Curse of the Kings (2 page)

Read Curse of the Kings Online

Authors: Victoria Holt

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #History, #General, #Gothic, #Romantic Suspense Novels, #Love stories, #paperback, #BCE, #hardcover, #Fiction - Romance, #Adult, #Mystery, #Man-woman relationships, #Romance - Historical, #british literature, #sassy, #TBR, #England, #Historical Romance, #german fiction, #Romance & Sagas, #Single Women, #Victoria Holt, #Romance: Historical, #xlibrary, #Archaeologists, #Archeologists, #danish, #American, #British, #bg to sh, #importeret, #british fiction, #archaeology

BOOK: Curse of the Kings
11.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I found Sir Ralph, our Squire, fascinating. I was excited when he passed on the road either in his carriage or on one of his thoroughbreds. I would bob a little curtsys taught by Dorcasnd he would nod and raise a hand in a quick imperious kind of gesture and for a moment those heavy lidded eyes would be on me. Some had said of hims long ago someone had said of Julius CaesarHide your daughters when he passes by.Well, he was the Caesar of our village. He owned most of it; the outlying farmlands were on his estate; to those who worked with him he was said to be a good master, and as long as the men touched their forelocks with due respect and remembered he was the master and the girls did not deny him those favors which he desired, he was a good master, which meant that men were assured of work and a roof over their heads and any results which might ensue from his dallying with the maidens were taken care of. There were plenty of esultsin the village now and they were always granted the extra privileges over those who had been sired elsewhere.

But to Mr. Pegger the Squire was Sin personified.

Out of respect for my youth he could not talk of our Squire major qualification for hell fire, so he gave himself the pleasure of touching on his smaller onesll of which, in Mr. Pegger opinion, would have ensured his entry.

There were houseparties at Keverall Court almost every weekend; in the various seasons the guests came to hunt foxes, otters, and stags, or to shoot pheasants which were bred on the Keverall estate for this purpose, or merely to make merry in the baronial hall. They were rich, elegantoften noisyeople from Plymouth and sometimes as far as London. I always enjoyed seeing them. They brightened the countryside, but in Mr. Pegger estimation they desecrated it.

I considered myself very lucky to visit Keverall Court every day except Saturday and Sunday. This had been a special concession because the Squire daughter and nephew had a governess and were also taught by Oliver Shrimpton, our curate. The rather impecunious rector could not afford a governess for me, and Sir Ralph had graciously given his consentr perhaps had raised no objection to the proposalhat I should join his daughter and nephew in their schoolroom and profit from the instruction given there. This meant that every dayxcept Saturdays and Sundays passed under the old portcullis into the courtyard, gave an ecstatic sniff at the stables, touched the mounting block for luck, entered the great hall with its minstrelsgallery, mounted the wide staircase as though I were one of the lady visitors from London, with a flowing train and diamonds glittering on my fingers, passed along the gallery where all the deadnd some livingodreans looked down on me with varying expressions of scorn, amusement, or indifference and into the schoolroom where Theodosia and Hadrian would be already seated and Miss Graham the governess would be busy at her books.

Life had certainly become more interesting since it had been decided that I share lessons with the Bodreans.

On this July afternoon I was interested to learn that the Squire current sin was, as Mr. Pegger said, utting in his nose where God hadn intended it should go.

nd where is that, Mr. Pegger?

n Carter Meadow, that where. He wants to set up digging there. Disturbing God earth. It all along of these people whoe been coming here. Filling the place with heathen ideas.

hat are they going to dig for, Mr. Pegger?I asked.

or worms I reckon.That was meant to be a joke for Mr. Pegger face creased into what did service for a smile.

o theye all coming down to dig, are they?I pictured themadies in silks and velvets, gentlemen in white cravats and velvet smoking jackets all with their little spades in Carter Meadow.

Mr. Pegger brushed the pasty crumbs from his coat and tied the bottle back into the red handkerchief.

t digging up the past, they saying. They reckon they going to find bits and pieces left behind by them as lived here years and years ago.

hat here, Mr. Pegger?

ere in St. Erno. A lot of heathens they were, so why any God-fearing gentleman should bother himself with them is past my understanding.

erhaps theye not God-fearing, Mr. Pegger; but it all very respectable. It called archaeology.

hat it called makes no difference. If God had intended m to find these things He wouldn have covered m up with his good earth.

erhaps it wasn God who covered them up.

hen who?

ime,I said portentously.

