The White Witch Read online

  “Very short indeed, my Lord,” Bowles answered.

  The Marquis took a ten pound note out of his notecase.

  “Buy what you require for dinner,” he ordered, “and tomorrow I will see to it that my affairs are better organised.”

  “Thank you, my Lord, thank you very much,” Bowles said. “It’s been hard, awful hard during the time your Lordship’s been away.”

  It struck the Marquis that Bowles was looking not only older since he had last seen him, but also extremely thin.

  “Are you telling me that you and Mrs. Bowles have not had enough to eat?” he asked sharply.

  “Mr. Potter has on your instructions, my Lord, reduced the wages of everyone who works on the estate and ours were halved.”

  The Marquis drew in his breath.

  It suddenly struck him that since he had come home he had not seen any servants except Bowles.

  “What has happened to the footmen?” he asked.

  “Mr. Potter dismissed them, my Lord, saying they were not wanted while you were abroad. And I do not wish to worry your Lordship as you’ve only just arrived, but it’s very difficult for me to manage without any help.”

  “Has Mrs. Bowles any help in the kitchen?” the Marquis enquired.

  “No, my Lord.”

  “Then as soon as you have served me my luncheon,” the Marquis replied, walking towards the dining room, “I want you to go down into the village and bring back everyone you can who was here before I left, or fill their places as best as you can.”

  He noticed the old man’s eyes light up and then the Marquis took several notes out of his case.

  “Pay all the outstanding bills, Bowles,” he said, “and tell the butcher and whoever is now running the other shops that I want everything to return to exactly as it was in my father’s time.”

  “That’s good news, very good news indeed, my Lord,” Bowles muttered in a shaky voice.

  The Marquis was half afraid that he would burst into tears as he sat down at the table.

  “Now quickly serve me what your wife has cooked,” he said in a different tone of voice, “and I do hope that her Ladyship is enjoying your wife’s excellent cooking.”

  What was produced for luncheon was definitely edible but there was very little of it.

  The Marquis had the uncomfortable feeling that the Bowles family would go hungry if he consumed everything that was put in front of him.

  He had nearly finished what was provided when he asked,

  “Who is the young woman I found in her Ladyship’s room when I went upstairs? She is called Flora.”

  “Oh, that be Miss Romilly,” Bowles replied, “Your Lordship must remember Mr. Fredrick Romilly who writes books and lives at the Four Gables.”

  “Yes of course I remember him,” the Marquis said in surprise. “Are you telling me that Miss Flora is Mr. Romilly’s daughter?”

  “Yes, my Lord. Her were just a child before you spent so much time in London. When her mother died, she looked after the herb garden and people comes from all over the County for her to cure their ailments.”

  “You believe that is possible?” the Marquis asked.

  “Indeed it is, my Lord,” Bowles replied. “Miss Flora be wonderful in what she does for them that’s old and the children what hurts themselves.”

  The Marquis mentally questioned this assertion.

  At the same time he recalled that Fredrick Romilly had written several books which had been acclaimed in the newspapers and he would be able to tell him the truth about what was happening.

  The Marquis did not believe that the school had really been closed on an order from him, as they had been told, nor that the Vicar had left because he did not receive his stipend.

  That must be an absurd exaggeration on the part of the girl called Flora, but her father was a sensible and respected man.

  *

  The Marquis ordered a chaise to drive to the village while wondering apprehensively if his horses were still in the stables.

  To his relief he learnt that Gower, the head groom, was still in charge.

  The Marquis shook him by the hand before asking, “I was worried in case anything had happened to my horses whilst I was away.”

  “Three of them were sold, my Lord,” Gower replied.

  “Three?” the Marquis queried. “On whose orders?”

  “Mr. Potter’s, my Lord. He said he’d had your instructions as it was a mistake for us to have to feed so many.”

  The Marquis’s lips tightened. He knew he must talk to Fredrick Romilly first before he could denounce Potter.

  He took Gower with him because he did not like to ask if he still had any assistants left in the stable. They drove off down the long oak lined drive.

  When they reached the lodges the Marquis enquired, “Why are they both empty?”

  There was a pause before Gower answered,

  “Mr. Potter refused to pay them, my Lord. He said as there’d be no one calling at the castle there was no reason for them to open the gates.”

  “So they went elsewhere,” the Marquis said sharply.

  “They couldn’t stay without any wages, my Lord.”

  The Marquis was silent.

  They drove through the iron gates which needed repairing and their points regilding.

  He noticed in the village street that the cottages were in a bad state of repair. Most of them were thatched and because the thatch had not been renewed or tended to, large parts of the roofs had been covered with pieces of tarpaulin. On some of the roofs there was old carpet or empty sacks.

  He said nothing, but he missed very little as they drove down the road.

  On one side there was the Park and on the other the cottages and two small shabby-looking shops. It was obvious, the Marquis thought, that no shopkeeper would stay where there was little money to be spent.

