Winter at Cray by Lucy Gillen

see his face. ’ She shivered at the memory of it. ‘ It was his eyes, Aunt Jessie, just as I remember them—that ’ s what frightened me so much. ’
    ‘ Well, I ’ m quite sure there ’ s no need to be afraid of the poor man, ’ Aunt Jessie told her practically, ‘ whoever he is. ’
    Louise looked at her wistfully, knowing Aunt Jessie would welcome the opportunity of satisfying her own curiosity. ‘ I ’ d love to know who he is, Aunt Jessie, ’ she said. ‘ Could you— ’
    ‘ Of course, dear. ’ Jessie got up from the edge of the bed. ‘ I ’ ll go down and see if he ’ s recovered yet, and if anyone knows who he is. ’ She stood for a moment beside the bed, looking down at Louise with her dark eyes kindly but glinting curiosity. ‘ It was Jon you called out as you came downstairs, wasn ’ t it? ’ she asked in her deep, soft voice. ‘ I told Stephen I was sure I was right, but he wouldn ’ t have it. ’ He wouldn ’ t, Louise thought ruefully, and sighed inwardly over the possible consequences of her impulsive cry for help.
    ‘ I—I ’ m not sure who I called for, ’ she demurred, her lashes hiding the expression in her eyes. It would not only be Stephen who was curious to know why she had called the name she did, she thought, but Jonathan Darrell too.
    ‘ Oh, it was Mr. Darrell all right, ’ Jessie Ross assured her blithely. ‘ I heard you quite plainly, dear. Anyway, ’ she walked to the door, ‘ I should get into bed if I were you, Louise. No one will expect to see you downstairs again tonight and the sleep will do you good. ’
    ‘ I shan ’ t sleep until you come back and tell me who that man is, ’ Louise told her, ‘ but I will get into bed. I ’ m very tired and I don ’ t think anyone will mind in the circumstances. ’
    She undressed slowly, her mind only half on what she was doing, and she was sitting curled up in bed when Aunt Jessie returned, her knees hugged to her, her chin resting on the resultant hump as she gazed into the distance dreamily.
    She looked up sharply when the door opened again and Jessie Ross smiled, a little uncertainly, Louise thought. ‘ You ’ ll be glad to know he ’ s not hurt, ’ Aunt Jessie began. ‘ He ’ s cold and a little exhausted from climbing up that hill, but we can be thankful it ’ s no worse. ’
    ‘I’m glad, ’ Louise declared, waiting for the news she feared so much. ‘ Now please—who is he? ’ Seeing her mood, Jessie came straight to the point. ‘ His name is Dupont, ’ she told her, ‘ Henri Dupont — he ’ s Simon ’ s brother. ’
    Louise stared at her for a moment, unable to grasp the truth of it. ‘ His brother? I don ’ t understand. What ’ s he doing here, on Berren ?’
    Aunt Jessie shook her head. ‘ He says he wants to see you, dear, though I can ’ t imagine what for after all this time. Apparently he ’ s been staying with one of the families in the village since last Monday. ’
    ‘ A week ago! ’ Louise exclaimed. ‘ Why on earth has he waited all this time, and why come up here at this time of night ?’
    ‘ If you remember, ’ Jessie pointed out, ‘ it started snowing during Monday night and it hasn ’ t stopped since until today. Maybe he wanted to get up here without being seen and that ’ s why he came at night, though frankly, dear, I ’ m rather confused by the whole thing. ’
    ‘ Where is he now ?’
    ‘ Still downstairs in the sitting-room at the moment, ’ Aunt Jessie told her, ‘ but I understand it ’ s been agreed that he should stay in the spare bed in William ’ s room until morning. We can ’ t very well send him down that hill again in the dark, dear, can we, whoever he is ?’
    ‘ No, of course not. ’ It would be a strange feeling, Louise thought, to have Simon ’ s brother sleeping under the same roof, and not one guaranteed to make her rest easily.
    Aunt Jessie left her alone and she tried to sleep, but found it impossible, for there was far too