Love Strikes a Devil

by Barbara Cartland

She was therefore certain that so much wine was sheer extravagance on Gervais’s part.

  She peeped into the dining room.

  As she had expected, there were a number of half-empty bottles standing on the sideboard.

  There were also some clean knives and forks on it.

  She put two on the plate and picked up a bottle of claret.

  It was about three-quarters full, which was all she could safely carry.

  Slowly, because both the plate and the bottle were heavy, she went up the stairs that she had just come down.

  She was being careful not to trip over the front of her negligee.

  It would not only make a noise, but would be a disaster when Vincent was so hungry.

  Now she could think about him again and it still seemed almost impossible to realise that he was really there and not dead.

  She hurried down the passage because she was so thrilled at being able to go back to him.

  When she reached her bedroom door, she was just about to put down the bottle so as to open it, when it was opened from inside.

  Vincent was standing there and she walked in.

  He did not speak until he had closed the door behind her, when he said,

  “I was getting worried because you took so long. You did not see anybody?”

  “Nobody saw me,” Charisa said, “and I have brought you enough so that at least you will not feel hungry until tomorrow.”

  Vincent took the plate from her.

  “You are a wonderful girl!” he smiled. “I will tell you just how wonderful after I have eaten everything you have brought me.”

  He put the plate down on the table by the window, there was a bowl of pink roses on it, which he pushed to one side.

  He sat down in a chair and started to eat as she went to the bedside table to fetch a glass and she noticed as she did so that the biscuit tin was empty.

  She put the glass beside him and poured out the claret.

  “I am not going to thank you,” he stated, “I am going to eat and then I am going to tell you everything you want to know.”

  “I am quite prepared to wait,” Charisa said as she smiled.

  As she spoke, she went back across the room and turned the key in the lock.

  She thought as she did so that it was a strange thing to have to do in The Priory of all places.

  Then she remembered that when she was in the small Chapel, she had been aware that there was danger.

  Now she realised that it did not apply to herself, but to Vincent.

  Although she had not understood, she knew now that was why the Abbot had warned her.

  It was Vincent who was the one in danger.

  Vincent, who was supposed to be dead, but who had now come home.

  Chapter Five

  Vincent put down his knife and fork.

  “I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a meal so much!” he exclaimed.

  Charisa laughed before she said in a serious tone,

  “I hope we don’t have to decide how to get you many more!”

  She was sitting against the pillows.

  Vincent then rose from the table and walked to the bed.

  He sat down on it as he had before.

  “Now,” he said, “I am going to tell you exactly what has happened, but I don’t want you to be frightened.”

  “Frightened?” she questioned.

  She thought that he would explain.

  Instead he began very carefully, as if he was choosing his words one by one, to tell her what had happened to him in India.

  He related first how a young Officer had been stabbed in the back when he was in the Bazaar and it was not until later that it had struck him that the knife was meant for him.

  He skipped over what he was doing in disguise in the North and she learnt only that he was on his way back when Nicolas had joined him.

  Charisa was listening, her hands clasped in front of her.

  Her large eyes were on Vincent’s face, which she could see quite clearly in the moonlight.

  She realised that he was very thin and there were lines on his face that had not been there when he had left England.

  He then related how Nicolas had told him that a brother Officer, who had moved into his bed when he had left the Barracks, had been killed.

  Charisa made a little murmur of horror.

  Then Vincent went on to explain how he had gone to the stream to fetch the beer that he was keeping cool there.

  When he returned to his tent, he found that Nicolas had been murdered.

  As if she wanted somehow to protect him, Charisa put out her hand.

  Vincent took it in both of his.

  “I do not want to upset you,” he said, “but I need your help and there is no one else I can trust.”

  “You – know I will – help you,” Charisa answered, “but, Vincent – who could want to – kill you?”

  Vincent was silent.

  Suddenly Charisa gave a cry that was almost a scream.

  “It is Gervais! Of course, it is Gervais!”

  “Why should you think that?” Vincent asked quietly.

  "Because his friend the Comte Jean de Soisson, who arrived yesterday, told me that Gervais ‘jumped for joy’ when he learnt that Uncle George was dead.”

  She paused before she went on,

  “The Comte said that he was so excited that he might have jumped – over the moon!”

  Vincent looked at her, but was still silent as she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth,

  “Do – you not – see? You have – just told me that – Nicolas brought you – the newspaper in which it – was reported that your Uncle George was – dead. Gervais knew that when he – died he would be the next – Marquis! He could have – known that only if he had – disposed of you – !”

  Vincent’s hands tightened on hers.

  “You are a very clever girl, as you always were. I knew when Nicolas told me of the death of my brother Officer that it was Gervais who was trying to kill me. That is why I came home at once secretly and without anybody knowing who I was.”

  “How did you – do that?” Charisa asked.

  She knew as she looked at the rags he was wearing that it could not have been a comfortable journey.

  “I travelled in a cargo ship,” Vincent explained, “and worked my passage back to England.”

