The Secret Kiss of Darkness (29 page)

When at last he woke up the following day, Kayla was gone, together with all her belongings. He remembered then what it was that had been bothering him. He should have stayed with Kayla, slept in her bed or brought her to his room, but he was so used to going to his own room alone that in his befuddled state it hadn’t occurred to him until afterwards. And now, it seemed, everything was too late.

‘Where did Kayla go?’ he asked a silently weeping Annie, who was busy in the kitchen as usual, although not working at her normal speed.

‘To London. Said she didn’t want to intrude at this sad time.’ Annie turned anguished eyes towards him. ‘I tried to make her stay, honest I did, but she was determined. Said it was best she left, that Nell would hate her for causing her mother’s death, and … oh, I don’t know what else. There was no reasoning with her.’

‘I see.’ Clenching his teeth tightly together, Wes made his way back to his office. First things first. The most important thing was to see to his daughter, then he would let himself think about Kayla.

The Gypsy camp was set up in a small clearing next to a stream, the wagons drawn into a semi-circle for protection. Approaching it on horseback, Jago drew a sigh of relief. It had taken him weeks to track them down and he was weary beyond words. The light from several campfires beckoned, and the soft strains of music could be heard floating through the still night air.

He hadn’t come for the entertainment, however, and upon his arrival made straight for the oldest caravan without speaking to anyone. Painted in bright colours and decorated with exquisite fretwork, he knew that despite its age it was nevertheless the best one of them all. And it housed the woman he had come to see.

She was waiting for him on the tiny back porch, sitting on the step gazing into the distance as if she had all the time in the world. When he came closer, she looked up briefly and smiled.

‘Hello, boy, I’ve been expecting you.’

He bent to kiss her leathery cheek, criss-crossed with wrinkles, but still soft and smooth. ‘Hello, Granny Tess,’ he replied calmly, used to her uncanny ability to foretell events. ‘And do you also know why I have come?’ He tethered his tired horse to a nearby bush.

‘Not this time, young ’un, but I expect you’ll tell me soon enough. Come and have a bite to eat first, you must be famished.’

He smiled at being called ‘boy’ and ‘young’, since he was definitely getting old now, but then his gran was so ancient herself, perhaps he seemed a mere youngster to her. He nodded and followed her over to a small open fire not far from her wagon, where he sank down onto the dry ground next to her. The plate of food she handed him was devoured quickly, then he gave it back to her with a smile and a thank you. They sat in amicable silence for a while and he studied her out of the corner of his eyes. Granny Tess was the closest thing he’d ever had to a mother since she had raised him after his own mother died birthing him, and he loved her. Amazingly wise, she had inherited more than her fair share of mystical gifts from her ancestors, and he had never made the mistake of underestimating her abilities. The matter he needed assistance with this time, however, was different. He tried to find the right words, but found it difficult.

‘I need your help, Granny Tess,’ he finally said. She nodded as if this was a foregone conclusion, and he continued. ‘It concerns the next life, not this one. Do your powers reach that far?’

‘That depends, boy.’ She frowned, putting him in mind of a crinkled old prune. ‘I can’t wake the dead, if that’s what you’re after, although I might be able to communicate with one or two of them. Nor can I change someone’s fate once they are set on their course, only give warning beforehand. What is it you want me to do?’

He hesitated for a moment. Perhaps he was asking the impossible, but it was worth a try. ‘There is someone with whom I wish to be reunited one day, Granny Tess. A woman. She loved me in return, but she’s long gone now. Is there any way …?’

The old Gypsy woman turned his face gently towards the fire and held it still while she peered deep into his eyes. For a long time they sat like that, motionless, while she probed his mind. He didn’t flinch, nor even blink, he was used to her ways and accepted them completely. He even tried to help her by concentrating on her penetrating gaze, as she had taught him when he was a child. Finally, she released him and sighed deeply.

‘You have acted unwisely, but you were guided by love and therefore there is hope. You did right, Jago, to come to me. I think I can help you, but it won’t be easy and there will be certain conditions attached. Are you willing to be patient?’

