For a delicious moment her soft, warm breath was against his mouth and he was in Heaven.
"Gina –"
And then the moment was gone. He saw her eyes, wide and horrified and felt her pull away.
"Gina –"
"No – no, we mustn't –"
She freed herself and backed away from him.
"Please John, this cannot happen – let us forget – we must forget –"
"Can you forget?" he asked her, almost angrily.
"I must – I must –"
Her voice floated back to him as she fled.
He followed her out into the corridor, then the main staircase, but she was running fast and all he could see now was a pale figure, vanishing into the gloom of another corridor.
Perhaps, he thought, she had run to Benedict, to tell him how shamefully his friend had behaved, only a short time after uttering generous words.
He was about to turn away when he became aware of Pharaoh gliding across the hall below. With him was a man he had never seen before. He was elderly, bespectacled, grey-haired and as thin as a rail, dressed in clothes that were neat but inexpensive, and he was hurrying along as though driven by some urgent purpose.
"Pharaoh," John called over the banister.
But neither of the men seemed to hear him and then they were gone.
And now it was time for the ball to begin and John must play his part.
More guests were arriving, among them Athene's parents, a large prosperous looking father, and a tiny shrewish woman with sharp eyes that saw everything, and made everybody feel uncomfortable.
Her glance raked her daughter up and down, as though demanding of Athene why there had not yet been an announcement.
John was charming to her, feeling sorry for Athene.
At the door Pharaoh called imposingly,
"Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Wilton."
A fine looking couple appeared. The man was tall and well built, the woman elegant in a red velvet dress with rubies set in gold surrounding her neck.
John saw Gina hurry up to them, hands outstretched in greeting.
"These are my parents," she said, drawing them closer and introducing them to John and Lady Evelyn.
While they were thanking their hostess for taking care of their daughter for the last two weeks, and being assured that Gina was the most delightful guest imaginable, John took the opportunity to study Mr. and Mrs. Wilton and immediately liked them.
There was a warmth and kindliness that emanated from them and the clear affection that united the three of them was one of the most attractive and enviable things he had seen for a long time.
He would have liked to engage them in conversation, but Drusilla was pulling at his arm.
"He's here," she cried excitedly. "My Mr. Scuggins is here."
"Then try to greet him calmly," he cautioned. "More like a lady, less like a hoyden."
"I am a perfect lady," she replied haughtily.
Footsteps were approaching. In another moment the family would be treated to the appearance of my Mr. Scuggins. They all braced themselves.
The footman stood to attention and announced,
"Mr. Arthur Scuggins."
A shadow darkened the doorway. He was upon them.
To say that Arthur Scuggins was not what any of them had expected was to understate the case. His figure was tall, lean and elegant and he was dressed with perfect propriety.
He was about forty years of age and everything about him bespoke a quiet, serious man. The only sign of flamboyance was the diamond that glittered in his neck cloth. One glance at that jewel convinced John that Mr. Scuggins was as wealthy as Drusilla had claimed.
As he made his way across the floor towards them, John realised that the fat, elderly vulgarian he had been expecting had never existed outside his prejudices.
"Your Grace," he said calmly with an inclination of his head.
"Call me Chesterton," John said at once. "I believe I am much in your debt for your kind services to my sister."
He introduced his mother, who also thanked him profusely. Then he could turn his attention to Drusilla, and John was startled by the light that came into his eyes as he beheld his lady love.
How, John wondered, had his shallow, selfish, featherbrained little sister ever managed to attach this man?
Doubtless, the answer was her youth and beauty. Clearly Scuggins could do better, but as a good brother, it behoved John to make sure they tied the knot as quickly as possible.
The music began. He led Athene into the dance. Benedict gave his arm to Gina, while Drusilla virtually hurled herself at Arthur Scuggins.
But when the first dance was over, a demon seemed to take possession of Drusilla. She did not dance with Arthur Scuggins again, which was understandable at first, as she had many duty dances to do.
But all of her dances were with handsome young men with whom she flirted outrageously. As the evening went on she passed from one to the other, laughing, teasing and making coy overtures.
When Arthur Scuggins ventured to approach her, she giggled and told him that she had far too many partners to spare him another dance. His response to this was to bow quietly and leave her.
"If you are trying to make him jealous you are being very stupid," John told her fiercely when he could grasp her for a moment.
"Who cares? You don't want me to marry him anyway."
"That was before I met him. Now I begin to think he is a sight too good for you."
She shrugged.
"I can do as I please. He won't say anything."
"Well, I will say that you are a little fool, and I am ashamed of you."
She flounced off into the arms of another partner, a man John disliked. He had cold predatory eyes and had made certain that he danced with the wealthy Athene before the penniless Duke's sister.
He looked around for Athene, but could not see her. Her parents, too, seemed to be searching for her. Not finding her, they approached John and her father cleared his throat.
"We were wondering when would be the best time for a serious talk, Your Grace."