  “It must have been awful!” Charisa exclaimed. “And, when they found Nicolas’s body, they must have thought it was you.”

  “I made sure of that,” Vincent replied, “when I realised that he was dead. I knew too that there was nothing I could do but disappear.”

  “Why were they so sure – that the dead man was you?”

  “Because it was so hot,” Vincent explained, “Nicolas had taken off his uniform and was wearing only a pair of white pants. I took all his belongings, including his boots and buried them under the trees.”

  There was pain in his voice as he spoke.

  “Then I let my horse loose,” he went on. “I was sure that somebody would take care of him until the Army turned up to claim him.”

  “And you – rode away on your – friend’s horse,” Charisa said, trying to work it out.

  “I did but, of course, in a different direction from the one I would otherwise have taken. There was nothing left to identify Nicolas.”

  He paused and then continued,

  “I knew that by the time he was found, the heat of the sun would have made it impossible to recognise anyone with certainty. But it was known that I was expected to be in that particular vicinity.”

  “I think it was very clever of you,” Charisa said, “and that is exactly what happened. When he went to the War Office, Papa was told that there was another Officer missing who they hoped could give them some information about you.”

  “By that time,” Vincent added, “I was making for the coast. I was fortunate to find a cargo ship that was leaving for England. But the food was ghastly and the conditions on bo
ard were worse!”

  “Poor Vincent! It must have been horrible!” Charisa sympathised.

  “The small wages I received for my toil,” Vincent went on, “lasted me only until I was about thirty miles from here and after that I had to walk – ”

  “And you could not afford to buy – any food,” Charisa finished.

  “I ate what I could find in the fields and on the trees,” Vincent replied. “I really was starving when I saw The Priory right in front of me.”

  “Yet you reached here,” Charisa said softly.

  “I slipped in through a side door and as quickly as possible crept into the secret passages,” Vincent said.

  “That was – sensible,” Charisa murmured.

  “I had been thinking as I was walking along that the only person who would be able to help me was you. When I realised by peeping into the room that you were here in The Priory, it seemed the answer to my prayers.”

  “And I was just thinking that I should leave here as soon as possible,” Charisa said. “Oh, Vincent, I am so very – very glad I am here!”

  “So am I,” he said, “but I am terrified in case I put you in any danger.”

  “You need not worry – about that,” Charisa said. “Gervais will not kill me.”

  “Why are you so sure?” Vincent asked sharply.

  “Because he wants – to marry me!”

  Vincent stared at her in astonishment.

  “You mean he has said that already? But surely he can only just have arrived.”

  “He went to London first,” Charisa answered, “but as soon as he came here, he talked to Papa and intimated – that he should marry me.”

  “I have never heard such damned impertinence!” Vincent exclaimed. “What did your father say?”

  Charisa was silent for a moment.

  “Good God,” Vincent exclaimed, “you are not thinking of marrying him?”

  “No, of course not,” Charisa answered, “and I knew that he was evil and wicked – from the moment he touched me.

  “He touched you?” Vincent interrupted.

  “He kissed my hand and it was horrible and repulsive and I knew that there was something wrong.”

  “He is a murderer for one thing!” Vincent said. “But you understand, Charisa, that anyone connected with me is in danger. That is why I did not go to your father.”

  “You mean – he might kill Papa?” Charisa said in a low voice.

  “I think he would kill anybody who stood between him and the position he has now taken,” Vincent said. “Three men have died already because they were thought to be me, but, unless I am actually killed too, it is impossible to prove that he murdered them.”

  “But we have to prove it,” Charisa declared.

  “Not until I am lying dead at his feet,” Vincent said grimly.

  Charisa gave a cry of horror and held tightly to his hand.

  “That must not happen! We cannot lose you, Vincent, and somehow we must – get rid of Gervais.”

  Vincent sighed.

  “I know that, but it is easier said than done. We will just have to wait and see what happens.”

  “And meanwhile you are going to hide in the secret passages?”

  “It’s the only place I will be safe,” Vincent replied, “and perhaps by some lucky chance I shall find some evidence that I can take to the Police.”

  He drew in his breath before he said very quietly,

  “But you do understand that if he knows I am alive, he will kill me and this time make sure of being successful.”

  “But – he cannot be – he must not! Oh, Vincent – I am afraid!” Charisa cried.

  “I don’t want to frighten you,” Vincent said, “but, if you can just keep me alive while I try to find proof that he is a murderer and an imposter, that is all I ask.”

  “You know I will do – anything to help – you,” Charisa said, “just as I used to when we were children.”

  Vincent smiled.

  “You always aided and abetted me in anything I wanted to do.”

  “That is what I will do – now,” Charisa promised. “But, Vincent – dear Vincent, we must be very very – careful.”

  “That is what I intend to be,” he said, “and I shall be quite safe in the Priest’s Hole.”

  The Priest’s Hole was in the centre of the secret passages and it had been used as a Chapel where Mass could be celebrated in secret.

