Castle of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  The sky overhead that had seemed so bright and unsullied that morning now loomed heavily. It was swollen with snow. The Earl urged the horse on anxiously. He feared a blizzard, though he said nothing to Jacina.

  In their separate minds they were each adjusting to the pieces of the same, strange puzzle.

  It was clear that Lisette knew all about the fortunes of Felice Delisle. What she did not know before the avalanche she learned afterwards, for she was at liberty to read every single letter Felice had ever received, while Felice herself lay in a helpless coma.

  She knew that Felice was to make an excellent marriage to a man she had never met. She knew that the old Earl had bequeathed a generous sum to Felice should her husband die without issue. She even knew what Felice never knew – that Hugo Earl of Ruven had been wounded at the siege of Delhi and was blind.

  The letter containing this information had arrived in June. The news must have later seemed particularly fortuitous, for who would know what accurate description of his fiancée, Crispian, had written to his brother out in India?

  When Felice died Lisette knew everything she needed to know in order to step into the dead girl’s shoes. Once she was married to the Earl, she only had to arrange an ‘accident’ to her husband and she was in possession of a title and a large sum of money – not to mention the Ruven diamonds and other jewels that she had been given.

  Jacina shivered as a cold blast of wind roared through the ravine ahead and beset the travellers with a wild flurry of snow.

  Lisette and Fronard could not deny their evil machinations. The Earl had a village full of witnesses as to their true identity.

  Suppose however the Earl should die before he managed to unmask them publicly?

  With this new thought Jacina felt fear run through her veins like icy water. She regretted now that the Earl had not told Father Lamont the full story. If Fronard and Lisette believed the story was already public, they would not dare to do anything to the Earl. If however, only the Earl knew, then killing him was as urgent a matter as ever.

  Jacina did not for a moment consider her own position. All her fears were for the Earl.

  The Earl urged the horse on. It bent its head low against the gathering wind. The travellers entered the ravine. Jacina rested her forehead against the Earl’s back. She was comforted by the warmth she felt through his greatcoat.

  Despite her rising fear, despite the bitter cold, she was almost happy. Her body swayed with his to the undulating motion of the horse’s flanks.

  When the wind died down for a moment the ravine was as silent and icy as a tomb. The only sound came when one of the horse’s hoofs struck a stone that jutted above the snow line.

  Their progress was slow. The sky seemed to press down on them.

  As suddenly as it had ceased, the wind started up again. It came screaming down the ravine carrying a blinding mass of snow.

  They rode out from the ravine into a full blown blizzard.

  The road to Savrin was buried in snow. The blizzard whirled and shrieked about them. The horse baulked at the force being hurled against him. He could barely move forward. The Earl dismounted and took the reins.

  He would have to lead the horse and Jacina the twenty miles to Savrin.

  Then, through the icy mass in the air, the shape of a coach loomed.

  The Earl turned his face up to Jacina. “We are saved,” he breathed.

  The coach-driver who had brought them from St. Moritz to Savrin and then on to the ravine, must have anticipated their difficulties. The Earl helped Jacina from the horse as the coach drew up a few feet away.

  The coach driver was heavily muffled in a cloak and scarf. A hat was pulled low over his forehead. Only his eyes were visible. He gave no sign of greeting and some instinct made the Earl suddenly quite still, moving neither his head nor his eyes.

  The window of the coach was rolled down and a gloved hand appeared, beckoning.

  Jacina turned questioningly to the Earl. She was startled at his apparently unseeing gaze and slowly looked back at the coachman.

  Were the coachman and his companion bandits? Was the Earl playing for time?

  The hand at the carriage window still beckoned. The coachman jerked his head at Jacina.

  “You, mademoiselle!” he shouted. “You’re wanted.”

  Jacina hesitated.

  “You – Monsieur – tell her to approach the carriage.”

  “I will not,” exclaimed the Earl.

  “What’s that?” The coachman raised his whip and it lashed through the air. The Earl recoiled and put a hand to his face. Jacina gasped as she saw a thin line of blood appear on his cheek. The coachman raised his whip again, but Jacina cried out.

