A Golden Lie Read online

  But she could not force herself on him.

  He was getting on for eighty and she knew that he had very little money. He had a pension to keep himself in comparative comfort and it would be impossible for him to extend his generosity to her.

  Besides, even if he was kind enough to take her in, he would not live for ever and then she would be in the same predicament as she was now.

  ‘I have to be sensible about this,’ she told herself. ‘I must explain to the Earl when he arrives that I have been very useful here and my wages, such as they were, have not been paid for months.’

  She had a distinct feeling that the new Earl would not listen and he would surely send her away.

  Even if he did give her any money, where could she go?

  This question was so petrifying that Devona went into the study and sat down at the Earl’s desk.

  Was it possible that having destroyed the will there would be no compulsion for the new Earl to help her?

  ‘What shall I do? What shall I do?’ she asked over and over again and she could hear no answer.

  *

  It was getting on for midday and, although Devona had eaten an egg for breakfast, she knew that she would be very hungry by one o’clock.

  It then occurred to her that the new Earl could be away from London.

  He might not even be particularly interested in his brother’s death and supposing he found it inconvenient to come to The Hall for another week?

  In which case, Devona asked, what could she do about the dead man upstairs.

  “I am frightened, so very frightened! Oh, Papa and Mama think of me and help me.”

  She spoke the words aloud.

  Even as she did so she heard the sound of wheels outside the front door.

  ‘It must be the new Earl,’ she thought.

  If he had left London at eight o’clock, he could be here by now if he had something fast to travel in.

  She thought that she should go to meet him.

  Then she felt as if her legs would not carry her.

  She was so afraid that she could not think of what she should say or what she must do.

  She felt as if a man who was dark and menacing like the man upstairs was coming nearer and nearer to her!

  She wanted to run away.

  She rose from the desk and stood at the window, trying to compose herself.

  She was fighting against every nerve in her body, which told her to hide herself.

  There were footsteps coming down the passage.

  Devona drew in her breath.

  Then there came a voice from the doorway,

  “Is anyone at home?”

  Devona turned round.

  Instead of the dark sinister man she had expected to see, there was a young, tall, good-looking man, dressed in the height of fashion.

  She just stared at him and he began,

  “I have been trying to find a servant or someone to tell me who is here, but now I have found you, so perhaps I should introduce myself.”

  She tried to speak, but the words would not come.

  “I am the Viscount Narr,” he said. “Or rather if you prefer the eleventh Earl of Narbrooke.”

  There was a note of amusement in his voice as if he found the whole situation a bit of a joke.

  Devona moved from the window towards him.

  “I am very sorry – that there was no one to – greet you,” she managed to say in a low hesitating tone, “but the servants have – all left.”

  “Left?” the new Earl queried. “Then who is here in the house?”

  “There is only me,” Devona answered.

  He smiled at her.

  “Then perhaps you should tell me your name,” he said, “and why you are here.”

  For a moment the words would not come and then, a little louder than she intended, Devona replied,

  “I am, Devona, your uncle’s daughter.”

  As she spoke, she was not even certain why she had said it.

  It was almost as if someone had prompted her.

  The idea had flashed thought her mind as she heard footsteps coming down the corridor.

  It was the only possible way she could stay in the house and not be turned out ignominiously.

  She had to be one of the family.

  “My uncle’s daughter!” the Earl exclaimed. “I did not even know that he was married.”

  Then he added with a smile,

  “It’s not surprising as he refused to communicate with any of us for almost thirty years.”

  “I thought,” Devona said, “it would be his brother who would come here to take his place.”

  “My father has been dead for four years,” the new Earl replied, “and we had really given up even thinking about Uncle Walter until I received your letter. It was you who wrote it?”

  “Yes – I wrote it,” Devona replied hesitantly.

  “And is he still here?” the Earl asked.

  She nodded.

  “Upstairs. I think he had a stroke.”

  “And have you done anything about having him buried?”

  Devona shook her head.

  “There is no money.”

  The Earl stared at her.

  “What do you mean, no money?” he enquired.

  “He always went into the town – once a month and brought back – a little money which we lived on. It was – mostly spent on rabbits and ducks.”

  Devona was stuttering and, as if the Earl realised how scared she was, he suggested,

  “Now there is no need for us to hurry over these things. If you tell me that there are no servants, what are you thinking of doing for luncheon?”

  Devona made a helpless gesture with her hands and she was not aware that it was a very graceful one.

  “All that was left in the house this morning,” she said, “was an egg which I had for my breakfast.”

  The Earl laughed.

  “It sounds like a drama out of Drury Lane,” he said. “I expected things to be difficult, but not as crazy as this. Fortunately I came prepared.”

  Devona wanted to ask in what way, but he went on,

  “I never met my uncle, but I have heard stories of him from the family ever since I became old enough to understand them.”

