The Benevent Treasure

by Patricia Wentworth

  Since Candida was having the last of her driving lessons, he had a good excuse for getting out of the way for some hours. He told her about the scene.

  ‘Darling, it was completely shattering. I’ve seen her a bit on the high horse before now, but nothing like this, I give you my word. I can’t imagine what has happened to her.’

  ‘She doesn’t like being crossed,’ said Candida. ‘Aunt Cara doesn’t do it ever, and you haven’t much. And then I come here, and she doesn’t like me a lot anyhow, so when I start crossing her it gets her back up.’

  ‘Why did you start crossing her?’

  ‘I couldn’t help it – not if I didn’t want to be a trodden slave! She started on about Stephen being an architect and so I couldn’t have lunch with him or anything like that, and I couldn’t let her get away with that sort of thing – now could I?’

  ‘Well-’

  ‘I wasn’t going to anyhow! That is the way poor little Aunt Cara has been ground down until she hasn’t got a will of her own or enough courage for anything except to say yes when Aunt Olivia says yes, and no when Aunt Olivia says no.’

  Derek looked at her, half laughing, half serious.

  ‘If Stephen is the bone of contention, you paraded it a bit last night, didn’t you?’

  She coloured brightly.

  ‘I suppose I did.’

  ‘Anything in it?’

  ‘Oh, Derek, yes!’

  ‘Have you fixed it up?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Last night.’

  He took his left hand off the wheel and patted her shoulder.

  ‘He’s a good chap. Jenny and I are fixing things up too.’

  He told her about Jenny and the garage, slowing the car down and even stopping on the grass verge before they came to the straggle of bungalows outside the town. At the end he said,

  ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen now. She may shoot me out straight away, or she may have a stab at rescuing me. I didn’t get as far as telling her that Jenny and I are going to take over the garage, so she doesn’t know the worst.’

  ‘But you’ll have to tell her now.’

  ‘I don’t want to upset Aunt Cara.’

  Candida reflected that this was Jenny’s business. She could have said plenty of things herself, but she had enough on her hands without Derek’s affairs. She said,

  ‘I’ll be late for my lesson!’

  He put out his hand to the switch and drew it back again.

  ‘I’m not the only one who has put a foot wrong, am I?’ he said with a hint of malice.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you’ve got rather a lot of make-up on this morning, haven’t you, darling?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Well, I do. And it doesn’t quite prevent me from seeing that you’ve got a bruise on your cheek and a scratch on your chin. Being the soul of tact, you will notice that I haven’t asked, “How come?” ’

  She flushed to the roots of her hair, but she did not speak.

  His eyebrows rose.

  ‘She hit you? I could have told you that girlish confidences would be out of place.’

  ‘There weren’t any – you needn’t be horrid about it. And it wasn’t about Stephen at all. It was because I said I thought Aunt Cara was ill. And she is. I had to help her upstairs last night.’

  He whistled softly.

  ‘Darling, I could have told you that too – it’s quite fatal. I did it once when I first came, and had my nose more or less bitten to the bone. I suppose it was one of those heavy bracelets that scratched your chin. They are practically fetters, but she always wears them when she wants to be grand. Well, we had better be going. Are you seeing Stephen?’

  ‘I’m lunching with him.’

  He laughed.

  ‘I’m having a heart to heart with Mr. Adamson at the garage. Burning the boats, you know. He’s in a hurry to get everything fixed up. He wants to hand over the house and a lot of the business and take a bit of an easy.’

  It was odd to meet Stephen with everything changed between them. He brought a picnic lunch, and they drove out to the place where they had quarrelled and ate it there. It was one of those early days of spring when the sun shines sweetly for perhaps half an hour, and then without a warning the sky clouds up and the rain comes plumping down.

