She knew that if her mother had been alive, they would now be planning her debut in London.
Then she would have been presented at a Drawing Room in Buckingham Palace, but now she was in deep mourning and there would be no presentation and no balls.
Nor were there the invitations she might have had from her mother’s and D’Arcy’s friends in the County.
To be in deep mourning was a fashion set by Queen Victoria and Belinda looked dolefully at her black gowns and longed to throw them away.
She did not realise that they accentuated the whiteness of her skin and the gold of her hair, but all they did was to remind her that she had lost both her father and her mother.
She was now all alone, day after day, week after week.
Then D’Arcy came back.
She thought he seemed much more like his old self, being witty and making her laugh.
He told her stories about the parties that were taking place in London and he told her of the plays being performed in the theatres and who were the latest beauties to captivate the Social world.
However, he did not stay long.
Before he left, although he said nothing to Belinda, she was aware that he had taken her mother’s jewellery from the safe.
The day he was leaving she said to him,
“I hope, Step-Papa, you will give me some money before you go. The servants have not been paid their wages for two weeks.”
She paused a moment and sighed before continuing,
“There is also a very fine horse for sale that I would like to buy to replace Rufus, who is getting old. Perhaps you could have a look at him before you leave tomorrow?”
For a moment there was silence.
Then D’Arcy Rowland replied,
“I realise Rufus is getting a bit long in the tooth, but frankly, my dear, we cannot afford to buy any more horses at the moment.”
Belinda looked at her stepfather in surprise.
She had never worried about money.
She had always known that her father was well off.
They could have anything they wanted, although their tastes were certainly not extravagant.
She did not speak, but she guessed that her stepfather guessed what she was thinking.
“I have been going through a rather bad patch lately,” he said as if he must explain. “I lost a packet on several dead certainties and I have not been particularly fortunate with baccarat just when it is essential that I should be!”
“But surely there is money in the bank?” Belinda questioned.
There was an uncomfortable silence before D’Arcy Rowland replied,
“Actually we are overdrawn, and the Bank Manager has written to ask me to put things straight as soon as possible.”
It was then, like a flash of lightning, that Belinda knew why her stepfather had taken her mother’s jewellery from the safe.
She had not liked to ask him the reason, although she knew he had taken it. She had thought that perhaps he intended to have it reset for her to wear.
Without stopping to think, she said the first words that came into her head.
“And so you are selling Mama’s jewellery? Oh – no! No! You cannot do that!”
Her stepfather went to the window and stood with his back to her.
“I am sorry, Belinda, but I have to. It is not only the bank, but I also owe money in the Club which, as you know, is a debt of honour.”
Belinda drew in her breath.
Her father had explained to her a long time ago what a debt of honour meant to a gentleman. Most important was that he should never owe money to a fellow member of his Club or to a brother Officer.
Then neither of them spoke for a long time.
Then Belinda asked in a frightened whisper,
“W-what are you – going to do?”
Captain D’Arcy turned round and he was smiling.
“You are not to worry yourself,” he said. “I will see to it. I shall have some money by next week and I will come back here. If the horse you want is still for sale, I will buy it for you.”
He paused before he added,
“You might tell the owner that is what I intend to do.”
“You are sure you will be able to do that?” Belinda asked him eagerly.
“Of course I am sure!” he answered. “Has my luck ever failed me?”
He put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek.
“You are a good girl,” he said. “Once you are out of mourning and don’t have to look like a dismal crow, I will see that you are asked to all the smartest balls and that all my friends in London give dinner parties for you.”
Belinda knew that the friends to whom he referred were the women he had spent his time with before he had fallen in love with her mother.
Once or twice Virginia had mentioned it to her daughter.
“All your stepfather’s lady friends are jealous of me,” she had sighed, “and I find it very flattering that he should have left them for me.”
“He loves you, Mama!” Belinda said softly.
“Yes, I know,” her mother answered, “and I am very happy. At the same time, darling, you must understand that I miss your father and I loved him too. He was a very wonderful man.”
She did not say the actual words – that he was really too old for her.
However, Belinda knew perceptively that she was thinking it.
She had been interested in the women her stepfather had known previously.
Her mother had showed her sketches of them in The Ladies’ Journal and she described to Belinda how lovely they were. One had dark hair, one red, but the majority of them were fair.
“Your stepfather loves fair-haired women,” her mother had added.
As she spoke, she looked at herself in the mirror and Belinda also learnt that the beauties accepted very expensive presents.
Only gloves or fans were conventionally accepted gifts, but she had the feeling these women usually expected something far more extravagant.
Now, for whatever reason, the money that had been in the bank had gone and she had no idea how they could possibly manage without it.
