Authors: Barbara Cartland
Only those who lived with her knew how hard, how parsimonious, and how cruel she could be.
She had a temper which she made no attempt to control unless it suited her and Lalitha saw now with a little tremor of fear that she was in a rage.
“Come here, Lalitha!” she said as her Step-daughter entered the room.
Timidly she did as she was told and Lady Studley held out towards her a lace dress on which the bottom flounce had been torn.
“I told you,” she said, “the day before yesterday to mend this.”
“I know,” Lalitha answered, “but honestly, I have not had time, and I cannot do it at night. My eyes hurt and it is impossible to see the delicate lace except in the day-light.”
“You are making excuses for incompetence and laziness as you always do!” Lady Studley said scathingly.
She looked at Lalitha, and as if the girl’s appearance made her lose her temper she suddenly stormed at her:
“You lazy little slut! You waste your time and my money when you should be working. I have told you not once but a thousand times I will not put up with it and when I tell you to do a thing you will do it at once!”
She threw the lace dress on the floor at Lalitha’s feet.
“Pick it up!” she shouted, “and in case you forget what I am telling you I will teach you a lesson you will not forget in a hurry!”
She walked across the room as she spoke to pick up a cane which was standing in one corner.
She came back with it in her hand and Lalitha, who had bent down to pick up the dress, realised what her Step-mother was about to do.
She tried to avoid the blow but it was too late. It caught her across the shoulders and as she gave a piteous cry her Stepmother hit her again and again, forcing her down on her knees, raining blow upon blow upon her.
Lalitha was wearing a dress that had once belonged to Sophie. It was far too big for her, and when she had tried to alter it the only thing she could do was to lift it in the front so that it was decent but it still remained low at the back.
It had become even lower in the last week or so, as she had lost even more weight.
Now the cane was cutting into her bare flesh, drawing blood and re-opening wounds that remained from other beatings. “Damn you!” Lady Studley cursed. “I will teach you your rightful place in this house -hold! I will teach you to obey me!” After her first cry Lalitha said nothing.
The pain was so intense and the horror of what was happening, as it had done before, left her feeling as if she could not breathe.
She was almost fainting and yet the agony she was enduring prevented her from reaching unconsciousness.
Still the blows fell until as Lalitha felt a darkness sweeping over her mind, a darkness that seemed interspersed with red fire as each blow tortured her body, the door was suddenly flung open.
“Mama! Mama!”
Sophie’s voice was so imperative, so shrill, that Lady Studley’s arm was checked in mid-air.
“What do you think has happened?” Sophie asked.
“What is the matter? What have you heard?” Lady Studley asked.
Ignoring Lalitha’s body sprawling on the floor, Sophie held out to her mother the note which Lalitha had left on the landing.
“The Duke of Yelverton is dying!” she exclaimed. “Dying?” Lady Studley echoed. “How do you know?” “Someone has
written for Julius to explain that he has had to leave immediately for Hampshire and had no time to see me himself.”
“Let me look,” Lady Studley said, snatching the paper from her daughter’s hand.
She walked across the room to hold it near one of the candles on the dressing-table.
She read aloud:
“Mr. Julius Verton has asked me to convey to you, Madam, his most sincere regrets that he cannot present himself as he intended at your house this evening.
“He has been called to the bedside of his Uncle, His Grace the Duke of Yelverton, and has proceeded with all speed to Hampshire. It is regretfully expected that His Grace will not last the night.
I remain, Madam, yours most respectfully,
Christopher Dewar.”
“You see what it says, Mama? You see?” Sophie asked in a voice of triumph.
“Was there ever such a coil?” Lady Studley exclaimed. “And Lord Rothwyn will be waiting for you!” “Yes, I know,” Sophie replied, “but, Mama, I must be a Duchess!”
There was a cry in the words and Lady Studley answered soothingly:
“But of course you must! There is no question of your giving him up now.”
“I shall have to tell Lord Rothwyn that I cannot marry him,” Sophie said uncertainly, “and I know he will be angry.”
“It is his own fault!” Lady Studley snapped. “He should not have persuaded you to run away with him in the first place.”
