She was unwilling, but I dragged her to the east door. As I opened it I could distinctly hear the sound of a violin.
“Come on,” I said, and we started up the stairs. The violin had stopped playing, but we went on to Barbarina’s room; I threw open the door. The violin was lying on the chair; the music was still on the stand. The room was just as it had been when I had last seen it.
I looked at Hyson, but she lowered her eyes and was staring at the floor.
I was more frightened than I had ever been, because never before had I felt so utterly alone. First I had had my parents to care for me; then—as I thought—a husband; finally a grandfather.
I had lost them all, for now I could no longer rely on Roc to protect me from the danger which I felt was close.
SIX
Roc left for his weekend trip.
Before he went he said to me, when we were in the bedroom together: “I don’t like this at all, Favel. We’ve got to get it sorted out. I wish you hadn’t gone snooping. It’s all at such an unfortunate time.”
He was almost his old self and I immediately swung round to meet him halfway. Eagerly I waited for what he would say next.
“There’s a simple explanation to all this,” he said. “But I can’t tell you yet. Will you wait awhile and trust me?”
“But Roc …”
“All right,” he said. “You can’t. But this isn’t going on. I’ll think about it while I’m away; but promise me this: You won’t think too badly of me, will you? I’m really not quite such a scoundrel as you believe I am.”
“Oh Roc,” I said, “it’s all so unnecessary. There was no need to tell me lies. I just wish you hadn’t.”
“And you can’t trust someone who has once lied, can you?”
He looked at me wistfully and I had the impression that he was trying to charm me as he had so many times before.
“Roc, tell me about it,” I pleaded. “Tell me now. Then we can start being happy again.”
He hesitated. “Not now, Favel.”
“But why not now?”
“It isn’t only my affair. I’ve got to discuss it with someone else.”
“Oh, I see.”
“But you don’t see. Listen, Favel. I love you. And you’ve got to love me too. You’ve got to trust me. Damn it, can’t you have a little faith in me?”
I couldn’t make myself say yes.
“All right.” He put his hands on my shoulders and gave me a swift kiss on the lips with nothing warm or passionate about it. “See you Monday or Tuesday.”
Then he was gone, leaving me as baffled and unhappy as before—or almost.
But the fact that he was away did give me an opportunity to think; and several little incidents from the past kept recurring to me. I had been in danger of losing my life on two occasions since coming to Pendorric; which was strange because it was within a very short time, and it was something which had never happened to me before in the whole of my life. I was thinking of that time when someone had removed the danger signal on the cliffs. But then it had been Roc who had saved me. At that time I had not known I was Lord Polhorgan’s granddaughter. But Roc had, and if I had died then, Roc would have inherited nothing.
A horrible thought came to me. Was it meant to shift suspicion? Was the idea that, when later I had a fatal accident, people would remember how Roc had saved me then? No, that was a hideous thought. I was suggesting that Roc had deliberately locked me in the vault and planned to leave me there!
It was as though my personality had split into two; there was part of me which was determined to defend Roc and prove him innocent, and another equally as determined to prove him guilty.
Who else could have locked the door of the vault? Who else could have come along and unlocked it, and then pretended that it was jammed? Who else had a motive for wanting to be rid of me? On my death Roc would inherit my grandfather’s fortune and be free to marry whomsoever he wished. Who would that be? Althea Grey?
Then I thought of what Polly had said that morning in Bedivere House: when Barbarina was dead Roc’s father had wanted to marry Louisa.
While I was brooding on these things there was a knock on my door and Morwenna came in. For a moment I felt envious of her radiant happiness.
“Oh hello, Favel. I hoped I’d find you here.” She looked at me anxiously. “Roc seems to have gone off in a bit of a huff. Why don’t you make it up?”
I was silent and she shrugged her shoulders. “It’s unlike him,” she went on. “Usually with him it’s a big flare up and then everything’s as it was before. Yet this thing of yours seems to have been going on for days.”
“You mustn’t let it bother you,” I said.
