Legend of the Seventh Virgin (24 page)

I was silent. I believed Justin had told her the truth. They were two of a kind, she and Justin. How admirably suited they were. I thought, if she had married Justin, I should have come here in a very different capacity. Oh why hadn’t Mellyora married Justin!

I pictured them — one on either side of that dying man who had played such a part in their lives — their whispered confidences, their longings.

“Mellyora,” I said, “what are you going to
do?
”

She opened her eyes incredulously. “Do? What can we do? He is married to Judith, is he not?”

I did not speak. I knew that for a while it was enough for her to know he loved her; but how long would she — or he — be content with that?

The blinds were up at all the windows. I felt that everywhere there was a subtle change. Nothing could be quite the same again. Old Lady St. Larnston had talked halfheartedly of going to the Dower House, but when Justin had urged her to remain at the Abbas she had been delighted to do so.

A new Sir Justin. A new Lady St. Larnston. But those were merely names. I saw Justin’s eyes follow Mellyora, and I knew that confession of theirs had changed their relationship, however much they believed it had not. How long, I wondered, did they think they could keep their secret from such as Mrs. Rolt, Haggety and Mrs. Salt.

There would soon be more gossip in the kitchens. Perhaps it had already started. And how long before Judith was aware — she, who watched her husband every second he was in her company! Already she suspected that his feelings towards Mellyora were dangerously strong.

This atmosphere was filled with danger … tense and quiet, waiting for disaster.

But it was my own affairs which were absorbing me, because Johnny’s passion for me was increasing, and the more aloof I became, the more determined he was. He never attempted to come to my bedroom again but whenever I went out I would find him walking by my side. Sometimes he cajoled, sometimes he blazed; but his conversation was all on one theme.

Again and again I told him that he was wasting his time; he retorted that I was wasting our time.

“If you are waiting for marriage, you will wait a long time,” he said angrily.

“You happen to be right. I am waiting for marriage, but not with you. David Killigrew wants to marry me as soon as he gets a living.”

“David Killigrew! So you plan to be a parson’s wife! What a joke.”

“Your feeling for humor is rather childish, of course. There is nothing funny in this, I assure you. It is a very serious matter.”

“Poor Killigrew!” he snorted and left me.

But he was uneasy. I knew then that to possess me had become an obsession with him.

Whenever possible I went to see Granny. There was nothing I enjoyed more than stretching out on the talfat and talking to her as I used to when I was a child. I knew that my affairs were as important to her as they were to me and she was the only person in the world with whom I could be absolutely frank.

We discussed the possibility of a marriage with David Killigrew. Granny shook her head over it. “It would be good, lovey, for some, but I reckon you’d always be a-hankering.”

“You’re not going to say that Johnny St. Larnston’s the man for me?”

“If you married him you’d be marrying a dream, Kerensa.”

“And that would not be good?”

“’Tis only you can make it good or bad, lovey.”

“In that case I could make a marriage with David good or bad?”

She nodded.

Then I went on to tell her about my last encounter with Johnny and from that to talk of life at the Abbas. I never stopped talking of the Abbas. I liked to make her see it as I did — the odd winding staircases and stone cells where the nuns had lived; it was the old part of the Abbas which interested me most; but I loved it all; and when I thought of marriage with David Killigrew I thought of leaving the Abbas and that felt like parting with a lover.

“You’re in love with a house,” said Granny. “Well, ’tis safer perhaps to love a house than a man. If it be yours, then ’tis yours and you need have no fear of its betraying you.”

Judith had gone to bed early on account of a headache and had dismissed me for the night. It was nine o’clock and because I had a yearning to see Granny I slipped out of the house and went down to the cottage.

She was sitting smoking her pipe and, as always, was glad to see me. We sat and talked; I told her that Johnny’s attitude seemed to be changing and that I could not understand him. He had been a little cool lately and there were times when I thought he was abandoning the chase; yet at others he seemed more determined than ever.

Granny lighted two candles, for the twilight was on us and my conversation, as usual, had turned to the house itself, when I was suddenly startled by a movement at the window. I was just in time to see a dark shape move quickly away. Someone had been looking in at us!

“Granny,” I cried. “Someone’s outside.”

Granny rose rather slowly, for she was no longer nimble, and went to the door.

She turned to me and shook her head. “There’s no one there.”

“But someone was looking in at us.” I followed her to the door and peered into the dimness. “Who’s there?” I called.

There was no answer.

“Who could it have been?” I asked. “Who could have stood out there peering in at us? And I wonder for how long?”

“It were likely someone as wanted to see me if I were alone,” was Granny’s comfortable explanation. “They’ll come back … that’s if they want to see me bad enough.”

