Carolyn smiled.
“I think Timothy will say that. Oh, Amalita, I am so lucky to have found somebody so wonderful and Timothy and I want to be married very soon.”
She paused before she went on,
“Is it not so fortunate that the Marquis has said he will give the Reception here? You know that we could never get all those people into our house.”
The way she spoke made Amalita feel worried.
She was wondering when and just how she could ever explain it to Timothy’s father and mother that she was in fact Carolyn’s sister.
That would mean telling the Marquis and, of course, the Earl as well.
She felt herself quiver at the thought of how sarcastic he would be about it.
“You have not told Timothy the truth?” she asked her sister hastily.
“Not yet,” Carolyn replied. “I felt that I should ask you first, but after that I do not want to have any secrets from him in the future.”
“No, of course not,” Amalita agreed. “Just give me time to think out what we should do.”
She felt despairingly that once Carolyn was married, she herself would have to go back to the country.
She would be alone in the house which had once been full of love and laughter.
It would be impossible for her to remain in London, either as Lady Maulpin or as herself,
‘What shall I do?’ she asked herself frantically.
Then she thought that it was one of those problems that would have to be solved later rather than sooner.
What was important now was that Carolyn was to be married.
‘Whatever happens in the future,’ she told herself, ‘I must do nothing that would spoil her happiness.’
Carolyn then went off in a hurry to be with Timothy, kissing Amalita affectionately before she did so.
“And how are you planning to travel to Wimbledon?” Amalita managed to ask just before she left.
“Timothy came here in his father’s carriage,” Carolyn answered, “which, of course, is now back at Wimbledon. So today he is borrowing a chaise from the Marquis and driving it himself.”
It flashed through Amalita’s mind that she ought to be chaperoned. Then she thought that, as Carolyn was now engaged, it was unnecessary and it would be very stupid to suggest it.
“Tell him to drive carefully,” she said instead.
“He will,” Carolyn replied gaily and was gone.
Amalita got up slowly, thinking it strange that she had nothing to do.
Shopping was finished, except that very soon Carolyn would want some more gowns for her trousseau.
The party was over and so the household would now have to find something new to talk about.
For the past two days the Marquis had been explaining to her which of the people invited to the party had been friends of Sir Frederick.
She went downstairs to find that he was in his study.
“I am glad that you have joined me, Lady Maulpin,” he said, “because I do want to talk to you about the young people. I think we must find them somewhere pleasant to live when they come back from their honeymoon.”
Amalita looked at him questioningly and he said with a smile,
“I expect you have been told that Timothy is eager to go around the world painting pictures of places he thinks are beautiful and which will eventually appear in a book.”
“Yes, Carolyn did tell me,” Amalita agreed.
“It is what they intend to do,” the Marquis carried on, “and I think it a good idea. It is always wise to travel when one is young and before one is tied down with too many babies.”
Amalita laughed.
“I find it hard to take all this in,” she said. “Last night Carolyn was a debutante appearing in the Social world for the very first time. Now you are talking about her being the mother of a number of children.”
“These young move far too fast for me,” the Marquis complained. “So now, Lady Maulpin, we are left with the problem of David and that terrible woman!”
Amalita sat down in a comfortable chair.
“I am so relieved that she did not come to your party last night,” she said.
“So was I,” the Marquis nodded. “I thought that David might try and persuade me to invite her, but to my relief he never mentioned it.”
“Perhaps he has tired of her,” Amalita suggested.
She did not really believe it, but thought that it would cheer up the Marquis.
He was such a kindly man and she could not bear to think of him worrying so over his son and so being made unhappy as the Earl was so involved with Lady Hermione.
The Marquis went to stand in front of the mantelpiece.
“I suppose it was stupid of me to think that David might marry anyone as young as your stepdaughter,” he said. “At the same time she is so beautiful that I thought that he would not fail to be captivated by her.”
“I don’t want to be unkind,” Amalita said, “but I think Carolyn will be far happier with Timothy, with whom she is in love and who is such a kind and gentle person.”
“You are right, of course, you are right,” the Marquis said. “It was foolish of me to have had any other ideas.”
He sighed and then changed the subject.
“Now let’s talk about you. You must tell me what you intend to do once Carolyn is married.”
Amalita felt that this was rather dangerous ground so she merely said,
“I think for the moment I must concentrate on Carolyn and not worry about myself. There will be plenty of time to make decisions after we have bought her trousseau and you have been kind enough to give the Reception for her.”
“She is pleased at what I suggested,” the Marquis said, “and, of course, as Timothy is my nephew, I want to make them both happy.”
“Just as you have made so many other people happy,” Amalita said softly.
They talked until luncheontime and then had the meal alone together.
Afterwards Amalita thought that, as the Marquis was busy, she might as well lie down.
