He had heard a great many stories about her father. No one, however, had said he was a mountain climber as his daughter had implied last night –
As he strode on, the Marquis was thinking how frail she looked – not only frail to climb mountains but also to want to ride a horse as big and powerful as Champion.
‘I expect she is just showing off,’ he told himself.
At the same time she appeared so quiet, gentle and sweet, which did not seem to fit in with her appearance.
When he had kissed her goodnight, it had been an expression of gratitude.
She seemed so young and petite as she stood beside him, he thought of her more as a child than a woman.
But when his lips touched hers, he was aware of an unreal feeling within himself. Now as he thought about it, he was almost sure that she had never been kissed before.
Then he told himself this was impossible.
As he had felt at first, she is a very good actress.
Despite her success in London and the number of men who had thrown themselves at her feet, she behaved just like a very young girl – one who knew nothing of the Social world and was more at home in the country.
‘She is certainly surprising,’ he told himself.
The fifth jump was in a very special position and it made the steeplechase very different from any other he had ever ridden in.
He had run the course through the trees in the park and over some bare land – then between two woods and he had found an ideal place for a challenging jump.
There was a straight and fairly long run up to it and the riders could urge their horses to gallop faster than they had done so far in the race.
Then, at the end of the long run, there came the fifth jump, which had originally been a hedge dividing one field from another.
There were trees on each side and once the horses had taken the jump there was a short piece of level ground ahead.
As the Marquis drew nearer to the jump, he realised that if Randolph had really planned to kill him, he could not have found a better spot at which to do it.
The woods on either side were a protection against any interference and the jump could not be seen from the spectator’s stand.
The hedge, on his instructions, had been allowed to grow up without being cut back.
It would be easy for a horse like Champion to take the jump in his stride even though it was one of the highest fences in the whole race.
He deliberately approached the jump through the wood just in case the Berber or anyone else was watching the fence.
But there was no one to be seen.
The rabbits rustling away in the undergrowth ahead of him and the squirrels jumping overhead assured him he was the only interloper. At the moment the wildlife had the woods to themselves.
However, he was cautious enough to approach the hedge carefully.
He looked as if he was just inspecting it and not as if he was searching for anything that should not be there.
When he was close, he looked through the leaves at the top of the jump.
Now he could see the strand of thin wire that Neisa had told him he would find.
He could see it gleaming in the early sunshine.
He realised at once how dangerous it could be. It only needed a short inspection to see what would happen.
When the Berber pulled the wire taut at the moment Champion had taken off for the jump, it would add at least a foot onto the jump.
It would be just impossible for any horse, even one as good and as strong as Champion, to clear it.
Now looking over the fence the Marquis could see that some sharp stones had been added since yesterday onto ground on the far side.
It was where the horse would fall and its rider be thrown from the saddle.
There was a grim expression on the Marquis’s face and his lips were set in a hard line.
He realised that what he had been told was the truth and his cousin Randolph intended him to die.
He could see only too clearly how cleverly it had all been planned.
The Berber would emerge from the direction of the wood and approach the jump unseen from the far side of the fence.
It would be impossible for him to see that the man was there until it was too late.
Gently, so as to disturb the wire as little as possible, the Marquis with a sharp instrument cut it at the other end of the jump from where the Berber would be manipulating it.
When he pulled it, it would not rise a foot higher and taut as he intended, but merely slip towards him.
He did not cut the wire through completely – he left a small strand, which would break when it was pulled and would not be apparent until the trap was set in motion.
Then, because he knew it would be a mistake to let anyone see him, he walked back into the wood.
He retraced his steps over the fields and orchards until he was in the garden.
It was still very early and there was no one to see him enter the house by the back door.
He walked upstairs to his own room and sat on his bed trying to think what he should do about Randolph.
If his cousin failed in his attempt to kill him today, there was always tomorrow!
It was impossible for him to be permanently on his guard – or for him to rely endlessly on someone like Miss Waverton to save him from destruction.
‘What on earth can I do? What the devil can I do?’ he asked himself over and over again.
For a moment he could not think of a solution to his appalling problem.
He was thinking again about Miss Waverton and how brave she had been.
Then he thought it would be a mistake for anyone to know she had not slept in her own room last night. It would cause endless gossip amongst the servants if it became known that she had slept in the bedroom next to his.
It was important that no one should start imagining they had any particular bond.
The Marquis therefore waited until the clock told him it was half past six.
Then he walked through the connecting door that led into his sitting room.
The boudoir door was still half open, as he had left it.
He moved quietly into the room.
The curtains had not been drawn and the sunshine was streaming brightly into the room.
