An Introduction To The Eternal Collection Jubilee Edition

by Cartland, Barbara

  Caroline was convinced that it was essential at least until Harriet and Thomas Stratton were firmly established in their relationship to each other that the Vicar should continue to breathe the fire and smoke of vengeance.

  “I must warn Vane,” Caroline said to herself and then remembered how she had left him the night before. Instantly she was angry with herself, for above all things Caroline despised weakness and she had indeed been weak when she had let Vane frighten and bully her into an indecisive frailty which was very foreign to her nature.

  It was the reference to Cassy which had defeated her yet now with the golden fingers of the morning creeping between the drawn curtains Caroline told herself that Cassy should not prove a battle-ground on which she would acknowledge defeat. If there were a thousand Cassys in existence, she would still love Vane and he would still love her. Let the future take care of itself! If later they must live in the shadow of fear with a ghostly horror of what might be continually in their minds, at least they might enjoy a fool’s paradise for as long as they could.

  Caroline pulled the bell-rope and got out of bed.

  “I will not be frightened, I will not be intimidated,” she said aloud, “for above all things I love Vane.”

  And the very reiteration of her love for him seemed to give her a new strength, a strength which would overcome all devils.

  She remembered then that he had said that today he would visit the Bishop. She must prevent that at all costs. She must win him round to her way of thinking, for she was determined there should be no dissolution of their marriage even though that marriage so far had been only a duel of bitterness and conflict.

  “You are early, m’lady,” Maria exclaimed from the door.

  “Take a message to his lordship,” Caroline commanded. “Inform him that I desire to see him on the most urgent matter before he goes riding this morning. Find out what time his lordship intends to step forth, and bring me my chocolate immediately.”

  “Very good, m’lady,” Maria answered, and she hurried from window to window drawing the curtains.

  The sunlight came flooding into the room. Caroline felt its golden warmth on her body. She raised her face to it, closing her eyes and imagining for the moment that it caressed her as Vane had done before he had become angry and incensed with her.

  Engrossed in her thoughts, she did not realise that Maria had left the room and it was with a sense of surprise that she realised that she had returned, her errand accomplished.

  “His lordship has received your message, m’lady, and will await your pleasure in the library. I understand the grooms have instructions to bring his horse to the door at half after nine.”

  Caroline thought for a moment and then exclaimed,

  “Maria, I have an idea. I will ride with his lordship. My habit came yesterday, did it not, in the trunks from Mandrake?”

  “Yes, m’lady, ‘tis here.”

  “Very well, put it out for me,” Caroline instructed, “but first send a message to the stable for a horse to be brought round for me at the same time as his lordship has ordered his.”

  “Very good, m’lady.” Maria answered, and Caroline began to dress with a rising sense of excitement.

  If Vane insisted on visiting the Bishop, she thought, then she would go with him. At least it would be a change to ride beside him over the countryside rather than to argue and bicker as they had done these past days in the gloomy atmosphere of the library.

  How she hated that room, as indeed she hated the whole Castle! It might be her future home, it might be against this background that she would have to create her happiness. But she knew that she detested the whole building. It was tainted, impregnated with gloom, misery and a sense of evil which was inescapable.

  Never, she knew, would she be able to look at the towers without remembering whom they imprisoned, never would she be able to enter the Great Hall and see the long line of family portraits hung on its panelled walls without remembering that Vane’s dark-eyed ancestors, looking down with a pictured benevolence, were in reality, the cause of the monstrosity which was Cassy and were responsible for her murderous instincts.

  No, she hated Brecon Castle though she loved its owner to the exclusion of all else. If was no use, Caroline thought, in a situation like this trying to argue what would be a sensible course of action, for even if she allowed Vane to dissolve their marriage, he would still be living in the world, still be overshadowed by his horrifying secret, still contemplating the misery and loneliness of a future isolated from all that could make a man’s life happy.

