Dorothy Eden (15 page)

‘In contrast, all this comfort must seem very pleasant.’

He behaved as if he heard no significance in her voice.

‘Pleasant but a little monotonous. A sailor’s life is a man’s life. If you’re wondering what I’m doing here it is, as I’ve already made it clear to everyone, for my son. And my wife.’ There was a slight but noticeable pause between the mention of his son and his wife.

‘Your wife doesn’t hanker for the life of the tropics?’

‘There are different kinds of life in the tropics. My wife wasn’t married to the Governor, you understand. She at least deserves this comfort now. And the boy. By the way, is Titus all right while you’re away?’

‘Perfectly all right, as I imagine he was before I came into his life.’

‘He wasn’t as well as all that, Miss Mildmay. You mentioned it yourself in no uncertain terms. But I believe he’s growing fond of you now.’

Sarah remembered, with a pang, the little boy’s clinging arms.

‘You particularly said that I was not to spoil him, Lord Mallow.’

‘And, by God, you shall not! There, does that feel better?’

Reluctantly Sarah had to admit that it did.

‘Then drink up your rum, and we’ll have some food.’

Lucy had lit candles on the table. The crocus flames flickered bewilderingly. Sarah felt her face very hot. She
must
go on hating this man. For his present intimate attitude was merely a pose to discover her own game. She must not be taken in for a moment. Neither must she drink any more intoxicating liquor since she was forced to take only gruel as food.

‘You accomplished your own business satisfactorily, I hope?’ she said politely.

‘No. As it happens, I haven’t. The person I was to see has let me down. I shall wait only one more day, and then they can go to the devil.’

His glance was completely without evasion.

‘We shall probably travel back to Mallow together. You’ll have to tolerate my company since you’ll need assistance with that foot.’

A convenient way of keeping her under his eye? If so, she deserved it. At least it seemed she was not to be dismissed.

But sitting up at the table facing him over the yellow candlelight was an ordeal, and even more so confining herself to the thin gruel while he ate with the greatest enjoyment the tantalisingly savoury venison. She made herself wince now and then. This subtlety was almost overplaying her part, for Blane, with one of his acute glances, observed,

‘I believe that dentist of yours hasn’t done his job very well. You’d better see mine tomorrow.’

‘Oh, no! I shall be quite recovered tomorrow.’

‘I hope so. I fear Titus would be upset at your continued absence.’

The remark could be interpreted in two ways. Either that he believed now in her innocent presence here. Or that he disbelieved the whole story, but refrained from dismissing her because of the pain it would cause Titus. Although one would hardly have thought he had that much heart.

He had opened a bottle of Burgundy to drink with the meal The meagre half glass Sarah permitted herself increased her feeling of unreality. The face opposite her, she thought, fitted these surroundings after all. With its strong lines, its boldness, even the memory of its black anger, it was eminently suitable. This was something she must not write in her notes for Ambrose. It was a discovery she had stumbled on and must forget. Indeed, it was only an illusion. Tomorrow she would see the face for what it was, greedy, selfish and ruthless.

‘So unless I carry you upstairs, Miss Mildmay, it will be you for the couch tonight.’

Sarah started as the words penetrated her dulled mind. Blane had definitely drunk too much now. His eyes glinted with a wicked merriment.

The couch! How was he aware that she had known about that night in Tom Mercer’s inn?

‘And your reason is as legitimate as mine was,’ he added smoothly.

‘I—I was looking for the kitchen. For milk for Titus. I didn’t mean—I thought you were asleep.’

‘And I thought you were snooping. You’re much too attractive for that, Miss Mildmay. You’re exceedingly attractive, do you realise? Wearing the Mallow diamonds, for instance…’

Sarah could scarcely speak. Did he
know
?

‘What an extraordinary thing to say, Lord Mallow!’

‘Merely a fancy. My wife intends to wear them any day now. She’s asked me to get them out of the bank. I’m not entirely sure she has quite the type of looks for them. My own opinion is that she requires more colour in her jewels.’

‘Lord Mallow, I must demand to know why you said such an extraordinary thing to me.’

He looked at her above the dancing candle flames.

‘Just a passing thought, Miss Mildmay. Nothing more, I assure you. Your eyes are as bright as diamonds tonight. Perhaps it’s the wine.’ He sat back and his voice changed from its lazy quality to curtness. ‘You will go back to Mallow, Miss Mildmay. I accept your story that you had severe toothache and that exhaustion after a long painful day caused you to be rather clumsy in climbing the stairs. The outcome of that mishap is going to be of much more inconvenience to yourself than anyone else. So we’ll close the subject.’

