An Introduction To The Eternal Collection Jubilee Edition (141 page)

“Let tomorrow take care of itself,” she said gaily, “we have today, Vane, you and I.”

Once again he raised her hand to his lips but he looked at her mouth so that she felt as if he kissed her. It was then that she vowed within herself that the day should not pass without her knowing again the thrill and the rapture of being close in his arms. The temptation to touch him was so strong that it was with an effort she turned towards the door.

“The sun is calling us, Vane, and the horses wait outside!”

Walking closely together, they came to the hall where Bateson, the butler, was waiting with his lordship’s hat and whip. Lord Brecon took them and, moving to the front door he stood for a moment at the top of the steps, looking down at the horses which were waiting for them. Both were fine animals, one a deep chestnut, the other so pale a grey that its coat was almost white. They were prancing restlessly, their grooms finding it hard to hold them.

“You have a good eye for horse-flesh, Vane,” Caroline said.

He smiled at her and there was an expression of pride on his face at her words.

“I rather flatter myself that my stable is exceptional,” he said, “but I was not too confident after all I have heard of the Mandrake breed.”

As they spoke together, there was the sound of wheels and a smart yellow curricle drawn by a tandem of bays came spanking up the drive from the stables. A groom was driving and a small, sharp-faced tiger was perched behind. The tiger -a boy of about fourteen - jumped down and ran to hold the leading horse.

“For whom is this?” Caroline enquired.

“It belongs to Gervase, I believe,” Lord Brecon answered and turned his head towards Bateson who was lurking in the background.

“Is Mr. Warlingham going driving, Bateson?”

“Mr. Warlingham is leaving, m’lord.”

Lord Brecon raised his eyebrows.

“I had not heard of his decision to terminate his visit.”

“I suppose we must wait to say good-bye,” Caroline said, anxious that the dark presence of Mr. Warlingham should not dim this moment of happiness yet already her thoughts were wondering at his sudden departure, seeking a reason for it.

Then quite clearly she found the answer. If, as she knew from last night, there was a crime to be committed or dirty work afoot, Mr. Warlingham would see to his alibi. It would not be policy for him to be in the Castle, although she doubted whether he would leave the neighbourhood.

She glanced quickly at the groom who was climbing down from the driving seat of the curricle. Yes, it was the man she had seen at the Temple last night. There was no mistaking that almost square head, thick neck and deformed ear and now she saw that he must, as she had suspected, have been a bruiser. The bridge of his nose was broken and there was a deep scar on his upper lip which gave his face a most unpleasant expression.

As he descended the horses champed at their bits and the leader started to rear. Instantly the tiger raised his clenched fist and brought it down with extreme violence on the horse’s nose. As Caroline gave a little gasp of astonishment, Lord Brecon ran down the steps and seized the boy by the collar.

“How dare you treat a horse in such a fashion?” he said angrily, and picking up the boy by the neck of his coat, he shook him as a terrier shakes a rat.

“That was a foul blow,” he continued, “and if you were in my employ, I would dismiss you instantly.”

He shook him again and the boy with the white face screamed,

“I be sorry, Gov’nor, lemme go. I be sorry.”

In answer Lord Brecon released his hold so that the boy sprawled on the gravel.

“You had best get away from here,” he said angrily, “for if I ever see you again ill-treating an animal in such a way, I will thrash you within an inch of your life. Do you understand?”

“Yus, sir, I be sorry, sir,” the boy whined, and jumping to his feet, edged away behind the curricle as if he were afraid that Lord Brecon would change his mind and thrash him there and then.

“What is happening?” a voice said beside Caroline, and she saw that Mr. Warlingham was standing in the doorway.

She did not answer his question, but wondered how much he had overheard. He descended to where Lord Brecon was soothing the frightened horse, patting and talking to it in a way it seemed to understand for instantly it became quieter.

“I must apologise, Vane if my tiger is inexperienced,” Gervase Warlingham said.

“Inexperienced is hardly the word!” Lord Brecon said sharply. “The boy has obviously no feeling for animals. You would do well to be rid of him, Gervase.”

