“What do you mean? What nonsense are you talking?” Sir Percy cried.
“My real name is Claverly,” Carina answered. “Carina Claverly. Does that mean anything to you? Do you remember my father? I do not think – it is likely that you could forget him.”
“Hugo Claverly – I don’t believe it!” Sir Percy ejaculated.
“It happens to be true,” Carina said. “You will recall that you took from him his house and estates in the country. He was so ashamed of having lost them to you that he did not even tell us – who you were. My mother and I had no idea who was the usurper, the intruder, who had snatched our home from a man who was weak and foolish where cards were concerned.”
“Your father was a bad gambler. When he lost, he whined,” Sir Percy said roughly.
“He was a bad gambler in that he played for pleasure,” Carina answered, “and should never have allowed himself to be inveigled into a game with someone like yourself who makes a profession of it. But that is not all – ”
She watched Sir Percy flick his cigar ash onto the floor with a nervous gesture.
“ – You were not content, were you, Sir Percy, with just Claverly? You incited my father to go further and challenged him again – and this time you won from him not only his house in London, but everything else he possessed – ”
She paused for a moment and repeated,
“ – Every penny he possessed.”
“I cannot be responsible for other men’s stupidity,” Sir Percy growled.
“No, but you never let him alone, did you? You never let him get away. He talked of leaving London and decided not to go to the Club again, but you sent a note for him. I can remember the note coming and how my mother pleaded with him not to answer it. ‘It is a point of honour,’ he told her.”
“I was fond of your father, he was good company,” Sir Percy said.
“It was fondness that only lasted, as far as you were concerned, as long as he had any money left,” Carina retorted. “Once you had taken the lot, you had no further use for him.”
“You cannot prove that,” Sir Percy asserted.
“I cannot prove it,” Carina answered, “because you killed him – ”
She saw him start and added,
“Oh, yes, Sir Percy. You killed him as surely as if you had pulled the trigger that sent the bullet through his poor, muddled, unhappy head.”
“It’s a lie. And you know it!” Sir Percy protested.
“On the contrary,” Carina said, “I was told by someone who was in White’s Club that evening that my father drew his pistol and threatened you. But you hid behind your friends and called to them to throw him out of the Club – so he shot himself instead of you.”
“It was a damn silly thing to do,” Sir Percy remarked.
“It was only silly, I think, because it happened in the Club – because it made a scandal,” Carina said. “But you managed to get it all hushed up, didn’t you? How much did you pay, I wonder, to keep your name out of the newspapers, Sir Percy?”
She threw up her head as she said,
“‘Sir Hugo Claverly had lost large sums of money to a friend,’ was all they said. A friend – !”
Carina put a wealth of contempt into her voice.
“Now, look here, my dear,” Sir Percy said briskly, “your father is dead and nothing we can say can bring him back. I am sorry about it and if I had known who you were I should not have come up here tonight.”
“No, of course you would not,” Carina interrupted, “because that would have made you uncomfortable. And you did not want to feel uncomfortable, did you, Sir Percy, when you were intent on seducing a poor, frightened, little Governess – who had no one to turn to and no one to help her?”
Carina paused.
“You thought that she would be so pleased with your intentions, didn’t you? You never really thought she would resist you. And when you sent up your bottle of champagne and took away the key, you were quite sure that it was going to be a very enjoyable evening as far as you were concerned.”
“I am sorry, I made a mistake,” Sir Percy said. “Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”
He turned as if to leave, but Carina said quickly,
“Oh no, Sir Percy. You cannot get away from it as easily as that. I am not the frightened little Governess you were stalking, as you thought, so successfully. I am Carina Claverly, daughter of the man who tried to kill you and failed. But I am going to succeed.”
Carina raised the pistol as she spoke and aimed at a spot just below his heart. She remembered from somewhere in the back of her mind that she had been told that one must always aim lower than the target.
“For God’s sake, girl, stop!”
The words died in his throat, for Carina pulled the trigger.
There was a tremendous explosion that seemed to echo round and round the room.
For a moment Sir Percy appeared to stare at her, his eyes protruding and his mouth dropping open in astonishment.
And very slowly he crumpled up and fell sprawling to the floor.
Chapter 10
He was dead!
Carina sat staring ahead of her, not at the figure lying on the ground, but rather looking inwards into her heart and the past.
She felt now as if all feeling and all emotion had gone from her and that she was nothing but a statue made of marble.
Vaguely she realised that someone had entered the nursery and a high-pitched scream told her that it was a woman.
She heard the screaming recede as the person ran downstairs and Carina wondered to herself why a woman’s voice in horror or terror was so unattractive.
Minutes passed and she did not move.
And then suddenly there were footsteps coming up the stairs and across the nursery floor and Carina knew who the person was before she saw him.
Lord Lynche gave only a perfunctory glance at Sir Percy.
He moved quickly to Carina’s side.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I shot him – because he killed my father,” Carina said dully. “My name is – Carina Claverly.”
