Victoria Holt (25 page)

“I should be most interested.”

“Come to the table then and I will show you some of the old plans of the place. There are some very good drawings done by the monks about a hundred years before the Dissolution.”

He drew two chairs up to the table. I sat down and he pulled a great tome toward us.

“What do you know about the monks of Colby?” he asked.

“That they were Cistercians…little else.”

“Then I’ll tell you a little. They came into existence round about the twelfth century and our abbey was built in the eleven nineties. Do you know where their name came from?”

“No.”

“From Cîteaux, which was a desolate and almost inaccessible forest bordering on Champagne and Burgundy. Here is an old map. I’ll show you. St. Bernard, the founder, was the Abbot of Clairvaux, the first of the monasteries.”

I turned to look at him. He had indeed changed. That he was immensely interested in the Abbey was obvious, for he had thrown off that blasé worldly manner. He looked younger, almost boyish in his enthusiasm.

“They were a noble band of men,” he said. “Their aim was to devote themselves entirely to their religion. Perhaps it is nobler to go into the world and try to improve it than to shut oneself away in meditation and prayer. What do you think?”

“Yes, I think the braver course is to go out into the world. But so few people improve it when they do and a love of power gets between them and their ambitions.”

“Ambition,” he said. “By that sin fell the angels. Lucifer was proud and ambitious, and as I have told you he is believed to have been a member of our family. Ask Mrs. Baddicombe.”

I laughed. “Please go on. It’s fascinating.”

“The aim of the Cistercians was to live as simply as possible. Everything was to be plain. They always built in remote places, far from the towns. This must have been isolated once. Can you imagine it? The precincts were surrounded by a strong wall and always near water. Some were built on either side of a stream. We have the river nearby and that gives us our important fish ponds. The monks had to have a supply of fresh food. In the walls were watch-towers. I suppose they had to keep a lookout for despoilers. Look. Here is a map. You’ll recognize much of it. Here are the barns, the granaries, shambles, workshops. This is the inner ward and this the outer.”

“Oh yes,” I said. “It is indeed recognizable.”

“Here’s the Abbot’s House; the guest-house is next to it. People were always calling at the Abbey and no one who needed food and shelter was ever turned away. Look at the nave. There were eleven bays. You can see it clearly in this map. You see, you enter by the narthex. And here is the transept. Look at the stall divided by a wall once…the monks one side and the
fratres
conversi
on the other. They were the novices…Some of their quarters help to make up the Academy. They were not so badly damaged as the rest of the Abbey.”

“What a wonderful map!”

“As it was in those days. And I have another as it appeared after the Dissolution. My family had that one done. Look, here is the calefactory, the day-room.”

“Our common room today.”

He turned to me and said: “I am glad you are so interested.”

“I find it so fascinating.”

“So many people are enamored of the present and never want to look back to the past. Yet it is by studying what happened then that we are often better able to deal with the events of today.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true. Thank heaven they won’t come along now and demolish our school.”

“I should like to see anyone try with Miss Daisy Hetherington in command.”

I laughed. “She is a very fine woman.”

“We’ll put our heads together over this pageant and get some really authentic touches.”

“I think you should consult Miss Hetherington.”

He looked at me in dismay and we both started to laugh again.

“It has been very illuminating,” I said.

“And you are surprised that I should be interested in such a serious subject.”

“I am sure you can be very serious. There must be a great deal of work on the estate.”

“It needs constant attention.”

“Yet you were able to leave for long stretches at a time.”

“I did, didn’t I. I don’t often do that. I have good people…one very good man, Gerald Coverdale. You should meet him.”

“I doubt he would have much to talk about with me.”

“You would be interested to hear about the estate. It is a little community of its own, like a town…more than that, like a kingdom.”

“And you are the king.”

“‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.’”

“I am sure you would never be uneasy.”

“You mistake me. There is so much about me that you have to learn. You have dismissed me as frivolous, immoral, bent on pleasure. That is only a part of me. When I come to think of it, I have some very good points.”

“It is said that good points should be discovered by others, not by ourselves.”

“Who said so? Miss Cordelia Grant, I’ll wager. It sounds like one of the homilies you declaim to your classes.”

“They do say that schoolteachers are recognizable wherever they go.”

“Perhaps there is something in that.”