He shook his head and started to dig again, throwing the soil up onto the bank he had made.

quire were always one for taking up with these fancies. I don like this one. Let the dead bury their dead, I say.

believe someone else said that some time ago, Mr. Pegger. Well, I think it would be interesting if we found something very important here in St. Erno. Roman remains perhaps. We be famous.

e weren meant to be famous, Miss Judith. We were meant to be

od-fearing,I supplied for him. o the Squire and his friends are looking for Roman remains close by. And it not a sudden fancy of his. He always been interested. Famous archaeologists often come to stay at Keverall Court. Perhaps that why his nephew is named Hadrian.

adrian!thundered Mr. Pegger. t a heathen name. And the young lady too.

adrian and Theodosia.

hey not good Christian names.

ot like your Matthew Mark Luke John Isaac Reuben and the rest. Judith is in the Bible. So I all right.

I fell to thinking of names. orcas! Alison!I said. id you know, Mr. Pegger, that Theodosia means divinely given? So you see it is a Christian name. As for Hadrian, he named after a wall and a Roman Emperor.

heye not good Christian names,he repeated.

avinia,I said. wonder what that means.

h. Miss Lavinia,said Mr. Pegger.

t was very sad, wasn it, to die so young?

ith all her sins upon her.

don think she had many. Alison and Dorcas speak of her as though they loved her dearly.

There was a picture of Lavinia hanging in the rectory on the landing just at the top of the first flight of stairs. I used to be afraid to pass it after dark because I imagined that at night Lavinia stepped out of it and walked about the house. I used to think that one day I would pass it and find the frame empty because she had failed to get back into it in time.

I was such a fanciful child, said Dorcas, who was very practical herself and could not understand my strange imaginings.

very mortal man has sins,declared Mr. Pegger. s for women they can have ten times as many.

ot Lavinia,I said.

He leaned on his spade and scratched his white mane of hair. avinia! She were the prettiest of the rectory girls.

Well, I thought, that might not have meant a great deal if I was not so familiar with Lavinia picture, for neither Alison nor Dorcas were exactly beauties. They always wore somber-colored skirts and jackets, and thick strong bootso sensible for the country. Yet in the picture Lavinia had a velvet jacket and a hat with a curling feather.

t was a pity she was ever on that train.

n one moment she had no idea what was about to happen and the next she was facing her Maker.

o you think it as quick as that, Mr. Pegger? After all she would have to get there

aken in sin, you might say, with no time for repentance.

o one would be hard on Lavinia.

Pegger was not so sure. He shook his head. he could have her flighty ways.

orcas and Alison loved her, and so did the reverend. I can tell by the way they look when they say her name.

Mr. Pegger had put down his spade to mop his brow once more. his be one of the hottest days the Lord have sent us this year.He stepped out of the hole and sat down on the curb of the next grave so that he and I were facing each other over the yawning hole. I stood up and peered down into it. Poor Josiah Polgrey who beat his wife and had his children out working on the farm at five years old. On impulse I jumped down into the hole.

hat be doing, Miss Judith?demanded Mr. Pegger.

just want to see what it feels like to be down here,I said.

I reached up for his spade and started to dig.

t smells damp,I said.

fine muss youl be getting yourself in.

already in it,I cried, as my shoes slipped down into the loose earth. It was a horrible feeling of being shut in with the walls of the trench so close to me. t must be terrible, Mr. Pegger, to be buried alive.

ow you come out of there.

l dig just a bit while I here,I said, o see what it feels like to be a gravedigger.

I dug the spade into the earth and threw out what it had picked up as I had seen Mr. Pegger do. I repeated the operation several times before my spade struck something hard.

here something here,I called.

ou come out of there, Miss Judith.

I ignored him and went on probing. Then I had it. e found something, Mr. Pegger,I cried. I stooped and picked up the object. hat is it, do you know?

Mr. Pegger stood up and took it from me. iece of old metal,he said. I gave him my hand and he pulled me out of Josiah Polgrey grave.

don know,I said. here something about it.

irty old thing,said Mr. Pegger.

ut look at it, Mr. Pegger. Just what is it? There a sort of engraving on it.

throw that away sharp about it,said Mr. Pegger.

