Love in High Places (10 page)

Giles Haversham whispered to Valentine as he handed her a cup of coffee,

“Don’t forget I want to talk to you! Perhaps later on... When we can get away from the others!”

CHAPTER NINE

By the time they had dined that night they were all less conscious of the many physical discomforts attached to accepting an invitation to stay in an unmodernised Austrian mountain
schloss.

Lou had grumbled a good deal while she was dressing for dinner, and the fire had once more threatened extinction, and Helga had only half filled her bath with hot water; but once she was dressed, and the Countess had admired her cream silk jersey dress that was caught in at the waist with a girdle of beaten silver, and the Baron had provided her with a well-mixed cocktail, she felt better
...
much better. She was even prepared to smile and chat with Germaine, who was every bit as golden as she was, although her wardrobe contained nothing that could do her justice, and like Valentine she was very simple in something quite unostentatious.

In Valentine’s case it was a little black dress
...
One of her own, bought in New York. But it suited her, and in between pouncing on Lou’s jewellery and admiring it the Countess admired her.

“You look nice, child. When I was young I wore a lot of black because it did such startling things to my hair.”

Her hair nowadays was white and piled on top of her head, and although her face was thin and wrinkled she used a lot of make-up, which lent her a slightly raddled appearance. She appeared to have a fondness for velvet, for at dinner she graced the bottom of the table in slightly dusty black velvet, and a necklace of splendid rubies rose and fell on her chest, and attracted all the rays of light in the room.

If the stones were genuine
—
and Valentine hadn’t a doubt they were
—
they must represent a considerable fortune in themselves.

Yet Alex was short of cash
...
His
schloss
wasn’t actually falling about his ears, but it was in a deplorably dilapidated condition, and examples of lovely period furniture were allowed to look like junk in a secondhand shop. A little money devoted to their restoration and they would grace any setting. The Maria-Theresa bureau, for instance, which was a treasure in itself.

After dinner the Countess settled down to a game of chess with Haversham, and the Baron and Lou disappeared and were later run to earth in a library full of crumbling volumes. It was Willi von Hochenberg who came upon them accidentally
—
the Count had arrived in time for tea
—
and while Haversham pitted his wits against the Countess and attempted to defeat every move she made with her ivory pieces he offered to show Valentine as much of the castle as was practicable at that late hour of the day, and the library was one of the rooms on the ground floor they visited first.

But the Count closed the door hastily almost as soon as he had opened it, and Valentine was surprised because he looked suddenly acutely uncomfortable. Then she thought she caught the sound of a light laugh which she recognised, and she understood the reason why her elderly escort was looking embarrassed.

“It will be better, perhaps, if we leave this room until the daylight,” he said quickly. “Then the colours of the bindings
...
You understand?” He coughed. “Worn, but some of them quite beautiful, and in daylight more easily appreciated.”

As the castle was without electric light there was nothing unreasonable about this suggestion, but it was the promptness of his reactions that Valentine appreciated, and the swiftness with which he got her away from the library corridor. He started to talk somewhat at random about a portrait in the banqueting hall which he thought she probably hadn’t noticed
—
and it obviously didn’t strike him that it was the wrong hour of the day to admire a portrait
—
and so determinedly did he grasp her arm and lead her away that Alex, bursting forth from the library with a controlled look of annoyance on his face, merely heard the sound of their retreating footsteps, and the Count’s eulogies concerning the artist who had reproduced one of his ancestors on canvas.

The Baron swore softly beneath his breath, and when Lou joined him and slid her arm through his he was not in any mood for gestures of the sort.

The Countess had fallen asleep in the main salon when Valentine and her escort returned to it, and Giles was thoughtfully smoking a cigarette and regarding the chess pieces. When the Count asked him politely if he had won he shook his head ruefully and admitted that his hostess had practically wiped him off the board.

“Ah, my friend, it is always so,” the Count assured him complacently. “The Countess never allows herself to be beaten, and that is a policy which governs all her affairs. A remarkable woman!” He shook his head in awed admiration. “I am proud to have known her so long!”

“She must be very fearless,” Giles remarked, gazing at the nodding white head of the diminutive old lady also in a kind of awe. “You have known her many years?”

“Many years,” the Count replied. “And I would not do battle with her under any circumstances. Once her mind is made up she always wins!”

“Poor Alex,” Valentine thought swiftly, involuntarily
—
and the pity was in spite of the embarrassment he had caused her a few minutes ago, “if she has made up her mind not to help him financially until she is dead then there is little he can do about it! Except marry Lou
!
”

The Count excused himself soon after that, and collected a candlestick from a great table in the hall, lighted it, and made his way up the shadowy staircase to his room in a distant wing. Valentine watched him go, and wondered how she and Lou were going to feel with nothing but the fitful beams of a candle to show them the immense proportions of their bedrooms. She also wondered whether she ought to wait for Lou, or whether she should precede her up the staircase and go to bed first, and she was still trying to make up her mind when Haversham invited her to have a look at the stars from the enormous window at the far end of the apartment.

“You’ll never again in the whole of your lifetime see stars as bright as they are to-night,” he said, as he caught her by the hand and led her down the length of the room. “There!” He drew aside the mouldering velvet curtains and indicated them. “Aren’t they wonderful
?
Something to remember when you get home to England!”

