Mally : Signet Regency Romance (9781101568057) (7 page)

“I wear it tonight because Chris likes it, Mother.”

“Then you may for once please both your inner self and Sir Christopher, may you not?”

Mally looked down at her in surprise, for it was hardly ever that such perception came from her mother—

A few minutes later, with her shawl wrapped around her against the chill of the night, she climbed into the carriage which was to take her to her second meeting with Richard Vallender.
And let it please prove useful. In some way or other.

Chapter 10

After dinner the four retired to the splendid drawing room of the house in Pendleton Square, with Mally hoping the after-dinner conversation would prove fruitful. The perfume of sandalwood hung in the warm air from the potpourri jars set by the fire, and it was a perfume which went well with the Eastern furnishings of the room. The alcoves by the marble fireplace were filled with tall dark cupboards covered with wonderful carvings of weird creatures and plants and strange shapes which defied description. On either side of the windows stood ebony elephants with sharp tusks which threatened to tear the clothes of anyone unwary enough to pass too close, and the curtains hanging at the windows were woven with unusual birds and flowers. The tables were low, of beaten or carved brass, and seemed as if waiting for cushions to be set beside them— The chairs and sofas themselves were woven with Indian patterns, gold threads glinting among the bright reds and blues.

But it was the new addition to the room which immediately caught Mally's eye. It was a black statue of a goddess—or was it a god—her hollow eyes staring horribly across the room, as if seeing all. Her hands were clasped before her as if in prayer, but the fingers were long and crooked, for all the world like hooks or claws, and her body was misshapen and grotesque. She stood beneath a cloth-of-gold canopy, and Mally did not like the atmosphere she created.

“Oh, Chris, what is that horrible thing?”

“That, Mally, is the goddess Deyna. She Who Sees All.”

“Well named, somehow,” remarked Richard, lounging back on a sofa. His dark purple coat looked almost black in the dim light cast by the candles. “Ye gods, Chris, when are the turban-headed acrobats to come in? I remember your partiality for things Eastern, but this somehow comes as a surprise.”

Annabel looked at the goddess again. “Where did you get her? I haven't seen her before.”

Mally glanced at her. Was that a subtle reminder that she, Annabel Murchison, had once been a frequent visitor to this house? For once Annabel had chosen not to wear green. She was a picture in rose pink, her golden hair worn
à la Madonna
with a center parting and flowing loose curls on the crown of her head. A diamond necklace winked and flashed at her throat, drawing attention to the daring
décolletage
of the satin gown, although such an eye-catching piece was hardly necessary with so brief a garment, thought Mally uncharitably. She felt almost prudish in the blue Italian silk.

Chris looked at the statue. “It came yesterday, a gift from my brother Henry. He had it shipped from India.”

Annabel shuddered. “Remind me to kick his ankle the next time I dance with him. Why such a revolting object for this beautiful room? Just as revolting as that dreadful snake basket you keep over there. Each time I see it I am convinced that it is still occupied.”

Chris smiled, bowing over her hand, his slender body made more slender by the black velvet he wore. “I assure you, dearest Annabel, that the basket is quite, quite empty.”

“Gott sei Dank,”
murmured Richard. “Mrs. St. Aubrey, in view of the strange and somewhat disturbing tastes of your prospective husband, perhaps you would like to reconsider the marriage, for the Lord knows what
else
his tastes run to.”

She smiled. “Ah, but I am perhaps attracted by such anticipation, Mr. Vallender.”

“You shock me, madam.” He pretended astonishment.

“I doubt that, Mr. Vallender.” She looked at him again. Was it possible that he knew something about Maria?

But Chris was speaking of the statue again. “Of course, Annabel, you realize
why
you feel so uncomfortable before the goddess? It is because she sees all and knows all.” He glanced at Richard and winked.

“So does my chaperone,” laughed Annabel, but she did look at the goddess's hollow eyes uncomfortably once more.

Chris took her hand again. “Come and stand before her, if you dare reveal your innermost self to her.”

Mally looked suspiciously at him. “Chris, is this a trick?”

His eyes were innocent. “Trick? Me?”

“Yes. You.” She turned toward Richard quickly as she heard his smothered laugh.

Annabel heard it too. “Oh, so you think I shall be tricked, do you? Very well, Chris, show me the wonders of this horrible thing in the corner.”

