The adulteress (25 page)

"Leave the dust for today," said the doctor.

"You'll be wanting breakfast," said Jessie to me, and I followed her into the winter parlor. There was oaten bread with ale and cold bacon. I noticed Jessie lick her lips as she surveyed it.

"You must be hungry. You must eat well while you're here. I know what it's like traveling. Never cared much for inn meals myself."

I ate a little of the bacon and the bread. It was good. Jessie's interest in food meant that she kept what we used to call a very good table.

"What will you do today?" I was asked.

"I'll go for a walk, I think. Perhaps I'll ride this afternoon. My horse needs some exercise. But I don't intend to go far. I want to be at hand in case my uncle wakes up and would like to see me."

"That's an excellent idea. He may remember last night ... on the other hand he may not."

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"Well, I'll walk this morning. Just visit a few of the old haunts."

I went to see Jethro. I told him that I had seen my uncle and he was very relieved about that.

"Why, Jethro," I said, "I believe you thought he'd been spirited away."

"Well, not having seen him, mistress . . ."

"He's very ill evidently. This Dr. Cabel seems a very efficient man. I was only allowed to see my uncle briefly. I hope, though, that I shall be able to be with him longer today . . . perhaps I can have a little talk with him. He tried to speak."

"Well, I'm that relieved, Mistress Zipporah, and I hopes I done the right thing in bringing you here."

"You did, Jethro, and I can tell you I have felt a little happier knowing that you were here."

He was very pleased and told me that things were much as usual on the estate. Amos Carew kept a sharp eye on everything—just as he always had—and everything was running smoothly. Lord Eversleigh never had much say in the way things were done.

I said good-bye to Jethro and returned to the Court.

I dined there with Jessie and the doctor. He seemed to have accepted Jessie's position and after the meal he strolled out to the stables with me.

. "Lord Eversleigh will probably want to see you later on. He's still sleeping and I want to keep him like that . . . until he wakes naturally. We'll see. I am so glad you have come, Mistress Ransome. It is a relief to me to have someone of the family here."

He looked at me rather helplessly. "Mistress Stirling," he went on, "well, the position I gather is somewhat irregular .. . but I'm afraid Eversleigh was always like that. He enjoyed life in his own way and it was generally rather an unconventional way. Still . . . this, er . . . Jessie is here. I gather he was quite fond of her. . . . He seems more at peace if she's there about the place. He got used to her, I suppose, and she's a good manager. The great thing is that Carl shouldn't be worried. He needs rest. You know I feel that with the right treatment he could go on for a very long time."

"It is fortunate that you were able to be here."

"Well, he likes it . . . but you know any doctor could have done as much. There's a very good fellow in the town, I've

heard. I can't do more than he would . . . but there is a point that I'm on the premises."

"Well, thank you, Dr. Cabel."

"Which is your horse?"

"The bay mare. We get on well together."

"You ride a good deal, Mistress Ransome?"

"Yes, I always have done."

"Good exercise."

One of my grooms came up. He was preparing to return to Clavering.

"Master won't be content till I'm back and tell him you've arrived safe," he said.

I smiled. "Will you saddle for me, Jim? I'm taking a ride. When will you be leaving?"

"In less than an hour."

"Well, tell them all it won't be long before I'm sending for you to escort me back."

"I'll tell master that. It'll please him."

The doctor looked on benignly and was still there when I mounted and rode out of the stables.

It was almost as though my horse led me there, for in a very short time I could see the towers of Enderby. I rode up to the haunted patch thinking of the day I had stepped over the palings and found Gerard. I wondered if the people whom I had met at Enderby were still there and decided it might be interesting to call. I dismounted and as I did so my heart started to beat fast, for a man was leaning over that part of the palings which was firm and upright and for a moment I thought he was Gerard. Then I saw that he most certainly was not.

He was tall as Gerard had been but much more loosely built and far from elegant. He wore a small wig, hair drawn back from the face and tied at the back with a black ribbon, as worn by almost every man; his coat was wide skirted and came to just above the knees to disclose the ends of knee breeches and legs in dark brown hose and buckled shoes—his white cravat was plain, so was his waistcoat and of the same brown as the material of his coat. He had a pleasant expression, perhaps a little austere. It was an air of seriousness about him which made me think how different he was from Gerard.

