The Black Benedicts (15 page)

Mallory said nothing, and Serena suddenly pulled in her mount and her uncle cupped his hands over his mouth and called to her to wait
until they caught up with her. Then, for the last lap of the ride, Mallory was forced to put all other thoughts out of her mind as, in order to gratify Serena, they all three rode their horses
a
t exhilarating speed across the
undulating
country
w
hich lay between them and the
parkland
surrounding Morven, and when at last they galloped up the drive and then shot across the stately timbered park to the house, with i
t
s diamond-paned lattices flung wide to the brill
i
ance of the new day, and the scent of opening roses in the rose-garden floating in the warm air and lapping i
t
about like a caress, the faces of both the governess and her charge were glowing,
and
Raife Benedict also looked unusually alert and bright
-
eyed. As he swung himself out of his saddle and held out a hand to help Mallory dismount, she thought that his eyes were also once more just a little in
cl
ined to mock her.

“
We
’
ll have to see
w
hat we can do about that wit
c
h-ball,
”
he said.
“
Unless you
’
d rather possess your soul in patience and just wait for things to happen?
”

She did not answer, partly because she was quite sure he was laughing at her, and partly because at that moment she had no slightest wish to peer into her future. Much of the brightness of that morning had been dimmed for her when she had heard about Miss Martingale
’
s proposed second visit to Morven—a visit that was to last a few weeks!—and the costume dance which she desired so much that no expense was to be spared in granting her wish.

Just then, despite that last blood-stirring canter which had brought the colour to her cheeks and made her eyes look brilliant as soft grey jewels, something inside her was not happy. And she felt that it would be a mistake to peer into the future—her future!

Whatever she might see in a witch-ball, it would bear no resemblance to the kind of things Miss Martingale would see
...
!

That night, when she was thinking that it would be scarcely necessary to change her frock for dinner, Rose the maid brought a message to her room to the effect that Mr. Benedict would like
Miss
Gower to prepare her charge to stay up late and have dinner with him, and that he expected Miss Gower to join them as well.

It was so much like a command that Mallory knew there was nothing she could do about
it,
although having got Serena into some kind of a
reasonable
daily routine
,
she was not at all
approving
of her staying up later than her usual bed
time,
for herself she would have infinitely preferred to have her evening meal alone in her own room.

But Serena was delighted when the news was conveyed to her, and
she
declared that it was delightful having Un
cl
e Raife back at Morven. He had always spoiled
her, and now he was beginning again after a too long interval,
and
the only thought in her head was
w
hat she should wear to make her appearance in the dining-room, and what sort of entertainment would be provided for after dinner.

But Serena
’
s pleasure was short-lived, for the evening meal so far as
she
was concerned was one of extreme simplicity, and afterwards she was dispatched to bed with small ceremony, and scarcely any heed paid to her disappointed utterances because for once her Uncle Raife was behaving like a disciplinarian, and Miss Gower supported him almost with relief when it was suggested that Serena
s
hould miss as little as was possible of her beauty sleep and go to bed without delay.

But if Mallory thought that by retiring upstairs again with Serena she would escape anything in the nature of a
tet
e
-a-tete
with her employer, she
,
too, was doomed to disappointment. For he made it clear that he not only expected but requested her return downstairs once her small charge had either been handed over to Darcy, or she had seen her into bed herself. And although she couldn
’
t imagine
w
hy, although there were no guests in the house and he was probably feeling a trifle bored—perhaps missing Sonia Martingale acutely!—he should want to continue a conversation which had seemed stilted and difficult at dinner, she knew better than to invent an excuse which would keep her in the sanctuary of her own rooms.

She had a feeling he would not listen to excuses, and that he would probably come upstairs and
skilfully
prove that it was only an excuse. So, after seeing Serena into bed, and leaving her with Belinda curled up in her basket beside her, she flicked a hasty powder-puff over her own face, gazed disapprovingly at herself in her mirror because, in her own opinion, she was so sadly bereft of anything approaching glamour, and then returned downstairs to the library where the master of the place awaited her with a somewhat impatient look on his face, and the face of
his ancestor in
the portrait
.
On the wall above the fireplace behind him also looked down at her almost accusingly.

“
If you
’
ve been putting Serena to bed,
”
he said,
“
that
’
s not one of your duties. It
’
s Darcy
’
s job to act nursemaid.
”

“
As a matter of fact,
”
Mallory answered,
“
Serena is a little old for a nursemaid.
”

He waved a hand impatiently. He looked very handsome and arrogant in his dark evening clothes, and she felt very dowdy and inadequate in her one and only grey evening frock and her mother
’
s small pearls.

