“Of course they did! But he said he had no instructions to do anything about those who looked after the house.”
“So what happened?” Lord Cheriton asked.
“They struggled in vain to find other posts and when their cottages were taken from them, they – moved into Larks Hall.”
“They came to live here?”
Wivina nodded.
“It was Mrs. Briggs who thought of it, because she was determined not to move.
“‘I comes here as a scullery-maid, miss,’ she said to me once, ‘and when I goes it’ll be feet first in me coffin!’”
Lord Cheriton smiled, then he asked:
“And where do you come in?”
“My father – the Vicar of the Parish – died four years ago.”
“I am sorry.”
“It was an – accident.”
There was a little pause before the last word and Lord Cheriton looked at her speculatively as he repeated,
“An accident?”
“It – must have been– although I have so often – thought – ”
She stopped once again and he knew that she was putting a check on her words. After a moment she went on,
“My brother and I were left with very little money.
“Your brother?”
“Yes, my brother, Richard. He is seventeen now, but then he was only thirteen and had just had a fall out riding.”
Wivina’s voice was unhappy, as she continued,
“He broke his leg and it was wrongly set, or perhaps the fracture was a complicated one, I don’t know, but anyway ever since then he has been crippled and walks with a limp.”
“That must be very unfortunate for him,” Lord Cheriton said gravely.
“It is,” she answered, “and he hates not being able to do all the things other boys do, but fortunately he is very clever.”
She gave a little sigh, then almost to herself she said,
“If only he could go to University, it would mean everything to him, but of course it is impossible.”
“Because you cannot afford it?”
She smiled at him as if he was a rather stupid child.
“When my father’s affairs were cleared up, we found that Richard and I had under one hundred pounds a year on which to live. We could hardly pay the fees of a University out of that.”
“No, of course not,” Lord Cheriton agreed.
Wivina made a little gesture with both her hands as she said:
“So we came to live here.”
She spoke very simply. Then, as if he would not understand, she explained,
“The new Vicar is very kind to Richard. He teaches him for nothing and we are deeply grateful. But we could not expect him also to keep us at the Vicarage.”
“I suppose not.”
“And this house is so large. Do you know that there are eighty bedrooms here?”
“Room for you all,” Lord Cheriton said.
“A great many of the ceilings have fallen. I cannot bear it when I hear a thud in the night, because I know that either the exquisite paintings on them are ruined or the plasterwork is all over the floor and can never be replaced.”
There was a note in her voice which told Lord Cheriton that she really minded.
“I think you love this house,” he said aloud.
“Yes, I love it. I have always loved it,” Wivina answered. “I used to come here when I was a very little girl. It seemed to me like a fairy Palace. Then after Lord Cheriton died it seemed so sad that everything should get dirty and dusty and there should be cobwebs everywhere.”
She gave a quick glance at Lord Cheriton before she said,
“Mrs. Briggs’s niece had nowhere to go after her husband was killed fighting in Portugal.”
“So she is living here too?”
Wivina nodded.
“She was so grateful for a home and she said she would clean the place up. As you see, it now looks a little like it must have done years ago when Lady Cheriton was alive.”
“You knew her?” Lord Cheriton enquired.
He asked the question without thinking, then realised it was a silly one.
“I must have been six or seven when she died,” Wivina reflected, “but I remember seeing her in Church and thinking how beautiful she was. In fact I used to think that angels must look just like her.”
Lord Cheriton was silent.
After a moment Wivina went on,
“There is a picture of her upstairs. After she died and Lord Cheriton was too ill to leave his bedroom, I used to creep into the house to look at it and pray that one day I would be like her. She was very kind and everyone in the village loved her.”
That was true, Lord Cheriton thought, but they had hated his father, loathed and detested him!
He remembered when he passed in his carriage how he had seen the villagers shaking their fists at him and swearing beneath their breath.
His thoughts had carried him away from Wivina for a moment and now he realised that she was looking at him, an expression of pleading in her blue eyes.
“Now you understand,” she said, “that if you turn us away we shall, none of us – Mrs. Briggs, Rouse, Pender, Emma, Richard, and I – have anywhere to go.
“Please – please don’t tell Lord Cheriton. He is hard and cruel like his father and he does not care if we starve to death.”
“How do you know he is like that?” Lord Cheriton asked sharply.
“How can he be anything else,” Wivina asked, “when he has sentenced this house – this lovely – beautiful old house to die?”
Chapter Two
There was silence for a moment, then Wivina said in a different tone of voice,
“I am – sorry. I should not have spoken like – that. It was – wrong of me.”
“I think if one feels very deeply about anything,” Lord Cheriton replied, “one speaks the truth and that is what I would prefer to hear.”
Again there was silence, then Wivina said,
“I know that the late Lord Cheriton was a very hard, cruel man. Mrs. Briggs has told me how his son, John, ran away and no one ever heard of him again – but I suppose there are excuses for him.”
