Lord of the Far Island

by Victoria Holt

  "Didn't he care that she had gone?"

  "He didn't express an opinion."

  "How cruel he was to her!"

  "Remember—she always reminded him of her mother's unfaithfulness. Perhaps if she had been a different child, more attractive, more normal, he might not have disliked her so much, but he often asked me why he should bother with her and once he said that only the fear of scandal made him keep her at the castle."

  "Did Silva know that he doubted she was his daughter?"

  "I don't think so. Few people did. I knew because he confided in me a great deal. He was too proud to speak of his doubts to anyone."

  "I wish she were here now. I should so much have liked to know her."

  "She was wild always. Once she threatened to throw herself down from the top of the castle tower. The governess of the moment said: 'All right. Do it.' And that made her change her mind. So no one took her threats seriously after that. I think she probably went out in that boat as a gesture, hoping to alarm people, and that it got out of hand. You can't play tricks like that with the sea."

  "And her body was never found, though the boat was washed up."

  "She was obviously drowned."

  "It's strange that her body wasn't washed up somewhere."

  "It doesn't always happen. There must be hundreds of people whose bodies have never been found."

  "What a sad, tragic life! It is indeed a case of the sins of the parents being visited on the children. I am so grateful to you, Mr. Fenwick. You have told me so much more than I could have hoped to discover."

  "It's information which you should know. But with regard to the will, you must see the solicitors whose name I have given you. As a beneficiary I was not present when the will was signed, but I feel sure that your father told me of his true intentions."

  I said I would go to the solicitors that day if it were possible and when Michael returned and I showed him the address he said he would take me there right away. The small town in which the offices were situated was only a few miles out of our way and Michael knew the quickest route.

  And so in the offices of Merry, Fair and Dunn, I learned that I was indeed the heiress to a considerable fortune which I should inherit when I was twenty-one and until that day this was held in trust, and that Jago Kellaway had the power to manage the Island estate and that my father had strongly advised me to allow him to continue to do so.

  There was something else. It was true that in the event of my death without heirs, Silva Kellaway was to inherit the Island.

  Since she was undoubtedly dead, it was explained to me Jago Kellaway was the next in the line of succession to the Island crown.

  This last piece of news had set the alarm bells ringing in my mind since I had first heard it; but I didn't want to listen to what they were trying to tell me.

  More than anything I was eager to confront Jago. I must know what he had to say when he heard what I had discovered and what excuses he would make for not enlightening me.

  I was still bewildered and it seemed strange that the thought which was uppermost in my mind was not that I was going to be very rich but that Jago had kept me in the dark, and most insistent of all was the thought that if I were not there and since Silva was presumed to be dead it would all belong to him.

  It was frustrating that he was not in the castle when I returned. Jenifry told me, when I asked if he were there, that he would not be back until dinnertime.

  Impatiently I went to my room. I washed and changed, but it was too early to go down. I sat down and nervously leafed through the sketchbook. Inevitably I came to the picture of Jago.

  I kept thinking of that moment when I had discovered the hole in the boat through which the water had slowly seeped. He had given me the Ellen. "You should have a boat of your own," he had said, when he had taken me down to the shore and proudly shown me the jaunty little craft with my name painted on her side. How delighted I had been—not only with the boat but because he had given it to me. Why was I thinking of all that now?

  I could hear the cool voice of Mr. Dunn. "Should you die without heirs the estate would go to Jago Kellaway."

  There were long shadows in the room. An air of menace had crept in. But perhaps it had always been there.

  At last it was time to go down to dinner and my heart beat uncertainly because he was there.

  "Have you had a good day, Ellen?" he asked.

  "Very interesting, thank you."

  Gwennol was watching me closely, her eyes cold and hard. She was wondering whether I had been with Michael.

  "I went to the mainland," I said.

  "What? Deserting our Island again!"

  Our Island, Jago, I thought. You mean my Island. At least it will be. . .or should be . . . in a few months' time.

  I wished we were alone. I could scarcely wait to speak to him. How long the meal seemed, how difficult it was to make conversation with my mind running on one theme.

  As soon as it was over I said: "Jago, I want to talk to you."

  Lights of speculation leaped up in his eyes. Was he thinking that I had come to a decision? And being the man he was, who could not imagine he could ever be defeated, he would be thinking that I could no longer deny the fact that I wanted to marry him.

  I faced him in the parlor.

  "Today," I said bluntly, "I have made the most extraordinary discovery. It was a shock to realize that I am heiress to great riches."

  He did not seem in the least embarrassed. "You were certain to discover it sooner or later," he said easily.

  "Why was I not told?"

  "Because you would know all in good time."

  "I had a right to know."

  "It was better that you shouldn't."

  "Whose idea was that?"

  "Mine of course."

  "I feel. . .cheated."

  "My dear Ellen, what a strange thing to say. No one shall cheat you while I'm around to protect you."

  "You told me that my father had made you my guardian until I am twenty-one."

