The Unbreakable Spell

by Barbara Cartland

  She ought to have made Caroline realise from the beginning that she would have to marry the Marquis and say goodbye to Patrick.

  But something defiant in herself made her ask why any woman should be pushed about as though she was just an inanimate object without any feelings.

  It annoyed her and she would do everything in her power to help Caroline to be with the man she loved.

  Patrick was waiting in the clearing as he had every day since Monday just in case either of them had any news.

  Now, before she could say anything, he knew by the expression on her face that she had heard from Caroline.

  “What does she say?” he asked eagerly.

  She handed him the envelope that contained Caroline’s letter to her and the note for him.

  “I am afraid it is bad news,” she said in a low voice.

  Patrick was not listening.

  He had sat down on a fallen tree trunk and was reading Caroline’s letter and was therefore oblivious to everything else.

  Rocana sat beside him trying to think out some sensible plan, but knowing it was going to be very difficult.

  Even if he and Caroline eloped as soon as she arrived, they would not be very far away by the time her absence was discovered.

  This meant that the Duke might be able to catch up with them before they were married.

  He had a large number of grooms and very fast horses, and Rocana knew there were only a certain number of main roads in the County on which Caroline and Patrick could travel to wherever they intended to hide.

  She was calculating how many hours they would have before the Duke and Duchess would be aware that she was not in The Castle when Patrick looked up and sighed,

  “This is what I was expecting.”

  “You were?”

  “I was very certain that the Duchess with her grandiose ideas of what the Marquis’s bride should look like would not be able to buy everything she wanted so quickly.”

  “What can we do?” Rocana asked.

  “First,” Patrick replied, “I will take Caroline from The Castle as soon as her parents think she has retired for the night.”

  He was obviously working it out and Rocana added,

  “That means about ten o’clock, which will give you nine hours before the Duchess will expect Caroline to be woken. It will be early, as she is supposed to be married at a half after nine.”

  “I want longer than that.”

  “I cannot see how it is possible,” Rocana replied, “but I am sure that if Caroline is missing and they guess what has occurred, the Duke will send his grooms riding in every possible direction to apprehend you. “

  That undoubtedly was what Patrick thought himself and she went on,

  “You have to be married as quickly as possible and that should be outside the County where the Parson would not be so familiar with the name of Brunt.”

  “I have thought it all out,” Patrick said, “and the only way we have a real chance of being safe is if you will help us.”

  “Me?” Rocana questioned. “But of course! I will do anything you want.”

  “Do you mean that?” Patrick enquired in a somewhat strange voice.

  “Of course I mean it. You know I love Caroline and she will never be happy with anybody but you.”

  “Very well,” Patrick said. “What you have to do, Rocana, is to take Caroline’s place and marry the Marquis!”

  Rocana stared at him as if she thought she must have misunderstood what she had heard.

  Then she gave a little cry before she exclaimed,

  “What are you – saying? How could I possibly do – that?”

  “It will not be easy,” he said, “but it is possible.”

  He paused as if he was thinking before he went on,

  “You and Caroline are about the same height and you both have fair hair. The great difference between you is your eyes, but a bride is always supposed to look down, and besides you would be wearing a veil over your face.”

  “I-I don’t understand,” Rocana exclaimed. “How can you have – thought of anything so – crazy?”

  “It is not crazy if you think about it,” Patrick said quietly. “The Duchess, who has eyes far sharper than the Duke’s, will go ahead to the Church, and Caroline will come last with her father.”

  “Y-yes – but – ” Rocana began.

  “If you contrive,” Patrick went on as if she had not spoken, “that the Duchess does not see Caroline before she is dressed as a bride, I don’t believe that either the Duke or the Marquis when you reach the Church, will notice that you have taken her place.”

  Rocana’s eyes were wide and her hands were clasped tightly together, but she did not speak as Patrick continued,

  “Once you are married and legally the Marquis’s wife, however much they may rage and scream, there will be nothing they can do about it and by the time they have sent the servants to find Caroline and me, we will be married.”

  Rocana put up her hands to pull off her riding hat as if somehow it constricted her thinking.

  Then she said,

  “I cannot – believe what you are – saying to me!”

  For the first time since they had met, Patrick smiled.

  “If you think it over, Rocana,” he said, “you will not only be helping Caroline, whom I know you love, but also yourself.”

  She looked at him in surprise and he went on,

  “You may have no wish to marry the Marquis, but surely it would be preferable to living as you are now? Caroline has told me how you are continually abused because your father died in debt and your mother was French.”

  This was indisputable and Rocana made a little murmur which he took for one of agreement.

  “Whatever happens in the future,” he said, “the Marquis will have to look after you. Perhaps your magic that Caroline has told me so often you use to see into the future, will tell you that this is the right thing for you as well as for us.”

  “I understand what you are – saying to me.” Rocana said, “but how could I possibly – get away with such a – deception? And if they – expose me before I get to the Church, the Duchess will be so angry – I think she – might kill me!”

