Call of the Heart (18 page)

There were so many questions for which Lalitha could find no answers, but each one of them made her more afraid, more panic-stricken about what was happening to her and what lay ahead.

Then somehow she knew that if indeed it was the “White Slave Traders” who were taking her away to dispose of her so that no-one would ever see her again, there was someone else responsible for their action!

Who had planned exactly the manner in which she could be tricked into falling in with their scheme?

There was only one person who hated her to the point where she wished her dead, one person who wished to revenge herself because Sophie was not Lord Rothwyn’s wife as she wished to be.

One woman—one person of whom she was more afraid than of anyone else in the whole world.

Her so-called Step-mother!

Lord Rothwyn stirred, feeling that someone had called him. He found himself listening, then he heard a dog whining.

He wondered where the animal could be, then heard a sharp bark followed again by continued whining, and realised that it was Royal.

It was coming from Lalitha’s bed-room, which communicated with his but the door between them had not been opened since she’d come to Rothwyn House.

He listened for a little while longer and then decided that something must be wrong.

He was convinced that Royal would not whine in such a manner if Lalitha was with him, if she had been asleep as his bark would undoubtedly have awakened her.

Lord Rothwyn rose, lit the candle beside his bed, and put on his silk robe. Walking to the communicating door, he knocked on it gently.

The only reply was another sharp bark from Royal and after waiting for a moment he opened the door.

The room was in darkness and he went back to fetch the candle from beside his bed.

Royal followed him, jumped up at him eagerly, and now Lord Rothwyn was certain that something was amiss.

He returned to Lalitha’s bed-room.

There was a faint, sweet fragrance on the air which he realised he always associated with her, but when he raised his candle high so that its light could illuminate the bed he saw that it had not been slept in.

For a moment he found it hard to think; impossible to formulate in his own mind what could have happened.

Where had Lalitha gone? Why was she not here?

It was inconceivable at this late hour of the night that she should still be downstairs where he had left her when he’d said good-night and gone to his own bedroom with Sir William Knighton.

Urgently, aware of an acute feeling of apprehension, he went back into his own room and pulled violently at the bell-rope. He jerked it up and down for several seconds, then opened the outer door and went out onto the landing.

The downstairs part of the house was in darkness. There was only the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the Hall.

What could have happened? How was it possible that Lalitha could have disappeared?

He turned towards his own bed-room, and as he did so his valet came running down the passage, buttoning his waistcoat, his hair dishevelled, and a look of apprehension on his face. “What is it, M’Lord?” he asked. “Are you ill?”

“Where is Her Ladyship?” Lord Rothwyn demanded. “She is not in her bed-room.”

“Not in her room, M’Lord?”

The valet glanced through the open communicating door as if he felt that His Lordship must be mistaken.

“She must be somewhere in the house,” Lord Rothwyn said as if he wished to convince himself. “Go up to Nurse’s room and see if she is there, if she is not, awaken the Major-Domo and tell him to come to me immediately.”

I’ll do that, M’Lord.”

The valet hurried away and Lord Rothwyn began to dress.

He looked at the clock and saw that it was just after two in the morning.

Could it be possible, he asked himself, that Lalitha had run away again?

He was sure that she had been glad when he had brought her back the last time after Sophie had driven her out of Roth Park.

He had seen the tears on her face and when she had come from the stage-coach to join him in the curricule, and he had known by her expression when she had joined him downstairs this evening in the Salon that she was happier than he had ever seen her before.

If she had gone away, then he was sure it was not of her own contriving. But who could have persuaded her once again to leave him?

“It is not possible!” he murmured to himself.

He was almost dressed when his valet came back into the room. Behind him was the Major-Domo.

“Nurse has not seen Her Ladyship, M’Lord,” the valet said. Lord Rothwyn turned to the Major-Domo.

“Hobson, have the house searched from top to bottom,” he said, “and find out if anyone has seen Her Ladyship leave.” “I’ll do that, M’Lord.”

“No-one called after Sir William Knighton left?” Lord Rothwyn asked.

“No-one, M’Lord, while I was in the Hall, but I’ll enquire of the footman who was on night-duty.”

“Do that, and hurry,” Lord Rothwyn said. “At the same time order a carriage. I may need one—I do not know.”

