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Authors: Victoria Holt

Tags: #Cornwall, #Gothic, #Romance, #Suspense, #Thriller

Legend of the Seventh Virgin (25 page)

BOOK: Legend of the Seventh Virgin
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“I don’t trust you.”

“We’ve got to trust each other. I’ll marry you. I’ll get the special licence. I swear it.”

“How do I know …?”

“Look. You know what’s happened. We’ll be together. Once it’s done, it’s done. I’ll marry you, Kerensa.”

“I want time to think about it.”

“I’ll give you till four. Be ready. We’re leaving then. I’m going to pack some things. You do the same. Then we’ll take the trap to the station … in time for the train.”

“This is madness,” I said.

He caught me to him and I could not understand the embrace he gave me; it was made up of desire, passion, and perhaps hatred. “It’s the way you want it. It’s the way I want it.”

Then he left me.

I sat by the window. I thought of the humiliation of the evening. I thought of the fulfillment of my dream. It could come true the way I had dreamed it.

I wasn’t in love with Johnny. But some sensuality in him touched something in me. I was meant to marry and bear children — children who would be St. Larnstons.

Already the dream was becoming more ambitious. Justin and Judith had no child. I saw my son: Sir Justin. I, the mother of the heir to the Abbas!

Anything was worth while for that. Marriage with Johnny — anything.

I sat down and wrote a letter to Mellyora; I enclosed one which I asked her to give to Granny.

I had made up my mind.

So I left on the five-o’clock train for Plymouth.

Johnny was as good as his word, and shortly afterwards I became Mrs. Johnny St. Larnston.

{ 4 }

T
he days that followed our flight from the Abbas still seem something like a dream to me; and it was only weeks afterwards when I returned to the Abbas as Mrs. St. Larnston, needing all my strength to fight for the place I intended to have, that life took on reality.

I was not afraid on the day we returned; there was scarcely any room for any feeling but triumph. It was Johnny who was afraid; I was to learn that I had married a weakling.

During that early morning journey to Plymouth I had made my plans. I was determined not to return to the Abbas until I was Mrs. St. Larnston, and I was determined to return to the Abbas. I need not have worried. Johnny made no attempt to evade his promise; in fact he seemed as eager for the ceremony as I was, and was even prepared to keep his distance until it was over; and then we had a few days’ honeymoon in a Plymouth hotel.

Honeymooning with Johnny was an experience I do not particularly care to recall even now. Ours was a partnership purely of the senses. I had no real love for him, nor he for me. Perhaps he had a grudging admiration for my tenacity; there were times when I believed he was glad of my strength; but ours was a physical relationship which for those first weeks was satisfying enough for us not to examine too closely the situation in which we had put ourselves.

For me this was the culmination of my most cherished dream; and out of these dreams had grown a new and more ambitious one — I longed passionately for a child; my whole body cried out for a child! A boy who would be the heir of St. Larnston — my son, a baronet. During those days and nights in the Plymouth hotel, when for Johnny and me there seemed to be no meaning in life beyond our passion, I was wildly and hilariously happy because I sensed a growing power within me. I could make my dreams come true. I was determined to conceive without delay; I could not wait to hold my son in my arms.

I did not tell Johnny of this; aware of my need which equaled his for me, he completely misconstrued my passion; but it ignited his and he repeated to me often his pleasure in me. “I regret nothing … nothing,” he cried; and he laughed, reminding me of my aloofness towards him. “You’re a witch, Kerensa,” he told me. “I always believed you were. That Grandmother of yours is one and you’re the same. All the time you were as mad for me as I was for you although you treated me as if you loathed me. What about that parson now, eh?”

“Don’t be too sure of yourself, Johnny,” I warned him.

And he laughed at me and made love to me and I would never hold back because I would say to myself: Perhaps my son will be conceived now.

Johnny could abandon himself to the moment without thought of the future; I understood later that this characteristic was the source of all his troubles. During those weeks in Plymouth we were the newly married couple reveling in the possession of each other; he did not give a thought to our return until the day before we left for the Abbas.

Johnny had written to his brother telling him that we were returning and asking that Polore be sent to the station to meet us.

I shall never forget stepping out of the train. I was wearing a traveling suit of green velours cloth trimmed with black braid; and my bonnet was of a matching green with black ribbons. Johnny had bought these clothes for me and he declared that in the appropriate garments, which he intended I should have, I should put Judith in the shade.

Johnny seemed to hate his family, but I understood that was because at this time he was afraid of them. It was typical of Johnny to hate what he feared. Sometimes he would make allusions to our relationship which baffled me. I had forced him to this step, he told me, but he didn’t think he was going to be sorry after all. We understood each other. We would stand by each other; and we had learned, had we not, that we were necessary to each other?

Polore’s manner was subdued as he greeted us. After all, what did one say to a woman who had sat at the servants’ table and suddenly becomes one of the ladies of the house? Polore was quite at a loss.

“Good day, Mr. Johnny, sir. Good day … er … Ma’am.”

“Good day Polore.” I had set the tone. “I hope all is well at the Abbas?”

Polore gave me a sidelong glance. I could imagine him repeating the incident over supper tonight; I could hear Mrs. Rolt’s “My dear life” and Mrs. Salt’s “I ain’t been so shook, m’dear, since ’e come home in a mood one night …”

But the gossip at the servants’ table was no longer my concern.

