The White Witch

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The White Witch Page 5

by Barbara Cartland


  “Very well,” the Marquis said. “I will leave you, Miss Flora, to choose the room you think is the most suitable. Please see to it that none of my pictures are left on the walls just in case the well-behaved children throw darts at them or think they are something to add to a bonfire!”

  Flora laughed and it was a very pretty sound.

  “Now your Lordship is being very imaginative. I can assure you that the idea of having lessons in the castle will leave them over-awed and talking in whispers.”

  “I only hope that you are right, Miss Flora.” Now what else do I need to do?”

  “I think, although it may sound rather presumptuous of me, that you should throw a party.”

  “A party!”

  “To celebrate your homecoming and because you want to wipe away the hatred that is in our hearts. If you give a party like the one your father held when you were twenty-one, everyone would be thrilled and delighted.”

  The Marquis remembered there had been fireworks, and a huge feast had been provided in tents, where the barrels of beer and cider never ran dry. Looking back he reckoned that it was the one kindly act his father had ever done for him.

  He had in fact not thrown the party to please his son, but because it would impress his neighbours, who had often thought he was very harsh with him.

  The Marquis remarked that he had enjoyed the occasion to a certain extent, yet he had not been allowed to ask more than two of his friends who had studied with him at Oxford.

  His father had pooh-poohed the idea of having a large house party.

  “The festivities take place outdoors and that is where they should be,” his father had said. “I am not having a lot of people who bore me inside the castle.”

  The Marquis thought now that the village lads had enjoyed the occasion far more than he had. They had been especially thrilled by an illuminated boat, which looked like a gondola floating on the lake.

  “Very well,” he said aloud, “I will hold a party, but of course, Miss Flora, you must arrange it. I cannot be expected, as I am without a manager and with very few servants, to do everything myself.”

  Flora’s eyes twinkled.

  “Now I know,” she said, “that you are punishing me for what I said to you. Very well, my Lord, I apologise, and I will help you make the people from the village appreciate that you are a kind, generous and friendly proprietor.”

  The Marquis suspected that she was laughing at him, but at the same time he understood that in the current situation he could not manage without her.

  “Thank you, Miss Flora,” he said, “and now just tell me how to inform everyone that their misery is over, their pensions are increased, and we need a great deal of help at the castle itself?”

  “I will set the ball rolling for you,” Flora replied. “You are quite certain, my Lord, that you can afford this extravagance and will not begrudge spending your money.”

  The Marquis looked at her sharply.

  Then he realised she was being deliberately provocative.

  “Of one thing I am quite certain, Miss Flora,” he said as he rose to his feet, “I have engaged the right person to be in charge of all these celebrations, and that of course is – you.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Marquis returned to the castle and was relieved to find that there were now two footmen in the hall to greet him.

  He recognised both of them as having been working at the castle in the past. Their livery still fitted them and they looked very smart. He shook them both by the hand and welcomed them back.

  As he walked into his study, Bowles told him there were two more men who were very willing to return, but they had however to give a week’s notice to their present employer.

  “I am glad they found work,” the Marquis remarked.

  “They were very thankful, my Lord, as their families depended on them,” Bowles replied.

  The Marquis climbed upstairs for a long talk with his grandmother.

  She was so delighted to be feeling better and kept praising Flora for all she had done for her.

  “I remember her mother possessing a gift for healing,” the Dowager said, “but I believe Flora is even better. She has a magic all of her own.”

  The Marquis did not want to talk about magic. It was the one subject that upset him at the moment.

  He was however glad to realise that despite her strong feelings over what had been happening on the estate, Flora had not told his grandmother about the problems.

  He was rather surprised because he believed that all women enjoyed chatter and gossip.

  At the same time he had no wish for the Dowager to be upset as she had been suffering so much pain with her rheumatism.

  Although he was alone for dinner he changed into his evening clothes.

  He sat at the head of the table to be waited on by Bowles and the two footmen. The dinner was very different from his rather meagre luncheon.

  He was amused to find that the main dish was a large sirloin of beef. He was quite certain that it would go, as it would have done in the old days, from the dining room to the servants hall and that night those who had been on a modest diet would be sure of a good ‘tuck in’.

  Because it had been along day, he was tired as he walked wearily upstairs.

  However when he finally climbed into bed he found it difficult to sleep as he kept thinking of Locadi and it was almost as if she was in the room speaking to him.

  ‘This is her magic,’ he told himself as he wondered what he could do to counteract her influence.

  Finally he fell asleep and he dreamed of her. When he awoke he felt again that she must by some magical power be projecting herself upon him.

  He tried not to be alarmed but to think his situation out rationally, but he was forced to admit that his dilemma was becoming most unpleasant.

  *

  The Marquis had given orders that he would ride out before breakfast.

  When he came downstairs just before seven o’clock, a horse was waiting for him in the courtyard. It was a finely built animal which was the pride of Gower’s stable.

