It would be Peter, of course. Our meeting had been so romantic. Poor Edward, he would be heartbroken. I was very sorry because I was fond of him and the last thing I wanted was to hurt him. Perhaps he would marry Clare. That would be a satisfactory conclusion for everyone.

Peter had been so enthusiastic from the first and determined to take Enderby. He had travelled back to Eversleigh with us on that first occasion and my mother invited him to stay with us for a day or so.

He had been fulsome in his praise of our home. “A perfect example of Elizabethan architecture,” he had called it; and he had wanted to know as much as he could about the family.

“It is what one misses when one makes one’s home abroad,” he said. “Oh, how I envy you!”

He studied the portraits in the gallery and asked questions about them. He rode round the estate with Amaryllis and me, and he was charmingly courteous to us both.

I was with my mother and Amaryllis when we took him to see Enderby. I wondered what he would think of it for it looked particularly gloomy as it did on winter days.

I studied him closely trying to see what his first impression was as we went into the hall—that gloomy old hall with the minstrels’ gallery and high vaulted roof.

“It has an atmosphere,” he said. “Not as grand as Eversleigh, but nevertheless splendid in its way.”

We went up the stairs, through the bedrooms.

“Rather a large house for one gentleman,” said my mother.

“It’s a family house,” he agreed.

“It’s a house that needs people,” said my mother. “My aunt, the last occupant, had just herself and her maid. Before that it stood empty for so long.”

“You are not afraid of ghosts, I hope,” said Amaryllis.

“I don’t think Mr. Lansdon is afraid of anything,” said my mother warmly.

“There might be something,” he admitted. “But ghosts certainly not.”

“It’s interesting to look at the old house,” said Amaryllis. “I must confess I never liked the place.”

“Are you trying to discourage me?” he asked.

“Oh no … no … It’s for you to say. I often think places have different effects on people. Some feel one thing, others another.”

“Do you really think there is a possibility of your taking this place?”

“It could not be better situated for my purposes.”

He smiled directly at me and Amaryllis.

I said: “You have decided to look round this area for a suitable place to buy then?”

“I think it might be an ideal spot.”

“Of course,” said my mother, “it is not like buying a place. I don’t think you can get the feel of a neighbourhood until you have actually lived in it.”

We went through the rooms.

“So many of them,” he said.

“Yes, and there is an intriguing speaking tube from one of the bedrooms to the kitchen. I must show you that,” I told him.

“It is a most exciting house. I should like to come and look at it again if I may.”

“Whenever you like,” said my mother. “The girls will come with you. Or perhaps you would prefer to be alone. I often do when I am going to make a decision.”

We talked about Enderby constantly during that day.

“You are certainly letting me know the disadvantages,” he said.

“There are not many advantages to tell you about really,” I replied.

“There is one.”

“And that is?”

“That I should have charming neighbours.”

And before that visit was over he had decided to take Enderby for a short period; and I was sure he had done so, not because the house was suitable but because he was falling in love with me and wanted to be near the family.

He had moved in before Christmas. It was very easy because the place was furnished, just as Aunt Sophie had left it before she died. We seemed to spend a lot of time going back and forth to Enderby and he was often with us at Eversleigh. Amaryllis and I helped him decorate the place for Christmas and he insisted that he entertain us on Boxing Day as he came to us for Christmas Day.

My mother said it was rather touching to see Enderby in a festive mood. There had never been anything like that during Aunt Sophie’s ownership, and before that the place had been empty and neglected. We brought in the yule log and hung a Christmas bush on the door; we stuck up holly and mistletoe in every conceivable place and we decorated the house with ivy.

The Barringtons were invited and I think Mrs. Barrington was a little put out because she wanted us all to go to them on the important days and it was she who had to have her Christmas party on Christmas Eve.

When I had danced with Edward at Grasslands he had once more asked me to marry him. I told him I was still undecided. He was rather sad—anxious about Peter Lansdon’s coming into my life. I was sorry for him and should have liked to comfort him because he was going through such a difficult time; but I did not know how to, except by promising to marry him.

On that occasion I had a word or two with Clare Carson. She said: “What an attractive man your friend from London is.”

I agreed with her.

“I wonder how long he will stay at Enderby.”

“He is deciding what he will do now that he is going to settle in England. He has just sold his estates in Jamaica.”

“How fascinating. I expect… you will marry him.”

I flushed hotly. “Why do you say that?”

“I thought it was what he wanted … you too.”

“You know more than I do.”

She laughed and I realized that was something she rarely did. “I should be surprised if it didn’t happen that way,” she said.

I thought: Is it as obvious as that? Or was it a matter of wishful thinking on Clare’s part.

The Pettigrews were spending Christmas at Eversleigh. My father liked Jonathan to come fairly frequently. He would, of course, be the eventual heir and my father was the sort of man to look ahead. He had a certain affection for Jonathan, a grudging admiration which I think meant that he saw in his grandson something of what he had been at his age.

Peter Lansdon was intrigued by the relationships in our family. He said: “It is so complicated that I have to keep reminding myself who is who. It seems odd that Jessica should be your aunt, Amaryllis.”

“Oh yes,” agreed Amaryllis. “It gave her such superiority when we were in the school room and you can be sure she took advantage of it.”

“Jessica would always seize an advantage.”

We were walking home from church at the time. It was Christmas morning and my head was ringing with the Christmas hymns which I loved. I felt so happy that I could have burst into song.

I said: “You make me sound grasping and scheming. Is that your opinion of me?”

He turned to me and took my hand. “I am sorry. I merely meant you are full of energy … full of the desire to enjoy life … which is what it is meant to be.”

“It is true,” Amaryllis confirmed. “Jessica is… how can I put it? … aware. I am far more gullible, more trusting, more stupid I suppose.”

“I will not allow you to say such things.” He had turned his attention to her. “Like Jessica, you are charming …”

“Although so different,” she added.

“You are both … as you should be.”

“You make us sound like paragons,” I said, “which we are not… even Amaryllis.”

“I shall insist on keeping my opinions.”

“You will probably change them when you know us better.”

“I know you very well already.”

“People can never really know each other.”

“You are thinking of the secret places of the heart. Well, perhaps that is what makes people so fascinating. Would you say that?”

“Perhaps.”

“I am still a little at sea about these relatives of yours. Who is the lively young gentleman?”

“You mean Jonathan?”

“Yes, Jonathan. What exactly is his relationship?”

“My father in his first marriage had twin sons—David and Jonathan. Jonathan married Millicent Pettigrew and young Jonathan is their son. David married my mother’s daughter by her first marriage, Claudine. And Amaryllis is the outcome of that marriage.”