‘You’re back.’ Alice hugged her impulsively. ‘Thank goodness. It’s been so boring whilst you’ve been away.’
Not even Alice had known the truth behind Cicely’s visit to Marienbad: the fewer people who had known of her plan, the less likelihood it had had of leaking out and alarming Martin Goss, putting him on his guard. But now that he was safely in custody, the time had come to reveal the truth.
‘My time has been anything but boring . . . ’ she said.
‘Well!’ exclaimed Alice, when Cicely had finished her account of recent events. She shook her head. ‘Well, I never. And so Martin Goss was the thief all along. Gladys will be delighted. And so will everyone else. It was an upsetting incident, but everyone will soon know the truth. You have only to tell Mrs Sealyham, and it will be all round Little Oakleigh, Oakleigh and Greater Oakleigh by this time tomorrow! And Mr Evington was in on it, too, you say? Only think, we all believed he had gone to London. Oh, Cicely, it’s so good to have you back - both of you. Although we won’t have Mr Evington for long. He’s going back to London for good. I know you will be pleased. You never liked having him here.’
‘Going back to London for good?’ asked Cicely, dismayed.
‘Yes, I was talking to Roddy and he said that Mr Evington is returning this afternoon. I wondered why at the time, but now you’ve told me all about the theft, I can understand it. He doesn’t need the Manor any more now that he has caught the thief and so he is going to sell it. And just when I was getting used to having him here,’ said Alice.
Cicely turned away. She did not want Alice to see her face, for she was afraid her feelings of desolation were written there for all to see.
‘Oh, well, never mind,’ said Alice. ‘Perhaps he will sell it to a family. People who will love it as a home. That is what you always wanted.’
‘Yes,’ said Cicely, her voice wan.
Alice, mistaking the reason for this, said, ‘You must be tired after your long journey. I will leave you to unpack.’ She got up and went over to the door. ‘Oh. I almost forgot. Mother says you are invited to dinner tomorrow. Do say you’ll come.’
Cicely was once more in command of herself. ‘I’d love to. Thank you.’
Alice departed.
Cicely, walking over to the window, looked out over her small garden to the sweeping lawns beyond, and, in the distance, the Manor. Alex was there at the moment, but not for much longer, and so she knew what she must do.
She went resolutely out of the Lodge, knowing she must clear things up between them whilst she had the chance. She had to find out why he thought she was going to marry Chuff Chuff and she had to tell him that he was wrong. She had to find out about Eugenie, and after that . . . well, after that, anything could happen.
She walked briskly up the drive and as she approached the Manor, the front door opened and Roddy came out. On seeing Cicely he made straight for her.
‘You did a wonderful job over in Marienbad,’ he said enthusiastically, gripping her by the hand and shaking it.
If Alex had shaken her hand, her body would have been on fire, thought Cicely, but with Roddy the gesture had no effect and was nothing more than a friendly salute.
‘It is a relief we finally caught him,’ Cicely replied.
‘He will be behind bars for a very long time. I suppose you wanted to see Alex. He has just gone in to the village.’
Cicely tried to hide her frustration.
‘Oh, Lord! Is that the time? I have to be going,’ said Roddy, glancing at the watch that was slung across the front of his waistcoat. ‘I’m going to see a man about a motor. I’m getting one of my own at last.’
He gave her a happy smile, and Cicely did her best to return it, but she knew that the next few hours would seal her fate and she was full of apprehension. What if Alex was no longer interested in her life? What if his feelings had been transitory? What if it no longer mattered to him that she was going to marry someone else, as he believed?
She felt a touch of panic at her heart. She could not bear it. To lose him now . . .
And what would become of the Manor? Who would come to live there? Would it be a family? Or another cit? And what would become of it? Would the trees be cut down, or the library turned into a billiard room? She could not stand to think of it. And her father’s collection. Would the new owner allow the velocipedes to remain in the stables, or would he clear them out, regarding them as nothing but old junk?
As she thought about her father’s collection, her footsteps unconsciously took her towards the barn. She could not resist one last look. She opened the door, suppressing all thoughts of what had happened there only a few short weeks before, and ran her eyes lovingly over the velocipedes. Her father had given most of his life to the collection, and it was dreadful to think of it being disposed of. But if it must be, it must be. Reconciling herself to the fact she closed the barn door and turned . . . to almost bump into Alex.
‘Alex!’ she exclaimed.
‘Cicely!’ he said, equally surprised.
‘I thought you were in the village,’ she said.
‘I have just returned,’ he said.
