Sir Roderick had heard far too many stories of his son’s behaviour with young women. There was the tale of a farmer’s daughter who was with child and innumerable other scandals that had reached Sir Roderick’s ears from time to time.
But finding him in Clarinda’s room had made him angry as Nicholas had never seen him angry before.
When Nicholas next returned after a six months’ absence to The Priory, he paid little attention to Clarinda except to sneer at her and tell her sarcastically that she was ‘the cuckoo in his nest’. But she was careful where possible to keep out of his sight and never to be alone with him.
Then three months ago he had come home after his father had been taken ill.
“I need money,” he pronounced roughly to Clarinda. “How much have you got hidden away?”
“I have no money,” Clarinda replied.
“I don’t want your ribbon-pennies,” Nicholas answered rudely, “you have the key to the rents and other income sales from the estate.”
“But you cannot take those!” Clarinda almost screamed at him.
He wrenched the key from her when she tried to hide it from him, emptied the strongbox and laughed when she tried to dissuade him.
“Why not run tale-telling to my father?” he jeered, knowing that she would not upset Sir Roderick when he was so ill.
The next morning, when to Clarinda’s relief Nicholas had announced he was returning to London, she found him in the library with a picture in his hand. It was a Van Dyck, which Sir Roderick had told her was very valuable and a family heirloom.
“What are you doing?” she asked before she could prevent the question.
“Helping myself to what is already mine or will be in a very short time,” he answered.
“But you cannot take it while your father is still alive,” she protested.
He looked at her with hard eyes, but his lips smiled.
“You cannot stop me!”
“No indeed, I have no right to do so,” she replied, “but you must see what you are doing is wrong, even though it will be yours one day.”
“What a little prude you are!” he exclaimed.
He put down the picture and stood looking at her.
“I think perhaps I would be wise to marry you,” he said slowly. “You can spend your time here looking after the estate, which I understand you are most competent to do and I can amuse myself in London. I am sure you would be a most conformable wife.”
“I have no desire to marry you,” Clarinda answered quickly, “that is, if you are serious in what you suggest, which I doubt.”
“I am serious,” he replied. “Yes, it is a good idea. You have been growing very attractive these last few years, Clarinda. That untouched look has a charm of its own.”
Then as he spoke his eyes narrowed and Clarinda felt a sudden awareness of evil.
She would have turned away and left the library, but he caught hold of her arm.
“A virgin,” she heard him saying almost beneath his breath as if he had just thought of it.
“Let me go,” she cried in a sudden panic.
“Afraid of me,” he asked. “Well, why not? Fear can often be a very effective stimulus to desire.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Clarinda said. “Let me go, I think your father has need of me.”
“And so have I!” Nicholas muttered, “so have I.”
He released her and she then ran from the room, but, as she went, she knew that she was more afraid of him then than she had ever been of anyone in her whole life.
Very shortly after that she became aware of rumours and scandal about Nicholas. At first she had no idea what they sprang from, but from remarks made by the servants and the fact that Sir Roderick was unusually kind to her, she knew that Nicholas had committed some crime or sin that was unforgivable.
It did not surprise her, she had always known that he was wicked and she remembered again her terror when he had come to her room and when in the library he had talked about marriage.
Perhaps all men were wicked, she thought, perhaps all men were despicable, ruthless and brutal. She hated Nicholas and she hated Lord Melburne. Were they typical of their sex, so that a woman with any decency must stay away from all men?
Even though Clarinda might reiterate it again and again that she hated Lord Melburne, nevertheless, being a woman she could not resist attempting to look her best for him as she changed for dinner.
Her choice of gowns was not that large. She had three evening dresses, but they had now been in her wardrobe for years and were those which Sir Roderick had bought her only when the gowns she had brought with her from her home were too tight to be decent.
Sir Roderick hated spending money on anything but his beloved estate, so while Clarinda longed for new clothes, she was too fond of him to plague him to spend his money when she knew that he grudged her every penny of it.
She wished now, however, that she had one really smart and fashionable gown to dazzle Lord Melburne with for she knew how elegant he would be. It was amazing that he could dress so fashionably and yet not in any way appear to be a dandy.
She had thought that Julien looked very smart, but that was before she had seen Lord Melburne. Never had she imagined a man could have coats that fitted him without a wrinkle, or cravats so meticulously tied that they seemed to adorn him by nature and not artifice.
She looked with dissatisfied eyes at the three plain gowns that she must make her choice from. Finally she chose one of pale green, which she knew would make her skin seem white and bring out the red of her hair. It was a plain little dress made by the village seamstress, but Clarinda had added some satin ribbons to it.
When she was ready, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Picking two white roses from the vase on her dressing table, she pinned them onto her dress and thought that, as she had no jewellery, they would relieve the plainness of her gown.
She had dressed more quickly than she anticipated and realised that it would be an hour before Lord Melburne would arrive to see Sir Roderick. Although she felt shy, she also felt a strange excitement at the thought of seeing him again.
He was her adversary, but there was something stimulating in pitting her wits against his.
