The Captive Read Online Free PDF Page B

the kitchen at meal times and particularly of Mr. Dolland’s ‘turns’. We had drama classes and plays were put on in the gymnasium for the entertainment of the school. I was Bassanio in The Merchant of Venice and scored a modest success which I was sure was due to what I had learned from Mr. Dolland’s technique.
    Then there were the holidays. Nanny Pollock had decided to go to Somerset after all and I spent a week with her and her cousin; she had become reconciled to life in the country and, a year or so after she left Bloomsbury, the death of a distant relative brought complete contentment back to her life.
    The deceased was a young woman who had left a two-year-old child and there was consternation in the family as to who would take care of the orphan. It was a heaven-sent opportunity for Nanny Pollock. A child to care for, one
     
    whom she could make her own and who would not be snatched from her as those of other people were.
    When I went home I was expected now to dine with my parents and although my relationship with them had changed considerably I longed for the old kitchen meals. However, when they went away from London researching or lecturing, I was able to revert to the old customs.
    We missed Felicity and Nanny Pollock, of course, but Mr. Dolland was in as sparkling a form as ever and Mrs. Harlow’s comments retained the flavour of the old days.
    Then of course there was Felicity. She was always de lighted to see me.
    She was very happy and had a baby named James and she had thrown herself wholeheartedly into the task of being a good wife and mother.
    She was a good hostess, too. It was necessary, she told me, for a man in James’s position to entertain now and then, so that was something she had had to learn. Growing up as I was, I could attend her dinner parties and I found that I enjoyed them.
    It was at one of them that I made the acquaintance of Lucas Lorimer.
    Felicity told me something of him before I met him.
    “By the way,” she said, “Lucas Lorimer is coming tonight. You’ll like him. Most people do. He is charming, good-looking … well, good-looking enough … and he has the trick of making everyone feel they’re enormously interesting. You know what I mean. Don’t be deceived. He’s like that with everyone. He’s rather a restless sort of person, I imagine. He was in the Army for a spell. But he retired from that. He’s the younger son. His elder brother Carleton has just inherited the estate in Cornwall, which is quite considerable, I think. The father died only a few months ago, and Lucas is rather at a loose end. There is plenty to do on the estate but I imagine he’s the sort who would want to be in command. He’s a little unsure of what he wants
    to do at the moment. A few years ago he found a charm … a relic of some sort, in the gardens of Trecorn Manor … that’s the name of this place in Cornwall. There was a certain excitement about this find. It was Egyptian and there’s some speculation as to how it came to be there. Your father is connected with it.”
    “I expect it was covered in hieroglyphics.”
    “That must have been how they recognized its source.” She laughed.
    “At the time he wrote a book about it. He became interested, you see, and did a bit of research. He found out that it was a medal awarded for some military service and that led him on to the ancient customs of Egypt and he came upon some which had never been heard of before. This book has interested one or two people like your father. Anyway you’ll meet him and judge for yourself.”
    I did meet him that night.
    He was tall, slim and lithe; one was immediately aware of his vitality.
    “This is Rosetta Cranleigh,” said Felicity.
    “How delightful to meet you,” he said, taking both my hands and gazing at me.
    She was right. He did make one feel important and as though his words were not merely a formality. I felt myself believing him in spite of Felicity’s warning.
    Felicity went on: