Saved By A Saint

by Barbara Cartland

  “I am so glad that you are back,” Miss Dickson remarked, “that I feel half the age I was yesterday!”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “I will have you dancing before I have finished,” he chuckled.

  “That will be the day!” Miss Dickson replied.

  The Marquis kissed her goodnight and he thought that she walked up the stairs far more easily and sprightly than she had been able to do before.

  ‘Christina is right,’ he told himself. ‘What she wants is feeding up and the comfort of being here. That is why she is going to stay at Melverley until she dies!’

  He thought as he walked back to the drawing room that he would arrange a suite for Miss Dickson so that she could have all her own belongings around her.

  She would be waited on and have every possible comfort and it struck him that perhaps one day she would teach his sons, as she had taught him.

  It was an idea, but he brushed it aside.

  ‘I have no intention of marrying,’ he told himself.

  Then, as he reached the drawing room door, he remembered who was inside.

  ‘Dammit all!’ he swore to himself. ‘If that is my Heir Presumptive, I must have a son as quickly as possible!’

  As neither the Marquis nor Christina wished to listen to Terence, who continued to be exceedingly voluble, they soon retired to bed.

  Nanny helped her undress.

  When she had left her, Christina thought how much more delightful it would have been if she and the Marquis could have dined alone.

  ‘His tiresome cousin is spoiling everything,’ she thought to herself.

  Then she remembered how much they had done and how happy they had made so many people.

  She said a prayer of gratitude knowing that only God could have brought the Marquis home so safely.

  ‘I am grateful – very – very – grateful,’ she thought.

  She wished that she could say so in Church.

  She suddenly remembered that a secret passage in this part of the house led to a small consecrated Chapel.

  It had been used first by the Jesuits, who were hiding from the persecution of Queen Elizabeth’s men and later, it had been re-consecrated for the Royalists who hid from the Roundheads in Melverley Hall.

  There was a Private Chaplain who performed the Service of Communion weekly for everyone in the house and it was, however, impossible for them all to fit into the small Chapel.

  They therefore used to go in two at a time, with somebody keeping watch in the hall while they did so, as there was always the possibility of a troop of Roundheads suddenly appearing in the drive.

  One Verley, who was on Cromwell’s wanted list, had remained undetected and undiscovered for over five years and he had been hidden all that time at Melverley Hall and only when King Charles II came back to England was he free to come out of hiding.

  Now Christina thought it would be the right place to go to give thanks for the safe homecoming of the Marquis.

  Ever since she had been a small child she had played in the secret passages and she had been shown them by the Marquis’s father, who had been very fond of her.

  She jumped out of bed and pressed a knot on a panel near the mantelpiece.

  It opened.

  Picking up one of the candles beside her bed, Christina stepped into the darkness behind it.

  She knew the way and did not even stop to put on her dressing gown.

  The passage smelled of old wood, yet it was not damp and there were occasional flickers of moonlight, which came from under the eaves.

  Christina moved quickly because she knew the way so well.

  She had almost reached the Chapel when she heard someone speaking.

  She stopped instinctively, shading the candle with her hand.

  Then she recognised the voice.

  It was Terence Verley’s.

  She was just about to walk on when she heard him say,

  “You have brought the drug with you?”

  “’Course I ’ave, sir.”

  She knew it must be the valet who replied because the servants had told her that he had a Cockney accent.

  “And you think the man will co-operate?”

  “I speaks to ’im this mornin’ and tells ’im what you’ll pay ’im,” the valet replied. “’E’s not bin in ’is Lordship’s employment for that long and from all I ’ears, ’e’s a bit soft in the ’ead!”

  “But you think he will do what we want?” Terence demanded.

  “’E’ll do it, sir. I’ve promised ’im five pounds, and ’is eyes lit up like a beacon!” the valet answered.

  “Very well,” Terence said. “Go and fetch him.”

  Christina drew in her breath.

  She walked on, moving slowly now and far more carefully than she had before.

  She passed the Chapel and instead went on to the end of the passage.

  She realised that what she heard meant that Terence Verley was intending to do something that would definitely hurt the Marquis.

  ‘I have to save him – I have to!’ she insisted to herself.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Marquis had climbed into bed.

  Then he decided that before he went to sleep he would make a list of the items he had promised the farmers during the day.

  He was afraid that when the morning came he would have forgotten which farm required what and he therefore, in his strong upright writing, put it down on a pad that always stood beside his bed.

  He was just checking that what he had promised the first farm was correct when he glanced up.

  He was then startled into immobility.

  A woman in white was standing in a dark part of the room where the light from the candles did not reach.

  It swept through his mind that this must be the White Lady, the ghost of the Countess Sylvia.

  He thought he must be dreaming, but she was definitely there, silhouetted against the panelling.

  She stood still until, with an astonished note in his voice, he exclaimed,

  “Christina!”

