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Authors: The Time of the Hunter's Moon

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BOOK: Victoria Holt
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I shrugged that aside and said I should really return to the school very shortly. “There is a great deal to do,” I added.

“What a pity. Is it the Midsummer orgy?”

I laughed in spite of myself. “I don’t think Miss Hetherington would like to hear it called that.”

“I want someone to go through the costumes I have to see if they will be of any use. Will you come to the Hall? I’d like to show them to you.”

“That would be Miss Barston’s department. She is the needlework mistress.”

“They don’t need to be made. They are already done.”

“Perhaps they need a little renovation and refitting for whoever is going to wear them. I will tell Miss Hetherington that you want Miss Barston to call.”

“I was hoping you would come. After all it is a matter of how the costumes should be worn…and all that.”

“How many ways are there of wearing Cistercian robes, I wonder?”

“You would know. That is why I want you to come.”

“It really is Miss Barston you need.”

“I do not need Miss Barston. I need Miss Grant.”

I glanced at him in cold surprise.

“Yes,” he went on. “Why are you so aloof? Are you afraid of me?”

“Afraid of you! Why should I be?”

“Well, I am represented as a bit of an ogre, aren’t I?”

“Are you? I thought you were a widower who is about to remarry.”

He burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s it!” he said. “The tales they tell about my family are really quite amusing. Now there is only myself I have to bear the whole brunt. Once my brother shared it with me.”

“Your life is so colorful, I suppose. You certainly provide the neighborhood with something to talk about.”

“So I have my uses. Cordelia, why can’t we be…friends?”

“One doesn’t just make up one’s mind to be friends. Friendship is something that grows.”

“Well, give ours a chance to grow, will you?”

My heart was beating faster than it should. He certainly had a potent effect on me.

“Everything has its chance,” I said.

“So even I have…with you?”

I spurred up my horse and broke into a canter. I turned off and galloped across a field.

He was beside me all the way. I had to pull up as we came to the road.

“Exhilarating,” he said.

I agreed.

“I have to return now. I mustn’t be late. I have a class starting in an hour and I have to get back and change.”

He nodded and rode beside me. He did not come right up to the school. I wondered whether he was aware of the gossip and did not want it to get to Marcia Martindale’s ears, or whether he thought it would displease me and make me refuse to ride with him again.

I went into the school, changed into a blouse and skirt and hurried to my class.

But I could not stop thinking of him.

***

Two days later during my afternoon break I did not go riding. I was sure that if I did I should meet him again. So I took a stroll through the ruins of the Abbey.

There it was quiet and peaceful and yet at the same time I was aware of a sense of warning as I always was when I was alone among the ruins. I suppose it was the brooding atmosphere of antiquity, the realization that once this had been a flourishing community of saintly men going about their work…and then suddenly the blow had fallen and in place of all that calm beauty and sanctity there was ruin. It was still beautiful, of course. That could not be completely destroyed. A thing of beauty was a joy forever—even when vandals had done their best to destroy it. But so much of the Abbey remained, and how impressive it was with those stone walls—roofless as they were—reaching to the sky.

I walked through the transept and the nave, looking up at the blue sky above me. I passed through the narthex on the west side of the basilica and skirting the chapel and the Abbot’s House, I left the ruins a little behind me and came to the fish ponds.

I stood for a little while watching the water which flowed from one pond to another. There were three of them, the second lower than the first, the third lower than the second, so that where they flowed into each other there were waterfalls. It was very effective and beautiful to watch.

I was standing by the water deep in thought when I heard a footstep and turning sharply saw Jason Verringer.

He approached smiling, hat in hand.

“What made you come here?” I demanded and then realized the folly and impertinence of such a question. After all the Abbey lands belonged to him. He could go where he wished.

He was still smiling.

“Guess,” he said. “Only one…not the usual three…because the answer is obvious. I’ll tell you. To see you.”

“But how did you know…?”

