“I think Miss Claverly has already seen to that,” Lord Arthur remarked.
He looked at Carina kindly and somehow she felt that her heart would burst.
“But you cannot give me back my father,” she said to him in a voice hardly above a whisper and turning she ran from the room, her eyes blinded with tears.
Chapter 11
Carina was awakened by a housemaid pulling back the curtains. For a moment she could hardly believe that she had been asleep.
When she had gone to bed, she thought that she would lie awake all night, reliving the events of the day. But from sheer exhaustion she had dropped into a dreamless slumber and now she felt as if she was being dragged back to earth from some far distant planet.
The housemaid put down the tray of morning tea beside the bed and withdrew almost noiselessly. She had obviously been taught her work well by Mrs. Barnstaple.
Carina sat up in bed and stared across the room to where someone had removed the stain of blood from the floor and there was nothing now to indicate where Sir Percy had fallen.
Had it all really happened, she wondered, or was it just a figment of her imagination? Had she really sat with a pistol in her hand intent on killing a man?
Had she swept from hatred and enmity to passion and burning love?
She felt a sudden tingle in her fingertips at the memory of Lord Lynche’s touch on her shoulders. It ignited a fire within her that had seemed to burn her up and consume her so that she had known she loved him beyond all sense and almost beyond all caution.
She closed her eyes for a moment and remembered the tone in his voice when he said that he loved her. And then, with a little helpless dropping of her spirits, she recalled how he had said that he could never ask her to marry him.
“Why? Why? Why?” she asked herself aloud.
She was sure that it was something to do with the man with white hair hidden below in the Priest’s hole. And yet that too seemed impossible. How could he, concealed and inactive, affect Lord Lynche’s life and hers?
Carina slipped out of bed and went to the window.
It was a dull cold day with a promise of rain in the heavy dark clouds. The leaves were falling from the trees in the Park. She knew that summer was over and winter was already beginning to creep upon them.
She wondered what would happen before Christmas came. At least they would all be here and nowhere else thanks to Colonel Wakeford’s having found out by what methods Sir Percy had such an apparently phenomenal run of luck.
It was incredible, Carina thought, that he had managed to hoodwink people for so long. And yet, who would suspect a member of the aristocracy, a man obviously as wealthy as Sir Percy?
‘It must have been an obsession with him,’ she murmured, remembering how her father had told her once that there were men who could not bear to lose, whose characters were so warped that any setback drove them to the point of madness.
Carina put her hands up to her eyes as if to wipe away not only the memory of the gambler, but the memory of her father.
He need not have died. He might be alive now –
But then she would never have met Lord Lynche, never have known what it was to love so that her whole body beat in rhythm with the ecstasy in her heart.
“I love him, I love him,” she said aloud and then blushed at the sound of her own voice.
She dressed quickly, for it was cold in her bedroom, and then went to Dipa’s room expecting to find him as usual playing with his toys.
But this morning there was only a hump in the bed and she had to peer under the bedclothes to find him curled up like a small rabbit in a burrow at the very foot of it.
“What are you doing, Dipa?” she asked.
“It’s cold,” Dipa answered. “Cold. No sun.”
“You will soon get warm if you run about,” Carina told him. “Come and dress by the fire. It is lit in the nursery. And after breakfast we will go for a walk.”
“No, no,” Dipa cried. “Cold, cold!”
And he burst into a flood of protest in his own tongue.
Carina could not understand, but it was obvious that Dipa was not only cold but homesick. He wanted the sunshine and his own people and, perhaps more than anything else, his mother.
Carina’s heart melted with compassion. She pulled back the bedclothes and put her arms around the little boy and carried him into the day nursery with the eiderdown wrapped around him.
He cried and then murmured some unintelligible words into her neck and she knew that what she had guessed was right – he was homesick.
“Poor, poor Dipa,” she said aloud, knowing that he would never see his mother again and perhaps his own country was also lost to him.
She stroked his short hair and wondered what Governesses, schools and perhaps a University would make of him. Could he ever be happy in this strange climate, far away from the place to where his heart would always be homing?
He clung to her for some time. Then, with the elasticity of children, he jumped from her lap, teased her to catch him round the table and ran about pretending that he was a horse, while Carina tried to put his clothes on him.
Finally after quite a struggle she managed to dress him and by that time breakfast had been brought upstairs and she then started the inevitable difficulty of getting Dipa to eat what he thought was nasty and unappetising.
It was not easy for Carina to concentrate on Dipa’s troubles when all the time her thoughts kept veering downstairs.
What was Lord Lynche doing at this moment? And what indeed was the news of Sir Percy? If he had died in the night, what was her position now?
There were so many questions that remained unanswered that she was glad when, just as breakfast finished, a footman came to announce,
“Her Ladyship would like to see you, miss.”
“I will come down as soon as His Highness has finished his milk,” Carina answered.
“There were no instructions about the little boy,” the footman said. “Shall I tell Mrs. Barnstaple you would like someone to look after him?”