  They sat in the car and talked. It was past hoping for that at such close quarters Stephen would not see what Derek had seen – the slight change in the contour of the cheek, the faint dulling of the skin, and the line where the bracelet had scratched her chin. At a little distance and to the casual eye there was not much to be seen, but where there was no distance at all and the eye was that of a lover, concealment could hardly be hoped for. Stephen exclaimed, questioned, cross-examined – and went up in smoke.

  ‘That settles it! You must get away at once!’

  ‘Oh, no, we have an amnesty.’

  ‘Nonsense! Did she beg your pardon?’

  Candida laughed.

  ‘Of course she didn’t! I don’t suppose she has ever begged anyone’s pardon in her life. We just ignore the whole thing.’

  ‘All very well for her, but where do you come in?’

  ‘Darling, come down off the high horse! She lost her temper, and that was all there was to it. You can’t have a brawl with a great-aunt – it isn’t done. Besides, there is Aunt Cara. She is ill, and I think she is very unhappy, and she does rather cling to me. No, Stephen, listen – you really must! I can’t just rush away in a temper and leave the bits lying about all over the place. What I thought I would do was to let a day or two go by, and then I must begin to look for a job in earnest.’

  He put his arms round her.

  ‘You don’t need to look for a job – you’ve got one. I rang up my uncle this morning and told him you were taking me on.’

  ‘You didn’t!’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I? I don’t have to walk round my relations like a cat on hot bricks. He was thrilled, and suggested I should bring you over for the next week-end. And then, I think, it would be a good plan if you came and stayed with Cousin Louisa for a bit while I am getting on with the jobs round here.’

  ‘But she hasn’t asked me.’

  Stephen said in a purposeful voice,

  ‘She will.’

  Chapter Twenty-two

  However much Miss Cara might have wanted to stay quietly in her bed, cosseted by Anna and visited by Candida and Derek, she was not permitted to do so. She could stay where she was for the morning, and she could have her afternoon nap, but she must get up and come down for tea. Candida, who had come to enquire, stood unnoticed by the half-open door and heard Miss Olivia dealing with her reluctance.

  ‘If you do not feel able to get up, I shall be obliged to send for Dr. Stokes.’

  Miss Cara said in her mousy voice,

  ‘He is away.’

  ‘How do you know?’ said Miss Olivia sharply.

  ‘Louisa mentioned it.’

  ‘Then I shall send for his partner. We haven’t met him yet, but I suppose he is competent, and I have no doubt that Louisa has supplied you with his name.’

  ‘It is Gardiner. She says he is very clever. But there is no need to send for him – I am quite all right.’

  ‘Then you can come down to tea. I will ring for Anna.’

  As she had not been seen, Candida thought it best to slip away.

  Derek did not return until it was time to change. The evening dragged. It was Miss Cara who saved the situation by asking for music.

  ‘Some of those nice old waltzes, and the duets you and Candida were practising.’

  Once at the piano, it was easy to stay there. Miss Cara, pleased and relaxed, leaned back in her chair, fingering out the tunes upon her knee or humming a bar or two in a kind of toneless whisper. With yesterday’s late evening for an excuse, she was able to make a move before ten o’clock, and Miss Olivia went with her.

  Derek and Candida looked at each other.<
br />
  ‘You got home all right?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Stephen dropped me at the gate. Did you get anything fixed?’

  ‘I’m practically a garage proprietor. I’ve been going through the books with Mr. Adamson. If he’d any tact he’d have turned me over to Jenny, but not a bit of it! And in between showing me the ropes he told me all about everything that had ever happened from the word go.’

  Candida laughed.

  ‘Where was Jenny?’

  ‘Sitting behind the counter, and coming backwards and forwards with ledgers and those spiky things you stick bills on, and reminding him about anything he happened to leave out. You know, she really is a marvel. I shall never know half as much about it all as she does.’

  They put away the music and went up together with so much friendly feeling that it seemed natural enough when he put an arm about her and kissed her good-night at the top of the stairs.

  She was just going to get into bed, when Anna came in.

