Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 09] - Logic Of The Heart (20 page)

Señor Angelo decided that while he waited for Mr. Montclair,
he would inspect the premises. With this in mind, he rose, wandered
across the great crescent of the entrance hall, and went up a pair of
stairs to the landing, from which point the stairs divided into two
flights.

The footman, restoring his view to ground level and finding
the caller had vanished, wandered out onto the steps and peered about.

"The señor was also peering about. "Charmed theses," he
beamed, and chose the left flight.

Thus it was that, humming a little despite his smarting side,
he wandered along the east corridor and passed the main staircase just
as a lady descended from the upper regions. He halted, glancing up
smilingly into the saddest little face he had ever seen. His smile
died. He abandoned the bow he had been prepared to make even if it
caused his side to split like a sausage, and stepped forward with hand
outstretched.

"Senorita Trent! Bad somethings was? Tears Angelo de Ferdinand
have not can! Must chew splain!"

Despite the garbled English, his eyes held a kindly anxiety
that warmed Barbara's heart. She rested her cold fingers in his hand
and blinked mistily. "Oh, Señor," she gulped, "I don't want to m-marry
him, but— I have no choice! I wish I were dead!"

"Whose marries? What peoples says chew marriage?" Swelling
with indignation, he demanded, "Not loving chew theses mens?"

"No, no!" She gripped his hand frantically. "But you see he is
very rich, and—" Overcome, she pressed a handkerchief to her lips. "And
my cousin—"

"Montclair?" he snarled, bristling. "Chew wanting marriage
him, not?"

"No. Val knows how I feel, but he says—"

"
Barbara Trent
! What on
earth
are you doing?"

Barbara gave a whimper of terror and whirled around.

Lady Trent, all chin and frown, was coming rapidly along the
hall. "Have you quite taken leave of your senses, Miss Care-for-Nobody?
We have been waiting this age!"

Angelo inserted, "Madam—mices elves—"

My lady drew herself up and regarded him with disgust. "What
in heaven's name… ? Albertson—who is this?"

The footman, breathless and irritated, hastened to them.
"Slipped past me at the door, m'lady. I been searching all over! Said
he wanted to see Mr. Montclair!"

"Nonsense! Mr. Montclair has no wish to see anyone who cannot
speak English! Show the person out."

"Madam!" said Angelo, indignant. "Angelo Francisco Luis—"

"This way—sir," growled the footman, taking his arm.

"Hand-un mices elves, oncely at!" cried Angelo, striving
rather feebly to escape. "Lagunes de Ferdinand," he shouted after the
ladies, completing his introduction. "Meeces wishing—"

Having reached the door, the footman ejected Señor de
Ferdinand. Head first.

His ship had gone down in a great storm and he was at the
bottom of the sea. Far above him, moonlight shone through the green
waters, and the seaweed rippled and swung to the pull of the tide, but
down here it was dark. The urge to swim up to the surface grew upon
Montclair. He tried to move but pain sank its teeth into him so sharply
that he lay still again. He couldn't think very well. Something bad had
happened at home… And then for some reason he'd been in the woods… But
where he was now, or why, eluded him. He had awoken several times
before this, but the pain had been so excruciating he'd felt sick and
had drifted into the shadows again. He sighed wearily. If only he had
some water…

When he opened his eyes again it was light. A pale murky
light. He could smell fog. The birds were singing busily. There must be
hundreds of birds. All twittering at once. Such a lot of noise for such
tiny creatures… And oh Lord, but his head was hell, and he was so
damnably thirsty! His left hand was cold. He moved the fingers. They
seemed to touch stone. A stone slab…

He knew then, and he gave a gasp and his eyes opened very wide.

He was in the Folly! With the shock of it came complete
recollection. He'd quarreled with the Trents, and then gone to meet
Barbara. But he'd been struck down in the woods by a monstrous creature
who had evidently thrown him into the Folly and left him to die. And he
would
die, for no one would think to look for him here. He
wondered vaguely who had tried to kill him, but it seemed unimportant.
The important thing was that he must get out, or even if his head
wasn't crushed, he'd die of thirst and starvation. He tried to sit up,
but there was something horribly wrong with his left leg, and his
desperate efforts carried so terrible a price that he was very glad to
let himself sink into oblivion.

After a long time he awoke again. He was still in the Folly,
and he was much weaker. Unless he was willing to just lie here and
politely die he must try once more to get up. He lay still, gathering
his strength.

Somewhere, very far away, a dog was barking shrilly…

Priscilla tiptoed into the clearing. Her fine new friend Mr.
Val'tine had told her she must never come here. He'd said it was a bad
place and that the lady Fury would boil Wolfgang and eat him all up.
She had told Wolfgang about this, but he was in one of his adventuring
moods and it was just like him, bold and terrible as he was, to never
mind about the Fury. She scanned the drifting mist nervously. If Mama
or Uncle Andy caught her she'd really get spanked. Only you didn't
leave your friends just 'cause they was naughty. If she ran off and let
Wolfgang get eaten up by that horrid Fury, she'd never forgive herself.

She saw him then and gave a gasp of fright. He was right at
the edge, his tail waving furiously, barking down into the pit.

Priscilla gripped her small hands before her mouth and
whispered, "Oh dear, oh
dearie
me! Wolfgang! Come
here at once!"

But her whisper went unheard, and the dog barked louder than
ever.

She must be brave. Mr. Val'tine wouldn't leave
his
dog for a Fury to eat up, she was very sure of that! Trembling, she
crept forward, calling to the dog, but ready to run for her life if the
Fury's terrible face should drift out of the pit. And at last, when she
was much too close and her knees were shaking so that she didn't think
she could take another step, Wolfgang heard her and ran to prance about
her in great excitement, then dart back again.

