The Love Trap Page 10
“Presents?” Janeta questioned.
“Yes, Your Grace, they’ve been pourin’ in ever since the announcement of your marriage in the newspapers. His Grace’s very popular, as I suspect you knows.”
Janeta thought, though she did not say so, that all the presents would be for the Duke. It would be surprising if there was even one for her personally.
She did not want to think at the moment about her likely reception by the Duke’s relatives and friends, but only to try to get accustomed to The Castle and to realise that she was the Mistress of it.
Because she had been so terrified when the Duke had brought her here from London, she had not taken in any of her surroundings, but had been concerned only with a feverish anxiety to escape from her stepmother.
Now she felt as if a little voice throbbed inside her mind saying,
“This is yours! Yours! Yours! This is where you will be safe for ever!”
In the warm scented bath that Mrs. Robertson prepared for her she felt as if her troubles vanished.
The Duke, as he had promised, would protect her, even though she was back in England and within reach of her father and her stepmother.
‘They cannot touch me now,’ she told herself.
She hardly noticed when Mrs. Robertson dressed her first in a diaphanous nightgown in a very soft shade of blue and then in an exquisite satin and lace negligée that matched it.
When she had arranged Janeta’s hair, she said,
“His Grace’s waiting next door and I’m sure he’ll think, as I do, that Your Grace looks very beautiful.”
She had been so deep in her thoughts that Janeta had hardly noticed her reflection in the mirror.
Now she looked at herself and she thought that she looked her best, although she wondered if the Duke would think she could be compared with the lovely women who had fawned on him in Paris.
Then because she wanted to be with him, she thanked Mrs. Robertson and hurried across the room to the communicating door, which the housekeeper opened for her.
The Duke was standing in front of the mantelpiece in the sitting room and, as she entered, Janeta gave a little gasp.
The whole room was decorated with white flowers and great bowls of Madonna lilies stood on each side of the fireplace and on side tables of carved gilt. There were garlands over every picture and a mass of star-shaped orchids covered the top of the mantelpiece.
Janeta clasped her hands together and exclaimed,
“How pretty! Did you do – this for – me?”
“For my wife,” the Duke replied, “and I also have a wedding present for you, Janeta.”
As he spoke, he took a velvet-covered box from an adjacent table and opened it.
Inside there was an exquisite necklace of flowers made in diamonds.
“Shall I put it on for you?” he asked.
“It is lovely! Perfectly lovely!” Janeta exclaimed. “But you should not have – given it to me.”
“I realised in Paris,” the Duke answered, “that you had no jewellery. I should, of course, have brought some of the family jewellery for you to wear, but this is your own, Janeta, and now belongs to you.”
As he spoke, he put it round her neck and fastened the clasp at the back.
As he did so, his fingers touched her bare skin and she felt a strange little quiver like a thrill run through her.
It happened so quickly that it was gone even before she could savour it.
Then the Duke said,
“I have another present and one that I should have given you as soon as we were married, but I wanted to buy it from my own jeweller in England, who knows my taste exactly.”
As he spoke, he opened another very much smaller box that Janeta had not noticed and took from it a diamond ring.
“This is your engagement ring,” he said, “and I hope when you wear it, that you will forget that we never had a proper engagement.”
He was smiling as he put it on her finger and then he realised that Janeta was looking worried.
“What is troubling you?” he asked. “I hoped you would be pleased by my gifts.”
“They are magnificent and wonderful,” Janeta replied. “But I feel it is wrong for you to give me anything so valuable.”
“Wrong?” the Duke questioned.
“You see, I am embarrassed by your generosity,” Janeta explained, “because I have nothing to give you in return.”
There was a little silence and the Duke deliberated whether he should tell her what she could give him. At the same time he feared that if he did so, it would be too soon and would frighten her.
While he hesitated, the door opened and the servants came in with their dinner.
Two footmen carried first a small table already laid and were followed by the butler with champagne. And again the Duke insisted that Janeta should have a little.
He told her it was because he did not wish her to be tired, but she knew perceptively that it was really because he hoped it would sweep away her fear of The Castle and of coming home to England.
When they sat down at the table, the Duke set out to amuse Janeta in the same way as he had when they were in Paris.
But now he talked of his home, the mischief he had got into as a small boy and various secret places in the garden and on the estate which he wished to show her, as he had made them peculiarly his own.
He also spoke of the old retainers she would meet and of the horses that he was waiting for her to ride.
It all sounded so entrancing that Janeta listened to him with her eyes shining and a transparent happiness that made her look very different from the terrified miserable girl he had brought first to The Castle and through whom he had found a way of escape from the trap set for him by her stepmother.
They finished their dinner with dessert consisting of huge peaches and grapes from the Duke’s hot houses, which seemed to Janeta also symbolic of the perfection she found in everything that concerned him.
Then Jackson came to the table with a decanter in his hand.
“Port, Your Grace?” he asked.
The Duke shook his head.