  Could she face the thought of that? She knew it was impossible. Not under any circumstances could she take up the threads of a separate existence, knowing that she must abandon Vane and leave him to his most unjust deserts. No, for good or evil, for better or worse, their lives were linked together. The vows that she had made at the marriage ceremony came to her mind. She repeated them to herself and knew that they were as sacred to her now as at the moment she had made them.

  Cassy should not be allowed to interfere. Cassy should not render the Sacrament of Marriage null and void because of fear. Caroline recalled that last night Vane had given her a choice. She knew now, as she dressed, that her choice was made, her mind made up. This was the turning point. Now there would be no going back, no hesitating.

  With a light in her eyes and a smile on her lips Caroline descended the stairs to the library. She was wearing a riding habit of pale green velvet trimmed with braid in a darker tone the facings of her coat and cuffs were of shining satin and a long red feather curved from her high-crowned hat on to her shoulder. She looked lovely, and she was aware of it even before she saw the admiration in Vane’s eyes as she entered the room.

  He looked tired but otherwise his looks were unimpaired by the way he had spent the night. He bowed to Caroline and waited for her to speak. Crossing the room, she stood close to him, raising her eyes, her lips curved in a smile.

  “May I come with you this morning, Vane?”

  His hesitation was too brief to be a reality.

  “I would be honoured,” he said quietly. “I have never seen you on a horse.”

  “I hope you have something spirited to offer me.” Caroline said, “my father’s mounts are famous for their Arab strain.”

  “That is a challenge which I must do my best to answer,” Lord Brecon said, and there was a faint smile at the corner of his lips.

  “I have sent a message to the stables that I am riding this morning,” Caroline said, “But it was on another matter that I wished to speak with you. It is about Harriet.”

  “I remember you told me last night that she had eloped with Thomas Stratton,” Lord Brecon said. “Do not tell me they have returned already?”

  No, of course not,” Caroline answered. “It is only that the reason for their elopement was that the Vicar objected most forcibly to Mr. Stratton. This was perhaps in part my fault, for I informed him quite truthfully that Mr. Stratton was the sixth son of his father who is impoverished.”

  Lord Brecon looked at her and then burst out laughing.

  “Caroline, you are incorrigible. In other words, Thomas was interested in Harriet because she was forbidden fruit.”

  “Exactly!” Caroline answered. “I collect that things had been made too easy for him this past year, an eligible young man always has a following of hopeful spinsters.”

  “But how does this concern me?” Lord Brecon asked.

  “Well, I have the idea that, when the Vicar discovers that Harriet is missing, he will come post-haste here to discover if you have any knowledge of her whereabouts. Do not tell him of Mr. Stratton’s real circumstances, for I believe that the longer he makes things difficult for the young people, the firmer will be the foundation on which they will build their future happiness.”

  Lord Brecon laughed again.

  “How many nefarious plots are evolving in that small head of yours?” he asked.

  He spoke caressingly, but
as Caroline glanced up at him quickly, he remembered what lay between them and stiffened. Caroline laid her hand on his arm.

  “No, Vane, do not continue to be incensed with me,” she pleaded. “Later I have many things to discuss with you, but it is too early for dramatics and heart-burnings. Let us go riding together and forget that we are anything but two carefree people who have met – and taken a liking for one another.”

  .Lord Brecon’s face softened. He raised Caroline’s hand to his lips,

  “Shall we have one last day of pretence?” he asked. “Let. us pretend then, that we have met, found happiness together, and that the future will be always fair.”

  There was something in his voice and in the look in his eyes that made Caroline catch her breath and instinctively her fingers tightened on his.

  “Yes, let us, pretend just that, Vane. You do not intend to visit the Bishop today?”

  Lord Brecon shook his head.

  “No, tomorrow,” he answered. “I have just read in the Morning Post that his lordship leaves Canterbury this morning and repairs to Knole as the guest of my Lord Sackville. Knole is but a few miles from here and so I will visit his lordship there. I read also that Lord Milborne, the Chief Justice, will be among the guests.”

