Castle of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “Well, come and sit down,” said the Earl. “I told Jarrold to manoeuvre your chair so that you get light from the window to read by as well as sufficient warmth from the fire. I hope it is placed to your satisfaction?”

  “Thank you – yes – it is,” said Jacina.

  She sat down opposite the Earl. By her chair stood a small table on which was placed a newspaper. The Earl asked whether she wanted some tea but she said she would wait.

  “You have, I hope, conquered your ill health?” enquired the Earl politely.

  “My – ill health?” repeated Jacina.

  The Earl raised an eyebrow. “The headaches that deprived us of your company at supper on at least two occasions this week.”

  Jacina bowed her head against his unseeing gaze. “I – am much improved – my Lord,” she murmured.

  “That is good,” said the Earl. He turned his face towards the fire and fell silent. Jacina waited.

  “My Lord,” she began after a moment or two.

  The Earl lifted his head. “Yes?”

  “Shall I begin reading?”

  “Of course, of course.” He gestured in the direction of a small table on which the newspaper waited.

  Jacina picked up the newspaper and began reading the main article. It was concerned with the situation in India and described the endeavours of the British to retake positions that had fallen to the rebels.

  Every so often Jacina paused and stole a glance at the Earl. He had rested an elbow on an arm of the chair and leaned his head on his palm. A lock of his dark hair fell forward. Suddenly he gave a loud groan.

  “Enough!” he cried. “Why should I listen to this? What has any of it to do with me now?”

  Jacina listened in dismay. “But – my Lord – one must know – what is happening in the world.”

  “Oh, must one?” responded the Earl.

  The unexpected coldness in his voice made Jacina tremble but she stood firm.

  “It is easy to – retreat from the world – then you – retreat from people and then – in the end – from your very self.”

  The Earl’s lips curled. “You speak with such authority for one so young.”

  Jacina lifted her head. “I have witnessed it, my Lord. In my father’s patients – there are those who endure and those who –” She bowed her head again, unable to continue.

  “And those who capitulate!” the Earl finished for her. “Is that what you were about to say?”

  “Yes,” agreed Jacina miserably.

  The Earl’s dark, unseeing eyes seemed to glaze over. He sank back in his chair.

  “It must be borne,” he murmured.

  There was silence between them. Logs in the fire snapped and the clock ticked on. Jacina’s eyes roved desperately over the room. In the far corner she noticed a small pianoforte. It was not as grand as the pianoforte that she knew stood upstairs in the music room, but it was a perfectly adequate instrument.

  “Shall I play for you, my Lord?” she asked.

  The Earl made a desultory gesture. “Why not?”

  Jacina rose and crossed to the pianoforte. She raised the lid and sat down. She thought for a moment and then began to play a soothing piece from memory. After a moment she completely lost herself in the melody and began to sing.

  The sound seemed to sweeten the very air in the room.

  When she had finished playing she looked over to where the Earl was sitting. As if sensing her gaze, he turned towards her. His features had softened.

  “Come here, Jacina,” he said.

  She closed the lid and rejoined him at the fire.

  The Earl bent his head for a moment before speaking.

  “I believe I have misused you this morning,” he said. “I humbly apologise.”

  Looking at him, Jacina saw again the proud young man who had apologised for laughing at her when she had lost her bonnet.

  “Your dulcet tones when reading made me relax my guard,” he resumed. “I gave vent to feelings that had become insupportable. It will not happen again. I have no wish to scare you off so soon. I have a feeling your company is going to be as good for me as one of your father’s tonics. Will you forgive me? Will you promise to continue to be my little helper?”

  Jacina’s thoughts were swimming.

  It was torture for her to be near the Earl and know she could never allow herself to feel more for him than friendship. Yet how could she resist his plea that her company would do him good?

  “I shall be happy to – continue to be – of service, my Lord,” she ventured at last.

  The Earl smiled. “ Then let us shake hands on it, Jacina Carlton!”

  With that, he leaned forward and folded her hand firmly in his.

  *

  The weeks that followed were unexpectedly happy for Jacina. Morning after morning, she had the Earl to herself. The Earl listened quietly as Jacina read the newspapers to him. Sometimes they discussed the contents.

  The Earl was charmed at Jacina’s curiosity about the world. Soon he was asking her to choose something to read from the great collection of books in the library. He began to take great pleasure in discussing his favourite authors with her.

  She often played the pianoforte for him and sometimes she sang. The Earl would listen with lowered head, his hand across his eyes. Jacina’s sweet voice touched his soul and he felt the horror of what he had experienced in India begin to melt away.

  Jacina never allowed a single untoward thought about the Earl to intrude into her mind. It was enough for her to just be with him.

  She ceased to think about how this idyll might end.

  When the weather was mild the Earl and Jacina took to strolling in the castle grounds together. The Earl had so far relaxed with his little helper, that he would lean lightly on her arm whenever he felt unsure of the terrain.

  Jacina had often wandered through the castle grounds, while her father attended the old Earl or the cook or Sarah. She led the Earl along paths that even he had forgotten from his youth.

  She became his eyes, describing the giant elms and oaks and the changing colours of their leaves. She described the mist on the highest mountain crags and the shapes of clouds.