  He remembered, now he thought of it, that the Four Gables, Fredrick Romilly’s house, was at the far end of the village.

  Being Elizabethan, the house was built of red brick which had mellowed over the centuries into a pink hue.

  It was quite a large house with its diamond-paned windows and large gables from which it was named and so made it attractive. The strangely shaped Elizabethan chimneys enhanced its appearance.

  There was a short drive and as it ended the Marquis became aware that the garden was filled with spring flowers.

  The almond and cherry trees were in blossom and the whole property looked very different to everything he had just seen in the village.

  Gower climbed down to knock on the front door which was opened by a neatly dressed servant. She was wearing a starched lace cap and a white apron over her dark gown which was also trimmed with lace.

  The Marquis left the chaise and walked to the door.

  “I wish to see Mr. Fredrick Romilly,” he said, “if he is available.”

  “I thinks, my Lord,” the maid replied dropping a little curtsy, “that the Master said he was not to be disturbed, but Miss Flora be in the drawing room.”

  The Marquis hesitated but then he thought it would be rude just to drive away.

  He therefore followed the maid who was already leading him towards the drawing room.

  When she opened the door the Marquis saw that it was a most attractive room. It was furnished with antiques in keeping with the low ceiling and the diamond-paned windows.

  Sitting at the writing-table was the girl he had seen in his grandmother’s bedroom.

  “His Lordship be here, Miss Flora,” the maid announced.

  As the Marquis entered the room, he thought that Flora rose reluctantly from her desk.

  Now as she waited for him to reach her, he realised that she was exceedingly pretty, perhaps lovely being the right word.

  He had not noticed her looks earlier when he had believed her to be a servant.

  Now he saw that her hair was the gold of the sunshine and her eyes the deep blue of cornflowers.

  As he joined he
r, she dropped a neat curtsy saying,

  “I am surprised to see your Lordship.”

  “I have come to see your father,” the Marquis replied, “but your servant said that he was not to be disturbed. I suppose he is studying.”

  “Papa very much dislikes being interrupted when he is busy,” Flora stated coldly. “Perhaps I can help your Lordship?”

  There was no warmth in the way she spoke and the Marquis guessed by the expression in her eyes how strongly she despised him.

  It was something he could never remember happening before where a woman was concerned.

  He felt annoyed that she was blaming him for sins he had not committed.

  “As your father is not available, Miss Romilly,” he said, “perhaps you will be kind enough to help me by answering a few questions.”

  This was obviously something Flora had not expected as she hesitated before responding,

  “Perhaps if it is really important, I should inform Papa that you are here.”

  “That is not necessary,” the Marquis said.” I am sure, Miss Romilly, that you can assist me in his absence.”

  As he spoke he walked towards the fireplace. It was difficult for Flora not to follow him.

  “Perhaps your Lordship would like to sit down,” she offered as if she felt obliged to be polite.

  “Thank you,” the Marquis replied as he sat down in an armchair and after a moment’s hesitation Flora sat opposite him.

  There was silence until the Marquis started,

  “I have just called on Mr. Potter. I suppose you and most people in the village must realise the state he is in.”

  “He has become gradually worse,” Flora answered, “and it is not helping the people whom he has left practically starving. The cottages are falling down for want of repair and, as I have already told you, the school has been closed.”

  “Allow me to assure you,” the Marquis asserted, “it was not on my orders. From what I have seen, Potter has been feathering his own nest at the expense of the people who were placed in his charge.”

  Flora looked at him.

  The Marquis had a strange feeling that she was wondering if he was telling her the truth.

  As if he suddenly felt he must justify himself he said,

  “I assure you, Miss Romilly, that when I travelled abroad, as you may know for over a year, I expected to find everything exactly the same when I returned.”

  “Did you really give Mr. Potter no instructions about economy and dismissing so many men both in the house and on the estate?” Flora enquired.

  “I told him to keep everything going in exactly the same way as it was when I inherited my father’s title,” the Marquis informed her.

  Flora did not speak as he continued,

  “I admit that I should have visited the castle more often before I left and on my return. But I became so involved in events that were happening in London, and it was only yesterday that I felt a sudden wish to be at Wyn.”

  There was a further silence before Flora said,

  “I find it hard to believe that your Lordship was completely ignorant of what was happening here.”

  “I can only give you my word that I received no correspondence from England while I was travelling first in India and then in Nepal. When I came back to England no one told me that there had been any changes on my estate.”

  “How could you have been so foolish as to trust a man like Potter?” Flora asked. “Have you any idea how much he has made your people suffer? And everything that he has done to hurt or ruin them has been attributed to you.”

  “If that is true, I can only ask you, or rather your father, to help me put matters to right.”

  “I cannot allow him to be worried at this particular moment,” Flora said quickly. “He is working on the most brilliant but difficult book he has ever written, and his publishers want him to finish it as quickly as possible.”

  She saw that the Marquis was not looking sympathetic and added pleadingly,

  “Please do not disturb him. If you do so, he will believe it to be his duty to help you. Quite frankly, he has spent so much time helping the people in the village who are your responsibility, that we urgently need the money he will earn from his new book.”