“We are inclined to be tutorial and give the impression of knowing all.”

“Sometimes that can be charming.”

“I can see you are determined to flatter me this afternoon. Tell me about the estate, this little kingdom with the uneasy-headed king.”

“We have to keep it in working order. There are the farms and the factory.”

“The factory? What factory is that?”

“The cider factory. We employ most of the people round here in some capacity or other.”

“So they are dependent on you for their livelihood?”

“On the estate rather than on me. I just happen to have inherited it. The Verringers have always taken their duties to the estate seriously, and although I say it of my own family, we have been good landlords. We have made it a duty to care for our people. That is why the cider factory was started about a hundred years ago. We’d had several bad harvests and lots of the farms were not paying their way. It looked as though there would not be enough work for a number of people. The cider factory seemed a good idea. Most of them were making it in their own homes, so we started it and we employ about a hundred people in the neighborhood.”

“You are in a way the benefactors.”

“We always liked to think of ourselves as such.”

“The people should be grateful.”

“Grateful. Only fools expect gratitude.”

“I see the cynic has reappeared.”

“If truth is cynicism then he is never far away. I always like to face the facts. It is a peculiar trait of human nature that people dislike those who help them.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes, my dear Cordelia. Just consider it. Who have always been the Verringers’ bitterest enemies? Our own people on the estate. Who have endowed us with satanic qualities? The very same. Mind you, I am not saying that we do not possess those devilish habits, but it is our own people who are our own most vicious critics and when our exploits are not startling enough, magnify them. The fact is, people hate feeling they owe anything to anyone, and although they take help, they hate themselves for being in a position to have to take it. As it is the hardest thing on earth to hate oneself, that hatred is transferred to the helper.”

I was silent. I thought of Mrs. Baddicombe, who owed her living to the fact that she had been appointed postmistress by the Verringer estate and could not hide the venom in her voice when she discussed them.

“Perhaps you are right…in some cases,” I said. “But not all.”

“No one is ever right in all cases. There must be exceptions.”

We smiled at each other and I felt a glow of happiness. I was glad that the girls had gone off to try the horses and I was hoping that they would not return just yet.

“It is a pleasure to be able to talk to you reasonably…seriously. In the past our encounters have been verbal battles. Amusing, stimulating, but this is a great pleasure to me. I want to talk to you about the estate. How I want to improve it. What plans I have for it.”

“I doubt I should understand them.”

“That’s why I want to talk to you…to make you understand…and to tell you about my life and myself. Do you know, this has been one of the happiest afternoons I have ever known.”

I laughed. He had broken the spell. “That is going too far,” I said.

“You laugh. But it is not so. I have had moments in the past when I was happy. But happiness is just moments, isn’t it? From the time I came into this room and found you here, I have been happy. That must have been for twenty minutes. That’s quite a stretch.”

“It seems a very short time to me.”

“I knew it would be good to talk to you. I knew you would understand. You make me see life differently. I wish we could meet often.”

“That would not be easy. Miss Hetherington would be most disapproving.”

“For heaven’s sake why?”

“I am employed by her and it would not be seemly for one of her mistresses to be too friendly with someone of the opposite sex living in the neighborhood, particularly…”

“A man of my reputation. I doubt Mrs. Baddicombe would approve either. But then what a scoop for her!”

We were laughing again.

“Cordelia,” he said seriously, “you know I am falling in love with you.”

I stood up, but he was beside me. He put his arms round me and kissed me. I was trying to force myself to struggle free and not to accept the fact that I wanted to stay close to him.

“This must not be,” I began.

“Why not?”

“Because I am not…”

“I love you, Cordelia. It started the moment I saw you in the driving seat with Emmet.”

“I must go. Oh, where are those girls?”

As though in answer to my question I heard their voices. I withdrew myself and went to the window. I said: “They are coming.”

“We’ll talk more of this,” he said.

I shook my head.

“Think about me,” he said.

“I can scarcely avoid doing that.”

“Try to understand. I want a happy family life. I have never had one. My frustrations, my disappointments have made me what I am. I want to be different.” He was speaking earnestly now. “I want to live my life here, with my wife and the children we shall have. I want to make the estate the best in the country and above all I want to live at peace.”

