The Unbreakable Spell Page 3

  It was much more cosy for the girls to eat there when they were alone and it meant that they did not have to change into their evening gowns.

  Caroline played about with her first course, then she said eagerly,

  “Can I go now?”

  Rocana looked towards the door where a young footman was bringing in a roast chicken.

  She frowned at Caroline who realised she was being too impetuous and, when he had gone downstairs, Rocana suggested,

  “Go and change now and I will say you have a headache and are not hungry.”

  She knew the servants would expect some explanation as to why Caroline was not eating her dinner. Life at The Castle was so quiet and dull that everything that happened, however trivial, was of interest.

  The only person who knew what Caroline was doing was Nanny and as Caroline had been her baby and adored her, no secret could be kept from her.

  “You’ll get into trouble, that’s what you’ll do!” Nanny said as she helped Caroline into her habit.

  “I am in trouble already, as you know,” Caroline answered bitterly. “I don’t wish to marry the Marquis nor any other man I met in London.”

  “It’s no use arguing with Her Grace, dearie,” Nannie replied. “She’s set her heart on you making a grand marriage.”

  “I know that,” Caroline replied, “but I have no wish to be grand. I want to live in the country with lots of horses and dogs of my own and be with somebody I love.”

  There was no need for Nanny to ask who that was and, as if she controlled her feelings because it would be a mistake to express them to Caroline, her lips were set in a tight line.

  Picking up her riding whip and gloves Caroline hurried down the side staircase and out of the back door which led her quickly to the stables.

  The rest of the staff were all having their supper, so she knew she would be unobserved.

  At the same time she felt that everything in The Castle menaced her, but once she was riding towards Patrick, she wanted to be with him with an urgency that made her heart ache and the tears come into her eyes.

  He was waiting for her in the centre of the wood where there was a clearing made by the woodcutters.

  He had tied up his own horse to a fallen tree and, as soon as Caroline appeared, he ran to her side to lift her down from the saddle.

  As he did so, he held her for a minute close against him, then taking her horse by the bridle tied it, as he had tied his own, so that it could not stray away.

  Then as he turned round, he saw Caroline was standing waiting for him in the centre of the clearing.

  She had taken off her riding hat and her fair hair gleamed in the last rays of the sun that was sinking over the horizon in a blaze of glory.

  For moment they just stood looking at each other.

  Then Patrick held out his arms.

  With a little cry Caroline ran towards him to hide her face in his shoulder and burst into tears.

  “Don’t cry, my darling,” Patrick said. “Please don’t cry like that.”

  “I cannot – bear it!” Caroline sobbed. “I cannot – leave you. What – shall I do? I know Mama and Papa – will never – listen to me!”

  Her voice was almost incoherent with tears.

  Patrick merely held her closer as if it was the only way he could comfort her.

  His own face was white and drawn and, when they sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree, Caroline thought she had never seen him look so serious or so old.

  He took his arms from around her to hold one of her hands in both of his and he said very quietly,

  “Are you sure, completely sure that you do not wish to marry the Marquis?”

  Caroline gave a cry.

  “How can you ask me such a – silly question? I hate him and he has no wish to – marry me – and if I have to – accept him I think I shall – kill myself!”

  She spoke almost hysterically in a way that was very unlike her and Patrick’s fingers tightened on hers until he hurt her.

  Then he said still very quietly,

  “Listen to me, my darling. I have a suggestion to make, although I am half-afraid to say it.”

  Caroline raised her eyes to his enquiringly and he thought it was impossible for anyone to look so lovely.

  Her eyelashes were wet and there were tears on her cheeks, yet she looked so exquisitely beautiful that Patrick wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her until there was no need for words.

  Instead he asked,

  “Do you love me enough to elope with me?”

  For a moment Caroline was still and it was obvious she had not thought of such a possibility.

  Then she asked,

  “Elope – with – you?”

  “It is something I should not ask you to do,” Patrick said, “and it will cause a great scandal between our families, but I can think of no other way for us to be together.”

  “Do you really – mean that we could – run away and be – married before anybody can – stop us?” Caroline said hesitatingly.

  “It will be a difficult thing to do and your father is sure to try to find us and get the marriage annulled. So we would have to hide ourselves very cleverly.”

  “But I would be your wife?”

  “You would be my wife!”

  As Patrick spoke, Caroline’s eyes seemed to light up and there was a radiance in her face that swept away her misery and turned the tears on her cheeks into rainbows.

  “Then let’s elope,” she cried, “and at once – tonight – or tomorrow, as quickly as – possible!”

  “My darling, do you really mean that?” Patrick asked.

  Now he reached out and pulled her against him and, as she raised her face to his, he kissed her passionately and demandingly until he could feel her quiver against him and knew that her heart was beating as frantically as his.

  Then resolutely he loosened his arms and moved a little away from her saying,

  “We have to work things out very carefully.”