  One day they found themselves beside the moat.

  Falteringly, Jacina described the sun glinting on the water and on the snowy plumes of the swans. She could not bring herself to ask the Earl whether he remembered the bonnet bobbing along on the moat’s surface all those years ago.

  The Earl noticed the tremor in her voice.

  “What is here that you do not wish to describe to me?” he asked.

  “N-nothing, my Lord,” cried Jacina.

  “You must not hide anything unpleasant from me,” the Earl said. “Do you see the carcase of some animal or the feathers of a bird? Is there evidence of poaching?”

  “There is not, my Lord.”

  “Then what is it that is so affects you?” the Earl persisted.

  Jacina hung her head. “It is just – I see – something – from the past.”

  “Something from the past?”

  “On the moat.”

  The Earl looked bemused. “What is it?”

  “A – b-bonnet, my Lord.”

  ‘There,’ thought Jacina. ‘It is out. Now he can laugh at me for remembering it so clearly all these years.’

  The Earl did not laugh, though a faint smile touched his lips.

  “A bonnet?” he repeated. “A bonnet with a blue ribbon that trailed in the water behind it? A very best bonnet?”

  Jacina gasped. “You – remember – my Lord?”

  “I remember the incident and the spirited little girl,” said the Earl. “What a fool I am for not remembering her name, or that she was the doctor’s daughter! Please forgive me. So much has happened in the years since to erase even the most pleasant memory.”

  He paused and then reached for her. Taking her gently by the shoulders he turned her to him as if he was able to look at her face. His eyes, blind though th
ey were, seemed to burn into hers. She found herself lowering her gaze.

  “Now my mind can put a face to your voice,” he murmured.

  “I am much – changed – my Lord,” said Jacina.

  “What?” laughed the Earl. “You do not still have green eyes and golden hair with a hint of red?”

  “I – I do, my Lord. But I was a child then. I am a-a woman now.”

  The Earl dropped his hands from her shoulders as suddenly as if they had been scalded.

  “Of course,” he said. “You are a woman now. Come, let us turn back.”

  The swans amid the reeds watched as Jacina led the Earl away.

  *

  The weather changed the very next morning. The horses bringing Jacina to the castle splashed through great puddles. Jarrold rushed out with an umbrella to hold over her as she ascended the castle steps.

  The newspaper that morning reported an outbreak of cholera in the city of Edinburgh. The Earl was troubled. His own parents had died of typhoid when he was a boy and he had since witnessed the ravages of such diseases in India.

  “We have not been exposed to either typhoid or cholera here at Ruvensford within my memory,” Jacina told him.

  “Long may it remain so,” declared the Earl.

  He asked Jacina about the local families, those who were tenants on his land. Jacina knew many of them from accompanying her father on his rounds. She described their lives and their troubles to the Earl. He was struck by her compassion for those less fortunate than herself.

  The Earl gradually began to confide more and more in Jacina.

  He never talked about his experience of the mutiny, but he described other aspects of his life in India. She enjoyed hearing about the landscape and the customs of the people.

  “The men are dark and handsome,” he said. “The women wear bright colours and are like exotic birds.”

  Jacina felt a pang of jealousy. The Earl had admired the beauty of those women in a way that he would never, could never, admire Jacina.

  She wondered about the English women attached to the regiment.

  As if he read her thoughts, the Earl continued.

  “Mostly we mixed only with the wives and daughters and sisters of the regiment. They were our partners at balls and suppers. I myself led a rather solitary life there. Particularly after I became engaged to Felice.”

  The Earl’s admission of fidelity to a woman he barely knew – and that only by letter – disturbed Jacina. Felice must have some strange power over men to have so affected the Earl.

  It was a power that she, Jacina, could never imagine possessing.

  Doctor Carlton had become very preoccupied of late, particularly since receiving a letter from his friend who was a professor of epidemiology at Edinburgh. When not visiting his patients he shut himself away in his study, scrutinising his medical tomes. He no longer visited the Earl for supper or to play cards.

  Jacina was surprised when one morning her father put on his cloak and joined her in the coach that had arrived to take her to the castle.

  “I need to speak to the Earl,” was all he would tell his daughter.

  There was a log fire blazing merrily in the library when they entered. The Earl was astonished when he realised that the doctor had arrived with Jacina. He politely motioned them to be seated.

  “You must excuse my intruding on your morning like this,” began the doctor. “But dire necessity has driven me here.”

  Jacina rose. “Do you wish to speak to the Earl alone, Papa?”

  “No, no,” said the doctor. “What I have to say concerns you.”

  “Me, Papa?” Jacina sat down again in some alarm.

  Doctor Carlton wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

  “No doubt you have heard of the recent outbreak of cholera in Edinburgh?” he said to the Earl.

  “I have,” replied the Earl. “I took comfort in the fact that it was far over the border.”

  “Oh, I have no fears of it spreading South,” said the doctor. “I am, however, very interested in such diseases. My old professor at Edinburgh University has written to me. He would be grateful for my help in controlling this outbreak and I am very inclined to go. My only concern is Jacina.”

