A Shaft of Sunlight

by Barbara Cartland

  He thought Giona was about to refuse and he added,

  “Otherwise you will make me once again curious, and I shall certainly watch you vanishing between the trees.”

  “Do you – always get your – own way?” she asked.

  “Invariably!” the Duke replied.

  “Then it is very – bad for you – but I suppose it is to be expected – since you are so important and so clever.”

  “Are you flattering me?” he enquired.

  She shook her head.

  “The opinion of somebody as insignificant as myself would doubtless be dismissed by a wave of your hand.”

  The Duke laughed.

  “Now you are deliberately trying to provoke me. So let us get back to the question you have not answered – why I should not watch you leave, if that is what you insist on doing.”

  There was a hint of mischief in Giona’s eyes as if she found it amusing to whet his curiosity even further.

  “If you want the truth – it is because I have – undone the back of my – gown and it would be distinctly – immodest to move away until I can do it – up again.”

  “Why have you done that?” the Duke asked.

  “Are you still – interested in hearing the – truth?”

  “You know I am. Just as you are aware that you are making me more and more inquisitive.”

  “About a skeleton in a cupboard? Your Grace should have more important things to occupy your mind.”

  “It would not be so intriguing if it was not so unexpected.”

  Giona gave a little chuckle.

  “Perhaps that is true. It is the same way that Papa would have thought. Perhaps that was why it was such fun to be with him.”

  “Then tell me why you have undone your gown.”

  “I wonder if I do so whether you will be shocked, surprised or disgusted.”

  “I will tell you my reaction when I hear your explanation.”

  “Very well,” Giona sighed. “Some of the weal’s on my back are bleeding, and when they – stick to my – gown it is very – painful to pull it off. I also find the evening air – cooling.”

  The Duke stared at her incredulously.

  “What are you saying?” he asked.

  “I am telling you that I have recently been beaten!” Giona replied defiantly. “It is something that happens frequently since I came here. Now do you understand why I wish I could have – died with – Papa and Mama in Naples?”

  It was impossible to hide the tears in her eyes, and as they overflowed she wiped them away almost angrily with the back of her hand.

  “It is your fault for making me – talk like this,” she said accusingly. “But it is – two years since I have – spoken to a man like you.”

  She drew in her breath before she went on,

  “Because you have brought back the happiness I have – lost – I do not know whether to – thank Your Grace – the fates – or the gods who brought you here this evening.”

  “Who has beaten you?”

  The question came sharply in the authoritative voice which when the Duke used it, invariably commanded obedience.

  There was a little pause before Giona said in a low voice,

  “The same person who – brought me here – from Naples – who defamed my darling mother – and who hates me!”

  Without her saying any more the Duke knew the answer.

  “I presume,” he said, “you mean Sir Jarvis?”

  Giona did not speak, but he thought there was a slight affirmative movement of her head.

  “Why? What is his connection with you?”

  “You gave me your – word that – nothing we have said will go any further – if you do speak of it – he will kill me! He will do it anyway – with his floggings – but it would be a rather quicker death – than the way he is – doing it now.”

  The Duke put out his hand and took Giona’s in his.

  “Look at me, Giona.”

  Again it was a command and slowly she turned her face towards him.

  There were tears on her cheeks and her eyes were misty but she still looked lovely in a manner that was not English but the Duke was sure, Greek.

  “Trust me,” he said quietly. “You have told me so much. Trust me with the whole story, and I swear that somehow I will help you.”

  He felt her fingers tighten on his as if she suddenly felt he was a lifeline to which she could cling. Then she said helplessly,

  “Even if I – tell you – there is – nothing you – can do.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “He will – never let me go – I am not being hysterical or exaggerating when I say he – wants me to – die! Then – since Papa is – dead – his secret will be safe for ever!”

  She spoke in a way that told the Duke irrefutably that she was speaking the truth.

  He was a very good judge of character, and he knew when a man or a woman was being sincere, or was acting or exaggerating in any way.

  He was utterly convinced that Giona was neither acting nor exaggerating, and again he said as his fingers tightened on hers,

  “Start from the beginning, and tell me the whole story.”

  “I cannot really start at the – beginning,” Giona replied, “because I do not – know it – myself.”

  “Who was your father?”

  “Uncle Jarvis’s half-brother.”

  “So your name is Stamford.”

  “Yes, but I am not allowed to use it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I am not quite – certain. Papa used many names as we – travelled about, but I know it was something to do with Uncle Jarvis which made Papa move from country to country and change his name.”

  “And your mother went with him?”

  “Of course Mama went with him. She loved him. They loved each other. She would have walked barefoot to the top of the Himalayas if he had wanted her to.”

  “But he had no money.”

  “Papa had plenty of money, he was very rich, but I think most of what he had to spend came from Uncle Jarvis. It was always waiting for him in the Bank of any country we visited so that we lived very comfortably and were very happy.”