“Oh, I don’t. It’ll work itself out, I expect. But an annoying thing has happened, I’ve had to leave my car at the garage and I was wondering if you were using the Morris this morning.”
“Please have it,” I said. “I can go to Polhorgan—I’ve got to go some time, and I don’t need a car to go there.”
“Are you sure? I want to go into Plymouth. Dr. Clement says I’ve got to rest every day. He’s going to be a bit fussy about me, so I thought I’d do a bit of knitting. It’ll be something to do while I put my feet up. I want to get wools and patterns and there’s so little to choose from here.”
“Do take the Morris and don’t worry about me.”
She came over to me and, unexpectedly, kissed me. “Things will soon be all right between you and Roc, I know,” she said.
When she had gone I left at once for Polhorgan. There was no sense in sitting about and brooding; I went by way of the coast road and tried to stop thinking of Roc’s duplicity by planning the orphans’ home I might one day have at Polhorgan.
When I arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Dawson came out to greet me, and I could tell by their portentous manner that they had been eagerly looking forward to telling me something.
I was taken to the sitting room and given coffee, and then it came out.
“We wouldn’t mention this, madam, but for the fact that Mrs. Penhalligan has been having a word with Mrs. Dawson, and that has somewhat colored our views in the matter. It is a delicate subject, madam, and Mrs. Dawson and I trust that you will understand that it is only in our endeavor to serve you …”
I was anxious to cut short the circumlocution so I said: “Oh yes, of course I understand, Dawson.”
“Then, madam, I will tell you. I did not care to mention this before because I feared it might reflect on … one whom it was not my place to mention. But since Mrs. Penhalligan has spoken to Mrs. Dawson …”
“Please tell me all about it, Dawson.”
“Well, madam, Dr. Clement was so certain that his lordship died from natural causes and discouraged us from bringing forward what actually happened. There was no inquest, the cause of death being considered natural. But there is a way of hastening death, madam, and Mrs. Dawson and I have long been of the opinion that his lordship was hurried to the grave.”
“Yes, I know the bell and the box were on the floor, but he might very well have knocked them over when he was reaching for them.”
“So he might, madam; and who is to say he didn’t? One cannot make suppositions in a court of law. But Mrs. Dawson overheard a conversation between his lordship and the nurse on the morning of the night he died.”
“Oh? What conversation?”
“His lordship threatened to dismiss her if she continued to see Mr. er …” Dawson coughed apologetically. “Mr. Pendorric.”
I wanted to protest, but my throat seemed to have closed up and would not let my voice come through. I had had enough. I could not bear any more revelations.
“And it seems, madam, rather coincidental that not many hours later his lordship should be unable to reach his pills. Mrs. Dawson and I do not forget, madam, that a legacy was mentioned in that will for the nurse who was in his lordship’s employ at the time of his death …”
I was scarcely listening to them. I was thinking: How man
y lies has he told me? He did admit that he was almost engaged to Althea Grey. Then he had heard of my existence. He had married me as his father had married Barbarina. How much was he influenced by the past? It was as though we were actors in some obscure drama, playing the same parts which had been played before.
Barbarina had been married to bring money into Pendorric when her husband had been in love with Louisa Sellick. Had I been married for the same reason when my husband was in love with Althea Grey? Who was the vague shadow sensed by Jesse Pleydell on that day when Barbarina fell to her death? Was it her husband, Petroc Pendorric?
I’m becoming hysterical, I thought. I’m letting my imagination run away with me.
I should never have believed this of Roc before that scene in Bedivere House.
Now my thoughts would not be controlled. Had Althea Grey deliberately removed the pills, hoping to hasten his death? For he had to die, before I could inherit his money; and now … I had to die before it was theirs.
I wondered what gossip was going on all around me. Mrs. Penhalligan had talked to Mrs. Dawson. Did they all know then of the trouble between Roc and me? Did they know the reason?