She went up to her bedroom and almost immediately fell asleep.
She slept peacefully until it was teatime.
Then she went downstairs to join the Marquis.
“I have been very busy,” he said, “making lists of the people to be invited to the Wedding and planning a series of dinner parties so that Carolyn will be able to meet my relations.”
He chuckled before he added,
“I am afraid that there are a great number of them and they will all be intensely curious about the girl my nephew is to marry.”
“I do hope that they will not scare Carolyn,” Amalita pointed out.
They talked about the Wedding until it was time to go up and change for dinner.
As Amalita had her bath, she was thinking it strange that she had not seen the Earl all day.
He was very likely playing polo and the Marquis had not said that he was expected back for dinner.
She thought it a very good thing that she was there.
Otherwise the Marquis would be alone with nobody to talk to. He was so kind and always thinking of others, she told herself.
She put on one of her prettiest gowns and then went downstairs.
There was still no sign of the Earl and, when she had joined the Marquis, she said,
“I expected the Earl to be dining with us tonight.”
“David sent me a message earlier today to say that he had a number of engagements and that I was not to wait for him.”
As if he thought that Amalita was looking critical, he added,
“He always lets me know whether he will be in or out and anyway this afternoon he was playing polo again.”
Amalita knew then that she had been right in thinking that was what he was doing.
She would, however, have liked to discuss with him the party that had taken place last night.
Then she told herself that he was doubtless spending his time with Lady Hermione
.
In a strange way it made her feel sad.
It also gave her another strong feeling that she did not understand or recognise.
When dinner was finished, she and the Marquis went into a small sitting room on the ground floor.
It was cosier than the large drawing room and it was a very attractive room, and had long French windows which overlooked the garden.
It was very warm and the Marquis stood looking out at the fountain throwing its water high up into the sky.
The stars were just coming out and a full moon was emerging from behind a cloud.
“I think you possess the most romantic garden anyone in London could have,” Amalita exclaimed.
“I often think that myself,” the Marquis replied, ‘“but, alas, my dear, I am too old to be romantic except in my dreams.”
“I am sure that is not true,” Amalita said. “Anyway, you have plenty of exciting times to look back on.”
“Of course I have,” the Marquis agreed.
They walked back into the sitting room.
Then, just as they were once again looking at the list of Garle relations who were to be invited to meet Carolyn, the door opened.
Amalita looked up, thinking that it must be the Earl.
To her astonishment Lady Hermione then came into the room.
She was wearing a fantastic black gown trimmed with white and on her head she wore a black hat adorned with white feathers.
Amalita and the Marquis stared at her as she walked towards them.
“I have just learned, my Lord,” she began in a quiet voice, “that my poor husband is worse and I am, therefore, taking your advice and leaving at once to be with him in the country.”
“I am sure that is very sensible,” the Marquis said as he rose to his feet.
“I have thought before I left,” Lady Hermione went on, “that I should bring you a present to thank you for the delightful dinner I had with you the other evening. I have been very remiss in not writing to thank you.”
She smiled beguilingly before she went on,
“Instead I have brought you a bottle of Lionel’s most prized vintage port. I believe that there is very little left of it and I know that, because he has always admired you so much, he would like you to have this bottle.”
She held out the bottle as she spoke and the Marquis took it from her.
“That is most kind of you,” he said politely.
“You must promise me to drink it all yourself,” Lady Hermione said. “My husband has always claimed that it is too good for young men who have not the experience to appreciate a really magnificent wine.”
The Marquis looked at the bottle and then he said,
‘Thank you very much. I know I shall enjoy it.”
“David has told me how much you enjoy port,” Lady Hermione said, “and thank you very much again for the other evening.”
She held out her hand.
Then, after the Marquis shook it, she turned towards the door.
She ignored Amalita pointedly and rudely.
The Marquis put the bottle of port on a side table and hurried to escort Lady Hermione to her carriage.
When they had left the room, Amalita looked at the bottle of port curiously.
Then she became instinctively aware that there was something wrong.
She could not even explain exactly what she was now feeling even to herself.
Unmistakably she knew that Lady Hermione had an ulterior motive in giving the Marquis a gift and it was not as generous as it appeared to be on the surface.
The Marquis came back into the room.
“That was a surprise,” he said. “I have never before known that woman do a generous action nor has she ever written to thank me for any hospitality she has received in this house.”
He picked up the bottle of port.
“This is most certainly a rare vintage,” he went on. “I do remember now that Buckworth has always been a great connoisseur of wine.”
He smiled at Amalita before he added,
“I think that you and I will sample it together.”
“No, no!” Amalita exclaimed. “You must not drink it! I know there is – something wrong – with it!”
The Marquis stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
“You may think I am – being very – foolish,” Amalita exclaimed, “but I know instinctively when – something is wrong or someone is – going to be hurt. So I feel sure that if you do – drink this wine it will – in some way hurt you, even kill you.”
