Philippa Carr: Voices in a Haunted Room

“Was she not?” Jonathan turned to her, smiling easily. “I expect she had to go away. I’ll find her, and if she still wants you, I’ll let you know.”

With that he bowed to us both ironically and went out.

“Well, I never,” said Molly Blackett. “The impudence. He had no right to come in here. I don’t believe the mistress wanted me urgently.”

“No,” I said. “He had no right.”

Her head shook and her lips twitched. “Mr. Jonathan and his tricks…” she murmured.

But I noticed later that she glanced at me speculatively and I wondered whether she thought I had encouraged him.

That scene in the sewing room affected me deeply. I could not get it out of my mind. I avoided him for all the rest of that day, and an hour or so before dinner I went into the library to talk to David. He was excited about some Roman remains which had been uncovered along the coast and he wanted to go down to see them at the end of the week.

“Would you like to come with me?” he asked. “I know you’d be interested.”

I said enthusiastically that I would.

“They could be important. You know we are not far from the spot where Julius Caesar landed and the Romans seem to have left quite a lot of evidence of their residence. They used this area for fuelling their ships. The remains of a villa have been unearthed and there are some very well-preserved tiles. I must say I am greatly looking forward to seeing it.”

He had blue eyes and when they sparkled they looked remarkably like Jonathan’s.

I questioned him about the discovery and he brought down books to show me what had been found in the past.

“It must be a most satisfying profession,” he said a little wistfully. “Imagine the satisfaction when great discoveries are made.”

“Imagine the frustration when after months and perhaps years of work, they find nothing and learn that they have been searching for something which is not there!”

He laughed. “You’re a realist, Claudine. I always knew that. Is it the French in you?”

“Perhaps. But I seem to be getting more and more English every day.”

“I’d agree with that… and when you marry you will be English.”

“If I marry an Englishman. But my origins will be unaffected. I have never understood why a woman should take her husband’s nationality. Why shouldn’t a husband take his wife’s?”

He pondered that seriously. That was one of David’s characteristics which I found so comforting; he always gave consideration to my ideas. I suppose that living in a household dominated by men, I had become aware of a certain patronage—certainly from my brother, Charlot, and Louis Charles followed him in all things. While Jonathan, although showing a great interest in me, made me feel that I was entirely female and therefore to be subdued by the male.

That was why being with David was so refreshing.

He went on: “I suppose there has to be some ruling about this. For instance, there would be some confusion if a wife did not take her husband’s name. What name should the children be given if she did not? When you look at it that way there is some reason in it.”

“And to preserve the myth that women are the weaker sex.”

He smiled at me. “I never thought that.”

“Well, David, you are different. You don’t accept every argument that is put before you. It has to be logical. That is why it is so reassuring to be with you in this community of men.”

“I’m so glad you feel like that, Claudine,” he said earnestly. “It’s been so interesting since you came. I remember your arriving with your mother and I have to say that I did not realize in the beginning what a difference it would make—but I soon did. I began to see that you were different… different from all the other girls whom I had ever met.”

He hesitated and seemed as though he were making up his mind. After a while he continued: “I am afraid it is very wrong of me, but sometimes I am glad of everything that has happened simply because… it has made Eversleigh your home.”

“You mean the revolution—?”

He nodded. “Sometimes I think of it at night when I’m alone. The terrible things that are happening over there to people you have lived amongst… and the thought is always there… Yes, but it brought Claudine here.”

“I daresay I should have come at some time. My mother would certainly have married Dickon sooner or later. I think she only hesitated while my grandfather lived, and when she married Dickon I would naturally have come here with her.”

“Who knows? But here you are and sometimes I think that is all that matters.”

“You flatter me, David.”

“I never flatter… at least not consciously. I mean it, Claudine.” He was silent for a few seconds; then he went on: “Your birthday will soon be here. You’ll be seventeen.”

“It seems a sort of milestone.”

“Isn’t every birthday?”

“But seventeen! Stepping from childhood into maturity. A very special milestone, that one.”

“I always thought you were wiser than your years.”

“What a nice thing to say! Sometimes I feel quite foolish.”

“Everybody does.”

“Everybody? Dickon? Jonathan? I don’t think they ever felt foolish in all their lives. It must be gratifying to know that you are always right.”

“Not unless it is universally agreed that you are.”

“What do they care for universal opinions? It is only their own that count with them. Always to be right in one’s own eyes does give one a tremendous panache, don’t you think?”

“I’d rather face the truth, wouldn’t you?”

I considered. “Yes… on the whole, I think I would.”

“We always seem to think alike. I want to say something to you, Claudine. I’m seven years older than you.”

“Then you must be twenty-four if my arithmetic does not betray me,” I said lightly.

“Jonathan is the same.”

“I have heard that he put in an appearance slightly ahead of you.”

“Jonathan would always be first even at such a time. We had one tutor who was always urging me to assert myself. ‘Go in,’ he used to say. ‘Don’t stand on the edge looking in. Don’t wait for your brother always. Go in ahead of him.’ It was sound advice.”

“Which you did not always take.”

“Hardly ever.”

“It must be a little disconcerting sometimes to have a twin.”

“Yes, there are the inevitable comparisons.”

“But there is supposed to be a special bond.”

“Jonathan and I have long ago released ourselves from that if it ever existed. He is indifferent towards me. Sometimes I think he despises my way of life. And I am not exactly overcome with admiration for his.”

“You are quite different,” I said. “The fairies at the christening dealt out the human qualities—this one for Jonathan, that one for David… so that what each possesses, the other doesn’t…”

“The qualities,” he said, “and the frailties. There is something I am leading up to.”

“I gathered that.”

“I should like to marry you, Claudine.”

“What!” I cried.

“Are you surprised?”

“Not really… only that you bring it up at this time. I thought—after my birthday.”

He smiled. “You seem to think there is some magic about the actual day.”

“That’s foolish, isn’t it?”

“Both your mother and my father would be pleased. It would be ideal. We have so much to interest us both. I wouldn’t have asked you if I hadn’t thought you liked me. I believe you enjoy our talks and everything…”

“Yes,” I said, “I do. And I’m very fond of you, David, but—”

“Have you never thought of marrying?”

“Oh yes, of course.”