The Mysterious Maid-Servant

by Barbara Cartland

  “You must let me introduce my other guests,” he said. “Captain Henry Somercote you met yesterday and this is my young cousin, Mr. Julius Lynd, who has only just arrived from London. He will be able to acquaint us with all the news we miss in this quiet watering-place.”

  Giselda smiled at both gentlemen shyly, before seating herself on the chair nearest to the bed.

  The Earl noted that Mr. Knightley had produced the jewellery that the Colonel had spoken about.

  Giselda wore a single string of pearls round her neck, a pretty brooch of amethysts on her bodice and an amethyst and pearl ring on the third finger of her left hand on which there was also a gold wedding ring.

  “Have you been to Cheltenham before, Mrs. Barrowfield?” Julius asked.

  He was sitting on the chair next to Giselda and he leant forward eagerly.

  “No, this is my first visit,” Giselda replied. “I was so excited when Colonel Berkeley invited my aunt and myself to be his guests. We had heard so much of the beauty of Cheltenham and the efficacy of its waters.”

  “And you will be taking them yourself?” Julius enquired.

  “I expect to, although I do not think I really need them,” Giselda answered with a faint smile. “But my aunt urgently requires their medicinal qualities. Unfortunately, she was taken ill when we reached London and will not be joining me for a few days.”

  “Then if, until she arrives, you have no one to escort you to the Pump Room,” Julius suggested, “I hope you will allow me to show you the way there, and introduce you to Mrs. Forty, who is one of the characters of Cheltenham.”

  Giselda looked at him enquiringly and he explained,

  “Mrs. Forty is a well-known pumper who serves the King and Queen and the Royal Family when they come here and whose portrait was painted at His Majesty’s command.”

  Julius had this so off pat that the Earl was sure he had looked it up in a guidebook before calling, so that he could, if necessary, impress the rich Mrs. Barrowfield with his knowledge of Cheltenham.

  Henry Somercote must have done his work well, the Earl thought, and avoided his friend’s eye in case he should laugh.

  “It would certainly be very interesting to meet Mrs. Forty,” Giselda replied.

  “Then may I effect the introduction tomorrow morning?” Julius asked. “At what time do you wish to take the waters?”

  “I should think that ten o’clock would be early enough.”

  “That is the fashionable hour,” Henry Somercote said, “and you will find all the notabilities of Cheltenham sipping away and pretending that the water is doing them good, while really they think it is disgusting.”

  “Is it really so nasty?” Giselda enquired.

  “I have not the slightest idea,” Henry Somercote replied. “I have never tasted it and have no intention of doing so, but I certainly think that Talbot should go to the Pump as soon as he is well enough.”

  “Let me make it quite clear – I have no intention of drinking the water!” the Earl said firmly.

  He glanced at Giselda as he spoke and thought there was a little glint in her eye that told him that, if she thought it would do him good, she would certainly try to persuade him to try it.

  He could see a battle ahead and felt amused at the thought of it.

  “There are many other things I can show you, Mrs. Barrowfield,” Julius was saying. “The Assembly Rooms are delightful and the theatre is to have a special play for the Duke of Wellington’s visit entitled Love in a Village.”

  “Will there be anyone famous playing in it?” Giselda asked, since it was obvious that she was expected to say something.

  “I have no idea,” Julius was forced to admit.

  “Perhaps Maria Foote will have a leading part?” Henry Somercote interposed.

  But if she did he and the Earl knew the reason for it.

  Julius went on talking, but it was obvious that, while he was doing his best to ingratiate himself with the ‘rich widow’, he was somewhat restricted by the fact that he was also being listened to and watched by his cousin and Guardian.

  Occasionally he looked at the Earl with an expression of defiance in his eyes, but his Lordship continued to be affable.

  There was no doubt that by the end of his visit, if Julius Lynd was apprehensive as to the Earl’s feelings towards him, they had been assuaged.

  He had in fact been rather afraid that the Earl would learn not only of his pursuit of women but also the fact that he had in the past year borrowed a considerable sum of money on his expectations of succeeding to the title.

  Although he was paying an enormous rate of interest, there had seemed to be every chance that the Earl would die of his wounds and therefore he would be able to pay back the loan much more quickly than anyone might have anticipated.

  But he had only to look at his cousin now to realise that he was well on the way to recovery!

  Although outwardly Julius was pleasant and polite he cursed the fact that the Earl had been persuaded to visit Cheltenham to be operated on by Thomas Newell, one of the most famous surgeons in the country.

  ‘By all the laws of good fortune,’ Julius told himself, ‘Cousin Talbot should have been killed at Waterloo or at least died because he would not have his leg amputated!’

  The Earl had been spoken of as being quite a hero in his defiance of the Regimental doctors and refusal, even when he was running a high fever from the festering of the grapeshot, to listen to their advice.

  And yet with his usual, unbelievable luck the risk had paid off and now it seemed to Julius that it could be forty years or more before he had a chance of succeeding to the Earldom.

  Cursing the fate that had played him such a scurvy trick, he was wondering as he talked to Giselda whether he would be wise to transfer his attentions from Emily Clutterbuck to this far more attractive woman, who according to Henry Somercote, had a much greater fortune and a decidedly more agreeable background.