“I think your desires for these things are very natural but…”

“Then help me to achieve them. Marry me.”

“Marry you! But a short while ago you were about to marry Marcia Martindale.”

“No. That was the Baddicombe version.”

“You can’t be serious. You are amusing yourself at my expense.”

“I am serious.”

“No…not with Mrs. Martindale living so close…I know very well that you and she…”

The girls burst into the room.

Eugenie looked radiant. “They are superb, Uncle Jason,” she cried. “I tried them both.”

“Have we been too long?” asked Fiona.

“No. You could have stayed longer,” he said ironically.

“I’m gasping for tea,” said Eugenie.

“Then ring for it,” he said.

She did and it came; and Fiona poured out. Eugenie talked all the time about the horses, but I was not listening and I was sure he was not either.

I was wildly exhilarated and horribly skeptical as we rode back to school. Eugenie was still talking about the horses and said she was going to take Charlotte Mackay over to see them.

I spent a sleepless night trying to remember everything he had said. Had he really been serious? I kept seeing his face alight with enthusiasm. I thought of the way in which his eyebrows turned up slightly at the ends; the way his dark hair sprang from his rather high forehead; the brilliance of his eyes when he talked of love.

How did I feel? I could not exactly say. I was too bewildered. All I knew was that I wanted to be with him, that I had never felt so excited in my life as I had been sitting close to him, listening to his enthusiasm for the Abbey; and then when he had kissed me I had been quite unprepared.

He was very experienced; he would know what effect he had on me. Whereas I had never known anything like this before.

I was able to stand up to him in our verbal battles and that was because I had always found it easy to express myself lucidly. After all, wasn’t I teaching English? It was when it came to understanding my emotions that I was a novice.

I must curb my elation. I must remind myself that he probably talked to every woman he was trying to seduce as he had to me. I was very well aware of his intentions and I must be careful.

The next day Daisy called me to her room to ask how the meeting went.

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last night,” she said, “but I gathered all went well.”

“Oh yes, very well. He really wants to help with the Abbey pageant. He showed me some interesting maps and he is certainly knowledgeable about the history of the Abbey. I really think he wants to make sure we don’t commit any anachronisms.”

“Did he say anything about the costumes?”

“He may have mentioned them. I think he will be very happy to lend them.”

“So we misjudged him really.”

“Well, the girls did go off to look at horses.”

“So you were alone with him?”

“Not for long. That was when he showed me the maps and books.”

She nodded. “By the way,” she said, “something rather interesting has turned up. You know I was looking for a maid since Lizzie Garnett left last term.”

“Oh yes. Have you got someone?”

“Yes, and the strange thing is that she was at Schaffenbrucken.”

“Oh!”

“That was why I selected her. I had one or two to choose from. You know I put an advertisement in the
Lady’s Companion
. I didn’t have many letters. Most of them couldn’t put pen to paper if they tried. It may be that those who can write wouldn’t make the best maids. However, I liked the sound of this letter and the fact that she had worked at Schaffenbrucken I must admit interested me and decided me in her favor. I wonder if you knew her.”

“What is her name?”

“Elsa something. Yes…Elsa Kracken.”

“Elsa,” I said. “There was a maid called Elsa. But then it is a fairly common name. I don’t think I ever heard her surname.”

“It will be amusing if you knew her from Schaffenbrucken.”

“Is she English?”

“She wrote in English. The name doesn’t sound quite…”

“Elsa,” I said. “Yes…she was rather a talkative girl…not much of a servant but everybody liked her.”

“I thought she wrote a good letter.”

“When does she arrive?”

“At the end of the week.”

I was thoughtful. The conversation had brought back memories of Schaffenbrucken. It was Elsa who had told us about the legend of Pilcher’s Peak and that if we went out at the time of the Hunter’s Moon we should meet our future husbands.

It would be quite a coincidence if she should be the one. But it might well be another Elsa.

***

It was not long before I met her. I was coming upstairs and there she was coming down.

“Elsa!” I cried. “It
is
you then.”

She turned so white I thought she was going to faint. She clutched at the banister and stared at me. I might have been a ghost.

“Why,” she stammered. “It’s…er.”

“Cordelia Grant. We met at Schaffenbrucken.”

“Cordelia Grant.” She whispered my name. “Why…of course.”

