An Introduction To The Eternal Collection Jubilee Edition

by Cartland, Barbara

  “It is very kind of you to see me, Ma’am.”

  “It was kind of you to write to me,” Lady Brecon answered. “Miss Hall unfortunately left yesterday or she would have been here to greet you. She gave me the letter she had received from Mrs. Edgmont and at the same time I received a letter from you, Miss Fry, saying that you were staying at the Vicarage. You know Miss Wantage?”

  “Harriet, and I were at school together, Ma’am,” Caroline answered.

  “Oh, indeed. And you were friends?”

  “Yes, great friends,” Caroline answered. “I am very fond of Harriet.”

  “A sweet child,” Lady Brecon said. “And that reminds me, I have not seen her for some time. It is most remiss, but the days seem to slip by. I read, watch my birds and forget the world outside. It is wrong of me.”

  “Oh no, Ma’am, not if you are happy.”

  “Happy?” Lady Brecon repeated the word as if it were a question. “It is many years since I have known happiness, but shall I say I am not discontented? I have chosen this way of life.”

  “But, Ma’am, surely it is very dull for you,” Caroline said. “You are not yet old and there are so many things that you might find of interest to do, to see, to hear.”

  Lady Brecon laughed.

  “Would you tempt me from my chosen path? Most companions prefer someone who is bedridden, who will not harry them from place to place and find fault. But I was forgetting, you are very young. Perhaps you will find it too quiet here.”

  “Oh no, Ma’am. I want beyond all things to stay at Brecon Castle - that is if your ladyship will have me.”

  “Mrs. Edgmont speaks very highly of you,” Lady Brecon said, “but to tell the truth I am not very interested in references. I shall like to look at your pretty face, for I like. pretty things. That is why this room is full of flowers, and I love my birds. Do you not think they are pretty?”

  “They are lovely, Ma’am,” Caroline exclaimed. “My mother had a pair once and ...”

  There was suddenly a sharp knock on the door. Dorcas, who was standing at the far end of the room, started towards it, but before she could get there, the door opened and Mrs. Miller came into the room

  She moved with great impatience, her dress rustling, around her feet, the tasselled scarf she wore over her shoulders swinging with the haste of her movements. She was, Caroline noticed, exceedingly good-looking, and taller and more commanding than she had seemed when she was asleep in her chair. Her eyes, now that they were open, were as dark as sloes and seemed to flash with an expression of her feelings which Caroline judged quite rightly was one of anger.

  “You must excuse me, Ma’am,” Mrs. Miller said in a sharp high-pitched tone to Lady Brecon, “but this young person has forced her way here against my express wishes. I left word with one of the footmen that she was to be brought to me before you, Ma’am, were bothered with her, but my orders have been disregarded in a manner that I will not easily forget.”

  “There is no question of my being bothered,” Lady Brecon said quietly. “I wished to see Miss Fry and Dorcas brought her to me.”

  “That is not the point,” Mrs. Miller said. “I engage the servants for this household, Ma’am. Miss Fry should have come to me first.”

  Lady Brecon sighed.

  “I hardly think my companion, Mrs. Miller, ranks as a servant. However, I do not feel well enough to argue. I have engaged Miss Fry and she will take up her duties straight away.”

  “But, Ma’am…” Mrs. Miller began angrily.

  Lady Brecon closed her eyes.

  “My smelling salts, Dorcas,” she said in weak tones.

  Dorcas came bustling forward, almost elbowing Mrs. Miller out of her way in her efforts to get to her ladyship. Mrs. Miller gave Caroline a look which, translated into deeds would have struck her to the ground, then she turned on her heel and swept from the room.

  Caroline, who had risen to her feet, stood by the bed, uncertain and a little afraid. What would happen now? She wondered. But, to her surprise, as soon as the door was closed, Dorcas put the stopper back in the smelling salts bottle and said,

  “She has gone, m'lady.”

