Haunted

by Barbara Cartland

  “Very well, I will take you!” Charles smiled, “It is worth risking a fiver to prove you wrong for a change. If you want the truth, I am fed up with your infallibility.”

  Now the Marquis laughed and it was a spontaneous sound.

  As he did so, the door opened and a footman announced,

  “The lady to see you, my Lord!”

  She came into the room and to the Marquis’s surprise she was very young and very pretty.

  His experienced eye told him that her riding habit was slightly old-fashioned and well worn.

  At the same time it seemed to enhance the freshness of her face, the translucence of her skin and the gold of her hair.

  As she advanced towards him, he was aware that hers was not the conventional prettiness that was described as ‘an English rose’ and greatly admired in London.

  There was something far more subtle about her, almost, he thought to himself, as if she was one of the Goddesses who had stepped down from her niche in the hall.

  Walking beside her came a young boy of perhaps ten or eleven years old.

  He too was very good-looking with classical features and there was a resemblance to the girl that told the Marquis that they were undoubtedly brother and sister.

  “Good afternoon!” he said as the newcomers reached where he was standing in front of the fireplace. “I am the Marquis of Heroncourt, as I expect you know, but you did not give your name to my servants.”

  “I did not give it, my Lord,” the girl answered in a soft musical voice, “because it has been impossible for my grandfather to call on you. But we are in fact neighbours and I am Mimosa Field.”

  There was a pause while the Marquis thought before he asked,

  “Your grandfather is the Earl of Petersfield?”

  “My grandfather is dead, my Lord.”

  “I am sorry. I was not aware of that.”

  “There is no reason why you should be except that we live in the same County. My grandfather has been ill for some years, which is why we have been unable to entertain or welcome you back from the war.”

  “Will you sit down,” the Marquis invited, “and tell me how I can help you? But let me first introduce my friend, Major Charles Toddington.”

  Charles Toddington bowed and Mimosa dropped him a small curtsey before she said, putting a hand on the shoulder of the boy who stood beside her,

  “This is my brother James, who is now the fourth Earl on my grandfather’s death.”

  She spoke the last words as if there was a special meaning in them.

  Then she seated herself in the armchair that the Marquis indicated to her. while her brother took the chair next to hers.

  The Marquis was aware that he was looking at him with admiration and expected that the young boy had heard of his horses and was hoping before he had to go that he would have a chance of seeing his stables.

  “Now, what can I do for you, Lady Mimosa?” the Marquis asked as Charles also seated himself, leaving him the only one standing.

  There was a minute’s silence, as if she was feeling for words, then she said in a hesitating little voice,

  “You may think it very – strange that I have – come to you, my Lord, when we are not acquainted – and I should have sought the help and advice of other people – in the County – whom I have known since a child, but I had a feeling that they – would not understand.”

  “Let me promise you that I am delighted to be of assistance, if it is at all possible,” the Marquis said.

  “I feel that for you it is possible,” Lady Mimosa answered, “because you have – been in the war and have been in danger – and you will understand while other people would not.”

  The Marquis looked puzzled.

  “I think you must explain what I am to understand,” he suggested.

  He smiled at her in a way that most women found irresistible, knowing that she was both shy and nervous, and wondering what on earth she could want of him.

  He remembered, now he thought about it, that the Earl of Petersfield’s estate, which was not a very large one, lay to the North of his own.

  Unless he was mistaken, his father had always said that the Earl farmed his land badly because he had stuck to old methods and the old ideas and was not interested in moving with the times.

  Nevertheless most farms had been profitable during the war and the Marquis thought it was unlikely that the Earl had not managed, as every other landlord had, to produce the food that was so urgently needed.

  It was very different now with cheap supplies flooding in from the Continent and the farmers were finding it difficult to make ends meet.

  However, he could not imagine that this was the subject Lady Mimosa had come to see him about and once again, as if he felt that she should be more positive, he said,

  “Please explain to me, Lady Mimosa, exactly what it is you require me to do.”

  She looked down and he realised that her eyelashes were very long against the paleness of her skin.

  Then she said,

  “I am so afraid that you will – laugh at me and say – I am being hysterical – when I tell you – why I have come to you. It is – only because I am desperate that I – ventured to do so.”

  There was a note, the Marquis thought, of fear in her voice and, because he wanted to set her at ease, he enquired,

  “Before we go any further, may I offer you a little refreshment? A glass of wine, some champagne, if you like. And I am sure your brother would enjoy some lemonade.”

  There was no mistaking the eager way in which the young boy’s eyes responded to the suggestion and the Marquis walked to the grog tray in the corner of the room.

  He poured out a tumbler of lemonade and, without waiting for Lady Mimosa to reply, poured half a glass of champagne from a bottle that had already been opened.

  He carried the drinks back to where Lady Mimosa sat very still, her eyes watching him and he knew without being told that she was apprehensive of what his reaction might be to what she had to was to tell him.