The Marquis walked to the bed and saw that Neisa was fast asleep.
Because it was hot she had pushed down the sheet and he could just see the outline of her breasts beneath her diaphanous nightgown.
Her beautiful auburn hair flowed like a torrent over her pillow and her shoulders.
She looked exquisitely lovely and it was hard for him to believe that any man had never held her in his arms.
She seemed little more than a child, lost in a fairy tale dream.
‘She is so ethereally beautiful,’ he mused, ‘and far too perfect to be involved in anything quite so unpleasant as a murder.’
He had a sudden impulse to bend down and kiss her lips as he had done last night.
Then it had been just a simple gesture of gratitude. Now he knew that he was deeply moved by her beauty in a way that any other woman had seldom moved him.
Because it seemed almost a crime to waken her, he thought he would take a look at the door of her bedroom – as she had said that she was afraid that Randolph might burst it open in the night.
Although the Marquis felt it unlikely, he wanted to know for certain whether or not he had tried.
He quietly opened the door of Neisa’s room.
The candles that had been alight beside the bed had burned down. Two of them were out altogether whilst the third had just a tiny flame still flickering.
He could see the open window where Neisa had set out to reach her cousin’s room.
The Marquis then walked towards the door.
The lock seemed intact when he first glanced at it and then he realised, that in a subtle way, Randolph had managed to manipulate the key.
He had obviously been in
the room, found his prey had vanished and knowing that he was defeated, had given up the chase.
The Marquis’s expression was grim as he looked at the lock.
He vowed that never again would it be possible for any guest to enter a lady’s room unless she opened the door herself.
He would instruct his carpenter to fit steel bolts to the inside of every door, so it would be impossible for any potential lover, however ardent, to force open a door once it was bolted.
Then the Marquis walked back to Neisa.
Very gently he covered her hand with his as it lay limply on the lace edged sheet.
“Please wake up,” he urged. “It is time for you to be awake.”
Neisa opened her eyes and for a moment she stared at the Marquis.
Then she murmured,
“I was dreaming – about you.”
“I am very flattered, but you must now go back to your own bedroom.”
For a moment Neisa did not seem to understand.
“Oh, of course! What time is it?”
“It’s nearly a quarter to seven and it is important no one should know you have slept here.”
“No, of course – not.”
Neisa sat up in bed.
The Marquis saw that her dressing gown was lying on a chair, so he walked over to the window with his back to her.
She jumped out of bed and quickly put on her blue dressing gown with its elegant lace trimming.
Her slippers were beside the chair and she slipped her feet into them.
She tidied the bed, turning the pillow over so that it did not appear that anyone had slept there.
The Marquis turned round as she was pulling back the satin cover she had taken off last night.
“That is very sensible of you,” he told her quietly. “We don’t want anyone talking about what has happened or making Randolph curious as to where you had gone.”
“Do you – mean that he came – into my room – last night?” she stammered.
“I think so,” he nodded, “but it is something which will not happen again.”
He saw the fear in Neisa’s eyes.
“You were safe last night and I promise you, you will be safe tonight and any other night you stay in one of my houses.”
“Thank you! Thank you for letting me sleep here, my Lord. I would have been so terrified – if he had come to me, as I believe – he intended.”
“He had no right to,” asserted the Marquis and his voice was angry.
“But you were very kind to me and what have you done – about the jump?”
The words came slowly from between her lips.
The Marquis had the feeling that when she said she was dreaming of him, she had been saving him from death.
“All is arranged, but you have to act your part very cleverly and not make anyone think you are at all anxious about Champion and me.”
“But he will be safe?”
“I promise you I will take the utmost care of him – and of myself!”
“You will not – take any risks, my Lord?”
“There will be no risk now at jump number five,” the Marquis told her positively.
He saw the expression in her face and asked her as if he could not help himself.
“Does it matter so much to you?”
“Of course it does! How could I possibly want you to – die in such an appalling way or – for Champion to be injured so that he might never be the same again?”
“None of these things are going to happen. Now go back to your bed until your maid calls you. Remember you have slept peacefully and nothing unusual or unexpected has happened during the night.”
“I will try to remember,” she murmured obediently.
She smiled at him and walked to the open door.
As she reached it, she turned round.
“You promise, my Lord, you will be very careful?”
“I promise.”
She smiled again at the Marquis and then hurried to her own bedroom.
It was exactly as she had left it and she blew out the last flickering candle.
As she climbed into bed, she began to pray.
It was a very fervent prayer that the Marquis would be kept safe and that Champion would not be injured.
And that no one would ever know that she had been involved in anything so horrible and so cruel.
Then she began wondering again how the Marquis would be able to protect himself in the future.