  “But I can be with you – and we can be – married?”

  “That is what I pray we will be able to do,” Patrick replied, “but it is going to be very difficult and we must not make any mistakes or you will be brought back in disgrace and your mother will somehow contrive that we never see each other again.”

  Caroline gave a cry of fear and put out her hands to hold onto him.

  “I must be with you – I must!” she said, “and you know I will – never – never love any man – except you!”

  “My sweet, my darling – ”

  He would have kissed her again, but he restrained himself.

  “When is the Marquis arriving to stay?”

  “The day after tomorrow.”

  Patrick frowned.

  “As soon as that?”

  “He is coming for the Steeplechase.”

  “Of course and naturally he will win it. Nobody has better horses than his.”

  “Can we – leave before he – comes?”

  Patrick sighed.

  “That is impossible and you will therefore, my sweet, have to be very clever and act what I know will be a very demanding part.”

  Caroline looked frightened as she asked,

  “What must I – do?”

  “I have been thinking it out while I have been waiting for you,” Patrick said. “It would be impossible for me to obtain a Special Licence to enable us to be married anywhere and also to collect enough money to support us while we go into hiding in less than a week or so.”

  “A week is too long!” Caroline exclaimed. “By that time the Marquis will have proposed to me.”

  “I know, but you will just have to tell your parents that you will marry him,” Patrick said harshly. “And when he asks you, appear to agree.”

  “You mean I – have to – accept his – offer?”

  “Tell as few lies as possible, but make the Marquis believe that you are ready to become his wife.”

  Caroline’s hands ti
ghtened on his.

  “I shall be – frightened!”

  “But you will know you will never marry him because I am arranging everything so that we will be together, just as quickly as it is possible.”

  Caroline gave a sigh.

  Then she said,

  “I will do – exactly what you – tell me to – do.”

  “I love you!” Patrick exclaimed. “And, my darling, I will move Heaven and earth to make sure you will never regret giving up the position you would hold as the Marquis’s wife for me.”

  “I just want to be with – you and to – love you,” Caroline sighed.

  He looked at her for a long moment before he said,

  “There is one thing which makes me think that fate is on our side.”

  “What is that?”

  “My father heard today that his younger brother – my uncle – is dying. He is a very rich man, but he never married and has always said that I am his heir.”

  “I would marry you whether you were rich or poor,” Caroline said quickly.

  “I adore you for saying that,” Patrick replied, “but it makes things very much easier, my sweet, if I have enough money to support you with all the comforts you have always had without relying on my father.”

  The way he spoke made Caroline come back quickly,

  “Do you think he will be – angry if we run – away?”

  “I am afraid it will annoy him a great deal,” Patrick replied, “not because he has anything against you, but because he likes to be on friendly terms with his neighbours. As you know, your father is very important in the County and could, if he wished, make things very uncomfortable for mine.”

  “Would – you mind that – very much?”

  “I mind nothing except losing you, and I cannot contemplate what my life would be like without you, with all the agony of knowing that you were married to another man.”

  “It would be agony for me too! Oh, Patrick, help me to escape – and make sure – nobody finds us until it is – too late to do – anything about it.”

  “That is what I intend to do,” Patrick said firmly.

  As she looked up at him, Caroline thought she had never seen him so resolute or in a way grown up.

  Because they had known each other since they were children and met at all the parties in the County, she had felt, although he was actually four years older than she was, that they were the same age.

  Now for the first time she saw him as a man – a man who would look after and protect her and whom she would obey because he was wiser than she was.

  “Tell me what to – do.”

  “It is going to be difficult,” Patrick replied, “but I want you to go back to The Castle tonight determined to act so cleverly that nobody except Rocana will have the slightest suspicion that you are not delighted to marry the Marquis and enjoy the important place in Society he would give you as his wife.”

  Caroline stiffened, but she did not speak and Patrick went on,

  “I shall not be able to meet you tomorrow because I shall have to go to London to obtain a Special Licence.”

  “Will that not be – dangerous?”

  “I think they are strictly confidential, but to make sure I shall not use your title. Have you another name besides Caroline?”

  “Yes, of course. I was christened ‘Mary’ after Lady Mary Brunt, who was said to be very beautiful.”

  “She could not have been more beautiful than you!” Patrick said in a deep voice. “Nobody could be!”

  “That is what I want you to think.”

  For a moment they had both forgotten what they were talking about and then Patrick went on,

  “Just as soon as I have the Licence and enough money to keep us in hiding until everybody has accepted the situation, we will go away.”

  “Do that quickly – very – very quickly,” Caroline urged, “just in case something awful – happens and I – lose you!”

  “You will never do that,” Patrick answered, “and I am much more afraid of losing you.”

  He drew her close to him again and kissed her.

  Only a long time later, when they came back to reality did they realise that dusk had fallen and the first stars were coming out in the sky overhead.