  “But Papa,” cried Jacina. “I must go with you!”

  Despite her pleasure in being with the Earl, she was convinced that her duty lay in helping her father. A strange look crossed the Earl’s features, as he heard her words and he turned his face to the fire for a moment.

  Doctor Carlton was shaking his head at his daughter. “No, Jacina, I could not expose you to such a danger.”

  “But Papa –”

  The doctor was firm. “You will not change my mind about this,” he said. “I do not wish you to accompany me and equally I do not wish you to remain at home alone.”

  The Earl turned back from the fire to listen.

  The doctor continued. “My purpose in coming to the castle this morning is to request that the Earl take you under his full protection during my absence.”

  “Do you mean me to – to stay here – at the castle?” stammered Jacina.

  “If the Earl so agrees,” said her father.

  The Earl almost leapt to his feet. “I do indeed agree. It is a capital idea. I – that is Sarah – will be delighted to have more of your daughter’s company.”

  Jacina looked away. She could not hide her disappointment that the Earl had said it was Sarah who would be delighted, not he.

  The doctor and the Earl shook hands.

  “Rest assured, we will all endeavour to make your daughter feel at home here,” smiled the Earl.

  “I am eternally grateful for your help,” said the doctor.

  *

  Thus it was settled that Jacina became a permanent guest at Castle Ruven for the duration of her father’s absence in Edinburgh. She was desolate saying goodbye to her father. She worried for his safety and at first she missed him terribly. At the same time she could not help but be delighted with her new life at the castle.

  Her bedchamber was in one of the towers. The bed was a four-poster, hung with rose coloured silk. She had never slept in such luxury nor been so indulged.

  Every morning Nancy would come in to light the fire and draw the curtains before bringing Jacina a tray of hot chocolate and buttery biscuits. While Jacina ate her breakfast Nancy would bring in jugs of hot water to fill the bath, which stood in the corner of the chamber behind an ivory screen.

  “Nancy, you are making me feel guilty,” laughed Jacina.

  “You enjoy it, miss,” said Nancy. “It won’t last forever.”

  Jacina spent every morning with the Earl as usual. In the afternoons she read in her chamber or continued the studies that her father had begun with her in French and Latin. Sometimes she would go to the nursery, where Sarah would make tea and gossip.

  If the weather was fine she would put on her cloak and set out to visit poor families on the estate. She would take them provisions, which cook was always happy to make up for her in a little basket.

  The Earl dined alone unless he had guests. Then Jacina was invited to join him. The Earl and his guests discussed estate business or politics. Jacina was happy to listen and gaze about her at the ornate dining room.

  If she did not join the Earl she took supper in her room, or with Sarah. Afterwards she would wander the long corridors looking at all the paintings. She had to pinch herself to think she was actually a guest in the castle she had admired for so long.

  One morning, the Earl asked Jacina if she would like to see those parts of the castle that had been shut up since before the old Earl died. Jacina was intrigued and said that she would be delighted.

  A little while later her heart fluttered with anticipation as a huge oak door creaked slowly open onto a long gallery.

  The day had turned windy and storm clouds were gathering over the crags. Boughs lashed the mullioned windows as the Earl and Jacina strolled along. Portraits of early ancestors hung on the gall
ery walls.

  Jacina stopped in front of a painting of a beautiful young woman.

  “Who is that, my Lord?” she asked.

  “You must describe her to me before I can answer,” the Earl gently reminded her.

  Jacina blushed at her mistake. She described the painting. The woman had huge eyes and raven tresses. She wore a magenta gown and a diamond necklace glittered around her white neck.

  The Earl nodded. “Ah, yes. That is my grandmother. Her private chambers occupied this part of the castle. After she died my grandfather could not bear to come here and had it all closed up. But yesterday I ordered it reopened.”

  Jacina sighed as she gazed at the painting. “She is so– so lovely. Her dress is such a beautiful colour. And the necklace –”

  The Earl looked thoughtful. “Would you like to see that necklace?” he asked.

  Jacina’s eyes grew wide. “You – still have it, my Lord?”

  The Earl laughed. “It is a family heirloom. Come with me, Jacina.”

  Such was his memory of the castle’s layout, that it was with no difficulty he led Jacina to the end of the gallery and thence into a corridor that ran to the North-East tower.

  As if by instinct he stopped outside a door that opened from the corridor into a large and opulent room. The walls of the room were hung with yellow silk. The four poster bed was of carved oak. The mirrors on the walls were framed in gold. A walnut dressing table stood by the window.

  The Earl let his fingers roam over the dressing table until they found a blue leather jewellery case. He opened it and Jacina gasped.

  There, on a purple velvet cloth, lay the necklace she had seen in the painting.

  “Try it on,” suggested the Earl.

  With trembling hands Jacina draped the necklace around her neck and fastened the clasp. She stood back and gazed at her reflection in the dressing table mirror.

  “How do they look?” asked the Earl.

  “They – they dazzle –” she replied in a low voice.

  She wished that the Earl could see her. She looked very becoming in the necklace.

  The Earl sighed behind her. “It is family tradition that they are handed on through each generation to the eldest son’s bride” he said.