The idea made Vina jump to her feet and walk to the window as if she suddenly needed air.
Although she was only vaguely aware of what happened between a man and a woman when they made love, she could not have lived in India without realising that childbirth could be a very painful process.
Women in India conceived one child after another until at an early age they were physically exhausted.
Vina thought apprehensively that if she was married to Lord Edgar, he would want her to stay in the country and have children while he went to London to enjoy himself.
Looking back she could remember a great many things that had been said about him which had meant nothing to her at the time and yet they had somehow remained in her mind.
Lady Farringham, her aunt’s greatest friend, was an inveterate gossip and never came to the house without mulling over titbits of scandal concerning their neighbours.
Vina had heard Lord Edgar spoken about again and again.
She had not been in the least interested, except that she realised that everything Lady Farringham related meant something special to her aunt.
She could also remember hearing her aunt say,
“No wonder I hear the Duke has been remonstrating with his brother for behaving in such an outrageous way.”
This was after Lady Farringham had described a midnight steeplechase in which two riders had been badly injured and three horses had to be destroyed.
Vina, who was invariably thinking of something else when Lady Farringham was there, had been alerted because of the horses.
She thought that any man who could destroy an animal in such a way ought to be put in prison.
She had even spoken about it to her uncle.
“Surely,” she had said to the General, “somebody should stop these steeplechases at night when horses are forced over jumps that are too high for them? The riders are obviously incapable of controlling them.”
“Silly young fools, they are too drunk to know what they are doing,” the General had replied.
“Supposing you spoke to them, Uncle Alexander? Would they not listen to you?”
“In any Regiment under my command I would make sure they did!” he had replied. “But it is the Duke of Quarington’s job to see that his brother behaves himself.”
There was no more to be said, but Vina had grieved over the horses and had talked it over with her uncle’s groom.
“’Tis a real shame, Miss Vina, that’s what it is!” he said. “I wouldn’t let any of the ’orses here take part in any of ’Is Lordship’s chases, that I wouldn’t.”
Vina had thought that as her uncle’s horses were overweight and under-exercised, it was unlikely that they would take part in any sort of race.
She was, however, too tactful to say so, only thankful that for whatever reason, they were not in any danger.
Now all this and a great many other things that had been said about Lord Edgar came streaming back into her mind.
She was still thinking desperately of what she should do when the maid who was looking after her knocked on the door.
Automatically, because she was trying to think, Vina bathed and put on the first gown that the maid brought from the wardrobe.
Her hair was arranged, and it was only when she was sitting in front of the mirror that the maid said,
“I think, miss, this gown wants somethin’ round the neck. Shall I bring you your jewel box?”
With an effort Vina forced herself to understand that she had been asked a question.
“My – jewel box?” she repeated vaguely.
It was then she remembered that her aunt had insisted that she bring with her to Quarington the fantastic jewels her father had been left in the Maharajah’s will.
She had been surprised because she had thought herself that, although they were a very impressive collection, they were far too large and too spectacular to be worn by anyone as young as herself.
She would have liked to suggest to her aunt that they should be left behind and then it struck her that perhaps her possessions would be discussed amongst the guests at Quarington and her aunt would want to show them off because they were Indian.
Now, as if they were something unpleasant, Vina said quickly,
“No, no! Of course not. I have no wish to wear any jewels.”
The maid looked surprised because of the forceful way that she had spoken.
Then, because Vina knew that she was correct in saying her neck looked bare, she arranged a thin band of velvet ribbon around it.
Taking a small orchid from the vase that stood on her dressing table, she attached it to the ribbon.
“That looks ever so nice, miss,” the maid said admiringly. “I’ve never seen anyone wear a flower like that before!”
“It is quite comfortable,” Vina said as she smiled, “and I am content to leave the necklaces and tiaras to the ladies who are married.”
The maid giggled and then she said,
“And that’s what you’ll be soon, miss!”
There was a knowing look in her eye that told Vina that the servants must be aware of why she had come to stay and of Lord Edgar’s intentions.
She was not surprised as servants the world over always knew what was going on around them.
At the same time she felt as if prison bars were closing around her and there was no escape.
It was then, as she rose to go downstairs, she began to pray frantically and desperately, that someone would save her.
*
The Duke, returning quietly in the early hours of the morning from Lady Halford’s bedroom, yawned.
Surprisingly it was not only because he had not slept well the previous night or the fact that the lovemaking that he had just been taking part in had been fiery and exhausting.
It was, although he was not prepared to admit it to himself, because he had not been concentrating as wholeheartedly as he should have done on Irene Halford.