“Annabel—” Mally put out her hand, but Richard caught it and pulled it back, his eyes shining.

“Let us see,” he whispered.

Annabel glanced back. “Come on, you two, it's not fair that I should be the only one.”

Richard stood, holding his hand out to Mally. “Come,
I
will protect you from She Who Sees All.”

“I am not reassured by that somehow.”

“Now I am devastated. How could you be so cruel to me?”

“Instinct.”

He smiled, leading her purposefully toward the corner where Chris and Annabel stood waiting.

It was dark, their shadows falling over the black statue, and being close to Deyna seemed more menacing and unearthly. And Chris's voice matched the atmosphere, being low and hypnotic.

“Deyna, She Who Sees All, goddess of life and death, guardian of the entrance to paradise or the gateway into perdition. When you stand before her you are judged, for her eye will fall upon you.” He drew Annabel even closer. “There,” he whispered, “look into her eyes and let her see the truth—”

Mally's hand tightened in Richard's as she watched Annabel lean toward the statue. She was so intent upon Annabel and Chris that she did not notice Richard's arm around her waist in the darkness of the corner, and neither did she notice Chris touch something at the base of the statue with his foot.

As Annabel looked deep into Deyna's hollow eyes they suddenly shone with vivid green light. She squealed and leaped back, while Chris began to laugh. Mally shrank against Richard instinctively as the horrible glowing eyes seemed to grow in the darkness.

Annabel glared at Chris. “You beast!”

“Oh, I could not resist it, for you were so perfect!”

“You are still a beast!”

Richard took his arm away from Mally's waist. “Would that my good friend had many more such diversions, for I thoroughly enjoy comforting you.”

She smiled. “I had not even noticed, Mr. Vallender.”

“Ah, me, demolished again.”

Chris put his arm lightly around Annabel's shoulder. “Forgive me, Annabel. I did not mean to frighten you, but I just could not resist it.”

“If I have a single gray hair in the morning, I shall sue you.”

“Come, take a glass of liqueur with me and forgive my gross behavior.”

Annabel glanced at Mally, obviously affected by Chris's closeness. She moved away a little, and Mally saw how much that small step cost her. “Tell me, Chris,” said Annabel, “how did you do it? I mean, how were the eyes made to light up like that?”

“It's an old trick, the priests used it in Deyna's temple. There is a candle burning inside her, and if you touch this knob down here then a shield drops away from the eyes, letting the candlelight shine through the green glass eyes.” He smiled again. “Henry put in precise instructions, as related to him by a former priest. I gather Deyna is discredited now—she didn't see enough!”

Richard laughed. “Maybe
she
didn't, but I fancy Lady Annabel has tonight!”

Annabel nodded with feeling. “How right you are, Mr. Vallender, but I shall have my revenge, of that you may be sure.”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Chris, I envy you!”

They sat down again, and somehow now the presence of Deyna was no longer oppressive. Annabel settled herself carefully, arranging the gathers of satin to their best advantage.

“Tell me, Mr. Vallender,” she said, “what decided you to return to England after all this time?”

“There was little to keep me there.”

“All those years and you can say that?”

“Yes. My wife died in childbed, the baby died too, the plantation was no longer paying its way due to a blight which I could not rid it of, and I had a desire to kick my heels free of America for a while.”

“And so you just sold up and came back?”

“Yes. I saw the advertisement for Castell Melyn and remembered that Llanglyn was where Daniel hailed from. It seemed the perfect solution.”

She searched his face. “And was it?”

“The perfect solution? I have yet to discover. It is interesting, though, for it has a ghost.”

“Ghost?” Annabel's eyes shone suddenly. “Oh, do tell me you have seen it, Mr. Vallender, for I have yet to meet anyone who has
really
seen a ghost.”

“Unfortunately she is rather shy. I am informed by the local doctor, Dr. Towers, that she is the ghost of a certain Lady Jacquetta de Winter, a medieval noblewoman whose husband walled her up for being unfaithful to him.

Mally shuddered. “Don't.”

“You are from Llanglyn, Mrs. St. Aubrey, and so you must know the story.”

“Yes.”

Annabel was curious at Mally's reaction. “What's wrong, Mally?”

