“No,” he answered gently, as one might speak to a child. “Now that my brother is dead, the title is inherited by his son – Dipa.”
Carina gave a little exclamation.
“Dipa?” she repeated incredulously.
Lord Lynche moved away as if he could not bear to be so close to her.
“Perhaps I had better start at the beginning,” he said. “It is a story that you are entitled to hear. Will you sit down?”
Because she was afraid that her legs would no longer carry her, Carina seated herself on the brocade-covered sofa by the fireplace.
Her eyes were very dark in her white face.
She raised them towards Lord Lynche as he stood looking down at her, his arm on the marble mantelpiece.
“My brother Giles was ten years older than I,” he began. “He was always a gay dog and had little use for living in the country and trying to look after the estate. But my mother adored him. He had always been her favourite and she would hear no ill of him and if she did she would not believe it, not even when he killed a man.”
“Killed?”
“‘Murdered’ is a better word,” Lord Lynche replied. “He was only a shopkeeper, but he had a very pretty wife. The husband returned home unexpectedly and my brother shot him dead without there being the slightest excuse of self-defence.”
“How horrible!” Carina exclaimed.
“It was indeed a crime for which there was no justification,” Lord Lynche agreed. “But owing to my mother’s influence with the Home Secretary, the whole matter was hushed up and not a breath of scandal reached the newspapers,”
Lord Lynche paused a moment and looked down at the flames.
“I think,” he added in a low voice, “that from that moment on she was unbalanced, almost, if one is frank, a little mad,”
“She was wonderful all the same,” Carina said.
“Yes, indeed,” he answered. “But her whole life was centred on one issue – to save my brother from the consequences of his crime,”
“Perhaps every mother would have felt the same,” Carina suggested.
“Perhaps,” Lord Lynche agreed. “Anyway, with her genius for organisation, she had him smuggled abroad and contrived that, although a warrant had been issued for his arrest, it would never be put into operation unless he returned to this country.”
“She was not able to see him,” Carina said, her heart aching a little for the woman who loved her son, but who had been forced to send him into exile.
“There was nothing else she could do,” Lord Lynche replied, “if she was to save him from being hanged. My brother always had a hasty temper and there were innumerable stories, all of which would have come out at a trial, of his injuring people who annoyed him. No, my mother did the only thing she could do at the time,”
“What happened then?” Carina asked.
“My brother went abroad and we heard vague rumours of his excesses and the dissolute life he was leading in Paris, Monte Carlo, India and the East. But we had no idea that he had married a Javanese.”
Lord Lynche paused.
“I have learned since that she was a dancer of some repute. My brother must have ruined her reputation and her career as he ruined so many other people he came in contact with.”
Lord Lynche gave a little sigh as if he regretted the personal relationship between himself and his brother that had gradually become estranged through the years.
Briskly he continued,
“My father fell ill and a month before he died my brother returned home.”
“How frightening for you!” Carina exclaimed.
“It was indeed. He came to The Castle secretly one night. He was very ill, penniless and suffering from a disease that he had caught in the East, which had not only turned his hair white, but had begun to affect his brain. It was a kind of creeping paralysis, for which in the advanced stages the doctors say there is no cure.”
“How ghastly for your mother!” Carina cried.
“It was ghastly for all of us,” Lord Lynche answered, “because we knew that if one whisper got out about Giles’ return to the country, he would be sent for trial and there would be no question what the sentence would be.”
“So you hid him?” Carina prompted.
“My mother was determined,” Lord Lynche went on, “that there should be no stigma on the family name. Besides which, whatever he was like, she still loved her son. She put him into the Priest hole in the Tudor Wing of The Castle. Only three people, besides ourselves, knew that he was there – and that is why I cannot imagine how Percy Rockley discovered his whereabouts.”
Carina almost started to say that Sir Percy’s valet had seen her come through the sliding panel. But she changed her mind and thought that there would be plenty of time later to tell Lord Lynche of her part in this drama.
At the moment she wanted to hear the end of the story and know for the first time the whole truth.
“I think that Rockley must have been suspicious,” Lord Lynche went on ruminatively. “He often talked of Giles and asked where he had died. I have forgotten to tell you that we announced his ‘death’ immediately after he returned to this country. It was put in The Times and my mother received quite a lot of letters of condolence from her friends.”
“Why should Sir Percy have been suspicious?” Carina asked.
“I have no idea,” Lord Lynche replied. “But perhaps he had an idea of blackmail or was just making life uncomfortable. Rockley was always on the lookout for anything that could be turned to his advantage Anyway, my mother had anticipated that there might be people like Percy Rockley in the world.”
“What do you mean?” Carina enquired.
“I mean that she had, I have learned now, made her plans just in case Giles was ever betrayed,” Lord Lynche replied. “As far as we knew, only three people knew of his existence – Newman, who is the essence of integrity, Mrs. Barnstaple, who had loved him as a child and his own valet, Robert, who had been with him for nearly twenty years.”
“They were all loyal and trustworthy,” Carina said quickly.