She was certainly everything a man could desire, beautiful, witty, exotic and, as far as he was concerned, in love with him.
The Duke was aware that previously he had not only enjoyed the hours they had been together but also had found it impossible to think of anything else.
Yet tonight, stirred physically as he was by Irene’s expertise, he kept seeing the stricken look in Vina’s eyes and knew that something was very wrong.
Edgar had been drinking heavily, which was nothing unusual.
But he did not look like a man who had achieved his objective and, glancing from one to the other, the Duke was apprehensive.
He could hardly believe that Vina, despite the fact that she was different from what he had expected, would have turned down his brother’s proposal of marriage.
In fact he was certain that she would not be allowed to do so.
If Lady Wallace had made up her mind that she was to be affiliated with the Quary family, Vina, as the Ward of the General, would not be able to refuse what had been arranged for her.
When Vina had come to the drawing room, where they had assembled before dinner, the Duke had been aware that she was very pale and that her whole body was tense.
He had not had a chance to speak to her.
Then at the dining table he could see her eyes and he thought that there was an expression of shock in them that was unmistakable.
He decided he would speak to her after dinner, but, when the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room, there was no sign of Vina.
He reckoned that it would be tactless to ask where she had gone.
There was also no chance to speak to his brother, who went off to the billiard room with another man.
When Edgar appeared, just as the Duke was going to bed, he was staggering unsteadily.
Irene Halford had not come to Quarington without making it very clear to the Duke what she expected and what she intended to have.
Without insulting her it would have been quite impossible for him not to go to her bedroom whe
re she was waiting.
As he too was very experienced in the art of making love, there was no question of his not making her happy.
It was what he had anticipated when he had asked her to stay.
Yet some part of his mind remained detached and was concerned with the problem of Vina Wallace and his brother.
“Surely you don’t intend to leave me?” Irene asked when he said that he would return to his own room.
“To be honest, I am tired,” the Duke admitted. “I did not sleep last night and I think too,I should leave you to rest.”
“I can rest when you are not there,” she protested.
Somehow he had managed to extricate himself from her arms.
As he closed her door softly behind him and started to walk down the corridor, he no longer thought about her.
It was then he saw at the very end of the long corridor, which was the whole length of the centre block of the building, that there was someone else.
The Duke stopped dead, having no wish to be seen.
He was then aware that a figure looking almost like a ghost in the dim light was going away from him.
He wondered who it could possibly be.
Only his most important guests slept in this part of the building containing the Ducal Suite, which he occupied himself.
Then he saw the figure ahead go right to the very end of the corridor, pass a secondary staircase that led to the other floors and turn right.
This led into another passage, which led to the oldest part of the house.
It was so surprising a thing for any guest to do at this time of the night that the Duke was curious.
He had put Irene on this floor for obvious reasons, but the majority of guests were in the East Wing.
Then he remembered that there were three exceptions, the General and Lady Wallace, who he thought in the circumstances were entitled to the best of the State Rooms and, beside them their niece, Vina.
His instinct told him that it was Vina he had just seen disappearing into the passage that led to the Tower of Despair.
It was then that his whole mind was suddenly alert with what that might portend.
The Duke, because he was in many ways unusual and different from his contemporaries, had a vivid imagination.
He remembered exactly what he had said to Vina when he had told her about the Tower of Despair and he connected it with the stricken look he had seen in her eyes and the pallor of her face.
Suddenly he realised that it was a warning he could not ignore.
Quickening his pace he passed the door of his own suite, reached the end of the corridor and turned, as the ghost-like figure had done, into the passage that connected the Tower with the main building.
It was narrow and unlit except for the moonlight coming through the long windows that the architect had thought appropriate to match the Tower itself.
After that, as the Duke knew only too well, there were only arrow slits.
And yet, when he reached the Tower, halfway up there was enough moonlight for him to find his way to the narrow, twisting stone steps.
These descended to the main entrance, which was on the ground floor and below that were the dungeons where the prisoners had been held.
There was no sign of Vina and he thought, as he moved slowly and soundlessly in his bedroom slippers over the worn steps, that he had been mistaken.
She must have turned down the secondary staircase, although why she should do so in the middle of the night, he had no idea.
Then, as he reached the top of the Tower, he was aware that the door was open and the moonlight was pouring in.
He knew then that he had not been mistaken and, as he pushed the door farther open and bent his head, he saw that his supposition had been correct.
Vina was standing by the crenelated battlements, looking down into what remained of the moat.
It was the Duke’s father who had had the sides of the moat made strong enough to prevent any water from escaping and who had cleaned out the spring that fed it.
