If Clare had found the letters would she show them to Edward? Would she expose me for the adulteress I was?

My uneasiness had increased. Each morning when I awoke it was with a fearful dread of what the day would bring.

Christmas was almost upon us. The following day Jake would be here.

The weather had turned cold and I was anxiously watching the sky, fearful that there might be snow which would impede his journey.

I yearned to see him and yet I was fearful of his coming.

I went up to see the room which had been prepared for him. It was on the first floor. I opened the door and looked in. There was the red-curtained four-poster bed; the rich red curtains and the carpet with the touch of flame colour in it. I had changed the furnishings when I had come here. This had been Mrs. Trent’s room. It had been rather sombre then. She had been a strange woman who had had a reputation for being a witch and I had wanted to eliminate all traces of her.

A fire was now burning in the grate. Rooms grew cold in a house like this when they were not used.

I touched the bed. The warming pan was already there. They would renew it when it grew cold.

I thought of his arrival. He would try to lure me into this room, but I must be strong.

I sat down by the window and watched the firelight throwing flickering shadows on the walls.

The door began to open cautiously.

It was Leah.

She jumped when she saw me—as startled to see me as I was her.

“I… just came in to look at the fire,” she said. “They can be dangerous … even with the guard up.”

“Oh yes. Sparks on the carpet.”

“Yes,” said Leah and prepared to go out.

I said: “Just a moment, Leah.” She paused and I went on: “Sit down.”

“This room looks cosy in firelight, doesn’t it?” I said. “It’s really a very pleasant room.”

Leah said that it did look cosy and it was a pleasant room.

Edward had used it before he had gone to the one downstairs and many times had I sat by the red-curtained bed reading to him. I had been content enough then … living in the glory of self sacrifice. But making sacrifices, so ennobling in the initial stages, becomes wearying. A quick sharp sacrifice is all very well, but when it goes on and on one becomes angry—not so much with oneself who has made the decision in the first place, but with the one for whom the sacrifice is being made.

I must never show the faintest irritation which I sometimes felt towards Edward. How perverse people are! They are irritated by the goodness in others. If Edward had been a little tetchy more often, a little less patient, I could have let my anger flare up, I could have released my pent-up feelings. But because he was so good, I must feel this bitter remorse.

“Leah,” I said suddenly, “do you ever think of the old days?”

“Oh yes, Mrs. Barrington.”

“Do you ever wish yourself back with the caravans and the free and easy life of the roads?”

She shook her head. “I’m content here. It was bitterly cold at night. The sun was too hot or the wind blew too cold. I’ve got used to living in a house.”

“And of course Tamarisk is here. You will go to Cornwall with her when … and if… she goes.”

“Is she going, Mrs. Barrington?”

“I suppose she will eventually.”

“She won’t want to leave here. That I know.”

“She will, I daresay, go with her father.”

“She didn’t know she had a father until a little while ago.”

“Well, now she does and her place is with him.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Leah. “Her place is where she is happy.”

“She’s a strange child. You know her well, Leah. It is hard to get close to her.”

“Oh, she’s fond of you … in her way, Mrs. Barrington. And she’s fond of me … in the same way.”

“She has her likes and dislikes. Yet she ran away from us, remember. Can you understand her running away from a comfortable home to live in the open?”

“Sir Jake did it, Mrs. Barrington.”

“So he did and became Romany Jake for a while. Those days seem long ago, Leah.”

“Yet they live clear in the memory. They might have been yesterday.”

I looked at her across the darkening room. There was an expression of terror flitting across her face and I knew that she was living through those moments when that man had seized her and Jake had come to her rescue. That was something she would never forget.

She had lured Jake’s daughter away from us, yet how gentle she looked now as she sat there with her hands in her lap, remembering.

Did she love Jake? Was she aware that he was my lover? Was it Leah who had taken the letters from my drawer?

We were both startled by the opening of the door.

Clare looked in.

“Oh,” she said, “sitting in the dark?”

“I came in to see if the fire was all right. Leah did the same. Then we started to talk.”

Clare looked from one to the other of us. “Shall I light a candle?” she asked. “It looks a little eerie in the firelight.”

She did so and turned to look at us, her eyes gazing steadily into mine.

I could not read her expression, but it seemed to be hiding something.

What is she thinking? I wondered. What does she know?

She was right. It did suddenly seem very eerie in that room.

Jake arrived two days before Christmas and my joy on seeing him was intense. I thought the manner in which we looked at each other must surely betray our feelings. I took him up to the red room myself. As soon as we were there he turned to me and held me fast against him.

“The waiting has been maddening,” he said.

“But now you are here, Jake,” I answered. “Yes … it has seemed very long.”

“I’ve made up my mind,” he went on. “We are not going on like this. Something shall be done.”

He would not release me and as I clung to him I shivered. “Not here, Jake. Not here in this house.”

“Something has to be done … and soon.”

“Yes,” I said. “But wait. Be patient. We’ll talk.” Then I tried to behave like a hostess. “I hope you have everything you want. If you don’t, one of the maids …”

He laughed. It was rather wild, reckless laughter which I had heard so often. “There is only one thing I want,” he said. “You know what that is.”

I replied: “I must go down. People are watchful in this house, I believe.”

“Watchful?”

“Leah … because I believe she is in love with you and Clare because she is in love with my husband.” I drew myself away. “We shall be dining at seven. Could you be down just before.”

And I was gone.

It was a pleasant evening. I was amazed how Jake could behave with such detached calm towards Edward. No one would have guessed that he was indulging in a love affair with Edward’s wife.

As her father’s presence made it a special occasion, Tamarisk dined with us. I was delighted when she asked him questions not only about London but about Cornwall too.

He discussed the differences between farming in England and Australia and talked so entertainingly that Tamarisk said: “I should like to go to Australia.” And he replied: “Perhaps I will take you one day.”

Much later when I went to say goodnight to Edward I sat down and we talked for a while.

He said: “I think that man is beginning to charm Tamarisk a little.”

“I thought so too.”

“I daresay the day will come when she will go to him.”

“We shall have to wait and see. I have a feeling that she will always prefer to be where Jonathan is.”

“She’s a faithful creature. I like that in her.”

I said a hasty goodnight. Talk of faithfulness was a little disturbing to such a guilty conscience as mine.

The next day with Tamarisk and Jake I rode over to Eversleigh to help my mother with the arrangements for Christmas.

The house was in turmoil. The gardeners were bringing in plants from the greenhouses and festooning holly and ivy round the pictures in the gallery and on the walls of the great hall: mistletoe was placed in such places as would allow people to stand beneath them and give and receive the traditional kisses. From the kitchen quarters came the smell of baking.