But I would do no such thing, I decided. I would take it back with me and clean it. I rather liked it.

Mr. Pegger took up his spade and continued to dig while I tried to wipe the earth from my shoes and noticed with dismay that the hem of my skirt was decidedly grubby.

I talked for a while with Mr. Pegger, then I went back to the rectory carrying the piece of what appeared to be bronze with me. It was oval shaped and about six inches in diameter. I wondered what it would be like when it was cleaned and what I would use it for. I didn give much thought to it, because talking about Lavinia had made me think about her and what a sad house it must have been when the news was brought that Lavinia, beloved daughter of the Reverend James Osmond and sister of Alison and Dorcas, had been killed in the train which was traveling from Plymouth to London.

he was killed outright,Dorcas had told me as we stood at her grave while she pruned the roses growing there. t was a mercy in a way for she would have been an invalid for the rest of her life had she lived. She was twenty-one years old. It was a great tragedy.

hy was she going to live in London, Dorcas?I had asked.

he was going to take up a post.

hat sort of post?

h governess, I think.

ou think! Weren you sure?

he had been staying with a distant cousin.

hat cousin was that?

h dear, what a probing child you are! She was a very distant cousin. We never hear of her now. Lavinia had been staying with her so she took the train from Plymouth and then there was this terrible accident. Many people were killed. It was one of the worst accidents in living memory. We were heartbroken.

hat was when you decided to take me in and bring me up to take Lavinia place.

obody could take Lavinia place, dear. You have a place of your own.

ut it not Lavinia. I not a bit like her, am I?

ot in the least.

he was quiet, I suppose, and gentle; and she didn talk too much, probe or be impulsive or try to order people about all the things that I do.

o, she was not like you, Judith. But she could be very firm on occasions, although she was so gentle.

o then because she was dead and I was an orphan you decided to take me in. I was related to you.

sort of cousin.

distant one, I suppose. All your cousins seem to be so distant.

ell, we knew that you were an orphan and we were so distressed. We thought it would help us all and you too of course.

o I came here and it was all because of Lavinia.

So considering all this I felt that Lavinia had had a marked effect on my life; and I fell to wondering what would have happened to me if Lavinia had not decided to take that particular train to London.

It was cool in the stone hall of the old rectory, cool and dark. On the hall table stood a great bowl of buddleia, lavender, and roses. Some of the rose petals had already fallen onto the stone flags of the hall floor. The rectory was an old house, almost as old as Keverall Court. Built in the early days of Elizabeth reign it had been the residence of rectors over the last three hundred years. Their names were inscribed on a tablet in the church. The rooms were large and some beautifully paneled but dark because of the small windows with their leaded panes. There was an air of great quietness brooding over the house and it was particularly noticeable on this hot day.

I went up the staircase to my room; and the first thing I did was wash the soil from the ornament. I had poured water from the ewer into the basin and was dabbing it with cotton wool when there was a knock on the door.

ome in,I called. Dorcas and Alison were standing there. They looked so solemn that I completely forgot the ornament and cried out: s anything wrong?

e heard you come in,said Alison.

h dear, did I make a lot of noise?

They looked at each other and exchanged smiles.

e were listening for you,said Dorcas.

There was silence. This was unusual. omething is wrong,I insisted.

o, dear, nothing has changed. We have been making up our minds to speak to you for some time; and as it is your birthday and fourteen is a sort of milestone we thought the time had come.

t is all rather mysterious,I said.

Alison drew a deep breath and said: ell, Judith Dorcas nodded to her to proceed. ell, Judith, you have always been under the impression that you were the daughter of a cousin of ours.

es, a distant one,I said.

his is not the case.

I looked from one to the other. hen who am I?

oue our adopted daughter.

es, I know that, but if my parents are not the distant cousins, who are they?

Neither of them spoke, and I cried out impatiently: ou said you came to tell me.

Alison cleared her throat. ou were on the train the same train as Lavinia.

n the accident?

Other books

Soft Shock by Green, Nicole
Dead Even by Mariah Stewart
Witness by Magee, Jamie
Lark by Cope, Erica
Distractions by Brooks, J. L.
The Rose Bride by Nancy Holder
Muerte de tinta by Cornelia Funke
The Bloody Border by J. T. Edson