The Time of the Hunter's Moon

by Victoria Holt

  “He has taken the shortcut,” said Teresa. “You took the long way round, Sir Jason.”

  We went on and in a short time arrived at the school.

  Miss Hetherington came out to meet us. She did look a little disturbed.

  “Oh, there you are, Miss Grant. I wondered. And Teresa…”

  “I was at the station,” said Jason Verringer. “I saw the ladies and thought it would be discourteous of me not to offer them a lift. Now that I have safely delivered them I’ll say au revoir. By the way, Miss Hetherington, we have some monks’ costumes up at the Hall. Residue of the last affair. I’ll get someone to look through them or perhaps one of your people could do that. You might find them useful.”

  “Thank you. I shall most certainly take advantage of your kind offer, Sir Jason. Are you sure you won’t come in?”

  “Not now, but I will call later. Good day to you, ladies.”

  With a gallant gesture he swept off his hat and then his horses were trotting away.

  “Teresa,” said Miss Hetherington, “you’d better get to your room. I suppose you met Miss Grant at the station?”

  Teresa was silent and I said quickly: “I’ll explain. You go along, Teresa.”

  “Emmet has taken your bags up,” said Daisy. “Come into the study.”

  I followed her and when the door was shut I told her about Teresa.

  “She left them and traveled on her own! I shouldn’t have thought Teresa would have had the courage to do that.”

  “She’s grown up quite a lot lately.”

  “She evidently hated it with the cousins. I wrote to them and it was all amicably settled. They were really rather relieved. I think that much was obvious and I got their permission for her to spend the summer holiday with us.”

  Daisy nodded.

  “Her traveling on her own like that was not our responsibility,” she said. “I hope Teresa is not getting too fond of you, Cordelia. You have to be careful with these impressionable girls.”

  “Actually I think she is more with Violet than with me. It is amazing how they get on.”

  She nodded. Then she said: “And Sir Jason…I was surprised to see you in his carriage…and seated next to him.”

  I explained: “It was as he said. He was there. He was so persistent. I couldn’t refuse his offer without seeming impolite and…uncivilized.”

  “I understand. Be careful of him. He’s a dangerous man.”

  “Dangerous…in what way?”

  “I mean it would be unwise for a young woman in your position to become too friendly with him.”

  “I am not likely to do that.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Did he marry Mrs. Martindale, or is that to come?”

  “There has been no marriage…yet. There is a good deal of speculation as there has been since Mrs. Martindale came to Rooks’ Rest.”

  “She is there now, is she?”

  “Oh yes. She has been back for about three weeks. So has he and people are waiting for the next development. The general opinion seems to be that they will be married. The unpleasant rumor that he helped his wife to her death so that he could marry Mrs. Martindale still persists. I don’t like that sort of gossip about someone so close to the school. It is a pity the place belongs to him and he shows an interest in it. I am sure all those rumors are nonsense. He might be all sorts of rogue but he isn’t the sort to murder his wife. But until he marries and settles down I am afraid these rumors will persist. In the meantime it is well for our people to remain as aloof as possible.”

  “I agree,” I said. “And it is certainly what I intend to do.”

  Daisy nodded, satisfied. “It is not easy,” she went on, “he being our landlord and this connection between the Hall and the Abbey.”

  Later I saw Eileen Eccles in the calefactory and I looked in to have a word with her.

  “Welcome back to the grindstone,” she said. “Had a good holiday?”

  “Very good, thanks. And you?”

  “Lovely. It’s a long time to wait for the summer break. I always think this term is the most difficult. I suppose it is because the longing to get away is more acute than usual.”

  “Oh, please,” I laughed. “It hasn’t begun yet.”

  “I think it will be a grim one. Just think we are going to have that appalling Midsummer thing. I was here for the last one and you have no idea until you have suffered it what a ghastly business it is. Musical interludes, singing under the shadow of the great nave, prowling about in white, the robes of our founders…staging a little pageant…a play probably—act one the building of the Abbey; act two the Dissolution; and act three the rising of phoenix—our own dear Academy for Young Ladies.”

  “In any case you can laugh at it.”

  “Laugh, my dear Cordelia. One must either laugh or weep.”

  “I daresay we shall do more of the former during the proceedings.”

  “And after that—glorious freedom. Keep your eyes on that all through the weeks of toil and conflict: the light at the end of the tunnel. By the way, you came back in style.”

  “Oh, you knew about that then?”

  “My dear Cordelia, everyone knows. There you were seated beside him for everyone to see. This is not only the home of clotted cream and cider, but of scandal and gossip. And they are two of its major industries.”

  “There is no need for scandal concerning me, I do assure you.”

  “I’m glad. I shouldn’t like you to be stabbed with a poniard and your grisly remains buried beneath the ruined chancel…or perhaps your body thrown into the fish pond one dark night. Madam Martindale looks to me as if she might employ the methods of the Borgias or Medicis if the mood took her.”

  “She certainly does seem a little theatrical.”

  “And determined to reach her goal, which, my dear Cordelia, is the Hall and the title that goes with it. For these benefits she is prepared to take Sir Jason too, and it might well be woe betide any rivals for that desirable parti.”