  “Then you must make sure she does not find out until you are the Marchioness of Quorn!”

  Then, as if he thought he had been too frivolous, he put out his hand and took Rocana’s.

  “This is the only way you can help us, Rocana, and I feel it is a sort of poetic justice in return for the way in which the Duchess had treated you! I also believe your father would think it a good joke.”

  Almost as if Patrick had conjured him up, Rocana could see her father laughing, his eyes twinkling as he was saying,

  “Serve them right! They deserve what is coming to them!”

  It was an expression she had heard him use and she knew that if he was aware, as she was sure he was, of how unhappy she had been since coming to live at The Castle, he would want to save her.

  She had thought last night when she went to bed, having sat up until nearly midnight sewing the garments the Duchess had left for her, that she could not bear to think of the future.

  Because the Duchess hated her and was so spiteful she was sure that she definitely would prevent her from riding and reading.

  Furthermore the only thing that had restrained her from punishing her physically in the past had been the presence of Caroline.

  Rocana now had the feeling that once Caroline was married and no longer there the Duchess would slap her if she was annoyed and might even go further and beat her.

  It was something she had threatened to do when she was very angry, but she would never have done so in front of Caroline.

  Rocana knew her cousin always had been a shield between herself and the Duchess’s hatred.

  So if Caroline was no longer there not only would she herself suffer, but Caroline also would be miserable and unhappy as the Marchioness of Quorn.

  Rocana was aware that Patrick wa
s waiting, just looking at her, his fingers tightening on hers which told her how tense he was and how urgently he was pleading with her to accept his suggestion.

  Without realising it, she lifted her chin in a way that had been characteristic of her father when he was challenged by any particular difficulty and replied,

  “I will do it – but oh, Patrick – you will have to – help me!”

  “I knew you would!” Patrick said in a tone of triumph. “Thank you, Rocana, thank you! And once Caroline and I are married, if things are too difficult you can always come to us.”

  “I-I am frightened!” Rocana said, “not only of – letting you down – but of – marrying the Marquis!”

  “I agree he is rather frightening,” Patrick replied. “At the same time he is a gentleman and a sportsman, and I cannot believe that when you get to know him he will be any more formidable than the Duchess who terrifies me!”

  Rocana laughed, but it flashed through her mind that while the Duchess was, as Patrick said, terrifying, the Marquis would be her husband, and that was something it was almost impossible to contemplate.

  “Now what we have to do,” Patrick said in a practical tone, “is first of all to see that I have enough of Caroline’s clothes for her to wear until I can buy her some more.”

  As if he thought that Rocana did not understand, he added,

  “You will have her new trousseau!”

  “If I get away with my – deception,” Rocana murmured, “and – go away with the – Marquis!”

  “You will be his wife,” Patrick said firmly, “and whatever else happens, you must insist upon his taking you with him.”

  Rocana gave a gasp as if everything Patrick said made the future seem more and more complicated.

  She did not speak and he went on,

  “Could you possibly pack some of Caroline’s clothes and make some excuse to the servants in The Castle for sending them away?”

  Rocana thought for a moment.

  Then she said,

  “As they all know she is having a complete trousseau, I could say that the Duchess instructed me to give everything she has worn for a long time to one of the orphanages.”

  “Excellent!” Patrick exclaimed. “Get the footmen to put the trunks outside the back door tomorrow night and I will collect them. If I come at the time the servants usually have supper, there is not likely to be anybody about.”

  “Suppose somebody sees you?” Rocana suggested.

  “I will make sure they do not,” Patrick replied. “Don’t worry about me, Rocana, just pack the things you think Caroline will want.”

  “I will do that,” Rocana promised.

  “We will talk about this again tomorrow,” Patrick said, “and I will work out every detail, but, in the meantime, think what you can do to hide your eyes, which are what will give you away, and of course there will have to be some explanation of your not being available as yourself, should the Duchess ask for you.”

  “I had not thought of that!” Rocana exclaimed.

  Then she smiled.

  “I know the answer to that problem at least.”

  “What is it?”

  “Nanny will help me. She will come back from London with Caroline and I can say I am too ill to appear while she is dressing Caroline for the Church. I have already been told I am not to go to the wedding.”

  “Or the reception?” Patrick asked.

  “Of course not. You know I am supposed to be invisible.”

  “I cannot imagine anything more cruel than the way your father’s daughter is treated and, apart from infuriating them by taking Caroline away, I want to see the Duchess get her just deserts when she realises that you are the Marchioness of Quorn!”

  “I could not be more miserable than I should be at The Castle without Caroline,” Rocana said in a low voice.

  Patrick once again took her hand in his.

  “I am not going to thank you, Rocana. All I can say is that I think you are very brave and your father would be proud of you.”

  Because of the sincere way in which he spoke, Rocana felt the tears come into her eyes.

  Her fingers tightened on his as she pointed out,

  “It cannot be more difficult than your competing with the Marquis in a Steeplechase and this time we will win!”

  “We will win!” Patrick echoed.

