Voices in a Haunted Room

by Philippa Carr

  “Its aspect could be completely changed,” he said. “I’ve always said that if those bushes were cut back and a little light let in, and the woodwork repaired, it would make all the difference.”

  “There’s a great deal of work to be done.”

  “That’s what Sophie has always needed… an interest.”

  “Fate has brought her here and led her to Enderby.”

  “Fate,” he agreed, “in the shape of Jonathan.”

  The very mention of his name affected me. I could not forget that talk in the shrubbery. I shivered.

  “Are you cold?” asked David.

  “No… no.”

  “Just someone walking over your grave, as they say.”

  “I hate that expression.”

  “I do too. I shouldn’t have said it. One shouldn’t refer to one’s grave when one is very much in the land of the living.” He put an arm around me. “I believe you would like to live in this house.”

  “No, David, no!”

  “I’ve often thought about these big family houses like Eversleigh with the whole family living in it. The sons marrying and bringing in their wives… and their children growing up there. It has occurred to me… in the last few days… that you might not like it and might prefer to get away.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” I was thinking of it now. Jonathan’s living under the same roof. He had few scruples where his desires were concerned. He was like his father in that. I had heard tales of Dickon’s wild youth. He had reformed not because he considered reformation desirable, but because he loved my mother exclusively. It was purely his own emotions—not a sense of honour—which kept him faithful. Eversleigh had become dangerous to me because it held Jonathan and me in close proximity. But how could I tell David that? And that the one I feared was not so much Jonathan as myself.

  “There are houses on the estate,” went on David. “For instance, the manager’s.”

  “Occupied by a manager at the moment.”

  “Jack Dolland is a good fellow. I don’t know what we’d do without him. It was just an idea. I don’t think my father would like it… but I did wonder whether you did not care for living in the main house. Of course, your mother is there.”

  “I am sure she would be most upset if we talked of going anywhere else.”

  “Then we’ll stay. In any case, I don’t think it would be feasible just yet. It was just a thought.”

  “Why did you bring it up now? Oh… Enderby, I suppose. David, I love Eversleigh. I have since the moment I saw it. I should not want to leave it.”

  “Then that’s settled,” he said. “You know, this really is a bargain house.”

  “A great deal will have to be spent on renovations.”

  “Even so there is some good furniture in it.”

  “It will certainly save Sophie’s buying a lot.”

  “I believe there is also furniture stored away in the attics at Eversleigh. I expect your mother will go through them and see what can be passed on.”

  “It is rather exciting, isn’t it? I mean for us all, not only Sophie. It will be nice to have the place occupied.”

  He agreed, and arm in arm we went through the house. It was strange how different it felt with David.

  They were pleasant days, though I could not quite recapture the honeymoon spirit. We rode round the estate together; David was welcomed everywhere. So was I.

  Sophie and Jeanne spent hours talking about the house, and I told them that Molly Blackett would be able to make the curtains for them.

  They discussed materials and colour schemes; and it really was extraordinary to see the change in Sophie.

  Jonathan, my mother and Dickon were away for just over a week. The weather had changed and it was less mild than it had been. The damp and the mists had given way to an east wind—the one we knew very well in this south-eastern corner of England. It could be penetrating and fierce, and although we were sheltered a little, being a few miles inland, it was never very welcome.

  It turned to the north and that could bring snow. I had been a little anxious for fear the snow would delay their journey, perhaps prevent their getting home, so when I heard the carriage turn in at the drive I ran down joyfully to meet them.

  I embraced my mother and we clung together.

  “Oh, I’m glad to be home,” she said. “Just look at the sky. Ominous! Those are snow clouds up there.”

  “It’s too early for snow,” said Dickon. “It usually comes after Christmas. How have you been getting on without us, Claudine?”

  He kissed me. And there was Jonathan, smiling at me, picking me up, swinging me high, holding me tightly and laughing up at me.

  “Do you know,” he said, “I forget she’s a married woman now. I see her as little French Claudine.”

  My mother laughed and so did Dickon. They were so glad to be home.

  Jonathan put me down and kissed me hard on the mouth.

  “So you’re pleased to have us home, eh?”

  “Of course,” I said, turning away and slipping my arm through that of my mother. “I think Aunt Sophie has really decided.”

  “I can’t believe it,” said my mother.

  Of course, Jonathan’s being home shattered my peace. He seemed to watch me all the time and I was constantly aware of him. I avoided him. Something warned me. It was that alarming discovery that I was not so much afraid of him as of myself. I was thinking of him all the time.

  My mother—once she had recovered from her surprise and misgivings about Sophie’s taking Enderby—threw herself whole-heartedly into the project. She brought in Molly Blackett and they discussed curtains and such things. She went through the furniture in the attics, and the main topic of conversation was Enderby.

  Dickon said the sale would not take long to be completed. He had had no difficulty in disposing of a magnificent diamond ring which would be ample for the purchase of the house.