  “But you did not come back to England?”

  “I knew we could not. Sometimes Papa would be restless and look sort of ‘far away’, and Mama and I knew that he was missing his friends, his hunting and shooting and all the things he had enjoyed before he went abroad.”

  “Then what happened?” the Duke enquired.

  “We had come back to Europe and were in Greece, until Papa thought it would be fun to explore Italy again. But when we arrived in Naples there was an epidemic of typhoid!”

  The Duke felt Giona’s fingers tremble again in his before she went on,

  “It was – horrifying! Everybody was so – ill and before we could – move out of the – city, first Papa and then Mama – collapsed.”

  “But you survived.”

  “Unfortunately!”

  There was a long silence, and then the Duke prompted,

  “What happened then?”

  “I was so – upset when Papa and Mama died that I first stayed in the Villa we had rented. The Bank, which handled the money, which was waiting for Papa, wrote to England to tell Uncle Jarvis what had happened. That was how he knew where I – was.”

  “And I presume he came out to fetch you.”

  Giona shut her eyes.

  “I do not – want to – talk about it.”

  “I can help you only if you tell me everything.”

  “I have already – told you that you – cannot help – nobody can. But if you want me to go on with this – miserable story I will – do so.”

  “That is what I want you to do.”

  “Uncle Jarvis arrived and he – told me – ”

  She stopped and the Duke knew she found it almost impossible to say the next few words and when she did speak it was in a whisper.

  “He – told me that –
Papa and Mama were not – married – I was – illegitimate or as he put it – a bastard!”

  She suddenly pulled her hand from the Duke’s to say furiously,

  “It is not true! I know it is not true! Papa ran away with Mama because his father wanted him to marry an aristocrat as Uncle Jarvis had done.”

  “And he refused?”

  “He had become engaged to a Nobleman’s daughter, but then he met Mama.”

  “And they fell in love,” the Duke prompted.

  “They were deeply and completely in love and as Papa knew his father would never consent to the marriage, he persuaded Mama to elope with him. But they were married – I know they were!”

  “There must be some record of it, and it should not be hard to find.”

  “I have no – chance of – looking for it.”

  “I could do that for you.”

  “You could? Or rather – would you?”

  “That is another thing I will promise you to do.”

  “Mama’s father was the Vicar of a small Parish in Hampshire. I know he did not marry them because the Patron of his living was a friend of my grandfather’s, and Mama thought her father might be made to suffer for it. So she and Papa were married, I am sure, at Dover.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because to escape all the fuss there was about Papa breaking off his engagement they went to France.”

  “And was there a fuss?”

  “I think so. I am sure there was, for while they were in France Uncle Jarvis went to see them and said that Papa was to stay out of England because of the scandal he had caused – and there was some other reason also.”

  Giona made a helpless little gesture with her hands.

  “But that is what I do not know. Papa never told me, but thinking back to some of the things Mama said, I know it was then that Uncle Jarvis began to send them so much money and they began to change their name as they went from country to country.”

  “And what happened to all the money?”

  “Uncle Jarvis told me I was – illegitimate and he was – ashamed and – disgusted that I should even – exist. He said I was not – entitled to any of Papa’s money and that it was his by law.”

  “I am sure that is untrue. Whether you were born in wedlock or not, if he made a will in your favour the money is yours.”

  “How can I – prove that? Uncle Jarvis brought me back to England with him and said that I should live here at Stamford Towers, but that nobody must – see me – and if I ever attracted – attention to myself he would – beat me until I was – unconscious.”

  “Why did he beat you today?”

  “It was yesterday – just before you – arrived. I very stupidly went to look at the table in the dining room. I had never seen all the gold plate brought out before and the garlands on the table were the best orchids from the green-houses – but Uncle Jarvis – caught me – there.”

  “So he beat you!”

  “I think he is glad of any excuse and he has instructed the servants to half-starve me, so that if I grow weak enough I will – die and he will be – rid of me!”

  The Duke was about to say that he could not believe any man could be so bestial or so ruthless, when as if overcome by what she was saying Giona bent forward to put her hands over her eyes.

  As she did so the back of her gown, which was unbuttoned, fell open and the Duke could see on the whiteness of her skin there was a criss-cross of weal’s.

  Some of them were purple as if they were beginning to heal, but others clotted with blood showed they were of more recent origin.

  For a moment he could only stare incredulously as if he could not believe what he saw.

  Then he felt an anger rising within him that was like a burning fire.

  It was what he felt when on the battlefields of Portugal he had seen some of the soldiers stripped and mutilated, and had been ready to murder with his own hands those who had perpetrated such atrocities.

  Now he knew that his instinct, which had told him there was something wrong with Sir Jarvis, was not at fault, and he was also aware that somehow he had to save Giona.

  He could see not only the weal’s on her back, but the sharp curve of her spine protruding in a manner which told him all too clearly that she was undernourished.