  There was a sarcastic twist to the Marquis’s lips as he replied,

  “In which case, Miss Romilly, I am afraid I must ask you to help me.”

  He saw Flora stiffen and he thought for one moment that she was going to refuse him.

  Then as if she realised she must not think of herself but the people who had suffered at Potter’s hands, she said,

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “First of all I want to be put in the picture of exactly what has happened and secondly you must show me how I can make amends.”

  “That is a very big request, but I suppose that if your Lordship is really anxious to rectify this intolerable situation, it comes down to money and of course a little compassion on your part.”

  The Marquis thought as she spoke that she was sceptical as to whether he was capable of compassion.

  “Thank you, Miss Romilly,” he replied.

  “Or shall I say Miss Flora, as that is easier? Please now tell me what I should do first.”

  “I should have thought that the obvious move would be to dismiss that monster, Mr. Potter, and make it quite clear to the village and everyone on your estate what you think of him.”

  “I will certainly do just that,” the Marquis said, “when he is capable of understanding me.”

  “Have you seen him since you arrived?”

  “He was asleep or rather so drunk that he was not aware of my presence.”

  “He is always in that state,” Flora said, “unless he is thinking out a new way of extracting money from the people ostensibly on your orders. I suspect he has put it all into his own pocket.”

  “From what I have seen already that would be easy to prove,” the Marquis agreed. “At the same time it would cause a great scandal.”

  He paused before he continued, “I intend to sack Potter right away, but if I hand him over to the police it will react very unfavourably on the castle and of course on myself.”

  He thought as he spoke that it might also involve the gentry of the County asking awkward questions.

  They could be suspicious as to why he had spent so long in London after his return from Nepal.

  If he brought Locadi into the picture, she might easily twist the situation to her advantage. In fact she would say that her reputation was ruined and that she expected him to make amends by offering her marriage.

  “No!” he said aloud, almost as if someone had challenged him. “Whatever happens, the least this problem is talked about the better.”

  “You can hardly expect people not to talk,” Flora cried. “Naturally, because they have known you ever since you were born, everyone is interested in you.”

  She did not make her remark sound like a compliment.

  “I am asking you, Miss Flora, for your help and advice. It is too late now for recriminations.”

  Flora drew in her breath,

  “You are making this very difficult for me. I have hated you for so long and hoped that somehow you would suffer as your people have suffered. So it is difficult to feel delighted that I can help you.”

  “Forget about me, and just help me to decide which people we must help first.”

  “Very well,” Flora assented. “The pensioners have had their pension reduced by almost half. Those who were employed on the estate or in the castle were gradually sacked until there was just one left to do the work of two or three.

  “As I have already told you, the school was closed on what Potter claimed were your orders, and as the Vicar received no stipend he was forced to leave.”

  “Will he come back?” the Marquis asked.

  “As he was here for so long and knew everyone within a radius of ten miles, I think he would love to do so.”

  “I will d
ouble the stipend he received before,” the Marquis pledged, “and also pay any expenses he incurs in moving himself and his family back into the Vicarage.”

  Flora clasped her hands together.

  “Do you really mean that?”

  “Of course I mean it,” the Marquis said. “I am, as I think you know, a very rich man, and these ridiculous economies were made by Potter only because he was greedy and wished to fill his own pocket.”

  “I understand that now,” Flora said. “But, as you know, everyone has always respected the castle, and they could not suspect that a man in such an important position could behave so dishonourably.”

  “I am afraid that sort of thing happens all the world over. Now what about the school?”

  “It was not only closed,” Flora said, “but Potter has turned it into a cottage and now charges a rent for it.”

  “Then we will have to build another school and quickly,” the Marquis said. “In the meantime is there anywhere the children can be taught in comfort?”

  Flora thought for a moment before saying,

  “I have been holding a Sunday School myself in the Church, and the children have learned to sing hymns and say prayers. But that is not the same as having the Vicar amongst us.”

  “Of course not,” the Marquis agreed, “and I think you can hardly hold school every day in the Church once the Vicar is back doing his job.”

  “The only place I can think of,” Flora suggested tentatively, “is the castle.”

  The Marquis stared at her.

  “Are you proposing that we should accommodate all the children in the castle?”

  “There are plenty of rooms you do not use. There is the Armoury room for one, the ballroom and the music room. Perhaps there are other rooms that I have not yet seen.”

  “I suppose we could find one,” the Marquis said, “and it would only be for a little while.”

  He felt a little reluctant to allow a large number of noisy school children into the castle.

  Yet it was something that had to be done.

  “If we can find the right teachers,” Flora said as if she was following his thoughts, “you will experience no difficulties.”

  The Marquis did not argue although he wanted to do so.

  “After all,” Flora resumed, “some of the rooms we have just mentioned have doors opening straight into the garden. So the children would not have to come into the main house itself.”