"Good day," he called.

I returned the greeting.

"Are you calling at the house?" he asked.

"Yes, I was going to."

"Oh, you are a friend of the Forsters?"

"A neighbor . . . temporarily. I am staying at Eversleigh Court."

"Oh?" he was clearly interested.

"Lord Eversleigh is a sort of uncle," I explained.

"He's very ill at the moment, I believe."

"Yes," I said.

"I too am calling at Enderby," he told me.

I tethered my horse to the palings and we walked together toward the house.

"I hope they will remember me," I said.

"I am sure they will. They have spoken of you."

"To you?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm there often. As a matter of fact I'm Derek Forster's brother."

"Oh ... are you .. . ?"

"The doctor," he said.

I smiled. "I have heard of you."

"Good reports, I hope."

"Nothing to your detriment."

"That is all a doctor can hope for."

"When I came here before, your name was mentioned. You were not here then."

"That must have been a little while ago. I have been here for about two years."

Enderby looked different. A great number of trees had been cut down and there was a new lawn. It made the place brighter, less eerie. It must have been something like this when my mother's aunt Damaris was the mistress of it. It no longer looked the dark, menacing house it once had.

The door opened and the woman I had previously met gave an exclamation of surprise.

"Charles!" she cried. "And . . ."

"I've brought a visitor," he said.

"You won't remember me," I put in hastily. "I'm Zipporah Ransome."

"But of course I remember you. You came before . . . oh, it was a long time ago. You're related to Lord Eversleigh. Come in. Derek will be so pleased. And, Charles, how are you?"

She kissed his cheek lightly while she kept her eyes on me.

We went into the hall. Yes, it was considerably less gloomy.

"Derek!" she called.

Her husband came running down the stairs past the haunted minstrels' gallery and I immediately remembered him. They had both been so friendly.

"You remember each other," she said.

Derek Forster looked at me for a moment and I said: "Zip-porah Ransome." Then his face creased into a smile and he held out his hand.

"What a pleasant surprise! Come in. I am sure you are thirsty."

"Not in the least," I said.

"Oh, you must give Isabel a chance to try her elderberry wine on you," said Derek. "She'll be heartbroken if you don't."

"Will you try it?" she asked. She had such a pleasant, kindly face that I warmed to her immediately, and I remembered how much I had liked her previously when I had called with Sabrina.

"It would be lovely," I said.

"Shall I tell them to bring it?" asked Dr. Forster.

"My dear Charles," cried Derek, "there's no need. It's the order of the day. Visitors are here: Bring out the elderberry. Mind you, it does change sometimes. The brew of the season might be dandelion or even sloe gin."

"He's exaggerating," said Isabel. "What do you think of the house, Mistress Ransome? Do you see any changes?"

"It's lighter . . . it's . . . happier."

She gave me a warm smile. "I know exactly what you mean."

Soon we were sitting in the little room I remembered well, sipping the wine and nibbling the wine cakes which were, I gathered, part of the ritual.

"And how are things at the Court?" asked Derek.

"I only arrived yesterday."

"We are flattered that you called so soon," said Isabel.

"I remembered how welcoming you were last time."

"We like to have visitors. It's not exactly a social neighborhood now, is it, Derek?"

"I agree with that," he said. "It would be so different if there were large families in the three houses . . . Eversleigh,

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Enderby and Grasslands. ... I suppose there were at one time. Not any more, though. How is Lord Eversleigh?"

"I have seen him only briefly. Apparently he had a seizure."

Dr. Forster nodded. "He has a doctor in residence, I hear."

"Yes, Dr. Cabel. He was an old friend. My uncle must have felt ill because he asked him to come and almost immediately afterwards he had this seizure."

"I suppose he is fairly old," said Derek.

"Yes . . . he's old. He was confined to his room when I came some years ago. It's wonderful that he has gone on so long."