Mr. Warlingham looked at the groom who was standing stiffly beside the curricle.

“See to it, Jackson,” he said briefly, and the man nodded. “And now I must bid you farewell, Vane,” Mr. Warlingham said. “I have heard this morning that my presence is urgently required in London. It is hard to leave such a pleasant party, but I must tear myself away. Good-bye, Vane.”

He held out his hand and Lord Brecon shook it.

“Good-bye, Gervase. Come again when you feel like rusticating.”

“I shall look forward to availing myself of your invitation,” Mr. Warlingham replied, and turned to Caroline, who had come slowly down the steps while they were talking.

“Good-bye, my new and very charming cousin,” he said suavely. “May I proffer a most sincere wish for your future happiness?”

There was something in his tone which made Caroline long to throw his wishes back in his face. Instead, she dropped him a curtsey and moved away without extending her hand.

“Good-bye, sir,” she said briefly.

Mr. Warlingham sprang into the driving seat and the grooms hurried to their places. With a flick of his whip the horses started off at a fine speed.

Caroline sighed as she watched the curricle out of sight, She was certain, that they had by no means seen the last of Mr. Warlingham. Yet once again she had nothing on which to base such a suspicion.

The grey horse was brought forward but when she waited for the groom to help her mount, Lord Brecon was before him and putting his hands on her waist, swung her up into the saddle.

“I have not forgotten how light you are,” he said softly.

She looked down into his face, forgetting everything save that she was in love and that she was speaking with a man who loved her.

As they rode away together over the green parkland, it seemed to Caroline that the day was enchanted. It was a feeling that was, to deepen as the hours passed. Lord Brecon led her over the broad meadows of his estate on to the common where the land climbed high until beneath them lay a wondrous view of the country spread out in all its unspoilt loveliness.

They reined in their horses under the shadow of a clump of gaunt pine trees and there, as Caroline looked at the view, Lord Brecon looked at her.

“Is there anything lovelier than a lovely woman sitting on a fine horse?” he asked.

Caroline dimpled at him and asked softly,

“Can we rest awhile?”

“Why not?” he enquired and dismounting, tied his horse to a tree then he lifted Caroline to the ground.

She spread her skirts over the soft carpet of fallen pine needles the fragrance of them was in the air, and the only sounds were the buzzing of bees and the song of the birds.

Having tied Caroline’s horse, Lord Brecon lowered himself beside her. He stretched himself out and reclining on one elbow, took off his hat.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“You!” Caroline replied truthfully.

“And I think only of you,” he said. “Caroline, I believe you are a witch, for you have cast a spell over me from which I can never escape.”

“I am glad of that,” Caroline said, “for spells, if they be potent ones, invariably last a hundred years, or so I am told.”

“And what good would that be?” Lord Brecon asked. “For I vow a hundred years with you, Caroline would seem but as many swiftly, speeding minutes and I should still be hungry for more.”

“Would you?” she whispered.

In answer he stood up and, reaching forward, took her hand in his. Gently he drew the glove from it, then turned it upwards and looked down at the network of lines crossing and re-crossing her palm.

“Shall I tell your fortune?” he asked.

“I am eager to hear it,” Caroline answered, “but what payment will you require?”

In answer Lord Brecon pressed his lips lingeringly and passionately in the centre of her palm.

“Just this,” he said, “unless your ladyship is generous enough to offer me more.”

Caroline felt the thrill of his touch run through her veins. For a moment she was very still and then she asked,

“How many women have you loved, before you met me, Vane?”

He looked up into her eyes and laughed.

“That is a very feminine question, Caroline.”

“Would you rather I was not feminine?”

“On the contrary, I adore you as you are. It is seldom that I catch you out in a moment of weakness. Shall I answer you truthfully or would you prefer me to tell you a fairy story?”

“I would like the truth, Vane.”

Caroline leaned back a little, resting herself against the tree and when the brim of her hat proved uncomfortable, she pulled it from her head and patted her curls into place. Then with a sigh of utter contentment she lay back again and said dreamily,

“Answer my question, Vane, for I am all impatience to hear it.”