“No, thank you, Jackson, I have had an excellent dinner and, when I have finished my glass of champagne, I shall not want anything more.”
“Excuse me, my Lord,” Jackson said, “but this is a very special wedding present I was entrusted with soon after Your Grace left for France. I was given instructions that you were to drink it the first night Your Grace returned home to celebrate your home-coming and your marriage.”
The Duke looked interested.
“A very kind thought,” he said. “Who was the donor?”
There was a little pause before Jackson answered,
“I asked the same question. Your Grace, and was told it came from someone who admired Your Grace enormously and wanted to extend to you his good wishes.”
“And his name?” the Duke insisted.
“The groom who brought it wouldn’t tell me that,” Jackson replied, “but as it happened. Your Grace, I recognised his livery.”
The Duke smiled.
“You always had a sharp eye, Jackson! Who was it who wished to be so mysterious?”
“The livery, my Lord, was that of Lord Brandon.”
There was a little silence and, thinking that the Duke’s answer was now in the affirmative, Jackson filled a small wine glass by his side with port, put the decanter on the table and left the room.
Supposing that this must be an olive branch from Janeta’s father, the Duke picked up the glass of port.
Then, as he lifted it to his lips, Janeta gave a cry,
“No! No! Please! Please!” she begged. “Do – not drink – it.”
She spoke in such an agitated way that the Duke looked at her in surprise.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because I feel – in fact – I know, it will be – dangerous. I am sure it was not Papa who sent you the port, but – Stepmama.”
“Do you think it
will make me ill?” the Duke asked with a faint twist to his lips.
“I think,” Janeta said in a very low voice, “it might – kill you!”
The Duke looked at her in astonishment, then put down the glass as he said,
“Why should you say that? I cannot believe that, however angry your stepmother may be with you and me, she would risk being accused as a murderess.”
There was silence for a moment, then Janeta said,
“I will tell you something very strange that happened the first day I returned home from school.”
The Duke was listening as she went on in a low voice,
“Papa and Stepmama were in the country and I went straight there. I found most of the old servants who had been in the house when I left and they were pleased to see me. But there was one new man.”
She paused before she continued,
“He was the first footman who, I realised as soon as I arrived, was very much in my stepmother’s good books. She praised Henry, that was his name, and kept asking him to do things for her and made, in a way, a fuss of him which seemed to me rather – unusual and – undignified.”
She stopped speaking and twisted her hands,
“Someone else new was the youngest housemaid, who was allotted to look after me. Because Emily was a pretty attractive girl and rather nervous, I talked to her and she told me that she had only just arrived in the house and had been brought there by Henry, as they came from the same village.
“The next morning, when she was dressing me, Emily told me secretly, as if she could not bear to keep it any longer to herself, that she and Henry were engaged.
“‘I’m ever so happy, miss,’ she said, ‘except that her Ladyship seems to have taken a dislike to me. I’ve a feeling that I shan’t be allowed to stay here.’
“I was sorry for the young girl,” Janeta went on, “because I knew only too well that, if my stepmother had taken a dislike to her, she was doomed.”
The Duke was listening and at the same time wondering how this concerned the port that Janeta had warned him not to drink.
Then after a little pause Janeta continued,
“Later that day I went unexpectedly into the drawing room and found Stepmama having what was obviously an argument with Henry. They were both talking in low voices, so I could not hear what they said.
“When I appeared, Stepmama walked away, but I knew by the way her eyes were flashing and the hard line of her mouth that she was angry. Henry, red in the face and obviously upset, hurried from the room.”
“How old was the man?” the Duke interposed.
“Oh, between twenty-five and twenty-seven, I suppose,” Janeta replied. “He was good-looking and more refined than most of the other footmen.”
“Go on,” the Duke said.
“I did not see Emily again that day until I went upstairs to dress for dinner. As soon as she appeared, I realised that she had been crying.
“‘What is the matter, Emily,’ I asked.
“‘It’s her Ladyship, Miss Janeta,’ she replied. ‘She’s been complainin’ about me to the housekeeper and Henry thinks, and so do I, that I am bound to be dismissed when we’re paid our wages at the end of the week.’
‘“I am sorry, Emily,’ I said. ‘I wish I could help you.’
“‘Nobody can help me,’ Emily said miserably. ‘I was so happy to come here to be with Henry and I’ve done my best, I have really, miss.’
“She looked so pathetic as she spoke,” Janeta said, “that I put my arms round her, saying,
“‘Cheer up, Emily, perhaps you will have another chance.’
“As I spoke,” she continued, “the door of my bedroom opened and Stepmama came in.
“‘There you are, Emily!’ she exclaimed.
“I felt Emily stiffen as she moved away from me and dropped Stepmama a little curtsey.
“‘I have just been saying that you look run down and a little tired,’ Stepmama went on in such a kind manner that I looked at her in surprise.
“Emily was surprised too and she said,
“‘I’ve done my best, my Lady, I have really.’