  He paused for a moment and then continued,

  “So I expected, as he was supposed to be a miser, that there would be no food and I would have to pay for his burial.”

  “You are right – for both,” Devona murmured.

  “Well, I am hungry and you look as if a good meal would be welcome,” the Earl said. “I will tell my servants to bring it what I have brought with me.”

  He walked towards the door and then he stopped.

  “I think I made record time driving here,” he said. “Come and look at my horses.”

  Devona was not aware that her eyes lit up.

  “I would like – to do that,” she said.

  “They are a new team,” he told her, as they walked along the corridor. “I was wondering when I should try them out and, when your letter came yesterday afternoon, I realised that this was the opportunity.”

  They reached the hall and Devona thought he gave a disparaging glance at a window that was cracked and at a torn curtain with its liner hanging loose.

  However, he did not say anything, but went down the steps with Devona following him.

  She saw a large and comfortable-looking travelling phaeton drawn by four perfectly matched jet black horses with a white star on each of their noses.

  She could not help herself from giving a little cry of delight.

  “What a wonderful team!” she exclaimed. “How much – I would love to ride one!”

  She was talking to herself rather than to the Earl.

  “We will have to think about that,” he said. “But I have a feeling I should need horses here if I am to inspect the estate so I have a few others coming with my grooms.”

  Devona stared at him and he went on,

&n
bsp; “I was also clairvoyant and, knowing my uncle’s reputation, I knew that I would be short of servants or, if there were any, they should have been retired years ago. So there are a number of my London staff following me.”

  “That is – very clever of you,” Devona stammered.

  “I have never been here,” the Earl continued, “but I imagine the stables are up there.”

  He pointed to where there was an archway at the end of the West wing.

  Devona nodded.

  “Yes, you are right, my Lord, but I am afraid that there is no one there either.”

  “How on earth have you managed?” he enquired.

  It was a question Devona had not considered and it took her a moment to find the answer, thinking it would be wisest to tell the truth.

  “What few servants there were,” she answered, “ran away after your uncle died.”

  “I am told that often happens. That is why I tried to think before I came here what was required.”

  “I have already told you – there is nothing to eat.”

  “That indeed was the first thing I thought of,” the Earl replied. “Is it true that my uncle lived almost entirely on anything he could kill and he and anyone living in the house had rabbit for every meal?”

  “That is more or less the truth,” Devona agreed.

  “Why did you stand it? Surely you or your mother could have rebelled against his meanness?”

  Devona did not answer and then the Earl said,

  “We must talk about it later. Let me tell my groom where to put the horses and then he can bring in what food I have with me, although we may have to wait on ourselves until the rest of my servants arrive.”

  He did not wait for Devona to reply and he gave the groom, whom she thought looked a smart and intelligent man, his orders.

  The Earl turned towards the front door and, as they went up the steps, he said to Devona,

  “Now you must tell me all about yourself. Your mother married my uncle and just how could she possibly be brave enough to take on a miser, who had made himself a recluse and who neglected all his responsibilities towards his family?”

  He walked across the hall as he spoke and now he opened the door into the drawing room.

  Because it was such a large room, Devona felt lost in it if she went there alone.

  She had sat with the old Earl in his study or she had slipped away when she could to the library where she was happy with the books.

  The new Earl looked round the drawing room and she knew he was thinking that, if it was restored to what it was originally, it would be a very attractive room.

  “Now let’s sit down,” he said. “Suppose you tell me from the beginning why your mother married my uncle and, if she was indeed fond of him, why did she not stop him from behaving so badly?”

  Devona had to think quickly as she had spoken on an impulse and had not thought about the repercussions of her proclaiming herself a member of the Brooke family.

  As if he suspected her indecision, the Earl asked,

  “Did your mother have some money that my uncle wanted or was she someone who would help in the house without having to be paid for it?”

  She thought that his question was an intelligent one and she looked away from the Earl as she replied,

  “Mama was lovely and very hard-up when we were living – in the Dower House and the Earl then asked her to move into The Hall. I think that she really had no choice – but to do as he wanted.”

  “Nothing would ever surprise me from what I have heard of my uncle. I cannot believe considering how badly he has behaved that you had any real affection for him.”

  “How do you know how just badly he did behave?” Devona asked.

  Apparently the old Earl had not communicated with his family for so long and so it seemed rather strange that this young man should know so much about him.

  The Earl gave a little laugh.

  “I don’t suppose you were told how he refused, when he inherited the title, to take over any responsibilities that are always shouldered by the Head of the Family.”

  She knew this, but it seemed best to say nothing.

  He went on,

  “My aunts and cousins apparently wrote pleading letters to him begging him to continue the money they had received from the ninth Earl. He had lived here and was very hospitable. The Brookes were welcome any time they wished to stay with him.”