He might even kiss her against her will, but he could not force her to tell him why she had such a dislike of him.
She knew it irritated and puzzled him not to know what she held against him and that her silence in keeping him guessing was a subtle revenge in itself.
At least life is different, not dull and uneventful, she thought as she ran down the stairs.
She decided that she would tidy the salon, as the housemaids often omitted to do, and see if Bates had thought to put out a bottle of Sir Roderick’s best brandy.
She opened the door of the salon and stood frozen by fear into stillness.
Standing on the hearthrug with another man beside him was Nicholas.
“Good evening, Clarinda,” Nicholas began.
She felt herself shrink inside at the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes, but she held her head proudly.
“Why are you here?” she managed to demand after a moment.
“I called to see you,” Nicholas replied. “Bates told me you were changing for dinner so I told him not to disturb you. You have come downstairs quicker than I anticipated.”
“We were not expecting you,” Clarinda said, feeling that to speak more openly would be disloyal in front of a stranger.
Nicholas saw her glance at the man beside him and next he said,
“Gerald, allow me to present you to my father’s niece. Sir Gerald Kegan – Miss Clarinda Vernon. Clarinda is to be my wife.”
For a moment Clarinda was speechless and then she stated, stammering a little,
“It is not t-true! Why do you say s-such ‒ things?”
“Because it just happens to be the truth,” Nicholas answered. “I have come to fetch you, Clarinda. We are to be married lat
er this evening.”
“You must be crazed,” Clarinda retorted. “You know full well I would never marry you.”
Nicholas looked at her.
“I always felt you were dangerous, Clarinda, but your scheming is of little consequence because, when you are my wife, the estate will be mine and so will you.”
Clarinda took a deep breath.
“Listen, Nicholas, I know that your father has disinherited you, leaving The Priory and the estate ‒ to me, but I assure you I don’t intend to keep it. It is yours by right and I intend to give you the greater part of what Uncle Roderick leaves me. There are certain cottages for old age pensioners and retired estate workers and a small house known as ‘Four Gables’ that I would like to keep. The rest is yours.”
Nicholas twisted his lips.
“You are very accommodating when you are cornered, Clarinda, but I can assure you my way is the best. There will be no arguments then about who gives the orders.”
“Do you really think I will agree to marry you?” Clarinda asked and now the loathing she had for him was evident in her voice.
“I think later you will be grateful to me,” Nicholas said and there was something sinister in the way he spoke. “What do you think, Gerald?”
Clarinda looked quickly at the man beside him as if she could expect some help from that quarter.
Sir Gerald Kegan was a man of about forty and she thought that she had never seen a more debauched face. There were lines under his eyes and a look that told her, inexperienced and innocent though she was, that here was a man steeped in vice and degradation.
She would have no help from him, she was sure of it.
“Miss Vernon will make a very lovely – wife,” Sir Gerald said in answer to Nicholas’s question. He paused before uttering the word wife as if he was thinking of something else.
“Fetch your cloak, Clarinda,” Nicholas ordered, “my carriage is waiting outside.”
“I am not coming with you,” she said, making a movement as if she would retreat, but Nicholas took hold of her arm.
“Now listen, Clarinda, you are coming with me to the caves. I expect you have heard about them.”
He felt her stiffen and saw the sudden horror in her eyes.
“When our meeting there this evening is finished, I intend to make you my wife,” he continued. “Most young women who are initiated into the mysteries of our Society are not so fortunate as to receive an offer of marriage. But you are an exception because, of course, you are my father’s heiress.”
“What are you saying to me?” Clarinda asked him in a low frightened voice. “Let me go, Nicholas, you cannot mean this!”
“But I do mean it,” he answered. “No one is going to take my birthright from me. No, Clarinda, I am not such a fool as you and my father apparently imagine. Now come quietly, or if you prefer it I will drug you. I think you would find it impossible to struggle when I have poured this down your white throat.”
He pointed to a small bottle that Sir Gerald Kegan had just drawn from his pocket. It was a black bottle such as chemists frequently used for poison.
Clarinda gave a little cry of horror.
“Yours is the choice,” he sneered.
Clarinda then felt a sense of utter helplessness. This could not be true! It could not be happening to her.
Who would help her?
She remembered that Lord Melburne was coming to dinner, but she would have been taken away by Nicholas before he arrived.
“Choose,” Nicholas said sharply as she did not answer. “Will you come willingly or do I render you insensible?”
“I will – not be – drugged,” Clarinda faltered, “I will come – with – you.”
“I thought you would,” he said with an unpleasant smile of triumph on his face.
He took his hand from her arm and Clarinda looked round wildly for a means of escape.
Nicholas’s lips jeered as he said,
“I was once a good runner, even though I am out of practice. And if you scream for help, who will come to your aid but old Bates, whom I could overcome with no effort or perhaps a giggling housemaid whom I omitted to seduce on my last visit here?”
Clarinda felt like screaming, but some inner pride would not allow her to give Nicholas the satisfaction of seeing her lose control of herself.