  “Uncle Francis!” Caroline exclaimed, deciding in that moment that nothing should prevent her accompanying Lord Brecon on the morrow.

  But this was not the moment for arguments. Fate in the shape of the Bishop’s movements had made it possible for Vane to offer her a truce. She was only too ready to accept any olive-branch however slender and to snatch at the chance of a delay, however short, in his plan to seek the dissolution of their marriage. She smiled at him, a sudden happiness illuminating her face.

  “Let tomorrow take care of itself,” she said gaily, “we have today, Vane, you and I.”

  Once again he raised her hand to his lips but he looked at her mouth so that she felt as if he kissed her. It was then that she vowed within herself that the day should not pass without her knowing again the thrill and the rapture of being close in his arms. The temptation to touch him was so strong that it was with an effort she turned towards the door.

  “The sun is calling us, Vane, and the horses wait outside!”

  Walking closely together, they came to the hall where Bateson, the butler, was waiting with his lordship’s hat and whip. Lord Brecon took them and, moving to the front door he stood for a moment at the top of the steps, looking down at the horses which were waiting for them. Both were fine animals, one a deep chestnut, the other so pale a grey that its coat was almost white. They were prancing restlessly, their grooms finding it hard to hold them.

  “You have a good eye for horse-flesh, Vane,” Caroline said.

  He smiled at her and there was an expression of pride on his face at her words.

  “I rather flatter myself that my stable is exceptional,” he said, “but I was not too confident after all I have heard of the Mandrake breed.”

  As they spoke together, there was the sound of wheels and a smart yellow curricle drawn by a tandem of bays came spanking up the drive from the stables. A groom was driving and a small, sharp-faced tiger was perched behind. The tiger -a boy of about fourteen - jumped down and ran to hold the leading horse.

  “For whom is this?” Caroline enquired.

  “It belongs to Gervase, I believe,” Lord Brecon answered and turned his head towards Bateson who was lurking in the background.

  “Is Mr. Warlingham going driving, Bateson?”

  “Mr. Warlingham is leaving, m’lord.”

  Lord Brecon raised his eyebrows.

  “I had not heard of his decision to terminate his visit.”

  “I suppose we must wait to say good-bye,” Caroline said, anxious that the dark presence of Mr. Warlingham should not dim this moment of happiness yet already her thoughts were wondering at his sudden departure, seeking a reason for it.

  Then quite clearly she found the answer. If, as she knew from last night, there was a crime to be committed or dirty work afoot, Mr. Warlingham would see to his alibi. It would not be policy for him to be in the Castle, although she doubted whether he would leave the neighbourhood.

  She glanced quickly at the groom who was climbing down from the driving seat of the curricle. Yes, it was the man she had seen at the Temple last night. There was no mistaking that almost square head, thick neck and deformed ear and now she saw that he must, as she had suspected, have been a bruiser. The bridge of his nose was broken and there was a deep scar on his upper lip which gave his face a most unpleasant expression.

  As he descended the horses champed at their bits and the leader started to rear. Instantly the tiger raised his clenched fist and brought it down with extreme violence on the horse’s nose. As Caroline gave a little gasp of astonishment, Lord Brecon ran down the steps and seized the boy by the collar.

  “How dare you treat a horse in such a fashion?” he said angrily, and picking up the boy by the neck of his coat, he shook him as a terrier shakes a rat.

  “That was a foul blow,” he continued, “and if you were in my employ, I would dismiss you instantly.”

  He shook him again and the boy with the white face screamed,

  “I be sorry, Gov’nor, lemme go. I be sorry.”

  In answer Lord Brecon released his hold so that the boy sprawled on the gravel.

  “You had best get away from here,” he said angrily, “for if I ever see you again ill-treating an animal in such a way, I will thrash you within an inch of your life. Do you understand?”

