Haunted

by Barbara Cartland

  Then, as the Marquis sat down on the bed, she burst into tears.

  His arms went around her and he held her close against him saying quietly,

  “It’s all right. Mimosa! It is all over! Both you and Jimmy are safe now.”

  He realised as he spoke that she was past hearing or understanding anything he said.

  She was crying tempestuously like a child who had lost control and was only aware of her own misery.

  The Marquis could feel her tears seeping through his fine linen shirt, but there was nothing he could do but hold her, so that he felt safe because he was there.

  “It is all right!” he said again. “You have been very very brave, but now you must forget that all this ever happened.”

  Slowly, and it took a long time, her weeping began to subside and her tears were no longer so violent.

  “It is all over!” the Marquis reiterated.” Now I shall be able to see you smiling and happy without that worried look in your eyes, which has been there ever since we first met,”

  There was a little pause and then Mimosa asked,

  “Is – is he – dead?”

  “I hope so!” the Marquis replied savagely. “But it will be more convenient for everybody and will save a lot of unpleasant questions if he can be found somewhere else than on my estate. We shall know more when Henson comes back.”

  “H-he – terrified me said in a very small voice. “He is – horrible – disgusting!”

  “I know,” the Marquis agreed, “but I arrived in time and all you have to do now is to forget that he ever touched you.”

  Mimosa shivered.

  It shook her whole body and the Marquis went on,

  “Just understand that he is mad, deranged and an animal who did know what he was doing.”

  “H-he said – I had to – marry him – ”

  The Marquis stiffened in astonishment.

  “Marry him? But why?

  “So that – he could be Jimmy’s legal Guardian – until such time as he decided – to k-kill him!”

  The Marquis reflected that this was something he had not anticipated.

  He blamed himself for not having been quick enough to foresee such a dastardly idea, for, if Norton Field could gain complete power over Jimmy, he could then plan with very little difficulty how to become, as he intended, the fifth Earl of Petersfield.

  Aloud to soothe Mimosa he said,

  “Whatever plans he had can be forgotten and you know, Mimosa, that he will never trouble you again. Of that I am certain!”

  Mimosa could only cling to him.

  Then she whispered,

  “He – said that after tonight – I would be obliged to m-marry him – as I would have – no choice. Then he flung himself on me, but – but – I did not understand – what he m-meant.”

  The Marquis was still for a moment as he realised that in her innocence Mimosa honestly had no idea what Norton Field had intended to do.

  She was only disgusted and horrified by the fact that he had been tearing at her nightgown and touching her naked body.

  Because he did not want her to go on puzzling over something that no one had explained to her, he said soothingly,

  “Field has a reputation for being a roué and I can only imagine that tonight, after telling that you he intended to marry you, he found you so attractive that he did not wish to wait to kiss you.”

  “He did not – k-kiss me!” Mimosa stammered. “He just tore my nightgown – and lay on – t-top of me!”

  “You must not think about it any more,” the Marquis said. “He must have had too much to drink and anyway he is a man who has no idea of how to behave like a gentleman, apart from the fact that he was intent on committing a murder!”

  He knew that Mimosa was still puzzled and he said,

  “You have been so brave up to now and I don’t know any woman who would have behaved so splendidly as you have done, especially after having been gagged, bound and shut up in that horsebox.”

  “I was so – frightened!” Mimosa said. “But not as terrified as I was with – Cousin Norton just now.”

  The Marquis could understand what she was feeling and he knew that he had to reassure her.

  “If you go to pieces now, what shall I do about Jimmy?” he asked. “You have to be brave not only for your own sake but also for his. Never mind if it seems rather improper that we should celebrate the fact that your cousin is finally disposed of and that we can be certain that we will not have to worry about him in the future.”

  He paused before he said in a lighter and slightly teasing tone,

  “I cannot believe that you have any more cousins who are equally abominable?”

  “No, of course not!” Mimosa said. “And it has just occurred to me that it would be a mistake to – upset Jimmy. He must not know what – happened here tonight.”

  “I was thinking that it would be best to prevent anyone from knowing,” the Marquis said. “I am going to look out of the window, Mimosa, and see if I can see anything.”

  The Marquis took his arms from her and, as she moved back against her pillows, she did so reluctantly.

  Then, as he rose from the bed, he drew the sheets that Norton Field had pulled away back over her and knew, although it was dark, that she pulled them up to her chin.

  He walked to the window, but could see no sign of Norton Field on the ground below, nor of Henson for that matter.

  He had fancied, however, that he had heard, while Mimosa was crying in his arms, the sound of wheels moving away.

  As he thought about it, there was a knock at the door and before he could answer, Henson came into the bedroom.

  “It’s all right, my Lord.”

  “What have you done?” the Marquis asked.

  Henson joined him at the window.

  “When I gets to ’im, ’e was breathin’ but unconscious, my Lord. But I thinks ’e’d broken ’is back and one of ’is arms and there were a nasty gash on ’is forehead where he’d ’it the ground, which was pourin’ blood all down ’is face.”

