Will You Love Me in September

I had been right. It was difficult to sleep. I knew there were all sorts of unusual noises in old houses. When darkness falls it is as though those who have lived out their lives within the walls and who cannot rest come out to live again. It was like that at Enderby, but I had grown accustomed to the creak of the wood there. I knew which stair seemed to protest every time one trod on it; I knew that the creaking went on until the early hours of the morning. It would be the same here, but they were to me as yet unfamiliar creaks.

I lay there for about half an hour, sleep eluding me. I dozed once and dreamed the door opened and Aimee came in. She was smiling at me, laughing at me, noting that I lacked her elegance. She was saying. "I am your sister ... ma soeur, ma petite soeur.”

I awoke frightened, though there was nothing frightening in the dream. I expected to see her standing by the bed laughing at me. There was no one there. I rose from my bed and bolted the door. I knew that would help me to sleep.

I was so tired that I did fall asleep, and suddenly I was awakened by the sound of voices. They came from below. I sat up in bed, startled.

I thought I heard the sound of horses. I listened intently and went to the window.

The moon shone serenely on the moors, and although I could see nothing below me, I was aware of the sounds of activity.

I went back to bed. The fire had died down and there was a chilliness in the room.

My feet had grown cold. I tucked them into my nightgown, and I saw from my watch-which I had laid on the table beside the bed-that it was three o'clock. I tried to sleep, but it was impossible. I was wide awake now.

I lay still while my feet grew warmer and I went over every detail of my arrival at the castle, particularly my talks with Uncle Paul and Aimee. Such revelations as she had made were enough to create insomnia in anyone, I assured myself, and as I slept so well normally, I could easily cope with the very occasional bad night when it came along. Moreover, it was understandable, as it was the first night in a new bed. One had to grow accustomed to beds.

I was thinking how complicated life was and how the actions of the past created the future, and their effects could be felt through the generations.

Then suddenly I heard voices ... low, sibilant voices. I got out of bed and went to the window. Men were coming out of the castle; they had come through the gatehouse.

I saw my uncle Matthew and Ralph with them, and there were three other men. One of these three was vaguely familiar to me. He wore a brown frieze coat and black stockings; on his head was a three-cornered hat. I was trying to think where I had seen him before. The men were out of sight. I guessed they were going to the stables, where they would have left their horses. I was right. After a short while they emerged on horseback. The man in the brown frieze coat was with them.

I watched them ride away, standing at the window until they were out of sight. Then, cold and shivering a little, I went back to bed. I lay there for a long time wondering why I should feel there was something strange going on. Why shouldn't my uncle and cousin and their companions leave in the early hours of the morning? There was no reason why they should retire early because I did. But there were the three other visitors. They must have come very late. Well, why should they not do so?

I was imagining all sorts of strange happenings. Why? Because I had just discovered that I had a sister and had left the quiet world of my mother's family. I had escaped from the cocoon and perhaps was looking for adventure. I had come into the orbit of the bold Hessenfields. Already I was learning a little more about my exciting father and discovering that there was still much to learn.

Dawn now streaked the sky. I got out of bed again and unbolted the door. I did not want someone to bring up hot water and find that I had shut myself in. I did not want to betray my uneasiness.

I lay waiting for morning and suddenly the realization came to me.

The man I had seen below was the same one whom I had noticed in the inn.

How strange! He had seemed to take an interest in our party. And now he had turned up at the castle. What did it mean?

The comforting daylight was creeping into my room, dispelling the imaginings of the night.

How many men in England wore brown frieze coats, black stockings and three-cornered hats? The answer was: thousands.

I was going to laugh at myself in the morning.