The Irish Witch

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The Irish Witch Page 6

by Dennis Wheatley


  ‘Indeed, you are right. The fire could have been no ordinary accident, occurring as it did at the critical moment. And, apart from having saved us, I do thank the good Lord that Captain Hawksbury took me there tonight, for it brought about your having to sever your connection with that abominable woman.’

  Charles nodded. ‘Yes. It seems that unwittingly you have played the part of my guardian angel.’

  After a moment he added, ‘It can as yet be barely two o’clock, so when we get home they will still be dancing; but some of the older guests may have started to leave. It would be awkward to encounter any of them, dressed as we are, so we’ll go in by the tradesmen’s entrance. Fortunately, I have a key to it. With luck we’ll get up the back stairs to our rooms without being seen by any of the servants; but we may run into one of them. If so, we’d best start talking of a masque at Covent Garden, implying that we have returned after spending an hour there with friends.’

  ‘I’d as lief no-one saw me dressed as a novice,’ Susan replied, pulling off her coif. ‘Let down the window so that I can throw this out, and the robe after it. Then, if I’m seen, I’ll be ordinarily dressed.’

  While Charles did as she asked, he said quickly. ‘Of course. What a fool I am to have supposed that Hawksbury would have risked suggesting you should rid yourself of your dress and petticoats in the ladies’ room, as did the other women before putting on their nuns’ robes. I’ll have to keep mine on, though, for I had to leave my coat, waistcoat and breeches with my cloak in the men’s closet.’

  ‘So you had made ready for the fray,’ Susan remarked acidly. Then she went on, ‘If we do meet any of the servants, they’ll not think it so strange that you have exchanged your cloak for a friar’s robe as they would if they saw me dressed to take vows in a convent.’

  As she spoke, she was wriggling out of her white novice’s attire, and she shivered from the blast of the chilly air now coming through the open window. Up till that moment her mind had been so agitated that she had not realised that she had left her furlined cloak behind. Now she spoke of her loss with bitter anger, wondering how she could possibly explain its disappearance to Georgina. But when she had thrown her white garments out of the window and Charles had pulled it up again, he promised to go out before midday and buy a similar robe for her.

  At that she said in a calmer voice, ‘Charles, it would be most generous of you to do so, since ‘tis no fault of yours that I had to abandon such an expensive garment. I’ll admit now that I was plaguey foolish to let Captain Hawksbury take me off on my own; and, but for your presence in that house, God alone knows what might have befallen me.’

  ‘Then let us have no more recriminations, and say no more about it,’ he replied. Putting his arm about her, he kissed her gently and they completed their drive back to Berkeley Square in silence.

  On entering the square, Charles told his coachman to drive round the corner into Bruton Street. Before handing Susan out, he took three guineas from his purse, gave them to the man and said:

  ‘Here, Jennings, is money enough to keep your mouth busy for a long time with good ale; so you’ll not open it to mention to anyone that Miss Brook and I tonight attended a masquerade. Is that understood?’

  The man gave a broad grin. ‘Indeed it is, m’ lord, and I thank ‘e for this generous present. Hope be I’ll drive you and the young mistress to enjoy many a good lark, and never a word will pass me lips ’bout it.’

  Confident that the man would not now tell his fellow servants about the night’s doings, Charles led Susan through the mews to the entrance at the back of the mansion. Unlocking the door, he opened it cautiously and peered inside. No-one was about, so he whispered to her to follow him in, and together they tiptoed up the back stairs. On the landing that gave on to their bedrooms, he said in a low voice:

  ‘It will take me only a few minutes to put on suitable clothes, but longer for you to redo your hair, so when I’m dressed I’ll come for you; then we’ll go down together as though we had been sitting out a dance.’

  Five minutes later he joined her in her bedroom and sat in a chair until she had finished making herself presentable.

