Rachel Lindsay - Mask of Gold

by Rachel Lindsay

  'Ten thousand pounds.'

  'Holy smoke! That's a fortune!'

  'It is indeed. Particularly when you consider that the capital is untouched. Naturally you will have the Manor to maintain. It's an ugly old house, but the late Miss Nichols was fond of it.'

  'Is it absolutely irrevocable? The will, I mean? Is there no way of my getting out of it?'

  'Out of it? In what way?'

  'Of giving it back to Mrs. Nichols and her son.'

  Mr. Arnold shook his bald head vigorously. 'I spent nearly a week going through it with young Jeffrey. We even went so see Counsel in London. But it was watertight. Absolutely watertight.' He shrugged. 'I should know—I drew it up myself!'

  'And if I don't comply?'

  'Then there'll be too many well-fed cats!'

  Carolyn stood up and angrily paced the small area of carpet in front of the desk. 'I'm darned if I'll let it be wasted that way.'

  'I quite agree. Surely you can come to some amicable arrangement with the family? Mrs. Nichols did not have an easy time with her sister-in-law, you know. Miss Nichols was an autocratic woman given to little whims that, to quote the vernacular, drove the family up the wall!'

  Carolyn smiled dryly. 'They had it coming to them. They thought they were on to a good thing.'

  'Then at least you can appreciate their bitterness!'

  'Yes,' she conceded, 'but it doesn't make me feel any kindlier towards them. What happened to Mrs. Nichols' husband?'

  'He was killed in a car accident in Monte Carlo. His wife and two children were left without any money and they came to live at Royston Manor.'

  'How come Miss Nichols had the fortune?'

  'The old Air. Nichols was very astute. His son was dissolute, so he left everything to his daughter Agatha on condition that she gave her brother a certain sum each year. Young Jeffrey takes after his father, I think. At least he could if he had the money to be idle!' 'No wonder he hates me,' Carolyn murmured. 'He'd be rich if I weren't Piotr's guardian.'

  'He'll still be rich,' Mr. Arnold stated. 'His fiancee is extremely wealthy.'

  'She was the nicest person there last night. Mind you, her brother more than made up for it. He was even more antagonistic towards me than Mrs. Nichols and her son.'

  'Alvin Tyssen takes some knowing.'

  Carolyn's head jerked up sharply. 'Did you say Tyssen?'

  'Yes.'

  'Would he have any connection with a chemical or armament plant?'

  'Chemical. Though I believe it was given over to making armaments and explosives during the war. But that was in his father's time, though. He's dead now and Alvin runs it alone. A brilliant young man. Brilliant.'

  'Then he must be the person Peter hated! He held him responsible for the death of his mother and sister.'

  'I don't follow you.'

  'It was an air raid dining the war.'

  Mr. Arnold frowned. 'Ah yes, I remember. Practically a whole village wiped out.'

  'But the Tyssen plant remained intact!'

  'If it had been struck, many more people would have died. They employ over three thousand men.'

  Carolyn sighed. 'Peter still felt bitter about it—and about this man in particular.'

  'Alvin was a child at the time—so was Peter Kolsky.'

  'Children in particular feel the loss of their parents,' Carolyn said dryly.

  'Naturally. I'm not questioning that at all. But he had no cause to blame someone who was also a child when it happened.'

  'Emotions make one irrational.'

  'Obviously.' The solicitor leaned back in his chair. 'Peter Kolsky certainly made sure that Alvin suffered.'

  'In what way?'

  'Surely you know'—the buzzer rang loudly in the room and Mr. Arnold jumped up—'Forgive me, this contraption always frightens me out of my wits! It's a recent installation by my partner.' He pointed to a black box on his desk. 'Inter-office communication—so unnecessary. Walking across the hall to see my secretary or Air. Jefferson was the only exercise I managed to get.' He glanced at his watch. 'I don't like to hurry you but I've another appointment, I fear. If you could let me know next time you're coming…'

  'Of course. It was kind of you to see me.'

  'Not at all. I knew Rosemary and I liked her very much. As the guardian of her son, you mustn't let her down.'