"I will be delighted to talk with you, but first I must attend to urgent business. If you will excuse me."
It was almost time for him to gather his guests together and explain what was on his mind, and however reluctant he might be, he was briefly glad of it, since it enabled him to put off the moment with Athene's parents.
He looked for Gina, but was unable to see her either. Probably the two girls were somewhere alone, touching up each other's hair, which the dancing might have disarranged.
But she ought to be here. He hunted for her and at last realised that he would have to do it without her. He felt strangely abandoned.
*
Gina seldom danced, acting chiefly as a right hand to Lady Evelyn. And at some point in the evening she had noticed Pharaoh behaving strangely. He came and went at unexpected moments and was absent frequently.
When she next saw him, she took firm hold on him.
"Pharaoh," she said urgently. "Something is happening, isn't it?"
"Yes, madam."
"Can you not tell me what it is?"
"If you would follow me, madam."
He led her along dark corridors until they came to the room where he had been working. There she found Timmy and Roly, who had been officially sent to bed hours ago, full of excitement.
There was also a lean, grey-haired man with spectacles. He was peering through a magnifying glass at one of the pictures.
"Haven't changed your mind, have you?" Pharaoh asked him.
"Oh, no, no, not at all," the man murmured.
"Miss Wilton," said Pharaoh, "allow me to introduce Jake Norris. He is an art expert. Do I say art expert? No. He is the art expert."
It was then that Gina noticed something different about the picture.
"Isn't that the Crossing of the Rubicon?" she asked.
"It was," Pharaoh answered. "Until I removed it."
&
nbsp; "Removed it? How?"
"Cleaned it off and revealed the picture underneath. That's what Jake has been studying and he has made a discovery, haven't you Jake? Jake?"
"Eh? What?" Jake looked up, his eyes vague. "You know, this is really most interesting."
"You had better tell Miss Wilton."
So Jake explained. Gina listened with wide eyes and when he had finished she sat down as if the breath had been knocked out of her.
"Whatever will John say when he hears this?"
"He won't have to raise money tonight now," Roly piped up.
"He'll like that," Timmy added.
Gina took a deep breath.
"But it's too late," she said. "He is gathering everyone to make a start. What can I do? I cannot dash in while he's talking, drag him away and then leave him to go back and tell everyone he didn't mean it."
"But he should know about this discovery before he commits himself," Pharaoh pointed out.
The boys were looking at each other, their eyes gleaming.
"Would you like to hear a plan?" Timmy asked.
"What sort of a plan?" Gina asked cautiously,
"A deep, dark, devilish plan," Roly supplied.
"Yes, I think I might be interested."
They explained. When they had finished Gina said urgently,
"We must move fast."
"You'll have to talk to the others," Timmy said. "They won't do what we tell them, but they will for you."
"Let's get to work," she urged.
*
Down below, John had returned to the ball, silenced the orchestra and commanded the attention of the guests.
"I am sorry to interrupt your enjoyment," he began, "but I have something to say that I hope you will be interested to hear."
They turned to regard him, their faces full of attention and anticipation. John took a deep breath.
The moment had come.
"This is the first ball that has been held in the castle for nearly thirty years," he said. "One or two of you here now were here then and can remember what a fine place this was, in its prime."
Murmurs of agreement went around the gathering.
John paused for a moment. Then he added very quietly,
"Look at it now. What has happened? How is it possible that we could neglect anything so fine as this castle, which was meant to be cherished by us, our children and their children?"
He realised that there was absolute silence in the hall. Everyone was listening intently.
"How is it possible?" he asked. "How did it ever happen that the castle, which meant so much to our ancestors, should be in such a state as it is today? It is almost in ruins and unless we stop it, it will soon be just a pile of rubble and will be lost for ever."
Suddenly it was difficult for him to go on. The next stage was asking them for money and his pride held him back. It was vitally necessary, but now that the moment had come, he was reluctant.
Then, before he could continue, a strange noise floated through the gallery.
"Whooooo – ooooooh!"
Silence.
Everyone was looking around them, trying to work out what the noise was and where it had come from.
"It was probably the wind," John said. "As I was saying –"
"Whooooo – ooooooh!"
This time his audience looked around them more anxiously, frowning, baffled, beginning to become a little nervous.
"What is it?" asked an apprehensive young lady.
"Nothing, I do assure you," John answered, but he was interrupted by a shriek from the back of the crowd.
"I saw something."
"Where? Where?" everyone wanted to know.
"There! A figure in a white sheet. It's a ghost."
"Of course it isn't a ghost," John said, raising his voice to quell the hubbub that had been created. "We don't have any ghosts."
"Yes, we do," Drusilla put in. "There's the headless lady and the man who died on the gallows and –" "Whooooo – ooooooh!"
"There it is," someone shouted.
"No – there."
"There's one over there!"
Under cover of the commotion John hissed into his sister's ear,
"If you say another word I will make you sorry you were born."
