“I thought you would think this room beautiful,” he said. “It will not be used until I bring home a bride.”
‘That will be Delphine,’ Nerissa thought, but she did not, of course, say so aloud.
She only felt a strange feeling of protectiveness towards the Duke, as if she feared that Delphine might hurt him and she wanted to save him from any unhappiness.
Abruptly, as if the Duke did not wish to say anything more about his future marriage, he opened yet another door, which led into the boudoir that connected with the Duchess Room.
Here again there was every suggestion of love in the Fragonard pictures of lovers in a garden, cupids flying over their heads and more cupids painted by Boucher.
This room also was in the pale blue colour of Delphine’s eyes with touches of pink that seemed like rays of sunshine.
Nerissa glanced round the room at the fine inlaid French furniture, at the Louis XIV gilt chairs and a satinwood commode with huge ormolu handles.
Again the Duke pronounced in the same tone that he had used before,
“I am sure that you will not find what you are seeking here.”
It was almost, Nerissa thought, as if he was pleased to prove her wrong and to justify his assertion that there was nothing substantial or logical about ghost stories wherever they came from.
“There are several more State Rooms to be seen,” he said now, “but I suggest we leave those until tomorrow and by that time I hope the family ghost will have ceased to worry you so much, Nerissa.”
It was yet another time that he had called her by her Christian name and Nerissa thought it rather strange and yet it seemed to come naturally to his lips.
“It will not worry me,” she replied, “but I have a feeling that, although you are fighting against it, it worries you.”
“Why should you think that?” the Duke demanded sharply.
“Perhaps because you are more sensitive than most men about such things – ” she began.
“And why should you think that?” he interrupted. “Who said I was sensitive?”
He spoke crossly and Nerissa gave a little cry.
“Now I have upset you and I did not mean to do so! You have been so kind and I have not yet thanked you for saving me from Sir Montague.”
“He had no business to behave as he did. At the same time it was not very clever of you to go back from the Horse Show all alone with him and then allow him to take you into an empty room.”
“I know,” Nerissa said unhappily, “but it just happened – I-I did not want to make a scene about it.”
“Promise me that you will not do it again.”
“I promise – and I know it was – very foolish of me.”
She sounded so contrite that the Duke smiled.
“And now, unless you are prepared for endless gossip, we must return to the others.”
“Yes – of course, Your Grace.”
They walked towards the door at the other end of the room.
The Duke opened it and Nerissa saw that they were in a small dressing room or what she guessed had originally been intended as a powder room where ladies could have their hair powdered without making a mess.
There was only one candle affixed to the dressing table, which held a mirror in a heart-shaped frame with two cupids surmounting it holding up a crown.
Nerissa gave an appreciative glance as the Duke opened the door into the corridor.
As he did so, she noticed that the only other piece of furniture in the small room was a cabinet. It was of dark wood inlaid with small pieces of mother-of-pearl and coral.
She would have passed it without taking a second look if some instinct or perception within her had not made her stop.
It was almost as if the chest was speaking to her and, as she stood still, the Duke, holding the door into the passage, asked her,
“What is it?”
“I ‒ believe,” Nerissa said in a very small voice, “that this is the – cabinet I saw in my dream.”
For a moment she thought that the Duke was going to argue with her.
Then he came back allowing the door to close behind him.
“How can you be sure?” he asked.
“I – feel it,” she replied simply.
“It must have been searched a thousand times,” he said, “because it has always been in the Duchess’s Suite.”
“It is the chest where she – hid the wreath,” Nerissa persisted. “I am certain ‒ of it.”
As if he was prepared to humour her, while at the same time thinking that it was a waste of time, the Duke then lit a second candle on the other side of the mirror from the one that was already alight.
Then, as Nerissa stood in front of the cabinet, she found herself involuntarily praying that the unhappy bride of long ago would help her to find what she sought.
“The doors in the front open,” the Duke said as if he was prompting her to make some movement, “and I am sure they are not locked.”
Nerissa remembered that in her dream no door had been opened. The bride had put her wreath in something higher up, like a drawer above the doors of the cabinet.
But, when she looked, there was no drawer there, just the smoothness of polished wood, which curved so that it jutted slightly over the two doors beneath it and was obviously just the top of the cabinet.
Frantically she wondered if some part of the cabinet had been remodelled at some time.
The Duke did not speak as she put out her fingers to touch the curved dark lacquered wood, feeling along it to see if it moved, but finding that there was nothing to suggest that it was a possibility.
Then, still praying and still striving to reach the Duchess who had died so tragically so many years earlier, she ran her fingers underneath the curved surface where it protruded above the doors, finding that smooth too and without a join of any sort.
Then, as she reached the end at the corner of the cabinet, she became aware of a slight projection against the tip of her forefinger and she pressed it.