‘Lord Mallow, are you suggesting that you might
doubt
my reason for being here?’

His eyes narrowed. For a moment his expression was unreadable. Then he threw back his head and gave his disconcerting shout of laughter.

‘Never trust a pretty woman. I believe my wife was right when she wanted to send you packing. But you’ll go back to Mallow because Titus has grown fond of you.’

I
T SEEMED TO GROW
dark earlier every afternoon. The snow that fell over London did not touch the coast, although heavy clouds and an arctic wind persisted until late the following day. No one knew why Miss Mildmay had not returned as she had promised to. Soames had driven the ten miles to the station only to return reporting that no one at all had got off the train. Amalie had not expected Blane back so soon, but she was furious about Miss Mildmay’s failure to return.

She had not a tea party to divert her today, and wandered about the house in what seemed to be a state of acute nervousness. Yesterday she had been the grand lady, dressed in her expensive plum-coloured taffeta, with skirts so exaggeratedly wide that her tiny waist looked like a child’s, and diamond eardrops glittering in her ears.

It had been difficult to know what the Blounts and the Fortescues made of such elegance. They had not been used to it at Mallow Hall, Lady Malvina reflected. Her own parties had been haphazard affairs when she was never sure whether or not her husband would remember to be home, or, if he were, whether he would be polite to his guests. And her own appearance had got shabby and old-fashioned, especially since she had been reduced to pawning her jewellery.

She didn’t much relish Amalie, that little nobody from the tropics, queening it like this, but it was the inevitable penalty one had to pay for having one’s son home again.

At least Lady Malvina was, for a few minutes, able to hold the floor when Amalie was called from the room to see some unexpected and uninvited visitor. Neither did she lose this advantage for when Amalie returned she seemed vague and distrait, and had lost her assurance as an accomplished hostess.

‘Just a sewing woman asking for work,’ she apologised vaguely; ‘The matter could very well have waited. Some more tea, Colonel Fortescue? Oh, I see you have some. Mrs Blount?’

‘Did you employ her?’ Lady Malvina asked.

‘I’ve asked her to wait. I’ll interview her later. Oh, dear!’ Amalie had knocked one of the fragile cups on to the carpet, spilling tea. ‘How clumsy of me! Mamma, ring for Betsey, please!’

Lady Malvina tugged the bell rope. She looked at her daughter-in-law in surprise. Amalie, for all her look of being strung-up, had usually the most calm and controlled movements.

‘On your gown, too. Never mind, if it stains this new woman can take a tuck in the skirt. There’s plenty of material. When are you going to have Titus in?’ Lady Malvina turned to the company. ‘You must all see my grandson, and how the family likeness persists. It’s quite remarkable. If anything convinced me I had my son home, that did.’

Colonel Fortescue lifted his head and remarked irrelevantly,

‘I hear Ambrose sailed for the West Indies. Is there any particular reason? Unless of course,’ he added gallantly, ‘he’s looking for another such charming lady as Lady Mallow.’

Amalie’s knuckles showed white where she gripped the tea table. Then, with a recovery of self-possession that even Lady Malvina had to admire, she said calmly, ‘I’ve scarcely had the opportunity to get acquainted with Ambrose. Understandably he wasn’t over-anxious to be friends. But my husband and I hope to remedy that when he returns to England. Don’t we, Mamma?’

‘You can try,’ said Lady Malvina frankly. ‘Ambrose isn’t a good loser. And what is he doing in the West Indies?’

‘A sea voyage is a wonderful antidote for various ills,’ said Mrs Blount. For all her frumpy countrified appearance she had exquisite tact. ‘I remember when Mr Blount had the gout so badly. We took a cruise to the Mediterranean. So relaxing. Flora dear, we must think of leaving. I shouldn’t be surprised if it snows this evening.’

All the company proceeded to take its departure, and when at last they were alone Amalie flung round on Lady Malvina.

‘Did you hear that? Ambrose has gone to the West Indies! Why has he? What does he expect to find?’

Lady Malvina’s heart was fluttering again with that queer unspoken apprehension.

‘That would be for you to know, my dear.’

The lids dropped over Amalie’s uneasy eyes. Too late, she was hiding her own apprehension.

‘There’s nothing to find beyond what has already been aired in court. Blane will tell you so. Ambrose is wasting his time. But I wish he didn’t distrust us so. We should all be friends. Well, I suppose I must go and interview this wretched woman.’

‘Wretched?’

