“I trust you, Caroline.” She could not see him, but she could feel his warm breath on her face. “All I ask is that, for now, you trust me. Please.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and she had to admit she liked the feel of it there. It was a comforting weight, which made her feel protected.
“Why can’t you tell me everything?”
He reached up and stroked her cheek. The sensation of being alone in the dark with him, feeling his touch, almost destroyed her equilibrium. “You could end up getting hurt, and I want you to be safe.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt it, but it would be nice if you let me take care of you a little too.”
She sensed his mouth close to hers and fought the compulsion to find his lips with her own. She did not put up much of a fight. Seconds later he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. They clung together in the dark. Caroline savoured the sheer sensuality of having every sense but one’s sight. The taste of his lips, the feel of his silky hair beneath her fingertips, the aroma of his body, the sound of his breathing in rhythm with hers. She knew then that she was in love with him. She also knew that he would break her heart, but for that moment she did not care. She would gladly follow him anywhere and worry about the consequences afterwards.
They arrived in the cellar, which in daytime was illuminated by the light from a high window, looking dusty and sheepish, the spell having been broken. “I’d better go and find Mrs Oakengate,” said Caroline. “She needs to be warned about the Cariastan Heart.” She began to walk away, but Blake pulled her back for one last kiss.
“Be careful, my love,” he said. “Don’t go doing anything brave whilst I’m not there to protect you.”
“Then you’d better come with me, because facing Mrs Oakengate requires an act of courage all of its own.”
“Sadly,” he said, smiling, “I’m not quite that brave. Go on, I want to look around down here for a while and see if I can find anymore clues.”
Caroline walked towards the cellar steps then stopped. “There is one thing that’s bugging me.”
“What is that?”
“Why is someone coming to our room at night, whilst we’re there? Surely it makes more sense to search it when we’re out, as they did today.”
“Except that during the day they have to come through the kitchens to reach the cellar door. They’d be seen by the servants.”
“Why not today?”
“With Stephens out of action, it’s all hands on deck for the ball tonight. The kitchen was empty when I came through it.”
“Did you pass anyone on your way to the kitchen?”
“A few guests were milling around the hallway, some were in the drawing room.”
“I wonder what other rooms lead into the secret passageway.”
“I don’t know. Perhaps we should come back tonight, when everyone is busy dancing and find out for ourselves. Is it a date?”
Caroline smiled. “Well, it’s not up there with a movie, dinner and dancing, but it’s a start. It still doesn’t make sense to me. Whoever it is risks being caught in our room. Each time I’ve been awoken. Though … we’ve both been really tired last thing at night. I think someone might have drugged us.”
“Yes, that’s possible. It should have put you out of action.”
“But I managed to wake up.”
“And you’ve seen Lady Cassandra. Has it occurred to you that the person is dressing up as our resident ghost? That way if anyone sees her – or him – they think they’ve seen the ghost. The fact that they disappear into the panelling helps to solidify the effect.”
“Except that Lady Cassandra warned me about Stephens. And the night before last she warned me there was danger.”
“She did? You never told me that.”
“Because I thought you’d laugh at me. That’s why I was down here this morning. She woke me and said ‘Stephens’. Unless our crook has a conscience and didn’t really want to hurt him.”
“Do you believe that?”
“No. But it’s the only rational explanation, Blake.”
“It could be your subconscious. You sense there’s danger and …”
“My subconscious pulls Stephens’ name out of a hat as the person most likely to be knocked out?”
“When you put it like that, I agree it sounds unlikely.”
“I really do have to go,” said Caroline. Trying to work out the connotations of it all was giving her a headache. “Lunch will be served soon and if I’m not there, Mrs Oakengate is apt to get cross.”
“When this is all over, Caroline, we’ll run away together.”
“Will we?” She was delighted to know he thought that far ahead. At least beyond a brief flirtation on Halloween weekend.
“Oh yes.”
“Why do we have to run away? Can’t we just be together anywhere?”
He took her hand and kissed her palm, sending a shiver running through her. “No. I want you all to myself with no other distractions or responsibilities.”
Caroline wanted to believe he meant all he said. And for a moment she did. By the time she had found Mrs Oakengate and helped her to the dining room, reality hit her. He was the grandson of a rich hotel magnate, and she was not only a servant, but also the daughter of two notorious spies. What had Mrs Oakengate and the prince said? That one must stick to one’s own kind. As much as she disapproved, she was forced to admit they were probably right, to a certain extent. After all, the prince’s father had married a chambermaid and it had not worked out at all. Would it work if she did run away with Blake? Or would he soon tire of her, and find distractions amongst his own class as it was rumoured the prince’s father had?
She sat down to eat her lunch and looked around her. Who did she really know in this room? Mrs Oakengate, of course. But she would hardly be trying to steal her own diamond, unless for insurance purposes, and that seemed a little far fetched. There would be much easier ways to have it stolen than coming to an abbey in the middle of nowhere for a week.