  Because she was behaving so strangely, he began to feel curious as to what she could possibly have to say and, as he put the glass of champagne into her hand, he said,

  “Drink this. I have a feeling that because you have decided to come here and see me you did not eat very much luncheon before you left.”

  Her eyelids fluttered and a little colour came into her cheeks as she answered,

  “That is – true – but I do not – know how you can be – aware of it.”

  “I also realise,” the Marquis said quietly, “that you are very worried about something and, as I have already said, I am prepared to help you if it is humanly possible. I cannot believe that any problem cannot be solved, if one is intelligent about it.”

  “That is what I have – tried to be,” Lady Mimosa said, “but I am so afraid that when I tell you why I have come, you will think I am just – hysterical and fancying things that are – definitely untrue.”

  As she spoke, the Marquis realised that the hand she was holding the glass of champagne with was trembling.

  He glanced at Charles before he said,

  “My friend, Major Toddington, will tell you that I had the reputation when I was serving under Wellington of being perceptive as to whether things were true or false.”

  He paused before he added,

  “As you can imagine, in war we had to deal with thousands of rumours and dubious information and I was often confronted by lies designed simply to confuse us.”

  He smiled before he went on.

  “I am not boasting when I tell you that quite often when these things happened, the Duke of Wellington would send for me to ask me if I trusted the informant and if I believed that the information was accurate. Often I had to take a chance or rather be brave enough to convince those older and in many ways more experienced than myself that what they were listening to was just fanciful.”

  As he finished speaking, Lady Mimosa drew in her breath and he t
hought that he had reassured her.

  Then she said,

  “I swear to you that what I am saying is not – a fancy. I believe it to be – completely and absolutely the – truth when I tell you that my brother is in – danger of being – murdered!”

  Both the Marquis and Charles Toddington stared at her in astonishment.

  “Murdered?” the Marquis asked after a moment’s silence. “What do you mean by that?”

  “It seems so – terrible when I think of the – word,” Lady Mimosa said unhappily, “but there is a man who would – benefit by his death, who would inherit the title he now holds, and whose only way of becoming the fifth Earl in succession to my grandfather is for Jimmy – to die.”

  Her voice broke on the last words and her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at the Marquis to say piteously,

  “Please – please – will you save him? I cannot – think of anyone except you – who could – help us.”

  The Marquis sat down in an armchair beside Lady Mimosa and said quietly,

  “Now suppose you start at the very beginning and tell me exactly what is happening and why you suspect that your brother’s life is in danger?”

  Lady Mimosa drew in her breath as if to force herself to be calm, but her hands were shaking as she set the hardly touched glass of champagne down on a small table beside her chair.

  Then, clasping her fingers together, she began,

  “My grandfather had a nephew, Norton Field, who is my father’s first cousin and – has always coveted the house and the title. Since my grandfather had only one son, Norton Field is now heir presumptive to my – brother.”

  The Marquis was listening intently as Lady Mimosa went on,

  “For some reason Cousin Norton did not go to the War and, after he left Oxford University, in a very short time he ran up such large debts in London that his father begged Grandpapa to pay them, saying that he could not afford to do so.”

  “And your grandfather paid?” the Marquis asked.

  “He was very angry at having to do so, saying that Norton had no right to be so extravagant and pointing out that his money was needed to keep up the family house and estates, which would eventually go to Jimmy.”

  “Did you see much of your cousin?” the Marquis enquired.

  “He only came near us when he wanted money from Grandpapa, who after a time refused to give him any more. Then one night there was a burglary at the house and, although I am unable to prove it, I feel certain that it was Cousin Norton who had stolen some of the silver and one or two small pictures. All of it we learned later was sold, but the culprit was never found.”

  She paused and, because he was interested, the Marquis said urgently,

  “Go on!”

  “Then, when Grandpapa died quite recently, Cousin Norton, whom I had not seen for a long time, came to the funeral. Afterwards I found him ferreting around the house and inspecting some of the more valuable pieces, almost as if he was appraising them.

  ‘Everybody has left, Cousin Norton,’ I said, ‘and, as I am very tired – you will understand that I wish to retire to bed.’

  “‘So you want me to leave, you want to turn me out as my uncle did?’ he replied. ‘But one day I intend to live here. It is ridiculous to expect a child of James’s age to look after everything and be the Head of such an illustrious family as ours!’

  ‘Jimmy is young, but he will grow older,’ I said, ‘and – Grandpapa always thought that he had the right ideas and would follow very ably in his footsteps.’

  ‘Grandfather talked a lot of nonsense!’ Cousin Norton said rudely. ‘The Earl of Petersfield should be a man of at least my age, a man of the world, a man who knows how to keep up the dignity of an ancient family and take his place at Court!’”

  Mimosa gave a little shiver as she continued,

  “There was something – unpleasant in the way he spoke – something that made me suspect that he wished to be rid of Jimmy and would not hesitate – if he had the chance to do so!”