As she did so, she felt a slight movement and she pressed it harder.
Then the whole top of the cabinet moved forward and as it did so Nerissa saw inside a shallow and thin drawer where there lay what she recognised must be the wreath she sought.
For a moment she could not believe her own eyes.
Then the Duke was beside her, holding the candle high above his head so that they could see more clearly what the drawer contained.
“It is the wreath!” he exclaimed. “How could you possibly have known and how could you have found it after all these years?”
Nerissa could not answer, she only felt as if for a moment she had stepped into another world, another time, and it was impossible to return.
The Duke put the candle on top of the cabinet and, putting his hand into the drawer, drew out what they had been seeking.
It was not, as Nerissa had expected, of artificial orange blossom, but of flowers fashioned in diamonds and pearls. It was small, delicately made and very beautiful.
As the Duke held it up to the light of the candle, she felt as if, as it glittered, it spoke to her and told her that from now on the curse had ended and the future Dukes and Duchesses of Lynchester would remain happy until their lives ended.
The Duke was staring first in disbelief at the wreath and then at Nerissa.
“How could you have known and how could you have possibly been aware of what has defeated many generations of my family, who have searched for this wreath either because they believed in its existence or because they wished to prove that the whole story was a lot of nonsense?”
“Because it is there – it must be true.”
“Of course it is true,” the Duke said, “and now the unhappy bride can rest quietly and no longer haunt us. The only difficulty is, Nerissa, how I can thank you.”
As if she suddenly came back to earth, Nerissa put up her hand and insisted,
“Please – please – don’t tell them – downst
airs. They will not – understand – and I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But I do understand,” the Duke replied in his deep voice. “So I think what we will do is to put the wreath back in the place that has kept it safely for so many years. Then tomorrow we will come here together and make sure that what we have found is really true and not just a dream.”
“That is just what I would – like to do – Your Grace, and – please – you will not tell Delphine?”
“No, of course not,” the Duke said firmly. “I have already given you my word about that, Nerissa, and I will not break it.”
Nerissa drew a deep breath.
Then she smiled,
“I am glad – so very glad – that I have been able to help you.”
“Perhaps more than you realise, but again, we will talk about it tomorrow.”
He put the wreath back in the drawer and then, as he closed it, he said with a smile,
“I suppose you can remember how to open it?”
“There is a secret catch just at the corner and so skilfully made that no one has been aware of it who has not been told where to find it.”
“Nobody has told you and yet you found it!”
Nerissa did not answer.
She was then thinking that somehow she had been meant to find it and this was why the Duchess who had hidden the wreath had, in some strange way that she could not understand, guided her fingers to find the catch.
“All that matters,” she said aloud, “is that it has been found and now when you marry, Your Grace, you will be happy.”
“That is what I want to be,” the Duke sighed.
His eyes met Nerissa’s in the candlelight and for a moment it was impossible for either of them to look away.
Then with what was an obvious effort the Duke turned and put the candle back in the place from where he had taken it beside the mirror.
While he was doing this, Nerissa opened the door and stepped out into the corridor.
As she did so, she felt as if she was stepping out of a dream and into reality.
And yet she had no desire to return.
She wanted to stay, feeling again the strange intuition that had made her so certain that the cabinet was the one she sought.
She wanted too, although she knew that it was something she should not admit, to stay with the Duke.
Chapter Six
Something was wrong and Nerissa was not certain what it was.
She had thought after the excitement of last night that this would be such a happy day and she awoke feeling that her heart was singing and all was right with the world.
She had arranged with Harry that they would ride early before anybody else was about and he was waiting for her when she came from her bedroom and they went to the stables together.
They took their horses immediately to the gallop and Nerissa could not help continually looking behind her expecting every moment that the Duke would join them.
But, although they stayed on the gallop for a long time, there was no sign of him and, as they rode home through the woods the same way that he had taken Nerissa the first morning, she wondered why he had stayed away and if there was some special reason for it.
Then she told herself that she was being ridiculous.
Maybe the Duke was tired after going to bed late last night or perhaps he had thought it would be indiscreet to be with her again early in the morning.
She wondered if Delphine had learned about it and had reproached him.
There were all sorts of possibilities, but none of them made her feel any happier.
She had not even seen the Duke when after breakfast she went to the Church, it being Sunday, with his aunt, Lady Wentworth.
When they left, none of the other ladies of the house party had yet appeared, although there were a number of gentlemen still in the breakfast room.
Nerissa had thought that perhaps her father would come to the Church with them, but she found him in one of the sitting rooms busy making notes on what he had seen so far at Lyn and what he particularly wanted to examine later that morning.
“You have not forgotten,” he stated, “that the Duke has arranged for us to inspect the house and I know that he also asked his Curator to accompany us and his assistant who is also very knowledgeable on the Elizabethan period.”
