Revenge of the Heart Read online

  Now, as she looked at the Sir Joshua Reynolds portrait over the mantelpiece, she knew she was thinking that it was something she would never forget and wherever she might be she would see it in her mind’s eye.

  The same applied to the conversation piece which was so special, because it portrayed Warren’s ancestor and his family with Buckwood House in the background.

  ‘He has everything,’ she thought.

  Then she was ashamed of feeling a touch of envy, being homeless herself.

  ‘I wish I could be in a picture and live there like the people the artist has portrayed, then I would be immortal!’

  It was a fantasy she found intriguing and she imagined herself, if not in that particular picture, then being painted by some famous artist who would portray her body while she would give it her heart and soul.

  She played with the idea because it delighted her and tried to think what would be a suitable background.

  ‘As I do not own a house,’ she told herself, ‘it would be more appropriate if I was out in a garden.’

  Thinking of it made her walk through the window towards the sundial, and standing by it as she had done with Warren she touched the figures engraved on top of it.

  Then she heard a strange sound which came from a door in the red brick wall.

  Nadia knew it led out into an orchard where the apples on the trees were just beginning to change colour.

  She wondered what the sound could be, and going down the flagstoned path that bordered each side of a well-trimmed box hedge, she pulled open the ancient door which had been there as long as the walls themselves.

  When she could not hear anything, she moved a few steps into the orchard, still wondering what the sound had been.

  The next moment she gave a cry of sheer terror for something heavy and dark was thrown over her head.

  Before she could even struggle, she was picked up and carried swiftly away in what direction she had no idea.

  *

  Warren was in his study dealing with a large pile of correspondence that Mr. Greyshott had left for him to sign. There were several new leases for tenants who had taken over farms that had remained empty during his uncle’s illness, and there was also a report from the manager of his estate in Devon which had to be read carefully.

  He thought as he did so that he would soon have to visit his other properties, especially the one at Newmarket where his uncle had kept most of his racehorses.

  In the meantime, however, there was still a great deal to do here.

  He had already had a number of calls from prominent people in the County inviting him to take up various positions of authority which it would have been impossible for him to refuse.

  He was just reading a letter from the Deputy Lord Lieutenant, who had taken over his uncle’s duties while he was ill, when Mr. Greyshott came into the room.

  He looked up and Mr. Greyshott said,

  “I thought you would like to know, my Lord, that I have just seen the Veterinary Surgeon who confirms that the poison that was inserted into the chocolates was, as I suspected, taken from here!”

  Warren frowned.

  He had been very angry when Mr. Greyshott had told him that he guessed that the poison, which might have killed Nadia, had actually come from the house.

  Apparently his uncle had an aversion to shooting any of his horses or dogs that had become too old or too ill to go on living, and had trusted nobody but himself to ‘put them to sleep’.

  He had therefore persuaded the Veterinary Surgeon to find him a poison that was so strong and acted so quickly that the animal died almost immediately it was swallowed.

  What had first puzzled Warren was to know where Magnolia could have so quickly obtained the deadly poison that had killed Bertha.

  It was then that Mr. Greyshott, who was the only person to be let into the secret of the poisoned chocolates, said that he recognised the box from Gunter’s, which had been ordered by the Marquis before he was taken ill.

  Secondly, he suspected the poison itself came from a locked cupboard in the gun room where the Marquis had kept it, thinking it would be impossible for anybody to get hold of it without his permission.

  “Why should Miss Keane have known of it?” Warren enquired.

  “I should imagine your cousin told her,” Mr. Greyshott replied, “or perhaps his Lordship did so. They both spoke often of how distressing it was to dispose of any of the animals they loved.”

  He thought for a moment before he added,

  “I remember now that while Miss Keane was staying here the Marquis put one of his dogs, who was suffering severely from a growth in the throat, out of its misery.”

  “So I suppose,” Warren said, “Miss Keane took the poison with her when I turned her out of the house.”

  Mr. Greyshott paused, before he answered,

  “Actually, the cupboard has been broken into and the lock smashed!”

  There was nothing more to say.

  At the same time Warren had insisted on an autopsy report that Mr. Greyshott now handed to him.

  Because it only confirmed what he already knew, he set it to one side and started to talk of matters concerning the estate until Mr. Greyshott left him so that he could finish signing his letters.

  “I will come back for them in half an hour, my Lord.”

  Some of the letters were quite long, and Warren had only completed half-a-dozen when the door opened again and without raising his head he remarked,

  “You are too quick for me, Greyshott. I have not yet finished!”

  There was no answer and he looked up, then stiffened.

  It was Magnolia, who had come into the study looking exceedingly alluring and no longer in mourning.

  She was wearing a very elaborate gown of rose-pink chiffon inset with lace that made her look more exotic than usual and her wide-brimmed hat was trimmed with flowers and ribbons of the same colour.

  For a moment Warren just stared at her.

  Then he rose slowly to his feet, as if he was resentful at having to do so.