  ‘Perhaps if you will come and say good night to Miss Cara – ’

  ‘Is anything the matter?’

  Anna flung out her hands.

  ‘She is sad – she cries all the time!’

  ‘But why? She was all right downstairs. Derek played, and we sang – ’

  ‘Yes, yes – it is because of that – it reminds her of the old days! And then she thinks that Mr. Derek will be going away and there will be no one to play and sing any more – and she thinks that you will go away too! And she thinks that when she loves anyone it is always the same thing – they go away and they do not come back! She thinks about Mr. Alan and she weeps for him!’

  Candida said, ‘I’ll come.’

  But when they reached Miss Cara’s door it was opened with great suddenness by Miss Olivia in a black velvet wrap. Candida thought she looked like an angry raven. Her foot stamped the floor and she said, whispering fiercely,

  ‘She is not to be disturbed! I do not know what Anna is thinking of to bring you here! Go to your room and stay there

  She stepped back as she spoke, and the door was shut. There was the sound of a turning key.

  Anna said, ‘Dio mio!’ And then she had Candida by the sleeve, pulling her away. When they were round the turn where the stairs went down she stopped. Her hand shook on Candida’s arm. She said in a stumbling voice, ‘After forty years – still I am afraid of her – ’

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The last thing Candida heard before she slept was the rain dashing against the windows. It went through her mind that it must be driving in, and then she slid away into a dream in which the sound was changed to the voice of someone weeping bitterly and comfortless. She didn’t know who it was, and she didn’t know how long it went on, but she waked suddenly with the wind swirling into the room and the curtains wet and flapping. It was quite difficult to get the windows shut. There was a gale blowing, and the casements strained against it. After she had got them fastened there was quite a lot of water on the floor. There were cloths on a pail in the housemaid’s cupboard just across the passage. She fetched them, got the water mopped up, and then found she had to change her nightgown.

  When she and the floor were both dry she stood a minute and listened to the wind. It came against the house in great roaring waves and went howling through the gap between the old back wall and the hill. It came to her that Miss Cara might be frightened. She remembered hearing her say that the wind at night was a sound that frightened her, and Miss Olivia had said ‘Nonsense!’ very sharply. She wondered whether Aunt Cara was awake in the dark and afraid. There was only a bathroom between the sisters’ rooms, but she didn’t think Cara would call for help, or that Olivia would come to her if she did. She wondered if the door would still be locked.

  And then, without any conscious decision on her part, she had her own door open and was feeling her way to the end of the passage. When she turned the corner she had the light behind her, and so came to the head of the stairs. The hall below was a black pit. She skirted it and went softly down the corridor to Miss Cara’s room. When she came to the door she stood there listening. Here in the middle of the house the sound of the wind was heavy and dull. No other sound came through it. If she had called aloud, no one would have heard her. She could try the handle and have no fear that anyone would wake. She turned it, and felt the door give under her hand. The room was perfectly dark – no shape of the windows, no faintest glimmer of light, the wind shut out, the curtains closely drawn. She could hear no sound of breathing. She could not even distinguish the position of the bed. There was only darkness and the heavy droning of the wind.

  She stood like that and let the minutes go by. If Miss Cara was awake and afraid, surely she would have put on the light. She wouldn’t just lie in the dark and do nothing about it. After what seemed quite a long time Candida drew back and closed the door. She did not know, she could not have known, how bitterly she was going to regret this most reasonable action. Go over it as she would, she did not see how she could have done anything but what she did. And yet it hurt her at her heart, and always would.

  It may have been the faint jar of the closing door that touched Miss Cara’s sleeping thought. It may have been the next wild gust that shook the house, or it may have been an earlier one. It may have been the sense of Candida’s presence. No one was ever to know. Sometimes a very small thing slips into a dream and troubles it, or the utmost raging of a storm may leave it untroubled and apart. At some time during that night of wind and rain Cara Benevent rose up out of her bed, put slippers on her feet, and wrapped a dressing-gown about her. There was no means of telling whether she had a light to see by. It was certain that she left her room, but whether she went walking or sleeping no one could know. She went, and she did not return.

