There seemed to be a great deal of dust everywhere and the house seemed very small after the Castle.
She felt now as if her visit there had all been a dream.
How could she have stayed in a place that might have been Camelot, met a Knight who might have sat at the Round Table, found him and lost him, and saved her father’s life at the expense of breaking her heart?
Then because she felt that all her dreams lay in ruins about her feet, she sat down and cried.
*
Harry Carrington arrived when it was dark.
She had been expecting him and had brushed and dusted the hall and the sitting room, and changed her gown. She had not eaten anything for the simple reason that she knew her father would not wish her to go shopping so late in the day, and after the luncheon on the train she was not really hungry.
In fact, after crying and feeling a dark depression encompass her whenever she thought of the Duke, she had no wish to do anything but go to bed.
However, she had felt in her bones, as she heard old people say, that when Harry Carrington got her message, he would come to collect the money. Sure enough when it was after nine o’clock, she heard the ‘rat-tat’ of the knocker.
As he came into the house she saw by the expression on his face, how deeply upset he was by Katie’s death.
“I am so sorry,” she said, before he could speak.
He did not answer for a moment but went into the sitting room, and when she followed him he said savagely,
“Why did she have to die? She was young! She had a lot of life in front of her and quite an enjoyable one too if it brought her what we expected.”
Larentia who had been thinking of him rather than herself, felt uncomfortable and she held out the envelope.
“I am afraid there is only £800 in this,” she said. “The Duke wants to make investigations before he gave me any more.”
Harry did not speak for a moment, and then he said,
“Well, I suppose we should be thankful for small mercies, and now since we cannot stand up to any investigation the chapter is closed.”
He opened the envelope, then as he drew the cheque out of it he said,
“How much did you say the Duke had given you?”
“Eight hundred pounds.”
“This is made out for a thousand!”
Larentia’s eyes widened.
“A thousand?”
“See for yourself.”
The Duke’s handwriting was just as she might have expected, strong, upright and forceful, and she knew he had been thinking of her when he had made the cheque out for £200 more than she had asked for, to pay her debts.
“Well, £200 is better than nothing,” Harry said with a note of satisfaction in his voice.
He looked at Larentia, then said,
“I suppose now Katie’s dead you’ll expect half of it?”
“No – no!” Larentia cried. “I do not want – anything. You can keep it all!”
Even as she spoke, she knew she was being stupid, for her father would need nourishing food when he came home, which she had no chance of giving him unless she accepted Harry’s offer.
He looked down at the cheque and said,
“There’s £200 quid extra here, and from all Dr. Medwin tells me, you’re as hard up as I am, so I tell you what we’ll do.”
Larentia looked at him but she did not speak.
“I’ll keep a hundred,” he said. “We’ll give Katie a decent funeral instead of letting her be buried on the Parish, and you can have the rest for your father.”
Larentia did not speak and he said,
“Come on! Pride’s all very well when you can afford it. I peeped in the room after your father had his operation and it’s going to be a long time before he is earning anything again.”
“You are – right,” Larentia said in a small voice. “It is only that – ”
“The trouble with both of us,” Harry interrupted, “is that we are too well-bred to cheat and pretend when we would much rather play it straight. But when you are on the bottom there’s nothing you can do but try and kick your way to the top.”
“I feel ashamed of taking the money.”
“Of course you do,” Harry agreed. “You are too decent for this sort of thing. But have you asked yourself what you would have done if your father had died? You may have a lot of rich relations round the corner, but it doesn’t appear they are anxious to be very helpful.”
He looked around the small sitting room as he spoke, and as if she saw it for the first time in contrast to the Castle, Larentia knew how poverty-stricken it appeared.
“Things will improve when Papa can start writing again,” she said defensively.
“I hope so, but his books, although they are brilliant, do not sell. Medwin told me all about them.”
“Then I shall accept your – offer, and spend every penny of it on Papa.”
She spoke almost passionately and it made Harry look at her in surprise.
Then his eyes narrowed.
“What happened when you were at the Castle?”
“H – happened?”
“What has upset you personally, apart from having to lie and pretend to be Katie?”
“N – nothing.”
“Now you are lying,” he exclaimed, “I know what has occurred. You have fallen in love with the Duke! I suppose he was there. When I was reading the newspaper cuttings about the Marchioness I saw pictures of him.”
There was no need for Larentia to answer.
The colour that flooded into her face and the manner in which she turned away told Harry the truth. After a moment he asked,
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing – and I can get no more money for you.”
“You don’t intend to see him again?”
“No, no! Never!”
The words burst from her lips without her meaning to say them.
Harry put the cheque in his pocket.
“If Katie had been alive,” he said quietly, “she would know you did an excellent job on her behalf and were a real sport about it, and that’s exactly what you have been. I am grateful, although I don’t suppose you will ever tell your father what happened. But he will be grateful because he is alive.”