  The Marquis did not speak, but was listening as Henson went on,

  “I lifts ’im into ’is carriage and there was only one ’orse and an elderly man to drive ’im who asks me what’s ’appened.

  ‘Your Master’s ’ad an accident,’ I replied. ‘Get ‘im back to where you’re stayin’ and send for a doctor and ’urry up about it!’”

  Henson’s voice changed as he added,

  “’E drove off quick, my Lord, but I wouldn’t mind bettin’ that Mr. Field won’t be alive when he reaches ’is destination.”

  “Good!” the Marquis exclaimed. “Who knows what has happened except ourselves?”

  “No one, my Lord,” Henson replied. “There is nobody as sleeps in the front of the ’ouse as your Lordship well knows. All the staff windows open in the other direction.”

  The Marquis nodded and Henson went on,

  “The groom, or whoever the man be who’s drivin’ Mr. Field, may try to accuse us, but we can just deny it and it’ll be ’is word against ours.”

  “Thank you, Henson. You have been excellent, as always!” the Marquis said.

  Henson grinned and went through the communicating door of the boudoir.

  The Marquis lit a candle by the bedside and then walked across the room to pull the curtains.

  When he turned again, all he could see of Mimosa was her eyes, very large, looking at him from above the sheet he had covered her with.

  “I-I heard what Henson told you,” she said as he sat down again beside her, “so there is – nothing now to – worry about.”

  “There is nothing to upset you any longer,” the Marquis confirmed.

  “I can hardly believe it!” Mimosa whispered.

  “You will believe it in the morning when you find the world a much cleaner place now your cousin is no longer in it.”

  “And Jimmy – is safe.”

  “Yes, of course, Jimmy is safe and so are you!”
>
  He then added,

  “When I have gone, blow out the candle and try to get some sleep. Just remember, if anything should frighten you, Jimmy and I are only two doors away from you.”

  She smiled at him and he knew now it did not demand the effort it had before.

  “You – s-saved me!” she sighed.

  “Once and for all!” the Marquis asserted. “And it is something I will not have to do again. Goodnight, Mimosa. Just remember that everything is now plain sailing and you and Jimmy are free to be happy.”

  “I will – try to remember – that,” Mimosa answered and she smiled at him again as he reached the door.

  Then, as she heard him going along the passage to his own bedroom, she felt the tears coming into her eyes again, but this time they were tears of happiness and relief.

  She was safe and the Marquis was even more wonderful than she had already thought him to be.

  “I love him,” she murmured and it seemed only right and natural that she should do so.

  Chapter Six

  When Mimosa and Jimmy came down to breakfast they found that only Charles was there.

  “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  “Much better, thank you,” Mimosa answered.

  “Has anything else happened?” Jimmy asked excitedly and Charles shook his head.

  When they had chosen something to eat from the long array of silver entrée dishes on the sideboard, they sat down at the table and, as they did so, the Marquis came into the room.

  He glanced around as if to make sure that no servants were present and then he said,

  “I have just learned that after an accident Norton Field died half an hour ago at the posting inn on the main road where he was staying.”

  For a moment there was silence.

  Then Jimmy exclaimed,

  “That means he cannot try to kill me any more!”

  “That is true,” the Marquis replied. “At the same time I have ordered a carriage to come round immediately to take you and your sister home.”

  Mimosa stared at him wide-eyed and he explained,

  “It is important that, when the doctor, who has been in attendance on your cousin, notifies you that he is dead, he should not in any way connect him or you with Heron Hall.”

  “No! Of course – I understand,” Mimosa said in a low voice.

  The Marquis then looked at Charles.

  “You and I, Charles,” he said, “are also leaving for London.”

  “I think that is sensible,” Charles agreed.

  “We must therefore all look exceedingly surprised when we are told of Norton Field’s death from some accident which nobody can explain. You, Jimmy, will attend the funeral, which will naturally be very quiet, but there is no need for your sister to go.”

  Mimosa gave a little sigh of relief.

  Then, when the Marquis would have gone on speaking, the door from the pantry opened and a footman came in bringing a fresh pot of coffee that he set down beside his Master.

  To change the subject Charles remarked,

  “I have just seen in The Times that Sir Alexander Barclay has arrived back at 60 Park Street. That should mean an end to the Army of Occupation in France.”

  “A good thing too!” the Marquis replied in the same conversational tone. “Our soldiers had too little to do and the French hated us.”

  As he finished speaking, the footman left the room and Mimosa rose from the table.

  “If we are to leave at once,” she said, “I had better go upstairs and get ready.”

  “I have already given orders for your trunks to be packed,” the Marquis said, “and yours and mine, Charles, will follow us with Henson.”

  It was a quarter of an hour later when Mimosa came downstairs with a shawl over her muslin gown and a plain chip-straw bonnet on her fair hair.

  She had found, as the Marquis had said, that everything was already packed for her and there was really nothing to do once she had put on her bonnet but say goodbye to the most beautiful bedroom she had ever slept in and to Heron Hall itself.