  Carolyn smiled tremulously. 'And leave the money to cats? I've got my pride, Mr. Arnold, but not even pride would make me that stupid!' She was at the door when she turned to face him. 'Are you absolutely sure there's no way I can give Mrs. Nichols and her son the bulk of the money?'

  'No way at all.'

  'If we went to see another Counsel perhaps he— '

  'No, Mrs. Kolsky. I can assure you Jeffrey Nichols went into the matter most thoroughly. You are the boy's guardian, and you control the interest of his money until he comes of age.'

  Still pondering the problem, Carolyn left Mr. Arnold, and reached Royston Manor at one o'clock. There was a small shooting-brake parked at the bottom of the steps and as she entered the house, Ella came into the hall.

  'We were waiting lunch for you.'

  'I must give Piotr his first.' Carolyn avoided Ella's eyes. This was, after all, the sister of the man that Peter had hated so much. 'You'd better not wait for me.'

  'Piotr ate with Cook at half-past twelve. And afterwards she sent him upstairs for a rest.'

  'How convenient Cook was here,' Carolyn said sarcastically. 'It saved anyone else from having to bother with him!'

  'But Cook loved doing it,' the girl said ingenuously. 'She used to adore looking after Rosemary and Jeffrey when they were young. Just leave your coat in the hall and we'll go and eat.'

  At the risk of being churlish, Carolyn had no option but to accept, and leaving her coat on a chair she followed Ella down the corridor to the breakfast-room.

  Mrs. Nichols was already seated there, and looked at Carolyn with hostility. 'So you're back. Did you learn anything new from Mr. Arnold?'

  'Only that there's absolutely nothing I can do to alter the will.'

  'That must have made you very pleased!'

  'I'd be even more pleased if we could come to some amicable arrangement 1'

  'Those sound like Mr. Arnold's words,' Ella intervened quickly.

  'Naturally,' Mrs. Nichols retorted. 'Why should Mrs, Kolsky bother about a working arrangement between us? She's the mistress here and she can do exactly as she wants.'

  'I'm here as Piotr's guardian,' Carolyn replied. 'And Piotr is your grandson.'

  'Carolyn's right.' Ella put down her knife and fork. 'Please, mother-in-law-to-be, can't you and Carolyn be friends? Otherwise it'll be such an awful atmosphere for Piotr.'

  Mrs. Nichols stared at the table. 'You must realise, Ella dear, that you see Mrs. Kolsky in a different way from me. I can only see her as the widow of a man who robbed me of my daughter.'

  'You can't blame me for that,' Carolyn said passionately.

  'You loved a man that I loathed.'

  'I didn't love him! I told you that last night.'

  'Then you married him for the money that was left to his son—and that's even worse!' Mrs. Nichols stood up. 'If you'll excuse me, I'll finish my lunch in my room.'

  Only when they were alone did Ella speak, her tone as placatory as her expression. 'It's so difficult for her to accept the present position. Not just because of the money, but because seeing you reminds her of Rosemary. She was devoted to her.'

  'Not devoted enough to let her marry the man she loved. Or to forgive her after she'd done it.'

  'There were extenuating circumstances. You can't judge a person without knowing all the facts.'

  'That's what Mrs. Nichols is doing with me! She didn't wait until she saw me before deciding I was a gold-digger!'

  Ella smiled. ‘I don't think you are.'

  'Coming from the sister of a man who treats me like one, that's a very magnanimous remark!'

  'Now you're being unreasonable. Just because A
lvin's my brother doesn't mean we agree on everything.'

  Carolyn fingered the edge of her plate. 'I can understand why Peter disliked your brother—even though it was emotional—but I can't for the life of me see why your brother should have disliked him.'

  'Then you obviously don't know the facts,' Ella said quietly.

  'What do you mean?'

  'When Peter eloped with Rosemary, it was three weeks before she was due to marry Alvin!'

  'How dreadful!' Carolyn thought of the slim, slightly built man with his pale face and precise voice; but even though her anger had vanished she found it difficult to feel sympathy for someone so controlled and unemotional. 'I can't quite see them together,' she added. 'I only saw a snap of Rosemary, but from what Peter said about her she sounded the exact opposite of your brother.'

  'Alvin's changed a lot since those days.'

  'How old is he?'

  'Thirty-four. He's seven years older than I am.' 'I thought you were younger.'