‘I would wait for all eternity, if necessary.’

She gave a short cackle of laughter. ‘Well, it may not be quite as long as that, but you’re not far off. It’s how it will seem to you. You’re sure this is what you want?’

‘Yes.’ He’d never been more sure of anything in his life, except his love for Eliza. Sophie was gone too now, and Wesley and his half-brothers were all grown men, who no longer needed him. He knew his life was almost at an end and this was all he had left to do.

Granny Tess smiled at him. ‘Very well then, let us begin …’

‘So you’re back at last, but you don’t look very happy. Do I assume you have bad news for me?’

‘No, Jago. No, as a matter of fact I have excellent news for you. I found her, your Eliza. She was in Wes’s room all the time, would you believe it? It was the only place I never thought to look.’

‘Wonderful! And it was as I said? Did you see the proof?’

‘The Shakespeare sonnet you mean? Yes, I saw it.’

‘Excellent. So now you can sell me to Eliza’s owner at enormous profit and everyone will be happy. Why the long face?’

Kayla sighed. ‘It’s a long story, Jago, but don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re reunited with Eliza. Only, I don’t want any payment. In fact, I want to forget you ever existed.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Listen, and I’ll tell you the whole sorry tale.’

A week later Annie came rushing into Wes’s office.

‘There’s an enormous parcel arrived for you. You’d best come and see this for yourself.’

‘A parcel? I haven’t ordered anything.’ Puzzled, Wes followed her into the hall.

‘Took two big men to carry it in, so it did,’ Annie told him.

‘I can see why, but what is it?’

Wes went in search of a crowbar since the so-called parcel wasn’t wrapped in paper, but boxed in wood. It had ‘Fragile’ and ‘Handle With Care’ stamped all over it, so it took him ages to carefully open it. When he finally managed to extricate it from all the bubble wrap inside, Wes whistled softly. He was staring at a huge portrait of a striking man who looked very familiar. He tore open the envelope that was taped to the frame and read the accompanying letter.

Dear Wes,

Please accept this painting as a gift to thank you for my time in Devon, which I enjoyed immensely. The man in the portrait is, I believe, your five times great-grandfather, Jago Kerswell. He had an illicit affair with your ancestor’s wife, Eliza, whose portrait you already own. (She’s the one in your bedroom.) Since they were deeply in love, I think they deserve to be together now, as they never could be in real life. Don’t ask me how I know this, but it’s the truth, and I hope you’re not offended to learn that your lineage is not quite as perfect as the first Sir John would have liked everyone to believe. I enclose a family tree and some other information on your ancestors which you might find interesting. Please, hang the two portraits side by side – that is all I ask.

Give my love to Nell, I miss her terribly. Tell her again how sorry I am for what happened. I hope she can forgive me in time.

Best wishes,

Kayla

Wes studied the portrait of his ancestor and smiled for the first time in days. The resemblance between them was there for anyone to see, and even more so to Alex. He didn’t doubt the truth of Kayla’s claim. He had often looked at the portraits upstairs in the gallery, wondering why they all suddenly became dark and swarthy after a certain date, where before they had all looked pale and blond. He had attributed it to some dark-haired lady, but now he knew the real reason.

‘Why you old devil. So it was all your fault, huh?’ He stared at Jago. ‘Well, thank you. Now I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.’

As he turned to go in search of Nell, he thought for a fleeting moment that he saw an answering grin on Jago’s face, but when he stopped to look again the man was as serious as before. It had only been an illusion, of course. Whistling, he set off down the hall.

Kayla smoothed out an imaginary crease in her formal skirt and made sure the buttons of the matching jacket were all done up properly. When she couldn’t procrastinate any longer, she lifted her hand to ring the bell of Marcombe Hall. She heard it pealing somewhere in the nether regions of the house and suppressed a shiver of apprehension. She probably shouldn’t have come.

But how could she have stayed away?

She glanced a final time at the gilt-edged card in her hand and swallowed down her anxiety. The message was clear and definitely entitled her to be here.

