“But of course! You can see into the rooms!”
“I only looked – occasionally,” Demelza said. “I was – surprised to hear a lady speaking in the – drawing room when I came back from the – races and tonight I was going – downstairs because it was so hot in here and I wanted to breathe the – fresh air.”
“And you heard Sir Francis speaking?” the Earl prompted.
“I heard him speaking in a – strange voice that sounded somehow secretive and – sinister. I have not – listened or looked at other times, except the first night when – you were in the – dining room.”
She glanced up at him as she hoped he would understand and he said slowly,
“You heard me asking your brother about the White Lady?”
“Yes – I was in the– Minstrels’ Gallery.”
“Perhaps I was subconsciously aware of your presence there, but I was already intrigued as to how someone could vanish so completely in the Long Gallery unless they were a ghost.”
As if the words recalled to Demelza how angry Gerard would be at her having met the Earl, she rose to go once again to the cupboard. She came back with a piece of linen which she tore into strips.
“I am going to put this round your hand to keep it clean for tonight,” she said, “then please – will you – forget that you – have met – me?”
“Why?” the Earl asked.
“Because Gerard made me promise that I would not – come into the – house while – you were here. Unless I – promised, he said I must go away – but I had nowhere to go.”
“Have you any idea why your brother was so insistent that we should not meet?” the Earl asked.
He knew the answer by the way Demelza dropped her eyes and again there was a blush against the fairness of her skin.
“Your brother was quite right,” he said. “We will keep our meeting a secret, although I shall find it hard to explain how I managed to save Crusader.”
“You might just have felt intuitively that something was wrong,” Demelza suggested quickly. “I would not – wish you to – lie but Gerard would be so very – angry with me.”
“I see he has made me out to be a monster!” the Earl answered in an angry voice.
“Gerard admires you very – much, my Lord, as does – everyone else,” Demelza said. “It is just – ”
“ – just my unsavoury reputation where women are concerned,” the Earl finished.
There was no need for her to confirm that was the truth.
“Because I am so grateful to you,” he said, “for saving me and for saving Crusader, I will keep the fact that you and I have met a secret.”
“That is – kind of you. I would not – wish Gerard to – worry, which he – will do.”
“He shall remain in blissful ignorance of everything that has occurred,” the Earl promised.
He rose from the bed and putting out his unbandaged hand took Demelza’s in his.
“Thank you!” he said. “Thank you, my little White Lady, for all you have done for me. If Crusader wins tomorrow the victory will be yours.”
He kissed her hand.
Picking up his candle he took one last look at the strange pansy-coloured eyes raised to his. Then slowly he descended the narrow stairs.
Chapter Five
Sitting at the glittering gold-ornamented table at Windsor Castle, the Earl found it extremely difficult to concentrate on what was being said.
He had received the congratulations of everyone present and he had in fact felt that they were well deserved.
Crusader had won the Gold Cup, beating Sir Huldibrand after one of the finest and closest races ever seen at Ascot.
Sir Huldibrand had made the first running at a brisk rate as far as the dog kennels, then Crusader came in front and made the fastest pace down the hill.
At the turn of the course Crusader and Sir Huldibrand were neck to neck together and as the Earl heard someone say beside him,
“It was a toss up who would be the winner.”
Then there was a tremendous, slashing struggle between the two magnificent horses which ended with Crusader passing the winning post first by a nose.
“I have never seen a better race, Valient!” the King had said to the Earl when it was over, “but we might have guessed that as usual your persistent luck would enable you to carry off the highest trophy of the meeting.”
He gave a little sigh because, although it had been expected, his own horse had been unplaced.
But being genuinely fond of the Earl he had drunk his health not once but several times during the dinner at which the winner of the Gold Cup was always the Guest of Honour.
The Earl was aware that Lady Sydel was gazing at him across the table with an expression that he could not help thinking had something murderous about it!
Then he laughed to himself for being over-dramatic and was determined that he had no intention, however hard she might manoeuvre, of talking with her alone.
All through the race meeting he found himself searching the crowd with his field glasses for a face with huge pansy-coloured eyes and wearing what he was sure would be a white gown.
But it was impossible to distinguish anyone in the seething mob which was greater for the Gold Cup than at any other day of the week.
All along the course for nearly a mile were ranged lines of carriages and in front of them stood the spectators who had been temporarily driven from the track which they used as a promenade between the races.
In some places the carriages were ten deep and it was almost impossible for those at the back to have any chance of seeing the race.
Because of the fine weather and perhaps because everyone expected a fighting finish between the two horses on which an enormous amount of money had been wagered, it was more difficult than usual to clear the course. Originally the Earl remembered this was the duty of the Yeoman Pickers, but they had been succeeded by mounted patrols of Police.
The difficulty in getting everything ready for the actual race usually resulted, as it had this afternoon, in their running late.