Anna Anderson, she knew a little, but even so, Anna had been with Caroline when they saw someone up in the bedroom window, so that ruled her out. She did not know the actress Anna worked for at all, but had a feeling the girl would be far too stupid to find her way through the secret passage.
Neither did she know much about the Hendersons, though it occurred to her that the cost of hiring the abbey, and of putting on the week’s entertainment suggested they had enough money already so did not need to steal the Cariastan Heart. Not that it ruled them out completely. Sometimes even people with a lot of money wanted even more of it. And Jack Henderson was looking a bit worried. However, that might be because the owner had suddenly turned up. It was hard to feel at home in someone else’s house, especially if one feels the owner might be looking over one’s shoulder.
Count Chlomsky was a bit of a mystery, but he had known Mrs Oakengate for many years, and besides, Caroline could not imagine such an elderly gentleman managing the climb up and down the steps in the secret passageway.
There were other guests whose names she had all but forgotten, having had the briefest of conversation with them, and then only passing comments on the dreadful weather and how charming their hosts were. It could be anyone of them. A clever burglar would probably not draw attention to themselves, so may well stay on the sidelines. The problem was that every one of the guests knew that the Cariastan Heart was going to be there. It had been reported in the gossip columns.
Blake joined them all a few minutes later, winking across the table at her. She smiled, because she could do little else when with him. He made life interesting and exciting.
“Caroline,” said Mrs Oakengate. “I have a little surprise for you later.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I’m tired of seeing you in that plain black satin thing. I’ve got you something to wear to the masked ball tonight.”
“Oh … erm … thank you, Mrs Oakengate.” Caroline was flummo
xed. It was very unlike Mrs Oakengate to show such generosity. Perhaps, she thought, she had been a little unkind to her employer.
“It will be a hoot for everyone,” said Mrs Oakengate. Caroline liked the sound of that less. She hoped that Mrs Oakengate had not bought her some silly clown or vampire outfit, but it seemed clear she was not allowed to ask.
“What are you going to be dressed as, Mrs Oakengate?” asked Anna Anderson.
“I shall just come as myself, wearing a mask. I am too old for fancy dress costumes. I shall leave that to the younger generation. And you, Your Highness?” Mrs Oakengate turned to the prince. “What shall you wear?”
“I shall be wearing my heart on my sleeve for you, dear lady.”
Caroline saw a small smile playing on the lips of Count Chlomsky, but there was also sadness behind his eyes. He really did have it bad for Mrs Oakengate. What a pity she could not see it. To Caroline’s mind the elderly, but courtly, Count was a much more suitable partner for her employer.
“I believe, Mrs Oakengate,” said the Count, “that with your indomitable spirit you should go as Boudicca.”
“I did once play her in a production,” said Mrs Oakengate, smiling. Her smile suggested she was not averse to the Count. “But we were closed down on the first night. I only wanted authenticity. How was I to know that having real horses would cause so much trouble?” That was followed by general laughter around the table, even though Mrs Oakengate did not seem aware that she had said anything amusing.
“You must have lots of stories from your acting days,” said Caroline. In truth she had heard many of them, but it made her employer happy to go over them again, especially with a new audience. “Tell me about your tour in Cariastan.”
“Oh that. Well, I was very young then, and playing Nora in A Doll’s House. We had to change the ending of that for some countries, you know. The authorities would not tolerate a wife walking out on her husband.”
“And then you met my father,” said Prince Henri.
“Oh yes. He was so handsome, with his dark hair and …” Mrs Oakengate stopped and stared across the table, before turning her head to the prince and searching his face as if she hoped to find something there. She suddenly looked very old and very confused. “Oh … I seem to have missed my cue. As we say in the theatre.” Her face was first ashen white, then flushed and covered in a light film of perspiration.
“Are you alright, Mrs Oakengate?” asked Caroline. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’d rather like some water please. Of course, it can’t be so. No. I’m being silly. My old mind playing tricks on me.” Mrs Oakengate looked as if she were about to cry.
“What?” asked Caroline. “What is it?” She held out some water, but Mrs Oakengate appeared to have forgotten she asked for it.
Mrs Oakengate stood up, but was unsteady on her feet. Caroline caught her arm. “I’m not as big a fool as people take me for,” said Mrs Oakengate.
“No, of course you’re not,” said Caroline, who felt very frightened by Mrs Oakengate’s sudden loss of spirit. “What is it? What’s brought this on?”
“If you don’t mind, I should like to lie down now. Will you take me upstairs please?”
Caroline looked across at Blake, who was looking at the prince, who was looking at Mrs Oakengate with a strange expression on his face.
“Is there anything I can do to help, dear lady?” asked Count Chlomsky, standing up.
“Thank you, sir, but I will be perfectly alright,” said Mrs Oakengate.
As Caroline helped her up the stairs, Mrs Oakengate kept repeating. “I was so sure. Now I don’t know anymore. But it must be. It must be.” When Caroline tried to press her for information, Mrs Oakengate went deathly quiet and refused to say anything else until they got to her room.