Kayla was so pleased for Jago as this must mean his portrait had finally been hung next to Eliza’s. She just had to see him there, one last time, before she closed this chapter of her life. Then she could move on. Or at least, she hoped so.

The door opened and a young man in smart livery bowed to her and took the invitation card she proffered. She’d never met him before and assumed he must have been hired for the occasion. It was obviously going to be a big do, perhaps even with the local mayor present or some other dignitaries. The flutter of nerves in her stomach subsided a little. She could hide in a crowd. Good.

‘Please follow me,’ the young man said, and led the way up the staircase. He pointed towards the long gallery. ‘The reception is in there, madam.’

‘Thank you.’

Kayla heard the soft strains of classical music and was impressed. It would seem Wes had pulled out all the stops for the occasion, even going so far as to hire musicians. There would probably be caterers and formal waiters too, if the young man in the hall was anything to go by. She was glad he was going to so much trouble on Jago’s behalf. If he was still listening, the old reprobate should be pleased to be causing such a stir.

When she entered the long gallery, however, she came to a halt. She could still hear music playing from somewhere, but there were no musicians in the room. Nor were there any waiting staff, only a couple of tables covered with white cloths and with champagne in buckets, crystal glasses and trays of canapés set out. And worst of all, there wasn’t a soul in there apart from her.

Kayla did a three sixty degree turn. No one at all.

Her eyes were drawn to the two huge portraits that now hung side by side on one wall. ‘Hello,’ she whispered, but felt silly talking to a painting here. Jago’s enigmatic smile was in place and she thought she saw his mouth twitch, but he didn’t reply. She hadn’t expected him to. Not in public. Although there was no public right now, which was very odd.

‘Where is everyone?’

Again, no reply, and Kayla was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Surely she couldn’t be the first guest to arrive? She checked her watch. It was ten past three – she’d arrived fashionably late on purpose, in order to blend in with the crowd.

She frowned. What the hell was going on?

Just then someone entered from a side door and walked towards her. ‘Kayla. You came.’

The familiar voice set Kayla’s heart thumping so hard she could barely reply. Wes. She’d missed him. Oh, how she’d missed him and seeing him now, at last, was making her feel breathless. Just the sight of him melted her insides and the composure she’d been so sure she’d be able to hang onto flew out the window.
Damn.

‘Uhm, yes. Yes, of course I came. I wanted to see Jago and Eliza … I mean, hanging together.’ The swirling in her stomach was making her incoherent so she stopped talking and just watched Wes.

Why hadn’t he called her? Texted? Or something. She hadn’t heard a word for two whole weeks, apart from a short note thanking her for the painting and saying he’d ‘be in touch shortly’. Then the formal invite.

He came to a stop in front of her and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. He looked amazing in a charcoal grey suit – designer if she wasn’t mistaken – and matching shirt and tie. The stubble on the lower half of his face – also designer? – made Kayla want to reach out and touch him, but she put her hands behind her back to resist the temptation. His eyes were a vibrant blue, as always, but with a slightly guarded expression. She swallowed hard and looked away. So he was dressed for the occasion. But what occasion? They were still the only people here.

‘You look lovely,’ he said. ‘Formal clothes suit you.’

‘Thank you, but I’m beginning to wonder if I should have bothered. What’s going on, Wes? Is this some kind of joke?’

He shook his head. ‘No, not a joke. It seemed the only way to get you to come back though. You appeared determined to stay in London. You didn’t so much as call to see how Nell was, but I figured you might come and check on your painting.’ He frowned slightly.

‘Me? But I was waiting for you to call,’ Kayla blurted out. ‘I thought you’d let me know if she could bear to see me. And I didn’t want to intrude. She’d had a shock after all and these things can take time.’

‘Really?’ Wes’s expression cleared and he smiled at last. ‘Thank God for that.’

