The Castle of Love (9 page)

Her own loud cries of despair frightened her. She turned and buried her face in the pillow. The pillow was soon drenched with tears.

As if in a sad mirror to her mood, heavy rain began to fall on the castle, the garden, the wood, the copse.

Jacina barely heard it. She barely heard the wind rising, carrying more rain-swollen clouds over the neighbouring crags.

 The wind tugged at the catch that she had not quite fastened when she closed the window earlier that night. The catch loosened and the window swung wide.

Chill air began to seep into the room.

Jacina did not notice. She lay in a daze, the world a shadow to her. She did not notice how numb her feet became in her damp boots. She did not notice how her fingers turned to ice.

She did not notice how, as the night wore on, fever took its burning grip upon her brow.

*

Steeple bells echoed through the frosty air. It was morning. Raindrops glistened on the boughs of trees. Pale yellow sunlight filled the sky and filtered through the stained glass windows of the Ruven family Chapel, where guests had gathered for the wedding.

The wedding of the Earl of Ruven and Felice Delisle.

The Earl stood waiting at the altar. Tall and straight, he never once turned to look at the congregation. He seemed lost in his own thoughts.

Sarah sat at the back of the Chapel, turning her head every time someone entered from the porch. She was looking for Jacina. Jacina had left the nursery last night determined to go to the Earl with her story. She had not returned to tell Sarah what had happened. Sarah did not for one moment doubt that Jacina had indeed gone to the Earl.

Why then was the wedding still taking place?

Perhaps the Earl was going to make an announcement at the altar? Sarah dismissed that idea as soon as it entered her head. The Earl was a gentleman. He would never humiliate Felice publicly.

The truth must be that he was so smitten with his fiancée that he was prepared to marry her no matter what.

 Sarah sighed. Then she turned her head at the sound of whispering by the Chapel door.

Felice Deslisle was entering on the arm of Monsieur Fronard.

A gasp swept round the congregation at the sight of Felice. Even Sarah had to admit that she looked beautiful. She was wearing a white satin dress with a long train. Her veil was held in place with a sparkling tiara and the Ruven diamonds gleamed about her long neck.

At the altar the Earl stiffened. He could hear the rustling of Felice's train over the old stones of the aisle. He could also hear the steady tread of Fronard.

Fronard delivered the bride to the altar. Then he stepped into a front pew.

Sarah watched the ceremony quietly. Her lips pursed when the Earl slipped the ring on his bride's finger.

Felice lifted her veil to receive a kiss. Then the couple turned and started back down the aisle. Sarah noticed that as Felice passed Fronard she threw him a quick glance. Her eyes glittered like the diamonds at her throat. Beside her the Earl's face was set and unsmiling.

The Chapel bells began to ring, loud and clear in jubilation.

*

In her room at Castle Ruven, Jacina opened her eyes.

Why were bells ringing? Was there a wedding? She seemed to remember someone had said there was going to be a wedding. She tried to raise her head, but there was no strength in her at all. Her head fell back on the pillow. Her breath came in gasps.

Where was her father? He should be told that she did

not feel well. Her head was so hot, so very hot. Yet her limbs felt leaden with cold.

 Where was she? She was not at home. No, she was – in a castle. She remembered now. In a castle. Who else was here? Servants. Yes, there were servants. And someone called Sarah. There were other people too – she did not want to remember – she would not remember.

She fell into a doze. Then she was awake again. She had heard the sound of wheels and horses neighing. Perhaps it was Papa. Oh, she would be so happy to see Papa.

Then came the sound of cheers. No, it could not be Papa, they would not be cheering for Papa. So who was it? Who was it being welcomed so noisily below?

An unbidden image floated before her of a tall, dark man with a bride on his arm. Jacina's head thrashed to and fro on the pillow as if to chase the image from her. She did not want to think about it. Her head was too hot to think. Thoughts hurt her brain. Better to sleep. Just sleep.

Jacina did not know how long she slept. When she woke again, she woke because a hand was on her brow and a face was bending over her.

"Mercy me, mercy me," someone was saying.

The room was bright. It had the feeling of early afternoon.