“Of course they were,” Lord Lynche agreed. “I would have trusted any of them with my own life. But my mother was determined to be prepared for every contingency.”
“What did she do? And how did she know that the Chief Constable had arrived?” Carina asked almost impatiently.
“I was just coming to that,” Lord Lynche answered. “When the Police arrived, Newman opened the door and, as you know, he brought Major Hartley into the library. He then questioned one of his men as to why they had come and, hearing the answer, slipped upstairs to my mother’s room. He was one of the people in The Castle who always kept her informed of everything that happened.”
Carina said nothing and Lord Lynche continued,
“My mother took the news quite calmly. She told him to go downstairs at once, but on the way to take the huge oil lamp that always stood in the sewing room next door to her bedroom and place it on a small table at the top of the stairs.”
“Did Newman know what she intended to do with it?” Carina asked.
“He had not the slightest idea and he never questioned her. All the servants and most other people did exactly what my mother required of them without argument.”
Lord Lynche smiled as he spoke and Carina could not help smiling too. It would have been a very brave person who would have dared to oppose the formidable Lady Lynche.
“Newman came downstairs,” Lord Lynche went on, “and my mother got out of bed and set fire to her bedroom. The curtains and covers burned like paper. She then moved slowly along the passage and stood waiting at the top of the stairs.”
Lord Lynche paused for a moment as if in an effort to keep his voice free of emotion.
Then, with superb self-control, he continued,
“She was well aware that all the servants were at supper. She had everything planned. She was prepared to burn down The Castle she loved more than anything else in the w
orld except for her son Giles. No woman could in her own way have made a greater or more heart-searing sacrifice.”
“But it meant that she would also destroy her son,” Carina cried.
“My mother knew that Giles had been in a coma since he had fallen down and cut his forehead,” Lord Lynche replied.
Carina quickly put her fingers up to her lips to prevent herself from saying that she had seen him and had bandaged the wound.
“We both realised a long time ago that a lack of balance might be expected at any time due to the disease he was suffering from,” Lord Lynche continued. “Giles died in the fire, but he felt nothing, and knew nothing. It was perhaps the most magnificent funeral pyre any man could have.”
“And Major Hartley? Will he be satisfied?” Carina asked.
“Major Hartley has nothing to show for his suspicions,” Lord Lynche replied. “There is only the spiteful allegation of Rockley and his man that someone wanted by the Police was hiding in The Castle and that there was a Tudor Priest’s hole where he could be concealed. But Major Hartley has nothing by which he can confirm these rumours and that part of The Castle has been completely destroyed.”
“And now?” Carina asked.
“Now I must put right the wrong that has been done since my father’s death,” Lord Lynche said, unconsciously squaring his shoulders. “I took the title knowing my brother was alive and it was something I could not refuse my mother in the circumstances. But I had no idea that my brother had married or that he had a child.”
“I thought he was yours,” Carina said in a low voice.
“Of course you did. And so did Chi-Yun, because all she read in the newspapers was that the son of the late Lord Lynche had inherited the title. I don’t suppose that Giles ever told her that he had a brother.”
“But – Dipa?” Carina said anxiously.
“Dipa is Lord Lynche and therefore must be acknowledged and in time take his place as the Head of the Family.”
“And you – what happens to you?” Carina asked.
“I have already told you, I have nothing,” Lord Lynche replied. “In my father’s will, and indeed all through the centuries, everything has been given to the eldest son. I had meant to go into the Foreign Office and carve myself some sort of career, but, when Giles was sent into exile, my mother made me stay at home. My father was not well, his life hung on a thread for about five years before he died. She made up her mind what must be done if he died before Giles. And because I loved her, I agreed to all the wrong she suggested.”
“Perhaps it was not wrong,” Carina said gently. “She could not bear to have her son hanged and, when he did die, you would have become Lord Lynche – except for Dipa.”
“Except for Dipa,” Lord Lynche repeated.
He drew a deep breath and walked away from her towards the window where he stood gazing out into the distance.
“He has changed everything,” he said in an almost strangled voice. “But one thing he cannot alter. I love you and I want you more than I thought it possible to want any woman. I worship you, Carina. But I can offer you nothing, save a little comfort in the few years that I might be Dipa’s Guardian and then poverty, perhaps in an obscure cottage somewhere on the estate.”
His voice ceased and there was a sudden dejection about the stance of his figure as if he thought that she must refuse him.
Carina did not answer.
Instead she rose from her seat by the fire and moved silently across the carpet towards him.
He had not anticipated her coming and gave a start as he found her at his side, her little hand on the arm of his coat.
“Do you really think that matters?” she asked. “I love you – I think I have loved you since the very first moment I saw you. I thought then that I hated you intensely – but I did not listen to what my heart was telling me. Do you think that money, position, a title – anything – is of importance, except that I am yours –yours to follow you wherever in the world you may care to go?”
He stared at her as if he could hardly believe what she was saying.
And then, his eyes blazing and the sound of sheer triumph bursting from his lips, he took her into his arms.
He kissed her at first gently, but then wildly, passionately, as if the hunger in his heart could no longer be controlled.
He kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, her forehead and the little pulse that hammered in the whiteness of her neck. Then his lips were once more on hers, demanding her whole being, as if he wanted not only her love but her soul and life in his keeping.
“I love you, Carina,” he breathed. “God, how I love you! And I will make you mine – mine for ever.”
Neither of them heard the door open.
They did not see a footman enter, look at them with astonished eyes and retire to knock loudly on the door.
The sound made them spring apart and Lord Lynche called out “come in” in a voice deep and hoarse with emotion.
As the footman entered, Carina was moving towards the fireplace tidying with fingers that trembled the tumbled curls around her flushed cheeks.
“What is it?” Lord Lynche asked testily.
“I’m sorry to disturb your Lordship,” the footman answered, “but there be a man here askin’ for Lady Lynche. When I informed him that her Ladyship was dead, he said that it’s imperative that he should speak with your Lordship.”
“Tell him to come back tomorrow,” Lord Lynche commanded.
“He be a foreign gentleman,” the footman said doubtfully. “In fact I understood him to say he had come from Java.”
Lord Lynche looked across the room at Carina.
“Show him in,” he said curtly.
The footman closed the door behind him.
“Who can it be?” Carina asked wonderingly.
“Perhaps by ‘Lady Lynche’ he means Chi-Yun,” Lord Lynche replied. “It may be a relation who has not heard of her death. Anyway, we had best see him.”
“Of course,” Carina agreed.
Their eyes met and he whispered softly,
“I love you and I cannot believe yet that you really love me.”
She smiled at him, her lips red and warm from his kisses, her eyes so brilliant with happiness that they seemed to shine out of her face.
But there was no time to answer him.
The door had opened again and the footman announced,
“The gentleman to see you, my Lord,”
A little man came into the room and Carina saw at first glance that he was undoubtedly Javanese.
He was wearing his native sarong and over it a cheap black coat of Western make. In his hand he carried a rather battered bowler hat. There was no mistaking the anxiety in his yellow face with its high cheekbones, as he bowed low and very respectfully.
“I would speak with Lord Lynche,” he said in a high sing-song voice.
“I am Lord Lynche!”
The little man looked up and hesitated.
“No,” he said. “You not my Master,”
“I think, then, you must have known my brother,” Lord Lynche replied. “He was in Java at one time, but he is dead,”
The little man bowed as if in respect.
“Can I help you?” Lord Lynche enquired.
The Javanese looked around him for a moment. He seemed to be searching for words.
Then he said,
“I come for my son,”
“Your son?” Lord Lynche questioned.
“My son,” the man repeated. “He named Dipa. He stolen from me by Lady Lynche, who in our country we call Chi-Yun,”
“Stolen? What do you mean, stolen?” Lord Lynche asked sharply. “He was her child, was he not?”
The little man shook his head.
“No, sir,” he said. “You not understand. Child of Chi-Yun and my Master, who we call Mr. Lynche, die. He very sickly baby and heat too much. He die after two years,”
“He died?” Lord Lynche repeated incredulously.
“Yes, yes,” the Javanese said quickly, pleased that someone could understand what he was trying to convey. “Chi-Yun cry very much, then she forget. My Master go away, but other men kind to her – you understand? Only she get ill,”
“What happened then?” Lord Lynche asked.
The little man made a gesture with his hands.
“Chi-Yun ill. Have very little money. And lonely without Master and child. One day she see in newspaper Master become big rich Lord in England. She scream, get very angry,”
Lord Lynche glanced towards Carina, whose eyes were on the little man’s face, watching him as if spellbound.
“My wife and I try to make her happy,” the Javanese went on, “but one day Chi-Yun say she go to England. She get money from this Lord, she say, because she his lady, she Lady Lynche.”
“So she went?” Lord Lynche asked.
“Yes, she went,” the Javanese answered, “and when she go to big ship, she ask our son – Dipa – go with her to harbour. Dipa very pleased, like going in carriage.”
“I begin to see what happened,” Lord Lynche said reflectively.
“When Dipa not come home,” the little man continued, “my wife very worried. We go to harbour. They tell us Chi-Yun take Dipa with her on ship.”
“So what did you do then?” Lord Lynche enquired.
“I work – very very hard,” the man answered. “I work and work – until I have enough money come to England. My wife remember all that Chi-Yun tell her about big Castle where Master live as little boy. I sure when I arrive England I find Chi-Yun and – Dipa.”
He stopped and looked first at Lord Lynche and then at Carina.
“Dipa?” he asked anxiously, “Dipa, my little son – he here?”
Carina jumped to her feet.
“Wait a minute,” she said.
She ran across the room, pulled open the door and sped through the hall. It took her only a few seconds to reach the kitchen.
Dipa was sitting at the kitchen table eating currant cakes, which the cook was handing to him hot from the oven.
Carina lifted him down from the chair.
“Come, Dipa, come quickly,” she said breathlessly.
As if her excitement infected him, he started to laugh and to jump about.
She caught him by the hand and ran back with him to the drawing room.
The Fire of Love Page 22