Letty coughs and coughs, shaking and clutching on to Arabella as they stumble away from the stables, which are now ablaze, the bright orange flames leaping high into the air and showering sparks as they feast on the old dry wood and the straw and rubbish within. In the distance are the shouts of the crowd, now mostly surrounding the church on the other side of the house.
‘Come on,’ Arabella coaxes her, leading her towards the gates. ‘Keep walking, Letty. That’s right.’
When at last the coughing has eased a little, Letty says, ‘Thank you. Thank you.’
‘I couldn’t leave you there,’ she says simply.
‘You saw him throw me in there, didn’t you?’ Letty clutches at her and they stop walking. ‘Did the Beloved set light to the stable, to burn me?’
Arabella looks at her coldly. ‘Of course he didn’t. I don’t know how that started. I’m sure he was keeping you safe from the mob.’
Letty stares helplessly at her sister. Is Arabella telling the truth? Perhaps it wasn’t the Beloved who set light to the stable. Perhaps it was an accident. Maybe others saw him throw her there. She remembers the hard-faced Angel with the digging nails. ‘But you will come with me, won’t you? Don’t stay here, Arabella. Come with me.’
Arabella shakes her head. ‘Oh no. My life is here, with him. With everything we’ve built and the child we are going to have.’
‘But Arabella!’ Letty is amazed, horrified. ‘You know what he’s like! You don’t believe in him, do you?’
‘I believe everything,’ Arabella says simply. ‘And I always will. So don’t waste your breath trying to change my mind. But that doesn’t mean I want you dead. Go off and live with your Arthur. Be happy, and let me be happy. Leave us in peace, that’s all I ask. We won’t do harm, you know that.’
They start to walk again and soon reach the driveway. Letty sees that the Goreham police have arrived and calm is being restored. The barrier has been removed to let the black police van in. The sound of singing still comes from the church but the crowd is being sent on its way, only a few men and boys hanging about, hoping for more action. Now a new shout goes up. ‘Fire! Fire! The old stable’s alight! All hands to the well!’ and everyone left goes racing off after the new excitement.
‘Letty! Is that you? Thank heavens!’
Someone comes running towards her and the next moment she is engulfed in a strong embrace. She falls gratefully into Arthur’s arms, suddenly exhausted.
‘What happened?’ he asks, concerned. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’
‘She was trapped in the stables when the fire broke out,’ Arabella says calmly. ‘Will you take her away, please, Arthur? See that a doctor looks at her.’ She smiles at Letty. ‘I’ll send your bags on. Go now. Go on.’
‘Please, Arabella?’ Letty asks.
Her sister shakes her head. ‘No. I’m staying here. That’s how it has to be.’
‘Come on,’ Arthur says gently, putting his arm around her. ‘It’s time to leave, Letty. Let’s go.’ They turn and begin to walk through the gates.
‘Arthur . . . it was awful.’ She begins to tremble with the shock. ‘I thought I was going to die. That I’d never see you again.’
‘I should never have left you here,’ he says grimly. ‘I knew I should have insisted. I could have guessed it would be dangerous here. I’m sorry, Letty.’
‘We’re together now,’ she says gratefully, as he puts his coat around her shoulders.
‘And always will be,’ he replies, holding her close as they turn onto the road.
Letty glances back for a moment at her old home. I should think I’ll never go back. She feels a mixture of regret and excitement. Her gaze lands on the figure of her sister, dark against the house but clearly full-bellied, one hand resting on her stomach. Goodbye, Arabella. I hope you’ll be happy.
Cecily receives Letty at High Hill Farm with the kind of warmth a prodigal daughter might expect. At last, the scales have fallen, and Cecily is all concern and fuss, making sure Letty is put to bed with a cup of beef broth and a big stone hot-water bottle.