  She then moved quickly towards him with her finger to her lips.

  As she reached the bed she said in a whisper that he could hardly hear,

  “Come – quickly! Come – with me! It is – very important!”

  She did not wait for the Marquis to answer, but moved back the way she had come.

  She stepped through the panelled door that was open beside the fireplace.

  The Marquis had learnt to be swift and not to prevaricate when anything out of the ordinary occurred.

  He leapt out of bed and picked up his robe, which Yates had left on a chair and he had slipped into it by the time he reached the open panel.

  Christina was inside and now she was holding a candle in her hands.

  She did not speak to him, but merely started to move along the secret passage.

  The Marquis had played in these passages as a child, but he had almost forgotten his way.

  Now he was recalling the thrill it had given him when he had first been shown them by his father.

  He wondered what had upset Christina and what was happening.

  Then, as she stopped and put the candle down on the floor, he heard a voice.

  He was aware that it came from the room where h his cousin Terence was sleeping.

  Then he heard him say,

  “Good evening! My valet tells me that you are prepared to do something for me which I think will amuse his Lordship.”

  “Yes, sir,” a man replied.

  Now Christina moved a tiny shutter in the wall.

  The Marquis remembered that he would be able to see through it into the bedroom.

  He could only look through it with one eye, but it was enough for him to see that his cousin Terence was sitting on the bed.

  Standing in front of him was the man he had seen at the door of his room whom he knew was his valet.

  There was also another man wearing the white coat and apron of a chef.r />
  The Marquis guessed, although he did not think that he had seen the man before, that he was an assistant to the chef he had brought with him from London.

  He suspected it was the young man who had been walking with his chef towards the kitchen when he had spoken to him about Mrs. Boswin the cook.

  “Now what I have planned,” he heard Terence saying, “is a joke on my cousin, the Marquis. It is something that you add to the food and which, when he eats it, makes a man laugh heartily even if he is depressed or has just heard bad news.”

  Terence paused and looked at the young man.

  He was thinking to himself that there was a somewhat vacant expression on his face.

  “Do you understand what I am saying?” he asked.

  “I-I thinks so – sir.”

  “Then what you have to do,” Terence went on, “is to add it to the soufflé that I intend to ask for as a special dish at the end of dinner tomorrow night. Is that clear?”

  The young man nodded.

  “Mix it carefully so that no one will suspect anything until his Lordship starts laughing.”

  There was no response.

  Terence then brought something from his pocket.

  “Here is a sovereign in advance,” he said, “and you shall have another nine when you have put what is in this small bottle into the soufflé.”

  The Marquis saw him hand the bottle to the assistant chef, who looked at it curiously.

  “And of course,” Terence went on, “as it is to be a joke, you must tell no one – absolutely no one, otherwise they may warn his Lordship and he will not eat the dish.”

  “In which case,” the valet warned, “you’ll get nothin’.”

  “I’ll do as you say, sir,” the assistant chef murmured.

  “Thank you. I know it is something that will amuse his Lordship,” Terence smirked.

  The valet opened the door for the assistant chef and he went from the room.

  Neither Terence, nor his valet spoke until they were quite certain that the assistant chef was out of hearing.

  Then Terence Verley said reflectively,

  “It should work just as we are drinking port and there are no servants in the room.”

  “Then ’e’ll do what you tells ’im,” the valet said.

  “I will have both cheques ready,” Terence went on as if he had not heard what his valet had said, “and as soon as he has signed them you will leave for London immediately. You are certain that stable lad you spoke to will take you?”

  “’E thinks we’re goin’ to a bull fight what ’e particularly wants to see, and ’e’ll be back afore breakfast. ’E’s in for a nasty surprise when we reaches London.”

  “I am only afraid,” Terence said, “that someone will talk.”

  “I doubts it, sir,” the valet answered. “Them as wants money always manage to keep their mouths shut!”

  “That is true,” Terence Verley agreed. “Now let me go to bed and for God’s sake give me another glass of that wine you brought upstairs for me. I am worn out with all this plotting and planning!”

  The man had obviously anticipated what his Master required and he was already pouring some rich red wine into a large glass.

  Christina reached up and closed the peephole that the Marquis had been watching the saga through.

  As if he knew what she wanted, he walked slowly and very quietly back to his bedroom.

  As he stepped inside, Christina followed him.

  She was in the shadows by the door in the panelling, but the Marquis was aware that he could see the outline of her exquisite body through the light material of her nightgown.

  Quite unselfconsciously Christina asked,

  “You – realise what he – intends to – do?”

  “Of course I do,” the Marquis answered, “and I have heard of that drug. It completely numbs the brain so that the victim does exactly as he is told without question and without being able to think.”

  Christina, despite herself, gave a little cry.

  “You must be careful – very careful!”

