Menfreya in the Morning (29 page)

“Miss Trelarken knows many people in the neighborhood,” he suggested. “It may be that she has gone visiting and forgotten the time.”

“That’s what it is!” cried Lady Menfrey triumphantly, and she began to eat steadily. She had something to cling to now. Jessica was visiting friends and had forgotten the time; Bevil was in Lansella on parliamentary business; they would soon return and it would all be explained. She wanted peace in the household so desperately that she would pretend it existed when it didn’t

William Lister, seeing that he had soothed her, went on: “I’m sure something must have turned up at the Lansella chambers demanding his immediate attendance.”

“Wouldn’t he have told somebody that he was going?”

“There might not have been time,” he said lamely.

“Of course,” cried Lady Menfrey. “That’s it There wasn’t time.”

Her husband was smiling at her sardonically. I guessed he believed that they were together. And if they were, I asked myself, if they had disappeared so blatantly, what could it mean?

But Bevil would never leave Menfreya. How could he give up everything? He was not a romantic boy to elope on impulse, leaving his wife and his career. There was some other explanation. But I was becoming more and more certain that they were together somewhere.

The meal had come to a dismal end.

“I’m. afraid,” said William Lister, looking at me almost pityingly, “there may have been an accident.”

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“Oh no, no!” insisted Lady Menfrey. “Jessica has forgotten the time, and Bevil has been called to Lansella.”

William and I exchanged glances. We didn’t believe it We “went to the drawing room where coffee was served. We were all tense and nervous. We talked desultorily, but all the time we were straining our ears for the sounds of arrival, and none of us was really paying attention to what was said.

It was impossible to keep the disappearance secret. I was aware that the news was spreading with the speed and efficiency of jungle drums. The servants would be discussing the possibilities of what had happened to keep Bevil and Jessica away at precisely the same time, and the story would be carried around … to Menfreystow and on to Lansella, which would surely not be good for Bevil’s reputation. That was what I could not understand; how had he, who cared so much for his career, allowed himself to be caught hi such a situation? Could it be that he was caught up against bis will? Or had he forgotten the passing of time?

In any case, if-they did not return soon, we should have to do something about it.

That was a very uneasy evening; and it suddenly occurred to me how lonely I was. I could not quite trust Sir Endelion, for since he had brought Jessica into the house, I was learning something of his character. He had been wild in his youth, and I could imagine his going through life tempting fate. He wanted something to happen … and was ready to risk disaster rather than suffer boredom. I understood this feeling, but I knew I could not rely on him. And Lady Menfrey? I thought of her kindness to me at the time of Jenny’s death. But then she had been acting in accordance with her family’s approval. She was too much a seeker after peace to be a rock in time of trouble.

William Lister was beside me; his face was puckered with anxiety.

“I know how you’re feeling,” he whispered.

“There must have been an accident,” I said. “Well have to do something.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “And soon.**

“What?” I asked.

“I’ll go into Lansella to see if he’s there. He may well be delayed on business, and a message to us could have gone *stray.”

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“The two of them must be together,” I pointed out

He nodded wretchedly.

“An accident involving them both,” I went on. “It could be so if they had gone riding together … but all the horses are in the stables. What can it be!”

“It would be better to take some action. The reason I wanted to wait was …”

“I know. You were hoping they would turn up, and you didn’t”want a thing like this talked about.”

“I’m sure it was what Mr. Menfrey would wish. But I think the time has now come for action. I’ll go over to Lan-sella immediately. I think it’ll be quicker and there’ll be less noise about it if I ride over. I can find out if he’s been to the chambers and see if the agent knows anything. If I can’t get any satisfaction there we shall then have to let the police know.”

I had begun to tremble; he leaned towards me and lightly, shyly touched my hand. “You know I’ll do everything possible . .. for you.” ‘

“Thank you, William,” I said; and I believed there was someone whom I could trust.

So William rode over to Lansella, and I waited, tense and anxious, for what would happen next.