Carina hesitated for a moment.
“Perhaps that would be best,” she said.
She had learned by now that the servants obeyed the Dowager’s instructions absolutely to the letter. If she sent for one person, it was inconceivable in their minds that two should arrive.
She was the supreme authority. Her word was absolute law and they obeyed as slaves must have obeyed the Roman Emperors or as a Regiment jumps to the command of its Colonel.
‘What can she want?’ Carina asked herself nervously. ‘Could she have found out about last night?’
She decided that that was all too probable as the Dowager knew everything. And she felt herself shake with apprehension as she walked down the broad corridor that led to Lady Lynche’s bedroom.
She was hopeful of one thing, that the Dowager did not know of her son having lost his inheritance at a game of cards. But everything else would have been relayed to her and it was obvious that she would have to explain exactly why she had wished to kill Sir Percy Rockley.
Matthews was waiting to open the door and Carina thought that she looked a little white and strained. She barely returned Carina’s greeting and opened the door hurriedly so that Carina had the impression of being pitchforked forward as if she was a Christian being fed to the lions.
The Dowager was sitting upright in bed, her pillows piled behind her.
Around her neck she was wearing her strings of diamonds and similar stones glittered round her wrists below her bed jacket of white swansdown trimmed with mauve velvet ribbons.
She looked up as the door opened and fixed Carina with her piercing eyes.
“Good m-morning, my Lady,” Carina said a little nervously, and was aware that her voice shook as if she was a schoolgirl brought in front of the Headmistress.
“Why did you not kill him?” the Dowager asked.
It was not what Carina had expected her to say. She started and move
d nearer the bed.
“Answer me, girl! There is no need to be afraid of me if you were not afraid to hang,” the Dowager said. “If you had not shot him, I was prepared to kill him myself.”
As Carina stared at her speechless, the Dowager brought a small wicked-looking pistol from under her pillow.
“I have this with me always,” she said. “But I learned to shoot and to shoot straight. You should have taken lessons before you fired at Sir Percy.”
“I meant to kill him,” Carina said simply.
“And missed!” the Dowager interposed scornfully.
“He is alive?” Carina asked.
“He is alive,” the Dowager answered. “Oh, you are quite safe, girl. No chance of the gallows for you now, although someone should finish him off.”
“No!” Carina said quickly, somewhat appalled at the bloodthirsty tone of the conversation. “It was wrong of me – I see that now. But – when I learned that it was he who had brought about the death of my father – I could think of nothing except that he must die.”
“He played into your hands by coming up to your bedroom,” the Dowager remarked.
Carina flushed.
“I knew he was coming,” she answered, “because he sent his man ahead of him with a bottle of champagne.”
“The kind of thing he would do!” the Dowager exclaimed “He was always conceited enough to imagine that every woman he met was in love with him. One could hear his self-satisfaction in the way he talked. Lord knows why Justin ever made a friend of him.”
Carina prevented herself from saying that perhaps Lord Lynche was running away from his own thoughts.
After a moment the Dowager went on,
“You are wondering how I know about The Castle being lost at cards and what happened last night, aren’t you?”
“No, I am not surprised,” Carina answered. “You seem to know everything.”
“So you realise that, do you?” the Dowager smiled. “Well, it is true enough. I do know everything that happens in this place, even when they try to keep it from me. Why did you have luncheon in my son’s house yesterday?”
Carina looked at her wide-eyed. She had not expected the Dowager to know that. Then she realised that it was inevitable that whoever had told Lady Lynche that they went riding with her son would also know that she and Dipa had refused luncheon when they arrived back at The Castle.
The Dowager was obviously waiting for an answer.
“Lord Lynche asked me to go riding because he was so deeply distressed at what happened the night before,” Carina said. “He knew how it would affect you, and I think he felt that we, Dipa and I, were the only people – who were not involved in what had occurred.”
“The fool!” the Dowager said almost beneath her breath. “The stupid insane fool! How dare he gamble with what belongs to the family and not to him?”
“Don’t think about it, my Lady,” Carina pleaded. “It’s all over – The Castle is safe now.”
“Is it?” the Dowager asked harshly. “Are you sure of that?”
She shut her eyes and Carina realised how old and frail she was.
“I have lived for it,” she said brokenly. “I have lived for the traditions that have been handed down to me. And now in a drunken moment my son is prepared to lose it all.”
“Oh, please don’t think about it,” Carina begged her. “Sir Percy drove him into a corner, jeered at him for being a coward and forced him into a position where he could not withdraw – as he forced so many people – people like my father. For a man caution can often appear cowardice – and that was where Sir Percy was so clever and evil.”
The Dowager opened her eyes and looked at Carina, taking in the softness of her lips and the look of anxiety in her liquid eyes.
“So you are in love with him?” she said. “I suspected it.”
The colour flooded into Carina’s face and she drew herself up sharply almost as if the Dowager had struck her.
For a moment she did not speak.
And then, because the silence between them demanded an answer, she said,
“I don’t think that you have the right to ask me that question.”