  Then he knew that it was of first importance to convince her that her confidence in him had not been in vain and. somehow he would save her from the fiend who was attempting to destroy her.

  “Listen to me, Giona,” he said.

  Obediently like a child she raised her face and he saw that despite the tears on her cheeks she had herself under control.

  Once again he took her hand in both of his.

  “I want you to trust me,” he said very quietly, “and I promise you again on my honour that somehow I will save you and I will prove, because it will make you happy, that your father and mother were married.”

  For a moment Giona’s eyes were incredulous, then they seemed to catch the last golden light of the setting sun and to shine as brilliantly as the first evening star that was just appearing overhead.

  “I knew when I first saw you,” she said, “that somehow, in some – mysterious way I did not – understand you had been sent to – help me.”

  The Duke, holding her hand, said,

  “I am going back to the house, and I will be thinking of what we can do. You must meet me here again tomorrow evening.”

  “There is a Ball tomorrow evening.”

  “All the better! It will make it easier for us to meet without anybody being in the least suspicious.”

  “They might be suspicious if – you disappear for a long time. After all you are the most – important guest.”

  “I think my Ward is that. You know, of course, why we are here?”

  “Claribel intends to marry him.”

  “If I give my permission.”

  “I gather from what is being said in the house that is a foregone conclusion.”

  “On the contrary, I made it clear that I would only consider the question as to whether my Ward should propose to Miss Stamford. I can tell you now quite categorically that there is not the slightest chance of my answer being anything but ‘No’!”

  “That is wise. She would not make him happy.”

  “How do you know? Apart from the fact that she is your Uncle’s daughter?”

  “That is a question I would – rather not answer.”

  “I will not press you,” the Duke said, “since for the moment my only concern is for you.”

  “I – I did not mean to – involve you in my – troubles. I had not the slightest idea that I would ever see you except – ”

  “ – from the top window,” the Duke smiled. “But we have met, Giona, and I think it was fate.”

  He knew she was trembling, but as she did not speak he asked,

  “What is frightening you?”

  “I was just – thinking how – furious Uncle Jarvis would be if he knew I had even – spoken to you – let alone had this – conversation.”

  “He will not know,” the Duke said. “That is why we must be careful.”

  He rose as he spoke and because he was still holding her hand he drew Giona also to her feet.

  “I am going back now,” he said, “and I imagine you have your own way of returning, so there is no reason why anybody in the house should know we have been here together.”

  “I – I – hope not,” Giona said. “The servants do not like walking in the woods when it is getting dark – it seems spooky to them – and anyway, nobody will miss me.”

  “Have you had your dinner?”

  She gave a little laugh.

  “I may – or may not find something in my room. I am not allowed to go to the kitchen when there is a house-party for fear the valets and lady’s maids belonging to the guests should see me.”

  “You are too thin!” the Duke observed abruptly because it upset him to think of her hungry.
r />   Giona shrugged her shoulders.

  “I have been spoilt by the food I ate with Papa and Mama, who thought cooking was an art – and I find it difficult to eat the remains of the servants’ meals which is – all I have here – but there is – no alternative.”

  “There will be in the future,” the Duke said, “and when you go to bed tonight remember, Giona, that the future will be as bright and as lovely as the sun that will rise again in the morning.”

  ‘I – I want to believe – that,” she said.

  “If you pray, which I have a feeling you do,” he said, “pray that the night and the darkness will pass quickly.”

  “How can you be so understanding?” she asked. “That is the sort of thing Papa would have said to me.”

  “I think the one thing your father would have wanted,” the Duke said, “would be for you to believe that I am here to help you.”

  “I want to believe that – but I am – afraid!”

  “Of your uncle? Forget him!”

  She drew in her breath and he knew she was thinking of the beating she had received yesterday and of her uncle’s anger if he had the slightest idea she had revealed so many secrets to the Duke.

  “You promised to trust me,” the Duke said quietly.

  “I do! I swear I do!” Giona said, “and thank you – thank you for bringing me – hope when there was only darkness and despair.”

  “That is over, and you will soon forget. In the meantime, we have to be very careful, very cautious.”

  She nodded.

  The Duke released her hand.

  Then as if there was no need for any more words, as the last glow of golden light sank over the horizon, he turned and walked back the way he had come along the twisting path through the pine wood which led first to the shrubs, then to the steps beside the cascade.

  Then he moved as swiftly as he could, not straight towards the house but to another part of the garden, so that when he approached the terrace leading into the drawing room he came from a different direction altogether.

  Now he walked slowly and casually, as if he was deep in thought, and as he neared the steps, which led down onto the lawn from the terrace, he was acutely aware that somebody was waiting for him behind the grey stone balustrade.

  “So there you are!”

  Sir Jarvis exclaimed as the Duke slowly ascended the steps. “I wondered what had become of you!”