The Earl, after he had changed his clothes at The Manor, had therefore been obliged to travel to The Castle at a speed, which made Jem, who accompanied him, occasionally draw in his breath apprehensively.
However, they arrived without mishap, although they learnt later there had been a number of accidents on the road to London in which at least two people had lost their lives and several horses had been badly injured.
The King, despite his gout, was in good spirits and the Earl thought that, whatever the criticism regarding Lady Conyngham, she was an attractive woman and made His Majesty happy.
The Earl found that everyone in the Royal party and the extra guests invited for the occasion were all close friends.
He had always been extremely fond of the Duke of York, who had enjoyed an excellent Ascot and was also receiving the congratulations on his wins.
“It’s my best ever race meeting,” he told the Earl sleepily, “and my horses have won me something handsome in the way of bets!”
The Duke of York was not clever, but he had an understanding of people which enabled him to avoid the errors into which his brothers had fallen, making them both unpopular and contemptible.
He was in fact both respected and loved and the Earl on many occasions had said confidentially to his friends,
“His Royal Highness is the only one of the Princes who has the feelings and behaviour of an English gentleman.”
At dinner the Earl had the attractive Princess Esterhazy on his left, who was only too willing to flirt with him as she had done so often on previous occasions.
But this evening he kept thinking of his strange adventure of the night before and the picture of Demelza kneeling in the Priests’ Room in front of the altar kept intruding on his mind when he least expected it.
He had a sudden urgent desire to be back in the quietness and mystery of The Manor and to open once again the secret door in the panelli
ng of his bedroom.
It was so insistent that, when the King retired immediately after dinner was over, saying that he was fatigued after the races and his gout was painful, the Earl went with him.
He did not say goodbye to anyone, knowing if he did so he would be detained for a long time.
Instead he followed the King to the door and, as if His Majesty realised what he was doing he good-humouredly took him by the arm and drew him outside the salon, leaning on him as they walked down the corridor.
“You cannot really intend to leave so soon, Valient?” he quizzed.
“A party loses its savour when you are not there, Sire,” the Earl replied flatteringly.
“What you mean is, there are other attractions elsewhere,” the King remarked with a twinkle in his eye.
The Earl did not reply and His Majesty continued,
“Lady Sydel asked me to intercede with you on her behalf. I gather she craves your forgiveness.”
“How unfortunate, Sire,” the Earl replied, “that you did not have an opportunity to speak intimately with me!” The King chuckled.
“Up to your old tricks, Valient? No woman likes being a ‘has-been’.”
The Earl thought that perhaps His Majesty was remembering how bitterly Mrs. Fitzherbert had complained when he discarded her for Lady Hertford.
So aloud he said,
“I know I can always rely on your understanding, Sire, and your vast knowledge of feminine vagaries.”
The King was delighted, as the Earl knew he would be.
“I do understand, Valient,” he replied. “But if you take my advice you will move quickly under cover before the hounds are on your scent!”
He laughed at his own joke, clapped the Earl on the back and went to his private apartments.
This enabled his guest to hurry down the stairs, call his phaeton and be away from Windsor Castle before the rest of the party had any idea that he had left.
Driving back to The Manor the Earl was determined that he would see Demelza again and talk to her.
Everything about her intrigued him and he told himself that he had never known a woman with such a spiritual and unusual beauty.
He wondered what she would look like in the daytime and was half-afraid that he might be disappointed.
Could her eyes really be the pansy shade he had thought them to be last night? Had she really a grace that was different from other women?
He remembered the softness of her hands as she had touched his and the manner in which she had bandaged him without being in the least self-conscious that he was sitting on her bed and they were alone.
He did not know any other woman who would have behaved in the same way in such circumstances.
‘She is only a child,’ he told himself.
Yet there had been a budding maturity in the lovely curves of her body and he thought too that she was intelligent as he had not expected a young girl to be.
‘I must see her,’ he vowed, ‘although of course on second acquaintance I may be disenchanted.’
It was as if he was being cynical merely to safeguard himself.
He knew that it was not only Demelza that he was finding so intriguing but her background – the beauty and mystery of The Manor, the secret staircase and of course the way she had saved both him and Crusader.
“She will expect me this evening,” he said aloud, remembering that he had told her that if Crusader won the Gold Cup the victory was hers.
It was only a little after ten o’clock when he reached The Manor and, because he had no desire to become involved with his guests who he knew were having a party, he drove not to the front door but directly into the stables.
His grooms came running to the horses’ heads. He stepped down and only pausing to congratulate Baxter once again on a very successful day, entered the house by the side door he had used the previous night.
When he was in the passage, he could hear laughter and voices coming from the dining hall and realised that the party was in full swing and doubtless the port decanter was being passed round the table continuously.
