worry. He is going to take charge of everything. There’ll have to be an inquest. Perhaps it would be better for you to stay with us until that is over.”

I said I would stay at Grasslands.

“What about Tamarisk? Perhaps I’ll take her back with me. Jonathan can come over and persuade her if she is difficult.”

“Yes,” I said. “I should be glad of that. It is no place for her.”

“I expect the Barringtons will be here soon. What a terrible blow to them! They are such a devoted family and Edward was the apple of their eyes … particularly I think since his infirmity.”

The long day dragged into evening and I was glad when it was time to retire. I had avoided Jake all day. There was so much I wanted to say to him and so much I was afraid to say. I thought that if I asked him outright he would tell me the truth.

But did I want to know the truth? In my heart I was terrified of it.

I went to bed but I knew I should not sleep. I lay there, my eyes shut, thinking of the previous night and trying to recall every second, what Edward had said, what I had said. Had he seemed different? I was trying to read something in his words, something significant. I was trying to make myself believe that there was a possibility that Edward had taken his own life. If he had, then it was what he wished. I remembered how he had persuaded me to dance with Jake. I had looked over my shoulder and seen his eyes following me wistfully.

If Edward had taken his life it must have been what he wished. He had a right to leave this world if it had become intolerable to him. But no one else had a right to banish him from it. Only if I could be sure that Edward had wished to die and had taken the action himself, could I begin to grow away from the tragedy. No one … not even Jake … could make me truly happy again if that were not so.

How could I know?

The door of my bedroom opened quietly. For a moment I thought it was Jake and sat up ready to protest. It was not Jake. It was Clare.

She stood at the end of my bed. “Edward is dead,” she said, as though I did not know it. “He had to die, didn’t he? Otherwise how could you marry your lover?”

“What are you saying?”

“Surely you know. I loved Edward as you could never love anyone. When I came to them I was only seven years old, the poor relation. Oh, they were kind, but he gave me a special sort of kindness. He made me feel as though I were a person … not just a poor relation taken in because I had nowhere else to go. He was different. He was fond of me. I believe he would have been very fond of me. But you had to come along and spoil it.”

“I’m sorry, Clare.”

“Sorry? I don’t suppose you ever thought of him… or me … or anyone but yourself. You wouldn’t have him for a long time and then you decided you would. After that you made the grand gesture, didn’t you? He was crippled. He would never walk again, so you would show everyone how noble you were.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I know how it was. You thought Peter Lansdon wanted you. You thought every man must want you. And when he turned to Amaryllis it was a great shock, so you thought, All right, I’ll take Edward. So you did. That was why you became engaged to him. And then you got tired of it, didn’t you? I would have given my whole life to nursing him. But you took a lover, didn’t you … the dashing Sir Jake.”

“You don’t understand, Clare.”

“I understand everything. Do you think I am blind? I know what is going on. And I have proof.”

I stared at her and she laughed at me. “It’s all rather clear. He set it down, didn’t he? I have two letters he wrote to you. Don’t think you are going to brush me aside again. It’s evidence, you know. I will show them the letters. You were both with him that night. Sir Jake was there. Did he put in the extra dose or did you? Perhaps when you went in to say goodnight to him? You actually handed it to him, didn’t you? You said you did. Which one put in the fatal dose is anyone’s guess. But it was you who handed it to him.”

“Clare, Clare, what are you saying?”

“That you and your lover between you killed Edward.”

“It’s not true. I wouldn’t have hurt him for …”

“Wouldn’t you? When you had your lover staying in this very house?”

“There is so much that you don’t know.”

“And so much I do, eh? Don’t imagine I shall stand by and let you get away with this. I am going to show them at the inquest. I am going to give them proof.”

“It is no proof.”

“It is proof that two people in this house wanted Edward dead, and both of those people were with him on the night. They both had an opportunity of putting the dose into the water.”

“Clare, this is madness.”

“It sounds like common sense to me.”

With that she went out and left me.

I lay down. So she had the letters and she would show them. Jake and I would be exposed as having had a motive for murder. I would never have hurt Edward willingly. But Jake?

There was no sleep for me all through the night.

I rose early next morning. I went to the stables and saddled a horse. I had to
get
out of the house. I had to be alone to think. I rode down to the sea and galloped along the shore. There was no joy in the exercise on that morning. One thought was hammering in my mind; Clare had the letters. She it was who had stolen them. I had guessed correctly.

I could not face Jake yet. I was too much afraid of what I would discover.

There was one to whom I had turned during the whole of my life when I was in trouble: My mother.

I left the shore and rode to Eversleigh.

She expressed no surprise to see me. I said: “I have to talk to you at once … alone.”

“Of course,” she said.

She took me into the little sitting room which led from the hall. She shut the door and said: “No one will come here.”

I told her everything—that Jake and I were lovers. I told her of my remorse and my determination not to hurt Edward.

She nodded, understanding.

She said: “It was natural, Jessica. You cannot be blamed.”

But when I told her of the letters which had been written by Jake and stolen by Clare, she was very grave.

“It was clear from what he had written that we had been lovers,” I told her, “that he was impatient and wanted me to go away with him. She threatens to produce them and use them against me.”

My mother was silent. I could see that she was very disturbed.

“I’m afraid,” I concluded. “It will appear that either Jake or I… or the two of us together … planned to kill Edward.”

“Those letters must not be seen by anyone else,” she said.

“Clare has always hated me. She loved Edward and hoped to marry him. Perhaps if it were not for me she might have done so. She will never forgive me, and now she sees this chance …”

“It’s got to be stopped.”

“She is determined.”

“We must get hold of those letters before the inquest,” said my mother firmly.

“She will never give them up.”

She said then what she had always said in the past and which I had often laughed at: “I’ll talk to your father.”

I did not laugh now.

She went on: “My dear, you should go back to Grasslands now. I am going to suggest that Jake comes over to Eversleigh. It would be better that he is not in the house with you. We’ll explain that as things are it is better for him to be with us. Tamarisk is here, and Jonathan is being very good and giving her a lot of attention. It is not right for children to know too much of these things. The Barringtons will be here soon. Clare will be in the house of course. I hope she will not give too much trouble.”

I clung to her. She kissed me and said: “Everything will be all right. Your father and I will see to that.”

Jake saw the point of staying at Eversleigh. I did not have a chance to speak to him alone before he went. I did not seek it. If I had been alone with him I should have had to ask him outright if he had killed Edward, and I was afraid of the answer.

Mr. and Mrs. Barrington arrived. Their daughter Irene and her husband came with them. They had left the children with their paternal grandparents. They were heartbroken. Mrs. Barrington clung to me and wept.

Later we talked together. She said: “He was so noble, my dear Edward. He was always such a good boy, so thoughtful to others … always. When you married him he could not believe his good fortune. Poor dear boy! That he should be the one to suffer from those wicked men! But then you showed your love for him as few would have done, and I shall never forget it. You made him so happy. I blessed the day when you came into his life.”

I thought: Clare will talk to her. Clare will produce the letters. What will she think of me then? What would she say had she known that I had broken my marriage vows? She would have a different opinion of me then.

My parents came to Grasslands. They did not talk a great deal about the tragedy. In fact my father scarcely mentioned it except once when he said: “Poor Edward, he could see no future for himself. I would have been the same. Better to get out than the way it was.”

He had made up his mind that Edward had killed himself and he was the sort of man who would make sure that everyone agreed with him.