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Authors: Victoria Holt

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BOOK: Daughter of Deceit
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“Yes. I know his name.”

“Well, he made a personal visit to Mrs. Carling’s garden, and I fancy was rather impressed with Fiona. She was about sixteen at the time, and he offered her a job in one of his concerns. Old Mrs. Carling didn’t want her to go, but Fiona’s heart was set on it. And of course, it was a wonderful opportunity. Fiona was hooked … and she was a good worker. So when all this happened, she was sent here to look after the bits and pieces which were coming to light in fairly large quantities once they started digging around. Old Mrs. Carling was pleased because it brought her granddaughter back, and Fiona was content. She’s a kind girl and hated to disappoint her grandmother. So … Fiona could do the work she wanted to and at the same time feel no remorse. And the workshop is only a stone’s throw from Mrs. Carling’s house.”

“I look forward to meeting her.”

“I am just going to show you our greatest find, and then we’ll look in on Fiona. There, look. This is the remains of the villa. Mind how you go. The ground is uneven. You’d better take my arm.”

I did so and he pressed my hand against him.

“You need to watch your step. This is part of the villa. This mosaic paving is some of the best-preserved in Roman Britain. Now I must show you what I consider the most important of all. It reveals how civilized the Romans were. Be careful here. Fiona was wondering if we should fence some of this off.”

“Do many people come here to look at it?”

“Now and then. Particularly when there is some new discovery and it’s mentioned in the press. What I want to show you is the
bath. At a time when cleanliness was not the major preoccupation of most of the world’s population, the Romans were very particular about it. This bath has been revealed in almost perfect condition. There are three pools. The tepidarium, the warm, the calidarium, the hot, and the frigidarium, the cold, which I believe they plunged into at the end. A very spartan people these. Look, you can see how deep they were. Don’t go too close. It would not be very pleasant to fall in. Sir Harry was very excited about it. Every now and then some party comes down, intent on further exploration. I can tell you, it has altered things at Leverson. It has given us some notoriety in the archaeological world. So excuse me if my enthusiasm runs away with me.”

“It’s quite fascinating and I love to hear about it.”

“You will hear lots about it, I can assure you. Oh, look! There is Fiona. She’s heard our approach, I think.”

A girl had emerged from the cottage. She was wearing a green smock which was very becoming to her flaxen hair. I noticed that her eyes were green, accentuated by the colour of the smock. Her face creased up with pleasure at the sight of Roderick. Then she was looking at me with a curiosity which she tried in vain to suppress.

“Oh, Fiona,” said Roderick. “I was just talking about you.”

“Oh, dear,” she said, in mock dismay.

“Extolling your virtues, of course. This is Miss Noelle Tremaston, who is staying with us.”

“Good afternoon,” she said. “I heard you were here. News travels fast in this place.”

Roderick laughed. “Miss Tremaston … Noelle … already knows who you are: Miss Fiona Vance, our archaeological expert.”

“He flatters me,” said Fiona. “I’m an amateur.”

“Oh, come. That’s overmodest. You should see the work she has done on some of our finds. We’re getting a good idea of the kind of ornaments and pots which were used on this site … all thanks to Fiona’s careful work. Are you going to ask us in, Fiona?”

“I was hoping you would suggest it.”

“Let’s go, then,” said Roderick. “Miss Tremaston wants to see some of the marvels you’ve produced.”

She smiled at me. “I’ve only fitted together what was already there,” she said. “I was just going to make a cup of coffee. Would you care for some?”

“We’d enjoy that,” Roderick answered for us, and I immediately agreed.

It was indeed a cottage which had clearly been converted into a workshop. There were two rooms made into one. Benches had been set up and these were crowded with oddments and various tools, some of which I did not at that moment recognize as such but which afterwards Fiona explained to me were bellows to blow away loose earth, coarse metal sieves, ladles, steel rods for inserting into the ground which were called probes, as well as brushes of different sizes. There were containers of all sorts, glues and bottles of several kinds of solution; and in the centre of the room was a stove on which stood a pan of hot water.

Leading from this room was a small alcove, part of a kitchen. In this was a deep sink and a tap. There was an old stove there and a cupboard, from which Fiona took cups and a coffeepot.

There were four small chairs with wicker backs and on these she asked us to be seated while she went into the alcove and made the coffee.

Roderick told me that the cottage had not had to be changed very much. The stairs near the old kitchen led to two rooms upstairs, the bedrooms, and they were left just as they had been.

“That is where Fiona has a rest when she is tired.”

“That is not true!” retaliated Fiona from the alcove. “I’m never tired during the day. I bring a sandwich with me most days and make coffee. Sometimes I take them upstairs just to get away from all the muddle and the smell of some of the products I have to use.”

She brought in the coffee in cups on a tray.

“Are you staying long at Leverson?” she asked me.

I hesitated and Roderick said: “We are trying to persuade her to.”

“And you come from London, I believe?”

“I
do.”

“I
daresay you’ll find it a little dull here.”

“Shame on you, Fiona!” cried Roderick. “With all this on your doorstep! I’ve just been showing her the baths.”

Her eyes shone. “Aren’t they wonderful?”

“I have never seen anything like them before,” I told her.

“Few people have … in such condition. Isn’t that so, Roderick?”

“See how proud we are. Fiona, you are worse than I am.”

They exchanged glances, and I wondered about the relationship between them. He was obviously fond of her and she … well, perhaps it was too soon to say, but I fancied she was of him.

She went on to talk about the vase she was piecing together.

“It’s an unusual one,” she was saying. “There is too much missing as yet. It’s disappointing.”

“There is quite a unique pattern on it.”