  “That’s enough. I – I’m going.”

  “No, Jacina!” cried the Earl, but she was already moving towards the coach. In a second she was at the carriage window.

  The gloved hand opened the carriage door and a low voice whispered, “why don’t you come in out of ze cold?”

  Jacina reeled. A rush of scent reached her from the depths of the carriage, sickly sweet as funeral lilies. In her shock she could not help but cry out,

  “M-my Lord!”

  The Earl made a move towards her, but was stopped in his tracks by the report of a gun. The sound shattered through even the hiss of the wind and the snow. The packhorse reared on its hind legs, then turned and fled back into the ravine. Jacina stared after it in despair.

  “Move another inch,” cried the voice from within the carriage, “and your little helper here dies.”

  The gloved hand was pointing a pistol directly at Jacina.

  The Earl was unable to hide the contempt in his voice as he replied,

  “A shot from one of my own pistols, I presume?”

  Lisette Gravalt leaned from the carriage window and looked up at the coachman.

  “Mon cher,” she called, “did you steal a pistol from zis gentleman’s castle?”

  “Ma chère, I did,” replied Fronard mockingly. “Such a pretty one with a pearl handle.”

  “You are a blackguard, sir!” shouted the Earl.

  “It is you who are the blackguard, monsieur,” snapped Lisette. “Last night you had a date with me but you did not keep it. This morning we went to ze hotel to find out why. Ze concierge tells us that you had a little visitor yesterday and that today you had gone in a coach together. I did not need to ask where. Rougemont, I thought. And now I find you in ze company of this – what is she in those ridiculous clothes? An old gypsy woman? You would jilt your wife for this creature? Oh, but of course – you cannot see how laide – how ugly she looks!”

  “I do not doubt,” said the Earl recklessly, “that whatever she is wearing, she has more grace, more beauty in her little finger than you have, madam, in your whole body.”

  Jacina raised her eyes in wonder to the Earl.

  Lisette’s voice blazed. “Ha! Fronard! Do you hear this fool?”

  “I do,” sneered Fronard. “Tell him I will take great pleasure in spoiling that grace, that beauty, when the time comes –”

  “What do you mean, sir?” cried the Earl.

  Lisette had collected herself. “Enough about this mademoiselle nobody. Jaceeeeeena! Just tell us, monsieur. What did you find out about us from ze helpful citizens of my little village?”

  “I found out,” said the Earl through gritted teeth, “that you are as dastardly a pair of villains as ever walked the earth.”

  Lisette regarded him with steely eyes. “Zat is a pity, monsieur. Because now I must definitely kill you and your little friend. What a poor, grieving widow I will be, with nothing but a title and money to console me.”

  “If I am found with a bullet in the head,” replied the Earl quickly, “there will be no money. I would not have died, I would have been murdered. Until it was discovered by whom, the will could not be executed.”

  Lisette and Fronard exchanged a glance.

  “The authorities will think it is bandit
s,” said Fronard. “The mountains are full of them.”

  “It is still murder,” said the Earl. “As the beneficiary of the will, madam, you would still be investigated. The authorities – would pay their own visit to Rougemont.”

  Jacina listened with mounting terror. She knew the Earl was fighting now for her life and his own, but she could imagine no way out of this dilemma.

  Lisette regarded the Earl with a worried frown, biting her lip all the while. Now suddenly she reached out and prodded Jacina with the pistol.

  “You. Get in.”

  Jacina cast a wild look at the Earl. She did not want to be parted from him. Their destiny now, terrible as it might be, was surely together.

  “My – my Lord?”

  “Get in, Jacina,” said the Earl firmly.

  Still Jacina hesitated, her heart thumping in her breast. Then she felt cold fingers sink into her hair. She gave a cry as she was yanked brutally backwards and flung onto the carriage floor.

  “Do not harm her!” cried the Earl. He lunged for the coach but the whip came whistling from above. It cut across his brow and he staggered back.