  It was also where the Priest could hide when he was being pursued.

  It was, Charisa knew, safe.

  No one was supposed to know the way to the secret passages except the immediate family.

  But Vincent had shown them to Charisa when she was ten and he had taken her into them many times in the next five years before he went abroad.

  “If you are going to sleep in the Priest’s Hole,” she suggested, “you will need – a pillow and blankets.”

  She stopped and exclaimed,

  “Of course! There is no reason why you should not sleep in your own room.”

  Vincent stared at her.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “When I was talking to Bessy and saying how glad I was to be in my own room with the picture I love so much, Bessy said, ‘Mrs. Bush would never put you anywhere except where you belong, Miss Charisa, and Mr. Dawkins has locked Mr. Vincent’s room, which is just as it was when he left it.’”

  Vincent smiled.

  “If Dawkins has the key,” he said, “it means that no one can enter it unexpectedly and, as you know, there is a secret entrance into my room as there is into yours.”

  “You can sleep in your own bed,” Charisa pointed out, “but be careful to leave it tidy in the morning. And, of course, your clothes are in the cupboards, just as you left them.”

  “I am certainly glad to hear that,” Vincent replied. “If nothing else, I need a new pair of shoes after walking all this way.”

  “You need some other things as well,” Charisa laughed.

  “I know that,” he said, “but at least no one tried to rob me.”

  He spoke lightly, but Charisa said in a serious voice,

  “No one but Gervais, who has – taken your – place!”

  “I suppose he was hard up as usual,” Vincent said angrily.

  “Uncle George was horrified at his extravagance.”

  “Getting rid of you was the only way that he could inherit The Priory,” Charisa said, “and, Vincent, he is already trying to find things – to sell.”

  “To sell?” Vincent exclaimed.

  “He was overheard by the servants asking Mr. Sheldon which of the pictures were not entailed and I think he has sold the gold Cross and the candlesticks from the altar of the Abbot’s Chapel.”

  “Curse him!” Vincent exclaimed. “How dare he try to despoil The Priory!”

  He rose to his feet and walked to the window.

  He stood looking out, but Charisa knew that he was controlling his anger at what he had just heard.

  She did not speak and after some seconds Vincent came back to the bedside.

  “You must get some sleep,” he proposed. “Thanks to what you have just told me, I can sleep in my own room. But I shall be vigilant just in case anyone comes in and finds me there.”

  “I don’t think they will,” Charisa said. “At the same time you must be very – very – careful.”

  “I will be,” Vincent promised, “and you must be even more careful. We are dealing not with anyone who is normal – but like a desperate rake he will fight to the last ditch to keep what is legally not his.”

  “I know,” Charisa nodded, “and I shall pray that you will be safe.”

  She hesitated before she said a little shyly,

  “I think it is because everybody loves you so much and was so distressed by the news of your death that – God has brought – you safely – home.”

  “I think you are right,” Vincent said quietly, “and I am a very lucky man to have you to help me.”

&n
bsp; He bent towards her and Charisa held out her arms to put them round his neck unaffectedly as she had done before.

  She hugged him and as she did so she said,

  “How can you not be safe here – in your own home, when I know not only the monks but also Abbot Mawdelyn – will be looking after you?”

  Vincent kissed her cheek.

  “And so are you, my dear little cousin,” he said, “but remember, not a word to anyone.”

  “No, of course not,” Charisa agreed, “but I would like to tell Papa sometime. I know that he would want – to help expose Gervais.”

  “You must not risk his life or anybody else’s,” Vincent said, “not for a moment.”

  He kissed her cheek again and then began to move across the room.

  Charisa gave a little cry.

  “You have forgotten breakfast. I will fetch you some, but how shall I let you know when it is ready?”

  Vincent thought for a moment.

  “What time are you being called?” he asked.

  “At eight o’clock,” Charisa answered, “and I shall be in the breakfast room at half past eight. Usually no one is downstairs except Papa and myself.”

  “Then if you come up here after breakfast, I will be waiting on the other side of your secret entrance. Remember the housemaids will be about, so I will open it just wide enough for you to put the food, if you have any, inside. And remember not to speak.”

  “But I – have to talk – to you – and supposing I have – found out something – important to tell you?”

  “You can leave a piece of paper, a handkerchief or anything that belongs to you just inside the panel,” Vincent answered. “I will come here several times a day or, if you like, every two hours or so, just in case you need me.”

  Charisa gave a little sigh of relief.

  “I want – you to do that – and somehow I will – find you some food.”

  “I have not thanked you for what you have brought me already,” Vincent said. “I cannot remember ever having been so hungry before, not even in India.”

  “I will make – sure you are – never so hungry again!” Charisa promised him.

  He smiled at her.

  Then, as he moved into the shadows in the corner of the bedroom, she heard a slight sound as he opened the panelling.

  He slipped through it and a moment later the door closed and she was alone.