Captain D’Arcy did not return the following week as he had promised.
In fact, several weeks went by, and Belinda was becoming frantic.
She knew the name of his Club and she contemplated writing to him there, but then she was afraid he would think it insulting if she suggested that he should return home.
But the servants were complaining that they had received no wages and the shops in the village and the nearest town were asking for their bills to be paid.
‘I shall have to write to him – I shall have to!’ Belinda thought, as she came round the side of the house.
Then with a leap of her heart she saw in the distance coming up the drive there was a chaise drawn by two horses.
She recognised the horses.
They were the pair her stepfather had taken when he had first left for London after her mother’s death and they were undoubtedly the best horses in the stable.
Now they were bringing her stepfather home. That was what she wanted more than anything else.
She hurried round to the front of the house and onto the steps.
As the chaise drew up outside, she was waiting to greet him.
The groom jumped down from the box to open the door and her stepfather, looking very smart and exceedingly handsome, climbed out.
Belinda ran down the steps and kissed him on the cheek.
As she did so, she knew before he could say anything and before he had even entered the house, that everything was wrong.
She felt her heart sink.
“How are you, my dear?” he asked. “I am sorry that I could not come any earlier, but I was prevented by a great number of different problems.”
“You are here now, Step-Papa, and that is all that matters,” Belinda replied. “I was hoping and praying you would come soon.”
She spoke urgently.
She saw by the expression in his eyes and the tightening of his lips that it was something he did not want to hear.
He walked into the hall and put his hat down. When Bates, the butler, appeared to welcome him home, he merely said sharply,
“Bring me a bottle of champagne to the drawing room!”
Bates hurried to obey his order.
D’Arcy Rowland walked into the drawing room, and Belinda followed him.
He walked to the window to stand with his back to her.
She knew that what he was about to tell her was something disastrous, something that struck her with terror even before she had heard it.
Chapter Two
THE door opened and Bates came in with the champagne on a silver tray and he put it down on a table in the corner of the room.
He poured a glass of the sparkling wine from the bottle.
As she watched, Belinda realised that the ice bucket was missing and she had the idea that her stepfather had taken it back to London with him.
Bates offered the glass of champagne to D’Arcy Rowland and he drank it down as if he were very thirsty.
When the Butler had withdrawn, Belinda asked,
“Tell me what is wrong, Step-Papa. I know there is something you have to tell me.”
D’Arcy Rowland turned from the window when he had finished the champagne and without speaking, he walked across the room to fill his glass again.
Then, as if he had to answer Belinda’s question, he cried out,
“I am finished! Completely finished! I have not a penny left in the world!”
Belinda could hardly believe what she was hearing.
Then, because her legs felt suddenly as if they could no longer support her, she sat down rather heavily on the sofa.
“W-what do – you – mean?” she asked.
“Exactly what I have just said,” her stepfather replied. “I told you the last time I was here that things were difficult. Now they are so bad that it means I shall be sent to prison.”
Belinda gave a little moan.
“I cannot – believe – it! How can – this have happened? Where is the – money we always – had?”
“It has all gone,” D’Arcy Rowland replied in a hard voice, “and a great deal more besides.”
Belinda clasped her hands together, trying to remain calm.
She felt that her brain was whirling.
She drew in several deep breaths before she stammered,
“I suppose we have – something in the – house you could sell?”
“The house has gone too!”
Belinda stared at him.
“Gone? H-how is – that – possible? It belongs to – me!”
“I know,” D’Arcy Rowland retorted, “but I pledged it at the bank with its contents and – ”
He paused for a moment.
Then, as if he forced himself tell the truth, he added,
“I said that you understood the situation and I forged your – signature.”
“But – how could you do such a – thing,” Belinda gasped.
Her stepfather did not answer and she said,
“Could I not – somehow – claim it back and say it was a – mistake?”
“If you do that, I shall be arrested for forgery in addition to other things for which I am being dunned,” D’Arcy Rowland replied. “I think the penalty for that is penal servitude!”
Belinda wanted to scream.
Instead, she was silent until in a trembling voice she asked,
“What can – we do – if the house has – gone and we have no money – we have – nowhere to go!”
There was silence until her stepfather muttered,
“I suppose I should apologise to you, but words are hopelessly inadequate. My only excuse is that I loved your mother as I have never loved another woman.”
Now there was a little warmth in his voice as he went on,
“As I expect you know, there have been dozens of women in my life. But your mother was different. When I lost her, I thought I would go mad!”
There was an agony in the way he spoke that Belinda did not miss.
“In fact, I did go mad,” he continued. “I went to London and tried by every means in my power to forget what I had lost. I gave parties that cost money and presents to women who made me sick because they were not your mother.”