  “That is indeed a relief,” Lady Brecon said in perfectly steady tones, and looking at Caroline she smiled. “Sit down, child. You may think this a strange household. It is and when you have been here a little while, you will understand why I prefer to remain in my own room, not that there is not reason enough for it, for I have never been strong enough to move about much since my last child was born.”

  Caroline was just going to ask if she had any other children besides Lord Brecon, but to her surprise she caught Dorcas’ eye. Dorcas was standing so that Lady Brecon could not see her from the bed and as Caroline opened her mouth, she shook her head warningly and put her finger to her lips.

  “I detest disturbances,” Lady Brecon went on. “I ask only to be allowed to live in this room in peace alone with my thoughts. But do not remain standing. Take off your bonnet, Miss Fry, and I would like you to read to me. There is a book of poetry there which I have found intensely soothing.”

  Caroline laid her bonnet down on a chair, took up the book from a table beside the bed, and turning over the pages, came to one of her favourite poems. She knew she read well, for her governess had been most insistent that her elocution should be good. When she had finished the poem, Lady Brecon said quietly,

  “That was charming! Read me another, my dear.”

  Caroline was half-way through another poem when there came another knock at the door. Dorcas went to it, spoke to someone outside, then came across the room with a grim expression on her face.

  “His lordship’s compliments, and will Miss Fry descend to the Library.”

  Caroline felt her heart give a sudden leap. So she was to see Lord Brecon. What would he say to her? She closed the book she held in her hand and looked at Lady Brecon.

  “‘Tis certain she has made mischief,’ Dorcas said in her deep voice.

  There was no need to ask who ‘she’ was. All three women knew to whom Dorcas referred.

  “Will you go down to my son?” Lady Brecon said to Caroline. “Please tell him that I have engaged you as my companion. I would like you to start immediately at a salary of twenty pounds a year. Dorcas will see that your trunk is fetched from the Vicarage. It is all settled.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment as if the effort of making any decision was almost too much for her and then, as Caroline curtsied, she opened her eyes again and added,

  “I somehow feel you will not be bullied, child. Poor Miss Hall was sorely afraid, but you are different.”

  “I hope so,” Caroline said softly, “and thank you, Ma’am. I shall be very pleased to stay here as your companion.

  The footman was waiting outside the door to escort her downstairs. It was not James, but another white-faced youth who looked scared and made no effort to speak so Caroline followed him in silence.

  She longed to find out where Maria was, but she thought it wiser to say nothing for the moment, at least until she knew who in this household was likely to be friendly, and who not. The first thing to discover was what exactly Mrs. Miller’s position was and how strongly she counted when it came to a battle of wills.

  The footman opened the library door. It was another dark room filled with books and curtained in heavy, be-tasselled damask which seemed too exclude any sunlight which might have dared to invade the pervading gloom.

  But Caroline had no eyes for the room. Standing on the hearth was Lord Brecon and he was just as she remembered him except perhaps that, if it were possible, he was even better looking.

  He was exquisitely dressed and yet she could not help but notice that his clothes could never make him seem a dandy. He was too strong, too broad in the shoulder, and even his hands, while they were white and well-kept, were forceful as if on occasion he would not be afraid to use them. He was standing now frowning, as he listened to Mrs Miller who stood beside him, her red l
ips speaking spitefully, her dark eyes narrowed a little.

  As Caroline entered, she turned towards the door and remarked,

  “Ah, here is the person I wish you, to dismiss M’Lord”

  Caroline came slowly into the room. She held her head high, her heart was beating fast and she had no idea how ethereal and exquisite she appeared against the dark background.

  She said nothing, only moved forward slowly with her big eyes fixed on Lord Brecon’s face. He stared at her, for an astonished moment, then the frown vanished from between his eyes and he sprang towards her, both hands outstretched.

  “Then it is, my Miss Fry!” he exclaimed. “I thought that there could not be two ladies of the same name, and yet it was hard to credit that you might be here in my own home. It is wonderful, and I am indeed glad to welcome you.”

  It was difficult to take her eyes from Lord Brecon’s pleased face, and yet Caroline had to look at Mrs. Miller.