  *

  Rocana was unable to sleep when at last she went to bed on Saturday night having seen Patrick again in the morning.

  He had been extremely encouraging and had rehearsed everything she had to do step by step, until, almost as if it was written down in front of her, she could learn it by heart.

  But she still felt terrified that she would fail and their whole plot would prove a disaster.

  Caroline had arrived home with the Duchess and Nanny at five o’clock and one look at her told Rocana how frightened and apprehensive she was.

  The Duchess bustled into The Castle giving orders in a sharp voice and immediately finding fault with the flowers that had been arranged for the wedding.

  Caroline ran upstairs and Rocana followed her.

  They were both breathless by the time they reached the school room and, as Rocana shut the door behind them, Caroline asked,

  “Patrick! What does he say?”

  “It is all right. He will be waiting for you tonight at nine-thirty in the shrubbery by the back door.”

  Caroline gave a little cry of joy.

  “You are sure – you are really – sure he will be – there?”

  “Absolutely sure,” Rocana answered, “and I will tell you quickly what he has planned.”

  She drew Caroline to the window seat because it was furthest from the door.

  As she undid the ribbons of her bonnet and unclasped the cloak she wore over her thin gown, Rocana told her in a whisper what Patrick had persuaded her to do.

  “You will take my – place in the Church!” Caroline exclaimed. “I don’t believe it!”

  “Patrick says he must have at least that length of time to enable you to marry and reach the coast.”

  “Then you – will do it for me?” Caroline asked. “You will – really marry the – Marquis?”

  “Patrick has persuaded me that it is the only possible way by which you can escape.”

  “Oh, Rocana, I am sorry! He is horrid and I hate him! I grow more frightened of him every time I see him!”

  “Patrick insists that, as far as I am concerned he cannot be more frightening than Aunt Sophie!”

  “Patrick is always right,” Caroline replied, “and, if you really will marry the Marquis, I will thank you from the bottom of my heart every day of my life!”

  “I have promised that is what I will do,” Rocana said, “and I only hope your wedding gown will not be too – tight for me!”

  Caroline laughed, as Rocana wanted her to do, because they both knew that Rocana was the slimmer of the two and Caroline always complained that her own waist was less fashionable than hers.

  “I suppose you will be expected to wear the family veil?” Rocana asked.

  Caroline nodded.

  “Mama kept saying all the way here that she hoped you would have the sense to get it ready and hang it up so that there are no creases in it.”

  “I have done that,” Rocana said, “and fortunately the lace is very concealing.”

  “Supposing Mama sees you in the morning after I have gone?”

  “That is where Nanny has to help us.”

  While Caroline was downstairs with her parents, Rocana revealed the plot to Nanny.

  Although she did not approve, since she would have liked ‘her baby’ as she called Caroline, to make a grand Social marriage, she knew better than anybody else that she would be happy only with Patrick.

  “A nice lot of trouble I’m going to be in over this!” she said when Rocana had finished talking.

  “You know Caroline wants you with her the moment she returns to England,” Rocana replied, “and I am
sure the best thing you can do is to go to Mr. Fairley’s new house and wait for them there.”

  She then told Nanny what she had told Caroline, that Patrick now owned a very large house and estate in Oxfordshire which had been left him – together with a great deal of money – by his uncle.

  Nanny was delighted by the news while Caroline had thought it unimportant compared with the fact that she was to marry Patrick tomorrow.

  “We may have to stay away from England for a long time,” she had murmured dreamily, “at least until we are quite certain that Papa cannot get the marriage annulled.”

  “I think he is unlikely to try to do that,” Rocana said. “It would just make him and Aunt Sophie look foolish.”

  “Mama will want to punish me for running away and if she can she will hurt Patrick.”

  Rocana thought that was very likely the truth and everything therefore depended on her acting her part so well that Patrick gained enough time to take Caroline out of reach of her parents.

  Soon after dawn she climbed out of bed, washed and started to arrange her hair in exactly the same style as Caroline had been wearing when she returned last night from London.

  It was very becoming and quite different from the way she had done it in the past.

  It took Rocana some time and she was still sitting in front of the mirror when Nanny came into the room.

  “I thought you’d be awake,” she said. “Did everything go all right last night?”

  “Perfectly!” Rocana replied.

  She told Nanny how she had taken Caroline down the back stairs while the servants were out of sight having their supper, and they had slipped out of the side door to find Patrick waiting for them behind the shrubbery.

  He had a new phaeton which he had already told Rocana he had purchased because it could travel so swiftly and a superlative team of horses that had belonged to his uncle.

  There was a groom with him and he quickly took from Rocana Caroline’s jewel box and a case that contained a few items she had bought in London that she particularly wanted Patrick to see.

  One of them, Rocana noticed with a smile, was a very beautiful nightgown and a negligee to match it, both trimmed with expensive lace.

  “Patrick is going to buy you a new trousseau,” she told Caroline, “and he already has all your best gowns with him that the household thinks are being taken to an orphanage!”