“It’s not a question,” the Dowager snorted. “It’s a statement. You are in love with Justin and I suspect he is in love with you. Well, it might be worse. You are a lady, even though your father made a jackass of himself and caused a scandal. You can give Justin children who will perhaps have more sense and respect for their heritage than their father.”
“You forget that Dipa is the eldest son,” Carina pointed out.
She saw the Dowager’s face darken and the knuckles beneath the glittering rings went white as she clenched her hands.
“The eldest son!” she repeated. “The child of a trollop!”
“He is also a Lynche,” Carina said.
“I will not acknowledge him, I will not!” the Dowager exclaimed. “Something must be done. You took the law into your hands, why should I not take the law into mine?”
Her fingers went out towards the pistol lying on the ermine bedspread.
But Carina was quicker. Before the Dowager could grasp it, she bent forward and clutched it in her hand.
“No, no!” she cried. “There shall be no more killing. And you know as well as I do that you could not really harm an innocent child. You have to accept him. He is here – he is the heir. Somehow we will make him worthy of what his ancestors have fought for and what you have loved all your life.”
She spoke with intensity, holding the pistol against her breast. And, as her voice, passionate and pleading, died away, she heard the Dowager chuckle.
“I like you, girl,” Lady Lynche said. “You have more guts than all the men of this family put together. I like you and, when you marry my son, I will give you my blessing.”
“I am not going to marry him,” Carina said, “because he will not ask me.”
“Why not?” The Dowager’s voice was hard.
“I don’t know,” Carina said. “But there is something – something that holds him back – something that he will not tell me.”
“The fool!” the Dowager said again, but this time beneath her breath. “And yet it is right that he should be honourable.”
Carina looked at her and then looked away.
What did she mean? What could she interpret from this sentence?
Then the Dowager said briskly,
“There is time enough for both of you. You are young. I will speak to Justin. Damn it, but I never expected to take to my daughter-in-law and yet, as I have already said, I like you!”
“Thank you,” Carina said.
The Dowager looked her over as if she was appraising every inch of her body and then she said,
“Yes. You are no use as a Governess, far too impertinent and spirited. But you will make Justin a good wife and the family jewels will become you. Here, I have a present for you.”
She fumbled again under her pillows and to Carina’s astonishment brought out a case of blue velvet worn thin at the corners.
She held it out to Carina who took it from her, pressed the snap and lifted back the lid.
Carina gave a little gasp of amazement, for inside, lying on a bed of velvet, was the most magnificent diamond necklace she had ever seen.
“Do you like it?” the Dowager asked.
“It’s wonderful,” Carina said. “I cannot take this!”
“Take it? Of course you can take it,” the Dowager retorted. “It is mine to give. Nothing to do with the Lynches, their jewels are at the bank as I have no occasion to wear them. But that and what I am wearing now are my own. I intended to give it to you as a present for having ruined Sir Percy, now I will make it a betrothal present because you are to marry my son.”
“But I am not!” Carina expostulated. “Oh, please understand! I love Justin and I believe he loves me – but he has said that he cannot ask me to be his wife and I know that it must be the truth. I beg of you not to mention it to him �
�� not to let him think – ”
“All right, all right,” the Dowager interrupted. “I will spare your maidenly blushes. But you will take the present for trying to rid the world of a villain who should by rights be dead by now.
“Well – thank you,” Carina said. “I never thought I would own anything so magnificent – but I cannot think when I will wear it.
She paused a moment and a hint of mischief crept into her voice.
“I think your son’s guests would be slightly suspicious of the morals of a Governess who appeared so magnificently jewelled.”
The Dowager twinkled back at her.
“Wear it and be damned to them!”
“I will not promise to do that,” Carina answered, “but thank you – thank you more than I can ever say.”
She looked down at the velvet box, feeling that this was something she had never anticipated when she had come nervously into the room. .
Suddenly the Dowager put out her hand and touched Carina on the arm.
“Listen, girl,” she said. “You have told me you love my son. Promise me that when I am gone you will fight for him.”
“But of course,” Carina answered.
“He will need it,” the Dowager added and closed her eyes.
Carina knew that she was dismissed and with bewildered thoughts went upstairs to the nursery.
Dipa was playing happily with one of the younger housemaids and was not in the least interested in her return.
Then, because there was nothing for her to do, she went downstairs, still holding the box in her hand.
Newman was in the hall and she asked him,
“Is his Lordship anywhere about?”
“He’s in the library,” Newman answered.
“It’s very cold this morning,” Carina said. “Is everyone still in bed?”
“Most of the gentlemen left by the early train,” Newman answered. “You see, miss, they were all the pleasure-seeking kind and don’t care for any uncomfortableness.”
Carina prevented herself from smiling at the quaint word.
“Perhaps they were wise,” she said.
“His Lordship certainly did not press them to stay,” Newman said. “If you ask me, miss, he was glad to get rid of them.”
The Fire of Love Page 19