The Marquis looked at her in sheer amazement,
Then he responded,
“I think, my dear, you are exaggerating what we might call Lady Hermione’s wickedness. I have always thought her a bad woman, but I don’t believe for one moment that she would be prepared to murder me.”
“I am not quite so – sure,” Amalita said, “so please – please don’t drink that – wine. Throw it – away and just forget – it!”
“Can you really be asking me to do anything quite so extravagant and so unnecessary?” the Marquis asked. “I don’t mind telling you, this wine is so rare and so precious that I have tasted it only once before in my life!”
He laughed before he went on,
“In fact I would consider it a great sacrilege to destroy anything so unique.”
“Please, I beg of you, do not – drink it and I promise you I am not – talking – nonsense,” Amalita asserted.
She saw that the Marquis was not convinced and she added,
“Once when I was very small I was aware that my Nanny was in danger. I screamed and screamed until my father went to find her. He was just in time to prevent her from being gored by a bull that was in the field where I had been riding my pony.”
Realising that the Marquis was listening, she went on,
“On another occasion one of my father’s friends had borrowed a horse from him to go out hunting. As he went down the drive, I said to Papa,
“‘Please, Papa, do not let him go – do not let him – ride that horse. I know it will – hurt him.’
“And what happened?” the Marquis asked.
“Papa thought that I was just being imaginative, but the man in question was thrown by the horse and – broke his – spine.”
There was silence.
“You are being most persuasive,” the Marquis said. “However I do find it hard to believe that Lady Hermione would stoop to anything so drastic as murder.”
“What can I say to – convince you that you are in – danger?” Amalita asked him desperately.
To her surprise the Marquis rose and went out through the open French windows.
It was then she became aware that there was a man in the garden and, as the Marquis spoke to him, she saw that it was one of the gardeners, who had come to turn off the fountain at night and turn it on again in the morning.
“Good evening, Sam,” the Marquis greeted him.
“’Evenin’, my Lord,” Sam said and touched his cap.
“I was just wondering if you have caught any mice in the traps you have set for them?” the Marquis asked.
“I ain’t got a mouse, my Lord,” Sam replied, “but I just looked in and sees a fat young rat and we don’t want them gettin’ into the house, my Lord, does we?”
“We certainly don’t, Sam,” the Marquis said. “And I would like you to bring the rat to me.”
“Bring it to you, my Lord?” Sam asked in surprise. “I were about to drown ’e, I was, and set the trap again, ’case there’s more of ’em breeding in the garden.”
“Do that,” the Marquis said, “but first bring the rat to me and also the bait you used to catch him.”
“Right, my Lord.”
Sam hurried away to a hut by the garden door leading into the Mews.
A few minutes later he came back carrying a strange wooden contraption that he had made himself.
He handed it to the Marquis and with it a paper bag.
/> “There be enough meat in there for at least two days, my Lord,” he said.
“Thank you, Sam.” The Marquis smiled. “You need not wait. I will put your trap outside the door when I go up to bed.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” Sam replied, “and be careful of that there rat. They bites somethin’ terrible!”
“I am sure they do,” the Marquis grinned.
Sam touched his cap and ambled away.
The Marquis carried the trap into the sitting room.
He put it down on one of the tables and Amalita saw it contained a large rat.
She felt herself shudder because she had always had a horror of vermin.
The Marquis opened up the paper bag and it contained the two large pieces of fresh meat. He put it down on the table and fetched a glass from the grog tray in a corner of the room.
Amalita watched him without speaking, knowing what he was going to do.
If she was mistaken in what she felt about the port, she would feel very stupid and childish.
The Marquis drew the cork from the bottle and poured a little of the port into the glass.
It was the usual dark red of vintage port and Amalita thought it looked really impossible that anyone could have tampered with it.
She was, however, still totally convinced in her own mind that there was something wrong.
The Marquis slipped a piece of the meat into the glass of port and it was very soon soaked with it apart from the corner he was holding.
Lifting it out of the glass, he put the untouched piece of meat on top of it.
The trap was made of wood and wire and there was a door, which opened at the back of it.
The rat was looking at the lit room curiously as if he thought it was new territory to explore.
Quickly the Marquis then inserted the meat through the door at the back and closed it.
Instantly the rat was aware that there was food nearby and started to turn round.
It was not easy because the trap was narrow.
However, he managed it and gulped down the meat greedily.
Now the Marquis and Amalita were watching tensely.
Neither of them moved.
Having eaten the fresh meat, the rat then sniffed at the piece beneath it.
Tentatively he took a bite as Amalita held her breath.
If he refused to go any further, the experiment would prove negative and the Marquis would tell her once again to stop being foolish.
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