Chapter Seven
“Thank you, Caroline,” said Mrs Oakengate, in a rare show of gratitude. She lay back on her bed “I think I’ll just lie here for a while. Perhaps you could let me know when the courier arrives from London.”
“Yes, of course. Would you like me to sit with you a while?”
“No … yes. Just for a few minutes.”
Caroline brought a chair nearer to the bed, whilst Mrs Oakengate closed her eyes. Caroline was sure she had fallen asleep, but then she spoke again. “One doesn’t expect a grand passion, Caroline. Not at my age. Love is for the young. But it would be nice sometimes to have someone there in the evenings. Someone I have not had to pay to be with me. Is it so very foolish of me to want that?”
“Not at all. It’s what we all want, I think.”
“Yes, but you young will have it. And you’ll waste it. You always do. Just as I did. So many love affairs that came to nothing.”
“But you married?”
“My husband was a good man. A little dull. He worked in a bank would you believe? But, I’ve been a widow for much longer than I was a wife. And since then, well, men don’t look anymore. So one is flattered to believe it when one seems to be looking. Do you understand?”
“You mean the prince?”
“Oh I wasn’t fooled by that. Not for a minute. As I said, I’m not the fool that people take me for. Though how others have been fooled I don’t know.”
“By what? By the prince? I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I think I’d like to be alone now. Wake me when the courier gets here.”
Caroline left the room, boiling with frustration. Why, she wondered, did people talk cryptically? Why not just come out and say exactly what they mean? Mrs Oakengate was not usually so mysterious. She pretty much said what she thought the rest of the time, even if she was often wrong. So why the puzzling comments now? It was all too exasperating.
Caroline was exhausted through lack of sleep, but before she lay down on her bed, she pulled a chest of drawers in front of the door leading to the secret passageway. No one would be able to visit her tonight at least. She slept until one of the maids knocked the main door to say that the courier arrived. After waking Mrs Oakengate, as she had been asked, Caroline went down to sign for the package. She found there were actually two packages. One small package, which she knew held the Cariastan Heart, and a larger box, which had the name of a well-known costumier emblazoned across it.
“Here they are, Mrs Oakengate,” said Caroline, when she got back to their room. “There were two boxes.”
“Oh yes.” Mrs Oakengate had brightened up a little, but still had a faraway look in her eyes. She sat at her dressing table, taking some analgesics. “The other, as I mentioned earlier, is for you. Open it, and let us take a look.” Caroline would have thought Mrs Oakengate would be more interested in the Cariastan Heart, but did as she was told.
She pulled the lid off the box and gasped, lifting a gown of emerald green velvet out. It felt soft and pliable in her hands. Underneath it was a black satin cloak, and beneath that a silver mask. “Mrs Oakengate. I don’t know what to say. It’s beautiful.”
“I thought you could go as Lady Cassandra,” said Mrs Oakengate. “You’d look just like her if you let your hair hang loose.”
Caroline felt a chill run down her spine. Something was not right about this. Mrs Oakengate was not known to be insightful, nor would she normally do anything that might bring her companion more attention than herself. “That’s very kind, thank you. Whatever made you think of this?”
“Am I not able to come up with ideas myself?” Mrs Oakengate snapped.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I am very grateful. I’ve never had such a beautiful dress.”
“You don’t have it now. It’s hired.”
“I’m still very grateful for the trouble you’ve gone to. Thank you. Would you like to see the Cariastan Heart now, to check it’s alright?”
“I am sure it will be. We will get ready and you can help me put it on.”
Caroline felt a little deflated. She would have liked to get a look herself, having heard so much about it, but it seemed rude to open the box without Mr
s Oakengate’s permission, so she simply put it on the dressing table next to Mrs Oakengate.
Caroline did not have the heart to admit how much she did not want to dress as Lady Cassandra at the masked ball. Due to her night-time visits from what appeared to be the lady, she felt there may be some bad luck associated with playing the role. She could not put her finger on why she felt that way. Only that she did. But neither did she want to throw Mrs Oakengate’s kind gesture in her face, even if she felt slightly mystified over the reasons behind it.
All the secrecy put Caroline in a bad mood, so it was with some reluctance that she put on the dress and gown, along with a silver mask, and followed Mrs Oakengate downstairs to the hall. The guests were drinking cocktails, whilst waiting to be called into the ballroom, where the party would take place. Some guests had arrived just for that evening, swelling the number of guests to over one hundred. They were a sight to behold, clad in various fancy dress costumes, including characters from the Commedia dell’arte, ghosts, vampires, mummies, clowns, several Marie Antoinettes, and quite a few highwaymen. It made identification difficult.
Mrs Oakengate walked down the stairs first. She wore a silver drop-waisted evening gown, in the nineteen twenties style. Around her neck, she wore the Cariastan Heart. It glittered in the gaslight, a large heart shaped diamond, surrounded by tiny rubies. The guests began to applaud, and Caroline saw Mrs Oakengate visibly stand taller, and begin to lose some of the darkness that had clouded her features all afternoon. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, they all surrounded her, eagerly wanting to get a closer glimpse at the famous diamond.
A Collector of Hearts Page 6