“‘I am sure you have,’ Stepmama said, ‘and I realise it’s a lot of work when we have people staying in the house and, of course, you have not really become accustomed to the hours.’
“Again,” Janeta said, “she was being so pleasant, I could hardly believe it.
“Then Stepmama went on,
‘“I have brought you, Emily, a tonic that I know will make you feel much better. It is one I always take myself, which makes me feel on top of the world. Take a small wineglass full of it when you go to bed and I know that it will make you much stronger and able to continue working hard, as I know you wish to do.’
“As she spoke,” Janeta said, “she handed Emily a medicine bottle and then left the room, telling me to hurry or I would be late for dinner.
“‘There you are Emily,’ I said jubilantly, ‘it was not as bad as you expected and I have never known my stepmother to be so kind!’
“‘Very kind, miss,’ Emily agreed. ‘I’ll do exactly as she says and perhaps everything’ll be all right.’”
Janeta stopped speaking and after a moment the Duke asked,
“What happened?”
“In the morning,” Janeta said very quickly, “Emily was – dead!”
“Dead!” the Duke exclaimed. “I don’t believe it!”
“It is true. She was found dead in bed and, when the doctor came, he said that she had died of a heart attack.”
“He did not suspect anything else?”
“No! He was very definite in saying her heart was affected and she must have died in her sleep.”
The Duke was silent for a moment and then he said,
“Is that the truth?”
“I said to Stepmama,” Janeta replied, “because I could not help it,
“‘You don’t think, Stepmama, that perhaps the tonic you gave Emily was too strong and affected her heart?’”
“What did she reply,” the Duke asked curiously.
“Stepmama looked at me in a way that always frightened me, and answered,
“‘What tonic? I don’t know what you are talking about!’
“‘The tonic you gave Emily when you came to my room,’ I replied.
“‘I think you must be going mad!’ Stepmama retorted. ‘I would not have thought of giving that tiresome idiotic girl anything, except her notice. If you ask me, that she has died is the best thing that could have happened. We are well rid of her.’
“She went from the room as she spoke, but I think Henry knew the truth.”
“Why do you think that?” the Duke asked.
“Because he left without saying anything to anyone. The butler reported to Papa that Henry had gone. Papa thought it was due to grief at losing Emily. But I was sure it was because he was too frightened to accuse Stepmama of being a murderess, which was what she had been.”
The Duke put his hand up to his forehead.
“I can hardly believe that what you have told me is the truth!”
“It is, I promise you,” Janeta said. “So please do not touch that port and tell Jackson to throw it away.”
“After what you have told me,” the Duke said, “though I cannot really credit your stepmother would be so diabolical, I will certainly give my orders to Jackson.”
He rang the bell as he spoke and, when Jackson came into the room, he said,
“You can take away the table and, Jackson, the port is corked or else it has been kept too long. Pour it away yourself and no one is to drink it. Do you understand?”
“I understands, Your Grace,” Jackson said. “I’ll see no one touches it.”
He picked up the decanter as he spoke. The footmen carried the table from the room, and as they shut the door, Janeta gave a little sigh of relief and went to the window.
The sun was sinking in a blaze of glory behind the trees in the Park. The last flicker of crimson and g
old in the sky was reflected on the lake and overhead the first evening star could be seen glittering faintly.
It was very quiet and very beautiful.
Because he knew that Janeta had been upset by what had occurred at dinner, the Duke said,
“Tomorrow we will ride through the Park and I will take you to a flat piece of ground, where we can gallop our horses.”
“I would like that,” Janeta said. “But I have not ridden for some years and I only hope that you will not be disappointed in me as an equestrian.”
“I will teach you to ride,” the Duke said, “as I am prepared to teach you a great number of things and I promise, Janeta, that it will amuse me very much to have such a willing and intelligent pupil.”
“It will be very exciting for me,” Janeta said. “But will you promise me that if I do bore you and you think I am a nuisance, you will say so and perhaps find someone else to instruct me.”
“It is a promise I can give you quite easily,” the Duke said, “because I know it is something that will not happen.”
He paused for a moment and then he said,
“Amongst all the many different things I have done in my life, I have never taught anyone anything as far as I can remember, except my troopers when I was in the Army for a short time and I suppose, when I had a fag at Eton, I taught him his duties.”
“I hope I shall be as bright as they were,” Janeta said, smiling, and then he remarked,
“My only concern is that I shall have to polish up my brain to keep up with you on a great many subjects. But at least I shall have the satisfaction of starting off as the Master.”
“I think you will always be – that,” Janeta said in a low voice.
She looked up at the Duke as she spoke and her eyes were held by the expression in his.
She had no idea how lovely she looked in the fading light or that the glittering diamond necklace round her neck accentuated the whiteness of her skin and made the Duke aware of the soft curves of her breasts beneath it.
He drew in his breath and then behind them the door of the sitting room crashed open and Jackson exclaimed,
“Please, Your Grace, come at once!”