“I have told you – I will come with – you,” she said, “I will not attempt to – run away.”
“Come then,” Nicholas ordered her.
With a mocking gesture he then offered her his arm. She took it feeling like the French aristocrats must have felt when they went to the guillotine.
As they reached the door of the salon, Nicholas suggested,
“You can send for your cape. I cannot allow you to go and get it yourself in case you have any foolish ideas of escape.”
They went into the hall. Bates was standing by the front door and Clarinda saw the worry and anxiety in his old face. She was about to speak to him, when she saw Betty, her maid, who had come with her to The Priory, hovering at the top of the stairs.
Clarinda raised her voice.
“Betty,” she said, “please bring me my cape from my bedroom, you know, the one with the hood.”
“Very good, Miss Clarinda,” Betty answered.
There was a tremor in her voice and Clarinda realised that, because Nicholas had been forbidden to come to The Priory, they knew that his presence was an outrage against their Master’s wishes.
Betty came hurrying back with the cloak to where Clarinda was waiting with Nicholas and Sir Gerald, who were standing on either side of her. She turned her back on Betty, who placed the cloak over her shoulders and then quickly she turned round to say,
“My roses have come undone, fasten them securely for me.”
Just for a moment she had her back to Nicholas and in a whisper, so that only Betty could hear her, she said,
“Tell his Lordship, the caves.”
Then she turned, pulling her cloak around her and holding her head high she walked over the hall and out to the coach that was waiting outside. She felt numb, everything was unreal as in a distorted dream.
It was a large and luxurious carriage, she noticed with some detached part of her brain. The back seat was wide and the two men sat on either side of her, Nicholas on her right and Sir Gerald on her left.
She felt that she was a prisoner and they were her warders. She knew too that Sir Gerald deliberately sat as close as possible, his knee against hers. She felt revolted by him and again was conscious of a terrifying evil emanating from both men.
“I must congratulate you,” Nicholas said as the horses started up, “on an admirable show of self-control, my dear Clarinda. I am surprised at your restraint.”
“So am I,” Sir Gerald agreed.
He put out his hand as he spoke and, taking Clarinda by the chin, turned her face round to his.
“She is lovely, very lovely,” he said. “It’s a pity, Nicholas, that I cannot be the first. You would not like, I suppose, to relinquish your authority as Master and give me the privilege of initiating this attractive creature into the delights of love.”
Clarinda tried to twist her chin away from him, but he was too strong for her.
“Clarinda is to become my wife,” Nicholas replied.
Sir Gerald glanced towards him.
“You might well change your tune by the time the night is over,” he said. “Remember what happened to the last one when the others had finished with her.”
“Clarinda will be my wife,” Nicholas repeated.
“But at the moment she is unspoiled, entrancing and desirable,” Sir Gerald murmured.
He bent his head towards Clarinda, his fingers still holding her captive. She realised that he was about to kiss her and with a quick movement of her body shrank away in terror from his thick lips, his coarse face and the glitter of lust in his eyes.
“Leave her alone!” Nicholas said sharply. “She is dedicated. She is the fir
st one who we can be sure is pure and untouched. Tonight, He will come to us, I am convinced of it.”
Reluctantly Sir Gerald set Clarinda free. She did not understand what they were saying and yet she knew that every word was impregnated with evil.
She wanted to scream out and scream again.
The numbness that seemed to have fallen on her like a cloud as she entered the coach was giving way to a horror that was terrifying her to the point when she knew her self-control might snap at any moment.
Only the knowledge that Nicholas would not hesitate to pour the obnoxious liquid down her throat made her keep still and silent.
The only hope of escape, she told herself desperately, was for her to keep her senses. There was just a chance that Lord Melburne might save her. How he would do it she did not know, but she found a strange comfort in thinking of his strength, of that firm squareness of his chin and the determination of his mouth.
She had seen him deal effectively with the bullying tenant who Nicholas had sent to The Priory and she felt that he would also be able to deal with Nicholas. Besides she had always been told it was impossible for anyone to better Lord Melburne in any activity. Had not his prowess at shooting, boxing and riding been a continual spur to her hatred of him because he was invariably so successful?
They drove relentlessly along the highway and she tried to remember all she had heard of the Hell Fire Clubs, but for the moment her memory seemed blank.
Then she realised that to enter a Club one must be a member. So just how would it be possible for Lord Melburne to rescue her if he could not effect an entrance?
With a sinking of her heart she felt that even if he had the support of the local people, it would be too late as far as she was concerned. She was both innocent and ignorant, but she had a vague idea why people spoke with bated breath about the orgies that took place in such Clubs.
Betty had told her that Simple Sarah had a child which had been fathered by Nicholas, a child that later had been stolen and, it was believed, had died in the caves. Clarinda had been shocked and she had not wanted to hear anymore.
But now she wished she had listened. Perhaps it would be better to be prepared for what lay ahead than just to trying to guess what horrors were waiting for her in the dark place.
The Irresistible Buck Page 7