  Sophie could not wait to get possession. Meanwhile we had the key of the house and she could spend as much time as she liked there. Molly Blackett had been summoned to take measurements; Sophie and Jeanne went into the town to make purchases. My mother said they should go to London where they would find a great variety of materials to choose from.

  Sophie demurred but at last decided it was a good idea.

  It was about three weeks before Christmas. The threatened snow had not come as the wind had changed abruptly and we were back to the warmish damp weather again—the kind which was usual at this time of the year in our part of the country.

  My mother said she would accompany Sophie and Jeanne to London for they need stay only for a few days; and it was arranged that they should go. My mother had some Christmas shopping to do in any case. Right at the last minute—as I guessed he would—Dickon said he would go with them.

  While they were away Molly Blackett was to do some more measuring and take down some of the old curtains to see if anything could be done with them; and also to note what fittings would be needed. I said I would go with Molly and explain what was wanted.

  That was how it came about that I was in the house on that December day.

  I had arranged with Molly to come at two o’clock, which would give us a good two hours before darkness fell. David would be busy all day on the estate.

  I rode over and let myself in.

  It was strange to be alone there. The house seemed different—my imagination again—as though it were watching and waiting… waiting to spring something on me.

  I was early and Molly had not yet arrived. She had to come from the cottages on the Eversleigh estate, and I was sure she would be there in a few minutes, for she prided herself on her punctuality.

  My impulse had been to wait outside for her; but chiding myself for cowardice, I had forced myself to go in.

  My footsteps echoed on the stone floor of the hall; I looked up at the gallery and wondered what had induced Sophie to take such a place.

  We were going to do the measu
rements upstairs, and I had a great desire to enter that room where I had heard the voice. I wanted to assure myself that I was not afraid, and that I was not so silly as to be frightened of an empty house.

  I left the door open so that Molly could come straight in, and I ran up the stairs.

  I went into the room and stood there.

  All was silent; and almost immediately I heard the door shut and footsteps in the hall.

  “I’m up here, Molly,” I called.

  I looked round the room. The blue curtains had already been taken down from the bed and lay in a heap on the floor. They were in good condition and could be beaten and brushed, Jeanne had said, and then they would be as good as new.

  I went to the door and stared. It was not Molly who stood there, but Jonathan.

  “What are you doing here?” I gasped.

  “Looking for you.”

  “Molly Blackett will be here at any minute.”

  He shook his head. He came on slowly and shut the door, leaning against it.

  “What do you mean…?”

  “Just that you will have to put up with me instead of Molly.”

  “What are you talking about? Molly is coming to do some measurements.”

  “She won’t be coming.”

  “Nonsense. It has been arranged.”

  “It has now been disarranged.”

  “What do you mean? Disarranged?”

  “By me. I have had a message sent to Molly Blackett to say that you could not see her this afternoon and would make other arrangements. You will be engaged elsewhere this afternoon.”

  “You are…”

  “Yes, I am, am I not! My methods are Machiavellian.”

  “You are most impertinent. How dare you interfere with my arrangements! How dare you send messages pretending they come from me!”

  “I am daring by nature. I had to get you alone somehow. It isn’t easy, is it? This seems a heaven-sent opportunity.”

  “I am leaving at once.”

  He shook his head.

  “We are going to talk. We have to come to an understanding, Claudine, I love you. I’ve loved you ever since you came to England. I made up my mind then that you were for me, and I have never changed it.”

  “Look, Jonathan, I don’t want to listen to this.”

  “You are not very truthful, you know. You should see yourself now. Your eyes flash. There is a flush in your cheeks. There is that in your voice which tells me you know as well as I do that you and I are meant for each other. It is fate, my dear Claudine. There is no going against it. You shouldn’t have rushed into this absurd marriage… then it would have been so much easier. Now what are we faced with? Subterfuge… intrigue… secret meetings… stolen ecstasy.”

  “What on earth are you talking about? I’m going now.”

  He stood by the door watching me. I felt a terrible fear and an almost suffocating excitement. If I attempted to walk past him he would catch me and hold me captive. I dared not do that and yet… what else?

  I hesitated and he went on: “You know very well what I’m talking about. Why do you pretend, Claudine? You betray yourself in a hundred ways. Do you think I don’t know you want me as much as I want you?”

  “You are quite… depraved.”

  He laughed. “No,” he said. “I am just in love, and I am not the man to stand meekly by while others take what is rightly mine.”

  “Rightly yours! Have you forgotten that I happen to be married to your brother?”

  “That makes no difference. You and I belong together. David is a good fellow… a very good fellow. He should have a pleasant quiet little wife. Not my fiery Claudine. She is not the wife for him. You are young and know nothing of love and passion and all the delights which I am waiting to show you. You would never learn them from David. He’s worthy… oh yes… rather a noble fellow. He would never step aside from the path of respectability. But I am not like that. I defy conventions, Claudine, and so will you. They are made for people like David, not for us.”

  “I wish you would stop talking about David. He is my husband and I love him dearly. I am very contented with my life.”

