The Love Child

It was just a mischievous gesture, I assured myself. But I was uneasy that he had known about my coming marriage. Leigh had been in London and there was no reason why our marriage should be kept a secret. He was known by too many people and naturally they would want to know whom he was marrying. I was the granddaughter of General Tolworthy, a very well-known soldier, who had distinguished himself in the Royalist cause. My father was Carleton Eversleigh, who had been a close friend of the late King. It was to be hoped that not too much had been said about the Monmouth Rebellion, but I gathered that so many people were disillusioned by the present King that there would be little rancour against my father.

In any case, I felt better when the picture was no longer there, and I tried to forget it on my wedding day.

And so we were married in the Eversleigh chapel, and even as we emerged, my arm in Leigh’s, I was deeply conscious of the secret which lay between us and I longed to tell Leigh of that fearful night, but I knew that if I did he would not rest until he had taken revenge on Beaumont Granville and that could result in the death of one of them.

I could not escape from Beaumont Granville. I loved Leigh, I was capable of passion, but Beaumont Granville was there all the time. Leigh was conscious that something was wrong. He was puzzled and hurt. I think he believed that I still hankered for Jocelyn. I could not explain that I loved him, that I wanted him only, but there was something else I could not do and that was drive from my mind the memory of that night in Dorchester.

Leigh still thought of me as not quite grown up in spite of the fact that I had a child. He was uncertain of me and I knew vaguely disappointed. I guessed he would be uneasy when we were apart. He talked a great deal about the future and said that he did not think it was good for married people to be apart as they inevitably must if one was a soldier. When the situation was more stable he thought it would be a good idea to get out. We could not stay at Eversleigh Court for the rest of our lives, for that was the home of Edwin, his wife and the children they would have, as well as my parents and Carl. But there was the old Dower House. It was a fair-sized Elizabethan house-Eversleigh Court on a smaller scale. He would buy it from the Eversleigh estate and we could live there. Already he had plans for enlarging the house and farming some of the land. There was quite a large area of land which he could acquire.

“It would keep me home with you,” he said; and I was aware of the disappointment he felt in our marriage and I longed to tell him of that terrible night which had scarred me forever. I wanted him to know that it was due to no lack of love on my part, that all that had gone before had shown me that I could never love any man as I loved him. But when I thought of what the consequences might be, I dared not.

Harriet stayed on with Carlotta, Benjie and Gregory. She said she wanted to be with her son as long as possible and of course I was delighted, not only that Harriet should stay-she was always an asset at any gathering-but because Carlotta remained too.

Carl was sixteen now, Benjie a year or so older, so they were really quite grown up and were going to the university together in the autumn.

Leigh was talking about the Dower House, a favourite topic of his, and my father was pointing out that some of the land there would need a good deal of treatment before it offered good crops.

Carl said suddenly: “Why don’t you have Enderby Hall, Leigh? That’s a grand house… or was…”

“Enderby Hall,” echoed Leigh. “Hasn’t anyone taken it yet?”

“No,” replied my mother, “and not likely to. It has the reputation of being haunted.”

“What nonsense!” cried Leigh. “It was all right when the Enderbys were there.”

“Oh, that was a great tragedy,” said my mother.

“He was involved in the Rye House Plot with Gervaise Hilton of Grassland Manor,” added my father. “The houses were confiscated then.”

“First, though,” said my mother, “the men were taken away. Poor Grace Enderby was heartbroken. She tried to hang herself. It was in the great hall and she tried to do it from the gallery. The rope wasn’t long enough and she fell to the ground instead of swinging as she had intended to. She didn’t die immediately. Some of the servants said she laid a curse on the place and that her cries can be heard as you pass by at night.”

“So that’s how it got the reputation for being haunted, was it?” asked Leigh.

“No one has heard the cries,” put in my father. “It is always someone who knows someone who did.”

“I think it is often like that with these haunted houses,” Leigh said.

“We always thought it was a strange old place though,” added my mother. “The family had been ardent Catholics and there are said to be hidden places where they used to hide the priests.”

“What a sad story,” said Jane. “I don’t think I should like to go there after dark.”