He moved quickly up the secondary staircase, which took him to the passage on which his bedroom opened.
He guessed that Dawson, not expecting him home so early, would be downstairs having his meal and in his bedroom the candles were not yet lit.
There was, however, still a faint glow in the sky from the sun which had set in a burst of golden glory behind The Castle.
The stars were coming out faintly overhead and there was a pale waif of a moon to be seen which the Earl knew that once it was fully risen would with its silver light make The Manor seem more enchanted than it appeared already.
He stood for a moment in his bedroom smelling the fragrance of the roses and seeking the scent of honeysuckle.
He thought it would tell him whether Demelza had come through the secret door today, if, as another woman would have done, she had wanted to look at where he slept and touch the things he had used.
But somehow, disappointingly, the perfume of honeysuckle was not discernible.
Closing the door into the passage quietly, the Earl walked across the room to grope as he had done the night before amongst the carving for the secret catch that would open the way to the twisting stairs.
He found it, pressed, but nothing happened!
He thought he must have been mistaken. He pressed again, but still the oak panel remained immobile.
For a moment he wondered if something had gone wrong and the catch had ceased to function. Then he was aware that the door had been barred.
Never in all the years he had pursued women or rather they had pursued him, could the Earl remember any other occasion when a door had been closed against him.
In fact, usually they were opened before he reached them and the occupant was in his arms without waiting for an invitation.
Perplexed, the Earl stood looking at the panelling as if he could hardly credit that he had been locked out.
Then he told himself it was a challenge and that was something he had never refused.
At the same time he wondered helplessly what he could do about it.
He could hardly knock on the wood and, even if he did, it was doubtful if Demelza would hear it at the top of the house.
He thought with a sudden feeling of despair that he had no other access to the secret staircase that led to the Priests’ Room.
He remembered that Demelza had said she had watched him from the Minstrels’ Gallery. That meant that there was an entrance there, but he could hardly go blundering about in the Gallery with his party sitting beneath him who might hear his movements.
The Earl was well aware that he had been fortunate last night in finding the secret catch merely because he had seen Demelza standing in his room.
Whoever had designed the labyrinth of passages and entrances had done so to save men’s lives and make the hiding-place almost impregnable unless they were betrayed.
In his bedroom the secret panel opened beside the fireplace, but he was quite certain that in other rooms its position would be very different.
How then could he spend hours, perhaps days and weeks, searching for another entrance in a house which he had already noticed, where almost every room was panelled?
‘What can I do?’ he asked himself.
Now his desire to see Demelza was increased a thousand-fold simply because she was elusive.
“I have to see her! I will see her!” he said aloud, and swore beneath his breath that he would not be defeated.
Without consciously realising what he was doing since he was concentrating so completely on the problem that beset him, he opened the door of his bedroom and walked slowly and thoughtfully down the corridor.
He was in fact working out how the house was constructed and trying to guess where the walls were most likely to be wide enough to contain a passage.
At the same time he wanted to co-ordinate it with the route he had taken last night when he had cl
imbed to the very top of the building.
He had seen Demelza first in the Long Gallery, but that was at an angle to the centre part of the house.
He did not seem to be getting very far with his calculations when at the far end of the passage beyond the main staircase he saw a figure carrying a tray.
He recognised Nattie and knew that she had come up a third staircase from the kitchens that lay beyond the stairs he had used himself.
Nattie turned left and walked away from him. Alert and interested, the Earl followed her at a respectful distance keeping to the side of the corridor.
The candles had not yet been lit and the passage was almost in darkness. He was half-afraid that Nattie would disappear and he would lose her, as he had lost the White Lady in the Long Gallery.
Then she stopped and, balancing her tray with one hand, she opened a door with the other.
She disappeared inside and the Earl quickened his pace and walked hurriedly to the door which Nattie, having passed through, had pushed to with her foot.
But it was not completely closed and, opening it just a fraction so that he could look inside, the Earl had a glimpse of the nurse disappearing through a panel in the wall on the other side of the room.
The curtains were undrawn over the windows and there was enough light for him to see that the room was not in use. There were holland covers on the bed, the chairs and over the dressing table.
The Earl realised that luck was with him and he held his breath, for he saw that, although Nattie had entered the secret passage, she had not, because she was encumbered with the tray, shut the panel behind her.
Quickly he entered the room and crossed to the opposite wall.
Hearing Nattie’s footsteps moving rather heavily upwards, he waited for a few seconds. Then swiftly and silently he entered through the dark aperture and inside he moved down the stairs until he thought that he would be out of sight when Nattie returned.
He heard a faint murmur of voices far away, then leaning against the wall in the darkness he told himself that once again his winning streak had not failed him.
*
“I’m sorry to be late, dearie,” Nattie said, as she entered the Priests’ Room.
The Ghost Who Fell in Love Page 9