He glanced at the clock.
“The rest, Colonel Wakeford and two others, will be going back immediately after luncheon.”
“Will you please arrange for the Prince and me to have luncheon upstairs?' Carina said.
“I have already done so,” Newman answered. “I felt, miss, that you would not wish to be involved in any talk.”
“No, of course not,” Carina smiled. “Thank you, Newman.”
She hesitated a moment and the butler said,
“I should see his Lordship now if I was you, miss. There will be nobody disturbing him for half an hour at any rate.”
Carina did as he suggested.
She walked across the hall to the library, opened the door and saw that Lord Lynche was sitting at the desk, but he was not writing.
His head was in his hands and he appeared to her to be a man crushed by worry and despair. It was only a quick impression.
He turned his head as she entered and jumped hastily to his feet.
“Carina!” he exclaimed. “I was thinking of you.”
“I came to show you what your mother has given me for trying to kill Sir Percy,” Carina said. “I did not want to hurt her feelings by refusing it. It is something that eventually, of course, must belong to you, so I am asking you to put it somewhere safe.”
She opened the case as she spoke and showed the necklace to him.
“You have made quite a hit with my mother, haven’t you?” Lord Lynche said. “Keep it, Carina. It’s hers to give and she will want you to wear it.”
“But it is too much – too magnificent,” Carina protested. “You know that I cannot accept such a gift.”
“Why not?”
“One does not expect rewards for attempted murder,” Carina answered.
“Every farmer is duty bound to kill vermin – ”
“But I am not a farmer,” Carina interrupted, “and I know now that I was wrong – utterly wrong.”
“And yet out of evil has come good,” Lord Lynche said. “Percy will never play cards again and, because of what Colonel Wakeford has found out, he will be forced to leave the country. My lawyer has already left for London to settle up the affairs of those he has cheated. He will give Percy an ultimatum. Either to be taken to the Courts or to leave England for good, never to return. There is no doubt which course he will take.”
“So we are free, then, for ever?” Carina said.
“We are free of him,” Lord Lynche repeated. “Oh, Carina, what can I say to you – ?”
A knock on the door interrupted the rest of his sentence.
“What is it?” Lord Lynche asked testily.
“I am sorry to interrupt you, my Lord,” Newman said, “but Colonel Wakeford has returned from the hospital and wishes to speak to you.”
“Yes, yes. Of course I must see him,” Lord Lynche said.
He turned to Carina.
“Wakeford has been to the hospital fixing things up. He took with him Percy’s valet and his luggage. I must go and hear what he has to tell me.”
“Yes, of course,” Carina said.
“But I want to talk to you,” Lord Lynche said. “I must talk to you. There is so much that we have to say to each other.”
“Is there?”
She looked up at him and felt herself quiver because of the look in his eyes.
“I love you,” he said softly. “I cannot get through the day without talking to you of that and so many other things. Now I must go.”
“But of course,” Carina said quietly.
He took her hand in his.
“Come downstairs to me this evening,” he begged. “What time do you put the child to bed?”
“About six o’clock,” Carina answered.
“Then come here at about seven,” Lord Lynche said. “That will give us a short time together before dinner. I am afraid that Arthur is staying until tomorrow.”
“Perhaps – ”
Carina was stopped by the impetuous pressure of his fingers.
“Promise me you will meet me here then. I have to see you and this afternoon there are a number of things that must be attended to. You understand that?”
“I understand,” Carina agreed. “And I will be here about seven, as you suggest.”
“I shall be waiting,” he said and she felt his eyes on her lips almost as if he kissed her.
Then he was gone, hurrying from the room across the hall.
She realised that he had left her with the box containing the necklace and, after a moment’s thought, she walked across the room and put it in the drawer of his desk.
She would tell him about it later, she thought, and ask him to put it away in the safe.
Then she went upstairs to Dipa.
After luncheon when Carina had wrapped the little boy in his thickest coat, she took him for a walk, but he whimpered about the cold and so she took him upstairs again. They played games in the nursery until it was time for bed.
She tried not to hurry over bathing him. She dried him in front of the fire and warmed his nightshirt.
At the same time her heart was lifting and she knew that, however much she pretended to herself, she was thinking about Lord Lynche.
Directly Dipa was in bed she changed herself quickly, putting on a dress that she knew was becoming. It had a soft fichu of chiffon round the shoulders and a big rose pinned over her breast. It frilled out over her feet and had long sleeves that buttoned at the wrist.
The dress made her look very young and feminine and she arranged her hair simply because there was no time for elaboration.
When she was ready, it was nearly a quarter to seven. She peeped into Dipa’s room and as she suspected he was fast asleep with the bedclothes pulled up high round his neck until there was very little to be seen of him except the very top of his head.
‘How will he stand the cold of the winter?’ Carina wondered. And then everything went from her mind as she hurried down the stairs into the library.
Lord Lynche was waiting for her, standing on the hearthrug in front of the fire.
She saw the sudden light in his eyes as she came into the room and knew too that it was an effort for him not to go towards her and sweep her into his arms.
