The Earl sat immobile, his eyes seeming to stare into space.
“I did not expect such words,” he said eventually.
He rang the bell at his elbow and his valet hurried in. Curtly the Earl told him to start packing. They were travelling tomorrow.
“To – Switzerland?” asked the valet.
“That’s right,” said the Earl. “To Switzerland. To be reunited with my wife.”
*
The Earl set off early at dawn with his valet. Jacina did not even hear him leave.
Her misery was acute. ‘It will be a true honeymoon’. She was only too well aware that now at last the Earl and Felice would have the opportunity to truly become man and wife.
She had not taken a book from the library the day before and so she decided to go and find one today. She had to distract herself somehow until her father arrived.
She found the curtains in the library still drawn. She pulled them open and looked out at the drear November skies. Then she turned and surveyed the room. Her eye immediately alighted on the letter from Felice. It lay crumpled on the side table. She remembered that she had left it there, but she most certainly had not crumpled it up like that!
As she gazed on it a frown started to crease her brow. She walked over and picked up the letter. She stared hard at it, biting her lip.
Then with a sudden exclamation she turned on her heels and raced from the room. Within moments she was in the nursery.
“Sarah, Sarah!”
Sarah had taken a chill and was sitting by the fire, wrapped in a blanket. She blinked at Jacina.
“What is it, my dear?”
“That letter Felice Delisle sent to you – when she was engaged to Crispian – do you still have it?”
Sarah seemed befuddled.
“Why, no. I burned it.”
“You burned it?”
Sarah set her lips. “I didn’t want to keep no letter from her any longer. Not after all that happened.”
Jacina sank onto a chair in dismay.
A moment ago, in the library, that old letter to Sarah had suddenly flashed into her mind. She had remembered that when she first saw it, she had been struck by its dainty handwriting.
The writing in the letter she had read to the Earl was completely different – large and looped and not dainty at all.
The Felice who wrote that letter to Sarah and the Felice who wrote yesterday to the Earl, could not possibly be the same person.
The Earl would not have realised that the handwriting was not the handwriting of the fiancée with whom he had once corresponded because he was blind.
Apart from the Earl, there was no one else left at Castle Ruven who knew what Felice’s handwriting should look like. The old Earl was dead and Crispian was dead. Even so, Jacina suddenly thought, Felice and Fronard had taken no chances. Nancy had seen them burn the letters that Crispian had received from his fiancée. No doubt they had also burned any letters to the old Earl or to Hugo when he was in India in case anybody found them.
That was what Fronard was doing all that time he was ‘snooping’ about the castle. Eliminating any tell tale traces of Felice Delisle. The real Felice Delisle.
They never imagined Felice being kind enough to have written to her fiancé’s old Nanny.
Jacina’s heart thudded with horror. If the woman who had married the Earl ten days ago was not the real Felice, then who was she? Who was she and who was Fronard and what did they want?
They wanted – they wanted the rubies and the emeralds and the Ruven diamonds that had come to the so-called Felice on her marriage to the Earl! But was that all?
Why had Felice enticed the Earl to Switzerland when she already had all the jewels in her possession?
Jacina racked her brains. What more did they want, what more?
Suddenly she sat up straight. Of course! Her father had explained it all that day in the library when he was discussing the old Earl’s will. The estate was entailed. Felice would never inherit. It would go to either to the Earl’s eldest child or, should he die without issue, to a distant male relative. So in recompense the old Earl had settled a ‘generous sum’ on Felice, which she would receive should her husband die before her.
Felice and Fronard wanted that money and they could only get it if Hugo, Earl of Ruven was dead.
They must have plotted to kill him at some point and make it look like an accident.
Jacina felt the blood drain from her face.
No wonder Fronard had accepted the challenge to a duel with such alacrity. No wonder ‘Felice’ had collapsed in hysterical laughter. The Earl and Jacina had smoothed the way for them. They could get rid of the Earl and no one would suspect that was what they had planned all along.
It was horrifyingly clear to Jacina. When the Earl was brought back alive to the castle that day, Felice had had to think very quickly. She had acted the part of the devoted wife to perfection and the Earl had forgiven her.
She was now back in his favour and she had confidently left for Switzerland to put the finishing touches to her plan. To find a chateau where she could isolate the Earl and then, with Fronard’s help – dispose of him.
If her recent exemplary behaviour had not fully
convinced her husband to follow her, then that last letter would!
Jacina was wondering what Felice planned to do with the Earl’s valet, when she became aware that Sarah was speaking to her.
“If I’d have known you wanted that letter I’d never have burned it.”
“That’s alright, Sarah. Don’t worry about it.”
Sarah coughed and drew her chair nearer the fire.
Jacina moaned softly as she thought of her predicament.
The Earl’s life was in danger but who would believe her, who? The one piece of evidence – the letter to Sarah, which could have been compared with the recent letter to the Earl – was gone. Sarah would believe her, but she could not involve Sarah in yet another series of allegations, particularly as the old lady was not well.