“
That
’
s all beside the point,
”
he said.
“
This arrangement of your looking after Serena is only temporary, and Darcy
’
s job is only temporary, too, so we won
’
t discuss anything relating to Serena to-night. We can do all that another night, and in the meantime I want to talk to you.
”

“
Oh, yes?
”
Mallory said, and waited, wondering just how
‘
temporary
’
her job was going to be.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

R
aife
B
enedict
leaned one shoulder against the broad mantelshelf, and behind
him
the crossed broad-swords on the panelled walls made a fitting background to the dark haughtiness of
hi
s sleek head and faintly hawk-like profile. The library was softly illuminated, for it was already quite dark outside, and only the tall cases of books and the more distant portraits were in deepest shadow—rather like the velvet shadows which lurked outside the open windows. He produced his cigarette-case and offered it to Mallory, but when she de
cl
ined he carefully and rather slowly lighted himself a cigarette, and then surveyed her thoughtfully through the faint haze of fragrant
ci
garette-smoke.

“
Tell me something about yourself, Miss Gower,
”
he said suddenly, surprising her—so that she was conscious all at once of a feeling of relief.
“
Something about your background, your family
...
I know practically nothing at all about you, save that your father dealt very adequately with wild cats, and your grandfather shot tigers!
”

Mallory crimsoned on the instant, recalling that rattier childish boast she had once made to
him
of her family
’
s ability to handle the most dangerous animals, but
she
could see that his eyes were twinkling a little, and it was surprising, she thought, that he remembered her boast.
“
You were brought up, I believe, in a parsonage, and that
’
s why you make a point of going to church on Sundays, and why Serena is nowadays much, less of a pagan. But that doesn
’
t give me a very
cl
ear picture of you
w
hen you are at home. I want to know
w
hether you
’
ve brothers and sisters, and how you pass your time.
”

Mallory, once her initial astonishment had been overcome, found it a comparatively simple matter to give him a few facts concerning the way she had lived until she came to Morven, and she could see that he was amused by her description of her mother
’
s menagerie of domestic pets, and the way she herself was called in to groom and attend to them in between being entirely responsible for cooking for the entire family. And the doings of her schoolboy brothers and sister also amused him, as well as her description of the muddle
w
hich usually prevailed in their small cottage home. But he
d
id not look so amused
w
hen she told him of the necessity to earn more money in order that the several members of her family could keep their heads above water, and her sympathetic picture of her mother as an over-worked and constantly harried widow of a
cl
ergyman made him frown a little.

“
So you had to be the one to turn out and earn the money!
”
he said.
“
We
’
ll have to go into this question of your salary and decide whether it
’
s adequate or not.
”

“
It is—completely adequate!
”
she assured
him.
“
And, in any case, I couldn
’
t accept any more.
”

“
Why not?
”
he asked, smiling a little.

“
Because the salary I receive is already over-generous for the few duties I have to perform, and the ease and comfort of my life here. If you offered me more, and I accepted it, I should be robbing you.
”

“
Dear me!
”
he exclaimed, as if that was a very serious offence. But from the way he continued to smile she gathered that what she had actually succeeded in doing was amusing him even more than she had done before.

He turned and looked out of the open French window at the golden light that was streaming across the lawns, and the way the shadows beyond merged into the deeper blackness of trees and shrubberies. The moon had not yet risen, but when it did the whole of the garden would come alive, bathed in mystic silver, and even the distant Welsh hills would become clearly visible from the upper windows.

“
So your mother knows this part of the world, does she?
”
he mused reflectively.
“
And she prepared you for the loneliness of it, and the feeling of primitiveness that lurks out there beneath the stars on such a night as this!
”
He glanced up at the portrait above him, and studied it intently for several seconds.
“
In his day it was even more primitive,
”
he remarked, at last,
“
and Morven would have been much more of the stronghold you expected than the pleasant country house it is to-day. We were a wild lot up here on the border in the days of that ancestor of mine—a wild and lawless lot—and if you
’
d arrived here then you might not have found your job so pleasant.
”

His eyes returned to her face, and he studied her thoughtfully while he crushed out the end of his cigarette and lighted himself another.

“
But in those days people were not so inhibited, and they behaved in a way their instincts dictated. My ancestor, for instance, was not much better than a pirate, and his piracy was not confined to
amassing
for himself a fortune. He also helped himself to a bride—a Spanish bride—and rumour has it that the lady was not particularly willing
, b
ut he married her just the same! That sort of
thing,
to-day, would be well-nigh impossible, and in any case the law would call him to account for it. But in many ways they were exciting times—they had much to commend them!
”
and she thought
that
something like a tiny flame leapt and danced for a moment in his extraordinarily brilliant eyes, and reminded her of that first night when she had caught sight of him in the hall. His eyes had actually rather frightened her then.

He moved towards the open window, and then turned to look at her again.

“
It
’
s very warm to-night,
”
he said.
“
Do you fe
el
like a breath of air before you go upstairs to bed?
”

Mallory rose like a demure grey moth in her grey gown and followed him out on to the delectably smooth surface of the lawn. Once they had descended the terrace steps the crisp turf seemed to receive their footsteps like velvet, and rise up as if anxious to caress their ankles. There were so many sweet scents floating in the atmosphere around them that they were like a particularly heady perfume which caught at Mallory
’
s nostrils and made her feel temporarily a little light-headed, and the almost sensuous warmth and stillness of the night wrapped her about like a garment.