"We do occasionally see the housekeeper and I believe they have a very good man managing the estate."

"Yes," I said.

"It must be a comfort to know that he is well looked after." Isabel went on: "The housekeeper's daughter went to Grasslands and married Andrew Mather."

"They're quite a clever family," said Derek.

"Now, Derek," said Isabel.

"Well, they say that the housekeeper at the Court is mistress of the house, maitresse-en-titre as it were, whereas her daughter is mistress de facto."

"Derek!" Isabel was shocked that he should be so frank in my presence. She turned to me: "You must forgive Derek. He just speaks without thinking."

"I understand," I said. "Uncle Carl was very fond of Jessie Stirling and she looks after him. He showed his gratitude. And I expect Evalina did the same for her master."

"He must be all of seventy," said Derek. "What is she? Sweet sixteen?"

"A little more, I imagine. I met her when I was here before."

"Andrew Mather is in good health and spirits," said Dr. Forster. "I can vouch for that."

"Then what are we tittle-tattling about?" demanded Isabel. "Let's talk of pleasant things. Isn't it nice that the king and queen have a son. I think it is so right that the first born of a monarch should be a son. They say the little Prince of Wales is strong and healthy and the apple of his mother's eye."

"Well," said Dr. Forster, "talking of pleasant things, we

have our young king and queen, our little Prince of Wales and last November the Peace of Fontainebleau. We have come rather well out of the affair, I should say."

"Indeed," agreed Derek. "Canada from the French and Florida from Spain."

"Yes, but we have given up our gains in the East Indies."

"But we have kept Senegal and some of the West Indian islands."

"I'm sorry the people don't care so much for Mr. Pitt nowadays," said Isabel. "He used to be so loved. People relied on him, and just because he has accepted a pension . . . Poor man, he has to live. Why shouldn't he have a pension?"

They talked very knowledgeably about what was going on in the world. I gathered they all went to London from time to time, and I felt I had shut myself away too much in the country. I seemed to learn so much just by listening to them—even frivolous items like the cost of the king's coach, which was seven thousand five hundred and sixty-two pounds, four shillings and three pence. Isabel was aghast at the cost and thought the money might have been better spent. I learned that there had been riots at Drury Lane Theatre and Covent Garden because the manager refused to admit people at half price at the end of the third act; and that Lord Bute had resigned and Mr. Fox had become Lord Holland, and that John Wilkes had been committed to the Tower.

I liked the Forsters very much and perhaps what I particularly enjoyed so much was the normal lighthearted company.

"You must come to see us again," said Isabel when I rose to

go-

I said nothing would please me better.

"Are you going too, Charles? I thought you would stay to supper."

"I'll take Mistress Ransome back to the Court and then I'll come back."

"That's kind of you," I said, "but there's no need."

"It's not a need . . . just a pleasure," said the doctor smiling at me.

His horse was in the stables, and he walked it out to where I had tethered mine.

"You will come over again and see us, won't you?" he said.

"You mean at Enderby. Yes, certainly. I did enjoy being

there this afternoon. Your brother and his wife are charming."

"A perfect example of the pleasures of matrimony," he said lightly. I looked at him quickly for I thought I detected a cynical twist of his lips. I wondered about him as I realized I had been doing during the afternoon. Had he a wife? He was not young. He must have been in his early forties ... a few years older than I was.

"Very pleasant to be with," I said.

"Yes, Derek was lucky. Isabel is a delightful person."

"I gathered so. It is amazing what they have done for the house. It was such a gloomy old place. Now it seems quite different."

"It had quite a reputation, I believe. They had great trouble in getting servants at first. It's different now. Isabel soon showed them that Enderby was a very happy place to work in."

"You're very fond of her."

"Who wouldn't be?"

"And you have a house in the town?"

"Yes, with the practice."

"Do you enjoy living here?"

He hesitated. "It's not the best spot for a doctor to flourish. It's too sparsely populated. One's patients are too scattered; but it does have the advantage of being near a hospital in which I am interested—and Derek and Isabel, of course."