Her father would surely listen, but he might not arrive for another day or two. That would be too late! If Fronard had not already met Felice en route, he would surely be waiting for her in Switzerland. The Earl was travelling straight into a trap.
It struck Jacina that Felice had waited to leave until she was sure Doctor Carlton was coming to fetch his daughter home, before she had allowed herself to leave Castle Ruven. Was that because Felice suspected Jacina might yet plant doubts about his wife in the Earl’s mind?
Jacina rose to her feet and began to pace the room. There was no time to lose. Someone had to make the journey to Switzerland to warn the Earl. Who could she send?
She stopped before Sarah’s dressing table and stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked haunted and her face was white.
Even as she looked, she knew there was only one person who might be able to convince the Earl that his life was in danger. Herself!
She, who had never left the environs of Ruvensford, must set out alone for Switzerland.
And she must set out that very night!
CHAPTER EIGHT
The lights of the Hotel Cronos looked warm and inviting from where Jacina stood on the pavement opposite. She had just alighted from the fiacre that had met her carriage from Geneva. The vehicle had been draughty and Jacina had shivered all the way.
She had barely eaten in two days – just some fruit and a brioche snatched at a baker’s stall in Paris.
It had been a long, cold journey from England and she hoped she would never make another like it. She had never felt so alone in her whole life.
Only the stable boy, whom she had bribed to drive her to the station in Carlisle, knew she was leaving. She had left a letter to wait for her father. All she had taken with her was the money her father had left her and a small travelling case.
If it were not for the thought of the Earl and the danger he was in, she would have turned back more than once.
She hoped sh
e was not too late. When she had arrived at Carlisle station that night, it was only to discover that there was no train until the following morning. So she was arriving here in St. Moritz a whole day later than the Earl.
With trepidation Jacina picked up her travelling case and crossed the street to the hotel.
The concierge regarded her suspiciously when she asked if the Earl of Ruven was alone. She explained that she was a friend from England with important news and eventually the concierge instructed a maid to show her up to the Earl’s room. The Countess, the concierge added, had gone out early that morning and had not returned.
Jacina rapped at the Earl’s door with a pounding heart. The door opened and there at last he stood, the man for whom she had dared this long journey.
“Jacina!” he exclaimed.
All her remaining strength deserted her in one go. With a cry she collapsed unconscious into his arms.
When she opened her eyes a few moments later, she was lying on a chaise long. She struggled upright in alarm.
“My – my Lord?”
His voice reassured her from nearby. “I am here, Jacina.” He was sitting at a writing desk, the chair swivelled her way.
She stared at him, her thoughts in a whirl.
“M-my Lord. When you opened the door you – you said my name before I spoke. How – how could you have known – ?”
“That it was you?” The Earl stood and held out his hand. “Come here, Jacina.”
Jacina rose unsteadily and moved towards the Earl. He took her hand and led her in front of an ornate mirror that hung on the wall. She could see her own reflection and that of the Earl behind her.
Slowly the Earl raised a candle until he was holding it close to his eyes. His dark, liquid gaze arrested her attention. She gazed back for a moment and then gasped.
“You – you can see!”
“Yes, Jacina. I can see.”
When he had regained consciousness after the duel, he had soon realised that his sight was returning. At first he saw only blurred and shadowy outlines. It was only gradually that the world came into sharper focus.
“Your father believed that I had suffered a ‘trauma blindness’,” said the Earl. “It turns out that he was right!”
Jacina was dizzy with joy, but she could not help wondering why he had kept the fact that he was beginning to see again hidden from everybody.
He said that he did not want to raise false hopes, including his own, until he could be sure his sight had returned for good.
There were other reasons for remaining silent, but first he wanted to know how and why Jacina had travelled all the way to Switzerland on her own.
Jacina noticed that as he spoke, his eyes seemed to be devouring her image in the mirror. She blushed and lowered her gaze.
The Earl excused himself. “I am sorry for staring so, Jacina. I am just re-acquainting myself with the pretty girl whose bonnet fell into the river. Come, come and sit down and tell me your story.”
He listened keenly to what Jacina had to tell him. At the end he turned his face away to hide his emotion.
“You have risked so much for me, my little helper,” he said tenderly
He walked to a cabinet and took out a bottle of brandy. He poured a glass for himself and Jacina. Then he proceeded to tell her that the other reason he had decided to pretend to be still blind was to be better able to see.
When Jacina looked puzzled, the Earl explained that when he had first opened his eyes and realised his vision was returning, Felice happened to be in the room. He saw that she was pacing the floor with boredom, now and then throwing a glance of such dislike in his direction, that he immediately knew her ‘conversion’ to the perfect and devoted wife was no more than an act.
“She realised I was awake and came to the bedside,” said the Earl. “She leaned over me and spoke in honeyed tones, but her eyes were full of resentment. She even clenched her fists as she gazed on me.”
He had no doubt then that she wished him ill and was putting on a performance so as to lull him into a false sense of security. He suspected that she harboured some ulterior motive and he decided to remain ‘blind’ until he knew what it was. That was why he had kept his chamber and the library so dark – so that people could not see him so clearly.