  “I can understand you feeling like that,” the Marquis said soothingly, “but is there any proof that he has any real criminal intent towards the boy?”

  Lady Mimosa was silent, almost as if, the Marquis thought, she was praying that she could make him understand.

  Then she said,

  “Cousin Norton went away – and since he has gone some very strange things have happened.”

  “What sort of things?” the Marquis asked sharply.

  “First a great stone crashed from the roof, just missing Jimmy – as he was going out to ride a horse that was waiting for him. There was no reason – why it should suddenly have become dislodged from its position.”

  “It missed me by only a few inches!” Jimmy said unexpectedly. “If I had not turned back because I had dropped my whip, it would have hit me on the head and killed me!”

  Lady Mimosa made a sound that was almost a sob and put out her hand as if to protect her brother and then replaced it in her lap before she carried on,

  “Jimmy and I always ride the same way through a wood to a piece of open and level ground where we can gallop our horses. It is usually Jimmy who rides ahead – but yesterday morning he overslept and came down to breakfast just as I finished.

  ‘There is no hurry,’ I said. ‘I will ride on slowly and you can catch me up. But promise me you will finish your breakfast.’”

  “He promised and I went out and mounted my horse which was restless and rode him slowly through the Park into the wood.

  “I was riding along not thinking of anything except the sun coming through the leaves – and how beautiful everything looked, when I saw a rabbit running ahead of me down the path which at that point was quite level.

  “Then suddenly to my astonishment – I saw it spring high into the air almost like a dog rather than a rabbit!

  “It was so strange that I drew in my horse to see why it should have jumped in that strange manner and saw that the ground was broken – at that particular place.”

  She made a sound like a groan before she exclaimed,

  “By the mercy of God I was curious enough to dismount and walk ahead to look and see what had happened.”

  Her eyes were wide and frightened as she said,

  “It was a man-trap, which had recently been laid deep into the path. If Jimmy had ridden up to it quickly, as he would normally have done, being in a hurry to reach the ground where we could gallop – his horse would have been caught in the trap and would have flung him, which might quite easily have – broken his neck!”

  She paused before she added,

  “It was then, when I was so frightened, I decided – I must have help. Then last night something woke me.”

  “What was it?” the Marquis enquired.

  “It was a very faint noise, but because it was different from the squeak of a bat or the bark of a fox in the woods I woke up.”

  “What happened?” the Marquis asked.

  “I heard somebody entering the house on the ground floor. It was dark outside and there was no moon, but the stars were very bright and, when I leant out of the window, I could see a man – just the outline of him – climbing in through a window he had managed to unlatch. I was terrified as to who he might be and why he was in the house.

  “There was no one – I could alert. The servants are all quite old and sleep in a different part of the house from Jimmy and me.”

  “So what did you do?” the Marquis asked.

  “I crept to Jimmy’s room, entered it and locked myself in. He was sound asleep and did not stir. I waited by the locked door as somebody came along the passage outside very very quietly – making so little sound that they would never have been heard by anyone who was asleep.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I saw the handle of Jimmy’s door turn, but I had locked it and, whoever it was, realised that it would not open – and went away!”

  Lady Mimosa finished speaking.

  Then,
with a little gesture of her hands that was very appealing and at the same time pathetic, she pleaded in a voice vibrant with fear,

  “Help me – please help me – I don’t know what to – d-do.”

  Chapter Two

  While Lady Mimosa was speaking, the Marquis was staring at her as if he could hardly credit that what she was saying was the truth.

  Then, as she finished her appeal for help, it was as if his mind leapt into action and he took over command of the situation.

  Watching him, Charles Toddington thought with a smile that the Marquis had certainly lost his bet and, what was more, he was back in form, just as he had been in the war when some particular movement of the enemy gave them a new challenge and a fresh awareness of danger.

  “Tell me about your cousin,” the Marquis asked her quietly. “Who is he and what is he like?”

  “As I said, a first cousin of my father,” Mimosa replied, “who was killed seven years ago in the Peninsula – and Norton is a year younger than he was.”

  Vaguely the Marquis remembered hearing that a neighbour of his, the Viscount Field, only son of the Earl of Petersfield, had been killed in action.

  “What Regiment was your father in?” he asked.

  “The Grenadiers,” Mimosa answered, “and we were told that he fought very gallantly at the Battle of Torres Vedras.”

  “I am very sorry that you lost him,” the Marquis said.

  “My mother never really recovered from it,” Mimosa replied. “She gave up our home, which was on the estate – and we went to live in the big house with Grandpapa. But Mama was never the same and three years ago she died. I am – convinced that it was from a – broken heart.”

  The way Mimosa spoke was very moving and for a moment there was silence.

  Then the Marquis said gently,

  “You were telling me about your cousin.”

  “Yes – of course. As I have already told you, he did not go to war, but spent his time in London and I think Grandpapa was ashamed of him, besides resenting the way he was always badgering him for money.”