“It was you who saved him.”
She turned round again.
“I shall always thank you,” she said, “it is just that I feel – embarrassed at having taken so much money under false pretences, and I wish we could afford to – send back the two hundred pounds.”
“I have to save you from your better nature,” Harry said with a smile. “No, Larentia, let sleeping dogs lie, and when the Duke realises, as doubtless he will sooner or later, if he tries to look for you, that Katie is dead, then the whole episode will be forgotten.”
“How will he learn that?” Larentia asked.
Harry shrugged his shoulders.
“I presume it depends how much he wants to see you again and to tell you what he has discovered in his investigations. After all, I presume he really believes you are the Duchess of Tregaron?”
“Yes – I think he believed I was – but the Marchioness was very hostile and very shocked at the idea.”
“Well, she’ll be glad Katie’s dead!”
There was a note in his voice that told Larentia how much it meant to him.
“I am sorry for your sake,” she said softly.
“I loved her!” Harry replied. “God knows why! There’ve been a lot of women in my life, one way or another, but Katie meant more to me than any of the others. And although we were too poor for comfort, it didn’t matter all that much. We used to laugh and joke about it and she always said, ‘There are better times just round the corner’.”
“I am so sorry,” Larentia said again.
“Perhaps in a month or so I’ll find it easier to forget,” Harry said. “And the hundred quid you brought me will help a great deal.”
“You will
pay Mr. Levy?” Larentia asked quickly.
“Yes, of course,” he answered, “and that reminds me, you had better endorse this cheque, it’s made out to Miss Katie King. Or, if you like, I will do it for you.”
“You – do it.”
She had a feeling she could not lie any more about something which had belonged to the Duke.
“All right,” Harry said. “I’ll come and see you tomorrow and tell you what time the funeral is. You’ll come, won’t you? There’s not likely to be many people there. As far as I know, Katie had no relatives, and not many friends, except me.”
“Yes – of course I will come.”
“She’ll have a decent coffin, and I’ll get her some flowers,” Harry said. “She’d like that.”
He went towards the front door and Larentia followed him.
As she opened it, it struck him that she looked very forlorn and somehow frail and insubstantial, in the flickering light of two candles.
“You’ll be all right alone?” he asked.
“Quite all right,” she answered.
“Well, bolt the door after I’ve gone, and don’t open it unless you know who is outside.”
“No – of course not.”
“You ought to have someone with you,” he said, almost to himself.
He hesitated for a moment as if he had a suggestion to make but had decided against it, and then without saying any more, he left.
Larentia shut the door and bolted it. Then she began to blow out the candles, preparatory to going to bed.
Chapter Seven
Larentia came down the stairs wearing the black gown she had worn when her mother died.
It was a little tight for her and in consequence made her look slimmer and more elegant than usual.
Her small bonnet was trimmed with black ribbons and she had a pair of black gloves.
All the time she was dressing she had tried to think of Katie and how tragic it was that she should die when she was so young.
But irresistibly her mind was back at the Castle and all she could see when she looked in the mirror was not herself but the huge stone walls with their arrow-slit windows and castellated towers.
For the two days she had been alone at home, not speaking to anyone except when she visited her father in the nursing home, the Duke had haunted her.
She knew that having once found the most precious possession in the world – the Holy Grail of Love – she had lost it and would never find it again.
To her the Castle was Camelot and the Duke in her dreams was as she had seen him first. She knew that never again could a man mean anything to her and she no longer had a heart to give because it was forever his.
“I love you! I love you!” she whispered at night into her pillow and felt she was past crying, for her whole body was one aching longing for the touch of his lips.
She told herself now that she must come back to the real world and keep her memories of the Duke for times when she was reading her father’s books, or losing herself in the vivid descriptions of King Arthur and his Knights in Tennyson’s poems.
There was a knock at the door and she knew it would be Harry Carrington come to collect her as he had promised to do to take her to Katie’s Funeral.
She let him in and saw that he had a hackney carriage outside. But first he walked into the small sitting room and took an envelope from his pocket.
“Here’s your share,” he said. “£75!”
He put the envelope down on her father’s desk, and Larentia parted her lips to say she had changed her mind and she would not take it.
Then she remembered that her father was still weak, and even though Mr. Curtis had said he might be able to come home in another ten days, it would be months before he was able to walk again, and during that time he must eat nourishing food and not be worried by financial difficulties.
“Thank you,” Larentia said in a low voice.
“The funeral cost just over £20,” Harry said, “and the rest I’ve spent on flowers.”
He spoke with an almost defiant note in his voice as if he expected her to find fault. When Larentia said nothing, he turned towards the door and she knew by the expression on his face that he was suffering.