‘What do you mean? I caused Caro’s death. I deprived Nell of a mother. Have you told her? I should have listened to you, but I—’

Wes held up a hand to stop her torrent of words. ‘None of it was your fault. I thought I made that clear? Nell doesn’t blame you and neither do I. Caro brought it on herself. Nell is a little too young to understand right now, but when she’s older I will explain about the drugs and everything. At the moment she’s absolutely fine and waiting to see you. If that’s what you want too?’

‘Of course I do. I’ve missed her.’ She didn’t add, ‘and you’.

Wes turned and called out, ‘Nell! It’s okay, you can come out now.’

The little girl came rushing out of door at the far end of the gallery and ran towards them. She threw her arms round Kayla’s legs until Kayla hunkered down to hug her properly.

‘Kayla, Kayla, I’ve missed you so much! Why didn’t you say you were leaving?’

Kayla blinked to stop from crying. ‘I’ve missed you too, sweetheart, and, er, I was called away suddenly. There was something I had to do.’ She looked up at the little girl’s father, who nodded as if he approved of this white lie.

‘Have you finished doing that now then?’ Nell wanted to know. ‘So you can stay here?’

‘Er, well …’ Kayla was floundering, not sure what to say next, but Wes came to her rescue.

‘Let Kayla stand up, Nell. Remember what I told you?’

Nell’s eyes twinkled with mischief and she giggled. ‘Yes, Daddy.’

‘Okay then, are you ready?’ Wes looked at his daughter and held out one hand to her. ‘On the count of three, right?’

Nell nodded. ‘One, two,
three
.’

The two of them dropped down on one knee in front of Kayla and said, in unison,
‘Please will you marry us? We love you!’

Wes withdrew his other hand from his trouser pocket and held out an old-fashioned jeweller’s box. Inside, nestled on white velvet, was an exquisite antique ring, made up of a thick band of gold set with a dark purple amethyst surrounded by diamonds in the shape of two hearts. It was the most beautiful thing Kayla had ever seen and she gasped.

She stared into Wes’s eyes and saw the love shining in their blue depths. It made her want to cry with happiness, but she realised that he – and Nell – were still waiting for an answer. ‘Yes, please,’ she whispered, her voice a mere thread because her throat was so clogged with emotion. ‘If you’re both sure?’

Wes stood up. ‘We’ve never been more sure of anything, isn’t that right, Nell?’

Nell was by now dancing around them, jumping from one foot to the other with excitement. ‘Mm-hmm, that’s right, Daddy. Come on, do the ring thing like they do in Disney movies.’

Wes laughed and took the ring out of its box, slipping it onto the fourth finger of Kayla’s left hand. It was a snug fit, as if it had always belonged there.

‘It’s perfect,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘Are
you
absolutely sure?’ he asked. ‘You can see what you’re letting yourself in for.’ He nodded in Nell’s direction. ‘It won’t exactly be a bed of roses.’

Kayla smiled mistily. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ she told him. ‘I love you. Both of you,’ she amended and laughed at Nell’s antics.

‘I, or should I say we, love you too.’ He kissed her as if he would never let her go, but his daughter had other ideas. She tugged at his jacket.

‘Now that’s sorted, can we eat? I’m hungry. Please, Daddy? Please? You promised.’

Wes reluctantly stopped kissing Kayla. ‘There’s no peace for the wicked,’ he sighed, ‘as I’m sure my ancestor Jago found out.’

Kayla laughed. ‘Oh, believe you me, he may have been wicked, but he is at peace now. Truly at peace.’

She glanced over Wes’s shoulder, up at the two portraits, and saw Jago’s smile broaden in agreement. He winked at her and nodded towards Eliza. When Kayla looked at her she saw the woman’s lips move and a faint whisper reached her. ‘Thank you, we’ll be eternally grateful.’

‘What was that? Did you say something?’ Wes had been concentrating on trying to calm Nell down and turned to look at Kayla.

‘Just that I can’t believe I can be this lucky.’

He kissed her again and pulled her close. ‘I’m the lucky one and I’m not letting you go, ever. We’ll be together for all eternity.’

Just like Eliza and Jago, at last.