  "That's true."

  "But you didn't say what would happen to me when I became twenty-one."

  "That was to be a pleasant surprise."

  "I don't like it, Jago."

  "You don't like the idea of inheriting the Island?"

  "I don't like being kept in the dark. Will you please tell me what all this is about."

  "I thought you had discovered that. Tell me who was your informant."

  "I have been to see my father's secretary, Mr. Fenwick, and he gave me the address of Merry, Fair and Dunn. Mr. Dunn explained to me the terms of my father's will."

  "Well, then you know everything. How did you find Fenwick?"

  "Michael Hydrock found him for me."

  "Oh? Is he interested in your inheritance?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I meant that he goes to a great deal of trouble to do what you ask."

  "It was a friendly gesture. You aren't suggesting that he is interested in my inheritance, are you? He is very rich, I should imagine. He would not want what I am likely to get."

  "Don't be too sure. Often those who appear to be rich are in urgent need of money. The richer one is, the more disastrously one can accumulate debts."

  I thought: He is sidetracking me. Attacking when he should be on the defensive, which of course is what I would expect of him.

  "You knew all this when you came to London," I accused.

  "Ellen, let us not be melodramatic. It is not very long since your father died. All the formalities concerning his estate have not yet been resolved. I was appointed your guardian. That was why I took matters in my own hands. I wanted to see you and inspect the man you were proposing to marry. His death made it possible for me to ask you here. I wanted you to see the Island, to get to know it, to love it before you knew it would one day be yours."

  "Why?"

  "Because, my dear Ellen, if you had heard that you were to inherit a remote island which could, if sold, represent a
great deal of money, what would you have done?"

  "I should have come to see it, of course."

  "And very likely have sold it at once. Some unknown person might have bought Kellaway Island. That was something I dared not risk. I wanted you to come here, to see it for yourself, to grow to love it while you remained in ignorance of your father's will."

  "And you thought I would marry you before I knew that the Island was mine."

  "That has nothing to do with our marriage except that it will be convenient for you to have me here to look after it and work with you to make it an even more desirable spot than it is now."

  I looked full into those heavy-lidded eyes; they held secrets, I knew. And I felt wretched because I could not trust him and it was becoming more and more clear to me that whatever he had done, my life would be dull and meaningless without him.

  "Oh Jago," I began, and he came swiftly to me and put his arms about me, holding me so tightly that I thought he would break my bones.

  His lips were on my hair. "Don't fret about it," he said. "I'll look after you, Ellen. You've nothing to fear with me beside you."

  I broke away from him. "It's all so unnecessary," I said angrily. "Why did you have to make it so mysterious? Why did you come to London without saying who you were and then come to that house in Finlay Square. . . why?"

  "I wanted to see you ... to get to know you . . . before you knew who I was."

  "I can't see the reason for it," I insisted.

  "I wanted to know about this family you were marrying into, and what would have happened if I had presented myself to you? You would have introduced me to them, would you not? I did not want them to know that I was around, because, Ellen, I was making inquiries about them."

  "About the Carringtons? They are a well-known family not only in England but internationally."

  "Exactly. Then why should they be so happy about their son's marriage with a girl who was, as far as it seemed, penniless?"

  "They had so much money it was not important."

  "I'll tell you this, Ellen. Money is about the most important thing in the Carrington manage. I believe they knew of your inheritance and that was why they were so eager for the marriage. They wanted that money. The Island would have been sold and the proceeds would have very comfortably and conveniently backed up the Carrington Empire."

  "This is wild speculation."

  "No. I leave that to the financiers of this world. Things are not always what they seem, my darling. I'll admit I love this Island. It's true I did not want to see it pass out of my hands. It was the greatest joy I had ever known when I met you and loved you on the spot."

  "Your joy would have been slightly less intense if I had not been the heiress to the Island."

  "Of course. But it would have made no difference. I was determined to have you for my own and I would have found some means of saving the Island too."

  My common sense was telling me not to accept what he was saying, but common sense had no chance against that magnetism which was no less potent than it had ever been.

  He went on: "Now, my dearest Ellen, you will look at the Island through different eyes. I will initiate you into the bookkeeping. The archives go back over a hundred years. You'll be fascinated. We'll work together. We'll have children, and we'll bring them up to love the Island as we do."

  "You go too fast. I have not yet said I will marry you."

  "This is perverse of you because you know as well as I do that you are going to."

  "I think at times you believe you are not a man but a god."

  "It's not a bad idea to have a high opinion of yourself. If you don't no one else will. Where is the Kellaway necklace?"

  "It's in my room."

  "Why don't you wear it?"

  "The clasp is weak. I shall have to get it repaired."

  "I like to see you wear it, Ellen."

  "I will," I said, and thought how weak I was with him, I who had always felt myself to be strong and self-reliant! I had come demanding an explanation and because he had given me one, which I knew when I considered it alone I should find far from plausible, he had somehow talked himself out of a difficult situation.

