It was more splendid now. Some valuable antiques had been brought out of storage and displayed in a way he thought excessive. This was something his elegant mother had always refused to do. She had said that only vulgar people puffed off their wealth.
But now the room was like a circus with several pieces he had never seen before, all gleaming gold.
One was a small snuffbox set with diamonds that intrigued him enough to make him pick it up.
“Nice little piece, isn’t it?” mumbled a bored voice behind him.
Turning around, Michael could see Anthony rising from the sofa, a triumphant grin on his face.
“Well, well, my long lost brother,” he now drawled. “Who would have imagined seeing you again?”
“You should have known I would come back when you started persecuting the lady I love,” he replied softly.
“Excuse me? The lady you love? I did not know tradesmen were allowed to raise their eyes to ladies! And you are a tradesman now, aren’t you? I hear you spend your time serving behind a shop counter.”
A faint sensation that something was not quite right stirred an alarm deep within Michael, but he was far too preoccupied to realise that he had walked into a trap.
“I won’t bandy words with you,” he fumed. “Verna will never be yours.”
“You don’t think so, do you? My dear fellow, you are dreaming. Her father is all for our match.”
“Don’t tell me that she is all for it, because I won’t believe you,” Michael snapped.
“Oh no, she still feels a certain amount of maidenly reluctance, but on our wedding night it will be my pleasure to overcome it.”
He dropped his voice to add,
“I can’t tell you how I am looking forward to that.”
His words caused a red mist to descend on Michael.
Inside his head he could hear voices bellowing and Verna screaming at him to save her.
The next moment he had launched himself onto his brother in a frenzied attack.
Dimly he became aware that something was out of kilter. Instead of fighting back, Anthony was simply allowing himself to be punched, so that the blood flowed from his nose down his white shirt.
And then it was all over.
Something hard and heavy struck Michael on the back of the head and he collapsed into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER TEN
From her window Verna could see over the gardens to the path where Winifred was standing, gossiping with a young man she did not recognise.
As she watched, Winifred whirled round and began to run to the house. Every line of her body betrayed agitation.
Verna hurried down to meet her, drawing her into the library.
“Winifred dear, whatever has happened?”
“Such a commotion, you never saw! I always knew he was no good!”
“Who is no good?”
“Lord Belmont, the man who had to leave because he was so bad – ”
“Winifred, I forbid you to talk about him like that,” Verna corrected her at once. “Michael is not bad.”
“Wait till you hear what he’s done now. He broke into Belmont Park last night and attacked his brother!”
A cold hand seemed to clutch Verna.
“I just don’t believe it.”
“He tried to steal a solid gold snuff box and when his brother appeared, he attacked him, leaving him covered in blood. If it hadn’t been for Ratby, his servant, coming to the rescue, he’d be dead by now.”
“I refuse to believe Michael attacked him,” Verna stated stubbornly. “It’s all a vicious lie.”
“Well, he’s in a Police cell right this minute,” came back Winifred. “Ratby knocked him out and summoned the Police. He’s charged with theft and attempted murder.”
Verna covered her face in horror.
This was too terrible to be true.
Then she pulled herself together.
“Tell them to bring the car round for me at once. I am going out.”
Winifred knew that when Verna spoke in that tone there was no point in arguing.
She sent a message for the car and went to fetch her hat. Wherever Verna was going, she was going with her.
In a few minutes they were speeding along the lane towards the village.
Verna drove with a set face hiding her inner turmoil.
For months she had yearned for Michael, dreamed of him.
Now the dream had turned into nightmare. If there was even a grain of truth in the story, his life was ruined.
Why had he suddenly returned, yet not contacted her?
“How badly hurt is Anthony?” she asked.
“I wondered when you were going to remember to ask about him. You don’t seem to be worried about your fiancé.”
“He is not my fiancé and he never will be!”
“But you do want to know how he is – at least?”
“I want to know for Michael’s sake.”
“They say he was dreadfully knocked about, but he will recover.”
Verna’s only response was an agitated cry of,
“Oh, will we never get there?”
“This is not the way to Belmont Park,” Winifred suddenly objected.
“I am not going there. I’m going to town.”
Once in town, she headed for the Police station.
To her infinite relief, she recognised the Sergeant on the desk as the father of one of the Challoner maids.
She had met him several times and he greeted her respectfully.
“Good morning, my Lady. This is an unusual place to see you.”
Verna had felt uncertain of how she should behave, but now she made a conscious decision.
Her manner became deliberately haughty.
“I hear you are holding the wretch who is accused of attacking Mr. Anthony Belmont.”
“We are indeed, my Lady, and there’s no question of his guilt. Theft, burglary, attempted murder – he’ll be in prison for the rest of his life.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Verna declared, suppressing a desire to scream out in anguish. “Now I want to see him.”