  Candida went back to her room and slept until the cold grey dawn came up. She was awake when Anna burst into the room. She was dressed, but she carried no tray. The tears ran down her cheeks and her eyes were wild. She fell down on her knees by the bed, her arms flung out and the breath catching in her throat.

  ‘My Miss Cara – oh, my Miss Cara! Why did I leave her – why did I not stay with her!’

  Candida pulled herself up in the bed.

  ‘Anna, what is it? Is Aunt Cara ill?’

  Anna gave a long wailing cry.

  ‘If she were ill, I would nurse her, I would stay with her – I would not come running to anyone else! She is dead! My Miss Cara is dead!’

  Candida felt a coldness creep over her. It slowed her movements, her words. Her tongue stumbled as she said,

  ‘Are – you – sure?’

  ‘Would I say it if I were not sure? Would I not be with her? I leave her because there is nothing we can do any more! She lies there at the foot of the stairs and she is dead! The storm frightens her – she walks in her sleep – she falls and strikes her head! The old houses – the stairs are not safe – they are so narrow and so steep! She falls, my poor Miss Cara, and she is dead! And will you tell me how I am to tell Miss Olivia?“

  ‘She doesn’t know?’

  ‘How should she know? She is expecting me to bring the tea! How can I go to her and tell her, “Your tea is here, and Miss Cara is dead”? The hardest heart in the world could not do it – I cannot do it!’

  Candida was out of her bed, slipping into her clothes, running a comb through her hair, putting on a grey and white pullover and a grey tweed skirt because they were warm and everything in her seemed to have turned to ice. They went down the stairs to the hall. Miss Cara lay in a twisted heap where the left-hand newel met the floor. One arm was doubled up under her and she was cold and stiff. There could not be any doubt at all that she was dead.

  Candida, on her knees by the body, found herself whispering, ‘Did you move her?’

  Anna had sunk down upon the bottom step. She sat bowed forward, her head in her hands. She said on a low sobbing breath,

  ‘No – no – I only touch her cheek, her hand. I know
that she is dead – ’

  ‘Yes, she is dead. We mustn’t move her.’

  ‘I know – it is the law.’

  ‘We must send for the doctor.’

  Anna caught her breath.

  ‘He is away – only yesterday Miss Cara said so. It is his partner who will come, Dr. Gardiner – but what can anyone do now?’

  Candida said, ‘Fetch Mr. Derek!’

  He came, as shocked as she was herself. They knelt on either side of Miss Cara and spoke low, as if she were asleep and must not be disturbed.

  ‘You must ring up the doctor. You had better go and do it now.’

  ‘Has anyone told – her?’

  ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘Someone must.’

  ‘And who is to do it?’ said Anna on a sobbing breath. ‘It should be you who are of the family, Miss Candida.’

  Candida steadied herself. If she must she must, but it would come better from Anna – perhaps even from this weeping, shaken Anna who had gone back to her crouched position on the bottom step – not from the girl who came between Olivia Benevent and all that she was accustomed to look upon as her own. She said, ‘Anna, you have been with her forty years,’ and Anna wailed, ‘Do not ask me – I cannot!’

  There was a silence, and then a sound. It came from the stair above them, and it was made by the heavy tassel of Miss Olivia’s dressing-gown dropping from step to step as she came slowly down. It was a purple tassel on a cord of purple and black, and the gown was purple too.

  Olivia Benevent came down at a measured pace, her hand on the balustrade. Not a hair of her smooth waves was out of place. There was no expression in her face or in her eyes, but Candida, looking up, could see where a muscle jerked in the side of the throat. She came right down to the floor of the hall and stood there staring at her sister’s body. Then she said,