But, nevertheless, as they drew near to the first belt of shrubbery, Raife Benedict looked down at her, and, lightly touching her bare arm to feel whether it was cold, he asked with a sudden note of concern in his voice:

“
You
’
re not cold? Oughtn
’
t you, perhaps, to have fetched a wrap?
”

She shook her head. She didn
’
t really want to speak because she felt
i
t would shatter something peaceful and magical between them.

“
You
’
re—sure?
”
he asked.

“
Quite sure,
”
she answered, and then, as they were descending slightly crumbling steps to the rose-garden, caught the toe of her evening slipper in a hollow formed by the disappearing bri
ck
work, and but for his arm
w
hich came out instantly to prevent her from falling she would have completed the descent of the rest of the steps by
tumbling
down them to the flagged walk at the bottom, and probably landing flat on her face.

“
That was my fault!
”
he ex
cl
aimed, holding her so strongly that his arm felt like iron about her. He sounded utterly vexed with himself and concerned because of the danger she had escaped.
“
I ought to have warned you, and I
’
ll have to speak to one of the gardeners about these steps and see that they
’
re made safe. Are you quite all right, or did you hurt your ankle?
”

She assured him that she had not hurt herself in the very slightest, but, peering down into her face in the light of the steadily-rising moon, he did not seem quite satisfied. She looked so small and fragile in her gauzy grey dress, and her small face looked ethereally pure. She could see his eyes studying her, very
cl
ose to her own, and all at once the violent beating of her heart made her afraid that he would hear the wild thunder of its beats, and the fact that this moment while he refused to let her go was a moment she would treasure as if it was a precious gem entrusted to her care all the rest of her life was something that she simply had to keep from him.

She shut her eyes for a moment, and a kind of panic assailed her.
Oh, no...! she
thought. Surely she wasn
’
t so foolish, so utterly stupid, as to be upon the very verge of—falling in love with him?

No; she wasn
’
t upon the verge of falling in love with
him
—she had fallen in love with him weeks ago, when he had lain helpless in his big four
-
poster bed and had thanked her for letting the light into his room! Perhaps even before that...!

“
You look pale,
”
he said slowly, as she opened her eyes and looked up at him rather helplessly.
“
Are you quite sure you didn
’
t give your ankle a twist?
”

But she assured him emphatically that there was nothing wrong with her ankle, and then quietly but determinedly she freed herself from his arm, and moved a foot or so away from him.

“
I
’
m letting you make a fuss about nothing,
”
she said.
“
Shall we—shall we go on
...
?
”

But to her surprise he shook his head.

“
No, we
’
ll go back to the house and I
’
ll have a look at your ankle.
”

And considerably to her disappointment they went back, returning across the lawns in absolute silence this time, and she felt rather than saw that he was frowning as he kept his hands firmly in the pockets of his dinner-jacket and stared straight ahead through the silvery light, and when they re-entered the library he made her sit down in one of the deep arm-chairs while he knelt at her feet and examined her slender ankle.

“
Well, it looks all right to me,
”
he observed at last, as he stood up, and then as she started to reaffirm that it was perfectly all right he turned almost indifferently away from her and walked back to the fireplace.

“
Well, in that case, I think you
’
d better go to bed,
”
he said.
“
I
’
ve probably kept you up rather late as it is,
”
glancing at the
cl
ock,
“and
I don
’
t
think
you
’
re used to late hours.
”

She said nothing. She felt as if already the atmosphere between them had changed, and instead of being friendly and pleasant and companionable, it had the same degree of
frostiness
and unbridgeable aloofness that had characterized their earlier meetings, when she had felt almost afraid to come face to face with him. The old, slightly disdainful look was back on his face, and his voice was cool like the drip of ice.

“
And, by the way, Miss Gower,
’
he added, as she rose to leave him,
“
you won
’
t forget what I asked you to do this morning, will you? And don
’
t waste any time about it, will you, please? I
’
m rather anxious to go ahead with all the arrangements, and Miss Martingale will probably be arriving quite soon. I
’
d like everything cut and dried by the time she arrives, as this is something she
’
s looking forward to.
”

“
Of course, Mr. Benedict,
”
she answered, but as she slowly mounted the grand staircase in the hall her thoughts were a bewildering torment. He had been kind—so different—and his concern for her had surprised her so much. And then all at once he had altered, and she had felt almost snubbed.

But out there in the moon-bathed loveliness of the night she had known what it was like to have his arm about her, and she wished ardently that she had not. Because in future the memory of it would be haunting her all the time, and obviously there was only one woman in the world who claimed the whole of his thoughts, and that was Sonia Martingale!