  When she had done, she turned to him and said:

  ‘Dearest Charles. On the latter part of our drive home I did some serious thinking. That I should have caused the Hell Fire Club to be barred to you in future I have no regrets. But I realise that, as a man, you must satisfy your passions and, as I told you this morning, I now feel a similar urge. Even if we refrain from telling each other of those with whom we indulge ourselves, neither of us can escape thinking of the other in such situations, and that will cause misery to us both. Rather than we should suffer that, I have changed my mind about insisting that I should enjoy another year of freedom to flirt with whom I will. Instead I have decided to accept your proposal that we should marry in the Spring.’

  Sadly Charles shook his head. ‘Alas, my love. I would we could, but it is now too late. Come Spring, I shall no longer be in England.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Charles, what … whatever do you mean?’

  His face suddenly became grim. ‘You must have heard the taunt that Hawksbury flung at me after he had pushed me over into the gutter. He as good as called me coward, because while claiming to be a man well versed in the use of weapons, I was skulking in England instead of going to the war against our enemies in the Peninsula. The round of easy pleasures here have so filled my mind that such a thought had never before entered it. But he was right. It is my intention, no later than this coming afternoon, to see my trustees and have them purchase for me a commission in the Guards.’

  5

  A Tangled Skein

  It was getting on towards mid-January, and a few mornings after Roger had learnt to his fury that, unless the Cape Cod chanced to meet with a British ship-of-war, he and Mary would be carried off to America, that Lady Luggala was sitting up in bed drinking her morning chocolate and Jemima came into her room.

  No-one unacquainted with them would have taken the two women for mother and daughter. Maureen Luggala had kept her figure, but her brown hair was streaked with grey, her pale blue eyes had crow’s-feet round them and she looked considerably older than Charles had taken her to be when he had seen her masked and rouged at the Hell Fire Club.

  Jemima’s hair was black, so were her heavy eyebrows, but her eyes were a deep blue, her complexion milk and roses and her full-lipped mouth sensuously attractive. She was tall, with a big bosom and hips, but narrow waist and carried herself well. With a cat-like grace she settled herself on a chaise-longue opposite the bed and flicked the skirts of her chamber-robe across her shapely legs.

  The ‘little season’ was in full swing and the previous night they had both attended a ball given by Lord Ponsonby. Having greeted each other, the elder asked:

  ‘Well, child, did you chance to learn anything of importance last night?’

  Jemima shrugged. ‘Little of value, Young Gorton told me that his regiment, the 42nd, is to form another battalion and he hopes to purchase a Captaincy in it. A Naval Lieutenant, who had landed at Portsmouth only two days since, bored me to distraction by an account of hardships endured in the Channel these winter months. His name I disremember, but his ship was the Intrepid, so she will be off station for several weeks while refitting. Out of Robert Henage I had hoped to get some tidings of Sweden’s changing attitude, as he is in the Northern Department of the Foreign Office. On that account I gave him three dances and, half-way through the last, let him whisk me up to a room on the second floor. But his mind was so filled with the hope of seducing me that he’d give not a moment to serious conversation.’

  ‘He is a valuable source, so I trust that you have kept him on a string by at least letting him hope that on some future occasion.…’

  ‘No.’ Jemima’s voice was sullen. ‘I did not even permit him the usual familiarities.’

  ‘That is unlike you,’ Lady Luggala remarked acidly.

  ‘I admit it. Sin
ce half a loaf is better than no bread, and it is essential that I should protect myself from becoming known as a society whore by letting men go the whole way with me. But I was in no mood to have him frig me.’

  ‘Why this sudden reluctance, and the aggrieved state of mind you still display this morning?’

  ‘Because last night I was mightily disturbed concerning my own prospects. During a dance with Charles St. Ermins he exploded a bombshell beneath me. He told me that only that morning he had seen the Commander-in-Chief at the Horse Guards, who has arranged a commission for him in the Coldstream Guards.’

  Lady Luggala sat up with a jerk and exclaimed in consternation, ‘It cannot be true! And this without a word of warning?’