‘Alex -’
‘Cicely -’
They both spoke together. He recovered first.
‘I am glad I have seen you. I will be going to London this afternoon and I will not be returning.’
He held out his hand, palm up, and she saw that something was lying there. And then she realized what it was. ‘The keys?’ She looked at him in perplexity, trying to read the answer to the puzzle in his face.
‘Yes. The keys. I want you to have the Manor.’
‘But why?’ she asked, her voice trembling with anticipation and hope.
She wanted him to say, Because I love you. Because you are important. Because you matter to me. Instead he said, ‘Because you helped me capture Martin Goss. I couldn’t have done it without you. I will always be grateful to you.’
Grateful? What use was gratitude?
He was so close she could smell his cologne. He had shaved recently, but already there was a hint of stubble on his chin. She wanted to touch it, feel it, run her hands over it. But it was impossible. Unless, was there still time . . .?
‘Alex —’ she began again.
He put a finger to her lips.
‘No protest,’ he said. ‘I don’t want a stranger living here. The Manor is yours.’
‘Alex, there is something I must tell you -’
At that moment, Roddy appeared from the direction of the house.
‘I thought I heard voices,’ said Roddy. ‘I’m glad you’re back. I need a lift over to Oakleigh.’
Alex said, ‘Very well.’
Cicely said to Alex, ‘You won’t leave without saying goodbye?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I will call in at the Lodge this afternoon when I pass.’
And with that she had to be content.
I hope he comes soon, thought Cicely that afternoon as she paced the sitting room back at the Lodge. She had already almost worn a hole in the carpet. She was just about to go and cut some flowers when Chuff Chuff walked in unannounced.
‘What ho, Cicely!’ he said.
Cicely felt a mixture of feelings on seeing him. Although at any other time she would have been pleased to welcome him, now was not the best of times. Indeed, it was possibly the worst, and she wished he had not called. This made her feel guilty and that made her feel worse still.
Nevertheless, she offered him some tea.
‘Not for me, no, Cicely old thing,’ he said. ‘I just popped in to set a date.’
She really was not in the mood for another proposal and said, ‘Chuff Chuff, you know I can never marry you.’
‘It’s no good, you living on your own,’ said Chuff Chuff. ‘Not even now Evington’s given you the Manor.’
‘How did you know about that?’ asked Cicely in surprise.
‘Cyril, the gardener. Saw him giving you the keys.’
Cicely gave a
wry smile. In that case, the news would be all round Little Oakleigh by now.
‘You still can’t live there, Cicely old thing. You haven’t got the money to do it. You shouldn’t have to be living hand to mouth. Come to Parmiston. Or if you want to live at Oakleigh Manor we’ll move in there. The Mater told me to tell you that. Told me to tell you we’ll use the Chuffington fortune. Do the place up a bit. Houseful of servants. Dinner parties. House parties. That kind of thing. House in London. Theatres. Plays. Whatever you like.’
‘No.’ Cicely’s voice was firm. ‘I can never marry you, Chuff Chuff, for the simple reason that I don’t love you. I know your mother told you to ask me three times, and you’ve done it, but I won’t change my mind. You’re a dear, sweet man and I love you as though you were my brother, but I can never marry you. I do beg you to believe me, for I don’t want to have this conversation again.’
Chuff Chuff’s face fell.
Cicely put a hand on his arm. ‘There are plenty of other girls who would love to marry you.’
‘Really?’ he asked, his spirits rising.
‘Really,’ said Cicely firmly. ‘I know for a fact that Gillian Fraser thinks you a very handsome man.’
‘Gillian Fraser?’ asked Chuff Chuff. Gillian was a diffident young lady who lived in Nether Oakleigh.
Cicely nodded, and Chuff Chuff brightened.
‘Oh, well. Not the same, of course,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘The Frasers aren’t the Haringays. Still, the mater would be pleased,’ he went on thoughtfully.
Cicely breathed a sigh of relief
‘Well, mustn’t keep you,’ he said, standing up. ‘Better go talk it over with the mater. Toodle pip.’ And with that he ambled out of the room.
Cicely sank down into a chair. Only to spring out of it a minute later as she heard Chuff Chuff, from the hall, saying, ‘What ho! Evington. Didn’t see you standing there.’
Alex! So he was here.
She had just time to smooth the wrinkles out of her skirt before he walked in the room. He stood there, framed in the doorway, a strange expression - a mixture of hope and fear - on his face.
‘You refused Chuffington?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘I thought you were going to marry him.’
