Pride of the Courtneys (5 page)

Hence her prolonged stay at Courtney Hall. Bassett was not an easy prey and Millicent's marriage contrivances would be long and arduous. I was amused by Millicent's artless flirtations with Bassett.

‘She positively throws herself at him,' as Georgiana remarked to me in disgust. ‘I wonder he can stand it.'

Georgiana had no affection for Millicent, for the latter was indulgent and pleasant towards her merely because she was Bassett's sister and she knew that Bassett loved Georgiana dearly. This was another of her ways of currying favour with Bassett, befriending Georgiana.

But Miss Georgiana, strong-willed and fearless, would have none of Millicent's insincere attempts at friendliness.

Georgiana and I soon became the firmest of friends and I was to find her a great comfort and strength in the months ahead.

There was one and only one point on which we disagreed. She worshipped and idolised Bassett whereas I disliked him. But even this did not seriously impede our friendship. On my side I was only too happy to have such a strong ally and on her side she was confident that it was because I did not know Bassett that I hated him and that as soon as I did, I could not help loving him as she did.

Dr Corby and Evelyn were constant visitors to Courtney Hall. Evelyn, though pleasant enough towards the Courtney family, kept herself aloof, and always had about her an air of sadness.

Georgiana's romantic mind confided to me that she believed Miss Corby must have been disappointed in love.

‘Really, Georgiana,' I admonished with mock severity, ‘ you think of nothing, but love and marriage.' Georgiana's black curls danced merrily.

‘And what, dear Louella, do you consider is more interesting than discussing what is, after all, all we girls have to hope for?'

‘Nonsense,' I retorted, ‘ the times are changing. Many girls earn their own living as governesses—or something,' I ended lamely.

‘Yes, I agree,' she replied, ‘but I have such a feather brain, I cannot remember the simplest lines of poetry, never mind Greek and Latin and arithmetic'

She paused and I did not fail to notice the faint tinge of colour in her cheeks nor the dreamy expression in her eyes as she said,

‘Dr Corby must be very, very clever.'

‘Indeed, medicine is a hard profession, and one, I believe, in which the learning is never ended, for they are always making new discoveries.'

This conversation was taking place in a small summer-house overlooking the lake some two hundred yards from the house, one warm day early in June.

A boat appeared round a curve of the bank some twenty yards out upon the smooth water. Lazily, our conversation ceased and we watched the lithe figure of the oarsman as his firm, clean strokes cut the water and his craft skimmed along leaving ripple upon ripple ever-widening until they lapped softly against the bank.

Hearing Georgiana draw a swift breath, I glanced at her. There was no mistaking the pleasure in her expression and voice as she whispered.

‘It's him, Louella, it's Dr Corby.'

And with that she jumped up, straightened her skirt and walked down the short sloping path to the edge of the lake.

She waited a moment until Dr Corby had seen her, and then she waved. Dr Corby skilfully turned his boat towards the bank and in minutes they had joined me in the summer-house.

I had observed their meeting from a distance, and though his greeting was formal, I did not fail to notice that his eyes rarely left her face, and that she was more radiantly beautiful in his presence.

‘Good day, Miss Lloyd,' he said in greeting.

‘Good day, Dr Corby,' I replied, and we smiled at each other.

I knew he was a friend, for often when he visited Courtney Hall, he would search me out and hold long conversations with me, which I was sure he did out of pity for my lonely existence.

We all sat down in the summer-house, with Dr Corby between us.

‘It is time you called us by our Christian names, Dr Corby,' Georgiana said.

‘Thank you. Nothing would give me greater pleasure, and please call me Charles. But will your mother or Sir Hugh be displeased?'

‘Fie, and I don't care if they are,' she retorted, pouting prettily.

Georgiana made her own decisions, Charles should know by now, I thought. Although she is only young, once she has made up her mind to something, nothing would change her.

And so we passed a pleasant afternoon in Charles Corby's company, but when we returned to the house and he sped away in his boat, I noticed Georgiana seemed subdued and quiet.