We sat on in the red drawing room—a disconsolate party, and it was about an hour after William had left when we heard Bevii’s voice. We all hurried to the window but could see little, for there was no moon, although the sky was clear and full of stars.

“He’s back!” I cried; and I ran out of the room along the corridor to the top of the staircase. I saw him standing in the hall, Jessica beside him.

“Bevil!” I cried. I discovered I was so pleased to see him that I could not keep the joy out of my voice.

“Harriet!” he answered me. “The most maddening thing happened.”

As I went down the stairs I was limping badly. Jessica was watching me; she was pale, and her hair was loose and untidy; it was slightly damp too, but this did not detract from her beauty. Her eyes seemed larger and more luminous; it occurred to me that she, at least, had enjoyed the adventure.

“What happened?” I demanded.

Jessica held up something. I didn’t recognize what it was.

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She explained: “We went to get this, and then … found we were caught there.”

“Caught?”

“It’s all quite simple,” said Bevil. “Oh hello, Mother. Hello, Father.” Sir Endelion and Lady Menfrey had appeared on the staircase. “We went over to retrieve that thing, and then the wretched boat slipped away somehow.”

“Slipped away?” I was repeating the significant words interrogatively—always an irritating habit, I have thought, in other people. I couldn’t help myself, I was frightened.

“Perfectly simple,” said Bevil. “Benedict and Jessica were over on the island this morning, and he left his teddy bear there. He wouldn’t go to sleep until Jessica promised to bring it back to him. She asked me to row her over.”

I wanted to know: Why did she ask you? Why could she not have gone alone? But I didn’t I couldn’t betray my feelings before them all.

“So,” went on Jessica, “he kindly did so, and when we had found the bear and came down to the shore the boat was gone.”

“Where to?” asked Sir Endelion, a lilt in his voice, as though he were enjoying the adventure vicariously.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” put in Bevil, with an attempt at anger.

“You couldn’t have tied it very securely,” mocked Sir Endelion.

“I’m sure I did.”

“So the boat’s lost, eh?”

“No. A’Lee brought it in. He saw it drifting out to sea,” he said, “and he was bringing it in to Menfreya beach when he passed the island and we hailed him. He’s just brought us back.”

“Oh dear,” sighed J^ady Menfrey. “You missed dinner and must be hungry. I’ll tell them to get something for you at once.”

She sensed the disbelief, the growing storm, and she wanted to be away.

Sir Endelion said: “Well, you’re not the first one to be marooned on an island. It was always a favorite place of yours.”

I remembered then myself cowering beneath a dust isheet and Bevii’s coming there with one of the girls from the

200 Menfreya in the Morning

village. This time I had not been there to prevent the culmination of the adventure.

What, I asked myself, had happened this time in the house on the island?

Bevil was looking at me, and I was determined not to betray myself.

“Well,” I said coolly, “you’ve returned.”

I caught a glimpse of Jessica’s face as I walked back to the stairs. She smiled faintly. Apologetically? Defiantly? I couldn’t say.

It was half past eleven when Bevil came up; he had been closeted with William, who had returned from Larsella and I was sure was deeply regretting that he had gone there, for his journey had only spread the story.

He looked at me coolly, and I knew well that it was a habit of his when disturbed to feign nonchalance,

“Still up?” he said, unnecessarily.

“But ready to retire,” I retaliated. “Wrapped in dressing gown and thought.”

“What’s wrong?”

I felt that sharpness of tongue which I had developed as a weapon in my early days beginning to take command. “I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?1*

“That’s what I want you to tell me. What actually happened?”

He looked impatient. Another sign of guilt? I asked myself.

“You heard what happened. We went to look for the toy, and the boat slipped away.”

“You tied it badly then.”

“I suppose so.”

“Deliberately?”

“Now look here, Harriet…”

“I think I have a right to know the truth.”

“You know the truth.”

“Are you sure?”

. “I am not on trial. If you decide not to believe me, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

‘*We’ll have to do something about it. There’ll be gossip. Perhaps there already has been.”