‘That was what I tried to talk to you about this morning,’ she said. ‘I wanted to tell you that you were wrong. You had little faith in me,’ she added, as she remembered how quick he had been to believe the tale of her marriage. ‘I thought you knew me better than that. But I suppose Mrs Murgatroyd passed on some village gossip.’
‘I would never have believed Mrs Murgatroyd, or anyone else, if it had just been a matter of gossip. I believed it because Chuffington himself told me so. He told me that you could not be expected to live at the Lodge, that you were used to better things, and that your marriage to him would restore you to your rightful place in society.’
Cicely’s eyes opened wide.
‘When did this happen?’ she asked.
‘At the ball,’ he replied. ‘After the theft of the necklace.’
‘So that was why your manner changed,’ she said, beginning to understand. She remembered the moment clearly. She and Alex had seemed so close, and then, suddenly, so far apart. ‘But still, you believed him.’
‘I had no reason to doubt him. And I did not know you very well at the time. But I know you now, and I know that you could never marry a man you don’t love. But a man you do love . . . Cicely, will you marry me?’
Her heart stopped beating. ‘Marry you?’ she asked, hardly daring to believe her ears.
‘Yes, Cicely,’ he said, taking her hands. ‘I am in love with you. Marry me.’
‘And what of Miss Postlethwaite?’ she asked. ‘You seem very fond of her.’
‘Eugenie?’ he asked in surprise. ‘Yes. I am.’ He smiled. ‘Can it be that you are jealous? You have no need to be, because Miss Postlethwaite is not Miss Postlethwaite at all. She is Mrs Dortmeyer.’
Cicely looked startled.
‘Eugenie lived next door to us when we were children. She set out to seek her fate, and found it in the form of Hyram Dortmeyer. She married him, and they have lived happily together ever since, but for the purposes of deceiving Goss she reverted to her maiden name.’
Cicely laughed. ‘And to think, when I saw you fastening the necklace round her neck . . . ’ She stopped, realizing she had given too much away.
‘You thought Eugenie and I . . . ?’ he asked in astonishment. Then burst out laughing. ‘Eugenie is a fine woman, but I would never want to take her in my arms like this’ - he embraced her - ‘or kiss her like this’ - his lips found her own, and for a long time nothing more was said. ‘Or offer her my hand,’ he said. ‘You haven’t answered my question, Cicely. Will you marry me?’
A surge of joy welled up inside her.
‘Yes,’ she said.
He took her in his arms and kissed her again.
‘It is a good thing I returned to England today and not tomorrow,’ she said.
‘Why? Do you think I would have been content to let matters stand if that had happened? You’re wrong. I needed to know how you felt about me, about Chuffington, about everything, and I knew I had to see you one last time to be sure. I knew I could not leave for ever without discovering for certain if you were lost to me. If you had returned tomorrow, then I would have left tomorrow. Whilst there was even the slightest chance that I might have reason for hope, I had to take it, because I knew myself to be in love with you.’
‘When did you know?’ she asked.
‘I believe it started on the day I first saw you. You looked so appealing when you rode away from me on your bicycle that I couldn’t help being stirred by you, but it was only when I came to know you that I realized how deep those stirrings were: not just the stirrings of my body but of my heart and soul. And by the time of the Manor ball I knew that what I felt was love.’
‘You knew it so soon?’ asked Cicely in delight.
He nodded. Taking her arm he led her out into the garden.
‘I had been denying it until then, telling myself that what I felt for you was respect, friendship, admiration, concern - anything but love. But the night of the ball changed everything When I saw how upset you were at the idea of the tree being cut down, when I realized the Manor was not just a house to you but a home, as the tenement I grew up in, for all its faults, was mine, my heart ached for you. I wanted to fold you in my arms and promise you that I would never let anything change. My heart was already yours by then but I would not admit it. It was not until I saw you with Gladys that the last of my defences were stripped away.’
He saw her puzzled look and explained, ‘I had been denying my feelings for you by reminding myself that you came from the landed gentry, a class of people who had wrongly accused my sister of theft and turned her off without a reference; a class of people I despised. But when I heard you talking to Gladys I realized that I couldn’t have been more wrong in thinking you were the same.
‘You not only comforted her, you were determined to make sure she didn’t suffer by being wrongly accused. I could no longer hide from my feelings by telling myself that you would have turned against my sister. I knew it to be false. And with the last of my defences stripped away I had to admit the truth: that I was in love with you.’ He paused. ‘And then Chuffington told me that you and he were engaged. In the space of a few seconds I went from a glimpse of heaven to the depths of hell.’