  It had been a strange visit, she thought, with moments of sheer terror, and others in which it had seemed as if she had been carried away into a Fairyland of beauty and happiness.

  Indeed her happiness, she knew, was entirely due to the Marquis and she thought, as she stood at the window he had thrown Norton Field out of to his death, that she had loved him almost from the first moment she had seen him.

  She had only been a child then and yet she had been unable to forget his handsome face and the impact of his personality.

  “I love him!” she told the lake gleaming in the sunshine.

  “I love him!” she said to the oak trees that the roe deer were already sheltering under from the heat.

  And yet she knew despairingly that never again was she likely to be invited to Heron Hall.

  Never again would she feel the wonder of the Marquis’s arms around her and know that he had saved not only Jimmy from the terror and menace of Norton Field but also herself.

  ‘Could any man be more wonderful?’ she asked.

  She felt, now that she must say goodbye to him, that the Fairy story she had been living in since coming to Heron Hall had come to an abrupt and tragic end.

  Finally, as Jimmy called her, she turned away from the window to look at the exquisitely carved and gilded bed where she had slept.

  For a moment she did not remember the horror of being kidnapped or of Norton Field lying on top of her tearing at her nightgown.

  Instead she thought of the comfort and security of the Marquis’s arms when she had cried uncontrollably on his shoulder.

  “Mimosa! The horses are waiting!” Jimmy called again from the top of the stairs.

  She took one last look around the room where so many dramatic things had happened, but which she felt still held the dignity that it had commanded for centuries, before she replied,

  “I am coming, Jimmy!”

  With Hunter beside her she joined him at the top of the stairs and they walked down them hand-in-hand to where the Marquis and Charles were waiting for them in the hall below.

  “His Lordship has already sent our horses home with two grooms,” Jimmy piped up.

  “That is right,” the Marquis agreed as they reached him.

  “I thought it proper for you to go home in style and I am sure that you will find my carriage very comfortable.”

  “I would much rather have ridden one of your horses,” Jimmy replied. “Will I ever have a chance of riding one again?”

  Mimosa put her hand on her brother’s shoulder.

  “You must not ask for anything like that,” she admonished him gently, “after his Lordship has been so kind to us.”

  “I expect you will have your own later,” the Marquis said after what Mimosa thought was an embarrassing pause, “and, as we are neighbours, we shall be bound to see each other in the future. Take good care of your sister, Jimmy.”

  He saw, as he finished speaking, that Jimmy was looking disappointed and he then turned quickly to Mimosa to say,

  “Goodbye, Mimosa! I am so glad that everything has turned out so satisfactorily.”

  “If it has, it is entirely due to you, my Lord,” Mimosa replied, “and you know – how very very grateful – we are.”

  She found it difficult to speak calmly because the tears were very near the surface.

  As if the Marquis was aware of it, he turned towards the open door where the footmen were waiting at the top of the steps.

  Slowly Mimosa moved down them and Charles, who was walking beside her, said as they reached the carriage in a low voice that could not be overheard,

  “If there is any more trouble, please let us know. You are aware that we are ready to help you at any time.”

  She looked up at him for a moment and he could see the unhappiness in her eyes.

  Then, because it was impossible to speak, she stepped into the Marquis’s comfortable carriage, Jimmy clim
bed in beside her and Hunter jumped in to sit on the seat opposite them.

  The footmen closed the door and the horses started off immediately, Jimmy waving as they did so. Mimosa, however, could only stare at the Marquis who was standing halfway up the steps that led to the front door, seeing him blurred and indistinct because of her tears.

  Then they were crossing the bridge over the lake and Heron Hall was being left behind.

  The Marquis did not wait to see the last of the carriage moving under the oak trees.

  Instead he walked back into the hall and, as Charles joined him, he said sharply,

  “Are you ready? You must realise that the sooner we get away from here the better.”

  “I am ready, “Charles replied, “But I am sympathising with those poor young things having to go through the farce of pretending that they are sorry that devil is dead, while nobody except us has any idea of his criminal intentions.”

  The Marquis then walked away from his friend into his study to pick up some papers from his desk.

  As he did so, Charles, who had followed him, said,

  “I suppose they will be all right?”

  “Why should they not be?” the Marquis asked in an irritated tone.

  “They seem so helpless,” Charles replied, “and I expect you realise that Mimosa is in love with you?”

  “Nonsense! She is only a child!”

  “She may look like one,” Charles pointed out, “but, as you are well aware, she is an extremely intelligent young woman with the natural feelings of one and, of course, it is not surprising that she has lost her heart to you.”

  “She will get over it.”

  There was silence again until Charles persisted,

  “I should have thought, considering all you have been through together, although I suppose it would be surprising, that you might have developed a tenderness for her.”

  “My dear Charles,” the Marquis responded scathingly, “surely you must realise that I could have nothing in common with a young girl, who is really only a pretty country bumpkin?” As he spoke he picked up his papers and walked resolutely into the hall without even looking back and down the steps to where his phaeton was waiting.