“I don’t know what they could be,” Lord Cheriton said dryly.
“Papa said that men were cruel to others when they themselves had suffered and were still suffering. He always tried to understand Lord Cheriton’s behaviour and to help him.”
“And did he succeed?”
Lord Cheriton thought that this was a conversation he had never expected to have with anyone.
He had hated his father for so many years that he had never envisaged there could be any excuse for his intolerable behaviour.
“Papa thought that he had failed,” Wivina admitted, “and that was why he blessed the house.”
“Blessed the house?” Lord Cheriton ejaculated in astonishment.
Wivina clasped her fingers together in her lap and Lord Cheriton knew that she was nervous as she said in a very low voice,
“You will not understand –but both Papa and I believed that a house that was so old must mirror the – feelings and emotions of everyone who had lived in it.”
She looked at him swiftly, then away again as if embarrassed by what she had to say, but felt she had to say it.
“So many generations of different people have lived at Larks Hall, some good, some bad, and when I am alone here I can – feel the atmosphere they – left still on the air and in the – rooms they occupied.”
As if she thought she was being too revealing, she rose to her feet to move across the room and stand looking out the window into the sunshine.
Once again her head was haloed in gold and, looking at her slim figure, Lord Cheriton thought she seemed insubstantial and ethereal – a being from another world.
“To me the bedroom where the late Lord Cheriton slept until he died seemed – dark and frightening,” Wivina said in a low voice.
Lord Cheriton stared.
/>
It was what he felt himself, but he had never imagined anyone else would feel the same.
“I told Papa what I felt,” Wivina went on, “and I knew he agreed although he would not admit it.”
“So he blessed the rooms and exorcised the evil spirits who occupied them?”
There was just a touch of mockery in Lord Cheriton’s voice, but Wivina answered him seriously,
“He blessed every room in the house and since then the evil is gone and there is only happiness.”
She turned round as she spoke and walked back towards him.
“I don’t expect you to – believe me,” she said, “but I felt I had to – explain why I spoke as I did.”
“I am trying to understand, Miss Compton, but perhaps I find it hard to believe that prayer can be so powerful.”
“It of course – depends upon who–says the prayers.”
There was just a faint smile on Wivina’s lips as she spoke and Lord Cheriton made a gesture with his hand as if acknowledging defeat.
“You have certainly given me something to think about, Miss Compton.”
“And you will not – tell Lord Cheriton that we are –here?”
“Perhaps I can see the rest of the house,” Lord Cheriton suggested. “I would be interested to see how it has survived when the intention was to let it fall down.”
“Yes, of course, I will show you round,” Wivina agreed, “if it will not take up too much of your time.”
There was something in the way she spoke that made Lord Cheriton think she was eager to be rid of him.
“I am in no hurry,” he replied, “and, as it happens, seeing what a charming part of the world this is, I was wondering, now that the war is over, if I might settle here.”
“Settle – here?”
There was no doubt that she was startled by the suggestion.
“I might farm a few acres of land,” Lord Cheriton said reflectively. “After fighting for so long, I need peace and the company of pleasant neighbours.”
He saw that what he was saying agitated her. ]
“There is nothing here to let or to sell,” she said quickly. “But I am sure you will find something farther along the coast.”
“Larkswell is a very beautiful village.”
“Yes, but it is very small. We have few neighbours.”
“No country Squires? No aristocratic houses such as this used to be?”
“No, none – none at all,” Wivina said positively.
“You are certainly not welcoming me to your neighbourhood, Miss Compton.”
“I am sorry – but I assure you it would be – best for you to look elsewhere.”
“How can you be sure of that? I was thinking as I rode here how delightful the countryside was and the fields through which I passed seemed quite fertile.”
“I promise you – ”
There was a sudden interruption as from the hall there came the sound of a man’s voice.
“Wivina! Where are you, Wivina?”
At the sound, the blood seemed to drain from Wivina’s face, leaving her curiously and unnaturally pale.
“There is – someone wanting – me,” she said unnecessarily. “Wait – here.”
Her voice was breathless.
Then, moving so quickly across the salon that she almost seemed to fly, she pulled open the door and went through it, closing it behind her.
There was hardly a pause before Lord Cheriton rose to his feet and, moving as swiftly as Wivina had done, reached the door.
With his ear against it he heard a man say,
“Why is there a horse outside?”
“It belongs to a stranger. He was passing the house and came in before I was aware he was here.”
“Get rid of him!”
It was an order, sharp and peremptory.
Very very softly Lord Cheriton turned the handle of the door.
He had noticed when Wivina had shut it that it had not squeaked and in fact there had been no sound other than the actual closing of the door itself.
It took him only a second to get the door ajar so that he could hear better and could see with one eye through the narrow crack.
Standing in the centre of the hall was a man elaborately dressed but still wearing his high hat on the side of his head.