The Dawsons were looking at me with concern and compassion. Were they warning me that Roc and Althea Grey were lovers? Were they suggesting that, since the nurse had had no compunction in hastening my grandfather to his death, she and her accomplice might have none in hastening me to mine?
I said: “It was very unfortunate that my grandfather should have imagined these things. I think perhaps being such an invalid he was apt to worry over nonexistent troubles. I have heard that it is a symptom of the illness he had.”
The Dawsons looked at me sorrowfully. Mrs. Dawson would have continued to speak, but Dawson was too much of a diplomatist to allow it. He lifted a hand and she was silent.
On his face was the expression of a man who can be satisfied that he has done his duty.
When I left Polhorgan I was afraid I should not be able to keep up my façade of serenity. I was too restless. There were so many things I wanted to find out and I had to go into action; one thing I could not endure was inactivity.
I wanted to talk to someone and I believed if Morwenna had not gone to Plymouth I should have sought her out and confided everything in her. There was Deborah. I could talk to her.
I hurried back to the house and went to Deborah’s room. She was not in. Uncertainly I came down to the hall again, telling myself that it would be easier to think out of doors, when the hall telephone began to ring.
When I answered it there was a low chuckle at the other end of the line.
“Ah, I was hoping I’d catch you. This is Althea Grey.”
I was startled because she was so much in my thoughts and I was growing more and more certain that she was playing a big part in the tangle.
“I was wondering if you’d come and see me before I go.”
“Before you go?”
“Yes, I’m leaving very soon. Tomorrow.”
“You mean leaving altogether?”
“Come along and I’ll tell you all about it. I’ve been wanting to have a talk with you for some time. When can you?”
“Why … now.”
“Suits me.” Again there was that low laugh and she rang off.
I hurried out of the house, out along the coast road; and in due course came to Cormorant Cottage.
It was aptly named; even now the gulls were swooping and soaring about the little cove which lay below, and I saw some cormorants. The cottage itself was perched on a rock which jutted out over the sea; it was small and painted blue and white, and there was a steep path which led up to it. It was the ideal summer cottage.
“Hello!” One of the windows was thrown up. “I’ve been watching for you. I’ll come down.”
I started up the path, which was almost overgrown with St. John’s wort, and by the time I reached the door Althea was standing there.
“I’m just packing.”
“You’re leaving?”
“M’m. Do come in and sit down.”
I stepped straight into a room with casement windows which looked onto the sea. It had clearly been furnished for renting, with only the essentials, and everything in drab colors which wouldn’t show the dirt.
“Rather a change from Polhorgan,” she commented, and held out a cigarette case while she looked at me with what seemed like amusement.
“Nice of you to come and see me.”
“I might say it was nice of you to ask me.”
“I was lucky to catch you in.”
“I’d only just come in. Roc’s away for a few days.”
“Yes, I know.”
I raised my eyebrows and again that flicker of amusement crossed her face. “Grape vine,” she said. “You can scarcely move in this place without everyone knowing all about it. Did anyone see you come in here?”
“No. Why … I don’t think so.”
“Because if someone did there’d be speculation, you bet.”
“I had no idea you were leaving Cornwall so soon.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “The season’s over. It’s lonely. You walk for miles along the cliffs without meeting anyone. You see, you didn’t meet anyone coming here from Pendorric. Not my cup of tea. By the way, would you like one?”
“No, thanks.”
“Coffee?”
“No, thank you. I can’t stay long.”
“A pity. We’ve never had a real cozy chat, have we? And it’s so peaceful here. I’ve often thought you were rather suspicious of me. I’d like to put that right.”
“Suspicious? What do you mean?”
“Now you’re playing innocent.”
“I should like to know why you asked me here. I thought you had something to tell me.”
“I have. And this is the time to tell. You see, I’ve got another job and I like to tidy everything up before I go.” She stretched out her long slim legs and regarded them with satisfaction. “Rich old gentleman going on a world tour needs a nurse in constant attendance. Rich old gentlemen seem to be my speciality.”
“Don’t rich young ones ever come your way?”