“Oh, my Lady, you mustn’t go anywhere near him. You wouldn’t be safe.”
“But I must see this devil. I want to accuse him to his face. Let him look me in the eye, if he can.”
The Sergeant looked awkward.
He knew he should not allow this, but deference to the Challoners was second nature to him.
“Just for a few minutes, then. Come through here.”
He led her to the back, through a door that led to a narrow corridor where there was the station’s only cell.
The door was made entirely of bars and in the poor light she could dimly make out a man sitting on a bed. His clothes were all torn and blood stained, his face bruised and unshaven.
“Please leave us,” she asked tersely.
The Sergeant hesitated.
“It’s hardly safe, my Lady,” he protested.
But he weakened at the sight of the note in Verna’s hand and quickly slipped away.
Left alone Michael and Verna stared at each other in a mixture of joy and horror.
Then they flung themselves against the bars from either side in a vain effort to embrace.
“You came,” he murmured. “I was so afraid that you wouldn’t – after the things I said to you at our last meeting – about not loving you. I lied, I lied.”
“I know,” she called passionately. “I always knew. My love, my own love! What are you doing here? What has happened?”
“My dearest Verna,” he cried, kissing her as best he could through the bars. “I was a fool. I let myself be taken in by a trick. I should have known better, but I never suspected – ”
“What kind of a trick?”
“I’ve been in Liverpool, working in a shop. I don’t know how Ratby found me there, but he came in and began telling me about you and how Anthony was trying to bully you into marrying him.
“I came home at on
ce to stop it. I thought – I don’t know really what I thought – that perhaps we might escape together if you still wanted me? ”
“If – ? You are all I want in the world. I have told Anthony that I will never marry him. Surely he must have accepted that?”
“He has never accepted that he couldn’t have what he wanted,” Michael said bitterly. “He’s hated me all his life because I was the elder.”
“What happened last night?”
“It was dark when I arrived, too late to disturb you. So I went home and found Anthony in the drawing room. I didn’t break in, I walked in through the French windows, which were open – purposely as I now recognise.
“We quarrelled and then fought. He spoke about you in such disgraceful terms, so I floored him. Then someone knocked me down from behind. It must have been Ratby.
“I woke up in here to find myself charged with all manner of crimes. The French window had been smashed, there was a gold snuffbox in my pocket and Anthony had far worse injuries than I ever inflicted.
“It was done deliberately. I’ve been thinking hard, and I realise now that Ratby lured me back on Anthony’s orders. While I was lying unconscious, they smashed the window, planted the snuffbox on me and made Anthony’s injuries look worse.
“Then Ratby told the policeman a pack of lies. He denied coming to Liverpool and returning south with me. He said he had been taking a last look round the grounds, saw me breaking in and came to protect his Master.”
“But why should Anthony do this?” she wept.
“Because he wants to destroy me utterly. He thinks that way he will win you.”
“Never!” she cried vehemently. “I’ll never be his, only yours. I’ll go and see him now and put a stop to this.”
“No, Verna, you must not go. You aren’t safe with him. There is nothing he wouldn’t do.”
“I shall take Winifred with me. Even you are afraid of her. Trust me, my own true love. All will be well. We will be together after this.”
He gazed at her though the iron bars, his face full of aching and longing.
He loved her so much and he was so fearful for her.
“Together,” he whispered. “You and I – together.”
“Have faith, dearest love,” she told him. “We are meant to be together. It is our destiny. I know it!”
The power with which she said, ‘I know it,’ thrilled Michael even in these circumstances.
What an incredible woman she was! How strong, how brave! And how lucky the man who won her!
And yet he was full of dread. He knew, as she did not, how unpleasant his brother could be.
But he forced himself to smile and touch her face with his fingertips. As she turned and left him, he kept the smile on his face until she was out of sight.
Only then, as he stood alone in the darkness, did he let it fade back once again into the blankness of despair.
*
“I have come to see Mr. Belmont,” Verna declared to the maid who opened the door of Belmont Park.
The maid nodded. She had been given her orders.
Mr. Anthony was officially at death’s door and so could receive no visitors. The only exception to this rule was Lady Verna, who was to be shown up at once.
Winifred managed to follow Verna up the stairs as far as the bedroom door.
But there Ratby blocked her.
“I can’t allow you in, I’m afraid,” he sneered with every appearance of regret. “Orders.”
“If you think I’m about to let my Lady enter his bedroom without me – ” Winifred began, outraged. “It’s shocking!”
“It would indeed be shockin’ if my Master were not lying ’elpless,” sighed Ratby. “But ’e’s that badly ’urt –surely he can be allowed the comfort of a few words with his betrothed?”
“Betrothed?” Winifred snorted. “She’s no more his betrothed than I am. She’ll never marry him.”
A look of viciousness and cunning combined crept over Ratby’s face.
“Well, you know, I think she probably will!”
