She looked towards the sunset as she said,
“A new future is waiting there for you, strange, exciting, different from anything you have ever seen or known before. But if you do not find India as wonderful as I anticipate you will, then there are many other countries which will give you new ideas, and I think too new ambitions.”
The Viscount drew in his breath.
Then he said,
“Thank you. You have shown me the centre of the Maze, and I know now I can find my way!”
Giona turned to smile at him and he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.
“Thank you,” he said again as he kissed it.
*
As he came round the corner of a yew hedge the Duke saw Giona and Lucien standing at the entrance to the Maze and the graceful stance of the Viscount as he kissed Giona’s hand.
It struck him that it would be impossible for two people to look more elegant or more romantic, but their appearance gave him no pleasure.
Instead an emotion something like anger seemed to burn through him, making him feel as if he saw them both coloured as crimson as the sunset.
Then because he was intelligent he knew, undeniably, incredibly and utterly unexpectedly, that what he was feeling was jealousy!
CHAPTER SIX
The Duke spent a restless night trying to persuade himself that what he had felt when he saw Lucien kissing Giona’s hand was not jealousy.
He told himself he must have drunk too much at dinner, or else was feeling on edge at having so little news of Sir Jarvis.
Whatever it was, the idea of jealousy was ridiculous! How could he at his age be concerned with a girl of eighteen?
He had already assured himself not once but a dozen times that his concern for Giona was entirely impersonal.
His real object was to bring Sir Jarvis to justice both for his treatment of what was little more than a child, and the manner in which both he and his daughter were prepared to deceive Lucien.
But try as he would, it was impossible for him not to find himself a dozen times a day thinking of Giona, of her strange Grecian beauty and the expression in her eyes when she looked at him.
He tried to tell himself as he drove back to Alverstode House that whatever his feelings over Lucien had been, they were unnecessary.
Then as they moved along the narrow lanes which lay between the Dower House and Alverstode itself Lucien remarked,
“I have decided to go to India!”
“To India?” the Duke exclaimed in surprise. “What makes you think of going there?”
“Giona has persuaded me that it would be a good idea – and I want to get away.”
There was a pause of some seconds before the Duke asked,
“Is she thinking of accompanying you?”
“No, of course not! Why should you think she would do that? Besides, I want to go alone.”
“Yes, of course,” the Duke agreed, “and on consideration I think it would be a good idea for you to travel.”
Obviously gratified at his agreement, Lucien talked eagerly of the places he would like to visit until they reached Alverstode House.
As the Duke was anxious that nobody should guess that Giona was staying with his grandmother, he had made it quite clear when they left London where he and Lucien would be.
He had then remarked casually to his servants after he arrived that he was dining at the Dower House. Because news of interest on the estate travelled as if on the wind, he was quite certain that by this time his servants and quite a number of other people would be aware that his grandmother had a visitor. He hoped that because there were a great number of things that required his attention at his home nobody would connect him in any possible way with Giona.
Yet when he was alone he found himself thinking how lovely she looked in her new gown and it was difficult for him not to appreciate the warmth and sincerity in his grandmother’s voice when she spoke of her.
One thing had come out of the evening which was unexpected, Giona was sending Lucien away and it would therefore be difficult for anybody, even somebody as skilful as the Duchess, to encourage her to be interested in him.
“I suppose it is too soon for him to think any girl attractive after Claribel,” the Duke told himself ruefully.
Then once again there was that question in his mind as to why he had felt so strange when he saw Lucien kissing Giona’s hand.
Hibbert called him at his usual early hour and he went riding, knowing there was no question of Lucien rising early enough to join him.
He resisted an impulse to ride in the direction of the Dower House and instead galloped over the Park in the opposite direction.
Breakfast was waiting for him when he returned a little later than usual and he was just finishing what had been a satisfying meal when the butler announced,
“Mr. Middleton has arrived from London to see Your Grace.”
“Mr. Middleton!” the Duke exclaimed in surprise.
Then before he could say any more Mr. Middleton walked into the dining room.
“Good-Heavens!” the Duke ejaculated. “What brings you here so early in the morning? Has the house burnt down, or have I been robbed of everything I possess?”
“Neither, Your Grace,” Mr. Middleton replied.
He waited for the butler to close the door and they were left alone in the dining room before he said,
“I received news last night that I thought should be in your hands immediately.”
“About Sir Jarvis?”
Mr. Middleton nodded.
“Sit down and tell me about it,” the Duke invited. “Will you have a cup of coffee?”
“Thank you, that can wait,” Mr. Middleton replied, “but this is urgent.”
“I am sure it is. You must have left London before dawn!”
Mr. Middleton sat down at the table and drew some papers out of a briefcase.
“You were quite right, Your Grace,” he said, “in suspecting there had been some scandal and it is in fact, very much worse than we thought.”
There was a look of satisfaction on the Duke’s face as he settled himself in his chair to listen.
