Виктория Холт - Time of the Hunter's Moon

"I'm sorry ... I can't think clearly. This is such a shock. Lydia ... dead!"

"It was very tragic. Her husband was heartbroken. They had not been married more than three months."

"I can't believe this. I thought she was to have another year at Schaffenbrucken.

"Yes, I know. She was only seventeen. But she met this man and fell in love with him. We wanted them to wait but Lydia wouldn't do that. She could be very headstrong. Our father was most uncertain but he doted on Lydia. My brother and I were several years older. He was devoted to us all but he just adored Lydia. He died soon after she did. He had a weak heart and the shock just finished him."

"I can't tell you how upsetting this is."

"It is good of you to care so much. I wanted you to know. I thought you might write to Lydia again."

"Where did she meet this young man?"

"Mark Chessingham was staying near our farm in Epping. We're not farmers. The farm is run by a manager but it is a hobby for us. We live mainly in London and escape to the farm for weekends and when we can get away. He was there studying law. His family had their business in Basle and quarters in London, but he had come down to the forest to work. He had examinations to pass. Our farm is right on the edge of Epping Forest which is very convenient being so near to London. Actually that was why my father selected the spot in the first place."

He paused for a short while and then went on: "She met him one day. They fell in love and wanted to marry. My father would have preferred a long engagement but Lydia wouldn't hear of it and threatened to elope if consent was not given. In the end my father gave way ... with misgivings, of course ... But Mark was charming and it seemed quite a suitable match. As it was so quick there was a quiet wedding."

"She didn't write and tell me."

"Strange really, because she often mentioned you, and was so proud of him and of being married. He was a very pleasant fellow. Lydia had a little fortune which came to her on marriage. At first I thought that might have had something to do with it, but he seemed to be so well-off himself and his family's business was known, even in England, and he never showed the slightest interest in her money. They left England almost immediately after the wedding and three months later ... she was dead. We had such happy letters from her and even my father had come to the conclusion that after all he had been right to allow her to marry. Then one day we got the news. Mark was heart-broken. He wrote a most pathetic letter to us. She was too reckless, he said. Many times he had warned her. But she took risks. She was so enthusiastic, so anxious to shine in his eyes and tried to undertake what the experts did. That was the end. They didn't recover her body until a week after the accident."

I was silent and he said gently: "I am sorry to distress you like this. Perhaps it would have been better if I hadn't come."

"No, no. I'd rather know. But it is such a shock. When you have known someone as well as I knew Lydia ... even though it is some time since I saw her..."

"I'm glad you were so fond of her."

"Tell me," I said, "are you on holiday?"

"No. I am working in London but I thought I would take a few days off and come to see you. I just had the feeling that I wanted to. I have to confess that I read your last letter to Lydia and I felt then that I had to let you know. I didn't want you to think she hadn't bothered to answer."

"Lydia used to talk about her family quite a lot. She was so fond of you ail. I suppose you are the head of the family now."

"You could say that. There has never been a patriarchal attitude in our family. We were all such good friends."

"You're in banking, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"In the City of London?"

He nodded. "We have a house in Kensington, and then of course the farm. My mother died but we were always lucky in having good governesses for Lydia. There was always a lot of fun at home. Our father was more like a brother to us. Perhaps he wasn't strict enough ... with Lydia for instance. If she had waited ... If she had not been so reckless ..."

"She was such a happy girl. The way she talked about home ... you could tell what it meant to her."

"Then she went away with a man she scarcely knew."

"That," I said, "is love."

"I suppose you are right. If only ... This is a morbid subject. Please tell me about yourself. Lydia used to say you were going into partnership with your aunt in some wonderful Elizabethan manor."

"I think I must have exaggerated about the glories of that Elizabethan manor. Perhaps I tend to exaggerate when I'm proud of something."

"It may be that we all do."

"I seemed to give the girls an impression that we were fabulously rich and that we had this priceless manor with a very successful school as a kind of hobby. When I got home for the holidays I found that my aunt was in financial difficulties, was selling the house and that I was to have a post in another school."

"Which you did."

"Yes, in Devon-a rather marvellous old place in the midst of a ruined Abbey. The school is the old Lay Brothers' quarters."

"It sounds fascinating."

"Yes, it is."

"And you enjoy it immensely."

"It is exciting. I have the utmost admiration for my headmistress and the way the school is run and for holidays I escape to this place."

"It's a lovely house. I don't know why ..." He stopped short. "I'm sorry that sounded ..."

I laughed. "That sounded like the truth. An ordinary Little house ... not much more than a cottage, but there is something about it, isn't there? You haven't been here half an hour and you feel it. It's my aunt. She does that to places."

"I hope I have an opportunity of seeing her again." "When do you have to go back?"

"I thought of leaving tomorrow."

"Well, I feel sure you'll be invited to stay to lunch if you play your cards right. At any moment Violet ... my aunts devoted friend and companion ... will appear with a tray on which will be glasses and a bottle of her parsnip wine. If you drink it with relish and if you will go so far as to tell her that you have never tasted better parsnip wine, you will surely be asked to stay to luncheon."

"Does it depend on that?"

"Of course not. My aunt will ask you, and I have already decided to do so. That is good enough. But it would please Violet. Don't be too effusive for she is shrewd. Just savour, put your head on one side and say Ah. She is such a dear, though people don't always realize it. We like to tease her and please her."

"Thank you for the warning."

"And here is Violet," I said; "and yes, she is bringing her parsnip wine."

"It was a good year," said Violet, "and no one can make good wine without a good crop. You'd know that, Mr... ."

"Mr. Markham," I said.

"Oh yes, I remember now. Mr. Markham, now try that. Teresa, bring in those wine biscuits."

"You are spoiling me," said John Markham. He took the glass reverently and raising it to his lips sniffed the aroma as though he were testing wine in the cellars of some château vineyard. He sipped, there was a deep silence.

Then he raised his eyes to the ceiling and said: "I knew before I tasted it. The bouquet is superb, and this must indeed be a vintage year."

Violet flushed pink. "Well, I can see you are one to know what you are talking about."

"I was suggesting to Mr. Markham that he might care to stay to lunch," I said. "He's at the King's Arms."

Violet grimaced. "I heard the food's not up to much there. Well, if I'd have known... but there's only shepherd's pie and apple tart."

"I can think of nothing I should like better than shepherd's pie and apple tart."

"Well," said Violet, still pleased. "It'll be a pleasure. I'll see about laying another place." Teresa had come in and was introduced.