  “When you talk so emphatically I know you are seeking to convince yourself. You are not satisfied. You thought you were. Look at you now. Your heart is fluttering and your eyes are alight with anticipation. Why are we wasting time in futile words?”

  He approached me and when I attempted to elude him he caught me and held me firmly. He lifted me from the floor and held me in his arms as though I were a baby.

  “You see, I am a great deal stronger than you are, Claudine.”

  “What do you think you are doing?”

  “Showing you what has to be done.”

  “Jonathan, put me down. I want to talk to you seriously.”

  He lowered me and putting his arm about me led me to the bed. He sat down with me beside him; he had his arm tightly round me and he put his hand on my heart. “How it beats!” he said. “It beats for me.”

  “I want to go home at once,” I said.

  “I thought you wanted to talk seriously.”

  “I do. I want to say you must stop this, Jonathan. Don’t you see how impossible life will be? You… living in the same house. Either we shall have to go away or you will. It would be easier for you. You could go to London. You are there a great deal with your banking and secret activities. Go and stay there. It will be better for us all.”

  He laughed. “I should not see you then. Would you condemn me to a life of frustration?”

  “Please don’t talk like this.”

  “What then should I talk of? The weather? Sophie’s acquisition of this house? Is it going to snow before Christmas? Can you believe she has taken Enderby! No, my little Claudine. I have weightier matters on my mind. You, my lovely one. I am obsessed by you, Claudine. Claudine… my Claudine… who is different from all other women… who is a child and yet a woman… who has so much to learn, which I shall have to teach her. But she will be willing to learn. I detect that willingness. In fact, my dearest love, it is one of the qualities which I find so attractive.”

  “I wish you would talk sensibly. I must go back. I think it was very wrong of you—very inconsiderate to send that message to Molly Blackett. I remember that other occasion when she was making my dress…”

  “Oh yes, and the silly creature came back too soon. History repeating itself, coming events casting their shadows before them. But this time she won’t come, will she?”

  “I must go.”

  I stood up and he was immediately beside me.

  “I can’t let you go, Claudine.”

  “I am going.”

  “How can you if I won’t let you?”

  “You mean you will hold me here… against my will?”

  “I’d rather you stayed willingly.”

  “Willingly… What for? I am going now.”

  He had his arms round me. “Claudine, listen to me.”

  “There is nothing to listen to. There is no explanation. This is monstrous. I shall tell David… I shall tell my mother and your father.”

  “What a little teller of tales! You won’t, you know.”

  “You seem to have made up your mind what I shall and shall not do.”

  “Claudine, I love you. You and I belong together. A few words said in a church can’t alter that. What is between us is there for ever. It’s like my father and your mother. You’ve seen them together. That is how it is with us. Preordained… Fate… Call it what you like. It is not often two people meet and know they are the only ones. That is us, Claudine, and it is no use trying to pretend.”

  “I daresay this is your set piece with all the married women you seek to seduce.”

  “I have never made that speech before. There is only one to whom it would apply. Claudine, don’t go against what has to be. Face it. Accept it. And try to work out a solution from there.”

  “You seem to be of the opinion that I am as depraved as you are.”


  He bent back my head and kissed my throat. I wished that I did not feel so emotionally aroused. I ought to turn and run away. I knew I must, but he would not let me go; and if I were really truthful I had to admit that I did not want to.

  “Jonathan,” I said quietly. “Please, please let me go.”

  “No,” he said firmly. “You belong to me. You have been foolish. You must have known all the time that you should never have married David.”

  “Stop!” I cried. “I love David. He is good and kind. He is everything I need.”

  “You say that because you do not know what you need.”

  “And you know, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  He slipped the bodice from my shoulders just as he had in the sewing room.

  “No,” I cried. “No.”

  But he had forced me back on the bed.

  “You don’t want to go, Claudine,” he said. He took the pins from my hair and let it fall about my shoulders. I protested, weakly, I must admit, whispering—perhaps without conviction: “Let me go.”

  I heard him laugh and I felt his hands on me. It was as though I were sinking into mists of pleasure; and I knew that I had never experienced anything like this before, and that I could not go now… not even if he stood aside and allowed me to.

  I forgot where I was… in this haunted room, this room of strange voices. I forgot everything but that I wanted to be with Jonathan, and that I had never known such ecstasy and that I wanted it to go on for ever. Perhaps somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I knew I must come out of this madness and face the wicked thing I was doing; but I could not at that moment. I was swallowed up in my desire and my overwhelming emotions.

  I don’t know how long I lived in that world of sensation when nothing outside it seemed of any importance. But the reckoning came… and soon.

  I wrenched myself free. I tried to arrange my disordered dress, my loose hair. I stared about me. This room… this evil room! Were those voices a warning? Had I been told by some supernatural force that this room could be the scene of my shame?

  I put my hands over my face and began to weep quietly.

  Jonathan put an arm about me. “Don’t, Claudine,” he said. “Be happy. It was wonderful, wasn’t it? Didn’t you know it would be? You and I. It was perfect. Some people are meant for each other. We are like that.”