  'Thanks,' Ella smiled. 'I expect it's because I'm happy. After waiting all this time for Jeffrey…' She stretched her arms above her head. 'I can't believe we're going to get married. I've been in love with him for years.'

  'What took him so long to make up his mind? If he knew you'—Carolyn stopped and rubbed the side of her cheek—'Oh! That sounds like a real nosy question. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.'

  'You're not prying. It's a perfectly logical question to ask. The fact is that Jeffrey asked me to marry him years ago, but I wouldn't.' 'Why not?'

  'Because of Rosemary. You see, when she eloped it messed things up for us.' 'How come?'

  'Because it was Jeffrey who actually introduced her to Peter. So he blamed himself for spoiling Alvin's life.' Ella's eyes glittered with unshed tears. 'Alvin took it very badly, you see. And the only way he could cope was to shut himself down emotionally. That's always been his trouble. When anyone hurts him he closes up like a clam.' 'And that stopped you from marrying Jeffrey?' 'Yes. I didn't have the heart to leave Alvin. Our parents died when I was ten and he really brought me up. If I'd married Jeffrey it would have caused him to stop seeing me.' 'But you were entitled to your own happiness.' 'Not at my brother's expense.' 'What happened then?'

  'We began to travel. Tyssen's have lots of branches round the world, and in the past five years we went to see every one of them. Then six months ago Alvin said it was high time I got married. He took me by surprise,' she confessed, 'and I blurted out that as long as I loved Jeffrey I could never be anyone else's wife.' Ella pushed away her plate. 'I never want to see such a look on Alvin's face again. He was horrified to think I'd been in love with Jeffrey all these years and not told him. Being Alvin, he acted at once. We returned to England, came to see Jeffrey, offered him a job at the factory and said he could start courting me all over again! From then on, Alvin's almost been normal.' 'He must have loved Rosemary very deeply.'

  'Or been hurt very much,' his sister said. 'Even if they married I don't think they'd have been happy for long. Rosemary was lovely and sweet, but Alvin only saw her as a child— not a woman. He would have spoilt her outrageously but never made her feel he needed her.'

  'Your brother doesn't strike me as the sort of person who needs anyone.'

  'That's because you don't know him. You wouldn't say that if you did.'

  Carolyn made a face. 'I can't help being prejudiced.'

  'But at least you can understand his feelings,' Ella remarked. 'If he'—she stopped as a maid came into the room—'Yes, what is it?'

  'There's a crowd of reporters at the door asking for Mrs. Kolsky and the boy.'

  Ella caught Carolyn's eye and made a face. 'I was afraid this would happen. Would you like Betty to tell them you're not in?'

  'What's the use? They'll just keep hounding me till they get an interview.' Carolyn stood up. 'I'll go out and get it over with. Don't worry, Ella, I'll be as discreet as I can.'

  With head held high, Carolyn left the room.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The return of Piotr to Royston Manor was a seven days' wonder for the newspapers. There were innumerable photographs of the house and a few of Mrs. Nichols and Jeffrey. There were also many candid shots of Carolyn, some so obviously taken with a zoom lens that for weeks she was afraid to go out without making sure there were no photographers around.

  Towards the middle of October the papers found other news to occupy them, peace returned once more to the village. With a determined effort Carolyn tried to settle down, but looking after one child instead of half a dozen occupied so little of her time that she was often bored.

  To begin with Mrs. Nichols completely disregarded her grandson, but after the first few days Piotr—encouraged by the adoration of Cook and Betty—no longer held his grandmother in awe and, tired of just being master in the kitchen, he began to take an interest in the rest of the house and its occupants.

  Jeffrey treated him with easy camaraderie, referring to him either as Lord Fauntleroy or Boss, both names amusing Piotr immensely. To begin with Mrs. Nichols looked on bleakly, but eventually she too began to be swayed by the little boy's artlessness and, as if sensing it, Piotr would often try and include her in the conversation.

  One afternoon Carolyn was sitting in the upstairs nursery with Piotr when Mrs. Nichols came in. Usually they only met at mealtimes and this was the first time the woman had entered the nursery since Carolyn had ordered it to be prepared for her use.