“Gossip! I should have thought you’d have known better than concern yourself with that.”

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“Then it shows how little we know each other, for / should have thought you would have known better than to become the subject of it.”

“I couldn’t help what happened tonight.”

“Bevil, that’s what I want to be sure of.”

“Of course, you can be sure of it Good God, what are you suggesting?”

“She’s a very beautiful woman.”

“And you’re an extremely jealous one.”

“And there are going to be a lot of curious ones when this is discussed throughout the constituency.”

“I wish you wouldn’t try to be clever, Harriet.1*

“I’m not trying.”

“Well, let’s accept the fact that you are, without effort. What a stupid thing for Lister to do.”

“We had to do something. I agreed with him that he must go to Lansella. It was my fault. We had no idea what could have become of you, Bevil.” My voice had become earnest, almost pleading. I was fully aware while I quarreled with him how very much I loved him, how I needed him; and I was afraid because I believed I needed him far more than he needed me. “You’ll have to be very careful about your relationship with Jessica.”

“My relationship? What do you mean? She’s Benedict’s governess.”

“Nursery governesses have figured so frequently as the heroines of romance that they are becoming so in ordinary life, and when they are, besides being nursery governess, very beautiful, and the master of the house cannot hide his interest … when he disappears for hours with one—however innocently—and a hue and cry is sent out, there you have an explosive situation. If the master of the house is a landowner, a king in his own kingdom, he can go his own willful way, but should he be a Member of Parliament, guardian of public morals, a figure of righteousness, he’s sitting on a powder keg.”

“Quite a speech!” he said and began to laugh. “You’re good at them, Harriet. But 1 sometimes fancy you let your love of words run away with your common sense. Shall we let that be a peroration?”

“If you wish it.”

“One thing more. What I have told you about tonight’s affair is true. Do you believe me?”

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I looked into his eyes. “I do now, Bevil.” He drew me to him and kissed me, but without the passion for which I longed. It was like a kiss to seal a bargain rather than one for displaying affection.

I wanted to say: When I’m with you I believe you. Perhaps I’m .like your mother. I believe what I want to believe. But when jealousy should rise up again it will bring the doubts back.

I slept late next morning, and when I awoke Bevil had gone. Fanny brought in my breakfast on a tray. She set it down and stood at the end of the bed, looking at me. She would, of course, have heard all about last night’s adventure.

“You look worn out,” she said, as though she were angry with me, as she used to be when I caught a cold as a child. “I suppose you’ve been worried about the absentees last night.”

“It’s all over now, Fanny.**

She sniffed disbelievingly.

“Here!” She had brought a bedjacket and put it about my shoulders. I saw her sharp eyes examining me for bruises. Fanny would never forget anything she did not want to forget

She poured out the coffee and said, ‘There!” as she used to when I was a child.

I drank the coffee but could not eat with any relish. I kept going over that moment when I had stood on the stairs and seen Bevil and Jessica together, and the words Bevil and I had flung at each other later in this room still rang in my ears.

Fanny clucked her tongue and said: “I don’t know, I’m sure. All I can say is, you can’t trust ‘em. We’re better off without ‘em.”

“Who, Fanny?”

“Men.”

“You don’t mean that,”

“Oh yes I do.”

“If Billy had lived …** It wasn’t often that I talked of Bflly; I usually waited for her to broach the subject.

“Billy,” she said. “He was like the rest, I reckon. Billy wasn’t as much for me as I was for him.”

“But he loved you, Fanny. You always told me so.**

“He had a mistress, you know. He went from me to her. That’s how it is with men. They don’t love like we do.”

“Fanny!”

“I never told you that, did I? No I wasn’t the only true love for Billy. He had this other love … and you might say he deserted me for her.”

I was startled. I had never heard her talk like that before. Her eyes were wild, and she seemed to be peering beyond this room into the past.

. She was talking to herself, “There was the little one … and he gave me that … but I lost my baby … that baby … and then I found my other baby.”