An Introduction to the Pink Collection (34 page)

There was more noise behind her, shouting, footsteps running from the inn. In a nightmare she turned and saw the landlord reach the Marquis just as he fell to the ground, an ugly red stain spreading across his chest.

For the rest of her life Lavina never forgot the next few terrible hours.

For years her dreams were haunted by the memory of running up to the Marquis as he lay bleeding on the ground, throwing herself onto him with a cry of, “Ivan. Oh my love, my love! You must not be dead. You cannot be. Don't leave me!”

She put her arms about him and held him to her, sobbing.

Then some men came running, fetched by the landlord, lifted him and carried him inside to a bedroom.

The landlord was a kind, sensible man. He dispatched a messenger for the doctor, and another to the McEwuans.

Luckily the doctor was close by and arrived quickly. He extracted the bullet, and managed to stop the bleeding.

“It isn't as bad as it looks,” he said at last. “The bullet did not strike any vital organ. With reasonable luck, he should pull through.”

Lord Ringwood entered as he said these words, and took hold of his daughter to stop her from fainting with relief.

“Bear up, my darling,” he said. “All will be well.”

“I love him, Papa.”

“I know, my dear,” he said gently. “I've always known.”

“I didn't know myself.”

He patted her hand.

“But I did.”

“Can he be moved?” Sir Ian asked the doctor.

He had been at home when the message arrived, and had hurried to the inn with Lord Ringwood.

“Since your home is so close,” the doctor replied, “I think you can move him that short distance.”

Another message was sent to fetch the McEwuans' most comfortable carriage. When Lord Ringwood had thanked the landlord and paid him liberally, they began the short journey back to the McEwuan castle.

Lavina sat beside the Marquis, holding his hand between both hers. But he sat with his eyes closed with an expression of pain on his white face. And she could not tell if he were aware of her or not.

It was a relief to see him carried away to his room, and to know that he would be more comfortable.

Propriety forbade her to follow while he was being undressed, so she stayed with her father, and told him everything that had happened. He was shocked, and when she was finally able to return to the Marquis she left the Earl sunk in deep thought.

The Marquis had briefly regained consciousness in the inn, but now he sank back. The journey had disturbed him, bringing on a fever. The doctor administered laudanum, which calmed him slightly, but Lavina watched in horror as his eyes grew sunken and his face assumed a deathly pallor.

As his fever mounted he began to mutter deliriously. She strained to hear the words, but could only make out a few, and they did not make any sense.

“A spinning top – ” he repeated again and again, “pretty as a spinning top – ”

For one long, interminable night he repeated these words. Sometimes he would open his eyes and look straight at Lavina, but without any recognition, before closing them again.

Then, nearing morning, he fell into a troubled sleep. Mercifully his temperature had fallen, but he seemed distant from her, like a man living in another world.

“If only I knew some way to reach him,” she murmured desperately.

Then suddenly she had an idea.

She went quickly out of the room and down the stairs, to find Lady McEwuan.

“I have come to ask you a great favour,” she said.

“My dear, anything.”

“Is there a piano anywhere upstairs?”

Lady McEwuan stared at her.

“A piano!” she exclaimed.

She was about to ask questions. Then she changed her mind and said:

“There is one in the nursery which the children used until they grew older. I've kept it tuned.”

“Oh thank you, that will be wonderful. May I have it moved?”

“Of course. Tell the butler what you want, and he will send someone.”

On Lavina's instruction the butler had two men carry the piano from the nursery into the passage outside the room where the Marquis was sleeping.

She crept back into his room. His eyes were half closed and she could not tell if he was awake or sleeping. She slipped out again, leaving the door open.

In the corridor Lavina sat down at the piano. Then she started to play the soft music she had first heard the Marquis play when they were on the yacht.

She played the tune which the Marquis himself had played so well, and which she knew meant a great deal to him.

She played for twenty minutes. Then, very softly, she looked back into the bedroom.

He lay quite still, his eyes completely closed now, his breathing coming more easily. Whether he was asleep or merely listening, she had no idea.

For a moment she stood where she was, thinking that he looked somehow at peace and not suffering from pain or fever.

She returned to the piano and began to play again, some of her own favourite tunes.

Then once more she played the tune which meant so much to the man she loved.

Only after quite a long time had passed did she once again look into the room, and tip-toe nearer to the bed.

His eyes opened and he said very quietly, in a voice she could hardly hear,

“Thank you, my darling.”

For a moment Lavina was so astonished that she could only stare down at the Marquis and could not speak.

Then as he put out his hand very slowly towards her, she slipped hers into it.

“Do you feel better?” she asked. “Are you in terrible pain?”

She felt his fingers close over hers and he said,

“I feel no pain now, for I have been listening to the things you told me through the music.”

“What – did you hear me tell you?” she asked.

“You said you were sorry for me, and also that I mean something to you.”

“Everyone is very worried about you,” Lavina managed to say. “I can only tell you of my feelings by playing on the piano that which I cannot say in words.”

“And as I listened to you, I began to feel better,” the Marquis said.

He was speaking in a low voice, almost hesitating between the words. But Lavina could hear every one of them, because she was listening with her heart.

Her hand was still in his. She felt somehow as if she were giving him the strength he had lost.

“I have been so frightened for you,” she whispered.

“When I heard the music, I felt that you were giving me help and strength, and I should soon be well.”

“Oh yes,” Lavina answered softly. “You must get well. Life is so sad without you.”

“I want you here, I want you to help me,” the Marquis said. “Please play for me again. Then I will feel strong enough to tell you what I want to say.”

“Tell me now,” she begged, breathless with hope.

But his eyes were already closed.