When the Countess suggested the trip to Switzerland he began to guess her plan. The letter that he had asked Jacina to read aloud in the library fuelled his suspicions. He knew full well that his wife did not ‘long’ for him at all.
After Jacina had left the library he had tried to read the letter himself. His sight was still not keen enough for him to make out all the words, but he noticed the large signature and recognised immediately that it was not that of the real Felice.
He searched for the letters he had received from his fiancée when he was in India, but they had disappeared. He realised that Fronard or the imposter Felice must have found them and destroyed them.
It left him with no proof with which to confront the Countess and he decided that he must continue to play along with her to see what would transpire. It was clear that whatever happened, he must travel to Switzerland to find the real Felice.
The only person who knew he was no longer blind – apart from Jacina herself – was his valet and he had told him once they were both en route to Switzerland.
“My apparent helplessness is my trump card” added the Earl. “It makes Fronard and the Countess – careless. Already I have seen Fronard.”
“You – you have seen Fronard?”
“Yes. He had the impertinence to sit near us at dinner. I knew it was him by the way he was grinning like a jackass at the Countess, believing I was totally unaware.”
Jacina thought that the Earl was very brave to be so sanguine in the face of danger.
“What will you do now?” she asked.
“I must find the real Felice. Once I have found her, their game is up. Until then I have nothing to prove that the Countess is not who she says she is. Until then I am still married to – to a woman whose true identity I do not know.”
“She is v-very beautiful, though, isn’t she?” ventured Jacina.
“Oh yes,” breathed the Earl. “Very beautiful indeed.”
Jacina hung her head. The Earl had been in the hotel a full night with the Countess. She could not but wonder if they had spent that night together. The Countess was beautiful and determined. The Earl had appetites like other men. Why should he not have succumbed, even for one night, to her undoubted charms?
The Earl was brooding. “You are a sweet fool indeed to come all this way to warn me. But as you see, I needed no warning. I knew it all.”
Tired and emotional, Jacina burst into tears.
“Oh, please do not say it was a waste of time. I have travelled for over two days without stopping. I was so frightened by the noise and bustle in London – and the sea was so rough I was sick – and I got lost in Paris finding my way to the coach – and it was so cold travelling over the mountains! Oh, do not say it was all for nothing, for upon my soul I could not bear it.”
The Earl reached for her and held her sobbing at his breast. She turned her tear stained face up to him and with a moan he leant to kiss her wet cheek.
The room seemed to whirl about her. She felt herself melting in his embrace, yielding to his hungry lips.
Then, as suddenly as he had reached for her, the Earl pushed her from him and leapt groaning to his feet.
“No, no – it cannot be! In the eyes of the world I am still a married man. And even when I unmask this imposter, remember I will still not be free. I will still be engaged to the real Felice. Remember that and help me – my dearest Jacina – my oh so pretty little helper.”
He went to the cabinet and poured himself another glass of brandy. Jacina watched him in a daze. His kisses had exhilarated her – his words had infused her like fire and ice. She did not know what to think or what to do.
There was a rap at the door and someone rattled the do
or handle. Swiftly the Earl pulled Jacina to her feet and thrust her behind a screen in the corner of the room. He walked slowly to the door – which he had taken the precaution of locking after Jacina’s arrival – and turned the key to open it.
Through the latticework of the screen, Jacina saw the Countess sail into the room, flinging her shawl onto the chaise as she passed.
“Why did you lock the door, mon cher?”
“How would I have known – if someone undesirable had entered?”
The Countess put her arms around the Earl’s neck and kissed him.
“Am I what you call – undesirable?” she said.
Her tone was teasing but Jacina saw that her eyes were hard and bright as she surveyed the Earl.
Jacina marvelled at how still the Earl held his gaze, staring over the Countess’s head as if still blind.
“No. You are not undesirable, my dear.”
“My darling!” the Countess pressed closer to the Earl. “I have come to tell you ze chateau is nearly ready. I return there tonight. Tomorrow I will finish ze preparations so it is perfect for you. And zen you come in ze evening, hein?”
“I have heard there are bandits in the mountains,” remarked the Earl with an innocent expression. “Would it not be better to travel during the day? It would not do for my valet and me to be – ambushed and killed, would it?”
The Countess pulled away from him and flounced to the mirror.
“Bandits? Zis is just a story. You will be safe.” She stood patting a few hairs back into place under her hat. “I do not see why you need zis valet at all,” she continued casually. “I will look after you so well. Why don’t you send him back to England?”
“I should prefer to keep him with me, my dear. He is familiar with my – needs.”
“But my darling,” the Countess turned and advanced on the Earl, her voice dripping honey. “When we are at ze chateau – remember – that is when we can become truly man and wife.”
Despite herself, Jacina closed her eyes in relief as she realised that the Earl had remained aloof from the Countess’s charms.
“Just imagine,” the Countess elaborated. “Ze fires will be lit and ze supper ready. It will be so beautiful – ze two of us – alone. Why not leave your valet behind just for a day or two, hein?”
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