‘Is anything wrong, Georgiana?' I asked, for she was never sulky or cross for long, it was not her nature.

Georgiana smiled immediately, but I knew it was an effort. ‘Of course not, how could there be?' And she linked her arm with mine.

As we entered the hall, Bassett was emerging from his study. Georgiana ran to him at once and he swung her round playfully.

I watched them and thought how wonderful it must be to be loved by a brother like Bassett Courtney. I had not only missed the joy of having real parents to bring me up, I thought, I had missed also being part of a family.

‘Bassett,' Georgiana was saying, ‘I have been thinking for some time now, it is time Louella was shown the Courtney dagger, is it not? And you are the one to show her. Will you?'

Bassett turned and smiled at me, his brown eyes kindly.

‘Why, of course, If Louella is interested.'

‘This is the first I have heard of it, but yes, I should like to see it.'

‘We'll go this minute,' cried Georgiana and she dragged Bassett away by his arm. We all laughed and gaily Georgiana led the way to the portrait gallery which she had shown me on the day of my arrival.

We went past the portraits of the Courtney ancestors to a door half-way down one side of the long gallery hidden behind a blue velvet curtain.

Bassett lifted the curtain, opened the door and held it for us to pass into the room.

I gasped as I looked round. The room was filled with priceless silverware, clocks, china and jewellery. I had never seen such valuable articles nor so many all together.

‘These are the Courtney riches in possessions, Louella,' Bassett explained. ‘You will go a long way before you find a larger collection.'

But as he spoke there was no note of pride in his voice as one might expect. He was merely making a statement. He led me to a large glass case at one side of the room. In it were two silver tankards, a gold watch, a silver bracelet, a diamond necklace and one of pearls, and other small articles. But all were overshadowed by a magnificent dagger lying on a black velvet cushion in the centre of the case. It was solid gold with three large rubies on its handle, and six smaller diamonds spaced out down the blade which finished in a wicked point, the sharpness a jewel itself.

‘The Courtney dagger,' Bassett murmured, and this time his tone was full of pride. ‘It is the only thing in this room which I care about, Louella.'

Gently, he unlocked the case and lifted the dagger out. All three of us stared at the beautiful but dangerous weapon.

‘Shouldn't it be locked away somewhere safer than a glass case?' I queried, ‘if it so very valuable.'

Bassett smiled.

‘No one can get into Courtney Hall and as far as this without someone knowing, I am sure,' Bassett said frowning slightly. ‘The only danger comes from those within Courtney Hall itself. But I think the servants are all honest and trustworthy.'

‘Tell her the story about the dagger,' urged Georgiana.

‘Many years ago, almost three hundred, one of our ancestors, Sir William Courtney, went to war for Queen Elizabeth. He won many battles and succeeded in gaining Her Majesty's particular notice. As a token of her gratitude for his bravery and loyalty to her and his country, she presented him with this dagger, saying that he should never let it go from the Courtney family, but that it should be passed down from generation to generation.

‘Over the years, the superstition grew around the Courtney dagger that as long as it was in the possession of the Courtneys they would prosper and flourish, it did not,' Bassett's tone hardened slightly, ‘promise happiness, but one cannot expect everything of it. However, this superstition grew strong amongst the Courtneys, especially when certain happenings seemed to strengthen the idea.

‘A later Courtney, the first Sir William's great grandson, I think, was a philanderer and cared nothing for such superstitions. He landed himself heavily in debt and cared no more than to sell the dagger to help repay his debts.'

Bassett paused.

‘He had reason to regret his hasty and unthinking action. He died a violent death by drowning. His son, realising the folly of his father's ways, worked hard, and although the Courtney estates were in jeopardy, he managed to make enough money to buy back the dagger. He was fortunate to be able to do so. But it happened that the man who had bought it was pleased to be rid of it again, for since he had bought it nothing but misfortune had befallen him.'