Jacina felt a cool flannel pressed to her forehead. Slowly the figure above her swam into focus and she recognised Sarah.

"Sarah – I tried – the Earl did not believe me – not believe me – "

"Hush now, my lovely. Hush now. You are not at all well."

Jacina felt Sarah lift her head and urge a beaker to her lips. Jacina took a few sips of a bitter liquid and then sank back upon the pillows.

Sarah asked Nancy to light a fire in the hearth. Then she got Jacina out of her dress – muddied at the hem from her nocturnal slide into the ditch – and into a clean night-gown.

 Jacina was barely aware of all this.

Sarah lay Jacina down and tucked the counterpane around her. She then drew a chair up beside the bed and settled down to keep watch.

Sometimes Jacina slept. Sometimes she started up with a cry or spoke incoherent thoughts.

Afternoon faded into dusk. Still Sarah sat on. A frown creased her forehead, as she listened to Jacina's ramblings. Finally she seemed to come to some decision. When Jacina drifted into an uneasy sleep, Sarah tiptoed quietly from the room.

A misty moon rose at the window.

Jacina's eyes opened. She saw the moon and wondered if it was a lamp placed on the sill. There was another lamp shining by the bedside. All seemed a shadow, nothing was real. She turned her head on the pillow as the door was pushed gently open to the sound of someone speaking.

"Where have you brought me, Sarah? Are we in the nursery? No, we can't be, we did not climb that high."

It was the Earl's voice.

Jacina heard it dimly. She recognised it as a voice that had caused her pain. She closed her eyes. She wanted to drift away again into a quiet, dark repose.

Sarah answered the Earl. "That's right, we are not in the nursery, Master Hugo. Be patient and you shall know all."

The Earl's tone was bemused. " I came as you bid, but you must remember the ball begins in less than an hour. I have much to do. What game are you playing with your old charge?"

"It is no game," said Sarah grimly. "Come forward, sir. Give me your hand." Gently but firmly, Sarah guided the hand of the Earl and laid it on Jacina's hot brow.

 The Earl gave a start. "What's this?"

"Your handiwork, Master Hugo."

"What do you mean? Who lies here?"

"Jacina," said Sarah quietly.

"Jacina!" cried the Earl, pulling away his hand.

His voice was so close now, so loud, that it shattered Jacina's numbed sensibilities. She knew in an instant who was there beside her.

"My – Lord – " she mumured.

The Earl gave a groan and staggered back.

"She is sick, Master Hugo," said Sarah. "Sick with despair. She came to me last night with what she had seen. She didn't know what to do, poor creature. T'was I who told her to go to you. I, who've had my own suspicions about Felice Delisle. Why should I, your old Nanny, wish you harm? I believed and continue to believe Jacina. She has the truest heart of any I know. And you – a clumsy brute, though it do hurt me to say it and though the saying of it should lose me the roof over my head – you have broke that heart cruelly."

The Earl gave another groan and covered his face with his hand.

Jacina tried to raise herself in the bed. "My – Lord – I did not want – to hurt you. I did not – "

The Earl felt for her hand.

"Be calm, now, Jacina. Be calm. I was angry with you but I am angry no longer. I believe you." He turned to Sarah. "Have you given her anything for this fever?"

"I have. I will give her more now. It is a potion that works wonders."

The Earl nodded. "Good. We will speak more but now I must go. The guests are arriving."

 He quickly kissed Jacina's hand before laying it gently down. He then found his way to the door and opened it. His valet stood waiting outside to guide him downstairs.

"Master Hugo," Sarah called after him.

The Earl half turned. "Yes, Sarah?"

"What will you do, sir, about this business?"

The Earl's voice was like steel as he replied. "Rest assured, Sarah, I will deal with the matter. I will deal with the matter this very night."

With that, the door closed behind him.

 Jacina lay listening as the musicians tuned their instruments in the ballroom below.

The wedding party in the morning was small, as the Earl had wished, but the ball that evening would be well attended. All the most prominent families of the district were invited.

Coaches were already rolling up to the castle entrance. There were squeals as ladies gathered up their skirts and hurried to come in out of the rain that had begun to fall.

Jacina turned her head on her pillow and sighed.

