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A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [134]

By Root 544 0
through to the end of term at the College of St. Francis, Maisie spent the time from Friday to Monday in London, keeping up with her business and spending time with James. And each Saturday morning they went to 15 Ebury Place so that James could monitor progress on the house that would become his home once again. The decision to pass the property on to James sooner rather than later had been made by Lord Julian, who realized that he and Lady Rowan would not be likely to open up the house for their use again. As the years advanced, it was clear that they were too ensconced at their home in the Kent countryside, and they thought living at the club might be getting rather tiresome for James. It was time for him to have a London home of his own; the Ebury Place mansion was an obvious choice.

It was close to the end of November on a clear but cold morning, when the air was crisp but the brim of a hat was welcome shade for the eyes, that James, while conducting his usual tour of the rooms, put his arm around Maisie and pulled her to him.

“It’s coming along so well, isn’t it?”

“I can hardly recognize it—it’s so much brighter,” said Maisie, looking around the large, empty front bedroom, currently in the process of being painted in the palest shade of sea green.

“Carter will be coming up close to Christmas, to begin bringing in new staff for me—they’ll be here in the New Year. It’s a bit like launching a ship, getting everyone on board ready for the passengers to embark on the journey of a lifetime.”

“It seems a bit like that, though I’ve only crossed the Channel a few times, and all but one of those journeys was during the war.”

“Then I will have to arrange a much more enjoyable voyage.” James kissed her forehead and held her to him. “Will you be my traveling companion, Maisie?”

Maisie swallowed deeply, feeling as if she had caught something in her throat. “We’re not talking about ships, are we, James?”

“No, not really.”

She nodded, framing her answer. “Then, can I come along just one step at a time? Perhaps when you have the tickets, I’ll be ready to jump aboard.”

Maisie could not miss his sigh, but was glad when he spoke again.

“And in the meantime, we’ll just enjoy whatever the day brings and be happy with that.”

She smiled and kissed him. “That suits me, James Compton. Now, perhaps you’d like to take me to lunch; I am quite famished.”

During her final week at the college, Maisie set to the task of packing up her belongings. She had acquired a good many new books since she started teaching, and it seemed that after each visit to Chelstone, she brought a few more from Maurice’s library. As she looked through the folders of lesson plans, she considered all that had come to pass since September, when she had been followed by two men as she departed Chelstone. Much had been laid bare—a man’s duplicity, a young soldier’s question, another man’s stand for peace, and a mutiny of enemies. There had been lies and secrets and a children’s book that changed the course of so many lives, though it had seemed such an innocent story. She picked up her copy of The Peaceful Little Warriors and began to turn the pages. It was an easy read, as children’s books are, with larger print and bold illustrations designed to catch a young imagination. And the ending was as she expected it to be

. . . and they all lived happily ever after.

She wondered about happily ever after. Did it exist only in fairy tales, in stories for children? Or was there hope, really? Billy and Doreen had a new daughter, named after a princess; yet the pain of losing their dear Lizzie would never quite leave them. And Sandra was stepping forward into a life she had never imagined as a new bride, without the man she had loved so much. Frankie was, she knew, even friendlier with Mrs. Bromley, but the slowly fading photograph of her mother, now more than twenty years gone, would never, she was sure, lose its place on his mantelpiece. And there she was, Maisie Dobbs, a woman who was loved, again. Was it that she did not trust happily ever after, that she was deliberately

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