Daughter of Deceit (14 page)

The windows, two of which were of stained glass, were emblazoned with the family arms and denoted its participation in famous battles. The light from these windows, faintly tinted as it was, gave an uncanny ambience to the place.

Again I told myself I should not have come. I had a ridiculous but certain feeling that the house was telling me that. I did not belong here in this place with all its traditions. I wanted to run out, go straight to the station and back to London as fast as I could.

Then a door opened at the top of a short staircase, which led up from the right side of the dais.

“Noelle. It is good to see you.” And there was Roderick hurrying towards me.

He took my hands. “I was so delighted when I heard you were here.”

Charlie looked on benignly and I felt some of my fears slipping away.

“You two seem to know each other,” he said.

“We met once or twice in the street,” I told him.

“I was desperately sorry to hear about your mother,” said Roderick.

“It was necessary for Noelle to get away,” said Charlie.

“You’re going to find some interesting things here,” said Roderick.

“I think the house is most … unusual. I have never seen a house like it before.”

“Oh, there isn’t one, is there?” replied Roderick with a laugh, looking at his father. “At least, that is what we like to think.”

“We’re proud of it,” said Charlie. “Though I’m afraid we take it for granted, having spent all our lives here. We like to see how it affects people. We have never really lost that, have we, Roderick?”

“Certainly not. The house is a bit of a hybrid, really. That’s what happens to these old places. They need bolstering up over the years and you see the ideas in vogue during one century intruding on another.”

“Surely that makes it all the more interesting?”

The gloom was dispelling and I felt a great lifting of my spirits. I had been right to come, after all. Roderick was here … and Charlie. They would help me … protect me if need be.

Then Charlie said to Roderick: “Where is your mother?”

“She is in the drawing room.”

My sudden burst of relief evaporated. I guessed that Lady Constance had only accepted my coming here because she had been obliged to.

“We’d better go up, then,” said Charlie; and we mounted the short staircase to the door through which Roderick had come into the hall.

We passed through several rooms, under arches and up and down little staircases, past walls hung with magnificent tapestries and portraits. I scarcely noticed them. And after a long time, it seemed, we came to the drawing room.

Charlie opened the door and we went in. Vaguely I was aware of a room with heavy drapes at the windows, a highly polished wooden floor covered in rugs, tapestries and linenfold panelling.

And there, seated on a thronelike chair, was the woman I had often visualized and never thought to meet: Lady Constance.

We advanced towards her, and Charlie said: “Constance, this is Miss Noelle Tremaston. Noelle, my wife.”

She did not rise. She lifted a lorgnette and surveyed me, which I felt was a gesture meant to remind me of my insignificance. Although I resented this, I stood there quite meekly. There was something about her which demanded homage.

“Good day, Miss Tremaston,” she said. “Your room has been made ready for you, and one of the maids can take you to it. You will need to recover from your journey, I am sure.”

“Good day, Lady Constance,” I replied. “Thank you. It was not really a very long journey.”

She waved her lorgnette and pointed in the direction of a chair, indicating that I might sit.

“I gather you have come from London,” she said.

“Yes, that is so.”

“I don’t care for the place. Too much noise … too many people, and some of them can be most unpleasant.”

Roderick said: “A good many people find London fascinating, Mother, and there are unpleasant people everywhere.”

“That may be so,” she retorted, “but everything in London is on a bigger scale, and that means there are more of them.” She turned to me. “I gather your mother was involved with the theatre.” There was a certain distaste in her voice. “You will find it very different here. We live quietly in the country.”

“I find the house very interesting,” I said.

“That is good of you, Miss … er …”

“She is Noelle to us,” said Charlie with a hint of firmness in his voice.

“And there have been some wonderful discoveries on your land,” I said.

“Noelle wants to see the Roman remains,” added Roderick.

“H’m,” murmured Lady Constance. “But now she will want to see her room. Ring the bell, Roderick, please.”

Roderick obeyed and very soon a maid appeared.

“Take Miss … er … Tremaston to her room, Gertie,” said Lady Constance. “And make sure that she has everything.”

“Yes, your ladyship,” said Gertie.

Roderick was smiling at me reassuringly, Charlie a little apprehensively, as I followed Gertie out of the room.

We went up and down more stairs and through more rooms.

“This is the Red Room, miss,” said Gertie when we reached our destination. “It’s to be yours. See, it’s all in red. Red curtains, red carpets and red on the bed.” She giggled at the rhyme, which I imagined had been said many times to the occupants of the room.

“There’s the Blue Room, the White Room … but they’re not used very much. You’ll get lost in this house at first. Rambling old place, it is. But you get used to it. They’ve brought your bags up so you can unpack. Want any help? … No? Well, all you have to do is ring if you do. There’s hot water and towels here and in about half an hour I’ll come and take you down. Her ladyship don’t like anyone being late.”

When she had gone I sat down on the bed. It was a four-poster, probably at least a hundred years old. I touched the red curtains and felt my uneasiness growing.

Lady Constance was hostile. Naturally she would be, so that should not surprise me. I thought of the streets of London; the carriages taking people to and from the theatre; of my mother, laughing, carefree, full of gaiety. No wonder Charlie had turned to her. She was everything that Lady Constance was not. I longed for her more than ever. I felt lost in an alien world. Such a short time ago everything had been happily predictable—and now there was complete change.

I wanted to weep helplessly. I wanted to go back to Desiree’s comforting security; and instead of Desiree’s warm loving-kindness, I was confronted by the frigid dislike of Lady Constance.

But Roderick was here, I reminded myself. He and Charlie wanted me to be happy. I was not alone.

