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“I’ll go.”
    She stirred a little and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. “I’m not tired. Don’t go unless you want to.”
    “All right,” he replied after a minute, his lips once again against her hair. “In that case I’ll stay.”
     

Chapter Nine
     
    No more, my dear, no more these counsels try
    — SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
     
    On December 21 Linton left London to go to Staplehurst for Christmas. It was a tradition for as many Romneys as could physically manage it to gather under the Staplehurst roof at this particular time of year, and the head of the family must naturally be on hand to greet them.
     Linton, who enjoyed his large and noisy family, usually looked forward to Christmas. This year, he realized with a flicker of dismay, he did not want to leave London. The cause of this strange reluctance was Jessica. She had upset the pattern of his life, and he was beginning to be a trifle alarmed at himself. It would probably be better to get away from her for a time, he decided. A few weeks at Staplehurst would help him put her in perspective.
    The initial feeling of homecoming he had as he drove up the winding avenue of Staplehurst seemed to confirm his wisdom. He came out of the woods and there before him, its golden stone brilliant in the December sun, was the house, serene and sumptuous, surrounded by avenues and sheets of water stretching into the far distance. He crossed a graceful bridge and drove down one of the avenues, across another bridge, and into the stableyard. He was detained for twenty minutes by his head groom, who was patently delighted to see him; then he walked back up the avenue to the house, feeling the familiar peacefulness of Staplehurst seeping into him.
    Things did not remain peaceful for long.He was greeted in the hall by his butler and three noisy nephews. “Uncle Philip!We thought you were never coming,” said Matthew, the eldest, a boy of thirteen. “School let out days ago. Remember you said you would take me shooting the next time I came to visit you?”
    “Me too!” clamored Lawrence, the next nephew in size.
    “I want to ride a big horse,” chimed in John, age six.
    “One at a time, if you please!” he laughed at them. “And at least let me get my coat off and say hello to your grandmother.” He allowed his butler to help him remove his caped driving coat. “Lady Linton is in the morning parlor, my lord,” said his retainer with a rare smile. “May I say how pleased we all are to see you?”
    “Thank you, Timms. Run along for a moment, boys. I’ll see you later.”
    They groaned but obediently began to move away. “It’s been boring without you, Uncle Philip,” John said reproachfully as he went up the stairs. “Why did you stay away so long?”
    Linton merely smiled at his small nephew and began to walk in the direction of the west wing. His grandfather had built a magnificent sequence of formal reception rooms around two sides of the old house, but when the family was in residence by itself they used the smaller, more intimate rooms of the old west wing. Lady Linton was sitting alone working on a piece of embroidery when her son came into the room.
    She recognized his step and looked up instantly, her face lighting with the bright look it always wore whenever she saw him. Her heart swelled with pride as she watched him cross the room toward her, his thick hair gleaming in the winter sunlight. “Hello,’ mother,” he said in his familiar, beloved voice, and she held out a hand to him.
    “Philip!” Her dark blue eyes smiled up at him as he bent over her. “It is so good to see you. I missed you. We all did.”
    “Did you, love?” He sat down next to her on the sofa, an identical smile in his lighter eyes. “I’m sorry, but there was really no bearing Maria another moment.”
    She sighed. “Dear Maria. She has such a—definite—personality.”
    He grinned. “She is a boss, you mean. I am very fond of Maria, and there is no one I would rather