‘I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. If only Arabella would see things the same way,’ Cecily says soberly as they sit in the chilly farmhouse drawing room the following day. A doctor has looked at Letty and pronounced her unharmed but she is very tired and her chest hurts. They had to walk most of the way to the farm, before they got a lift from a passing motorist, and it was late by the time they finally arrived. Arthur left first thing this morning to report to the police station about last night’s events, and then to take the train to London to visit the newspaper he’s been writing for.
‘She never will,’ Letty says. ‘She’s determined on it.’
Cecily is quiet while a maid brings tea and anchovy toast and sets it out for them. The toast looks cold and unappealing, the anchovy paste thin. The tea, when Letty tries it, tastes watery. She is struck by an unexpected pang of homesickness: for the house, the warmth of the community, the comfort there and the delicious, unending food. Life outside, she realises, is going to be tougher than she is accustomed to. There will be challenges she does not yet understand, harder things to face than bad toast and horrid tea.
That is the price to pay for independence and freedom.
When the maid has gone, Cecily sniffs and says, ‘I can’t believe she is a lost cause.’
‘She is firm,’ Letty says. ‘We talked about it. I believe that in her heart she knows that the Beloved – sorry, the Reverend Phillips – is pure bunk, but she’s come to rely on her faith in him. It gives her life a meaning she’s always searched for, in the same way some get obsessed by politics or art or whatever.’
‘Politics I could have taken,’ Cecily says bitterly. ‘At least then we’d have preserved our inheritance.’
‘You still have your money,’ points out Letty. ‘The house was always Arabella’s.’
Cecily sighs. ‘I suppose so. But she was – is – quite insane, I don’t care what the judge said. By rights, Hanthorpe should have been taken away from her before she gave it to that maniac and his ridiculous herd of women.’ Cecily takes a sip of tea. She looks over the china rim at Letty and when she puts the cup back on the saucer, she says delicately, ‘And was it all true? The scandalous stories of what you all got up to in that house? I know he did some disgusting things, and in public. We all heard about the way he selected girls to be his bride for the week, and married off everyone willy-nilly. Shocking.’
‘That’s not quite the case,’ Letty says. ‘Nothing was done in public, and the marriages were supposed to be spiritual only. But I suspect it was a way of keeping people in the flock, and making sure they didn’t remove their financial support. It was only the rich ones he married off.’
‘Spiritual only!’ Cecily says mockingly. ‘That’s why Arabella’s expecting, I suppose!’ She sighs primly.‘Such debauchery. I believe we still have a case for proving she’s mad if only we could get her out of that place. Edward thinks the same.’
‘You mean kidnap her, like you tried to last time?’ Letty shakes her head. ‘Leave it be, Cecily. Please. If she is insane, it’s as well that she lives happily at home than rots in an asylum.’
‘But if she’s unfit, the house would come to you and me! Wouldn’t you want that?’
‘You should stop yearning after it. It will only make you unhappy. This house is lovely; you’ll fill it with children and make a new home.’ Letty puts her teacup down as well. ‘Let go of the house. It will only bring you trouble. We both have more than enough to be comfortable.’
Cecily purses her lips and sniffs again. There’s a pause and then she gives Letty a look, her eyebrows raised. ‘And you . . . weren’t you involved in one of these spiritual marriages? I imagine Phillips was keen to keep you in the community with your income.’ Her eyebrows rise higher as she sees Letty flush scarlet. ‘Ah. I see. You were. And let me guess.’ She smiles. ‘Arthur?’
Letty blushes even more deeply and nods.
‘And not quite as spiritual as it was supposed to be . . .’
‘He’s always been a perfect gentleman!’ bursts out Letty, disliking the insinuation. ‘We both knew it wasn’t a real marriage.’
Cecily says quickly, ‘Of course, quite right. I’m sorry if I implied anything else. But it is quite clear how you feel about each other.’
‘Is it?’ Letty is filled with a sudden and desperate yearning for Arthur. She hasn’t seen him since he kissed her goodnight and promised to see her later today. ‘I hope so.’
‘I’m pleased. He’s a sensible young man. Has he asked you to marry him?’
Letty blushes. ‘Yes.’