Nerissa thought that it was foolish of her, but she had somehow expected the Duke to show them round alone.
Although, when the time came, he had begun the tour with the Curator and after they had visited only two of the finest rooms he was called away and did not return.
Nerissa tried very hard to concentrate on the Elizabethan features that were unique to Lyn.
Yet she found herself wondering if the Duke was talking and laughing with Delphine and whether she would have a chance of going with him to see the wreath once more as he had promised.
It was something that she was so looking forward to as her father still went from room to room asking questions and making notes of the answers.
He was, she knew, blissfully happy to be seeing for himself the wonders of a house that he had always admired.
At luncheon nobody talked about anything but the Festival of Flowers that was to be held that evening.
The ladies were being very mysterious about what they were going to wear, but Nerissa was certain that Delphine intended to be the winner and had planned something particularly spectacular for herself.
She had made sure, she told them, that the judging would be taken very seriously and the twelve contestants were to walk down the steps of the dais into the ballroom one by one.
“We shall be accompanied by music,” Delphine said, “and, after all the excitement is over and the prizes have been presented, then we will dance. The Duke has asked a number of neighbours to join us and I doubt if the Festival of Flowers at Lyn will finish before dawn.”
She was making it quite clear that it was her idea and her party and Nerissa thought that she was already assuming her position as the Duchess of Lynchester and taking up her duties.
The plans were still being discussed at teatime and she waited in vain for the Duke to give her a sign that they could go together to the cabinet and look again at the wreath that she had found for him.
It seemed so incredible that she had been able to find it that Nerissa kept wondering if she had dreamt the whole scenario and if, when she went back to the Duchess’s Suite, she would find it impossible to open the secret drawer and would have to realise that the diamond wreath of flowers existed only in her vivid imagination.
She was so busy with her father that it was only when she went up the stairs to wash her hands before tea that she found Mary waiting for her in a state of agitation.
“I wondered what’d happened to you, miss! The gardeners told me you’re the only lady as hasn’t yet chosen her flowers.”
“I doubt if there are any left by now,” Nerissa smiled.
“That’s the truth, miss, and the gardeners are ever so perturbed at what little they have to offer you.”
“Where are they, Mary?” Nerissa asked.
“There’s only one young one left, miss. The others have gone to make the wreaths and all the other paraphernalia the ladies have asked of them. You can’t imagine how fantastic they’ll look, just like somethin’ out of a playhouse.”
“My needs are very simple,” Nerissa suggested.
But, because Mary pressed her, she went down the passage to where there was a young gardener waiting in a room that had been set aside for the flowers.
As Mary had told her, there was practically nothing left.
The gardeners had brought sample bunches of what was available and every lady had fought to get her own favourite flower and make sure that there was enough to ornament not only her head but also her gown.
“I am sorry to keep you waiting,” Nerissa addressed him in her quiet voice.
“That be all right, miss,” the gardener replied. “I’m just wor
ried as to what I’ve to offer you.”
Nerissa looked round and was not surprised to find that there were no roses, lilies or camellias either white or pink.
They had been spoken for and there was only a small bunch of pansies of not particularly pretty colours and asters, that looked somehow too hard for a wreath, and a few yellow irises that Nerissa knew would not look at all effective against the pale gold of her hair.
“I’m afraid that’s all,” the gardener said apologetically, “unless you’d consider some of the field flowers.”
Nerissa’s eyes lit up.
“Have you any forget-me-nots?” she asked.
“There be ’undreds of they, miss. They grows like weeds in one part of the garden and we can’t get rid of ’em.”
“Then can you would be very kind and make me a wreath of forget-me-nots,” Nerissa said. “I have always thought them a very beautiful little wild flower.”
“You’ll want more than a wreath, miss,” Mary joined in from the doorway.
Nerissa had not realised that Mary had followed her and she turned with a smile as the young maid came into the room to say ‘goodnight’.
“You bring me bunches of them forget-me-nots and then I’ll arrange ’em and don’t be skimpy,” Mary proposed.
“I’ll do that,” the gardener grinned.
Having thanked him, Nerissa then went back to her bedroom.
“What are you planning, Mary?” she asked as she washed her hands. “I am quite happy to be unobtrusive and I am sure that my sister will win the prize and look very beautiful in her flowers.”
“Her Ladyship’s demanded enough roses for a Coronation!” Mary exclaimed. “The Head Gardener’s grumblin’ because they’re his favourite pale pink and he says, if her Ladyship has everythin’ she wants, there won’t be nothin’ left in the garden!”
Nerissa laughed and did not worry any further about her appearance at the Festival of Flowers.
Equally it gave her a warm feeling that she and the Duke shared the secret of the wreath, which was far more important than anything the gardeners could provide or his other guests could wear.
Never Forget Love Page 10