  Magnolia walked slowly, as if deliberately displaying herself before him, towards the desk.

  Only as she reached it, did Warren ask,

  “What are you doing here, Magnolia? You know I have no wish to see you.”

  “But I have every wish to see you, dearest Warren,” Magnolia replied, “and I think when you hear what I have to say, you will realise it would be wise to listen to me.”

  “I don’t want to listen, and we have nothing to say to each other,” Warren said firmly. “Go away, Magnolia, and leave me alone!”

  He sat down again as he spoke and looked at her across the desk, wondering whether he should accuse her of trying to murder Nadia or whether it would be better to say nothing.

  She was looking at him seductively and he thought her eyes which seemed half-veiled by her long lashes had a glint of triumph in them he did not understand.

  She was holding a paper in her hand, which she put down on the edge of the desk and there was something seductive about the way that she slowly drew off her long kidgloves.

  Then she put out her left hand and asked,

  “Do you see what I am wearing?”

  Because he was puzzled by her behaviour, Warren looked down and saw that on the third finger of her left hand she was wearing a ring he had given her.

  He could so well remember purchasing it in Bond Street, then giving it to her and kissing first the ring and then her finger before he had said,

  “Because it is impossible at the moment, my darling, for us to become engaged or married, I am binding you to me with a ring that symbolises that you are mine for Eternity.”

  “Oh, dearest, that is what I want,” Magnolia had exclaimed.

  “And you will never escape me!” Warren had replied. “Although you cannot wear this ring in the daytime until we can announce our engagement, I want you to promise me you will wear it at night when you dream of me.”

  “You kn
ow I will do that.”

  She had looked down at the ring, which was a very pretty one with small diamonds set with gold all round it.

  She had then lifted her lips and Warren had kissed her passionately, possessively, until they were both breathless.

  Now the memory of what he had felt at that moment made Warren feel disgusted and he said harshly,

  “I told you to go away! If you do not do so, I shall ring for the servants to show you out.”

  “I doubt if you will do that after you have heard what I have to say,” Magnolia replied.

  Now she picked up the paper she had put on the edge of the desk and said with a note in her voice he did not understand,

  “I have here a Marriage Licence made out in your name and mine!”

  “What the devil are you talking about?” he exclaimed.

  “It will be easy for us to be married immediately,” Magnolia said. “I have made enquiries and the Vicar is at this moment at home in his Vicarage.”

  “I can only imagine you are insane!” he replied. “I would no more marry you than I would marry the devil himself!”

  He spoke violently because his temper was rising, but Magnolia remained quite unmoved.

  She merely set down the Special Licence in front of him before she hissed,

  “If you do not marry me, then that woman you call your fiancée will die!”

  Warren seemed for the moment to be turned to stone before he enquired in a voice which with a deliberate effort he made quiet and calm,

  “I should be interested to know exactly what you mean by that!”

  “I mean,” Magnolia replied, “that she has been taken to a place where you will never find her and where, if you do not marry me as I have asked you to do, she will die of starvation!”

  For a moment there was silence.

  “I don’t believe you!” Warren exclaimed.

  Magnolia looked at him under her eyelashes and smiled, making the whole conversation seem more horrifying than ever.

  He knew she was deliberately being seductive, feeling quite confident that it would be impossible for him not to respond.

  Then she lifted her face to his in a manner that was contrived because she knew it displayed the curves of her long swan-like neck.

  “The young woman has been carried away from the garden at your mother’s house and hidden so that, clever though you are, my dearest Warren, you will never be able to find her.”

  She shrugged her shoulders so as to display the sinuous lissomness of her figure before she added,

  “Even if you search and eventually find her, it will be too late, for she will, as I have said, die of starvation.”

  Warren drew in his breath as if he still could not credit what he was hearing.

  He looked down then at the Special Licence lying in front of him and saw on it his own name and that of Magnolia.

  He knew her well enough to realise that she was wildly elated by the feeling that she had him cornered and that there was, she believed, nothing he could do but accept her terms or else allow Nadia to die.

  After a moment he said quietly,

  “Surely we can come to some better solution than that I should accept what, as you well know, Magnolia, is criminal blackmail?”

  Magnolia gave a little laugh.

  “Fine words! And they mean there is nothing you can do, my adored one, but make me your wife!”

  Warren wanted to shout at her that nothing and nobody would make him do that.

  Then in his mind’s eye he saw again Nadia’s face as he had seen it when he saved her from drowning herself in the Seine and had realised she was suffering from starvation.

  He had been well aware how in the last five days since they had been at Buckwood the marks of privation were gradually disappearing day-by-day and almost hour-by-hour.

  It had given her a new beauty.

  He had seen that, as her chin became less sharp, the bones in her wrists less prominent and the lines at the sides of her mouth and under her eyes disappeared, she looked as young as her years.

  And, when she was animated and laughing, she was so beautiful that he thought it was difficult to recognise the unhappy frightened girl who had wanted to die.