Verna had already slipped past into the bedroom. Now Ratby closed the door behind her, leaving her alone with the figure lying in the bed.
He did not move, but watched as she approached. The curtains were all closed and in the poor light she could not be sure how badly he was hurt.
“Thank you for coming,” he croaked at last. “Did you hear what happened?”
“I heard a story that I could hardly believe.”
“Believe it. He tried to kill me, Verna. Now he’s behind bars where he belongs and where he’ll stay for the rest of his life.”
She drew a sharp breath.
“No! You cannot do that to him.”
“I have no choice in the matter. He must pay for what he has done.”
Something in his voice – a hint of smug pleasure – told her that Michael had been right all the time. This was no misunderstanding, but a vile trick.
With a swift movement she pulled back the curtains and turned to face him.
In the suddenly brilliant light she saw that his eyes were glittering with vicious pleasure.
“It is true,” she breathed. “Everything Michael said – he was right. You lured him back here to trick him.”
For a moment she thought he would deny it. But then he shrugged and heaved himself from the bed, pulling on his dressing gown.
“All right,” he admitted. “I tricked him. He came here, just as I meant him to.”
“And the rest – he didn’t steal from you – or try to kill you?”
“I am very sure he’d have liked to kill me, but no, all we did was exchange a few punches. Ratby inflicted most of my bruises on my orders after Michael passed out. Then he sent for the Police.”
“Anthony, for pity’s sake, you cannot do this. It is not too late. You can withdraw the charges – ”
“Could I? Yes, I suppose I could – if I was to be persuaded.”
“And what would it take to persuade you?”
But she knew the answer already. It was there in his face and in the feeling of mounting horror within her.
“No,” she screamed. “No!”
“Why not? You know I want to marry you. Think of me as a man ready to go to desperate lengths to win the hand of the woman he loves.”
“Love! You know nothing of love.”
“Call it what you will. I want you and I am going to have you by any means possible.”
“Never,” she yelled violently at him. “I will never marry you.”
“Then Michael will stay in prison until he dies.”
The casual way he spoke made her want to strike him, but she controlled herself.
Michael’s fate depended on what she did now.
“And if I do agree to marry you,” she said slowly. “You will order him to be released?”
“On the day after our wedding.”
“No. He must be released first or no wedding.”
“You are hardly in a position to make conditions.”
“On the contrary, I will never find myself in such a strong position again. If I marry you first, I won’t have a single card to play when you break your word.”
“So you don’t trust me?”
“That surprises you?” she demanded bitterly. “No, I don’t trust you. I know you’ll go back on your promise if I give you the chance, so I will not give it to you.”
“And why should I trust your word?”
“Because I am not you,” she answered simply.
He considered for a moment and then shrugged.
“All right. We’ll compromise. Our engagement is announced, we have a big party, then I drop the charges and Michael is released.”
Verna felt her head spinning. How could this be happening? She was about to take a step that would break her heart forever, yet she stood here negotiating the complete destruction of her life with as much cool nerve as a duellist going in for the kill.
But she had no cho
ice. She had said she would do anything for Michael, even die for him. What was being asked was a thousand times worse – not to die – but to live in misery in order to keep him safe.
She would do it.
No matter what it cost, she would do it and count any sacrifice worthwhile, as long as she could save him.
“Very well,” she said, managing to speak calmly. “When he is safely out of the country – I will marry you.”
“Oh, no! He will be here for our wedding. In fact he will be my best man. Then the whole world can see that he and I are friends.”
His tone was final and she knew she had negotiated as far as she dared.
“I will – marry you,” she muttered in a low voice.
“Good. We will marry and I am certain that we’ll be happy once you understand the behaviour I expect from you.”
“What?”
She stared at him.
“From this moment you will not attempt to contact Michael again. No secret visits to the Police station and no letters. If I find out that you have disobeyed me, our agreement is off. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly – clear,” she stammered in a dead voice.
“Then let us seal our bargain with a kiss.”
He took her in his arms and pulled her close.
“My pretty bride,” he murmured, “my wife – mine forever.”
She heard no more.
Darkness descended and she collapsed against him.
*
On the night before her wedding Verna sat at her dressing table, staring hopelessly into the mirror.
Could that despairing creature be her? Could these bleak eyes and this dead face really belong to her?
She was glad to be lifeless. If she had had to feel everything that had happened in the last three weeks, she knew she could not have born it.
It was like watching someone else move through a dream – the announcement of her engagement to Anthony, the grand party at which she had just smiled and smiled, and finally the news that Michael had been released – all charges withdrawn.
She had seen him only once when Anthony came calling, bringing Michael with him for ‘a family occasion’.
There had been no chance to speak to him alone, but she had met his eyes, seen the agony that matched her own and known that he understood everything.
In silence they had looked at each other and the air was full of their unspoken goodbyes.
It Is Love Page 13