Wivina was standing in front of him, twisting her fingers as Lord Cheriton realised she did when she was agitated.
He heard her say now,
“I am trying to send him away – but he – knows Lord Cheriton.”
“The devil he does!” the man ejaculated. “In which case, all the more reason to speed his departure.”
“I know – I understand – but if I seem too anxious he might become – suspicious.”
There was a pause after she had said this and the man in the hall turned his face sideways and Lord Cheriton could see his profile.
Between thirty and thirty-five years of age, he had a coarse and yet at the same time an unusual face. His nose was long, the line of his lips was cruel, and even through the crack in the door Lord Cheriton realised that his expression was an unpleasant one.
“Make every effort to dissuade him from being interested in you or the house,” the man said after some thought.
“He talks of finding – somewhere in the neighbourhood to – settle down.”
“I’ll make sure he finds nothing!”
There was something almost savage in the words.
Then, as if he was in a hurry to be gone, the man said,
“I’ve brought you a present.”
“I don’t want your presents,” Wivina replied sharply.
“Nonsense!” the man replied. “There’s the usual tea, and a keg of something a little stronger for those crumbling old ruins in the kitchen – and for you something special!”
“I will not accept it, and you are not to give Rouse any more to drink. He gets so stupid on it and anyway it makes him ill.”
“A dram or two of gin hurts no one.”
“I don’t agree with you. It is bad for the men and I have a suspicion that Emma is getting a liking for it.”
The man laughed and it was not a pleasant sound.
“You ought to be grateful because I’m saving you money.”
“We can manage without your help.”
“You can’t manage to buy yourself a new gown. Here’s some sprig muslin that could only have come from Paris. You’ll look very beautiful in it.”
There was a caressing note in the man’s voice now and Wivina gave a little cry.
“Do you really think I would allow you to give me clothes? Take it away and give it to the girls who lie waiting for your men when you come back from one of your infamous journeys.”
The man laughed again.
“It amuses me when you spit at me like an angry kitten! When you see what I’ve brought you, you’ll be woman enough to realise that it’s time you discarded your rags and looked like a lady.”
“I am a lady!” Wivina said fiercely. “And a lady does not accept such presents from any – man.”
“Unless he’s her husband!”
Lord Cheriton realised that Wivina shuddered.
Then the man said,
“Perhaps you’ll be more interested in what I’ve brought for Richard – three books in French! Two are what he has been wanting to read for some time and the other is what he should be reading at his age.”
“If it is one of those disgusting French books you have offered him before, you can take it away,” Wivina said angrily. “Leave my brother alone. I will not have him corrupted by you!”
“It’s time Richard was a man and who better to teach him to behave like one than me?”
“Leave him alone!” Wivina stormed. “I hate you! Do you hear? I hate you!”
“We’ll talk about that another time,” the man said. “You’re looking very lovely today, Wivina! If I was not in such a hurry I’d stay and tell you how much you attract me, but I may drop in tomo
rrow.”
“Stay away!” Wivina said. “Stay away from me and –from Richard!”
She turned on her heel as she spoke, and Lord Cheriton just had time to cross the salon and resume his seat by the hearth.
As she came back into the room, he saw that she was still very pale and in her eyes there was a look of fear which he had seen before when very young men went into battle for the first time.
“I am – sorry to be so – long,” she said as she joined him at the end of the room, “but someone called – unexpectedly to see me.”
“A neighbour?” Lord Cheriton asked.
“Yes.”
“I thought you said you had very few neighbours.”
“Mr. Farlow has built a house two miles from here on the coast.”
“Farlow?” Lord Cheriton repeated. “I seem to know that name. Is it well known in these parts?”
“He is well known,” Wivina answered almost harshly, “but his father – ”
She stopped suddenly and after a moment Lord Cheriton said,
“You were about to tell me who Mr. Farlow’s father was.”
“It can be of no interest to you,” Wivina replied, “but, as it happens, he was a shopkeeper in – Havant.”
She spoke as though the words were dragged from her.
Then with what Lord Cheriton knew was a considerable effort she said,
“If you would like to see the house, I will show it to you. Then I am sure you would wish to be on your way to Dover.”
Lord Cheriton did not move.
“As it happens,” he said, “I was thinking when you left me just now that, as I have come a long distance today already, it would be sheer cruelty to take my horse any farther.”
There was a pause before he added,
“I have sent my servant to The Dog and Duck to ask if they can accommodate us for the night.”
He realised that Wivina was looking at him in sheer terror, but after a moment she said,
“There are no suitable rooms at The Dog and Duck.”
“Then I wonder,” Lord Cheriton said tentatively, “since I know Lord Cheriton, if it would be possible for my man and me to stay here tonight?”
He saw the consternation in her eyes and added,
“I am quite prepared to sleep on the floor or even in a barn, if you prefer. We have slept in far worse places in Spain, I can assure you.”
Love and the Loathsome Leopard Page 3