  'I'm sorry to disturb you,' Mrs. Nichols said, 'but I met Miss Talbot in the village. She runs a kindergarten about half a mile down the lane and I thought it would be a good idea for Piotr to go there. He'll be five soon and it's time he mixed with other children.'

  Carolyn nodded enthusiastically. 'Is it a proper school or a nursery?'

  'They play in the afternoon but have lessons in the morning. I don't know whether you've considered his schooling, but in England boys of good family are usually sent to boarding school.' 'I should have thought that in good families they were kept at home!'

  'You must do as you please,' Mrs. Nichols replied stiffly.

  'I didn't mean to be rude,' Carolyn said quickly, 'but back home most parents like having their kids around them.'

  'I'm merely telling you what is customary here. It's up to you to decide for yourself.'

  'Decide what?' Piotr asked, putting down the fire-engine he had been playing with.

  'Decide whether or not you'd like to go to a boarding school when you're older.'

  'The one Uncle Jeffrey went to?'

  'How do you know your uncle went to one?' Mrs. Nichols asked.

  'Cookie told me and then I asked him about it.' Piotr shook back his hair and laughed. 'He said I was rich enough to buy the damn place for myself.'

  'I see,' his grandfather said dryly. 'I'll have to have a word with your uncle.'

  'Why?'

  'Because little pitchers have big ears—and the sooner you're in school with children of your own age, the better. There's a lovely kindergarten not far from here, Piotr. Would you like to go there?'

  'Can I come home at night?'

  'Certainly.'

  'Then I'll go. But I like to see you all the time.'

  Mrs. Nichols was taken aback. 'You don't know me.'

  'You're my grandma, and Caro says all boys like their grandmas.'

  'That's very nice of your—of Mrs.—of Carolyn.' Mrs. Nichols patted his head awkwardly and went out, and Carolyn looked at Piotr.

  'One step further, honey.'

  'Further where?'

  'Into the charmed circle where you belong.'

  The following Monday Piotr started school, and at nine- thirty each morning Carolyn took him down the lane to the brick-built house where he learned simple lessons with a dozen other children. At twelve-thirty she collected him for lunch, returning him again at half-past two for another hour. Occasionally Betty offered to call for him, but more often than not Carolyn went herself, for it gave her something to do. Frequently she bro
wsed in the small library that opened twice a week in the church hall, and sometimes she would go for a long walk along the narrow lanes bordering the village.

  One afternoon, on her way to collect Piotr, she called in at the post office to buy some airmail stamps and a tall, heavily built man who was on his way out stepped forward in her path and almost knocked her down.

  'What a clumsy fool I am,' he said in a deep voice. 'And me not seeing there was anyone coming in! Are you hurt?'

  'Just winded,' she said breathlessly. 'I thought you were going to knock me out.'

  She turned to the counter and, as she bought her stamps, was aware of him looking at her for a moment before raising his cap to the postmistress and walking out. But when she came into the street again she was surprised to see him waiting for her beside a small sports car.

  'I hope you'll let me give you a lift? After nearly sending you flying I feel it's the least I can do.' 'I'm going to collect my stepson from school.'

  'Then allow me to take you. You're Mrs. Kolsky, aren't you?'

  'My fame has preceded me,' she said dryly. 'I'm sure it was a fame you could have done without,' he replied sympathetically. 'Incidentally, my fame isn't enough to need no introduction, I'm afraid! My name's Derek de Mancy.'

  'The artist?'

  'How did you know that?'

  'Betty—our maid—said an artist with a wild-looking beard had rented a cottage down by the shore. And you're the only beard I've seen for miles!'

  The brown eyes twinkled and he stroked the dark hair on his chin. 'At least I have my beard to thank for something! It's a relic of Navy days, I'm afraid. My sister threatens to leave me if I don't shave it off, but I'm still managing to resist her.' 'Do you like the beard so much?'

  'On the contrary. But I refuse to give in to Margaret! She's inclined to be bossy and if she once has her way with me, there'll be no stopping her!' Carolyn smiled. 'What sort of pictures do you paint?' 'Portraits mainly. I had one accepted at the Academy two years and it rather went to my head. Since then I've done a few commissions, but I'm finding it tough going.'

  'Most artists do, from what I hear. Do you do any other work?'