"It's not my fault," she asserted, all injured innocence.
"It's the fault of those two little fiends from hell who call themselves my brothers. I don't know what they are playing at but –"
"Whooooo – ooooooh!"
He stopped because his attention had been drawn to a sheeted figure standing motionless on the upper gallery. It was gigantic, evidently the spirit of some huge ancestor.
Or Harry in a sheet.
"Just what is going on," John muttered wrathfully.
Even as he looked, the figure began to move back, until it had vanished.
It was too late now to calm the crowd. Sheeted figures were running hither and thither from door to door. Ladies were beginning to scream and the men to shout. A riot was developing.
"Everybody – please –" he called.
Then he felt a hand plucking at his sleeve and he was being dragged irresistibly away, with no chance to object until he found himself right out of the gallery and the door closed behind him.
"I am sorry, John," Gina whispered, releasing him, "but I had to get you away before you could say any more."
"But I have got to say more. This whole plan –"
"May not be necessary after all."
"Whatever are you talking about?"
"I want you to come with me and trust me," she said urgently. "Come now."
Without waiting for his answer she took his hand and began to lead him quickly away.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"You will see," was all she would say as she hurried along.
Higher and higher they went, until they reached the room where the pictures were stored. There they found Pharaoh and Jake Norris.
"Here he is," Gina told them.
"What is this all about?" John demanded.
"Tell him about the picture," Pharaoh said, rubbing his hands with glee.
Jake Norris looked up.
"You are – er – the Duke? The owner of the Rembrandt?"
"Rembrandt?" John echoed. "I don't own a Rembrandt."
"This picture isn't yours?"
"Yes, of course it's mine, but it is not a Rembrandt."
"Oh, dear me, yes it is. A very fine example of his later work. Quite incredibly valuable."
John stared at him.
"Are you quite certain of what you are saying?"
"Totally certain. As soon as my good friend –" he indicated Pharaoh, "notified me that he had discovered one picture beneath another and he thought it was a Rembrandt, I dropped everything and came straight here."
"You did that?" John asked Pharaoh. "But how did you know?"
"I am familiar with various artistic styles," Pharaoh replied vaguely.
"Best forger in the business," Norris declared, not mincing matters.
"I don't care what he was," John said. "Is he right about this?"
"No doubt of it."
"And there are a couple of other pictures that I think would yield interesting results if I cleaned off the surfaces," Pharaoh added.
"Then you had better get on with it while I am still here," Norris said. "But this picture alone, Your Grace, will bring you a very considerable fortune."
"I know you were reluctant to take the final step to raise the money," Gina admitted. "We had to stop you before you went any further."
"So you thought of the ghosts?"
"Actually that was Timmy and Roly's idea. I went round our friends and persuaded some of them to help."
"Yes, I recognised Harry."
John sat down suddenly and dropped his head into his hands. When he looked up at Gina, his eyes were shining.
"Do you realise what this means?"
"Yes," she said eagerly. "You are saved.
Oh, John, just think of it! You are saved."
CHAPTER TEN
"Saved," John repeated in a dazed voice. "Saved."
"This picture will restore your family fortunes," Gina sighed. "You will be free to – to do whatever you like."
To do whatever he liked. Did she realise, he wondered, how ironically those words rang in his ears now that she had declared her love for another man?
He tried to force a smile. He had just found a vast fortune, but if she did not love him nothing seemed to matter very much.
"John, listen," she took his hands. "I think you should go downstairs now and talk to your guests."
"Good grief, yes! I have told them half the story. What shall I say now?"
"Tell them the other half, that you have just discovered a great picture that will solve your financial problems. Then invite them to share your joy."
"Yes, you are right. Come with me."
Together they made their way down and back into the picture gallery. The crowd was still there, calmer now, although they seized on his return.
"Whatever happened?"
"What were those terrible figures?"
"Do you really have ghosts?"
He faced them, calm but pale.
The words he uttered were the words Gina had given him. He was still too stunned to think up a speech of his own.
Most of the guests saw only the tale with the happy ending and cheered him, kindly and enviously. Only a few of them could guess at the undercurrents swirling around.
Lady Evelyn regarded her son with a smile but also a touch of anxiety, as though wondering what would happen next. She had been watching him for the last couple of weeks, hoping against hope that she was reading him correctly and that he would take the chance of happiness that was so close to him.
But she had never spoken a word. She was too wise to risk upsetting the delicate equilibrium of the situation.
Not everyone was so pleased by this development. Athene's parents exchanged cold-eyed glances and were now prepared to advance on John, determined not to let their chance slip.
John was looking around for Benedict, wondering why his friend was not there to congratulate him. But he seemed to have vanished.
He gave a signal to the musicians to resume the ball and music soared out overhead. The dancers began to swirl again. Drusilla, he was sorry to note, was again clasped too closely in the arms of another good-looking young man.
Love Finds the Way Page 12