  “It must have been – very pretty in those days.”

  “I was always told that it was not only a splendid house with magnificent pictures that I can see are still here, although in a terrible condition, but everyone in the County so much enjoyed visiting my grandfather and grandmother, who was a great beauty.”

  “Then what happened, my Lord?” she asked him. “Why did your uncle behave in such a strange way?”

  The new Earl smiled.

  “There are all sorts of stories as to why he became a miser. Some say that a girl he wanted to marry treated him badly. Others say he had an obsession for money which no one could understand. Even as a small boy he hoarded his pocket money and would not spend it.”

  “I found him very intimidating,” Devona remarked.

  “I am not at all surprised. If you ask me, he was very fortunate to get your mother or any woman to marry him considering how repulsive he was to everyone he came into contact with.”

  Devona did not answer.

  She had only known the Earl for five years and she was scared of saying something that would not fit in with her being his daughter.

  “I suppose it is rude of me,” the Earl went on, “to say things about your father, but he has been an ogre to the family ever since I was a small boy. I am quite sure that, although many stories about him are true, a great number have been invented and have grown worse with repetition.”

  Devona thought that nothing could be worse than the way that the Earl had behaved to his people.

  Then the new Earl made her jump when he asked,

  “I suppose that he made a will? Has he left you anything?

  “I have – no idea, my Lord,” Devona replied.

  “It will be interesting to see just how much he has accumulated over the years.”

  “Do you really think” she asked in a small voice, “he has stored away – a lot of money?”

  “Of course he has. My grandfather was a very rich man. Everything was left to the eldest son, but when he moved in here, he made it clear that he had no wish to see any of his relations. He disliked them all and intended to do nothing for them.”

  “What happened then?” Devona asked.

  “They pleaded and pleaded with him in every way including some of the menfolk who journeyed here only to find that the door was closed against them and so it was impossible for them to come in.”

  Devona drew in her breath.

  It was what she would have expected of him and yet it seemed even worse when it was said out loud.

  “Finally they gave up,” the Earl added.

  “Then what happened?”

  “Fortunately my mother had quite a lot of money of her own. She and my father looked after the poorest of our relations and helped those willing to help themselves.”

  The Earl was silent for a moment and then he said,

  “Most of the young men in the family were fighting in France against Napoleon and some of them lost their lives. I joined in for the last two years and then I was with the Army of Occupation.”

  “That must have been interesting,” Devona said.

  “It was, but I will tell you about it another time.”

  “I am sorry I interrupted you, my Lord. You were telling me how your father and mother looked after those in the family who were poor.”

  “We naturally could not give them as much as they would have received if my uncle had done his duty, but they survived, although some have passed away by now.”

  “I find it hard to believe that the money really does exist,” Devona said. “It ha
s been impossible to persuade your uncle to buy anything in the way of clothes. The dress I have on was my mother’s – and my own are in rags.”

  “I think the best thing we can do,” the Earl said, “is to find the answer to that question. Do you know which Bank my uncle kept his money in?”

  Devona shook her head and then she said,

  “I know the name of his Solicitors in the town and, of course, they will know.”

  She remembered the name that she had seen on the will that she had destroyed and told him.

  “As soon as we have had luncheon,” he said, “I will go into town and find out what I can. It should not be too difficult.”

  For the first time Devona wondered if perhaps the old Earl had left a copy of his will with the Solicitors and then she thought it unlikely.

  He would not want them to know what was in the Bank, just as he had hidden everything he possessed from those around him.

  She was thinking that she had been very clever in making herself a member of the family and the new Earl was obviously determined to do what was right.

  Therefore she would receive what he would think was her fair share, but it was not likely to be very large.

  Because he had mentioned luncheon, almost as if he called his servants, the groom, who had come with him, opened the door.

  “I put the food from the picnic basket, my Lord,” he said, “on the dining room table. The trouble be, I can’t find no knives and forks.”

  “I am sure that her Ladyship will know where to find those for us, Harper,” the Earl said.

  Devona stiffened.

  Now she would have to confess that the knives and forks had been stolen and it flashed through her mind that perhaps the Hitchins had not yet reached London.

  “I will go and find them,” she proposed hastily.

  She hurried from the room and went to the kitchen where she found that Harper had lit the stove.

  She knew that there were no knives and forks in the pantry, so she opened a drawer in the kitchen.

  Inside were the knives, forks and spoons the staff had used. They were clean, but not the sort of cutlery that ladies and gentlemen would expect.

  However, she took them into the dining room and put them at their places on the table.

  As she was doing so, the Earl must have followed her into the kitchen to tell her,

  “I have just found an empty box in a safe where the silver cutlery must have been and there is nothing there and I am afraid that they must have been stolen. I suppose the servants took them.”