languish in the house for hours and hours, and the boy would have no one. I understand he would be found by his ayah weeping outside his mother’s door, afraid she might leave him.”
“But she didn’t, did she? It was the father who left.”
Griffith nodded. “Those dark demons ate his soul, and it all became too much for him. He took his own life.”
“And then Jesmond Martin came along.”
“He was a man thwarted in love, and—”
“Usha Pramal. He had fallen in love with Usha Pramal,” said Maisie. “He was the newcomer to India who had made a foolish error in making known his love for her before she could ever explain to her family.”
“Ah, so you know,” said Griffith.
“I guessed it might be him,” said Maisie. “But go on.”
“After a brief courtship, he married Payton’s widow and took her son as his own. He immersed himself into being a good father to his stepson, and in an endeavor to extinguish the past—the loss of his great love—he gave the boy his name, so they were a family complete. The boy became more settled, and it seemed as if the darkness had lifted.”
“Then they came home, to England,” offered Maisie.
“Yes. I understand Jesmond’s adoption of Robert was registered soon after their arrival on British soil. In any case, we lost touch. I believe the return was in an effort to find doctors who might treat the dreadful headaches that tormented his wife. There were those who thought her former husband’s brutality might have contributed to an injury in the brain.”
“It’s entirely possible, if there were repeated concussions,” said Maisie. “In any case, it seems that by chance Usha Pramal—who had already traveled to England in a bid to forget Jesmond Martin—crossed paths with the family while she was living in St. John’s Wood.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“She and Jesmond both felt the spark that had ignited their love, and Usha left her employers, to avoid further chance meetings. But I believe it was you who unwittingly helped Martin find Usha again—rather like the prince finding his Cinderella,” said Maisie.
Griffith nodded. “We met again, at a sort of gathering for men who had worked in India during the years I happened to be there, and he came to my house here—obviously, my circumstances were very different from his at that point. He was having some difficulty with his son and called upon me for advice. He passed Usha as she was leaving after Bible study. He visited me again and said he needed someone to help with his wife, so I put forward Usha’s name.”
“Yet you knew how they had once loved each other?”
“He was a broken man, and Usha was such a light soul, and a helpful woman, I thought that their time of love had passed and that she would be a support to his ill wife.” He put his hands together in front of his lips and drew them away again. “Of course, I knew he wanted to see Usha, he wanted to have her close to him, if only in his house doing menial work.”
“But they fell in love all over again—was that it?”
Griffith sighed. “How could they not fall in love?”
“And how could Usha not fail to help his wife, and how could the son not fail to be at once in thrall to Usha and yet at the same time feel hatred of her, for what his father saw in her,” added Maisie.
“The son—Robert—came home for school holidays and occasional exeats, and it seemed that he fell under Usha’s spell—and she helped his mother, whom he loved.” Griffith pressed his hands to his eyes. “Oh dear Lord, forgive me. I was so unthinking.”
“No, you were not unthinking, but you were thinking only of the man, of Jesmond Martin.”
He nodded. “I suppose I was. I don’t know how I could not have seen the outcome.”
“And what was the outcome?” asked Maisie.
Griffith looked at her. “Oh, please, Miss Dobbs—you know very well what it was.”
“Yes, I suppose I do. Jesmond Martin had already indulged his son—his stepson—and tried to channel his energies into various outdoor sports and activities. Was it surprising that he ran away from school and came here? Though Jesmond Martin went through the motions of wanting us to find his son, he knew in his heart where he was because at some point you’d met Robert and he’d liked you. Robert Payton—Robert Martin, or ‘Martin Robertson’ was an accomplished archer, an excellent shot, and a boy who