  When he mounted the horse and rode off, he thought that his head groom had every reason to be pleased.

  He rode for some way past fields which he thought had not been sown as they should have been by this time of the year.

  In fact there were no Spring crops but only weeds on unploughed fields.

  He knew that later in the day he must call on his tenant farmers. However he decided that first he would enjoy a good breakfast.

  He was riding back towards the castle when he saw a horse in the distance and recognised at once that it was being ridden by a woman.

  As he drew nearer he was not surprised to see it was Flora.

  He felt that she was imposing on him, as she had no right to ride on his land without his permission.

  As he approached her she said before he could speak,

  “Good morning, my Lord. I am not trespassing as you may think but – “

  “What makes you think that I may consider you a trespasser?” the Marquis interrupted.

  Flora smiled.

  “I am reading your thoughts and the expression in your eyes.”

  “If that is true,” the Marquis retorted, “it is definitely something you should not be doing.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Are you ashamed of what you are thinking? Or have you special reasons for being secretive?”

  It flashed through the Marquis’s mind that he would not like Flora to know about the trouble he was experiencing with Locadi.

  Before he could answer Flora added,

  “I had not finished my sentence when I said that I was not trespassing. I have been calling on Mrs. Shepherd, who if you remember was your housekeeper at the castle for many years.”

  “Of course I remember Mrs. Shepherd,” the Marquis replied. “She was very kind to me when I was a boy. If I was sent to bed in disgrace, she always brought me up something delicious to eat.”

>   “If you remember her that well, I am sure you will want her back now to engage housemaids and to clean the rooms on the second floor and in the wings that have not been touched for nearly a year.”

  “I suppose that is because Potter dismissed all the servants?”

  “He sent them all away and of course Bowles and Mrs. Bowles could not do everything that was required, especially as they were kept so short of food.”

  “I do not want to think about it,” the Marquis answered, “and of course you are quite right to ask Mrs. Shepherd to return to the castle, but will she come back?”

  “She is longing to,” Flora replied, “and I told her that you will send a carriage for her this afternoon as she has quite a lot of luggage and anyway she is too old to walk so far.”

  “Naturally I will send a carriage for her,” the Marquis responded almost sharply.

  He had the feeling that Flora suspected that he might be cheeseparing in some way or another.

  “No I was not thinking that,” she said before he could speak, “I was just afraid that you would think I was imposing on your good nature.”

  “Will you stop reading my thoughts!” the Marquis snapped. “They are not at all appropriate for a well brought up young woman.”

  Flora laughed.

  “In view of all the difficulties and tragedies I have had to cope with this past year, I can assure you I am no longer a shy, ignorant debutante.”

  The Marquis laughed too because he could not help himself.

  “Then what are you?” he enquired.

  “The villagers call me the White Witch,” Flora replied. “That is because I not only heal them when they are ill, but bring them luck when they are upset or in love.”

  “How do you do that?” the Marquis asked.

  “I think a good deal of it is sheer common sense,” Flora admitted frankly. “At the same time, if you believe in something strongly it makes it very much easier. And they believe in me as they believed in my mother.”

  She spoke quite simply and sincerely and the Marquis was impressed. It flashed through his mind that perhaps she could deal with his own particular troubles.

  Then he told himself that he had no intention of becoming too familiar with any young woman.

  He had always found in the past that it was the first step towards matrimony.

  “I am extremely grateful, Miss Flora,” he said coldly, “for all you are doing and I suggest that sometime this morning you should call at the castle to choose which room you wish to use for the school children.”

  “I will certainly do as you suggest, my Lord,” Flora replied.

  The Marquis raised his hat and rode off.

  He was conscious as he did so that Flora, who had turned in the opposite direction, looked extremely elegant on the horse she was riding.

  She was moving away from him very rapidly. Compared with the London women who trit-trotted in Rotten Row just to show themselves off, she was very different.

  When he looked back she was already almost out of sight. He wondered if he had been rude in leaving her so abruptly.

  ‘I have to use her at the moment because there is no one else,’ he mused. ‘Equally I have no wish to become involved with her.’

  As he ruminated, he was aware of how deeply involved he was with Locadi.

  *

  He enjoyed an excellent breakfast, eating all the dishes he remembered liking in the past.

  When he had finished, Bowles brought in the post. There were only two letters.

  One was from his secretary, Mr. Barrett.

  He recognised the handwriting on the other letter all too easily.

  He wondered if he should throw it away without even reading it.

  Then he told himself that he was being very childish.

  A letter from Locadi could not hurt him any more than he was hurt already. He could not however fail to notice, as he opened the envelope, the fragrance of the perfume she always wore.

  He was not surprised to find a small orchid tucked inside with the letter, which was written in Locadi’s somewhat flamboyant hand.