“We already knew,” Mr. Middleton went on, “that Sir Jarvis’s father had made a considerable amount of money out of the slave trade, and Sir Jarvis was in it in a very big way.”
“His ships, I imagine, were based at Liverpool?” the Duke interposed.
“The majority of them,” Mr. Middleton agreed, “and I hardly need add that he was one of the slave traders with a reputation for being more ruthless and more avaricious than the others.”
“That is what I might have surmised,” the Duke remarked.
“However in 1800 he overstepped himself,” Mr. Middleton continued. “A cargo of slaves being carried in one of Sir Jarvis’s ships from Africa was on arrival in the Port of Savannah barred from entering the harbour because a large number of those aboard had contracted yellow fever.”
The Duke was aware that this would have involved the strictest quarantine since yellow fever was notoriously infectious.
“As it happened,” Mr. Middleton went on, “Sir Jarvis was actually in Savannah at the time, waiting to receive a high price for the slaves that were to be disembarked and placed in the stockade where prospective buyers could inspect them.”
The Duke nodded, knowing the procedure regarding slaves that he had read in the reports put before Parliament.
“Apparently,” Mr. Middleton continued, “Sir Jarvis was furious when the ship was forced to anchor outside the port and no amount of persuasion or bribery on his part could change the authorities’ ban until the ship had received medical clearance.”
Mr. Middleton paused for breath, and the Duke asked,
“Then what happened?”
“Apparently from the reports my investigators have received, Sir Jarvis suddenly changed his whole attitude and informed everybody that the precautions were very wise, and the only people he was sorry for wer
e the Captain and crew aboard the ship.”
The Duke raised his eyebrows, but he did not interrupt and Mr. Middleton went on,
“In fact, he was so sorry for them that he sent several barrels of rum aboard so that they could at least enjoy themselves while they were waiting.”
Mr. Middleton’s voice lowered as he remarked,
“The rum must have been very potent for that night the ship, according to my reports, was set on fire, and nobody was awake to give the alarm.”
“What you are saying,” the Duke said slowly, “is that the rum was drugged!”
“That is a supposition that has not been easy to prove,” Mr. Middleton said. “The ship burned quickly and there were few survivors.”
“Why was that?”
“Because in Sir Jarvis’s ships all the slaves were in chains below decks. This was not the usual practice of the trade, except in ships where there had been riots or where the wretched creatures had tried frantically to throw themselves overboard.”
“So there was no chance of their getting away?”
“None survived,” Mr. Middleton said, “except two of the crew, who were badly burned.”
“It is the most monstrous thing I have ever heard!” the Duke cried.
“Now we come to the main point of our investigations, Your Grace,” Mr. Middleton said. “The Shipping Company put in a large claim to the Insurance Writers and it was they who thought the whole thing was suspicious and raised the question of arson.”
The Duke made a sound but Mr. Middleton continued,
“I have been in touch with them and they considered they had a very good case against the Shipping Company of which Sir Jarvis was not only the Chairman but the main share-holder.”
“Then why did they not prosecute him?” the Duke enquired.
“They were about to do so,” Mr. Middleton replied, “when they found that particular ship was solely owned by another Director of the Company.”
“Who was that?”
“Sir Jarvis’s brother, James Stamford!”
The Duke started.
Now he was beginning to understand the secret that had kept Giona’s father abroad for so long.
“A warrant was actually made out for the arrest of James Stamford,” Mr. Middleton was saying, “but it was found that he had gone abroad the previous year, and although the warrant is still in existence it has not been executed because he never returned to this country.”
“So that is how Sir Jarvis got himself out of trouble!” the Duke exclaimed harshly.
“The detectives I hired for this investigation,” Mr. Middleton said, “found a man in Liverpool who retired many years ago from the firm and they managed to persuade him to make a statement admitting that he had tampered with the documents regarding the ownership of the vessel.”
“It was obviously not very difficult,” the Duke observed, “to alter the name of ‘Jarvis’ into ‘James’.”
“That is exactly what the clerk said when he was questioned,” Mr. Middleton smiled.
“It was clever! Very clever!” the Duke murmured. “There was quite a lot about it in the newspapers at the time,”
Mr. Middleton continued,
“Mr. William Wilberforce asked questions in Parliament and the Abolition of Slavery Society spoke out violently against any ship-owner chaining slaves with the result that even if the ship was in great danger there was no possibility of their freeing themselves. However without a scapegoat the whole controversy died down.”
The Duke was seeing it all so clearly, realising how extraordinarily astute Sir Jarvis had been.
His brother James had already decided to live abroad for a time until the gossip and scandal over his marriage should subside.
That Sir Jarvis was prepared to make him a very rich man if he would save him and the family name from disgrace by continuing his exile indefinitely would not have seemed such a hardship at the beginning of his marriage, when he was wildly in love and asking only to be with the woman who had captured his heart.
He could understand what Giona had meant when she said that later her father was sometimes restless and homesick for the country of his birth, and for the sports and pastimes he had always enjoyed.