  He was sensible enough, however, to know that, if she was subjected again to such privation, it might be difficult to save her a second time.

  Almost as if she was following his thoughts, Magnolia said with what was now an undoubted note of triumph in her voice,

  “It’s no use, Warren! Clever and brilliant though you may be, I have won this time!”

  She paused and, when he did not speak, she added,

  “And, darling, when we are married I will make it up to you. I shall be everything you want in a wife and very much more as a woman for you to love.”

  She gave a little laugh before she continued,

  “I know that nobody could be a more ardent and more passionate lover than you, and however much my brain wanted to marry a Coronet, my body has always responded to yours and now we will be very happy.”

  As she finished speaking, she realised that Warren was not listening.

  He merely asked and his voice was sharp,

  “Tell me where you have put Nadia!”

  “Of course I will do that, just as soon as we are married. We can go now to the Church and you can tell your carriage to follow us. As soon as you replace this ring on my finger, we will send him to find that woman, but keep her out of my sight!”

  Magnolia spoke harshly and it told Warren how much she hated Nadia because she thought she had taken her place.

  He was certain that there would be no chance of saving her unless he did as she demanded.

  Once again he stared down at the Special Licence on his desk, trying frantically to think what he could do.

  It flashed through his mind that he could ring the bell and call for the servants.

  A search could be made, organised by Mr. Greyshott, all over the estate.

  It would cause a great deal of gossip and scandal and might eventually reach the newspapers.

  He knew nothing could be more damaging from his own point of view or that of his family.

  He also had the uncomfortable knowledge that it would be appallingly difficult to find Nadia without having the slightest clue as to where Magnolia had hidden her.

  He owned over five thousand acres of land around Buckwood and all the time he had been away in Africa, Magnolia had been staying here with Raymond except when they were together in London.

  She would by now know hundreds of places where somebody small and weak like Nadia could lie for weeks, even months before she could be found.

  In addition to his blotter, on which the Buckwood coat of arms was embossed in gold, were all the items that were considered essential to a gentleman’s desk.

  There was a large gold inkpot, a pen tray, a pot containing gameshot in which pens could be cleaned, a tiny candle in a very elegant candlestick which was used to heat the sealing wax he sealed his letters with.

  There was also a gold ruler, a pair of gold scissors, and a gold letter-opener, all bearing the Buckwood crest.

  As if another part of his brain had taken over, Warren noticed that the letter-opener was long and very sharp and suddenly he knew what he must do.

  “Give me your hand,” he said aloud and held out his own towards Magnolia.

  She did not seem surprised, but put her hand in his.

  On it was the ring he had given her and, as his fingers closed over it, she smiled into his eyes seductively.

  It was then that Warren slashed her sharply across the back of the hand with the letter-opener.

  Magnolia started and then gave a shrill scream.

  As she did so, she looked incredulously at the long wound from which the blood was already oozing.

  She would have snatched her hand away, but Warren held tightly onto it as he rose to his feet.

  Still holding onto her he walked around the desk until t
hey were facing each other.

  “How dare you cut me? Look what you have done to me!” Magnolia screamed at him. “You have hurt me, Warren, you have hurt me terribly!”

  “I am going to hurt you a great deal more,” he said in a quiet voice, “unless you tell me where you have hidden Nadia.”

  “My hand is bleeding!”

  Warren glanced down and saw the blood was actually running over the side of her hand onto his own.

  Still in the same quiet manner in which he had spoken before, he said,

  “It will undoubtedly leave a nasty scar and if you do not tell me immediately what I wish to know, I will scar your face in the same way, first on one side and then on the other.”

  “You would not dare!”

  The words were defiant, but he could see as she recoiled away from him the fear in her eyes.

  “You have driven me far enough,” Warren said, “and I shall not hesitate to disfigure you. Now which shall it be?”

  He raised the letter-opener as he spoke and now Magnolia could see its long sharp end almost like a stiletto pointing towards her.

  For a moment it seemed as if she would go on fighting him.

  Then as if she knew she was defeated she surrendered.

  “Very well,” she replied sullenly, “she is in the slate mine.”

  “You are not lying to me?”

  “No!”

  “If you have deceived me,” Warren warned, “I swear I will find you and carry out my threat!”

  He paused before he added,

  “Make no mistake, Magnolia! I shall mark you and make certain that in the future your beauty shall not blind another fool to the vileness of your character!”

  As he spoke, Warren took his hand from Magnolia’s so suddenly that, because she was straining away from him, she almost fell to the ground.

  Then, as she staggered to keep her balance, he flung the letter-opener down on the floor and, walking out of the room, slammed the door behind him.

  *

  The men who had carried Nadia away from the garden had put her in a carriage that set off quickly the moment they closed the door.

  They had thrown her down roughly on the seat and she was aware that they had got into the carriage after her and were sitting opposite with their backs to the horses.