  “You have saved me a great deal of money and my self respect,” the Marquis said. “I will turn Terence out of the house tomorrow morning and, if he goes to prison or starves, I will not raise a finger to help him!”

  He spoke quietly. At the same time, Christina recognised how angry he was.

  Instinctively she put her hand on his arm.

  “Please – be careful – be very careful, my Lord,” she said again. “I don’t – trust him. If he cannot obtain the money by this means, he will try another.”

  The Marquis did not speak and she added,

  “Papa always said that – a cornered rat is dangerous. I think you would be wiser – to postpone giving him a – definite answer and not antagonise him.”

  Unexpectedly the Marquis smiled.

  “You look at the moment like a small child,” he said. “Yet you have an extremely astute brain and you are as wise as my mother would have been where I am concerned.”

  “Then you will – do as I suggest, my Lord?” Christina asked.

  “Because you have saved me from giving that young swine money which should be spent on the estate I will think of another way of getting rid of him, but it will not be easy.”

  “I know he is dangerous,” Christina replied. “If anything – happened to you, can you imagine what it would mean to all the people who live here, and your – family, who depend on you?”

  The Marquis knew that she was talking sense.

  “Go to bed, Christina,” he said, “I don’t need to tell you that you have been wonderful! I will think of some way of removing my cousin Terence from Melverley Hall, if nothing else!”

  Christina smiled.

  Then, as she stepped inside the open panel, the Marquis asked,

  “Incidentally, what were you doing in the secret passage at this time of night?”

  “I was on my way to the Chapel,” Christina answered, “to thank God for all you have – done today and for the happiness – you have – brought to the farmers.”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “So that was the reason. I thought when I first saw you standing there that you were the White Lady come to warn me of danger.”

  “If I was,” Christina answered, “then you must be the Black Knight who saves yourself and everybody else from – your cousin.”

  As she finished speaking, she pulled the panel door to very quietly.

  The Marquis found himself alone in his room.

  He could hardly believe that what had just happened could be true and yet he supposed it was something he might have expected of his disreputable cousin.

  Terence was obviously desperate for money.

  ‘I must think what to do,’ he told himself as he climbed back into bed.

  As he blew out the candles, he thought of Christina praying in the secret Chapel, which, of course, he remembered well.

  She was right in going there because only prayer could be of assistance in a situation such as this.

  *

  Christina came down to breakfast the following morning feeling very apprehensive.

  She had prayed for a long time in the Chapel.

  And she was sure that the Marquis must find a way of getting rid of his cousin without making him angry, as in which case he would find another way of obtaining the money he required.

  She thought how frightening it was that only the Marquis stood between Terence and the title and with it went the huge fortune that the Head of the Family administered.

  She was quite certain that if Terence became the fifth Marquis none of the money would be given to the farmers or the pensioners.

  And the estate would become even more run down than it was at the moment.

  ‘Oh – please – God, help us find a way of getting – rid of him!’ she prayed fervently as she dressed.

  When she found the Marquis in the breakfast room, she felt an irrepressible joy in her heart becaus
e he was still alive and well.

  As he knew it was what she wanted to hear, the Marquis said,

  “I have found a way of carrying out your instructions.”

  “Y-you – have?” Christina murmured. “Please – tell me – what it is.”

  The Marquis sat down at the head of the table and poured himself out a cup of coffee.

  Christina realised that he wished her to help herself to something to eat before they discussed what he had in mind.

  She hastily took the lid off the first entrée dish she came to and put a small amount of scrambled egg onto a plate.

  As she then sat down at the table, the Marquis said,

  “You were right to warn me last night and it would be a mistake to antagonise my cousin until he has nothing to lose by attempting to kill me.”

  Christina drew in her breath.

  “It seems a – terrible thing to say, but I feel he – might do that – if you refuse to – help him.”

  “I find it difficult to think that a member of my family could stoop to murder,” the Marquis said, “but because it is a possibility, I have decided to give him two thousand pounds and send him back to London.”

  Christina made a little sound but did not interrupt.

  “I will promise him that, when I too return to London, which will be in the near future,” the Marquis went on, “I will discuss with my Solicitors the possibility of making him an allowance which he will receive monthly, of course on the condition that he does not exceed it.”

  “And – and you will pay his debts?” Christina asked.

  The Marquis made a gesture with his hands.

  “I suppose I have no alternative,” he answered, “but it is something that I must somehow make certain does not occur again.”

  “I hope you will be – able to do that,” Christina said, “but I don’t – think it is – going to be easy.”

  Her words were prophetic.

  When at noon the Marquis came back with Christina, after they had been riding, Terence had only just come downstairs.

  Christina disappeared and the Marquis took him into the study.

  He told him what he had arranged and knew at once that Terence was disappointed.

  He was still thinking of what he had planned for the evening and was determined not to leave The Hall.