  “Then you know this – this person,” she spluttered.

  “Indeed we know each other well, do we not Miss, Fry?,” Lord Brecon asked. “In fact, Miss Fry has been of the utmost service to me on one occasion, but that I think it would be wise to keep as a secret between ourselves. What say you, Miss Fry?”

  “As you please, m’lord,’ Caroline answered, but her eyes were sparkling as she looked up into his and there was a dimple at the corner of her mouth.

  “And now you must tell me why, you are here,” he said, drawing her across the room and handing her with some ceremony into a comfortable arm-chair. Then he turned to Mrs. Miller who was still standing there, her white teeth biting furiously at her lower lip.

  “We need not trouble you any more, I think,” he said politely.

  “I am sure that my mother will wish Miss Fry to stay with her, and you can leave all the arrangements in my hands. Thank you, Mrs. Miller.”

  He had dismissed her from the room and the woman knew it. She tossed her head in a haughty manner and dropped a small and very disrespectful curtsey.

  “I hope in all sincerity that you are doing the right thing, m’lord,” she said, and swept from the room so quickly that Lord Brecon was unable to reach the door before she had opened it herself and passed through. He made sure it was shut and then turned round to look at Caroline.

  “I have been thinking about you,” he said, “and now you appear as if by magic. I am almost persuaded you are a wraith and may vanish as quickly as you have come. Are you really here?”

  “Yes, I am here,” Caroline answered softly. “Why?”

  As he asked the question, he drew nearer and then stood waiting for her answer, his eyes on her face.

  “Because I wished to see you, my lord,” Caroline answered truthfully, then even as she said the words she realised the construction he might put on them and felt the blood come swiftly into her cheeks in a crimson flood. She dropped her eyes, adding hastily,

  “I mean that I have something of the utmost import to impart to your lordship, something I was afraid to write.”

  Lord Brecon was silent for a moment, then he asked,

  “From your tone I gather it concerns what happened the other night. You have doubtless heard the verdict ‘murder by persons unknown.”

  “Yes, I have heard that,” Caroline said, “and also that your lordship’s alibi was successful!”

  “Perfectly,” Lord Brecon said. “Adam and Zara were unshakable though the Chief Justice questioned them closely. We all three saw him the day after the formal enquiry, for I deemed it wise not to appear in Court when the others were being questioned. It was just a chance, though a remote one, that someone might have seen me in the neighbourhood. But all was well. And now speak to me of the matter which you mentioned just now.”

  Caroline got to her feet.

  “Listen, my lord,’ she said, her voice very earnest and serious, her hands clasped together in unconscious appeal. “I have learned - and please, you must not ask me how I have learned it - that your life is in danger from someone who envies and indeed covets your position in life.”

  “Indeed! Go on.”

  Caroline faltered for a moment.

  “It is more difficult to tell you than I thought, for after all I am but a stranger to you, an acquaintance of a few hours standing.”

  “ ‘On the contrary, I do not think that time matters particularly when it comes to a question of experience,” Lord Brecon said. “We experienced many things together, things which with other people might have taken a lifetime, but which for us were packed into a few hours. If that does not make us friends – what will?”

  “That is true,” Caroline said, “in which case, my lord, will you forgive me if I seem to be impertinent, if I appear to presume on our – our friendship?”

  In answer Lord Brecon bent down and took her hand in his.

  “Whatever you said to me, Miss Fry,” he said, “I should think it neither impertinent nor presumptuous.

  There was something in the warm clasp of his fingers and the tone of his voice which made Caroline blush again. Resolutely, however, she thrust her own feelings on one side and went on,

  “Then, if I may speak freely, my lord, I have learned that this person, a close relation of yours and one who would benefit by your death, might easily be a great danger to your lordship.”

  Lord Brecon released Caroline’s hand and walked across to the window.

  “You are speaking, of course, of my cousin, Gervase Walingham. I will not pretend to you that I have not at times suspected him myself of being jealous of me. He is always short of money, always badgering me to pay his debts, and he shows but scant gratitude when I do but at the same time I cannot conceive that he would connive at my death.”