He moved himself a little nearer to her.

“Very well,” he said. “I will tell you the truth. I have known many women in my time, women of all types and nationalities but until I saw you, Caroline, I had no understanding of what love could mean. Always, when I grew to know a woman intimately, I became bored, a trifle impatient perhaps with her stupidity, with the way she exploited her charms so very obviously, with her lack of brain and perhaps above all her lack of character. I believed in my stupidity that all women were the same, and that satiety must invariably follow familiarity. To desire was but I thought, to be an-hungered, and when one was fed – one forgot the very sensations that had been aroused.”

Vane gave a little laugh which was half apologetic.

“Faith, how pompous I sound. But then, Caroline, I fell in love. How inadequate those four words are to express an experience such as ours. For is there not between us something else, something deeper and more significant which cannot possibly be explained in words?”

“And those other women?” Caroline began, but Lord Brecon bent towards her and suddenly his lips were very close to hers.

“Must we talk of them, darling?” he asked. “They are only ghosts, poor, weak, trifling little ghosts which I find strangely hard to remember at this moment when you are close to me and I can feel your breath on my cheek when I know that I have but to put out my hand to feel the beating of your heart.”

With a quickening of her senses Caroline drew a deep breath, and then he said,

“‘Look at me, Caroline.”

She looked into his eyes and knew then, as he had never known before, how completely he loved her. If he was caught in a spell of enchantment, then so was she, and a hundred years or a hundred centuries would make no difference - they could never escape. For a long, long moment they looked at each other and then gently, with a tenderness that he had never shown before, Lord Brecon took her into his arms.

For a long time they sat there close to each other, caught into a rapture more poignant, more beautiful, than anything they had ever known and when at last Caroline moved to hide her face against his neck, he knew that she was near to tears.

Thereafter an hour passed and yet another. Sometimes they talked sometimes they were silent, but all the time they were happy as neither of them had ever known happiness. Caroline trembled and quivered beneath Vane’s embrace, but it was without that element of fear which he had aroused in her at other times. Now his tenderness made her understand, as his words and arguments had never done, the sheer selflessness of his devotion to her. Now she understood why even his passion and his utter need of her had been subdued to his finer instincts, to his belief, as to what was right and best for her.

“Oh, Vane,” she said at last with a little sob, “if this cannot go on for ever, then I would wish to die now here in your arms and I would welcome such a death with joy.”

In answer he held her a little closer, but said quietly,

“We agreed not to talk of the future. Come, my love, you must be hungry. I will take you to an inn I know not far from here where we can find a meal of sorts, for I feel you would rather not return to the Castle and let others encroach upon our golden day!”

“No, pray do not let us go back,” Caroline cried.

The inn was a small one and they were the only guests; but honoured and delighted by their visit, the landlord brought forth his best and luncheon, though simple, was an enjoyable meal.

When it was over, they rode again, and Lord Brecon, knowing the country, took Caroline by unfrequented ways to a long grass drive on which they could gallop, to a quiet wood through which they could wander, to a little stream where they let their horses drink while they sat talking on the bank which was golden with kingcups.

At last the sun began to sink behind the distant hills and the shadows to lengthen.

“We must turn our faces homeward,” Lord Brecon said, and Caroline sighed.

“Must we go back?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Supposing we ran away together like Harriet and Thomas Stratton?”’ she asked. “Supposing we were lost to all who knew us, to all we once knew would not that be indeed heaven?”

“Heaven indeed,” Lord Brecon answered, “but Caroline, as you are well aware, it is impossible.”

Caroline sighed and knew, though he had not said it in so many words, that wherever they went, however much they cast off the responsibilities of their position, the thought of Cassy must still accompany them.

It was nearly twilight when they reached the Castle. Caroline was tired, but happy with a deep contentment which seemed to make everything, even the darkness of the towers, less fearful.

It seemed as if the golden radiance of the day had seeped into her bones, so, that she could not for the moment return to the fears and tribulations which she knew were waiting for her