“I cannot leave him waiting there,” Sophie remarked. Then she gave a sudden shrill cry.
“Mama!”
“What is it?” Lady Studley asked.
“My letter to Julius! I told Lalitha to send the groom with it!”
They both turned to look at Lalitha, who was raising herself painfully from the floor.
Her hair had come undone and was sprawling untidily over her bruised and bleeding shoulders.
Her face was ashen and her eyes were closed. “Lalitha!
What have you done with the note for Mr. Verton?” Lady Studley asked sharply.
There was a pause before Lalitha could answer, then it seemed as if she forced the words from between her lips as she replied:
“I gave it to the... groom and ... he has left!” “Left?” Sophie gave a shriek. “Someone must stop him!”
“It is all right,” Lady Studley said soothingly. “Julius will not be at his grandmother’s house as we expected.” “Why not?” Sophie asked.
“Because this note from Mr. Dewar, whoever he is, tells us that he has gone to Hampshire.”
Sophie gave a sigh of relief.
“Yes, of course.”
“What we must do,” Lady Studley went on, “is to drive to the Dowager’s house early tomorrow and collect your note. We can easily make the excuse that you have changed your mind about something you had said in it. Anyway you will be able to tear it up and forget that you ever wrote it.”
“You are clever, Mama!” Sophie exclaimed.
“If I were not, you would not be where you are today,” Lady Studley answered.
“And what about Lord Rothwyn?”
“Well, he must learn that you have changed your mind.” Lady Studley thought for a moment, then continued: “You will not, of course, give him the real reason. You must just say that you have thought it over and that you now think it would be wrong to break what is really your word of honour and you must therefore keep your promise to Julius Verton.”
“Yes, that sounds exactly the right thing to do,” Sophie agreed. “Shall I write to him?”
“I think that is best,” Lady Studley agreed.
Then she gave an exclamation.
“No! No! A note would be a mistake. Never put anything in writing! One can lie one’s way out of most difficult situations, but not if it is written down in black and white.”
“I am not going to speak to him,” Sophie said in sudden alarm.
“Why not?” her mother enquired.
“Because quite frankly, Mama, he rather frightens me. I do not wish to get into an argument with him! Besides, he is very over-bearing. He might extort the truth from me. I find it difficult as it is to answer some of his questions.”
“It does not seem to me that he was ever the right sort of husband for you,” Lady Studley said. “Well, if you will not
go, someone else will have to.”
“Not you, Mama!” Sophie said quickly. “I have said over and over again to him how much you would disapprove of my running away.”
She gave a little laugh.
“It made him all the keener.”
“I am sure it did,” Lady Studley agreed. “There is nothing like opposition to make a man aggressively masterful.”
“Then how shall we tell him?” Sophie asked.
“Lalitha will have to do it,” Lady Studley replied, “although God knows she will certainly make a mess of it.”
Lalitha was now on her feet and although a little unsteady, was moving towards the door with the lace dress in her hand. “Where are you going?” Lady Studley enquired. Lalitha did not answer but stood, hesitating, her eyes focused on her Step-mother.
The tears she had shed while she was being beaten had run down her face and her swollen eyes were still full of them.
She was so pale that Sophie said in an irritated way.
“You had better give her something to drink, Mama. She looks as if she is going to die!”
“And a good thing if she did!” Lady Studley retaliated.
“Well, keep her alive until she has told Lord Rothwyn my news,” Sophie remarked.
“She is nothing but a trouble and a nuisance!” Lady Studley said harshly.
She went to the washing-stand, on which stood a bottle of brandy from which she frequently imbibed.
She poured a little into a glass and held it out towards Lalitha. “Drink this!” she said, “although it is too good to waste on such a scarecrow!”
“I will...be all... right.”
“You will do as you are told without arguing about it,” Lady Studley snapped, “unless you want another beating!”
With difficulty, moving as if every step was an effort, Lalitha crossed the room and took the glass.
Because she knew that they were waiting for her to do so she drank down the brandy and felt it searing its way through her body.
Although she hated the taste of it she knew that it had brought her a new strength and dispersed the darkness that seemed to be still hovering just above her head.
“Now listen, Lalitha, and if you make a mistake over this I will beat you until you are insensible!” Lady Studley said vehemently.