  “Yus, sir, I be sorry, sir,” the boy whined, and jumping to his feet, edged away behind the curricle as if he were afraid that Lord Brecon would change his mind and thrash him there and then.

  “What is happening?” a voice said beside Caroline, and she saw that Mr. Warlingham was standing in the doorway.

  She did not answer his question, but wondered how much he had overheard. He descended to where Lord Brecon was soothing the frightened horse, patting and talking to it in a way it seemed to understand for instantly it became quieter.

  “I must apologise, Vane if my tiger is inexperienced,” Gervase Warlingham said.

  “Inexperienced is hardly the word!” Lord Brecon said sharply. “The boy has obviously no feeling for animals. You would do well to be rid of him, Gervase.”

  Mr. Warlingham looked at the groom who was standing stiffly beside the curricle.

  “See to it, Jackson,” he said briefly, and the man nodded. “And now I must bid you farewell, Vane,” Mr. Warlingham said. “I have heard this morning that my presence is urgently required in London. It is hard to leave such a pleasant party, but I must tear myself away. Good-bye, Vane.”

  He held out his hand and Lord Brecon shook it.

  “Good-bye, Gervase. Come again when you feel like rusticating.”

  “I shall look forward to availing myself of your invitation,” Mr. Warlingham replied, and turned to Caroline, who had come slowly down the steps while they were talking.

  “Good-bye, my new and very charming cousin,” he said suavely. “May I proffer a most sincere wish for your future happiness?”

  There was something in his tone which made Caroline long to throw his wishes back in his face. Instead, she dropped him a curtsey and moved away without extending her hand.

  “Good-bye, sir,” she said briefly.

  Mr. Warlingham sprang into the driving seat and the grooms hurried to their places. With a flick of his whip the horses started off at a fine speed.

  Caroline sighed as she watched the curricle out of sight, She was certain, that they had by no means seen the last of Mr. Warlingham. Yet once again she had nothing on which to base such a suspicion.

  The grey horse was brought forward but when she waited for the groom to help her mount, Lord Brecon was before him and putting his hands on her waist, swung her up into the saddle.

  “I have not forgotten how light you are,” he said softly.

  She lo
oked down into his face, forgetting everything save that she was in love and that she was speaking with a man who loved her.

  As they rode away together over the green parkland, it seemed to Caroline that the day was enchanted. It was a feeling that was, to deepen as the hours passed. Lord Brecon led her over the broad meadows of his estate on to the common where the land climbed high until beneath them lay a wondrous view of the country spread out in all its unspoilt loveliness.

  They reined in their horses under the shadow of a clump of gaunt pine trees and there, as Caroline looked at the view, Lord Brecon looked at her.

  “Is there anything lovelier than a lovely woman sitting on a fine horse?” he asked.

  Caroline dimpled at him and asked softly,

  “Can we rest awhile?”

  “Why not?” he enquired and dismounting, tied his horse to a tree then he lifted Caroline to the ground.

  She spread her skirts over the soft carpet of fallen pine needles the fragrance of them was in the air, and the only sounds were the buzzing of bees and the song of the birds.

  Having tied Caroline’s horse, Lord Brecon lowered himself beside her. He stretched himself out and reclining on one elbow, took off his hat.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “You!” Caroline replied truthfully.

  “And I think only of you,” he said. “Caroline, I believe you are a witch, for you have cast a spell over me from which I can never escape.”

  “I am glad of that,” Caroline said, “for spells, if they be potent ones, invariably last a hundred years, or so I am told.”

  “And what good would that be?” Lord Brecon asked. “For I vow a hundred years with you, Caroline would seem but as many swiftly, speeding minutes and I should still be hungry for more.”

  “Would you?” she whispered.

  In answer he stood up and, reaching forward, took her hand in his. Gently he drew the glove from it, then turned it upwards and looked down at the network of lines crossing and re-crossing her palm.