The adulteress

During the next days members of Andrew's family began to arrive at Grasslands. I saw one of them—a man who looked to be in his forties. I thought he looked rather grim and disagreeable. Isabel, who had called on Evalina to offer her condolences and to ask if there was anything she could do, told me that the man was a nephew of Andrew's and that she did not seem to be very pleased that he had come.

The funeral took place about a week after Andrew's death. I attended the service in the church with Jean-Louis, and Evalina spoke to me as we came out of the church asking me to come back to the house with the mourners. She looked fragile in deep black with a flowing veil hiding her face.

"Please come," she said. It was almost like a command; but perhaps that was my imagination as I had begun to feel that she thought she had a right to make demands on me.

This seemed a small thing to ask and I went back.

It was very somber in the hall where refreshments were served. The nephew seemed to be taking charge of the proceedings, which I suppose was natural, as he would be the nearest relative apart from Evalina and the baby.

I was glad when we left. I supposed the reading of the will would take place and that was no concern of ours.

Jean-Louis and I walked back to Eversleigh very slowly. I always slackened my pace when walking with my husband because I knew that he found it painful to walk quickly and that he would not admit this, so I pretended that his pace was mine.

"Poor child," he said. "She seems so young."

"Everyone is sorry for Evalina," I said, a little impatiently. "I am sure as her mother's daughter she will know how to take care of herself."

"She did no wrong as far as we know," said Jean-Louis. "Poor child, it was not her fault she had such a mother."

"She must have known that her mother was stealing things from Eversleigh. She was hiding them for her at Grasslands."

"That's understandable. Her mother told her they were gifts."

I was silent. The men found excuses for her. First Charles Forster and now Jean-Louis.

"Well," I said, "I don't think we need worry too much about her for I am sure she will be able to take care of herself."

She was perhaps not so self-sufficient as I had thought, for the next day she sent one of her servants to Eversleigh with a message for me. She wanted me to meet her ... "You know the old haunted patch," she wrote, "where they buried Lord Eversleigh. It's quiet there. No one ever goes there. It's near Enderby but sheltered from it. Meet me there at two o'clock this afternoon."

It was a little peremptory, I thought, and for a moment felt inclined to ignore it; but on second thought I changed my mind.

Secretly I had to admit that I was both unsure and afraid of her.

She was waiting for me, looking distraught, walking up and down impatiently.

She said: "It's quiet here. Nobody comes here. They never did, and since Lordy was buried here it's even more spooky."

"You had something to say to me?"

She nodded and I saw the look of fear in her face.

She said: "It's him. It's John Mather ... the nephew. Andrew would never want it. He'd turn in his grave. Andrew was all for me ... he was ... and the boy."

"What about the nephew?"

"Andrew's left everything ... just everything to me ... in trust for Richard. Richard's to have all this and I'm to share it with him ... Grasslands ... and Andrew's money .. . everything. But the nephew is going to contest the will."

"He can't do that, can he?"

"He says he can. He says Andrew was duped ... by me. He says I forced him to marry me. He says Andrew was incapable of having children ... and Richard can't be his."

"I think he's just trying to frighten you."

"He says it would be better for me to give up Grasslands to him ... and take a small income which he would be prepared to give me to save a lot of unpleasantness."

There was a short silence while she looked at me appealingly.

"What ... what do you expect me to do?" I asked.

"I want you to tell me what to do ... how I can stop him?"

"How should I know? You are Andrew's widow. You have his child. It seems to me his nephew is talking nonsense."

She looked at me steadily. "But if he can prove ..."

"What do you mean?"

"Suppose Richard ... " She looked at me steadily. "You know how these things can happen ... even to people who seem to be so respectable. You've got to help me. You've got to tell me what to do."

"Are you telling me that Richard is not Andrew's son?"

She was silent. I had a sudden inspiration and the words came out before I had time to consider them: "Richard is Dickon's child."

She covered her face with her hands.

"They'll take it all away from me ... from him. It was the way Andrew wanted it. He loved Richard ... it made a new man of him, he used to say ... no matter whose Richard's father was, he did that for Andrew."

"He was certainly very happy," I said.