She was just about to follow him when she said,
“One moment. I wanted to ask you whether we should somehow let the Duke know that Miss King – is dead,” Her voice faltered for a moment, then she went on, “it seems wrong that we should let them continue to – worry about the money I asked for when there is no longer any reason for them to pay it.”
“They’ll doubtless be glad about that!” Harry replied sharply, “but even more glad to know they need not have a Duchess who would, in their eyes, disgrace their family.”
“The Duke did say,” Larentia murmured, “that she should be included on their genealogical tree.”
To her surprise Harry laughed and it was not a very pleasant sound.
Then he said,
“That’s the sort of thing he would think of! Well, he need not trouble himself. I expect sooner or later he’ll find out the truth and realise he’s been had for a mug – even if it was only to the tune of a thousand pounds!”
As he stopped speaking he realised that Larentia was staring at him with a horrified expression on her face.
“Wh – what are you – saying?” she asked in a faltering voice. “Are you – telling me that what I – told the Duke was untrue and Miss King was not – married to his uncle?”
“Of course she wasn’t married!” Harry replied. “Do you really think the almighty, stuck-up Duke of Tregaron would take a chorus girl for a wife?”
“B – but the letter and the Marriage Certificate,” Larentia gasped.
“Very skilfully executed by one of the best forgers in the business! And I pride myself that the finishing touch was the entry in the Marriage Register at Southwark Cathedral.”
He paused before he added,
“My plan deceived you and it apparently deceived the Duke. I hope he goes on sweating over it just as all those stuck-up aristocrats deserve for their attitude of – ‘I’m holier than thou!’”
“But how could you – how could you let me tell such lies? And receive money for them?” There was a sob in her voice and Harry said savagely,
“Have you forgotten that I invented them to save Katie’s life and you told them to save your father’s? Well, I failed, but you should be thankful things turned out as they did.”
Larentia shut her eyes for a moment as if she fought for self-control. Then she said very quietly,
“You are right. I should be – grateful. Let us go.”
She did not wait for Harry but walked ahead of him, opened the front door leaving him to close it behind them, and stepped into the hackney carriage.
It was not far to the Churchyard but she had the feeling that Harry had taken a carriage because it showed more respect for Katie than if they arrived on foot.
They drove in silence.
Larentia was very pale and she felt that in learning the truth it was as if Harry had hit her over the head with a club.
How could she have known? How could she have guessed for one moment that he was lying? Or that the documents she carried were forgeries, and that Katie had, in fact, been everything the Garons had suspected her of being?
As the Churchyard came into view Harry said,
“Stop worrying, Larentia, about your part in this affair. No one could ever blame you for acting in good faith in trying to save two people’s lives.”
He looked at her pale cheeks and down-cast eyes and added,
“Forget the Duke. He can mean nothing in your life, and at least he has not violated you as his uncle did Katie.”
“I will try to forget – him.”
“That’s sensible,” Harry approved. “We’ve both got something to forget and the sooner we do so the better for both of us.”
The horses came to a standstill and Harry stepped out of the carriage,
paid the cabman and he and Larentia walked up the path towards the Church.
Katie’s coffin stood at the bottom of the chancel steps. There were two large wreaths on it that Larentia knew must be the ones that she had paid for.
There were also a few bunches of flowers and from where she was sitting, she could see that one of them had been sent by the girls of the Gaiety Theatre.
There were only four other people in the Church besides themselves – an elderly woman who looked like a theatrical dresser, a man who appeared to have something of the theatre about him and two girls with painted faces who Larentia guessed were from the Gaiety, and was sure of it when they smiled and nodded at Harry.
She knelt down in one of the pews on the opposite side of the aisle and prayed that Katie would find peace and happiness wherever she might be.
Then because she could not help herself she prayed that the Duke would forgive her for deceiving him and that in the future he might remember their love.
Not with contempt but as something very beautiful and mystical which had passed through their lives, and brought them a beauty that could never be despoiled.
The Parson came in with a hurried air as if he was aware he was late and was trying to make up for it.
His surplice was creased and needed washing and he repeated the Funeral Service without giving the words any particular meaning or even sounding very sincere.
Then the pallbearers lifted the coffin onto their shoulders and Larentia and Harry walked immediately behind them while the other people followed.
Katie was to be buried in a far corner of the Churchyard, and they picked their way amongst ancient graves, many of the headstones being broken or crooked.
The grass was overgrown and Larentia thought that the whole Churchyard had an air of neglect as if no one was interested in it.
Then she told herself she must not think of anything but Katie and when they reached the graveside she tried to remember that it was only Katie’s body they were committing into the ground but her spirit was free and she was no longer in pain.
She shut her eyes and prayed,
“Oh, God, let her be happy with you and let her forget everything she has suffered here on earth.”
Then as if she could not help herself the prayer in her heart turned to one for herself.
The Goddess and the Gaiety Girl Page 13