“I confess I am not so surprised as you are,” I said. “Miss Hetherington did tell me that someone named Elsa was coming and that she had worked at Schaffenbrucken. I thought of you, but didn’t really believe it possibly could be.”

The color was returning to her face. She was smiling and looked more like the jolly girl I had known.

“Well, fancy that. The age of miracles is not past. What are you doing here?”

“Working,” I told her. “I’m teaching.”

“Oh, but I thought…”

“It all changed. When I left school I had to find a post. My aunt knew Miss Hetherington and I came here.”

“Well, I never did!”

She started to laugh. “They were good days at Schaffenbrucken,” she said.

“Oh yes. You remember the girls…”

“Your special friends. There was that French girl and the German girl and that Lydia…wasn’t that her name?”

“Yes, I think Frieda and Monique will be leaving this year. Probably have left by now. I wrote to Lydia but I didn’t hear from her.”

“Too busy with her affairs, I daresay.”

“Well, she left Schaffenbrucken soon after I did, I gathered.”

“Oh, did she now?”

“But Elsa, where have you sprung from?”

“I came to England. I left the term after you did. I got a job over here…that didn’t last so long and then I applied for this. What a life!”

“Miss Hetherington is rather particular. You’ll have to do your work properly.”

“Do you mean I didn’t at Schaffenbrucken?”

“I only remember your doing a lot more talking than anyone else.”

“Oh, this is like the old days. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you.”

“You looked as if you’d seen a ghost a moment ago.”

“I was shaken all of a heap, as they say. It was such a surprise. Now I’m realizing what a nice one it is.”

“Well, I shall be seeing you about, Elsa.”

“I’m looking forward to getting to know the girls. It was you girls that I liked at Schaffenbrucken.”

“Miss Hetherington won’t want you to be too friendly with them.”

Elsa winked at me and went downstairs.

***

Sir Jason sent a message over to the school to say that he had discovered some very interesting information which he thought would be very useful when compiling the commentaries for the pageant. If Miss Grant would care to come over he would be delighted to show them to her.

Daisy called me to her study to tell me. She immediately noticed my embarrassment.

She said: “I think you ought to go, but take Miss Barston with you. I do think he is trying to become too friendly and one has to be careful. I haven’t told you about Miss Lyons, have I? That was some years ago. She was a pretty dainty little thing. She taught dancing—that was before Mr. Bathurst’s time. Sir Jason noticed her. I don’t know what happened. He pursued her a bit and the poor child was most unworldly. She must have believed all he told her. She was very unhappy when she discovered the sort of relationship he was after. Of course his fancy for her was only passing. You and I know what such men are, but poor Hilda Lyons believed in beautiful romance. She became quite depressed and almost suicidal. I had to send her away—and in the middle of term! You are a different kettle of fish.” She smiled with rare humor. “Not that I am really comparing you with that useful object. It is just in the nature of the metaphor. I know you will take great care. He has a fancy for you but you are not in the least like poor Hilda…or that Martindale woman for that matter. He evidently likes variety and has all his lines in the river at once…if you know what I mean.”

“I think I understand very well,” I said. “I think, too, that I know how to deal with Sir Jason.”

“The rather annoying part of all this is that we have to, as they say, keep on the right side of him. If he became spiteful…imagine what he could do.”

“In spite of his many failings I don’t think he would be that.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I was thinking of all the gossip in the town about him over his wife’s death and his association with Mrs. Martindale. He knows it and yet he is very lenient with those people. I suppose he could put the fear of God into them if he wanted to.”

“H’m,” said Daisy. “Well, my dear, you can’t very well refuse to go and Miss Barston will be a good chaperone.”

“I’ll go over this afternoon.”

“That’s right. If you go about two you can be back at four. I believe you have a class at four thirty.”

“Yes. The last of the day.”

The matter was closed as far as Daisy was concerned. I must admit that I was not altogether displeased to be riding over to the Hall although every day it seemed I learned something more about him and it was mostly derogatory. Now the dainty pretty Hilda Lyons had put in an appearance.

Mrs. Keel greeted us. No doubt she had her instructions.

“I was to take you to the rooms which Sir Jason particularly wanted you to see. He will be with you in five or ten minutes.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Keel.”

