The dagger he was holding tore her gown on the shoulder, inflicting a slight scratch on the skin beneath it.
But Dorina’s head struck the floor with the whole force of Jarvis’s body on top of her.
Then, as the Earl and Harry dragged him off her, they were aware that he was already dead and the dagger with which he had tried to kill her clattered to the ground from his lifeless fingers.
For a moment Dorina had been knocked unconscious, but soon she opened her eyes to find herself lying on the bed with the Earl sitting beside her holding a glass of champagne to her lips.
“Try to drink a little,” he coaxed.
His arm was behind her shoulders and, although she wanted to tell him that she had no wish to drink, he pressed the rim of the glass to her lips and forced her to drink a little.
Then, as she looked at him with frightened eyes, the Earl said quietly,
“It is all right! Jarvis is dead and once again you have saved my life, Dorina!”
“He had – put poison into your – champagne.”
“I realised what had happened when I saw you carrying the glass back to the table,” the Earl said. “It was very brave and clever of you.”
She did not speak, but he knew from the expression in her eyes what she was asking and he said,
“I have told Harry to take Jarvis’s dead body into the room next door and to send a groom for the doctor. I expect he will find that my cousin died from a heart attack after driving down from London at such a speed, then drinking too quickly after so much exertion.”
As he spoke, once again the Earl was lifting the glass of champagne to her lips.
“This will make you feel better,” he urged. “You have had a dreadful shock.”
“I thought – he was – going to – kill me,” Dorina whispered.
“He was mad!” the Earl said firmly. “But he can no longer menace either you or me and we can forget him!”
Dorina thought as he spoke how stupid she had been to be frightened for Rosabelle, but not for herself.
It had never struck her for one instant, in order to fulfil his desires, that she could be the sacrifice Jarvis had promised to Satan.
She supposed it was because she was always thinking of herself as so much older rather than the young and innocent virgin required in Black Magic.
“Forget it! Forget everything about it!” the Earl said quietly. “You have been magnificent, utterly and completely magnificent! But now I want you to go home. You must not be involved as Harry and I are bound to be when the doctor arrives.”
As he spoke, Harry came into the room and said,
“You are quite right, Oscar. Dorina must not be mixed up in any of this. I will take her home and I suggest you rest until the doctor gets here, when we shall have to be very convincing about what happened.”
“I shall be!” the Earl replied.
He rose from the bed and Harry helped Dorina to her feet.
“Can you walk?” he asked. “Or would you like me to carry you?”
“No – of course I can – walk.”
She did, in fact, feel rather shaky, but she was determined not to appear weak and helpless in front of the Earl.
She gave him a brave little smile as she asked,
“Please – will you take care of – yourself – although now I know that – nothing else can – harm you.”
“I would say it is very unlikely, but if you two had not been here to witness what did occur, I would think I was dreaming.”
Dorina felt the same as she drove back with Harry in the phaeton to the Vicarage.
She thought it would be difficult even to make her father believe that at Yarde, of all places, there had been poisoned champagne, a huge black bird and Jarvis, after trying to kill her, dying instantaneously from the poison he had intended for the Earl.
Because she was very quiet, Harry said,
“I want you to go upstairs and go straight into bed. I will see your father and tell him what has happened and ask him to arrange the funeral. I know your Nanny will understand that you should rest after the shock of seeing your cousin die.”
Dorina did not argue and, when they reached the Vicarage, she did as Harry had suggested and went upstairs to her bedroom, where a little later Nanny joined her.
“I’ve never heard such goings-on in quiet Little Sodbury!” she said, as she bustled into the room, “and Mr. Harringdon’s right when he says your seeing Mr. Jarvis die has been a nasty shock. Now, get into bed and I’ll bring you some hot milk.”
“I will be – all right, Nanny,” Dorina managed to murmur.
But she knew it would be no use arguing with Nanny and Harry was right in realising that she had had a severe shock.
How could it be possible after the quiet uneventful life she had lived for nineteen years that all these dramatic, terrifying experiences should happen one after another?
Then she told herself that it was all over, the Earl was safe, Jarvis was dead and there would be no more Black Magic with threats of human sacrifices again at Yarde.
‘No one would ever believe that I was telling the truth,’ she mused.
Yet she found herself, as she fell asleep, wondering if the black bird that had appeared so suddenly had been real or if perhaps Jarvis had hypnotised them all into seeing it.
*
It was not until later in the evening, when Nanny exclaimed over the fact that her gown was torn at the shoulder, that Dorina realised that the scratch on her arm from the dagger that Jarvis had intended to kill her with was inflamed.
She could feel it throbbing and told Nanny that she had simply scratched herself.
Although instantly Nanny bathed the wound with one of the lotions her mother had made against infections, nevertheless it was uncomfortable during the night and the next morning, when Dorina wanted to get up, Nanny insisted that she was to stay in bed.