We clop-clopped along the road and there was the Abbas looking more wonderful than it ever had before because I now had a share in it.

When he pulled up before the portico, Polore told us that old Lady St. Larnston had ordered that as soon as we arrived we were to be taken to her.

Johnny was a little tense but I held my head high. I wasn’t afraid. I was Mrs. St. Larnston now.

Sir Justin and Judith were with her; they looked at us in astonishment as we entered.

“Come here, Johnny,” said Lady St. Larnston; and as Johnny walked across the room to her chair I was beside him.

She was quivering with indignation and I could imagine how she had felt when she had first heard the news. She did not look at me but I knew she had to fight hard to prevent herself from doing so. In my new clothes I felt ready to face them all.

“After all the trouble you have caused,” she went on, her voice quavering, “and now … this. I can only be glad that your father is not here to see this day.”

“Mother, I …” began Johnny.

But she held up a hand to silence him.

“Never in my life has a member of my family so disgraced the name of St. Larnston.”

I spoke then. “There is no disgrace, Lady St. Larnston. We are married. I can prove that to you.”

“I was hoping it was another of your escapades, Johnny,” she said, ignoring me. “This is worse than I expected.”

Sir Justin had come to stand beside his mother’s chair; he laid a hand on her shoulder as he said calmly: “Mother, what is done is done. Let us make the best of it. Kerensa, I welcome you into the family.”

There was no welcome in his face; I could see he was as horrified by the marriage as his mother was. But Justin was a man who would always choose the peaceful way. By marrying a servant in his mother’s house Johnny had created a scandal but the best way of subduing that scandal was to pretend it didn’t exist.

I almost preferred Lady St. Larnston’s attitude.

Judith came to support her husband. “You are right, darling. Kerensa is a St. Larnston now.”

Her smile was warmer. All she wanted from the St. Larnstons was Justin’s complete and undivided attention.

“Thank you,” I said. “We are rather tired after our journey. I should like to wash. The trains are so dirty. And, Johnny, I should like some tea.”

They were all looking at me in astonishment and I believe that I had Lady St. Larnston’s grudging admiration and that while she was furious with Johnny for marrying me, she could not help admiring me for forcing him to it.

“There’s a great deal I shall have to say to you.” Lady St. Larnston was looking at Johnny.

I put in: “We can talk later.” Then I smiled at my mother-in-law. “We do need that tea.”

I slipped my arm through Johnny’s and because they were all so astonished I had time to draw him from the room before they could reply.

We went to his room and there I rang the bell.

Johnny looked at me with the same expression I had seen on the faces of his family, but before he had time to comment Mrs. Rolt had arrived. I guessed she had not been far off during that interview with the family.

“Good day, Mrs. Rolt,” I said. “We should like tea sent up at once.”

She gaped at me for a second and then she said: “Er … yes … Ma’am.”

I could picture her returning to the kitchen where they would be waiting for her.

Johnny leaned against the door; then he burst out laughing.

“A witch!” he cried. “I’ve married a witch.”

I was longing to see Granny, but my first interview was with Mellyora.

I went along to her room; she was expecting me, but when I opened the door she merely stared at me with something near horror in her eyes.

“Kerensa!” she cried.

“Mrs. St. Larnston,” I reminded her with a laugh.

“You really
have
married Johnny!”

“I have the marriage lines if you wish to see them.” I held out my left hand on which the plain gold band was evident.

“How could you!”

“Is it so hard to understand? This changes everything. No more Carlee, do this … do that. I am my ex-mistress’ sister-in-law. I’m her ladyship’s daughter-in-law. Think of that. Poor little Kerensa Carlee, the girl from the cottages. Mrs. St. Larnston, if you please.”

“Kerensa, sometimes you frighten me.”

“I frighten you?” I looked boldly into her face. “There is no need for you to be afraid for me.
I
can look after myself.”

She flushed, for she knew I was hinting that perhaps she could not.

Her lips tightened and she said: “So it would seem. And now you are no longer a lady’s maid. Oh, Kerensa, was it worth it?”

“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“But I thought you hated him.”

“I don’t hate him any more.”

“Because he offered you a position you could accept?”

There was a tinge of sarcasm in her voice which I resented.

“At least,” I said, “he was free to marry me.”

I flounced out of the room but after a few minutes I went back. I had caught Mellyora off her guard; she was lying on her bed with her face buried in the pillows. I threw myself down beside her. I could not bear that we should not be friends.

“It’s like it used to be,” I said.

“No … It’s quite different.”

“The positions are reversed, that’s all. When I was at the parsonage you looked after me. Well, now it will be my turn to look after you.”

“No good will come of this.”

“You wait and see.”

“If you loved Johnny …”

“There are all sorts of love, Mellyora. There’s love … sacred and profane.”

“Kerensa, you sound so … flippant.”

“It’s often a good way to be.”

“I can’t believe you. What has happened to you, Kerensa?”

“What has happened to us both?” I asked.

Then we lay still on the bed and we were both wondering what the outcome of her love for Justin would be.

I could scarcely wait to see Granny and ordered Polore to drive me to the cottage the next day. How I enjoyed alighting, dressed in my green and black. I told him to return for me in an hour.

BOOK: Legend of the Seventh Virgin
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