Miss Silver smiled benignly.

‘Your father was not only a sensible man, he was a Christian.’

Louisa Arnold’s eyes were suddenly moist.

‘Oh, yes!’

The Miss Benevents drove home in silence. Miss Cara was exhausted, but in Miss Olivia’s case it was the silence of displeasure. Derek and Candida, in front, had their own thoughts. If they had been alone they might have found quite a lot to say, but since everything must be overheard, they kept their warm and happy counsel.

Arriving at Underhill, the three ladies entered the hall, and Derek took the car round to the garage. Miss Cara’s ascent of the stairs was slow and so halting that Candida put an arm round her and went with her to her room.

‘Can I help you, Aunt Cara?’

‘Oh, no, my dear – no. I will just sit in my chair until Anna comes – if you will ring the bell – I am only a little tired – so many people all talking at once.’ She leaned back and closed her eyes.

Candida went out into the passage and looked along it. She wouldn’t go until Anna was in sight.

But it was Miss Olivia who came towards her in her purple dress, her gold and amethyst ornaments catching the light. Not for the first time Candida found herself wondering whether the black hair was a wig. It was so incredibly shiny and so very, very black. There was never a break in the even waves, or a hair that was out of place. The dark eyes looked coldly at Candida.

‘What are you doing here? It is time we were all in bed.’

There was nothing to soften the words. Candida coloured high.

‘It was Aunt Cara,’ she said.

‘What about her?’

‘She seems so tired. She said Anna would come – ’

‘Anna will assist us both. She always does.’

A little spark of anger kindled in Candida. She said quickly and warmly,

‘I don’t think Aunt Cara is well – I don’t really. People kept saying tonight how ill she looked.’

‘They should mind their own business.’

Candida said,

‘I nursed Barbara for three years. I think Aunt Cara is ill.’

Miss Olivia’s face changed suddenly. The features went sharp. There was a cold fury in the eyes. Her hand came up and struck. A quick blow took Candida on the cheek-bone. The heavy amethyst bracelet tore a long scratch across her chin.

She stepped back, too much shocked for anger. Miss Olivia said in a voice edged with rage,

‘Hold your tongue!’

Neither of them saw Anna until she was there between them, her face twitching, her hand shaking on Candida’s arm.

‘What is this! No, no – there is nothing – I am stupid! It is late, and Miss Cara will be tired! We shall all be tired in the morning!’

Candida said in a level voice,

‘Yes, Aunt Cara is tired. You had better go to her.’

Miss Olivia Benevent walked past them into her room and shut the door.

Chapter Nineteen

Candida walked away. She had nothing to say to Anna. She had nothing to say to anyone. She was too horrified to be angry. The sudden violence appalled her. It seemed so completely without reason – in such unexplained conflict with Olivia Benevent’s dignity and self-control.

When she reached her room she took off the white dress and hung it up in the gloomy Victorian wardrobe on the right of the door. She wondered if she would ever want to wear it again, because Miss Olivia had chosen it and given it to her. And then it came to her that she would forget that and only remember that she had worn it when Stephen held her in his arms. The shocking feeling began to pass. She began to wonder why the thing had happened. She had said that Miss Cara seemed ill, and Olivia had struck her. There didn’t seem to be any sense in it. Perhaps there wasn’t ever any sense about people getting angry, but as a rule you did know why.

She put up her hand to her face and brought it away with a smear of blood on the forefinger. If there was blood on the dress, she couldn’t wear it again. They said blood never came out, but that was nonsense. But she didn’t want to look and see whether the dress was stained. If it was, let it stay in the dark – she didn’t want to see it. It was the amethyst bracelet that had broken the skin. The stones were large and the gold setting heavy. She held a cloth steeped in cold water to the scratch, but the blood went on starting. It took her some time to stop it.

She put on her dressing-gown and sat down by the fire. There was so much to think about. There was Stephen. She remembered with astonishment that there had been anger between them, that they had quarrelled. It didn’t seem possible that their bond had ever been broken. She could see it bright and strong, always there even from the very first moment when he had called to her from the sea. Perseus coming to rescue Andromeda chained to the cliff. But it wasn’t he who had the Gorgon’s head. It was Olivia Benevent who was Medusa with the eyes which turned to stone. Only instead of the wreath of twining snakes there were the black waves of her hair.

Her thoughts had begun to slip into fantasy, when there was a tapping at the door and without waiting for an answer Anna came in, her hands outstretched, her eyes full of tears.

‘Oh, Miss Candida, what do I say – I am so sorry, so sorry! I would have come before, but I have to put my poor Miss Cara into her bed. She is tired, she is exhausted, she is ill. And she is cold, my poor Miss Cara – she is so cold! There are two hot water-bottles in her bed. I wrap her in a soft, warm shawl, and I bring her hot milk with brandy in it. Now she sleeps. And all this time Miss Olivia shuts her door. I knock upon it and there is no answer. I try the handle and it will not turn – the door is locked. So then I come here to you.’ She drew in her breath with a sound of sharp distress. ‘Oh, there is blood on your face! My poor Miss Candida!’

Candida said, ‘It isn’t anything.’ There was a little bead of blood upon her chin, but it had begun to dry.

Anna clucked over her like a distressed hen.

‘It was the heavy bracelet. She did not mean to do that. It will not leave a scar.’

‘Oh, no – it’s nothing.’

‘She will be so distressed when she sees it. And your cheek – there will be a bruise!’

‘It will soon go. Anna, why did she do it?’

Anna made a wringing motion with her hands.

‘You said something about Miss Cara – I should have warned you. But what is one to do? One says too much, or one says too little. How is one to know what is right? I say nothing, and this happens! I have served them for forty years, and still I do not know what is best.’

Candida looked at her gravely.

‘Why was she so angry?’

Anna threw up her hands.

‘How do I know? You do not tell me what you say. It is something about Miss Cara?’

‘I said that she was tired – I had to help her up the stairs. I said that she was ill.’

‘But that is what no one must ever say. No one – no one must say it. I should have told you. Even I, after all these years – I tell you, you are not the only one. She has struck me before now. No one must ever say that Miss Cara is ill – she will not bear it.’

‘Why?’

‘Do you not know?’

‘How can I? It doesn’t make sense.’

Anna closed her lips and turned away. She moved towards the door. And then very suddenly she came back again, her white hair sticking up in a fuzz and her face working.

‘Miss Candida, do you not know what is on her mind? If Miss Cara is ill – she thinks suppose it were that Miss Cara should die. She is not strong – she has never been strong. If she dies, what happens then – what will there be left for Miss Olivia? Everything belongs to Miss Cara, but only for her life. She cannot leave it to her sister – not one penny of it! Miss Olivia will have enough to live on – in a little house in Retley! What would that be like for her? Do you think she would bear it? But this house and everything in it, and the money, and the Treasure – if there is any of it left, and how do I know if there is or not – all these things will be yours! And you tell her that Miss Cara is ill! Do you ask why she strikes you?’