  “You must go back, my precious,” Patrick said, and his voice was hoarse and a little unsteady.

  “I want to stay with you.”

  “You will be with me by day and by night once we are married. My darling, you are quite certain you will not change your mind?”

  “How could I?’ Caroline asked. “I am yours – completely yours. I always have been and I could not let – another man – touch me.”

  She hid her face against him as she said inarticulately.

  “When I was in London – several of the – men with whom I – danced tried to – kiss me, but I knew I could never – feel for them what I feel for you.”

  Patrick’s arms tightened around her until it was difficult for her to breathe.

  “That is what I thought would be happening,” he said harshly, “and it tortured me!”

  “There was no need, I was only – counting the days until I could come – home and see you again.”

  “I adore you,” Patrick sighed, “and I will spend my whole life trying to make you happy.”

  “I shall be happy,” Caroline told him, “as I am now, but I was very – very – frightened until you said we could – run away together.”

  Patrick did not answer.

  He merely kissed her again.

  Then, as if he was trying to do what was the right thing he drew her to her feet, fetched her horse and after a last lingering kiss lifted her onto the saddle.

  “Tell Rocana what we have planned,” he said, “but do not breathe a word of it to anybody else. You know ‘walls have ears’, and gossip travels on the wind.”

  “I will be very – very – careful,” Caroline promised.

  Patrick fetched his own horse and they rode side by side until they were in sight of The Castle.

  Then he reached out and kissed Caroline’s hand from which she had drawn her glove.

  His lips were passionate and insistent on the softness of her palm until she quivered and he knew that she wanted him to kiss her lips.

  Because he thought it might be dangerous for them to linger too long where they were, he smiled and said,

  “Goodnight, my darling, my precious! Remember only that I love you and you need no longer be afraid.”

  “And I love you!” Caroline whispered.

  Then, because she realised it was what he wanted, she touched her horse with the whip and rode swiftly through the paddock to the back of the stables, entering the same way she had left them.

  She was careful to creep up the back stairs where nobody saw her.

  Then, when she reached the schoolroom landing, she burst into Rocana’s bedroom to find, as she expected, her cousin sitting up in bed reading.

  “You are back!” Rocana exclaimed.

  Caroline shut the door.

  Rocana thought that she had never seen her look so radiant as she reached the bed and sat down beside her.

  “Oh, Rocana, everything is wonderful!”

  Then in a very low voice she told Rocana what Patrick had planned they would do.

  *

  The Marquis arrived at The Castle at exactly the time he intended to do which was five o’clock in the evening.

  He knew from long experience that it was always wise to arrive to stay with people so that there was less than an hour to make conversation before it was time to change for dinner.

  He had planned it, as he planned everything else, down to the last minute, and as his phaeton drawn by four superlative horses turned in at the ornamental iron gates of Bruntwick Castle, he drew a gold watch from his waistcoat pocket.

  The hands pointed to three minutes to five.

  His groom, who had been with him for some years and was used to his ways, remarked,

&nb
sp; “Exactly on time, my Lord!”

  The Marquis did not reply and there was merely a faint smile on his hard lips as he looked ahead and saw Bruntwick Castle at the end of the drive.

  It was an impressive sight with the Duke’s standard flying from the roof, but the Marquis, comparing it with his own house in Buckinghamshire thought it was somewhat of a hotchpotch contributed by various generations.

  The mansion that bore his name had been completely rebuilt and redecorated by his great-grandfather a hundred years ago and was a perfect example of Palladian style.

  The horses, although they had come from London, covered the mile long drive in a few minutes and the Marquis drew up with a flourish outside The Castle door.

  A footman had already laid a red carpet down the grey stone steps and the butler was waiting at the top of them to greet him, as he handed his reins to the groom beside him.

  “As soon as you get to the stables, Jim,” he said in a low voice, “see that my horses have arrived and that they are properly prepared for the Steeplechase tomorrow.”

  “I’ll see to it, my Lord.”

  As the phaeton moved away towards the stables, the Marquis unhurriedly and with an autocratic dignity that was characteristic of him, walked up the steps and into the hall.

  He had no idea, as he handed his hat to one of the footmen, that high above him, peeping from between the banisters, Rocana was taking in every detail of his appearance.

  As she looked at him, she thought it was strange that he was actually so identical with the picture she had formed of him in her mind, that she might almost have created him.

  He was handsome, there was no denying that, quite the most handsome man she had ever seen, but she could understand why he frightened Caroline.

  Because her eyes were sharp and she was very perceptive, she did not miss the hard expression in his eyes or the fact that his mouth was so firm it might almost have been described as ‘cruel’.

  At the same time she appreciated his extreme elegance and the way his cravat was tied in an intricate fashion that she had never seen before.

  His coat fitted without a wrinkle and his champagne-coloured pantaloons were completed by Hessian boots that reflected in their high polish the furniture past which he was walking.