The Major-Domo left and the valet assisted Lord Rothwyn into his coat.

He did not speak because he was thinking deeply, trying to imagine what could have happened, wondering where he should look for Lalitha.

Even if she had intended, for some strange reason of her own, to journey to Norfolk to her old Nurse, it would be unlikely that she would have left in the middle of the night.

She would be aware that there were no stage-coaches leaving London until six or seven o’clock in the morning, and had she wished to run away it would have been quite soon enough for her to leave the house at five.

“Did Nurse notice anything unusual about Her Ladyship when she put her to bed?” he asked at length.

“Nurse was taken ill last night, M’Lord, and so were the two head house-maids.” “Then who attended Her Ladyship?”

“I’m not certain, M’Lord, but I think it would have been Elsie.”

“Fetch her here immediately!” Lord Rothwyn ordered.

The valet hurried to obey. Lord Rothwyn put some loose guineas into his trouser pocket and opened a wallet to see if, as he expected, there were a number of Bank-notes in it.

He had the feeling that he must be prepared, but for what he had no idea.

Royal was sitting on the hearth-rug watching him and he wondered what the dog knew and what he could tell if only he could talk.

For one thing, why had he been alone in Lalitha’s bed-room? If he had jointed her downstairs; as was usual after his walk, would she have brought him upstairs and shut him in the room alone?

There were so many unanswerable questions.

He wondered if Lalitha had taken anything with her.

He remembered a cloak she had been wearing when she had travelled in the stage-coach.

It had been among the clothes he had ordered to be sent to Rothwyn House, and he remembered thinking that the very dark blue of the material made her skin seem dazzling white in contrast.

He walked once again into her bed-room and opened the wardrobe doors.

It was filled with gowns, some of which Nattie had brought back with her from Rothwyn House.

Others were new, of which he had approved the designs and which had been delivered since Lalitha had been in London.

He looked at them and realised two things: the dress Lalitha had been wearing tonight was not there, but the cloak which in fact was the only one she possessed was hanging by itself at one side of the wardrobe.

He walked to the dressing-table and then saw that the jewellery-case which contained the set of diamond stars which had belonged to his mother was lying open.

The necklace, the bracelet, and the stars that Lalitha had worn in her hair had all been put back into the hollowed-out places into which they fitted.

Lord Rothwyn stared at them; then, hearing voices, he went back into his own room.

The door opened and the Major-Domo entered. With him were four servants.

“You have found out something, Hobson?” Lord Rothwyn asked quickly, as if he could not wait for the Major-Domo to speak first.

“I’ve discovered something very strange, M’Lord,” the Major-Domo replied.

“What is it?”

“Henry here took the little dog Royal into the gardens tonight after dinner, as is usual, M’Lord.”

“I meant no harm—I swear I meant no harm, M’Lord,” Henry whimpered.

“Be silent!” the Major-Domo said sharply. “Let me tell His Lordship.”

“Go on,” Lord Rothwyn prompted.

“But Henry did not take the dog straight back to Her Ladyship, as was his orders,” the Major-Domo continued. “Later in the evening George heard Royal whining and scratching at the door of an out-house.” Lord Rothwyn glanced at the young footman who he remembered was a nephew of the Butler at Roth Park.

“You were certain it was Royal?”

“I was certain, M’Lord, ‘though I didn’t see ’im.” “You did not open the door?”

“No, M’Lord, it was locked.” “Then how did you know it was Royal?”

“I’ve taken ’im out often enough, M’Lord, both ’ere and in the country. When I whistled to ’im ’e were quiet.”

“What did you do about his being locked up?”

“I spoke to Henry, M’Lord,” the Major-Domo replied.

“What did he say?”

“He said if I knew what was good for me I’d keep my mouth shut!”

“Go on,” Lord Rothwyn said to the Major-Domo. “I’ve also found, M’Lord,” the Major-Domo continued, “that Nurse, Miss Robinson, the first housemaid, and Rose, the second house-maid were all taken ill after supper this evening. Elsie therefore waited on Her Ladyship.”

Lord Rothwyn glanced at Elsie.

She was wearing a white shawl over her flannel night-gown and her hair fell untidily on either side of her face. She was very pale and though she held her head high he fancied that there was a look of fear in her eyes.