  Jemima nodded. ‘I’ve seen him half a dozen times since Christmas, and he gave me not a hint of his intention.’

  ‘But this is terrible. It means that within a few months he may be sent to the Peninsula.’

  ‘In a matter of weeks, more like. He made it clear that he has not joined the Army simply to strut about in a fine uniform. He is going to the war as soon as he can get there. And, as he has influence, they will not keep him here for long.’

  ‘Then, child, you must work fast, or you will lose him. Let him seduce you at the first opportunity. Then he’ll feel in honour bound to become engaged to you. If fortune favours us, we might even rush the marriage through before he leaves for Portugal.’

  ‘Do you think me such a fool that I have not thought of that?’ Jemima’s voice was angry. ‘But my chances of doing so are slender. As soon as he has his uniforms he is leaving London for Canterbury to start his initial training.’

  Lady Luggala wrung her hands. ‘Oh, my! Oh, my! Just to think that after all we may lose him. I’ve thought so much on it. Yourself a Countess, and all his riches. His mansion in Berkeley Square and White Knights Park with its thousands of acres. His mother, too, is worth a mint of money. Two husbands have left her fortunes, and her father yet another. Charles is her only child and she dotes on him. When she dies, he will be one of the wealthiest men in the three Kingdoms.’

  ‘Stop!’ Jemima snapped. ‘I know it all. But for months you have been counting your chickens before the eggs were even warm from the hen’s bottom. Charles likes me, finds me amusing and good company. I’ve given him cause, too, to know that I’d be all that he could wish for in bed. But he has never yet even got as far as hinting that one day he might ask my hand in marriage.’

  ‘Yet recently he has shown his preference for your company over that of all other young women. The frequency with which he escorts Susan Brook counts for nothing. They were brought up together, and the attentions he pays her are no more than those to be expected from an affectionate brother.’

  ‘You are right in that I credited myself with a good lead in the St. Ermins stakes and, given another London season, might have been first past the post. But now all is altered. How in a week or so can I possibly secure him? Unless … yes, I have it. You must seek the help of the Irish witch.’

  ‘Alas!’ Lady Luggala sadly shook her head. ‘She lacks the means to help us. Had all gone well on New Year’s Eve we would have had him in our power. We laid a pretty plot. She fixed the draw so that he should be my partner. In my nun’s robe I had concealed a small pair of scissors with intent, when we had had a frolic, to snip off a small tuft of his pubic hair. I should have told him that it was my custom to secure such a souvenir from every man who enjoyed me; so he would not have objected. With that in our possession and a tuft from your own bush we could have cast a spell that would have made him crazy to have you; and, naturally, your price would have been marriage.

  ‘But, as I told you afterwards, all was brought to ruin. And by Charles himself, through that fool Hawksbury having brought young Susan there without telling her what to expect, and making certain that she would prove an eager witness to our ritual. Since the little prude objected, and Charles looks on her as a sister, one can hardly blame him for carrying her off. That he should have acted as he did proved disastrous. We were lucky to have saved Bast, and that the men got the fire under control as quickly as they did.’

  Jemima was silent for a moment, then she said, ‘I appreciate your good intentions on my behalf, but take it hard that you have always refused to have me made an initiate of the club. That Susan, although she proved unwilling, should have been put forward rankles with me still more, for she is only seventeen, whereas I am twenty.’

  ‘I had my reasons for refusing you. And why complain? Ever since I chanced upon you being straddled by that stable boy in Ireland, you have never lacked for lovers.’

  ‘True. But what lovers! To protect my reputation I never dare let a man of quality have me, lest he talk. I am compelled to make do with that bean-pole of a music master once a week, who would never dare tell of it lest he was prosecuted for slander and found himself in the stocks. How infinitely more enjoyable I’d find it to participate in these luxurious orgies you have told me of.’