“I am ... listening,” Lalitha murmured.
“You are to go to the Church of St. Alphage in the carriage which will be arriving at nine-thirty. You will find Lord Rothwyn there and you will explain to him that Sophie is too honourable, has too fine a nature, not to keep her word of honour. She has therefore decided that, rather than break Mr. Verton’s heart, she must marry him as arranged.”
Lady Studley paused to ask:
“Is that clear?”
“Yes,” Lalitha answered. “But please do . . . not make me... do it.” “I told you what would happen to you if you argue,” Lady Studley said menacingly.
She picked up the cane, which she had put down when she’d poured out the brandy.
“No, Mama!” Sophie said quickly. “If you hit Lalitha any more she will collapse and then she will be quite useless. I will talk to her. The carriage will not be here for another hour.”
“Very well,” Lady Studley said grudgingly, as if she regretted not being able to beat Lalitha again.
As they spoke they heard a knock on the door below. “That will be the carriage for me,” Lady Studley said. “Had I better go to Lady Corey’s as we had planned, or shall I stay at home, having heard the sad news of the Duke’s imminent death?”
Sophie considered for a moment. _
“I think actually, Mama, you should stay. If Julius learnt that you were at a party after he had written to me, he might think it unfeeling of you.”
“Of course, I should have thought of that,” Lady Studley agreed. “How stupid of me. I was still covering our tracks where Lord Rothwyn was concerned.”
She laughed.
“Oh well, I shall have to stay at home and spend a boring evening here. But at least it will give me a chance to make plans for the future! Oh, dearest, I have always longed to see you in a Ducal Coronet!”
“Thank God I knew in time,” Sophie said in heartfelt tones. “I would never have forgiven myself if I had gone away with Lord Rothwyn and then heard that Julius was a Duke.”
“We have had a lucky escape!” Lady Studley exclaimed.
She looked at her daughter and said:
“Take off that gown. You do not want to spoil it. It is one of
your best.”
“I will put on a dressing-gown,” Sophie said.
“Yes, do that,” Lady Studley agreed, “and take that scarecrow with you! Her death’s-head upsets me!” “Well, at least she makes herself useful,” Sophie answered. “There is no-one else we can send to Lord Rothwyn to tell him the bad news.”
“He will think it bad too,” Lady Studley chuckled. “If ever I saw a man who was infatuated, it is His Lordship.”
“He will get over it,” Sophie replied.
She walked from the room and Lalitha followed her. But Sophie reached the second floor some time before her halfsister could struggle up the stairs.
“Come on!” Sophie said impatiently when at last Lalitha entered the bed-room. “You know I cannot undo this gown myself.”
Lalitha put down the lace dress she was carrying, then she said:
“Sophie, do not . . . make me do this. I have a . . . feeling that His Lordship will be very . . . angry. Angrier even than ... your mother.”
“Why do you not call her ‘Mama’?” Sophie asked. “You have been told often enough.”
“I...I mean ... Mama.”
“I am not surprised that she gets into a rage with you,” Sophie said spitefully. “You are so stupid, Lalitha, and if Lord Rothwyn also gives you a beating, it is no more than you deserve!”
“I could not. . . stand any . . . more,” Lalitha whispered.
“You have said that before,” Sophie remarked.
She glanced at Lalitha’s face and said a little more gently: “Perhaps Mama was rather rough with you tonight. She is very strong and you are so thin, I wonder her cane does not break your bones!”
“They feel as if . . . they are . . . broken!” Lalitha said.
“They are not or you would not be able to walk,” Sophie remarked practically.
“No, I suppose . . . not,” Lalitha agreed, “but I. . . cannot face ... Lord Rothwyn and his ... anger.”
“You have never met him,” Sophie said, “so what do you know about his anger?”
Lalitha did not answer and she said more insistently: “Tell me. You know something, I can see that.”
“It is just a . . . book that I found here in the . . .
house. It is called Legends of the Famous Families of
England. ’’
“It sounds interesting,” Sophie said. “Why did you not show it to me?”
“You do not often read.” Lalitha answered, “and I was also... afraid it might... upset you.”