Although she was not looking at him, she felt Lord Lynche start.
“Hugo’s daughter?” he enquired and in answer she bent her head downward.
There was a moment’s pause and she knew that he was remembering the headlines, the caricatures and the scandal sheets, the reports at the inquest and all the attendant horrors.
Then, as she waited, not certain what he would say, his voice – kinder than she had ever known it – said gently,
“You poor child! Why did you not tell me?”
She looked at him, surprised and at the same time feeling that he had pierced the coldness and the unreality that possessed her.
She met his eyes and for a moment they stared at each other.
“Why did he come here?”
The question was almost sharp. It seemed to Carina that it lay between them like a naked sword.
“He came last night,” she replied. “The door was locked. Tonight I found that he had taken the key.”
“The swine! I would have killed him myself if I had known of it.”
There was an unexpected depth of passion in Lord Lynche’s voice.
Then there was the sound of people running upstairs, of a woman speaking shrilly and men crowding across the nursery.
Lord Lynche put his hand on Carina’s shoulder as if to protect her.
As he did so, she felt as if a leaping flame awakened within herself. It flickered and then shot upwards in her body – burning, consuming and at the same time igniting her.
From being as cold as a marble statue she came suddenly to quivering, pulsating life with the blood flowing back into her cheeks.
She knew then that she loved him.
Whatever he might be like, whatever he had done and to whatever depths he would stoop, she loved him and every pulse in her body responded to his touch.
And because she was afraid
of her feelings, she said,
“I have killed him – and I am prepared to pay the price.”
“Hush!”
It was a word of command but now, once again. Lord Lynche’s hand touched her bare shoulder and she felt that the whole world was lost in this moment of intense and ecstatic feeling.
“Good God, Justin! What has happened here?”
It was a military-looking man with a red face who spoke. Carina remembered that he had been introduced to her as Colonel Wakeford.
“You can see what has happened,” Lord Lynche replied coolly. “Miss Claverly has shot a man who deserved to die.”
Colonel Wakeford’s mouth opened in astonishment. He looked down at Sir Percy and then at Lord Lynche. It took him a moment before the name struck him and then he muttered,
“Claverly! I had no idea. Good God! What a mess!” The other members of the party were bending over Sir Percy and, after a consultation in low voices, Carina realised that they were deciding to lift him up and carry him downstairs.
“Shall I send the groom for a physician?” Colonel Wakeford asked gruffly.
Carina knew that he had deliberately refrained from looking at her and kept his eyes, as if with an effort, on Lord Lynche’s face.
“Yes, of course,” Lord Lynche replied, “send a groom.”
“He’s not dead,” remarked someone who was kneeling beside Sir Percy, “but he is losing a hell of a lot of blood.”
“Get him downstairs,” Lord Lynche commanded.
They lifted him with some difficulty, for Sir Percy was a heavy man and Carina thought that they moved like pall-bearers as they passed through the nursery and out of sight, leaving only a smear of blood on the floor to show where he had lain.
“He is not dead,” Lord Lynche told her quietly.
“But he will die – ” Carina said. “Send for the Police.”
He looked down at her and she felt her heart turn over because of the expression in his eyes.
“We will wait,” Lord Lynche said, “and see what the doctor has to say.”
He put out his hand as he spoke and she realised that she had been sitting with the pistol in her lap, her fingers still on the trigger. He took it from her and replaced it in its box that lay on the bed.
Then, as she rose to her feet, a little stiffly for she had been sitting there for a long time, he said,
“Come downstairs and let me give you a drink.”
“I want nothing,” she replied. “I have told you – send for the Police.”
“Are you that determined to be a martyr?” he asked.
“No, I am only trying to pay my debts,” Carina answered.
As she spoke, she moved across the bedroom into the nursery, going towards the fire and holding out her hands towards it.
The flames danced on her golden hair and cast a little shadow beneath the pearls that encircled her soft white neck.
Her fingers were steady as she held them to the blaze, but she felt herself tremble as she turned round to find Lord Lynche standing just beside her and watching her.
She looked up at him and looked away again.
She dare not meet his eyes.
“Why did you not tell me who you are?” he enquired.
“I wanted no one to know,” she replied. “My old Governess, who is now retired, lent me both her name and her references. That is how I obtained the position with – ”
She had been about to say ‘your wife’ and then she knew that the words could not be spoken because of the pain they must bring her.
It was not only the fact that he was married, but that he had behaved so badly and so heartlessly and, as she had thought when she had first met him, so despicably.
She closed her eyes for a moment, holding on to the mantelpiece.
Could it be true what she felt just now? Could that sudden fire that had burned through her whole body really be love – or something else, something she could not explain?
“Carina – ”
She heard him speak her name and knew that it left her a little breathless. She had no idea that her name could sound so different, and yet so entrancing, on a man’s lips.
She turned her face away from him, gazing down to the fire.
“What is it?” she asked.