The stagnant water was piped away when it became overfull into the fields not far away from the house.
The Duke was aware that what remained of the moat was very deep and if anyone was so foolish as to fall from the top of the Tower, they would doubtless be concussed and drown before they could be rescued.
He slipped out onto the roof and once he was out in the open air he straightened himself.
By the light that came from the moon and the stars he could see that Vina was wearing only a soft diaphanous negligée and that her hair was flowing over her shoulders.
With one hand she was holding onto one of the crenelated battlements.
She looked so fragile and ethereal that the Duke felt she had only to take one step forward and she would disappear from view.
Slowly he moved towards her, saying as he did so in a conversational tone,
“I wondered when you would find your way here, for it has the most spectacular view over the whole countryside.”
She started at the sound of his voice and turned to look at him.
He thought now there was a wild look in her eyes that made him afraid.
He moved until he was near enough to hold onto her if necessary and, forcing a smile to his lips, he continued,
“I am quite sure that you came here because you could not sleep, as I have done since I was a boy.”
She did not reply, instead she turned her head away and once again looked down at the water.
There was silence until the Duke said quietly,
“It would be wrong, wicked and a crime against life itself to do such a thing!”
He saw her stiffen and then in a voice that he could hardly hear she replied,
“P-perhaps – like the prisoners – who you told me about – there is no alternative. At any rate – I cannot think of – one.”
“Maybe it would be easier if we talked about it together.”
She did not turn her head and her long fair hair veiled the side of her face so that it was difficult for him to see her clearly.
He had the feeling that she was listening as he said,
“One thing I have learned in my life is that, however difficult things may seem, there is always hope.”
“I-I think you are – over-optimistic.”
“Once, when I was serving in the Army in the Sudan,” the Duke went on, “we were besieged by some very unpleasant and ferocious natives after our ammunition and food had run out.”
He could see that she was listening and continued,
“They were notorious for not taking prisoners and I believed that it was only seconds before we all died.”
He paused and after a moment, almost reluctantly, Vina asked,
“What – happened?”
“We were relieved at the last moment by a Squadron we had no idea was anywhere in the vicinity.”
“You were – lucky,” Vina said hesitatingly, “but for me – there is no hope of a – Squadron.”
“How can you be sure of that?” the Duke asked. “And you know well that your father would not want you to be a coward.”
She straightened herself.
Now she turned to look at him, her eyes very large and angry in the moonlight.
“I am not a coward!” she retorted. “And if I do die, I will be with Papa. He would understand.”
“From all I have heard of your father,” the Duke replied, “I do not believe that he would give up until the very last minute.”
Vina stared at him and then, when he thought that she would go on arguing with him, she said with a gesture that was somehow pathetic,
“What – am – I – to do?”
“Shall we talk it over tomorrow?” the Duke suggested. “I am sure that together we can find a solution as I suspect you will with your father’s help.”
Somehow the moonlight was caught in her eyes as she replied,
“If – Papa was here – he would – help me.”
She looked at him for a moment as if she could hardly believe what she had heard.
Then, in a voice a little above a whisper, she murmured,
“You are – right. Of course you are right. It was wrong of me to come – to the Tower of Despair.”
“I should not have told you about it,” the Duke said.
She took her hands from the battlements and he went on,
“Now that we are here, look at the view. In the daytime you can see for nearly fifty miles. You have to admit it’s very beautiful.”
Vina did as he told her.
Then she said as if it was a surprise,
“It is – beautiful.”
It would have been impossible to say anything else about the stars above them and the moonlight turning the world to silver and an unearthly beauty that caught at the Duke’s heart.
“Yes, it is beautiful,” Vina said again as though she was convincing herself and at the same time she was surprised by what she saw.
“Could it be that in your longing for India,” the Duke suggested, “you have not given England a chance?”
“I have not seen – anything as amazing as – this before!”
“Perhaps you have not looked as hard as you should. To many people, especially those who live in the East, it means peace and security and something that goes with them wherever they may be.”
“I think – Papa sometimes – felt like that,” Vina said.
“And he would want you to feel the same.”
There was silence until the Duke said,
“I would not want you to catch cold, so I think we should go down, but do remember what you have seen here and that this is England at its best.”
“I-I will try,” Vina stuttered.
The Duke put out his hand and she put hers in his and he pulled her gently over the roof towards the door.
Her fingers were very cold.
Yet he felt a certain vibration from them. and it was different from anything he had felt before.
Then he told himself that all that mattered was that for the moment he had saved her from the Tower of Despair and that tomorrow they could talk it all over quietly.
Little Tongues of Fire Page 7