  What had happened to me? I wanted to accept what he said. I wanted to be with him.

  It would be different when I was alone.

  I said I was very tired. I had had a long day and would say good night. He held me against him and would not let me go for a time.

  Then he said: "Good night, sweet Ellen. Don't be afraid of your emotions. I never thought you would be. Don't be afraid to love. It will be a wonderful experience, I promise you."

  I said very firmly: "Good night, Jago." And I went up to my room. Immediately the uneasy thoughts were with me. I could hear the wind rising and I went to the window and looked out on a sea just visible in starlight. The waves were beginning to have that white-crested ruffled look.

  Could I believe him? I asked myself. Could it possibly be true that the Carringtons had known I was heiress to a large fortune? Not Philip. I would not believe that of Philip. They had accepted me almost eagerly, it was true. I was sure Philip was without guile, but would his clever family use him?

  It was inevitable that night that I should dream the dream. There was the room again—more familiar than ever now that I had seen it so often in my mother's sketchbook. I could hear the whispering voices and my eyes were fixed on the door. It was slowly opening and there came to me the terrible realization that doom was just on the other side of the door.

  The next day I avoided Jago. I told myself I must be alone to sort out my thoughts. The cool practical side of my nature must take command and assess the situation as an outsider would, unaffected by emotion.

  That side of me summed up the situation. He came to London without saying who he was; he came to the house in Finlay Square; when Philip died he asked you here. That was reasonable enough, but why did he not say I was heiress to the Island? Perhaps he feared I would sell it. He wanted me to love the Island. And he had not said who he was because he did not want the Carringtons to know. It seemed wildly implausible when he was not there to look at me so earnestly with such love in his eyes. He had asked me to marry him, implying that it was purely out of love for me, but how much was love for the Island?

  Then Ellen in love—for I had come to the conclusion that that was what I must be—took over: He likes to do strange things. He can't bear to act as ordinary people do. He wanted to see me and came to Finlay Square because he was curious about the sort of house we were getting perhaps, and most of all to talk to me alone. Rollo came and interrupted us then and cut short that interview. When Philip was killed he asked me here, which was natural enough, and it was possible that a girl who had lived mainly in London would very probably consider selling a remote island which she had inherited. It was true that the place grew on one; it had grown on me.

  Yes, yes, said Ellen in love. I can understand it in a way.

  I came out of the castle and climbed to the top of one of the hills from where I could look down and see most of the Island. How beautiful it was—very green touched with the gold of the gorse bushes; the houses with their orange roofs were enchanting and brooding over it all were the stone walls of the medieval edifice which had housed Kellaways for hundreds of years.

  And this would soon be mine.

  A man was slowly climbing the hill. There was something familiar about him. It couldn't be. I must be dreaming. But how like . . .

  "Rollo!" I cried.

  "Yes," he said, "you're surprised. I thought I'd find you somewhere."

  "How did you get here?"

  "By boat from the mainland. I'm staying at the local inn on the Island for a night or two. I have business in Truro and I thought I'd look you up on the way down. Esmeralda gave me the details."

  "I see."

  "I've come to ask you to forgive me," he said. "I'm afraid I was quite obnoxious the last time we met."

  "I think we were all distraught." />
  "It was so sudden ... so unexpected. I've suffered many a qualm of conscience. After all, it was worse for you than for any of us."

  "There was never any light on the matter?"

  "Nothing. Now I look at it more calmly. I just can't believe he killed himself."

  "I could never believe it. I think the gun must have gone off accidentally when Philip was cleaning it."

  "There was no evidence that he was cleaning it."

  "There must be a mistake, but I don't suppose we shall ever know."

  "I had to come and see you, Ellen, because I wanted to ask you to forgive me."

  "I do understand. I know what a great shock it must have been to you. Please don't worry about what you said to me. It was absolutely untrue. There were no quarrels between us."

  "I was more and more sure of this as time passed."

  "So do forget what you said. I am so glad that you no longer believe that I am responsible. How is Lady Emily?"

  "Just the same as ever. She often speaks of you. We don't see a great deal of your cousin's family now. Esmeralda is on the point of becoming engaged to Frederick Bellings. She seemed very happy and contented when I last saw her. I understand you had an accident not long ago. I was talking to the landlady of the inn and she told me."

  "Oh, how these things go round. I suppose the servants talked. Yes, my boat overturned."

  "How did that happen?"

  "How do these things happen? I suddenly noticed the boat was leaking. A boy from the castle fortunately saw me and came to the rescue and then Jago Kellaway came out and completed it."

  "Did you discover what was wrong with the boat?"

  "There was obviously a hole in it."

  "How did that come about?"

  "It's a mystery and was nearly fatal to me. I don't swim very well and was hampered by my clothes. I don't think I stood much chance of reaching the shore."

  "What a terrible thing! I see it has little effect on you though. What about the boat? Was that brought in?"

  "The boat hasn't come in yet."

  "I suppose it won't now."