‘He lost his son, again by drowning,' put in Georgiana, ‘and being a landowner like the Courtneys, he lost all his crops in a drought, which nearly crippled him, and then the next year, as he had managed to plant more crops, he lost all those in a flood. So the poor man was ruined. Then the superstition really grew strong that if the Courtneys let the dagger go, misfortune will befall them, and whoever takes it from them, the same thing will happen to them—nothing will go right for them until the dagger is returned to the rightful owner, the Courtneys.'

‘And what happened when the dagger was returned to the Courtneys?' I asked.

‘Everything began to go right,' said Georgiana, ‘the Courtneys flourished, and the poor man who was ruined because he had bought it also prospered.'

‘The same sort of thing almost happened more recently,' said Bassett. ‘My grandfather, you have seen his portrait in the gallery, haven't you?'

I nodded.

‘You mean the one like Sir Hugh and Uncle James?'

‘Yes, but he was not like them in character.'

‘No, Georgiana told me,' I replied. ‘But for your grandmother the Courtneys would not be where they are now.'

Bassett smiled, but without humour.

‘In more ways than one, I fear. But to get back to the dagger. My grandfather, Sir James Courtney, worked hard in his youth on the Courtney estate and added considerably to its wealth. He made a brilliant marriage, as they say, meaning my grandmother, Lady Florence Cunningham, was an heiress. In his middle age, though, Sir James grew tired of hard work and went to London to “live” a little.

‘A country gentleman born and bred was no match for the smart set of London and foolish Sir James was soon relieved of his fortune. He sold much of the family wealth and land, including the dagger, before my grandmother found out. Fearing the worst would happen, and in fact distressing incidents did take place …'

Bassett paused momentarily in his tale, and I saw the look which passed between Georgiana and himself, and noticed Georgiana's slight shake of the head, as if to tell Bassett he was treading on dangerous ground, for he cleared his throat and hastened to finish his story.

‘Grandmother used her own money to regain the lost fortune and set the Courtneys to rights, as far as she could. She again managed to recover the dagger from its purchaser, who once more was pleased to be rid of it.'

‘Has it never been stolen?' I remarked, running my fingers idly along the shimmering stones.

‘No, and I pity the thief who does, for he will surely regret it,' said Georgiana fiercely.

‘Do you believe these superstitions, Bassett?' I asked.

‘I don't know really, Louella,' he said thoughtfully, as he replaced the dagger in its glass case. ‘I am not a man who readily believes such fairy stories, but there does seem to be some uncanny power with this small dagger. Still, it is pleasant to think that whilst we have it, we cannot be cast into the streets to live as beggars.'

‘I wish I had something to safeguard me in that way,' I could not stop the words, but immediately I wished I had.

‘Now that is the most foolish remark I have ever heard you utter, Louella,' he said. ‘You seem to have little faith in our desire to help you.'

My heart beat painfully. Bassett was really angry this time. There was nothing I could do but apologise.

‘I'm sorry, I did not mean to be ungrateful, but at times I feel so dependent on you. It is uncomfortable, to say the least.'

‘Then don't feel that way.'

And Bassett left the room quickly.

‘Oh Louella,' moaned Georgiana, ‘you have put your foot in it this time.'

I was distressed, and angry with myself. Although inwardly I had disliked Bassett, and still did, because I owed him so much, at the same time to voice such thoughts was ingratitude in the extreme, and I did not wish to show that.

We left the room of treasures and walking by the portraits of Bassett's grandparents, I looked at them with fresh interest. Grandmother Courtney sitting very erect, was stern and forbidding and so very like Bassett in her expression. But I could see from where Georgiana got her beauty. Although the picture had been painted when Lady Florence was old, there was no mistaking the fine features and proud bearing.

‘There's another picture of her when she was younger,' said Georgiana, ‘Look down here,' and tucked away at the end of the long gallery was a smaller painting of Lady Florence.

‘Why, she looks a different person,' I exclaimed. It was as if Georgiana stared back at me from the canvas. Lady Florence had most certainly been a beautiful woman, but in this portrait she showed none of the hardness which was apparent in the later one.

‘She was lovely in this one, wasn't she?' said Georgiana, ‘I think her unhappy life made her bitter and cynical by the time the other one was painted.'