“I’m not going to have any arguments!” she insisted. “You’re not well and here’s where you’ll stay until you are better!”
“I cannot leave you to do everything, Nanny,” Dorina protested.
To her surprise Nanny laughed.
“You’ve no need to worry about that, Miss Dorina. I’ve got two people to help me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, his Lordship sent Mrs. Meadows over yesterday afternoon when you was asleep to ask how you were. She brought us a great deal more food and instructions from his Lordship that you were to rest while Mrs. Meadows was to find me some help in the house.”
Dorina was listening wide-eyed as Nanny went on,
“She sent me a very nice woman who’s had some experience up at the Big House and she also suggested and I might have thought of it myself, that we have Mary Bell here for a few months.”
“What a good idea!” Dorina exclaimed.
“That’s what Mrs. Meadows thought, seeing the girl might be embarrassed just at the moment to go back to Yarde and might also feel nervous.”
“Can we really afford so much?” Dorina asked.
“We can afford it and a good deal more,” Nanny replied, “if you can prevent your father from giving every penny away to anybody who touches his heart.”
Dorina laughed.
“That is going to be difficult!”
“I knows that,” Nanny said, “but I’ll persuade your father somehow that ‘charity begins at home’. And if his Lordship continues to send us some of his stipend in the form of food, it’ll make things a lot easier here all round!”
Dorina laughed again.
She thought, in fact, it was not a bad idea, but she felt too weak at the moment to think things out and was merely content to do as she was told.
She slept most of the day and, although she was curious as to what was happening at Yarde, she knew that if she tried to get up, Nanny would stop her.
Rosabelle and Peter were perfectly happy because once again horses had been sent for them after their lessons and they had ridden
over parts of the estate they had seldom visited before and had found it a marvellous experience.
“I wish you had been with us, Dorina,” Rosabelle said, sitting on her sister’s bed, “but as the Earl has been so generous, I am sure, as soon as you are up, you will be able to have a horse whenever you want and we can all go out riding together.”
“We must not – impose on – him,” Dorina tried to say weakly, but Rosabelle replied,
“It says in the Bible, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive’! So it would be wrong of you to try to stop him from giving us horses to ride and all that delicious food to eat!”
Dorina laughed and Rosabelle kissed her, saying,
“Get well soon! Because we are being especially good as you are in bed, I am going now to do my homework, even though I find it terribly boring.”
It was her father who brought Dorina news of exactly what was happening.
The doctor, she learned, had come back from his mother’s funeral and had agreed with the Earl that Jarvis had died of a heart attack.
His body had already been taken to the Church and the funeral was to take place early the next morning.
“It will be very quiet since none of the relatives have been informed,” the Vicar said. “Later, of course, they will be told, but I doubt if any of them will miss Jarvis, as he was very unpopular with everybody except for his own fast friends in London.”
Dorina had nothing to say and her father went on,
“His Lordship is up and making a great number of plans for improvements on the estate. He tells me he is feeling extremely well thanks to some strengthening herb you have given him.”
“It was the ginseng that your friend sent you from China!” Dorina exclaimed.
“I had forgotten about that. The cacti he sent me are flourishing and are twice the size since the last time you looked at them.”
“I will get up tomorrow.”
After he had gone, Dorina lay thinking that perhaps now that the excitement was over and the Earl was safe and busy with his own plans, she would no longer be of any help to him and he could manage perfectly well on his own.
She wondered why it made her feel so disappointed and hurt in a manner that was almost physical.
Then she told herself that she was being very childish. Why should he be interested in her when he could manage the estate himself?
He now had the right servants at Yarde, his relations would soon be flocking round him and the neighbours would be only too ready to be friendly.
It was a depressing thought, though she tried to console herself with the fact that by approaching the Earl in the first place she had managed not only to save his life, but also to make their own lives very much happier and more comfortable than they had been in the past.
How could she have imagined, when she was so despondent and literally lacking the money to buy enough food, that Nanny would now have two women to help her and each meal would be more delicious than the last?
Even her father seemed less absent-minded than he had been since her mother’s death. ‘At least I have achieved something,’ she told herself soothingly.
But she knew that every instinct in her body cried out for more.
She wanted to help the Earl, she wanted him to need her assistance and to ask her advice.
Quite simply, she wanted to be with him.
But knowing that to be an impossibility, Dorina felt the tears come into her eyes and, although it seemed ridiculous, the future seemed bleak and empty.
‘It is absurd to ask for more,’ she thought unhappily.
And yet she knew that she wanted more, very much more, but was afraid to put into words exactly what she did want.
Chapter seven
The Earl had woken with a feeling of well-being which was only slightly overshadowed by the knowledge that he had to attend Jarvis’s funeral at ten o’clock.
Harry was waiting for him downstairs in the breakfast room and greeted the Earl as he entered,
“Well, at least we have a nice day for it!”