  Jacina gave a cry and tried to rise but Lisette pushed her down. Then Lisette leaned from the carriage window and laughed at the Earl.

  “I am not going to shoot you after all, dear husband,” she sneered. “I am just going to leave you here. No one will travel in zis blizzard. Your horse is gone and you cannot see. Night is coming on. You will freeze to death – or fall over ze edge of ze mountain and it will not look like murder. There will be no investigation.”

  “And – Jacina?” asked the Earl in a desperate voice.

  “Oh, we cannot leave her here with you. She has eyes, monsieur. She could help you survive. No, no, she must come with us. We will find another way of – dealing with her. Au revoir, mon cher!”

  Fronard cracked the whip and they were on their way.

  Jacina struggled up to gaze from the window. The figure of the Earl stood like stone in the swirling snow. Then he was gone.

  She sank miserably onto the seat opposite Lisette Gravalt. Her back hurt where she had fallen onto the carriage floor. Loose strands of hair hung about her face. Her mind was feverish as she tried to think of how she might help the Earl.

  Lisette was watching her, the pistol still in her hand.

  “What a pleasure to be alone together,” she smirked.

  “Believe me, the pleasure is all yours,” responded Jacina stiffly.

  Lisette gave a shriek of laughter. For the first time Jacina wondered if she was not perhaps a little mad.

  “You don’t like my company? It is not good enough for you? That is what they were always thinking. At ze school in Geneva. All ze pupils were ‘Mademoiselle’ this, ‘Mademoiselle’ that. I was only ever ‘Lisette’. ‘Lisette, bring ze tea. Lisette, clean ze blackboard’.”

  Jacina brushed a strand of hair back. She was thinking quickly. If she kept Lisette talking – if she managed to distract her – perhaps she could wrest the pistol out of her hands.

  “I am sure it was not as bad as all that,” she said.

  “Ha!” cried Lisette. “You think not? I will tell you!”

  She was fourteen when her aunt took her into the school. The other pupils were from privileged backgrounds and were indulged, yes, indulged by Madame Gravalt while she, Madame’s niece, was expected to fetch and carry. While the other girls prepared for wealthy marriages, she had to prepare to be a dull old teacher, like her aunt. This was unfair.

  She was the most beautiful girl in the school, everybody thought so. She was clever, too. She watched the other girls and learned how to walk, how to speak, how to behave like a lady of class. She listened to the pupils from England and learned how to speak English.

  Whatever she did, though, she could not please her aunt. Her aunt told her she was vain and ambitious and it would do her no good to have ideas above her station.

  “But who is ze Countess now?” screamed Lisette triumphantly. “Who has ze diamonds now?”

  Of all the girls in the school it was Felice whom Lisette resented most. Felice was the star pupil. She was so good it made Lisette sick. Madame Gravalt loved Felice more than she did her own niece. She encouraged Felice’s romance with Crispian Ruven, but when Lisette herself fell in love, with Fronard, her aunt forbade her to see him.

  “And my lover is a man,” said Lisette scornfully. “Not a pale, skinny boy like Crispian!”

  Listening intently, Jacina was thrown sideways as the coach gave a lurch. She was sitting with her back to the coach driver’s box and she could hear Fronard cursing and beating the horses. The creatures were struggling valiantly, but the wind was fierce and the blizzard was like icy needles in their flesh. The coach was moving in a cumbrous fashion.

  Lisette did not seem to notice. Her eyes glittered as she continued her tale.

  When Felice’s fiancé died and Felice became ill and went away to a sanatorium, Lisette was glad to be rid of her. She did not even mind when her aunt took her to Rougemont to live. There were no other girls for her aunt to continually compare her with and her workload was less. Her lover came to a nearby town to be close to her and she was often able to sneak out and see him. She was sure her aunt would eventually come round to the idea of her and Fronard marrying.

  Then Felice recovered from her illness and came to live with Madame Gravalt in Rougemont. Lisette was incensed. Not only was Felice back to absorb all Madame Gravalt’s attention, she had meanwhile acquired another rich and titled fiancé.