What was unforgivable was that having saved his brother from social disgrace if nothing else, Sir Jarvis had then deliberately robbed and ill-treated Giona because he was afraid that in some way she might reveal his guilty secret.
Now there was no question that he must be brought to punishment and that was something upon which the Duke was determined.
“I suppose there would be no difficulty in proving what you have just told me?” the Duke asked.
“None at all, Your Grace,” Mr. Middleton replied. “It was because I am so anxious that every detail could be substantiated and that I could produce witnesses who were not only reliable but who would be accredited in court, that this investigation has taken longer than Your Grace hoped.”
“I am now extremely grateful to you, Middleton,” the Duke said, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice.
Mr. Middleton rose from the table.
“I will put these papers on Your Grace’s desk,” he said, “so that you can peruse them at your leisure. There is only one thing which I must admit is slightly unfortunate.”
The Duke looked at his secretary sharply.
“And what is that?” he enquired.
“It is that I am afraid,” Mr. Middleton said hesitatingly, “that Sir Jarvis by now will be aware that we are making enquiries.”
“How do you know?”
“The investigators were instructed to work with the greatest possible secrecy,” Mr. Middleton replied, “but the behaviour of one Senior Clerk in the firm of which Sir Jarvis is still Chairman, and the fact that he disappeared the day after our people had been there, make them suspect that he had come South to notify Sir Jarvis of what was taking place.”
“That is unfortunate,” the Duke said, “and I presume he may now know, or at least guess, that I am behind the enquiries you have been making.”
“I cannot completely rule out the possibility, Your Grace.”
The Duke was silent.
He was thinking of Giona and as he did so his instinct, which had always warned him of danger during the war, told him now that if Sir Jarvis were aware that it was he who was behind the enquiries then he would also suspect who was responsible for Giona’s disappearance.
The feeling of danger was so strong, so insistent, that he told himself it was imperative that he should see Giona immediately to warn her not only of what had occurred, but that it might even be necessary to move her somewhere else.
He rose to his feet saying as he did so,
“Thank you, Middleton! Thank you very much! Now have some breakfast after your journey, and I will see you later in the morning.”
“I thank Your Grace.”
The Duke walked from the breakfast room, and when he reached the hall he was wondering whether to ride or to drive to the Dower House.
Then the butler came towards him to say,
“The horses that Your Grace ordered to be brought round for Your Grace’s appraisal are outside.”
The Duke remembered then, what he had forgotten, that he had told his grooms when he finished riding that he wished to see a pair of bays that he had bought at Tattersall’s the previous week.
“I will drive them with a High-Perch Phaeton,” he had said, “and see how they work out.”
Now it struck him that if he drove them to the Dower House he would be ‘killing two birds with one stone’ and also assuaging his sense of anxiety.
Then he laughed at his fears and was sure his feelings of danger and emergency were quite unnecessary.
It was surely impossible for Sir Jarvis to guess where Giona was hidden.
Nevertheless there was no point in taking risks.
“I am going to the Dower House,” he said to his butler.
As he w
alked towards the front door Hibbert came down the stairs with a clean pair of gloves to replace those he had worn during his early morning ride.
He had no idea why, but his instinct told him to take Hibbert with him, and without troubling to make any explanation he said,
“Come with me, Hibbert. I want you!” and walked down the steps towards the Phaeton.
Fortunately it was not Ben who was in charge of it, who would have been offended if he had been replaced by the Duke’s valet, but one of the younger grooms.
The Duke swung himself into the driving-seat and picked up the reins.
Hibbert would have climbed up onto the small seat behind had not the Duke ordered him sharply to sit beside him.
The bays, which had been sold as being well trained though spirited, set off at a sharp pace.
The Duke quickly had them under control and they moved out of the courtyard and some way along the oak-avenued drive before turning along a grass track, which was the quickest route to the Dower House.
Hibbert did not speak, but the Duke knew he was alert with curiosity and had a feeling in his bones that ‘something was up’.
But the Duke still made no explanation, only saying,
“I have the idea I may need you, Hibbert, so be ready and on your guard.”
“Against what or whom, Your Grace?”
“To be honest, I have no idea,” the Duke replied. “But we may be in trouble.”
“I hopes that’s true, Your Grace,” Hibbert grinned. “A man gets soft in peacetime.”
The Duke smiled.
It was what he thought himself, but he did not trouble to answer, concerning himself with his horses.
*
Giona had not slept well because she had sensed when the Duke said goodnight that something had annoyed him.
She had no idea what it could be, but there was a harsh note in his voice, his eyes looked like steel and she thought he had retreated into a shell which made him seem impersonal and out of reach.
‘What has upset him? What could I have done?’ she asked herself.
Although she went diligently over in her mind everything that had been said during the evening she found no clue to the sudden change in his attitude between dinner and the time when they said goodnight.
A Shaft of Sunlight Page 11