“The trouble with the young is that they don’t need nurses.” She burst into laughter. “Mrs. Pendorric, you are uneasy.”
“Uneasy?”
“Well, this is a lonely spot and I don’t believe you have a very high opinion of my character. You’re beginning to regret coming and are wondering how you can quietly slip away. Yet you came of your own free will, remember. In fact, you jumped at it when I asked you. It wasn’t really very wise, was it? You’re here and nobody knows you’ve come. You’re rather rash, Mrs. Pendorric. You act on the spur of the moment. Do come and look at my view.”
She took my hand and pulled me to my feet. She was strong and I remembered in that moment that Mabell Clement had said she only looked as though she were made of Dresden china.
She drew me to the window, holding my arm in a firm grip, while, with her free hand, she threw open the casement window. I looked down at the sheer drop to the sea. A long way below the waves were breaking in the jagged rocks.
“Imagine,” she said, her voice close to my ear, “someone falling from this window! Not a chance. It wouldn’t do to let this cottage to anyone with sleepwalking tendencies or to someone who was planning a little homicide.”
For a few seconds I really believed that she had lured me here to kill me. I thought: She has planned this … so that the way will be free to Roc and my grandfather’s fortune.
That she read my thoughts was obvious: but what I saw in her face was amusement as she released my arm.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that you would be more comfortable sitting down.”
“Why did you ask me here?” I demanded.
“That’s what I’m going to tell you.” She almost pushed me onto the dingy settee and sat in the armchair opposite me.
“Mrs. Pendorric,” she said, “you can stop being scared. I only
intend to talk. You really shouldn’t worry about me, you know. In a few days I shall have gone right away from this place.”
“Are you sorry to be going?”
“It’s a mistake to be sorry. Once a thing’s over it’s done with. You were always a little jealous of me, weren’t you? There’s no need to be. After all, you married him, didn’t you? It’s true he did think of marrying me once.”
“What about you?”
“Certainly. It would have been a good marriage. I don’t know whether it would have suited me though; I like adventure. But it’s true I’m past thirty now, so perhaps it is time I began to think about settling down.”
“You seem to find life … amusing.”
“Don’t you? You should. It’s the only way to live it. I’ve made a decision, Mrs. Pendorric; I’m going to tell you all you came to hear.”
She was laughing at me and strangely enough I was ready to believe whatever she told me, for although she seemed tough and extremely worldly, experienced and capable of almost anything, she did seem truthful—largely because she would find it more amusing to tell the truth than lies.
“What were you doing before you came to Polhorgan?” I asked.
“Nursing, of course.”
“As Nurse Stoner Grey?”
She shook her head. “In my last case I was Grey. Stoner Grey was before that.”
“Why did you drop Stoner?”
“Unpleasant publicity. Not that I minded, but it might not have been easy to get the kind of job I wanted. People have long memories. So you knew about the Stoner Grey incident. Those Dawsons told you, I bet.”
“They were a bit vague about it. It was … someone else.”
She nodded. “If all had gone well I might never have had to take up nursing again. There was nothing wrong with it. The old gentleman made a will in my favor; but they found he was non compos mentis … and his wife won the case.”
“I suppose you persuaded him to make that will.”
“Well, what do you think?” She leaned forward. “You’re a nice woman, Mrs. Pendorric, and I’m … not so nice. You see I didn’t have your advantages. No nice millionaire for a grandfather. I wasn’t really the sort of girl to marry into Pendorric. I’m an adventuress because I like adventure. It adds a spice to life. I lived the early part of my life in a back street, and I didn’t like that much. I was determined to break away … I was like your grandfather in my way. I hadn’t got the business flair though. I didn’t know how to set about earning millions. But it wasn’t long before I found out that I was beautiful, and that’s one of the best assets a girl can have. I took up nursing and I intended to go into private nursing, which was a way of getting what I wanted. And I saw that I got the right jobs too. That’s why I came to look after your grandfather.”
Bride of Pendorric Page 28