Free The Adultress by Philippa Carr Page B

are a practical young woman.”
    “Can I find pen and paper somewhere?”
    “In the desk.”
    I brought it to him and he started to write.
    I took my seat by the window. I wondered whether Jessie might return early, for it was possible that she might be uneasy on account of my being in the house. Also there was Evalina. I was sure that child was a practiced spy.
    I thought, what a strange situation I had walked into, and wondered what would have happened if Jean-Louis had been with me. I was sure he would have taken over the management of this matter with quiet efficiency.
    Uncle Carl was writing steadily. All was quiet. I listened to the clock on the wall ticking the minutes away. There was a feeling of unreality in the air.
    I looked back at the bed. Uncle Carl smiled at me.
    “Here it is, my dear. If you take that in to Rosen, Stead and Rosen and tell them that’s what I want we’ll go on from there. Rosen, Stead and Rosen,” he repeated. “They are in the town. You can’t miss them. Number Eighty, The Street. There’s only one street worthy of the name.”
    I took the paper.
    “Come and sit by my bed,” he said. “Tell me about your husband. He manages Clavering, I know.”
    “Yes, he has done so since the manager died. That was when we were married ten years ago.”
    “This is a very large estate. Carew’s a good man, I believe. But it’s always better when the landowner himself takes an active part. It makes it more of a family affair … if you know what I mean. These estates in England have always been run by the great families who regard their workpeople as a responsibility. The good ones have always taken an interest. I came to realize that … and when I did it was too late. I know the people regret the departure of my predecessors. The old ones talk a lot about them. I neglected my duty, Zipporah. I know it now.”
    “Well, you have this good manager and you are trying to put your affairs in order.”
    He nodded. “I’ve been an old reprobate … an old sinner. Sins come home to roost, Zipporah. At least I’ve had a long life … not like poor Carlotta.”
    I said I thought that Jessie would be stirring soon—a polite way of expressing what I meant. It only wanted a quarter to four.
    I leaned over the bed and kissed his forehead. I did not want to be caught by Jessie with the papers in my hand. I tapped them significantly. “I will deal with these,” I said, “and I’ll see you later … alone.”
    He smiled at me and I went out.
    The first thing to do was to hide the papers. I pondered for a while and finally decided to put them in the pocket of a rather voluminous skirt which was hanging in the cupboard. It would only be for a short while as I must get them to the lawyer at the earliest possible moment.
    I sat by the window and saw Jessie return to the house, looking rather flushed and pleased, so the session must have been a good one. I imagined her telling her lover about my arrival and I wondered what they said about it. I was getting to get a clear picture. Jessie was obviously feathering her nest and, as Jethro said, Lordy was supplying the feathers. Jessie, devoted to the pleasures of the flesh, was determined to enjoy them—relying on Uncle Carl and Amos to supply her needs. I believed she was very shrewd and would have considered the possible impermanence of her position: no doubt she was endeavoring to prolong this very desirable way of life.
    While I was ruminating there was a tap on my door and Jessie herself came in. She was elaborately dressed and must have spent the hour since her return on what I imagined must be a somewhat intricate operation.
    She was smiling broadly and I did not think she could possibly have an inkling of what had happened during her absence.
    “Supper is about fifteen minutes past six,” she said. “I see to Lordy at six and that gives me time to make sure he is all right before partaking myself. I shall be taking his up now … so can you be at