Instead he waited until she joined him and then they stood looking at each other, almost like two children lost in perplexity.
“You are very lovely,” he said at last, his voice deep with emotion. “In fact, you are lovelier every time I see you. This morning you were so sweet and puritanical in your plain blouse and skirt. But tonight I would like to take you to a ball in London and to show you off as being the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and to tell everyone that you belong to me.”
Carina dropped her eyes.
“But that would not be true, would it?”
“Don’t,” he begged. “Cannot you understand what I am suffering? Cannot you understand what it means to stand here and tell you I love you and know that I am wrong even to say it?”
“We have been through this before,” Carina said. “I will not ask for explanations. Cannot we be happy just as we are?”
“Happy?” Lord Lynche asked the question with a bitter note in his voice. “The Gods have given so much and yet they have tied my hands and sealed my lips.”
He looked down at her, and suddenly dropped on one knee at her side.
“Help me, Carina,” he pleaded. “I am not worthy of you and yet I beg you to love me a little just as I am.”
She resisted an impulse to put her arms around his neck and draw his head to her breast and instead said quietly,
“How can I help you?”
He rose to his feet and walked across the room and then back to her again.
“What can we do?' he asked. “I love you, I cannot let you go – and yet I cannot ask you to be my wife.”
There was silence for a moment.
Then Carina said in a very low voice, hardly above a whisper,
“Are you asking me to beco
me – your mistress?”
“Good God, no!”
Lord Lynche shouted the words at her and they seemed to echo round the room.
“Do you really believe that I am as bad, as despicable, as that?” he raged. “No man can look at you without thinking that you are the most beautiful women he has ever seen. But do you really think that I could stoop as low as Percy and try to seduce you? No, I was not thinking anything like that. It is just – oh Lord! What can I say?”
He seemed almost like a man distraught as he strode away from her, a frown between his eyes, his hands clenched and his whole body tense with emotion.
“I don’t understand – ” Carina said pitifully.
The library door opened as she spoke.
“I am busy,” Lord Lynche said sharply. “I do not wish to be disturbed.”
“I am sorry, my Lord,” Newman answered. “The Chief Constable, Major Hartley, is here,”
It seemed to Carina that there was something strange in Newman’s voice.
There was silence for a moment before Lord Lynche asked,
“Is he alone?”
“No, my Lord, Newman replied.
Carina looked in astonishment at the expression on Lord Lynche’s face.
He seemed to take a deep breath before saying,
“Ask him to come in.”
“Very good, my Lord.”
Newman closed the door and Carina looked across at Lord Lynche.
“What does he want?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Lord Lynche said slowly, as if he was choosing every word. “I don’t know.”
She felt that he was on his guard, for he did not speak to her, only moving to stand beside her on the hearthrug.
“Would you like me to go?” Carina asked.
“No, stay. It might be better,” he answered.
“Better for what?” Carina asked.
There was no time for the reply as Newman then announced,
“The Chief Constable, my Lord.”
A man entered the room alone. He was middle-aged with a military bearing and was wearing his official uniform.
Lord Lynche advanced and held out his hand.
“Good evening, Major Hartley. This is a surprise.”
“I am afraid it will be an unpleasant one,” Major Hartley answered.
“Indeed?”
Lord Lynche indicated a chair.
“Will you sit down and tell me what is troubling you? A glass of wine? It’s cold tonight.”
“No, thank you,” Major Hartley said.
He glanced at Carina, who felt uncomfortably that he wanted her out of the way.
“It would be best if I spoke to you alone,” Major Hartley said after a moment.
“Whatever you have to say can be said in front of Miss Claverly,” Lord Lynche answered. “She is entirely in my confidence.”
“Very well,” Major Hartley said. “But what I have to say will come as somewhat of a shock, I am afraid.”
“What can it be?” Lord Lynche asked. “Has one of my men been caught poaching? Or has someone run off with the estate funds?”
“No, nothing like that,” Major Hartley answered. “But we have information given to us that leads us to believe that you are harbouring under this roof someone who has been wanted by the Police for some years.”
“Indeed?” Lord Lynche said. “What makes you think that?”
Major Hartley frowned.
“Come, my Lord. There is no need to mince words. You know as well as I do who I am referring to.”
“I am afraid that what you are saying is quite incomprehensible to me,” Lord Lynche replied.
He spoke lightly and yet, watching him, Carina knew that there was an undercurrent of anxiety in his voice.
‘He is afraid,’ she thought.
“A little over a year ago,” Major Hartley said, “a warrant was issued for the arrest of Giles Lynche, wanted for murder. You informed us at the time, my Lord, that the person in question was dead. You had proof that he had died abroad. I believe that was incorrect. I am told that he returned here and is hidden in this Castle.”
“May I ask who gave you this interesting information?”
“I see no reason why I should tell you, as it is not usual to reveal our informants’ names,” Major Hartley replied. “But let me state that it is someone who has been staying here recently and whose servant was suspicious of certain things that he saw while about his duties.”