  ‘That I understand, although I blame myself now for having spoken to you so freely on these matters. Had I in fact been your mother, I would never have done so. But the major interests in both our lives are the same—to free our dear Ireland from the tyranny of the hated English and to enjoy to the full our amorous encounters. There is no-one else I could trust to be my confidante and I’m sure that you, as well as myself, have greatly enjoyed discussing our experiences.’

  ‘I have indeed,’ Jemima agreed more warmly. ‘Since that day when I was little over fifteen and you caught me being tumbled by young Conan, you have taught me much. Had it not been for your prompt dosing of me with ergot of rye, I’d have had a child by him and, on the few occasions since when over-eagerness has led me to be careless, you have got me out of trouble. But, knowing my love of variety in licentious pleasures, I still cannot understand why you refuse to have me initiated into the Hell Fire Club.’

  ‘It is not I who refuse, but your mother.’

  Jemima’s blue eyes opened wide.

  Lady Luggala gave a gasp of dismay. ‘There! Oh, Satan help me! By throwing me into a tizzy about Charles going off to the war and our losing him, you’ve led me into disclosing that she is not dead, as I’d given you to understand.’

  Springing up from the chaise-longue, Jemima cried, ‘Who is she? Who is she? I insist that you tell me.’

  ‘No, child! No! That I cannot do. I am sworn to secrecy.’

  ‘’Tis too late!’ Jemima flared. ‘To me it is a secret no longer. Who could have refused your request that I should be initiated into the Hell Fire Club? Only one person. The Irish witch. It is she who is my mother.’

  Tears had filled the older woman’s eyes. Stifling a sob she murmured, ‘How can I deny it! But long since we agreed that we would always keep it from you lest you inadvertently gave it away, and so spoiled your chances of an advantageous marriage by everyone believing you to be the daughter of myself and an Irish baronet.’

  Jemima had gone white, and she was biting her lower lip. Suddenly she broke out, ‘I want the whole story. Everything! Everything about my birth.’

  ‘That I refuse to tell you, girl,’ Lady Luggala replied angrily. ‘It is not my secret.’

  ‘Very well, then,’ Jemima retorted with equal anger. ‘I’ll go to my mother and find out. I’ll go this very afternoon.’ Then she flounced out of the room.

  At three o’clock a hackney coach set Jemima down in front of the house in Islington. When a footman answered the door to her ring, she said, ‘I am Miss Jemima Luggala and I wish to see your mistress on a matter of importance.’

  The man bowed. ‘You are expected, Miss.’ Having taken her furs, he said, ‘Be pleased to follow me,’ then led her to a charmingly-furnished boudoir overlooking a small garden at the back of the house. The witch was sitting there, looking like no witch that Jemima had ever imagined, but a beautiful, imposing lady dressed in a flower-patterned satin gown with white lace fichus over her full breasts.

&nb
sp; As Jemima’s mouth fell open in surprise, the witch smiled and said, ‘Come in, my child, and seat yourself on the other side of the fire. It is surprised you are by my appearance. No doubt you supposed me to be an evil-looking old crone. But Lucifer can prevent the appearance of lines in the faces of his votaries, which come with age in other women.’

  ‘I …’ Jemima stammered. ‘I hadn’t expected … expected to find you so beautiful.’

  ‘It is happy I am to reciprocate the compliment, although I am not surprised by your good looks, for I have seen you many times in my crystal. Now look you in the mirror over the mantel.’

  As Jemima obeyed, a thing by which she had already been struck was brought home to her more forcibly. Except that her black eyebrows did not quite meet over her nose and it was less arched, she was extraordinarily like her mother.

  ‘You see now,’ the witch went on, ‘why I refused to allow Maureen Luggala to make you one of us.’

  ‘You mean on account of my resemblance to you? But she told me that everyone who attends your meetings does so masked.’

  ‘That is true. But whilst in the throes of passion, masks can slip or their strings snap. Such accidents do not occur often, yet they have been known to at times. I meant to run no risk that you would be recognised by some gallant who might afterwards talk and so perhaps spoil the plan I had made with Maureen for you to become the Countess of St. Ermins.’

 

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