“What happened when you put Her Ladyship to bed?” Lord Rothwyn asked.

“Nothing, M’Lord,” Elsie replied defiantly.

Then Henry burst in:

“That’s not true, M’Lord, but we meant no harm— I swear we meant no harm!”

“What did you do?” Lord Rothwyn asked.

“It was just . . . the lady, M’Lord,” Henry said “What lady?”

“The lady that has been asking almost every day about Her Ladyship’s health.”

“She asked you?”

“Yes, M’Lord, she came to the side-door the first time I happened to be on duty there. She asked me about Her Ladyship and gave me half a sovereign. I didn’t think there were any harm in it—honest, M’Lord!”

“What happened?” Lord Rothwyn asked.

“She came three times this last week,” Henry answered.

“Each time she tipped you?”

“Yes, M’Lord.”

“Then what happened?”

“She asked me, M’Lord, if she could talk to one of the maids. She said she was interested in Her Ladyship because she’d known her when she was a child.”

“So you took Elsie to her?”

“Not to the carriage, M’Lord.”

“Then where?”

“To a house, M’Lord.”

“Where was that?”

“In Hill Street, M’Lord.”

Lord Rothwyn stiffened. A pattern was beginning to emerge. “Why did you take Elsie, who seldom if ever waits on Her Ladyship?”

“I didn’t think Nurse or Miss Robinson would go, M’Lord.” Lord Rothwyn looked again at Elsie.

Now she was palpably nervous, twisting her fingers together. “Like Henry, I didn’t mean any harm, M’Lord.” “What happened? Tell me exactly. I want to know every word that was said!”

Elsie drew a deep breath.

“She seemed a nice lady, M’Lord. She spoke ever so pleasantly about Her Ladyship.”

“What did she ask you?”

There was a moment’s pause and then the colour surged into Elsie’s face.

“I asked you a question,” Lord Rothwyn said harshly, “and I expect an answer!”

Elsie dropped her head and said almost inaudibly: “She asked me if you and Her Ladyship slept in the same room.”

“What did you answer?”

“I said no, M’Lord.”

“What did the lady reply to that?”

“She said to the gentleman: ‘That’s what I told you. ’” “Gentleman? What gentleman?” Lord Rothwyn asked sharply.

“There was a gentleman with her in the room, M’Lord.”

“What was he like?”

“He were a foreigner, M’Lord.”

“Describe him!”

“Rather flashy, M’Lord. He wore a lot of jewellery.” “Was he old or young?”

“Not very young, M’Lord.”

“What was his reply to the lady’s remark?”

Again there was silence, but this time it appeared that Elsie was really trying to remember what had been said.

“I’m not quite certain I’ve got it right, M’Lord,” she said, “but I think he said, though it didn’t make sense to me: ‘That makes the merchandise more valuable.’” Lord Rothwyn drew in his breath sharply.

“What happened after that?” he asked. “I want the truth.” “The lady said there was someone who was very anxious to speak with Her Ladyship, but she’d have to meet him in secret ... I ... I ... thought ... it was the gentleman in the room.”

“What then?” Lord Rothwyn asked.

“She promised me five pounds, M’Lord, if I would arrange for Her Ladyship to come out just for a second to speak to the gentleman who’d be waiting for her in a carriage. I never thought they’d take her away! I never dreamt they’d do such a thing!”

“But you did not usually wait on Her Ladyship.” “The lady gave me some powder to put in the pie for supper. She said it wouldn’t harm Nurse or the other house-maids.”

“And it was her idea that you should ask her Ladyship to come and find Royal?” Lord Rothwyn asked in a hard voice. “She told me to say there’d been an accident, M’Lord.”

“And what was Henry to receive?” Lord Rothwyn enquired. “Five pounds, M’Lord,” Henry muttered.

Lord Rothwyn was silent for a second and then he said:

“Did they say anything else, either the lady or the gentleman who was with her? Did they say anything— anything except to tell you what to do? Think now, it might be important.”

Elsie looked at Henry but he was staring down at his feet. Then she said:

“Just as I was leaving the room, M’Lord, I thought the gentleman said something. I couldn’t quite catch it, but it sounded like ‘tide.’ ”