‘Good. And let’s hope his writings mean that even if we can’t stop the goings-on at the house, we can at least put any more innocent people off the idea of joining in.’
‘Yes.’ Letty sips her tea. Then she says, ‘But you know, despite everything, it was a happy place. I’m going to miss it.’
‘Miss it?’ Cecily looks outraged. ‘How can you?’
‘I don’t know. But I will.’
Letty is watching the drawing room fire die down to the embers when she hears, at last, the sound of the motor coming up the long drive to the house. Edward is returning and that means he will have Arthur with him. She jumps and runs out of the house, leaving the front door wide open behind her and casting gold light onto the ground. As soon as the car pulls to a stop, Arthur gets out, sees her and opens his arms.
‘Come here,’ he says simply, and she rushes into his embrace. They stay like that as Edward comes around the car and says:
‘Hello, Letty, hope you’re feeling better.’
She can’t answer, she’s too happy to be nestled into Arthur’s chest, reunited with him properly and for good at last.
Arthur is staying at the farmhouse but of course there’s no question of them sharing a room. They stay up very late, lying together on the drawing room sofa, talking quietly in between their kisses.
‘What happened at the police station?’ she asks, looking up at him anxiously. ‘Did you tell them about the fire?’
He looks down at her, his grey eyes solemn. ‘You asked me not to. So I didn’t. Much as I wanted to reveal the extent of that man’s villainy.’
‘We can’t be sure. We have no evidence. Arabella would never support me if I accused him, and she’s the only witness. It would only be the most awful, terrible scandal. I couldn’t face it.’
Arthur sighs. ‘I understand. But if he’s capable of hurting you and driving Emily to her death, isn’t he capable of hurting others?’
‘I’m afraid he has a power over others that makes him dangerous. We can’t stop that.’
‘We could lock him up!’ replies Arthur. ‘We ought to try.’
‘It’s my word against his, and Arabella’s, and all the rest of them. And I never saw him do it. It could have been someone else. It could have been an accident.’
‘Hmm.’ Arthur tightens his hold around her for a moment. ‘Well, I’ll fight him the only way I know – by revealing exactly what he’s like in print. The newspaper is interested in my writing a series of eye-witness accounts of what went on in the house. I’ll make sure he’s turned into a joke. It’s the only way you can stop these strutting megalomaniacs getting carried away with their power and causing real harm.’ He kisses her again. ‘I’m so glad you’re away from that man.’
‘It’s thanks to Arabella I got out of there,’ Letty answers. ‘She saved me in the end.’
‘I never would have thought she’d have it in her.’ Arthur thinks for a moment. ‘Do you mind very much about what’s happened to her?’
‘Of course I do. And about the baby. Goodness knows if she’ll be able to look after it. You know, in a funny way, I don’t think she actually realises she’s going to have a child. It doesn’t seem to mean anything to her. When the baby finally arrives, she might be in for a shock. I wish I could be there to help her through it.’
‘You’re a kind soul, Letty. Brave and kind.’ He kisses the top of her head tenderly.
‘But what about you?’ she asks, looking up at him. ‘You’ve lost your parents to the Beloved. I mean, Phillips. And your inheritance.’
Arthur shrugs. ‘They’re alive and happy enough. It’s better that they stay there now. Pa’s name is mud in town since the news came out about the place. He’s been blackballed from his club, and let go from his firm – not that he’s been there in months. The money will be sucked away to Phillips, but all the old ladies will be looked after with it. Worse things could happen than that it keeps a lot of old biddies happy and well stocked with sherry and crumpets while they wait for the great Day.’
‘You’re a kind soul,’ Letty says happily.
‘Two kind souls together.’ He smiles down at her. ‘And I rather fancy the idea of being a self-made man. Arthur Kendall, the great journalist and businessman. And Letty Kendall, the magnificent woman he marries.’
‘Yes.’ She hugs him tightly. ‘Let’s get on with living. Right away. We won’t waste another moment.’