  “You talk such nonsense,” I said, laughing. “I can assure you that a ride in a carriage does not constitute a proposal of marriage—or intentions to such a thing.”

  “I thought he might have his eyes on you, nevertheless. You are not without personal charms.”

  “Oh, thank you! You said that gossip and scandal were the products of this place. I think some people suffer from an excess of imagination. I have seen very little of this Jason Verringer and what I have I don’t like very much.”

  “Keep it that way, Cordelia. Be a wise virgin.”

  I laughed with her. It was rather good to be back.

  ***

  In spite of my assurances to myself that Jason Verringer did not concern me in the least, during the days which followed I was finding more and more that this was not so. Whenever I went out I looked for him; once I saw him coming from the Hall and turned and galloped as far from the place as possible. I believe he saw me but as he was on foot he had no chance of catching up with me…if he had been of a mind to do so.

  Then when I rode out from school on my free periods very often I would meet him and I realized that he contrived these meetings. In my position it was natural that my outings must occur at regular times and he quickly discovered when.

  This alarmed and yet intrigued me; and if I were perfectly honest with myself I would admit that I was far from indifferent to him, which was the state of mind I was striving for.

  He was intruding, not only on my free afternoons but into my thoughts. Whenever his name was mentioned—which was frequently, for one could not go into one of the shops without hearing something about him or his affairs—I would pretend not to be interested, when all the time I was trying to glean as much information as I could.

  I was very inexperienced of the world and of men. The only encounter had been with Edward Compton, and as I grew farther away from that the more like a dream it seemed. Perhaps if I had been more worldly I would have been more alarmed than I actual
ly was. The fact was that I was allowing myself to be drawn into his orbit and he—a man who had a wide knowledge of my sex—understood my feelings and determined to exploit them.

  He was attracted by me from the moment he had seen me riding with Emmet, and when he was attracted by a woman he was not the man to deny himself the pleasure of pursuit.

  Therefore he now pursued me.

  My acid manner did not deter him in the least. On the other hand, if I had been wiser, I should have known it made him all the more determined.

  From a man who was on the point of marriage with another woman this was deplorable. I refused to accept it and told myself that his manner toward me was the same as it would be toward any woman who was young and moderately good-looking. There was nothing special about it.

  But of course it was not so.

  Once I was riding out for my afternoon’s exercise when he came cantering up beside me.

  “What a pleasant surprise,” he said ironically, for he had clearly been waiting for me. “I am sure you won’t have any objection to my riding with you.”

  “Actually I prefer to ride alone,” I said. “One can go at one’s own pace.”

  “I will adjust mine to yours. What a glorious afternoon! The more so for me, I might say, since I have met you.”

  I shrugged that aside and said I should really return to the school very shortly. “There is a great deal to do,” I added.

  “What a pity. Is it the Midsummer orgy?”

  I laughed in spite of myself. “I don’t think Miss Hetherington would like to hear it called that.”

  “I want someone to go through the costumes I have to see if they will be of any use. Will you come to the Hall? I’d like to show them to you.”

  “That would be Miss Barston’s department. She is the needlework mistress.”

  “They don’t need to be made. They are already done.”

  “Perhaps they need a little renovation and refitting for whoever is going to wear them. I will tell Miss Hetherington that you want Miss Barston to call.”

  “I was hoping you would come. After all it is a matter of how the costumes should be worn…and all that.”

  “How many ways are there of wearing Cistercian robes, I wonder?”

  “You would know. That is why I want you to come.”

  “It really is Miss Barston you need.”

  “I do not need Miss Barston. I need Miss Grant.”

  I glanced at him in cold surprise.

  “Yes,” he went on. “Why are you so aloof? Are you afraid of me?”

  “Afraid of you! Why should I be?”

  “Well, I am represented as a bit of an ogre, aren’t I?”

  “Are you? I thought you were a widower who is about to remarry.”

  He burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s it!” he said. “The tales they tell about my family are really quite amusing. Now there is only myself I have to bear the whole brunt. Once my brother shared it with me.”

  “Your life is so colorful, I suppose. You certainly provide the neighborhood with something to talk about.”

  “So I have my uses. Cordelia, why can’t we be…friends?”

  “One doesn’t just make up one’s mind to be friends. Friendship is something that grows.”

  “Well, give ours a chance to grow, will you?”

  My heart was beating faster than it should. He certainly had a potent effect on me.

  “Everything has its chance,” I said.

  “So even I have…with you?”

  I spurred up my horse and broke into a canter. I turned off and galloped across a field.

  He was beside me all the way. I had to pull up as we came to the road.

  “Exhilarating,” he said.

  I agreed.

  “I have to return now. I mustn’t be late. I have a class starting in an hour and I have to get back and change.”

  He nodded and rode beside me. He did not come right up to the school. I wondered whether he was aware of the gossip and did not want it to get to Marcia Martindale’s ears, or whether he thought it would displease me and make me refuse to ride with him again.

  I went into the school, changed into a blouse and skirt and hurried to my class.

  But I could not stop thinking of him.