For an instant Valentine felt a chill, like a cold breath.
Get home to England!
...
But there was no home for her in England, and her heart would always be here in Austria. That was a dreadful thought
...
That when she left Austria she would be leaving a vital part of her behind! Here in this
schloss
a vital part of her would live on, because it was Alex’s
schloss
! And wherever Alex went
...
even once he was married to Lou!
...
he would carry something of her, Valentine, about with him. Something she had parted with unwillingly, but which she could never recover!

Haversham turned to her, as they stood in the denseness of the shadows, far removed from the branching candelabra and the fitful beams of the fire, and he spoke quietly.

“Valentine, I told you there was something you ought to know
...
Something that happened to me when I was in Vienna. Perhaps you can explain it?”

She gazed up at him curiously.

“You told me you’re an orphan
...
That’s true, isn’t it?”

“Quite true.”

“You also told me you’re without relatives
...
But that isn’t
strictly
true, is it
?
”

“What do you mean?” For an instant there was a cold note in her voice, and then he could tell he had shaken her.

“You have a grandfather, haven’t you
?
...
Alive!
He’s a tall old gentleman, with very white hair and bristling moustachios, and
your
eyes! As soon as I looked into them I thought of you! I couldn’t have done anything else!”

“Where did you meet him
?
” she asked, and although her voice was no longer cold she sounded unusually stiff.

“I told you, in Vienna. He was staying at the same hotel as I was
—
an old-fashioned family hotel with a lot of plush and mirrors; the sort of place his kind patronised years ago, and will continue to patronise
—
and he was introduced to me by the business acquaintance I went there to meet. Actually, it’s the chap who’s undertaking the translation of some of my books, and he’s also interested in military history. Your grandfather, General Fabian, is an expert on certain phases of the last two wars.”

Valentine looked down at her hands.

“Well?”

“Quite apart from that he’s a very rich man, head of a shipping line
...
the Fabian Line. Yet his granddaughter is forced to accept a job that isn’t merely beneath her; it’s a detestable sort of job when one is forced to be a looker-on and see how constantly and casually she’s made use of!” he concluded softly.

Valentine made an impatient movement with her head, but her hands were clasped tightly together, and the nails dug into the soft palms.

“I wish you wouldn’t talk of my job as beneath me,” she said quickly, and in a very low tone as if she were afraid of awakening the Countess, and even more afraid that she would overhear any part of their conversation. “It’s a job that suits me, and I’m grateful for it. It has provided me with a beautiful obscurity that I needed
—
badly!
—
a few months ago.”

“But your grandfather...” he persisted.

“I don’t want to talk about my grandfather,” she said agitatedly.

“Then you’re not denying that General Fabian
is
your grandfather
?
”

She put back her head and looked up at him with extraordinarily luminous, and slightly defiant, eyes.

“No. Why should I
?
My mother was his daughter, and I’m the only daughter of my mother
...
her only child. But my father and I
...”
Then she broke off. “But how, if you only discussed war history with General Fabian, did you find out that he was a relative of mine
?
You couldn’t have deduced all that simply because his eyes are the same colour as mine, and I’m a bit like him
...
Which, incidentally, I deny! I’m a Pelham-Brown,” she said on an odd note of obstinacy, and she seemed to draw her slight figure up rather proudly.

“Yet you allow yourself to be known as plain Miss Brown,” Haversham said, shaking his head at her disapprovingly. Yet his grey eyes were gentle and full of sympathy for the stubborn burdens she carried on her shoulders
...
largely, he began to suspect, because it had been the wish of her father. “I’ll tell you the truth, Valentine,” he said. “And although it may sound unbelievable, it is the truth. Your grandfather and I discussed other subjects apart from war history
—
we had a long and mutually agreeable talk which went on into the small hours of the morning. And in the course of conversation I mentioned the part of England where I live, and where your grandfather once lived, also. Quite casually he let drop the name of his wife, Valentine. She’s been dead for years, but she was very fond of the river, and his daughter
—
another Valentine
—
was married in a little period gem of a church between Henley and Oxford!”

Once again Valentine said, “Well?” But this time her voice was definitely husky.

Haversham spoke with great gentleness.

“I asked him if his daughter became Lady Pelham
-
Brown, and then, I’m afraid, I heard the full story. It seems that there was a great deal of bitterness between your father and your grandfather
...
”

Valentine nodded her head, dumbly.

“And it didn’t improve as time went on. Your father was a great
—
spender
...
But unfortunately he didn’t believe in doing anything to earn money! He wouldn’t even consider a comfortably cushioned job such as your grandfather could have found for him, and it was your mother’s money that provided all the luxuries. When she died
—
the money died with her.”

“I know,” Valentine said, as if the whole subject were hateful to her.

“But
you
need never have gone without, Valentine
...”
Haversham emphasised. “General Fabian would have provided you with all that you needed
—
and more!
—
but your pride got in the way, and you wouldn’t let him do a thing! You ran out on him, hid yourself
—
or tried to hide yourself
—
and your identity, and that’s why you’re where you are at this minute
...
looking after someone like Lou Morgan. Who provides you with her cast-offs!”

Valentine bit so hard at her lower lip that a trickle of blood started.