He looked at Belinda for a moment, saw her stricken eyes, and added,
“I suppose I should not be telling you this, but you may as well hear the truth. I indulged in every depravity available, simply to try and cure the ache in my heart. But I failed.”
“I-I think I – understand,” Belinda murmured.
“It is only now that I realise I have not only destroyed myself, but you,” he said. “The duns are waiting to take me before the Magistrates, and the bank has given me one month to find what I owe them before they foreclose on this house and we are thrown into the gutter!”
Belinda gave a little cry.
Then she asked,
“What about the – servants? Bates has been with – us for nearly – forty years and Mrs. Bates is – not strong. They will never – find another position and – will end up in the workhouse.”
“Where we will join them,” D’Arcy Rowland said sharply.
“There must be – something we can do – something!” Belinda whispered.
She was fighting against the horror that was seeping over her.
She was trying to use her brain as her father had taught her to do.
“There – must be – something!”she repeated.
“There is something,” her stepfather answered, “if you will agree to it.”
He finished his glass of champagne as he spoke. Putting it on a table, he sat down on the sofa beside her.
“Perhaps,” he said in a conciliatory tone, “I should have told you the situation more gently, but I wanted you to understand first what we are up against before I told you that there is one ray of hope at the end of a very dark tunnel.”
He was now speaking in the way he had always spoken to her mother.
Belinda knew it made him irresistible, as there was something unusually attractive about his voice.
She had once heard one of the men who stayed at the house state,
“D’Arcy can charm the birds off the trees and how often has he done so, I wonder?”
Everybody had laughed.
Belinda thought now that he was going to try and charm her and she had the distinct feeling it would be something that she should resist.
At the same time, she was asking herself how she could possibly give up her home, the house her mother had made so beautiful and which her father had always been so proud of.
She could hardly believe that her stepfather should have forged her name.
She knew he was right in saying that forgery was considered a very serious offence in the Criminal Courts and he would undoubtedly receive a very long sentence of imprisonment.
As if he realised what her thoughts were, D’Arcy Rowland said,
“I have always known you were very intelligent, Belinda. That is why I think you will understand now what I am going to ask you to do.”
He looked at her pleadingly before he went on,
“I swear it is the only possible way by which you can save me and, incidentally, yourself.”
Belinda pressed herself against the cushions behind her so that they gave her support and she tightened her fingers until they hurt.
Every instinct in her body made her want to scream at her stepfather and she might even burst into tears because she felt so helpless.
Then she could see her father teaching her the languages that had meant so much to him and she could hear him describing the characteristics of the people who spoke them.
He had summed them up so cleverly and he made a picture which his young pupil could readily understand.
‘I must be calm – I must listen to every word and not think
about myself,’ Belinda thought.
“I expect you have heard of Marcus Logan,” her stepfather began, “and doubtless read about him in the newspapers?”
Belinda knew exactly what he was saying.
The story of Lucky Logan had been repeated over and over again every time he made some new discovery.
He had been written up not only in the financial columns of every newspaper, but was also headlined in the main news pages.
Marcus Logan had been sent home to England from India to go to school and his father was the Governor of Bombay.
It was a long journey, as the ship had to sail all the way round the Cape of Good Hope.
Marcus, however, enjoyed himself, as there were several other boys of his age also returning to England. They played deck tennis and every other kind of game available and they were delighted when the ship put into the port of Cape Town to be able to go ashore.
They then set out to explore what they could of that part of Africa.
Because there was no hurry, as the ship had stores to take aboard, they went climbing up a nearby mountain.
They had climbed some way when there was a storm of tempestuous rain, but fortunately there were some small caves on the mountainside where they could shelter.
Three of the boys rushed into the nearest one and filled it so that there was no room for Marcus.
So he looked around and saw that there was a smaller cave he could crawl into. He could not stand upright, but at least he was out of the rain.
Once he was inside, he found he could just sit up. The cave smelt of some animal and he thought the floor would undoubtedly be dirty.
He took off the woollen scarf he was wearing round his neck, spread it out and sat on it.
The storm did not last very long.
When it had passed, the boys in the next cave shouted to Marcus that they should go back to the ship.
He crawled out and only when he was outside did he remember his woollen scarf, so he darted back into the cave.
He pulled the scarf out and found when he picked it up that there was a stone caught in the wool.
It was a nicely shaped stone, so instead of throwing it away, he pushed it into his pocket.
After the boys had hurried back to the ship, Marcus thought no more about the stone in his pocket until he undressed that night.
It was then that he looked at the stone more carefully.
Lucky Logan Finds Love Page 2