Carina felt herself stiffen.
She knew now that it was Sir Percy’s valet who had seen her coming through the sliding panel on the wall and she thought that she had recognised him at the bottom of the stairs.
It was Sir Percy who had given the information to the Police and chosen this way of having revenge!
Too soon had they said they were rid of him! His evil was still with them, he was still capable of damaging their lives and perhaps destroying their happiness.
“I cannot imagine what you are talking about,” Lord Lynche said.
“Well, in that case,” Major Hartley replied, “you will have no objection to our searching The Castle?”
“Searching The Castle?” Lord Lynche repeated.
“I have brought a dozen men with me,” Major Hartley said. “I am well aware of the difficulties of searching a place of this magnitude. But our informant has also told us in which direction it would be wise to look.”
“Then your task is quite an easy one,” Lord Lynche said. “Perhaps, however, you would allow me to inform my mother of what is happening. As you may know, she is very old and in ill health. If your Policemen should burst in on her unexpectedly, it would be very upsetting to say the least.”
“Of course, I quite understand,” Major Hartley said. “But you will also appreciate that I must come with you. I cannot allow you to leave the room alone, my Lord, and perhaps warn the person we are seeking so that he can get away.”
“But – damn it all,” Lord Lynche exclaimed, “this is like a melodrama in one of the playhouses!”
“I am sorry it should appear like that,” Major Hartley answered, “but I have to do my duty.”
“Of course,” Lord Lynche agreed. “Would you like to start with searching this room or perhaps interrogate my guests? Miss Claverly, I know, will be able to tell you that she has seen no sinister characters lurking about the corridors or hiding in the attics.”
“I don’t think we shall find the person we are seeking in the attics, but in the Tudor wing,” Major Hartley said. “Unless, of course, we have been misinformed.”
“Then the Tudor wing is at your disposal,” Lord Lynche said.
He spoke easily and calmly, but there was a little pulse beating in his neck that told Carina that he was by no means as confident as he sounded.
‘They will test the panelling,’ she thought. ‘They will knock on it and hear the hollow sound where the door is concealed.’
She imagined them bursting in and discovering the man with the white hair.
Then she found the answer to one question that had puzzled her.
“Giles Lynche!” the Chief Constable had said.
So it was Lord Lynche’s brother who lay there. But he looked old!
“Shall I lead the way?” Lord Lynche enquired. “Are you certain that you will not have a drink before you start?”
“Quite certain, thank you,” the Chief Constable answered grimly.
It was obvious that he was feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable at the task he had to perform and he was much the most awkward of the three as they walked from the room into the hall.
Here a dozen Policemen stood and muttered an uncomfortable “good evening, my Lord,” to Lord Lynche’s courteous greeting.
Still moving slowly without apparently the least concern Lord Lynche walked past them into the inner hall where the great staircase curved upwards. Carina, the Chief Constable and, lastly, the Policemen followed him.
The candles in the sconces wer
e already lit and for a moment the light seemed almost dazzling.
“This way, if you please,” Lord Lynche said, his foot on the first stair.
Then a voice from above commanded,
“Wait!”
Carina looked upwards and gave an audible gasp.
Standing at the top of the stairs, her hand on the banister as if to support herself, was the Dowager!
She was wearing a white robe of satin and lace. Her diamonds glittered and shone not only in the light of the candles but in the brilliant illumination of an oil lamp that had been put beside her on a low table.
She stood there facing them, splendid, magnificent and defiant, and Carina half expected to see a pistol in her hand.
But the Dowager’s hands were empty and her voice was clear and without a quiver as she asked,
“Justin, what are these men doing here?”
“Mama, you should not be out of bed,” Lord Lynche responded.
“Answer my question!” his mother replied. “Who are these men?”
“This is the Chief Constable, Mama. Major Hartley, I don’t think you have met my mother,” Lord Lynche said.
The Chief Constable, obviously a little discomposed at the appearance of the Dowager, bowed awkwardly.
“I do not know him,” Lady Lynche said sharply. “Where is my old friend Colonel Gibb’n?”
“He died a short while ago, Mama, I told you at the time.”
“And so this is his successor?” Lady Lynche said a little scornfully, as if Major Hartley did not come up to her estimation of what a Chief Constable should be.
“Yes, this is his successor,” Lord Lynche replied.
“And what is he doing here, I want to know?” the Dowager asked. “And why has he brought a private army with him? Why?”
“I am afraid, Mama, you will be upset by what I have to tell you,” Lord Lynche replied.
“Upset? Have you told me anything that was not upsetting?” the Dowager asked. “Do you think I am an idiot not to be aware that these men have not come in friendship? What do they expect to find?”
Before Lord Lynche could answer, Major Hartley moved a few steps up the staircase.
“I have brought, Madam, a warrant, which entitles us to search The Castle,” he said. “We have received information that your son, Giles Lynche, is not dead, as you previously announced, but is hiding here.”
The Fire of Love Page 20