If the Berber failed to raise the deadly wire at the jump, then Randolph would merely think of another way.
He was obviously determined to destroy his cousin and become the Marquis of Denholme himself.
‘He must be stopped at all costs,’ Neisa told herself.
But like the Marquis, she was finding it difficult to think of how he could be foiled. He certainly could not be accused of doing something that could not be proved.
Neisa lay worrying in bed until Hannah came in to call her.
*
She pulled back the curtains and brought in a tray with a small pot of tea, a cup and a slice of thin bread and butter.
“It’s such a lovely day,” Hannah was saying, “and they’re all looking forward downstairs to the race, which of course his Lordship’ll win as he always does.”
“I too am hoping he will win today,” replied Neisa cautiously, but she was not thinking of the race.
Hannah dressed her in one of the beautiful dresses that Carol had bought for her in Bond Street.
Neisa was about to go down to the breakfast room when Carol came bursting in.
“Let me look at you,” she cried. “You have to look your best today because this is a very smart occasion.”
“No one will look at me, Carol, as they will all be concentrating on the horses and how much money they are going to win!”
“I expect that’s true. Money is more important to them than anything.”
The bitterness was back in Carol’s voice.
When they arrived at the breakfast room, Sir Peter Jackson was there and he rose to his feet as they entered.
As he did so, Neisa caught the expression on Carol’s face and knew that she was in love – it made her look even more attractive and lovelier than ever.
Neisa heard Sir Peter say as he went to Carol’s side,
“Did you sleep well? And did you pray for me, as you promised you would?”
“Of course I did,” answered Carol. “And as I told you, your invention is going to be accepted and you will feel like jumping over the moon!”
“We will jump together,” smiled Sir Peter.
He pulled back a chair for Carol and brought her what she asked for from the silver dishes on the side table.
Neisa was helping herself to eggs and bacon when Randolph Holme came into the room.
He walked across to Neisa without speaking to the others and once he was beside her, he asked her in a low voice,
“Where did you sleep last night?”
It was the question she had not been expecting and for a moment she could only stare at him.
“What do you mean?”
“I came to say goodnight to you as I had promised I would and you were not there.”
Neisa looked away from him.
“That was something you have no right to do and if I had not been sleeping with my cousin, I would have been very angry.”
“I thought it was where you might have gone, but you knew I wanted to talk to you and to tell you how much you mean to me.”
Neisa turned away.
“Today we need to be absorbed by the steeplechase and that is more important than anything else.”
“Nothing could ever be more important than you,” Randolph replied. “I think you will find that what I have to say is far more interesting than watching a whole lot of sweating horses.”
“That is where you are wrong,” answered Neisa. “I would rather watch the horses than anything else.”
“Very well, I wil
l let you do so. But, when the race is over, we will walk in the garden or, if you would prefer, sit in the conservatory.”
Neisa determined that nothing would make her do either of these things with him, but it would be a mistake to say so now.
She thought that only Randolph could talk of such a private conversation whilst the Marquis was lying dead at the fifth jump.
‘He is so ghastly, inhuman and completely without any feeling of decency,’ Neisa fumed to herself angrily.
She sat down at the table to eat her breakfast as a number of the other guests came into the room.
“We have been looking at all the horses,” called out one of the gentlemen, “and if you ask me they are just as excited about the race as we are!”
“Of course they are,” another agreed. “I have never met a horse yet who did not enjoy a good race, especially when he has a good chance of winning it!”
They all began talking at once about racing – what they felt before a race, after it, and if they won.
Whilst everyone was talking away, Neisa managed to move so that she was no longer sitting next to Randolph.
Although he looked crossly at her when he realised what she had done, he did not say anything.
Sir Peter Jackson and Carol were the only two not talking about the steeplechase and every time Neisa looked at them, she could see how interested they were in each other.
She began to worry again as to what would happen when Sir Peter learnt who Carol really was.
‘I am sure that she has never felt like this about any other man,’ Neisa told herself. ‘And I could not bear her to break her heart over a man who will never love her.’
Yet it was difficult to think that was possible. She could see how animated and attentive Sir Peter was.
She thought that when he was talking to Carol there was a look of affection as well as admiration in his eyes.
However she could not be sure, as at this moment she could not be sure of anything –
She could not even be sure that Randolph was still planning to destroy the Marquis and Champion.
When breakfast was finished, she and Carol walked upstairs to fetch their hats.
They waited to go to the starting-post with the men and there were several brakes to take them there.
The Marquis had departed from the breakfast room sooner than anyone else and Neisa realised he was going ahead to see that everything was in order.
A Change of Hearts Page 8