  ***

  Two days later during my afternoon break I did not go riding. I was sure that if I did I should meet him again. So I took a stroll through the ruins of the Abbey.

  There it was quiet and peaceful and yet at the same time I was aware of a sense of warning as I always was when I was alone among the ruins. I suppose it was the brooding atmosphere of antiquity, the realization that once this had been a flourishing community of saintly men going about their work…and then suddenly the blow had fallen and in place of all that calm beauty and sanctity there was ruin. It was still beautiful, of course. That could not be completely destroyed. A thing of beauty was a joy forever—even when vandals had done their best to destroy it. But so much of the Abbey remained, and how impressive it was with those stone walls—roofless as they were—reaching to the sky.

  I walked through the transept and the nave, looking up at the blue sky above me. I passed through the narthex on the west side of the basilica and skirting the chapel and the Abbot’s House, I left the ruins a little behind me and came to the fish ponds.

  I stood for a little while watching the water which flowed from one pond to another. There were three of them, the second lower than the first, the third lower than the second, so that where they flowed into each other there were waterfalls. It was very effective and beautiful to watch.

  I was standing by the water deep in thought when I heard a footstep and turning sharply saw Jason Verringer.

  He approached smiling, hat in hand.

  “What made you come here?” I demanded and then realized the folly and impertinence of such a question. After all the Abbey lands belonged to him. He could go where he wished.

  He was still smiling.

  “Guess,” he said. “Only one…not the usual three…because the answer is obvious. I’ll tell you. To see you.”

  “But how did you know…?”

  “Very simple really. You weren’t riding so the chances were that you were walking. Where would you walk? Well, the ruins are irresistible, aren’t they? So I tethered my horse not far from here and was walking through the ruins when I saw you admiring the ponds. They are worthy of attention, aren’t they?”

  “They are. I was imagining the monks sitting here fishing.”

  “As the worthy Emmet does, I believe, and provides you with the fish you eat at the table.”

  “That’s true.”

  “It is one of the privileges Miss Hetherington has extracted from me.”

  “I am sure she is most appreciative.”

  “She always seems so. I am devoted to her really. When the school is not in residence it is extremely dull.”

  “Surely not, with the estate and…all your activities.”

  “There is still something missing…something very attractive.”

  I laughed. “You exaggerate, of course. And in any case you were abroad most of the winter.”

  “Just this year, yes. The circumstances were rather different from usual.”

  “Yes, of course. Do you ever fish in these ponds?”

  He shook his head. “I know some of my people do. The fish, I am assured, is excellent and occasionally some of it finds its way to our table.”

  I nodded and looked at the watch pinned to my blouse.

  “It isn’t time yet,” he said. “Why is it that when we meet you always become very interested in when we shall part?”

  “A schoolmistress’s life is run by time. You must know that.”

  “The monks lived by bells. You are like them.”

  “Yes, I suppose so. And the time I take off in the afternoon is between classes.”

  “Which makes it easy to know when you will be available. You should come and dine with me one nig
ht at the Hall.”

  “I think Miss Hetherington would consider that somewhat indecorous.”

  “I was not asking Miss Hetherington. Does she rule your life?”

  “A headmistress in a school of this nature would have a great influence on the behavior of her staff.”

  “In choosing their friends? In deciding what invitations they should accept? Oh come, you are in an Abbey, I know, but it is only the ruins of one. You are not a nun taking your vows.”

  “It is kind of you to invite me but it is impossible for me to accept.”

  “There might be a way.”

  “I can see none.”

  We had been walking along by the side of the ponds and he stopped suddenly and turning to me laid his hands on my shoulders.

  “Cordelia,” he said, “suppose Miss Hetherington was agreeable, would you then come and dine with me?”

  I hesitated and he said: “You would.”

  “No…no…I don’t think it would be very…suitable. Besides, as it is out of the question I see no point in discussing it.”

  “I am really getting rather fond of you, Cordelia.”

  I was silent for a moment and started to walk. He slipped his arm through mine. I wished he would not touch me. He made me feel very embarrassed and uneasy.

  “You are fond of a number of people I daresay,” I replied.

  “That is an indication of my affectionate nature. What I mean is that I am getting particularly fond of you.”

  I released myself and said: “It really is time I went back. I was only taking a short walk through the ruins.”

  “Oh, I know you hear tales of me, but you mustn’t let them affect you. They have been going on for hundreds of years. I am here at the moment so I am the central figure in all the scandals. All my ancestors have shared the same fate, Monsters of Iniquity. That’s what they have all been made out to be. We always laughed at the stories circulated about us. Let the people amuse themselves at our expense, we used to say. Their lives are dull. Let them live vicariously through us. Why there is even a story about these fish ponds. Have you heard yet that my great-great-great-grandfather was said to have murdered a man and thrown his body into these very ponds?”

  I looked at them and shuddered.

  “The ponds flow into the river,” he went on, “and it is fast moving at this point because of the flow from the ponds. I’ll show you. Come to the end there and you’ll see. The river is only a few miles from the sea…so the poor victim was carried away and his bones now lie somewhere at the bottom of the ocean.”