  At the same time, Emily was, to put it vulgarly, ‘in the bag’!

  She had made it quite clear that she welcomed his advances and the fact that he had followed her to Cheltenham would, he knew, make it very plain what his intentions were.

  The thought of Ebenezer Clutterbuck as a father-in-law made him feel sick and Emily herself was so unprepossessing, besides being twelve years older that the mere idea of marriage to her was nauseating.

  But his debtors were waiting to pounce on him and his debts, despite the money he had received from his cousin this past year, were astronomical.

  It was impossible for him to go on as he was or to give up the only type of life he understood and enjoyed.

  Once Emily was his wife there would be plenty of money to pay for the hundreds of fair charmers who would be only too willing to make him forget that he was a married man.

  At the same time Julius thought craftily that if it was a case of a ‘penny plain or twopence coloured’, who was he to hesitate?

  There was no doubt in his mind that everything would be easier in every way if the Lynd family, and especially the Earl himself, accepted his choice of a wife.

  There would be no difficulties where Mrs. Barrowfield was concerned, but he could imagine all too vividly what their reactions would be to poor Emily!

  When Giselda rose to say that she was going to her room to rest before dinner, Julius rose too.

  He had made up his mind.

  ‘I was always a gambler,’ he told himself.

  When he said goodbye to Giselda, he lingered over her hand a little longer than was strictly necessary and told her, in a voice that was overwhelmingly sincere, that he was counting the hours until ten o’clock tomorrow morning.

  “You are very kind, sir,” Giselda sighed as she curtsied.

  With an excess of gallantry, Julius raised her hand to his lips once more before she moved away from him down the long passage towards another large guest room, which had now been allotted to her by Mrs. Kingdom.

  Later, by peeping ove
r the banisters, she saw the front door close behind Julius and ran back to the Earl’s bedroom.

  She ran in impetuously, and ignoring Henry Somercote who was saying goodbye to the Earl, she put out both her hands towards him.

  “Was I all right?” she asked breathlessly. “Did I do what you wanted me to do? Do you think he was convinced?”

  “You were perfection!” the Earl said quietly.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Goodnight, Mrs. Barrowfield.”

  “Goodnight, Mr. Lynd, and thank you very much for escorting me this evening.”

  “The pleasure has been entirely mine,” Julius replied. “I only wish we could have had more time together.”

  There was no doubting the stress on the last word and as he spoke he took Giselda’s hand in his and held it closely.

  As Giselda wondered what she should reply, he went on in a low voice,

  “There is so much I want to say to you and I did hope I should have a chance this evening.”

  Apprehensively Giselda looked over her shoulder at the butler and footmen standing in the hall behind them and at the same time took her hand from his.

  There was no need for her to say anything – he knew what she was thinking.

  “Allow me tomorrow,” Julius said, “to call for you at ten o’clock to take you to the Pump.”

  He bent his head and kissed her hand, and she could feel the warm pressure of his lips through the thin lace mittens she wore.

  With what was a considerable effort, she forced herself to murmur,

  “Thank you once again – and now I must – go.”

  She managed to extract her hand and move quickly up the steps and into the hall.

  Although she did not look back, she felt that Julius was standing watching her and only when she was halfway up the stairs and heard the front door shut firmly did she feel free of him.

  Resisting an impulse to rub her hand where his lips had lingered, she moved even quicker up the stairs to the landing and only paused when she was outside the Earl’s bedchamber.

  ‘Perhaps he will be asleep,’ she thought.

  But he had been insistent before she left that she should come in and see him when she returned from the Assembly Rooms where Julius had taken her.

  Very softly Giselda turned the handle and opened the door.

  Then she saw the candles were alight beside the big four poster and the Earl was sitting up in bed obviously awake.

  She came into the room, closed the door behind her and was halfway towards him before he called out,

  “You are very late!”

  There was an accusing note in his voice and Giselda answered quickly,

  “I am sorry, my Lord. It was impossible to get away sooner.”

  “What do you mean – impossible?”

  “There was so much to see and – Colonel Berkeley introduced me to a number of people.”

  “Why did he do that?”

  “I think he meant to be kind and also to impress on everybody that I was a relative.”

  Giselda reached the bedside to stand in front of the Earl.

  She was looking very lovely, as indeed he had thought before she set out.

  She was wearing a gown of pale pink gauze, scalloped round the hem with tiny frills of lace that also ornamented the bodice and sleeves.

  Round her neck she wore a small necklace of aquamarines that seemed to echo the blue of her eyes.

  “Tell me what happened and what you thought, of the Assembly Rooms,” the Earl asked her.

  “They seemed to be very attractive,” Giselda answered. “But everyone was talking about the new rooms and disparaging the old.”

  She gave a faint smile and added,

  “Apparently, because they have to close, the rules were relaxed for this evening.”

  “What rules?” the Earl enquired.

  “Colonel Berkeley told me that no hazard or games of chance were permitted in the Rooms, but tonight some of the ladies and gentlemen were playing Écarté.”