  She wrote,

  “Dearest Fascinating and Beloved Ivor, I miss you terribly. I cannot understand why you had to rush to the country without saying goodbye. Your secretary tells me that you departed on urgent business. What business could be more important than ours? Dearest Ivor, make me happy by letting me know that you will be returning very shortly. In the meantime I am thinking of you and loving you.

  Locadi.”

  The Marquis read it again.

  Going to his study he held the letter over the grate and burnt it together with the orchid into ashes.

  He had an uncomfortable feeling that although he might destroy her letter, it would not stop Locadi attempting to bewitch him. She would continue to use the power of thought to make him acutely aware of her all the time.

  In fact he almost felt as if she was standing beside him laughing at his endeavours to be rid of her.

  Because he did not wish to think of her or what was happening to him he marched over to the stables.

  He needed to inspect whichever horses remained. He also told Gower he could hire more help and that his wages were doubled.

  The man was overcome.

  “I don’t know what to say to your Lordship,” he said. “It’s been real hard to carry on these past months with no help and begrudged every mouthful the horses ate.”

  The Marquis noticed that they were rather thin, but otherwise looked healthy. He could only thank Gower for staying and for caring for his animals as best he could.

  “It were a crying shame, my Lord,” he said, “that Mr. Potter sold them three. I’d been thinking that when you comes home you’d be proud to ride them.”

  “Then the best thing you can do,” the Marquis exclaimed, “is to buy me three more good steeds immediately and keep your eyes open for anything else that you think would be a credit to our stable.”

  Gower stared at him.

  “Does your Lordship really mean that? I were told you intended to economise on your horses both here and at Newmarket.”

  The Marquis stiffened.

  He had not expected that Potter would interfere with his racehorses. Was it possible that they too had been sold or deprived as his horses here at the castle had been?

  “Have you any knowledge of what has been happening at Newmarket?” he asked sharply.

  “I understands, my Lord,” Gower replied somewhat reluctantly, “that Mr. Potter told your Lordship’s manager that you were a cutting down in every direction and that he was to sell any horses that were superfluous.”

  “And did Saunders agree?” the Marquis enquired. He was horrified at what he had just heard and there was a harshness in his voice which Gower did not miss.

  “It be all right, my Lord,” he said soothingly. “Mr. Saunders I understands tells Mr. Potter he’d no instructions from your Lordship and he would not sell anything until he were told direct as it were.”

  “Thank God!” the Marquis cried.

  He could hardly believe that Potter could have schemed so wickedly. He had devised every possible way with which to line his pockets while his Master was safely half way across the world.

  When the Marquis left the stables he knew that he would have to face Potter.

  He had considered sending for him, yet seeing how swollen his leg was, it was unlikely that Potter could walk so far and if he did, he might be obliged to commiserate with him.

  Thinking it was an unpleasant task which could not be put off any longer, he walked again to Potter’s house.

  There was no sign of anyone about so he opened the door and walked in.

  He half expected that having heard of his arrival, Potter would have moved into the room that he used as an office. He would be trying to hide the evidence of his crimes.

  However when the Marquis opened the door, the room was exactly as it had looked yesterday. He therefore turned to the other door oppos
ite.

  Potter was still in the chair in which he had seen him with his gouty foot raised onto a footstool.

  As the Marquis moved a little closer he realised with a sense of shock that the man was dead.

  There was a revolver in his hand and he had shot himself through the mouth. His face was not marked and only the back of his head was shattered.

  The Marquis stood looking at him. He was thinking how sad it was that any man should have to pay for his crimes in such a horrible manner.

  He knew however that Potter had not thought he would return so unexpectedly. Once he had found out, there was no hiding or covering up his tracks.

  In fact he had done the only possible thing he could do under the circumstances.

  The Marquis left the house and returned to the stables to find Gower.

  He told him what had happened and asked him to fetch the nearest doctor who lived some little distance away in another village.

  Gower was shocked by the news of what had occurred but was not surprised.

  “I’ll be frank with your Lordship,” he said, “and say that at first us believed what Mr. Potter told us.”

  “I can understand that,” the Marquis replied.

  “As things got worse,” Gower continued, “us suspected that something were wrong.”

  Then he smiled before he said,

  “I’ve served your Lordship and been employed at the castle for nigh on ten years. I comes here when I was a boy and I’ve never known your Lordship mean or stingy where an animal be concerned.”

  “I hope that applies to people also,” the Marquis said. “I am looking to you, Gower, to try to bring the estate back to where it was before I went away.”

  “I’ll do my best, my Lord,” Gower promised.

  The Marquis knew he must tell Flora what had happened before she heard the story from the village. He ordered a fresh horse to be saddled and rode off towards the Four Gables.

  When he reached the house, a groom who had seen him riding up the drive came to hold his horse.

  “If you be wanting Miss Flora, my Lord,” he said, “her be in the herb garden,” as he pointed the way.

 

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