“Very simple really. You weren’t riding so the chances were that you were walking. Where would you walk? Well, the ruins are irresistible, aren’t they? So I tethered my horse not far from here and was walking through the ruins when I saw you admiring the ponds. They are worthy of attention, aren’t they?”

“They are. I was imagining the monks sitting here fishing.”

“As the worthy Emmet does, I believe, and provides you with the fish you eat at the table.”

“That’s true.”

“It is one of the privileges Miss Hetherington has extracted from me.”

“I am sure she is most appreciative.”

“She always seems so. I am devoted to her really. When the school is not in residence it is extremely dull.”

“Surely not, with the estate and…all your activities.”

“There is still something missing…something very attractive.”

I laughed. “You exaggerate, of course. And in any case you were abroad most of the winter.”

“Just this year, yes. The circumstances were rather different from usual.”

“Yes, of course. Do you ever fish in these ponds?”

He shook his head. “I know some of my people do. The fish, I am assured, is excellent and occasionally some of it finds its way to our table.”

I nodded and looked at the watch pinned to my blouse.

“It isn’t time yet,” he said. “Why is it that when we meet you always become very interested in when we shall part?”

“A schoolmistress’s life is run by time. You must know that.”

“The monks lived by bells. You are like them.”

“Yes, I suppose so. And the time I take off in the afternoon is between classes.”

“Which makes it easy to know when you will be available. You should come and dine with me one night at the Hall.”

“I think Miss Hetherington would consider that somewhat indecorous.”

“I was not asking Miss Hetherington. Does she rule your life?”

“A headmistress in a school of this nature would have a great influence on the behavior of her staff.”

“In choosing their friends? In deciding what invitations they should accept? Oh come, you are in an Abbey, I know, but it is only the ruins of one. You are not a nun taking your vows.”

“It is kind of you to invite me but it is impossible for me to accept.”

“There might be a way.”

“I can see none.”

We had been walking along by the side of the ponds and he stopped suddenly and turning to me laid his hands on my shoulders.

“Cordelia,” he said, “suppose Miss Hetherington was agreeable, would you then come and dine with me?”

I hesitated and he said: “You would.”

“No…no…I don’t think it would be very…suitable. Besides, as it is out of the question I see no point in discussing it.”

“I am really getting rather fond of you, Cordelia.”

I was silent for a moment and started to walk. He slipped his arm through mine. I wished he would not touch me. He made me feel very embarrassed and uneasy.

“You are fond of a number of people I daresay,” I replied.

“That is an indication of my affectionate nature. What I mean is that I am getting particularly fond of you.”

I released myself and said: “It really is time I went back. I was only taking a short walk through the ruins.”

“Oh, I know you hear tales of me, but you mustn’t let them affect you. They have been going on for hundreds of years. I am here at the moment so I am the central figure in all the scandals. All my ancestors have shared the same fate, Monsters of Iniquity. That’s what they have all been made out to be. We always laughed at the stories circulated about us. Let the people amuse themselves at our expense, we used to say. Their lives are dull. Let them live vicariously through us. Why there is even a story about these fish ponds. Have you heard yet that my great-great-great-grandfather was said to have murdered a man and thrown his body into these very ponds?”

I looked at them and shuddered.

“The ponds flow into the river,” he went on, “and it is fast moving at this point because of the flow from the ponds. I’ll show you. Come to the end there and you’ll see. The river is only a few miles from the sea…so the poor victim was carried away and his bones now lie somewhere at the bottom of the ocean.”

We had come to the last pond and he proved what he had said. The river was certainly fast at that point, rushing along its way to the sea.

“This wicked Verringer wanted another man’s wife so he brought him to the ponds, hit him on the head, threw him in and let his body float, by way of the ponds, to the sea. Unfortunately for him there was a witness to the evil deed. That is how we know it took place. Much he cared. He married the lady of his choice and she became one of us. You see, we are a wicked clan.”

“You happen to have some records of your family’s action if they have only been handed down by word of mouth. It may well be that if we could all trace our family history back so far we should find skeletons in cupboards.”