  “But then at last ze Gods were with me!”

  “W-what do you mean?” asked Jacina.

  Lisette’s eyes burned like torches. “What flies without wings, hits without hands, and sees without eyes?”

  “I am sure I – do not know.”

  “The White Death,” cried Lisette. “The avalanche! It was sent so that I could at last find a way out of these mountains, and this little, little life!”

  Jacina heart grew chill at these words and she shivered.

  “Oh,” said Lisette haughtily, “you are cold are you, with your thin passionless blood? Here!” She drew a small flask from her purse and threw it across the carriage.

  It was brandy. Jacina sipped gratefully, eyeing Lisette as she did so. Was this the moment? As she handed the flask back, could she grasp at the pistol? With this intent in mind, she half rose from her seat but Lisette was too quick. “Oh, no. Just throw it on the seat beside me.”

  The pistol was levelled directly at Jacina’s brow. Jacina did as she was instructed.

  “You think I am stupid, hein?” Lisette asked with amusement.

  Jacina shrugged. She had no intention of replying, but at that moment her eye caught movement on the road behind. She vaguely discerned the shape of a horse and rider through the driving snow.

  Her heart gave a lurch. Who else could it be in this isolated area but the Earl? His horse had not gone far into the ravine – or had returned of its own accord – and he was now in pursuit of the coach. He had managed to catch up with them because the coach was moving so slowly.

  She looked back at Lisette. She must keep her kidnapper’s attention occupied.

  “No,” she said slowly. “I do not think you are stupid. I think you are very, very clever. Reading all those letters while Felice was in a coma – gathering all the information – playing your part so wonderfully in Castle Ruven. Who could have guessed that you were not Felice herself?”

  Lisette’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Only you,” she said. “Only you suspected something. But for your meddling, our plan would have gone so smoothly. And for that, you are going to pay with your life.”

  At that moment there was a thump on the roof of the coach. Lisette’s head jerked up. “What was that?”

  “A stone, I am sure,” said Jacina. From the window she could see the horse falling riderless behind. The Earl was on the coach!

  Lisette’s eyes narrowed. She was uncertain. Then there
came the sound of a struggle from the coachman’s box. The coach began to lurch wildly from side to side. Lisette rushed to the window and leaned out, twisting her body round so that she could point the pistol at the box. Jacina saw the pistol waver as it followed the movement of the figures fighting above.

  She must seize her chance. She leaped up and grabbed at Lisette’s arm, trying to drag it back in through the window. With her free hand Lisette attempted to hold her at arm’s length. They struggled for a moment and then a shot rang out, reverberating from peak to peak. There was a groan and a body fell through the air, landing with a soft thud into the thick snow.

  It was Fronard.

  Lisette dropped the pistol and gave a wild shriek, like an animal pierced by an arrow. She flung herself from the still moving coach, and ran to his body.

  “He is dead, he is dead,” she shrieked. “I have killed him!”

  The coach lurched to a halt and the Earl jumped down. He scooped up the pistol and moved swiftly over to Lisette and the prone Fronard.

  Jacina was shaking as she climbed from the carriage. She waited shivering by the carriage door.

  Lisette was covering Fronard’s face with kisses. The Earl placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Come madam,” he said. “There is nothing you can do here.”

  Lisette wrenched herself free and staggered to her feet, staring at him in bewilderment.

  “You – you can see!”

  “Yes, madam, I can see.”

  Lisette threw her head back with a loud moan. The Earl put out his hand.

  “Let me lead you to the coach,” he said.

  “No, no!” Lisette stared wildly around like an animal trying to find a way out of a trap.

  The Earl insisted. “Madam, you must.”

  “To go where?” cried Lisette. “To prison? To a life without my Phillipe? No, never. Never.”

  She began to edge away from the Earl.

  “Look out – take care!” warned the Earl with a frown.

  Lisette did not heed him. She turned and stumbled into the blinding snow. There was a rattle of loose rocks – a plunging scream – and Lisette was gone.