The uneasy feeling of having been spied on stayed with me; I could not settle down to talk and as it was growing late I realized it was time I went back to the Abbas.

I said good night to Granny and left her. But I kept wondering who it was who had looked through the window and decided not to come in.

I had no opportunity of seeing Granny again until I had made my decision. In a way, I told myself, that was a good thing because it had to be my decision. I had to take it with my eyes wide open; I had to bear the entire responsibility myself.

Judith had been tiresome. I was discovering facets of her character which I had not known before. She had a violent temper which when it was manifested was the more fierce for having been kept in check. I guessed that the future in this house was going to be very stormy. Judith would not tolerate Mellyora’s presence in the house much longer.

And when Mellyora went … what of me?

However, that was not the concern of the immediate future. Judith had one of her headaches; I must brush her hair; I must massage her forehead. Sometimes I hated the smell of the eau de Cologne she used. It would always remind me of my servitude to this woman.

“How clumsy you are, Carlee.” It was a sign of her irritation that she should use my surname. She was deliberately trying to hurt me because she was hurt. “You are pulling my hair. You are useless, useless. Sometimes I wonder why I employ you. When I come to think of it, I did not engage you. You were found for me. What am I in this house … ?”

I tried to soothe her. “My lady, you are not feeling well. Perhaps you should rest.”

I hated calling her my lady. If Mellyora had been my lady I should have boasted of my friendship with Lady St. Larnston but she would be Mellyora, not my lady, to me.

Mellyora, however, could never be Lady St. Larnston while this woman was alive.

“Don’t stand there like a fool. Braid my hair. And don’t pull. I warned you before.”

She took the brush from me and, as she did, the bristles tore the skin of one of my fingers, making it bleed. I looked at it in dismay while she flung the brush across the room.

“Oh, you
have
been treated brutally!” she mocked. “And serve you right.” Her eyes were wild. I thought: Shall we in a few years’ time have Lady St. Larnston going out on the moor to dance when the moon is full?

They were doomed, these Derrises — doomed to madness by a monster. And Judith was one of the doomed.

A bitter anger was in me that night. I hated those who humiliated me, and Judith was humiliating me. I had better take care, she told me. She would get rid of me. She would choose her own maid. She was Lady St. Larnston now and there was no reason why she should be dictated to by anyone.

I suggested she have one of the soothing powders which Dr. Hilliard had prescribed for her and to my surprise she agreed. I gave it to her and the effect — in about ten minutes — was apparent. The storm was passing; docilely she allowed me to get her to bed.

I went back to my room and although it was late I dressed my hair in the Spanish fashion, putting in my comb and mantilla. This always soothed me and had become a habit with me. With my hair thus I would remember the ball and dancing with Kim and how he had told me I was fascinating. At the back of my mind was a dream that Kim came back and was fond of me. By some miracle he was the owner of the Abbas and we married and lived there happy ever after.

As I sat at the window looking out on the moonlight, I felt a desire to go out to the stones but I was tired. I took a book in order to soothe myself by reading, and propped myself up on my bed, fully dressed, because I wanted to leave the comb in my hair; reading never failed to comfort me, it reminded me how far I had come, and that I had achieved what most people would have said was impossible.

I read on and on and it was past midnight when I heard the sound of footsteps creeping to my room.

I sprang off the bed and blew out my candles. I was standing behind the door when Johnny opened it and came in.

This was a different Johnny. I did not know what had changed him, I only knew that I had never seen him like this before. He was quiet, serious; and there was a strange determination about him.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

He lifted a finger, warning me to keep quiet.

“Get out or I shall shout,” I told him.

“I want to talk to you. I’ve got to talk to you.”

“I have no desire to talk.”

“You’ve got to listen. You’ve got to stand by me.”

“I don’t understand you.”

He stood close to me and all the truculence had gone from him; he was like a child, pleading with me; and this was strange with Johnny.

“I’ll marry you,” he said.

“What!”

“I said I’d marry you.”

“What game are you playing?”

He took me by the shoulders and shook me. “You know,” he said. “You know. It’s the price I’m ready to pay. I tell you I’ll marry you.”

“And your family?”

“They’ll raise hell. But I say: To hell with the family. I’ll marry you. I promise.”

“I’m not sure that I will marry you.”

“Of course you will. It was what you were waiting for. Kerensa, I’m serious … never more deadly serious in my life. I don’t want to marry. There’ll be trouble. But I tell you I’ll marry you.”

“It’s not possible.”

“I’m going to Plymouth.”

“When?”

“Tonight … No … it’s already morning. Today, then, I’m catching the first train. I’m leaving at five. Are you coming with me?”

“Why this sudden decision?”

“You know. Why pretend?”

“I think you’re mad.”

“I’ve always wanted you. And this is the way. Are you coming with me?”