“That’s a kindly thought. It is pleasant to contemplate that we are not the only villains.”

There was a sound from above. I turned and saw Teresa standing on the slope which led to the ponds.

“Are you looking for me, Teresa?” I asked.

“Yes, Miss Grant,” she answered. “Miss Barston has a headache and she wants you to sit with her class this afternoon if you are free. She says all you will have to do is watch them. She has set them work.”

“Yes, certainly. I’ll come back at once. Goodbye, Sir Jason.”

He took my hand and kissed it after bowing to Teresa. “It has been a very pleasant afternoon for me,” he said.

I joined Teresa. She said: “I saw you hadn’t gone riding so I guessed you were walking in the ruins.”

“I went down to the ponds and happened to meet Sir Jason there.”

Teresa said: “I had to interrupt you. Miss Barston said…”

“Of course you did, Teresa.”

“I hope you didn’t
mind
.”

“Of course not. As a matter of fact I was trying to get away.”

She nodded and looked rather pleased.

***

His pursuit of me was becoming obvious and people were noticing. He had the temerity to call at the school and suggest to Miss Hetherington that I call at the Hall to inspect the costumes. She told me that when she reminded him that that was a task for Miss Barston he replied that he thought the girls who would wear the costumes should be taught to carry them off with dignity, and that with the special training I had had I should be the one to inspect them.

“It was so blatant,” said Daisy. “He knew it and he knew I knew it too. I couldn’t help laughing…at which he joined in. I said firmly: ‘No. It must be Miss Barston,’ and he said he would let me know when it would be convenient. I fancy we are not going to hear any more about that. I don’t know what to say to you, Cordelia. He has obviously got some interest in you. You are young and good-looking and to put it frankly he is a rake. But he really should provide his own women and not look for them in respectable quarters. He has set that woman up at Rooks’ Rest and surely he knows that in itself—if he were not who he is—should be enough to exclude him from our premises. Unfortunately he is our landlord. He could turn us out at a moment’s notice if the whim took him. Moreover we have two pupils from the Hall. They take all the extras and are most profitable. It’s a teasing situation. Do you think you can handle it? You are a sensible young woman.”

“I think I can. He sometimes waylays me when I ride and the other day I came upon him at the fish ponds.”

“Oh dear…Of course he has every right to be here. We can’t ban him from his own property.”

I felt myself glowing with excitement. It was rather like a battle and I was deeply involved. I could not, with honesty, say that I deplored his pursuit of me. It was flattering in the extreme and I should be a very unusual woman if I were averse to flattery.

When I next went into the town, Mrs. Baddicombe cornered me.

“Oh. I do reckon it’ll be wedding bells pretty soon,” she told me confidentially. “I do hear there be preparations up at Rooks’ Rest. Mrs. Gittings were in here yesterday…going today she is, taking the little ’un to her sister’s place down on the moors. Real pleased she was. There’s nothing she likes better and you can see why. It must be a very odd sort of household up there at the Rest.”

“I know Mrs. Gittings always enjoys visiting her sister.”

“I reckon if it wasn’t for the little ’un she wouldn’t be working at the Rest. She do live for that child. Poor little mite. ’Tis a mercy someone has a little thought for her. Reckon they want her out of the way for the wedding. Stands to reason the likes of she…well she should be putting in an appearance
after
the ceremony…not before.”

“So you think the fact that Mrs. Gittings is going away with the child means…”

“Of course it does, me dear. There’ll be a wedding, no mistake. Parson won’t like performing the ceremony likely as not, but what can he do? Don’t want to lose his living, do he?”

“You can’t be sure this is because of the wedding,” I began.

“What else? And if it ain’t time now, when is it? ’Tis a year since that poor saint went. He’s waited his year, and remember there be no male heir for the Verringers as yet. That’s got to be thought on. You mark my words, that’s what it all means.”

I came out of the shop feeling depressed. Could Mrs. Baddicombe be right? Surely if he were on the brink of marriage he would not show such obvious interest in me?

BOOK: Victoria Holt
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