Chapter 29
By the time the Constantine family had returned from church and eaten the light nuncheon of fruit and cheese that Mrs Pritty had laid out for them, the tide was well out and a tempting expanse of sand lay exposed.
Cecilia was physically and mentally restless, and said so.
They agreed to change into their more ordinary clothes and practical footwear, then set out for a walk together while Miss Macintyre napped.
Chatting idly, stopping to pick up interesting shells and stones, the three sisters crossed the whole extent of the bay, only retreating to the lanes by the village when they began to fear that the returning waters might overwhelm them.
They’d bought a basket, and picked fresh green ramsons on their way back along the hedgerows; no doubt the housekeeper would have many ingenious ways to make use of them.
London, and the Season that would be in full swing by now, seemed very distant, and none of them missed it.
‘It’s so strange to think that great armies from many nations are manoeuvring not so very far away across the sea,’ Bianca said, looking out at the deceptively peaceful expanse of water.
‘Perhaps the navy are patrolling too, just out of our sight, in case of sudden disaster and invasion. We’ve almost forgotten about it all since we’ve been here, and yet in Town, I’m sure no one can talk of anything else.
A decisive battle might already have happened, and we should not hear of it for several days at least. I wonder if Major Bartrum has particular intelligence of the progress of the conflict? I should have thought to ask him.’
‘I daresay he would not tell you if you did,’ Bea said, not looking at Cecilia.
‘He seems quite close-mouthed and reserved, what little I saw of him in company today, though he was chatting easily enough with Miss Macintyre later on. And none of us can tell, of course, precisely how he feels at being invalided out, and unable to take part in world events as once he would have done. It can’t be easy for him. ’
Cecilia thought it prudent not to return any sort of reply to this comment, and instead turned the subject to something less dangerous.
Bea was right, of course – she might have had a wild encounter with Major Bartrum just last night, she might be hoping for another very soon, but still she could not claim to know him.
She had an idea of some of his secrets, perhaps – he had spoken briefly of his former fiancée, and she had seen a glimpse of the bitter self-loathing that appeared to possess him in the wake of her rejection.
But she knew nothing more of his past, nor of what he might hope for in his future.
She did not think that he resented her and her sisters any more, now that she had convinced him of their ignorance of Mrs Albery’s very existence until so recently.
She also did not believe that he was a fortune hunter bent on charming her (or anyone else) for nefarious purposes, which was not something she could say with confidence about Lord Pallant or his brother, or even, perhaps, his sister.
But she could easily be quite wrong in all her impressions of Alistair Bartrum.
She could be sure of nothing except the undeniable physical attraction that had sprung to life so suddenly and powerfully between them.
This could and should lead nowhere except to a little pleasure, for both of them, a little new experience for her, and perhaps, for him, a precious sense that he had been mistaken in thinking no woman could ever look on him kindly again.
All these must be good things, she thought, and sufficient in themselves.
She wondered if the Major would be waiting for her out on the beach tonight, if she chose to go out and meet him in the moonlight. In truth, she was almost certain that he would.