“He will be glad Miss Barston has come. He has something special to show her. It is in the library. I’ll take you there, Miss Barston, and then you can join Miss Grant when you have seen them.”

“I shall be most interested to see whatever it is,” said Miss Barston.

Mrs. Keel took us to the library where several old manuscripts were laid out on the table. Miss Barston was immediately absorbed.

“I’ll just take Miss Grant up and come for you later, Miss Barston, when you’ve had time to look through those papers. There are some drawings there of costumes…last century, I think Sir Jason said. Miss Grant, will you come with me?”

I followed her out of the library. We went along a corridor and came to a stone staircase.

“I don’t know whether you have been to this part of the house before, Miss Grant.”

I said I hadn’t.

“This staircase leads to a set of apartments which we don’t use. They have a historical significance, Sir Jason says.”

“How interesting.”

Mrs. Keel opened a door. I was in a long low room with heavy beams across the ceiling. The windows were small but we were at the top of the house and it was fairly light.

“It’s quite an apartment,” said Mrs. Keel. “A little separate from the rest of the house. I’ll bring Miss Barston up when she’s finished with the drawings.”

She went out leaving me a little uneasy. Miss Barston had come as chaperone and I was already separated from her.

What could he possibly want to show me up here?

I walked round the place. It was like a sitting room with heavily carved chairs and a settle. I saw a communicating door. It led to a bedroom. In this was a four-poster bed, a court cupboard and some chairs. I was startled to see that the windows were barred. They made it look like a prison.

I thought I should find my way down to Miss Barston and we would see what we had to see here together.

I came out of the bedroom and there he was smiling at me.

I said as calmly as I could: “Good afternoon. Mrs. Keel brought me up here.”

“I know. I saw you coming with your companion, so I arranged for her to go to the library.”

“What is it you want to show me in this place?”

“Did you notice anything unusual about it?”

“Only that the windows in there are barred.”

“It was a sort of prison at one time. Come and sit down.” He led me to the settle and we sat side by side. I was aware of him very close and it made a tension in the atmosphere. What a fool I had been to allow myself to be separated from Miss Barston. I had walked straight into the trap, aware all the time that it was being set for me. There was something about Mrs. Keel that was so conventional that she made everything appear so normal. She had done this once before.

“Well, why have you brought me here?”

“I knew you’d want to see it. You were so interested when I told you the story.”

“What story was that?”

“About our devilish ancestors. This is said to be the apartment where our satanic prisoner was kept when the wicked Verringer was trying to force him to marry his daughter. It’s called the Devil’s Den.”

“Very interesting,” I said. “Is that all you wanted to show me?”

“I have a great deal to show you.”

“Then I am sure Miss Barston will be interested too. Shouldn’t she be brought up?”

“You wouldn’t spoil her pleasure in those magnificent drawings. These rooms are used on certain occasions only. Would you like me to tell you about it?”

“Yes.”

“There is said to be a certain quality…an aura…about them. Perhaps you can sense it.”

I looked round the room. What I was aware of was the isolation, and those bars across the window of the bedroom gave it a somewhat sinister atmosphere.

“There is said to be an aphrodisiacal ambience in these rooms…something which was left by the Devil when he honored us.”

I laughed to hide my uneasiness. I was embarrassed that he should talk to me in this manner and I guessed he was leading up to something which put me on my guard and yet at the same time excited me. There was something about him which was different from anyone else I had ever known and while it alarmed me it fascinated me.

“The story goes back into the past,” he went on. “If childless couples slept here, it was said, they were sure of…fertility. Such an important person as the Devil couldn’t live somewhere for even a short space of time without leaving something behind, could he?”

“Well, I suppose if you believe that sort of thing it is very interesting.”

“You would believe, wouldn’t you?”

“No.”

“What about your stranger in the forest. You see, at some time we all have odd inexplicable experiences. Mrs. Keel always comes up here with the servants when they clean. She says the silly girls imagine things. One of them said she saw the Devil and he forced her to get into the bed with him. It turned out to be that she had been sporting with one of the stable boys and as he would have none of it, the Devil seemed a good substitute.”

“You see, people fit these legends to suit themselves.”

“My brother and I used to come up here sometimes. We stayed here one night…just to show we were not afraid. Then he wagered me that I wouldn’t sleep here alone.”