friendship with Maria Theresa, and your King George is more German than English. You can be sure he will side with Frederick. Then we have a war and our countries will be enemies."
"I believe you are here on some secret mission," I said.
"Ah, I am arousing your interest at last."
"Are you . . . here on some secret matter?"
"I am going to say yes because then you will think how mysterious I am . . . how interesting."
"But if it is not so?"
"If it were you would not expect me to tell you, would you?" He changed the subject abruptly. "You may have to come back here the day after tomorrow. I am going to drive you."
"Oh . . . thank you."
Then he said: "We shall put our heads together and find out how we get the papers signed."
"Are you thinking that my business is almost as devious as yours?"
"Exactly that. You see why we are drawn together. Birds of a feather ... is that what you say?"
So we talked until I realized that time was flying and I said I must go. I wished to be back before Jessie returned.
I sat up beside him as we drove back, and listening to the ringing of the horses' hooves on the road and sitting close to him so that his velvet jacket often touched my arm I realized that I was enjoying this with a different kind of emotion from any I had known before.
We arranged that on the day after tomorrow we should go into the town and collect the will. Then there would be the problem of getting it signed. I should have to think about that.
"Don't despair," he said. "I could slip into the house with my valet. It wouldn't be safe to ask any of the servants at Eversleigh. Who knows, they might be one of Jessie's spies?"
We laughed together. The whole affair seemed a tremendous joke. He talked about the conspiracy in a hollow voice, building up such a story of intrigue suggesting the most villainous motives for Jessie and the estate manager, whom he called her paramour, that we were quite hilarious, making the most wild suggestions in mock serious tones.
All too soon we arrived back at Eversleigh.
"The day after tomorrow then we escape into the town to collect the papers," whispered Gerard.
I agreed that we should.
"I shall see you then . . . unless you should stroll towards Enderby ... or I should happen to be near Eversleigh way tomorrow."
I hesitated. "I have to see my uncle. Let us make it the day after tomorrow. We must be careful."
He put his fingers to his lips. "Take care," he whispered. "The enemy may be on our trail."
Then we were laughing again and I felt quite ridiculously happy in a way which I didn't remember feeling before.
I was behaving in a way very unlike my usual custom, and with a stranger. I should have been wary then, but I had not yet begun to know myself.
I did not see him next day. After we parted that strange mood of exultation left me and the matter of my uncle's will no longer seemed the joke it had as we drove back from the town. It was just a sordid matter of an old man being besotted about a younger woman and so dependent on her that he had to bribe her to stay with him.
I began to feel I had been rather indiscreet to have told so much to someone I hardly knew. But when I was with him I felt that I knew him very well. I felt a closeness ... an intimacy.
Looking back I realize how unsophisticated I must have been not to realize what was happening.
However, perhaps I did feel faintly uneasy, for the next day I did not stroll down to Enderby, and if he came near Evers-leigh I did not see him, for I did not go beyond the closed-in gardens.
I saw my uncle during the morning with Jessie present nibbling her sweetmeats and looking, I thought, even more pleased with herself than usual. During that morning session we had a caller. It was Amos Carew, and he came up to my uncle's bedroom while I was there so I had an opportunity to study him.
He had bright dark eyes and a very curly beard and lots of dark curly hair. A hairy man. That was how I would describe him to Gerard when
"I believe you are here on some secret mission," I said.
"Ah, I am arousing your interest at last."
"Are you . . . here on some secret matter?"
"I am going to say yes because then you will think how mysterious I am . . . how interesting."
"But if it is not so?"
"If it were you would not expect me to tell you, would you?" He changed the subject abruptly. "You may have to come back here the day after tomorrow. I am going to drive you."
"Oh . . . thank you."
Then he said: "We shall put our heads together and find out how we get the papers signed."
"Are you thinking that my business is almost as devious as yours?"
"Exactly that. You see why we are drawn together. Birds of a feather ... is that what you say?"
So we talked until I realized that time was flying and I said I must go. I wished to be back before Jessie returned.
I sat up beside him as we drove back, and listening to the ringing of the horses' hooves on the road and sitting close to him so that his velvet jacket often touched my arm I realized that I was enjoying this with a different kind of emotion from any I had known before.
We arranged that on the day after tomorrow we should go into the town and collect the will. Then there would be the problem of getting it signed. I should have to think about that.
"Don't despair," he said. "I could slip into the house with my valet. It wouldn't be safe to ask any of the servants at Eversleigh. Who knows, they might be one of Jessie's spies?"
We laughed together. The whole affair seemed a tremendous joke. He talked about the conspiracy in a hollow voice, building up such a story of intrigue suggesting the most villainous motives for Jessie and the estate manager, whom he called her paramour, that we were quite hilarious, making the most wild suggestions in mock serious tones.
All too soon we arrived back at Eversleigh.
"The day after tomorrow then we escape into the town to collect the papers," whispered Gerard.
I agreed that we should.
"I shall see you then . . . unless you should stroll towards Enderby ... or I should happen to be near Eversleigh way tomorrow."
I hesitated. "I have to see my uncle. Let us make it the day after tomorrow. We must be careful."
He put his fingers to his lips. "Take care," he whispered. "The enemy may be on our trail."
Then we were laughing again and I felt quite ridiculously happy in a way which I didn't remember feeling before.
I was behaving in a way very unlike my usual custom, and with a stranger. I should have been wary then, but I had not yet begun to know myself.
I did not see him next day. After we parted that strange mood of exultation left me and the matter of my uncle's will no longer seemed the joke it had as we drove back from the town. It was just a sordid matter of an old man being besotted about a younger woman and so dependent on her that he had to bribe her to stay with him.
I began to feel I had been rather indiscreet to have told so much to someone I hardly knew. But when I was with him I felt that I knew him very well. I felt a closeness ... an intimacy.
Looking back I realize how unsophisticated I must have been not to realize what was happening.
However, perhaps I did feel faintly uneasy, for the next day I did not stroll down to Enderby, and if he came near Evers-leigh I did not see him, for I did not go beyond the closed-in gardens.
I saw my uncle during the morning with Jessie present nibbling her sweetmeats and looking, I thought, even more pleased with herself than usual. During that morning session we had a caller. It was Amos Carew, and he came up to my uncle's bedroom while I was there so I had an opportunity to study him.
He had bright dark eyes and a very curly beard and lots of dark curly hair. A hairy man. That was how I would describe him to Gerard when
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