“I refuse to talk about it,” the Earl replied. “When I think of the way he has behaved, I consider it a farce, not to say hypocrisy, that he should be buried in Christian ground.”
“So do I,” Harry agreed. “At the same time, I think, Oscar, you have been astute enough to avoid any scandal which would reflect on the family name and you can thank Dorina for that.”
The Earl helped himself from a variety of silver dishes on the sideboard and sat down at the table.
“I agree with you,” he said. “Even now I can hardly believe that a young girl living in a small village should not only have had the bravery to confront someone as evil as my cousin, but also have had the knowledge to prevent his poison killing me as he intended.”
Harry poured himself another cup of coffee as he added laconically,
“Well, justice has been done and one could almost say that he died by his own hands.”
When breakfast was finished, they drove in a closed carriage to the Church, where the Vicar was waiting for them.
There were no other mourners and the Earl noticed that, strangely enough, there were no villagers present.
He was, therefore, certain that, although they had tried to keep secret what had actually occurred, the household at Yarde had become aware that Jarvis had in some way threatened him personally and the information would have flown through the village like wildfire.
Anyway, there was no one to stand by the graveside as the coffin was lowered into it by the gravediggers, except himself and Harry, and he felt that only the Vicar prayed for the dead man with any sincerity.
After the service was over, they thanked him, but did not talk intimately about what had occurred, although they were well aware that with the exception of Dorina, he was the only other person who knew the truth about Jarvis’s death and the evil powers he had evoked to aid him.
The Earl had already made a mental note that the Church was in need of structural repairs and he thought that it was important that whenever he was at Yarde, he should attend the Services there on a Sunday.
He was sure, he told himself with a wry smile, it was something which Dorina would expect him to do.
As he drove back with Harry, he was thinking that in some strange way his whole attitude towards what was demanded of him in his new position had fundamentally changed.
He had, when he left Paris, been prepared to do a great deal of reorganising and, as he had said most misguidedly to Richardson, to bring in new ideas and perhaps new people to Yarde.
What he had not anticipated was that he should have to be here what he had been in the war – a leader, a commander and, if possible, a hero to his people.
Now, in a twisted way, Jarvis had shown him that, although it was something he did not like to think of himself as being, he must be good.
He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not realise that Harry, who was so close to him, understood that he wanted to be silent and did not speak until the horses came to a standstill outside the front door.
Then he said,
“Let us change, Oscar, and I think you are well enough to ride for an hour or so. Nothing strenuous, but I feel sure that the exercise would do you good.”
“That is exactly what I had intended to do,” the Earl replied, “and actually I feel extraordinarily well. It must be due to that strange herb that Dorina gave me which came from China.”
“I was going to ask you about that. Does it really make any difference?”
“All I can tell you is that I feel better than I ever have in my life! What is more, my brain seems clearer and I can think of a thousand things I want to do.”
Harry held up his hands in pretended horror.
“Now you are frightening me!” he said. “I know what you are like when you are planning a new campaign and expect it to start operating instantaneously!”
The Earl laughed as they walked up the stairs side by side and he tho
ught he must remember to tell Dorina how excellent he thought her Chinese herb was and ask her to make him some more.
It did not take the Earl long to change and, when he came downstairs, the horses were waiting.
He and Harry rode over the Park, galloped the horses on a level piece of ground and then, as it was nearing luncheontime, returned to the house.
All the time he was riding, the Earl was appreciating, as he had been unable to do before, how beautiful his estate was and how magnificent the house looked set against the fir woods with the gardens brilliant with colour sloping down to the lake.
No wonder, he told himself, that it was the focal point of the family and the Yardes, wherever they might be in the world, thought of their ancestral mansion as home.
He and Harry walked together into the library, where he knew there would be drinks, if they wanted them, before luncheon and the morning papers that had arrived.
There had been so much to keep his mind occupied at Yarde that the Earl thought somewhat guiltily that he was out of touch with what was happening in London both socially and politically.
He had just picked up The Morning Post when the door opened and Burrows announced,
“Lady Maureen Wilson, my Lord, and Sir Roger Chatham.”
The Earl looked up in surprise as Lady Maureen came into the library looking beautiful but overdressed and over-painted.
She was wearing a gown of emerald green, which was matched by her jewels and ostrich feathers floated defiantly on her high-crowned bonnet.
With a little cry of delight she ran across the room holding out her hands to the Earl and saying,
“How could you neglect me for so long, Oscar darling? It is because I could not live without you that I have come to the country.”
The Earl, who had stiffened as she approached him, took one of her hands and raised it perfunctorily to his lips before he said,
“This is certainly a surprise, Maureen. I was not expecting either you or the gentleman accompanying you.”
“Roger was kind enough to bring me in his phaeton,” Lady Maureen replied, “and he is convinced that he has broken your record with his new team, which is quite magnificent!”
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