Lord Lynche did not answer and after a moment, because she could not bear the silence, she raised her head and looked at him.
And then she found herself held spellbound by what she saw in his face.
“I love you,” he said quietly. “You know that, don’t you?”
“No – ” she answered, her voice so low that it could scarcely pass through her lips, “– no, I did not know.”
“I have loved you,” he said, “I think from that first moment when I saw you standing in the hall, your little face so white and anxious, your eyes so condemning, so contemptuous of me.”
“No, it was not really like that,” she said quickly and knew that she lied.
“Do not let us pretend,” Lord Lynche said softly, “not at this moment, not when – ”
Carina put up her hands suddenly.
“ – I may be taken away to prison,” she finished. “I am not afraid. I think I shall be glad to go. I know now that I wanted to kill him not only for what he did to my father but for what he would have done to you too.”
“Oh, my darling, do I matter at all?” Lord Lynche cried.
He came one step nearer and now Carina had to throw back her head to look up at him. She felt the nearness of him. He had only to put out his arm, or she her hand, and they would touch each other.
She tried to think clearly and tried to ask herself whether it was right or wrong, but it was impossible.
She could only feel with the intense throbbing of every nerve in her body that she loved him – loved him whatever he was, whatever he was like.
Now it was too late.
“You are so lovely – ” Lord Lynche said almost beneath his breath, his eyes seeming to devour every feature of her face. “I had forgotten that women could be as soft and beautiful as you. I have known too many of the other sort. And then, when I saw you, when I heard you speak, I knew that you were utterly different.”
Carina stood listening to him and waiting.
She knew then what she wanted – to feel his arms, the touch of his lips. And the ecstasy and the need within her body made her feel that she radiated a kind of magic that no one could resist.
But Lord Lynche said,
“I never meant to say any of this to you. I know it is hopeless and I knew that I must never tell you. But now, in case anything happens, in case you have to go away, I want you to know that I love you.”
Carina stared at him a little bewildered. There was a note in his voice that she did not understand.
“Why did you not tell me?” she asked. “Was it because I was merely a Governess?”
“Good God, no!”
There was no mistaking the raw sincerity of his ejaculation.
“It was not that. It is because I am not free to speak.”
She thought he meant because of his wife, but the next words, spoken awkwardly, dispelled the idea.
“It is not,” he said, a little hesitantly, “because of Dipa’s mother. She is dead. My lawyer told me that when he arrived this evening.”
Then what?” Carina asked.
“I cannot tell you,” he answered.
Lord Lynche suddenly put up one hand to his face and walked away from her.
“I want to tell you,” he said, “but there are things that are not mine to repeat, secrets that involve not only my honour, but that of other people.”
There was so much pain in his voice that Carina could feel in herself the anguish he was suffering.
‘It is something to do with the man in the Tudor wing,’ she thought and she wondered how that could possibly be so.
She was about to ask if that were the case, but then bit back her words as she remembered the promise she had given
to the injured man’s valet.
“I love you,” she heard Lord Lynche say from across the other side of the room. “I love you so much that it is agony to stand here and sheer hell not to take you in my arms. But I have not the right to do so. If I had, I should go down on my knees at the moment and ask you to honour me by becoming my wife.”
Carina felt tears come into her eyes and, because she was deeply moved, she answered unsteadily,
“You must not – do that. Remember at any moment I may be nothing but – a jailbird.”
“Don’t talk like that!”
Lord Lynche slammed his fist down on the nursery table.
“Whatever happens, you must not suffer. You have tried to kill a man who is nothing but vermin, a man who would leave the world a cleaner place if he was no longer in it. I will get my lawyers to engage the best Counsel in England. We will fight every inch of the way.”
Carina shook her head.
“It will be no use,” she answered. “It was premeditated. I meant to kill him. I sat here waiting for him and when he came I aimed for his heart.”
“He is not dead yet,” Lord Lynche said desperately.
“You don’t know that,” Carina said. “I think it would be best if we went downstairs and faced – what has to be faced.”
She held her head high, as if she was an aristocrat going to the guillotine and somehow it was not difficult to feel brave because of her love for him and the knowledge that he loved her in return.
Lord Lynche walked across to her.
“I never imagined a woman could show such courage,” he said.
“I am not really brave,” Carina answered. “I think it is you who are making me so.”
He took her hand in his and his fingers closed over hers so tightly that the pain almost made her cry out.
“I am afraid of you – and for you,” he said.
“We must go down,” Carina told him. “The doctor will be arriving and, when he has seen Sir Percy, he will send for the Police.”
“Damn it, I will not allow it!” Lord Lynche exploded. “We will drop Sir Percy in the lake, bury him in the Park or hide him somewhere, anything so that you shall not suffer.”
“And what do you think his friends would say?” Carina asked with a little smile on her lips as if Lord Lynche had spoken like an irresponsible child. “No, there is nothing we can do.”
The Fire of Love Page 17