  There was a little pause, before Giselda murmured,

  “I did not – know what I should do.”

  “What do you mean by that?” the Earl enquired.

  “Colonel Berkeley suggested that I should play and, of course, I began to refuse, but he would not listen. “I will be your banker,” he said, “it is well known that, when a lovely lady plays for the first time, she always wins!”

  Giselda made a little gesture with her hands.

  “He made it impossible for me to refuse him and, in any case, I thought that if I seemed too reluctant Mr. Lynd would not think I was as – rich as I am – pretending to be.”

  “I can understand your difficulty,” the Earl conceded.

  “I won,” Giselda went on. “At least the Colonel told me I had, but I could not really understand the game.”

  “How much did you win?”

  “Ten guineas.”

  Giselda raised her eyes to the Earl’s.

  “What am I to do? He would not let me refuse to take it and it seemed nonsensical for me to make a great fuss when Mr. Lynd thinks I am so wealthy.”

  “And what did you do?” the Earl asked.

  “I brought it back with me.”

  She put her little satin reticule down on the sheets in front of the Earl.

  “I see no difficulty about this,” he said. “The money is yours, though I suspect that Colonel Berkeley was being generous since he has some idea of your real circumstances.”

  “I do not – wish to take – favours from the – Colonel.”

  There was something in Giselda’s tone that made the Earl look at her sharply. However, he did not speak the words that rose to his lips, but said,

  “The money is yours, Giselda, and I am sure you can make good use of it.”

  “I want to give it to you, my Lord. You have spent so – much on my clothes and you have been so kind to me.”

  The Earl stared at her incredulously for a moment.

  Then he enquired,

  “Are you really trying to reimburse me in a manner which I should consider an insult?”

  “No – no, please do not feel like that!” Giselda pleaded. “It is only that it is such a large sum and I can never repay you what I owe.”

  “You owe me nothing,” the Earl insisted firmly. “You are helping me personally, even if at the same time you are helping yourself. Henry told me today that Miss Clutterbuck seems completely disillusioned by the way Julius is behaving and he fancies she will soon be leaving Cheltenham. When that happens our masquerade is at an end.”

  He picked up the little satin reticule as he spoke, shook it, heard the jingle of the guineas inside it and handed it to Giselda.

  “Look on this as being in the way of a benefit for your extremely clever performance.”

  He smiled as he added,

  “All actors and actresses expect to have a benefit. In fact the majority live on them, so why should you be the exception?”

  “You really think, my Lord, it is – right for me to – accept this money?”

  “I shall be very angry with you if you refuse to do so. It will be, as you well know, a Godsend when your brother comes home. How long does Mr. Newell consider keeping him?”

  “He said as the operation was so serious he would have to stay in hospital until the end of the week.”

  “But it was successful?”

  “So we – believe,” Giselda said in a breathless voice. “If you only knew how grateful Mama and I are to you for making it possible, my Lord.”

  “You are the person who made it possible,” the Earl answered. “But as you say, Rupert will need careful looking after when he is convalescent and, as you will not let me help, then you have in your usual clever fashion managed to help yourself.”

  Giselda took the reticule from him and, as she did not reply, the Earl said quietly,

  “I think it is very un-Christian of you to prevent me from acquiring some merit by helping your
family. Have you not read in your Bible that it is ‘more blessed to give than to receive’?”

  “You have already given me everything I want.”

  “But not as much as I should like to give you,” the Earl insisted. “You are still, Giselda, treating me as if I was an enemy.”

  “No, no, never that!” she said. “It is just – ”

  Her voice died away and the Earl after a moment remarked grimly,

  “It is just that there are secrets that you will not reveal to me – in fact you do not trust me. I find that very hurtful.”

  “I – want to trust you – I promise you I do – but I cannot.”

  There was a note almost like a sob in her voice, and after a moment the Earl said,

  “I think you are tired, so I will not plague you any more tonight. Go to bed, Giselda. Put your golden guineas under your pillow, where they will be safe and be quite certain in your own mind that you are entitled to every one of them.”

  “You are quite comfortable – you are not in any pain, my Lord?”

  “My leg, as you well know, is almost healed,” the Earl replied, “and, if I worry about anything, it will not be about myself – but you!”

  “There is no reason for you to worry about me.”

  “How can I be sure of that when you are so mysterious – so secretive? When you erect a barrier between us that I find impregnable?”

  “I don’t mean to be like – that,” Giselda said, “I wish – ”

  Again her voice died away as if she was afraid of saying any more and she turned towards the door.

  When she reached it, she curtsied and it was a very graceful gesture.

  “Goodnight, my Lord,” she said softly, “and thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  She went from the room, but the Earl sat staring at the closed door for a long time.

  He was trying, as he had tried a thousand times before, to imagine what was the mystery that Giselda hid so determinedly from him.

  He had hoped that sooner or later she would trust him and tell him about herself, so he had told Batley to make no more enquiries about her.

  He merely tried to piece together like a puzzle the few pieces of information that Giselda let drop from time to time in her conversation.

  He knew that she had lived in the country, but she was well educated and he fancied, although he was not sure, that she had also at one time lived in London.