I washed and changed. I was ready to face Lady Constance.

During the first days at Leverson Manor, there were occasions when I told myself I should have to get away. It was only the insistence of Charlie and Roderick that I should stay which made me feel that I could not leave at once.

It had soon become clear to me that Lady Constance tolerated my presence only because it was impossible for her to do otherwise.

I saw here a new man in Charlie. I had thought him mild and easygoing, but at Leverson Manor he was master of the household and somehow, formidable as Lady Constance was, he had made her understand this. I also realized more fully how deeply he had loved my mother. I knew that he was lost and lonely without her—a feeling so intense, which we both shared. Silently, he was begging me not to go. It had been
her
wish that we should be together if an occasion like this arose. It had, and he was going to look after me, and it gave him a modicum of comfort that he could do this.

Then there was Roderick. I cannot deny that I drew comfort from him. Like his father, he was determined that I should stay and, bruised and lonely as I was, I was in a measure grateful. I was living in a strange, unreal world between those happy carefree days which I had believed would go on forever and the dreary wilderness of life without Desiree which I must face sooner or later.

In time, I reminded myself, I should consider my situation. Perhaps it would be good for me to do some work. It might indeed be necessary that I did. In the meantime I had to get through the days: I had to learn to suppress my sorrow: and Charlie and Roderick were helping me to do that.

Sometimes I felt that she was watching over me tenderly, urging me to stay with Charlie. She trusted him. Her greatest concern had always been for me. To be without her was utter desolation.

“Try to take an interest, love,” I could almost hear her saying. “Perhaps we’ll be together someday. I never thought much about these things, but there are times when you have to face them, and if you can get a bit of comfort from believing it, that’s not a bad
way. Be patient. You’ve got to go on living. I trust Charlie. He’s the one I want to look after you.”

Roderick suggested that I should learn to ride.

“It’s necessary here in the country,” he said.

The riding lessons were a success. Roderick was a good and patient teacher and I began to find the exercise exhilarating. I improved so rapidly that for several hours at a stretch I could forget my mother.

“In a week or so you’ll be a good horsewoman, Noelle,” Roderick told me. “Then we can go farther afield. There is a good deal for you to see.”

He was so delighted that I had to show my pleasure for his sake; but I must say that I did feel uplifted by my aptitude on a horse, and it was certainly good to be able to put aside the black desolation, if only for a few hours.

One of the first things Roderick wanted to do was show me the Roman ruins.

The countryside was very flat around Leverson. From my bedroom window I could see the land stretching out almost to the sea. Roderick had explained to me that at the time of the Roman invasion the sea must have come within a quarter of a mile of the house. Now there was a mile and a half between it and the sea.

When he took me to inspect the finds, he glowed with enthusiasm.

“I always wanted to show you this,” he said. “Remember?”

I did remember, and the memory saddened me. We had mentioned the secrecy of our meetings, and we had wished that this need not be. Our wish had been granted, but at what a cost!

Roderick saw at once that he had saddened me and was immediately remorseful.

I said: “It’s all right. Yes, I did want to see them. You made them sound so interesting.”

“It is one of the most exciting discoveries in the country. It was a sort of fuelling station, but a very important person must have been in charge of operations, and had to have his villa nearby. You see the mosaic pavings … lovely reds and whites … chalk for the white, sandstone for the red. It’s all so ingenious … and
modern in a way. It was a tragedy the Roman Empire disintegrated. If it had not, we might not have slipped into the Dark Ages.” He laughed. “Oh, forgive me. I go on and on about all this. It grips you, you know.”

“I am sure it does … and I like to hear it. Is that a cottage over there?”

“Not exactly. It’s Fiona’s domain … her workshop.”

“Fiona?”

“Fiona Vance. You’ll meet her. She’s probably there now … working away. I’ll explain. You asked if it was a cottage. In a way it is. It certainly was once. Then it was derelict, and no one thought much about it. It was isolated … falling apart. We did consider clearing it away altogether … and then there was this discovery and the cottage was right in the centre of it. When excavations started, and they were finding all sorts of pottery … weapons … and things like that, work had to be done on them. That is when Fiona came.”

“What does she do exactly?”

“Work continuously. She’s dedicated. You see, most of the artifacts are found in fragments. They have to be fitted together … like a jigsaw puzzle. Only experts can do it. Pieces of wood … metal … pottery … they all have to be treated in different ways. Without expert knowledge much could be lost.”

“And Fiona has this special knowledge?”

“Yes. It’s interesting how it came about. She lives with Mrs. Carling, her grandmother … a peculiar old lady. She’s really rather odd … some superstitious people would say she is a witch. They don’t like to offend her … afraid she’ll fix the Evil Eye on them. You know the sort of thing. She’s devoted to Fiona. She’s looked after her since she was a baby … that was when Fiona’s parents died. Their carriage overturned and they were killed together when Fiona was about a year old. She’s quite different from the old lady. However, you’ll see for yourself.”

“She sounds very interesting … so does the grandmother.”

“You’ll find lots to interest you here, Noelle.”

“You and your father are so good to me.”

I heard my voice tremble and he said quickly: “We’re going to
show you all this place has to offer. We want you to be happy here. I know how difficult it is just now, but it will get better.”

“Tell me more about Fiona.”

“Well, it all started when she found some coins in her garden. There was quite a fuss about it. It was an indication of what might be here … right on our doorstep. Sir Harry Harcourt … have you heard of him? He’s one of our leading archaeologists … he’s been out to Egypt recently and made the most fantastic discoveries. You must have heard of him.”