“Nothing.”

Richard searched her face. “Surely you do not believe the tale, Mrs. St. Aubrey?”

“No. It's just that I was shut away in part of your castle once a long time ago and I have never been more terrified in my life. I dream about it even now.”

Annabel's eyes shone excitedly. “It sounds truly skin-crawling! Doesn't it, Chris?”

He laughed. “Not particularly, but then I obviously do not have your vivid imagination! And I am surprised at you, Annabel, after that exhibition before poor Deyna a few minutes ago!”

“But, Chris, I've always wanted to go to a real haunted house. I've been to several which
call
themselves haunted, but they've each been a dreadful disappointment. This one sounds so—so
genuine!”

“Because you want it to be, Annabel.” Chris grinned at her. “Well, then, put it to the test. Prevail upon Richard here to invite you to his eerie—or should that be eyrie?—establishment on his Breconshire mountain. More than that, prevail upon him to invite us all so that we may all shiver and tremble.”

Annabel turned to Richard immediately. “Oh, could we? I should
love
it, truly I should!”

Richard's eyes flickered momentarily to Mally. It was such a brief glance that she thought perhaps she had imagined it, and there was a slight hesitation before he smiled at Annabel. “I do not know that my poor castle is grand enough for an earl's daughter, Lady Annabel.”

“What nonsense,” said Annabel. “You are backing out, aren't you? You have been fibbing about that ghost!”

“No, I have not been fibbing. And if I had been, then you must accuse Mrs. St. Aubrey of aiding and abetting me.”

“Then let us come and prove for ourselves.”

Richard smiled at Annabel's glittering eyes. “I had not imagined you to be such a dedicated ghost-hunter, my lady.”

“I am—but they always evaporate whenever I am near! Oh,
please,
Mr. Vallender.”

Mally caught Richard's swift glance yet again, and sensed immediately that any reluctance he was showing was simply and solely due to her. But why?

She smiled at him. “Well, Mr. Vallender, you have three very eager, would-be guests clamoring around you, have you no answer for us?” She suddenly wanted very much to be invited to Castell Melyn—

“Then you must all come then, of course, if you are so set upon my poor Lady Jacquetta.”

Annabel clapped her hands excitedly. “I can scarce wait!”

Richard laughed. “I do not return to my ghost for another two weeks, I fear, but from that moment on you may hunt her to your heart's content.”

“
Two
weeks—oh, it sounds like a lifetime.”

Chris stretched his long legs. “And I cannot leave London for a week or two myself, my affairs will not permit it.”

Mally suddenly remembered her promise to her mother. “Oh, dear, I fear
I
may have to step down after all—”

Annabel's face fell. “But, Mally, you cannot! I should not be permitted to go alone and that would mean my chaperone! Oh, please, don't be so horrid as to decline!”

“But I promised my mother I would return to Llanglyn with her at the end of this week.”

Richard turned swiftly toward her. “Your mother still lives in Llanglyn?”

“Yes.” She could see a strange expression in his dark eyes again. An anxiety almost— “Perhaps you know her, Mr. Vallender. Her name is Mrs. Olivia Berrisford of Llanglyn Court.”

He stared. “She is
your
mother? I confess I had no idea. No idea at all.”

Chris looked at him in surprise. “To say that you seem taken aback, Richard, would be to put it somewhat mildly.”

Richard laughed shortly. “I
am
taken aback. This makes things a little awkward. Even embarrassing. You see, Chris, Mrs. Berrisford does not approve of me in the slightest. She regards me, I fancy, as the very source of all things doubtful—very definitely a toad of the first order.”

“Good heavens,” said Annabel, “what
ever
have you been doing?”

Richard looked at Mally. “I take it that your mother has mentioned my name?”

“Yes, Mr. Vallender, and you would indeed seem to be a toad of the first order in her opinion.”

“And in yours?”

“No—unless all toads are charming company.”

He inclined his head, similing. “I am quite overcome at your kindness. But, in view of this, if you think you wish to change your mind about visiting—”

Oh, how he wants to keep me out.
Mally felt more and more with each second that if he wanted her away from Castell Melyn, then she must do all in her power to thwart him. “I know—I can go to Llanglyn with Mother, stay with her for two weeks, and then when you all go to the castle, I may join you.”