  “You are fond of him, my lord?” Caroline asked.

  Lord Brecon shrugged his shoulders.

  “Not particularly. We have seen little of each other. Gervase went to Harrow and then his father bought him a commission in the Guards. Our paths have not crossed to any great extent.”

  “And yet now you see him frequently?” Caroline persisted.

  “By no means,” Lord Brecon replied. “I had not set eyes an Gervase these past two years until I returned home last February. He came here to welcome me on my return, stayed a few weeks, and I have encountered him once or twice since then at White’s Club. That is all.”

  “He has not called on you this past week?” Caroline asked.

  “No! Why do you ask me that?”

  But Caroline did not reply. She was remembering what Gideon had told her. So Mr. Gervase Warlingham had been in Cuckhurst, had seen Jason Faken, and yet he had not visited the Castle. It was strange, and yet she wished to be sure of her facts before she said more. All that she had were suspicions and besides, Gideon was only a circus boy, he might have been mistaken. She did not wish Lord Brecon to think that she gossiped of his affairs with the circus folk.

  Lord Brecon turned from the window and walked across the room to her again.

  “It is kind of you to tell me this, Miss Fry, but methinks you are entirely wrong in your suspicions of Gervase. When you meet him, you will like him, for he is a handsome fellow and has, I believe, many friends. He may be open-handed with his money - or my money if it comes to that- but I swear he is no murderer. No, Miss Fry, you are misinformed and though I thank you for your interest in me, I must beg of you to believe me when I say that the ties of blood are stronger than covetousness, and Gervase is my first cousin.”

  “Pray heaven you are right, my lord,” Caroline said. “But will you promise to be careful?”

  “Careful of what?” Lord Brecon asked. “Losing my life? My dear Miss Fry, as I told you the first time we met, life is of little consequence to me. I would as fain lose it as retain it.”

  As he spoke, it seemed to Caroline that a bitter expression shadowed his face and that there was a strange darkness in his eyes. He spoke heavily, as a man might who is under sentence of death, who has lost hope and for whom the
re was no future. It was a strange impression she received and yet was unmistakable. For a moment she could only stare at him, knowing that he was looking inwardly at some hideous secret which she could not share, and speaking truthfully and without exaggeration.

  She had a sudden premonition of danger. She felt and knew that all she had half sensed or guessed intuitively was but a fraction of the ghastly truth. It was as if something indefinably evil threatened Lord Brecon, creeping inexorably nearer and nearer while she was powerless to save him.

  Caroline’s horror must have been shown on her face, for all of a sudden Lord Brecon smiled and the darkness vanished from his eyes.

  “But I must not trouble you,” he said. “Yes, Miss Fry, I will be careful if it pleases you.”

  He spoke lightly and she knew that his promise was but to soothe her and he had no intention of keeping it. Daringly she put out her hand and laid it on his arm.

  “Could you not tell me the truth?” she pleaded.

  He looked down into her eyes and knew quite well what she meant. For one moment he seemed to stand there spellbound and hesitant, seemingly about to surrender the citadel of his thoughts, for his steel-grey eyes lightened and she had a glimpse of the light-hearted man he might have been - a glimpse of happiness and laughter and of something else which made her shy. Then the mask dropped once more and he gave a little humourless laugh, oddly reminiscent of the one he had given in the woods the night they met.

  “Gad, Miss Fry, would you hound me?” he asked. “I have nothing to tell, alas. You asked me to promise you that I would be careful and I have given you my word.”

  Caroline turned her head aside. It was hopeless, she knew. The truth evaded her and there was nothing she could do about it

  “Then, my lord, if you will excuse me,” she said. ‘I will return to your Lady Mother.”

  She did not look at him and there was disappointment in her voice. She had moved only a step or two towards the door before he was at her side again and had taken her hand in his.

  “You will stay, Miss Fry?” he said. “You won’t leave the Castle? I want you to stay.”