“Yes. That’s what is so maddening.” She shrugged her shoulders and smiled at me. “Well, that’s all part of the job,” she went on. “There is often something which could be made perfect … but the essential parts are missing.”

“The coffee is delicious,” I said.

“Thank you. I hope you will look in whenever you are this way.”

“Shouldn’t I be disturbing your work?”

“No, not at all.”

“Fiona loves to talk about it, don’t you, Fiona?”

“I suppose so. By the way, I’ve made a sketch of that drinking vessel … how I think it should look if completed. Of course, we’ve only a fragment so far. It’s at home. Come and have a look at it when you’re passing.”

“I will,” said Roderick.

It struck me that, as I wondered about her, she might have similar thoughts about me. She might be asking herself how friendly / was with Roderick. She was watching me intently. I could not say in a hostile manner. She had been charmingly welcoming and friendly towards me.

It occurred to me that she must be in love with him.

As we walked back to the manor, talking about what we had seen that morning, I was preoccupied, thinking about my own feelings for Roderick.

Unsettled as my position was, I was being drawn more and more into life at Leverson Manor. My feelings were not only mixed; they went from one extreme to another. I was becoming more and more interested in the house. Sometimes it seemed to welcome me, at others to reject me.

On one occasion I was lost. In those first days it was easy to lose one’s way. There were so many doors: one could easily miss the one for which one looked and find oneself in a hitherto unexplored part of the house.

It was during my first week that this happened to me. I had come from my room and turned into a corridor which I had thought would take me to the staircase. When I realized my mistake, I tried to retrace my steps. I felt sure I was going in the right direction and would in due course come to the hall.

However, I found myself in a part of the house which I had never seen before. I came into a room with several windows and portraits along the wall facing them. The light was strong, for it was early morning and I had been on my way down to breakfast. The room faced east. There was a deep silence. I often felt this in the house when I found myself alone. It was rather disconcerting. There was a table in a corner and beside it a piece of unfinished tapestry on a frame; in another corner of the room was a spinning wheel.

I looked about me. I guessed this was one of the older parts of the house. I tried to fight off that familiar feeling which came to me now and then that I was being watched. It was most uncanny.

I should have tried to retrace my steps immediately, but
there was something about the place which made me pause.

I glanced at the pictures on the wall. There were about six of them in ornate frames, and the subjects wore clothes of several early periods. I studied them—Leversons and Claverhams, I guessed. The eyes of some seemed to look straight at me and they
made me feel uneasy. As I stared, their expressions seemed to change and to regard me with derision, distrust and dislike.

I was growing very fanciful since I had come here. It was because, in spite of the welcome I had had from Charlie and Roderick, in my heart I knew I should not be here. I wondered what my mother would have been like if she had married Charlie and come to live here. The house would have been different then. She would have dispersed that aura of formality. She would have snapped her fingers at the past.

I moved towards the unfinished tapestry in the frame. I recognized it at once. It was the house itself, in all its splendour. I recognized the coat of arms worked in blues, reds and gold.

There was a rustle behind me. I started guiltily. Lady Constance had come silently into the room and was watching me.

“You are interested in my work, Miss Tremaston?”

“Oh yes … it is quite splendid.”

“You know something of tapestry work?”

“I have never done any.”

“This is the house, you see. The house is very important to me.”

“I know. It is such a magnificent place.”

She had approached me and was standing close to me, watching me intently.

“Ever since I came here I have done my best to maintain the standards laid down by our ancestors.”

“I am sure you have.”

“I am determined that nothing shall disturb that.”

“Yes,” I said. “It would be a pity if anything were to.”

“Were you … er … looking for something?”

“Oh no … no. I lost my way.”

“It is so easy to lose one’s way when one is not accustomed …” Her voice trailed off.

I felt myself shiver slightly. I had a great urge to turn and run away … right out of this house.

I said feebly: “I was going down to breakfast.”

“Oh yes. You go back the way you came. At the end of the
corridor you will find the staircase. It leads down to the hall. The
breakfast room is on the right.”

“I realize now the way I should have gone. Thank you.”

I was relieved to escape. She was telling me to go, that I did
not belong here. It was in every gesture, every inflection of her
voice. I must go … soon.

But later that day, when I was having my riding lesson in the
paddock, Roderick made me feel how glad he was that I was here,
and I wanted to stay.

The uncertainty was soon back with me. I could go to London. Robert had impressed on me that I must use the house whenever I wanted to. He was particularly anxious that I should regard it as my home. It was what my mother would have wanted; and, as with Charlie, now that she was gone, he could only be comforted when he was doing what she would have wanted.

This must necessarily be a waiting period. In the meantime I must try to resign myself with serenity for whatever fate was in store for me. I was less unhappy than I had thought possible during the riding lessons with Roderick and sharing with him the enthusiasm for the Roman remains, in which my interest was growing apace. I was becoming friendly with Fiona and sometimes, when Roderick was busy, I went alone to the cottage. Fiona showed me how to clean pottery with a soft brush in order to loosen the dirt. I would picture as I did so the people who had used such utensils in their ordinary daily lives. I discovered the fascination of delving into and seeking to re-create the past. It was a wonderful way in which to escape from the present.

I tried to forget Lady Constance, and indeed did not see a great deal of her. She would appear at dinner, but other meals she often took in her room. I always sat next to Charlie on those occasions and he would talk to me, protecting me, as it were, against the faintly disguised shafts which came from Lady Constance. Not that she took a great deal of notice of me. Her strategy was to treat me coolly, as a guest whom she hoped would not stay long. No one
else seemed to be aware of that, but for me the implication was there.

BOOK: Daughter of Deceit
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