‘Oh, she looks half-starved, poor creature. I expect I must at least give her a trial, since she’s come so far.’

But Amalie was not a person to show pity, Lady Malvina had discovered. Was there something particularly pathetic about this waif and stray? Something disturbing enough to make Amalie drop cups and lose her self-control?

Distinctly uneasy herself, especially when she thought of that poky-nosed Ambrose up to such an extraordinary thing, Lady Malvina spent the next hour with Titus who seemed to be missing Miss Mildmay more than was reasonable. Then Amalie came in to give her brisk orders and say goodnight to Titus.

‘Is he all right, Eliza? Are you managing quite well?’

‘Yes, ma’am. I’m to sleep in the nursery, Miss Mildmay said.’

‘Did she? I’m afraid I disagree with that. Titus isn’t to be treated like a baby. He’s a big boy. Aren’t you, my lamb? You will sleep in your own room as usual, Eliza.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘If the boy calls—’ began Lady Malvina, distressed by the look of alarm on Titus’s face. Heaven knew, she wanted her grandson to grow strong and fearless, but this, as Miss Mildmay realised, could not be achieved overnight.

‘Why should he call?’ said Amalie coldly. She bent to kiss her son’s forehead. ‘Papa would be very angry, Titus, if you weren’t a brave boy. You may have a night light, if you wish, but you must learn to sleep alone.’

She was rustling out in her imperious way before Lady Malvina remembered about the sewing woman.

‘Oh, yes, I engaged her on a week’s trial,’ she answered indifferently to Lady Malvina’s question. ‘I’ve put her in the room upstairs.’

‘Not Bella’s room! Not the hau—’ Lady Malvina, belatedly chinking of the child, bit off her words.

‘Don’t be absurd, Mamma. Of course the room isn’t haunted. In any case it’s the only empty one, and if she doesn’t like it she can go. But if she’s to stay she must be kept busy. So give her any sewing you have. I won’t be down to dinner, Mamma, if you don’t mind. I have a headache and shall go to bed early.’

‘Are you expecting Blane back tomorrow?’

‘If he has his business finished. I hope so.’ For a moment the petulant worried look in Amalie’s face gave way to one of longing. But that, too, was quickly hidden, and she said, ‘I’m not used enough to making all the decisions, even about sewing women. If Blane thinks Mrs Stone an extravagance she must

Mrs Stone seemed harmless enough. Lady Malvina, who was no less inquisitive, than her nephew Ambrose, made a point of visiting her in the attic room which, apart from its unfortunate history, really was perfectly comfortable. The woman was below middle-age, probably not much older than Amalie, but she was very poorly dressed and seemed pinched and yellow with cold. She spoke well enough, although with a slight furtiveness that Lady Malvina didn’t care for. She was surprised at Amalie being moved by the troubles of such an insignificant creature.

‘What brought you to Mallow, Mrs Stone?’

‘I’d heard there was a new mistress, ma’am. I thought she might be needing help. Good situations are hard to come by nowadays.

‘Where’s your husband?’

‘I’m a widow, my lady.’

‘Oh! Well, that’s a pity, I suppose.’ Lady Malvina’s glance took leave to doubt the late Mr Stone’s ability as a provider. ‘Any family?’

Mrs Stone shook her head.

‘That’s something to be thankful for, eh?, Well, I hope you’ll be comfortable here. I’ll find you plenty of work to do. Can you unpick and put together again?’

‘Unpick?’ The woman’s pale eyes seemed to be gleaming with some kind of amusement. She behaved as if she were about to burst into laughter. ‘Oh, yes, I can unpick very well, my lady.’

Simple in the head, thought Lady Malvina. Better keep Titus away from her. What had come over Amalie employing such a person? It couldn’t have been her kind heart.

‘I’ve been putting on some weight. My gowns need easing. None of this tight lacing for me. I’ll’ send some up. Well, goodnight, Mrs Stone.’

‘Goodnight, my lady.’

The meek voice still held that queer note of suppressed laughter.

The next day, when neither Blane nor Miss Mildmay turned up, seemed very long and full of tension. For Titus had lost his new confidence and had reverted to his pale-faced timidity, shrinking away from Lady Malvina’s boisterous embraces and on the verge of tears. And Amalie couldn’t sit still a minute, but walked up and down in her rustling gown dressed as if for another tea party. She was very pale and confessed that her headache still troubled her. She had dressed well, either because she expected her husband at any moment or because the expensive clothes gave her confidence. But something was on her mind. She was worrying about Blane’s mysterious business in London. And she was very angry with Miss Mildmay for overstaying in London.