She took her hand from his, but she had the strange feeling that he released her reluctantly.

She went into the corridor, and once again played the tunes which she loved herself, and which she felt expressed in music what she felt when she was riding, dancing or just looking at the sun.

She knew now that her music spoke to the man she loved, and that the things it told him were vital for them both, and the future.

“You must get well, completely well,” she told him in music. “I love you more than I can ever say, except in this music which seems to come down from heaven and not belong to the world.”

After a while she thought she would see if he was asleep or awake. She went into the room very quietly and found his eyes closed.

She knelt beside him, praying that he would soon get well, closing her own eyes as she did so. When she opened them she saw him looking at her.

As she looked back at him he put out his hand. She put hers into his and felt him hold her hand so firmly that he was almost squeezing it.

Then he asked quietly,

“Were you praying for me?”

“With all my heart,” she replied fervently. “You must get well, for my sake.”

“Does it matter to you,” he murmured, “if I am well or not?”

“Of course it does,” she said passionately.

“I thought you hated me.”

“No, no I could never hate you.”

“Promise me that that is true.”

“It is true, I swear it.”

She would have said more but he seemed to fall asleep again, and this time it was as though something had brought him peace.

Her father had crept into the room behind her.

“Go and get some sleep now, my dear,” he said. “He'll be better in the morning.”

That night she slept without dreaming, and woke feeling calmer.

“He's better,” said Mrs Banty, without waiting for her first question. “I've already been along to find out.”

Mrs Banty had developed a soft spot for the Marquis.

“I must go to him,” Lavina said.

“When you've had some breakfast,” Mrs Banty said firmly.

She went downstairs to be greeted warmly by the whole McEwuan family. Suddenly she was hungry. She had eaten so little recently, and her spirits were rising with hope.

Suddenly the butler entered, his face grave, for he understood the significance of what he was saying.

“The Queen's messenger is here to see Lord Ringwood.”

“Papa!” Lavina's hands flew to her mouth.

“It's all right, my dear. It will be a reply to the letter I despatched to Her Majesty as soon as I knew what Prince Stanislaus had done.”

“But what did you say to her?”

“I resigned my place at court, and I told her why.”

Before she could reply the messenger appeared. It was Sir Richard Peyton again, and his manner could only be described as chastened.

“The Queen has received your letter,” he said, “and replied at once. I have travelled all night to be here, and I am commanded by Her Majesty to say that she hopes you will take the contents of her letter very seriously.”

Under the anxious eyes of everyone, Lord Ringwood opened the envelope.

It contained Her Majesty's urgent plea that Lord Ringwood would reconsider his decision to leave the court, as she could not do without him.

Her Majesty further added her congratulations on the betrothal of Lady Lavina Ringwood to Lord Elswick, and her hopes of happiness for their future.

She thought Lord Ringwood might be interested to know that Prince Stanislaus had left the country and would not be returning.

“We have won, my dear,” he said to Lavina, tears of joy in his eyes.

“Oh Papa!”

She hugged her father, full of relief, for him as much as herself.

“Will you return to court?” she asked.

“I think so, my dear.”

“I must go and tell him,” she said, and sped upstairs.

She found the Marquis lying quietly, but looking much better than yesterday. There was colour in his cheeks.

“We have won,” she said, and told him about the letter.

“Yes,” he said, “but I am still wondering exactly what I have won – or whether I have won anything. You will have to tell me.”

“Don't you know?” she asked, sitting by his bed. “Didn't the music tell you?”

“It gave me hope. But you were so very angry with me? Has your anger truly died?”

“I was foolish to say those things when we were at the inn. I was distraught. It was just such a shock to hear Stanislaus tell me why you wanted revenge on him. Of course, I always realized that there was something that I didn't know.

“When Papa and I came to see you, you refused us at first, then changed your mind, and later I remembered that it was when Stanislaus was mentioned. And you always told me that you had your own reasons.”

“Yes, I wanted revenge on him for what he'd done to me,” the Marquis said. “But not only for my own sake. I was revenging her as well.”

“Her? You mean – ”

“Anjelica, the girl I once loved. I can see the truth about her now. She was a greedy little predator, who wanted me because I was heir to wealth and a great title.

“For her sake, I became an outcast from my family, but that wasn't what she wanted. It would have meant waiting, perhaps years, for me to inherit, and she wanted the good things of life immediately.

“Stanislaus tempted her away with gold and finery. He couldn't marry her, but she didn't care for that, as long as there was luxury. But it lasted only a few months before he threw her out.”

“Yes, he told me,” Lavina said. “He almost boasted of it.”

“She sank into poverty and lived such a wretched life that she finally lost her wits. That was how she was when I found her again.”

“You found her?” Lavina asked, startled.

“Yes, quite by chance. She was very frail by then, and didn't know me. I was able to take her away and put her in the care of kindly people, who looked after her until she died.”

“You did that for her?” Lavina asked in wonder. “After what she had done to you?”

“It wasn't entirely her fault. She wasn't really very intelligent, and she fell easy prey to his pretty lies. So I felt I had her to avenge as well as myself.”

“And society called you a curmudgeon, who hated women,” she said in wonder.

He gave her a crooked smile.

“Society was right, except that it wasn't only women I hated, but the whole world, that could exact such a brutal price. I condemned all women as faithless and stupid, and all men as boorish and cruel. I shut myself up with my misery and bitterness, allowing no good healthy light to fall on it.

“In all those years I can recall only one thing that brought me joy. And that was the night I walked into a house in London and saw a young girl dancing like a ray of sunlight.”

He smiled tenderly.

“I can see her now, a spinning top, her dark hair flying out as she whirled. She was like the embodiment of life itself, young, beautiful, unafraid.”