Her fever had abated since the visit of the Earl. This was partly due to the bitter black potion Sarah had administered and partly due to her enormous relief of spirits, once she knew that the Earl now believed her.

She had even begun to feel hungry and Sarah had immediately gone to the kitchen to order her some soup.

The orchestra below struck up a waltz. As Jacina watched the firelight shadows on the wall, they appeared to dance in time to the music. She wished she was recovered enough to go to the ball. Then her brow knit with concern.

The music was playing and the guests were arriving, but that did not mean all was well!

She had dimly registered the Earl's parting words. "I

will deal with the matter this very night." Now these words began to haunt her.

 In what way would the Earl deal with the matter? What could he possibly do tonight when the castle was so full of guests?

If Felice was in love with Fronard – as she surely was – then why had she still resolved to marry the Earl? The injuries he sustained in India had provided her with the perfect excuse to withdraw from the marriage had she so wished.

If Fronard was in love with Felice – as he surely was – then why was he happy to see her married off to someone other than himself?

Could it be that they simply planned to continue their liaison after the marriage, whilst at the same time enjoying all the comforts that the wealth of the Earl would provide?

At this moment the door opened and Nancy entered, her face bright red from having run all the way up from the kitchen with her message.

"I'm to tell you, miss, that Sarah's decided to make up a broth from fresh. So she'll be a half hour more."

"Thank you, Nancy. Are you busy below?"

"Oh, miss, it's bedlam. It's all got to be ready for supper at nine. What a feast they'll have though! There's wild boar – it's been roasting on a spit all day – and pheasant and jugged hare and oysters. I sneaked away one of them oysters to have a taste but I didn't like it, miss. It were just a mouthful of seawater."

As she chattered Nancy began to sway to the strains of the waltz floating up from the ballroom.

"Ooh, miss, aren't them tunes lovely? There's not been a ball here since I came. The old Earl didn't go in for them."

"Have you seen the ballroom, Nancy?" Jacina asked.

 "I peeped in through the French windows from the garden, miss. It's like a fairy-tale. There's hundreds of candles in them – candelabras – and there's a gold saucer round each candle to catch the drips. Which is a good thing. I heard at the Duchess of Marlcombe's ball the wax dripped onto the bare shoulders of the ladies below and scalded them something awful."

"Did you see the Earl and his – his wife there?"

"They were greeting guests, miss, at the door. I'd have liked to stay longer but that Monsewer appeared. He lit a cigar and stood there smoking and watching through the windows too. I crept away. I didn't want him seeing me. He's a skulker, he is. I was polishing silver in the pantry this morning and there he was skulking inside the gunroom!"

Jacina sat up with a jolt.

"The gunroom?"

"Yes, miss."

"Did he – did he take a pistol or anything?"

"I didn't see one on him, miss, but what else was he in there for? I don't trust him one bit, I'd – Oh, Miss Jacina!" Nancy's hand flew to her mouth. " Miss Jacina, what are you doing?"

Jacina had pushed back the bedclothes and slid her legs to the floor. "Getting up," she said firmly.

"But what for?" cried Nancy.

"To go – to the ball," replied Jacina. She hoped she sounded stronger than she felt.

"You can't do that, miss!" exclaimed Nancy.

"I can and – I will," said Jacina. "But you must – help me. Before Sarah comes. Would you bring me – my dress from the wardrobe? Please!"

Nancy hesitated. Then she went to the wardrobe and

opened it. "Which one, miss?"

 Jacina was struggling out of her nightgown. "My best. The blue muslin."

Nancy brought the dress over to Jacina.

"Help me put it on," urged Jacina.

She held up her arms. Nancy slipped the muslin dress over her head and then started fastening the hooks.

"Hurry, Nancy. Hurry."

"It's these hooks, miss. My fingers is all thumbs!"

At last it was done. Jacina moved unsteadily to the pier glass to take a look. She was shocked at what she saw. Her hair was tangled. Her cheeks and lips were pale as chalk. Her eyes held no lustre.

She picked up her hairbrush for an instant and then put it down. It could not be helped. She had no time to prettify herself. Sarah might return at any moment and Jacina knew she did not have the strength to defy the old Nanny in person.