"No!" she quavered. "Bad dog! Come away from—"

"Priscilla… ? Is that… Priscilla?"

Half fainting with terror, Priscilla screamed shrilly and ran
as fast as her little legs would carry her. The Fury had heard her! And
Mr. Val'tine had been wrong. It was a gentleman Fury, not a lady! And
he'd known her name and prob'ly had a cooking pot ready, and a list
like Mama and Papa had brought home once from a great dinner they'd
gone to, with lots and lots of fancy things to eat writ out on it, all
in French. Only the Fury's list would say Boiled P'scilla and Wolfgang
pudding! Wolfgang was coming now. Howling. She gave a sob of gratitude,
but daren't look back lest the gentleman Fury be close behind her with
his long terrible teeth and great claws reaching out to take her and
pop her into his cooking pot.

She ran almost all the way home.

"He most certainly is
not
here!"
Standing on the front steps with Deemer on one side of her, and Mrs.
Starr on the other, Susan frowned into Junius Trent's bold grin, and
demanded, "Why on earth should you fancy Mr. Montclair would visit us?
One might suppose he'd have sufficient sense to know he'd be unwelcome."

Trent leaned forward in the saddle, taking in the widow from
the hem of her pale yellow muslin gown to the shine on her proud dark
head. "You're fair and far out there," he said. "My cousin ain't one
for sense. Nonsense—yes. Sense—very little, alas."

Sir Dennis Pollinger uttered a bray of laughter at this
witticism, startling the fine grey horse he bestrode so that he was
hard put to it to keep his seat. "Gone and got himself lost, silly
cawker," he imparted when he had quieted his mount. "So we're all out
looking for him, d'ye see?"

Mrs. Starr tightened her grip on the rolling pin in her hand.
"If a grown man cannot find his way about his own estate, he is either
ripe for Bedlam or a slave to Demon Rum," she observed tartly.

Junius, not one to waste his time with menials, gave her a
bored glance. "Your cook has a point," he said to Susan. "You may take
your pick, ma'am."

"I prefer to take my leave of you, sir," she said frigidly.
"No such individuals have passed this way this afternoon, I promise
you. Good day."

"If you should see him—" began Junius.

Susan curtsied and with one finger under her chin, promised,
"I shall spank the wayward boy, and send him home."

They could still hear Pollinger's braying laugh after the door
had closed.

Deemer said, "What do you suppose it's all about, Mrs. Sue?
Two grooms came looking for Mr. Montclair this morning, whilst you was
saying goodbye to Mr. Andrew."

Mrs. Starr's eyes widened. "You never think—there's been
murder done?"

"I do not," said Susan. "The man was probably in his cups and
is snoring in a ditch somewhere. Quite typical of his unpleasant self."

Panting happily, Wolfgang ran in from the back door.
Following, also panting, Priscilla saw them, and ran to plead that Mama
keep her promise and take her riding this afternoon. "You said we could
go 'smorning, but then you talked an' talked with Uncle Andy, and now
the day's almost gone!"

"But—darling, it's getting foggy and cold. I think it would be
better if we waited 'til tomorrow, and—" The beam vanished from the
hopeful eyes and the small face became resigned. Susan relented. "Oh,
all right, you rascal. Martha will help you change into your habit.
Hurry now."

Very much the little lady as she guided her pony across the
meadows, Priscilla said happily, "Only look, Mama. The sun's coming
through the clouds. Will we get a rainbow, d'you s'pose? I like
rainbows."

"I don't think so, darling." Susan glanced at the trees that
loomed ghostlike through the misted air, and wondered if unpleasant
Junius Trent had found his cousin.

"Uncle Andy says rainbows are good luck. Why, Mama?"

"I expect because God painted one in the sky after the great
Flood we read about at prayers, do you remember? It was His promise to
us not to send quite so much rain again." Priscilla looked solemn, and
Susan added on a lighter note, "And there is also a legend that tells
of a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."

The big eyes widened. "Ooh! Then Mr. Val'tine's found it. The
rainbow yesterday had one foot right on his house! Oh, how monst'ous
grand! I'll have a very rich friend!"

"Priscilla," said Susan thoughtfully, "you haven't seen your
new friend today, have you?"

The brown curls danced under the neat little blue hat as
Priscilla shook her head briskly. "I pro'bly won't never see him again
after Uncle Andy was so dreffully savage to him. An' I was hoping very
bad to see him, 'cause I must tell him as he's mistakened about the
Fury."

"Mistaken, dear." Susan frowned in irritation. "And— there are
not such things as Furies."

"But, Mama, you told me if I had my teeth filed to points I
would look like a Fury, and—"

"Yes, but Furies are only in fairy stories really, darling. We
make up stories about them for fun, but there are none in real life."

"But there
are
, Mama! There's one in the
Folly! I heard it! Honest and true, I did, Mama!"

The little face was so earnest. Heaven forfend whatever she'd
heard should cause her to have nightmares again. That
wretched
Montclair—to frighten her so! Somehow, thought Susan, she must put a
stop to this horrid business. She said, "Well—if you're sure, perhaps
you'd best take me to see this Folly."

"Oh, no, Mama! I promised Mr. Val'tine I wouldn't never go
there again, and I wouldn't have, only Wolfgang made me!"

"Pris—cil—la… !"

"He did! He did, Mama! I
telled
and
telled
him how we wasn't to go there no more, but Wolfgang is so foxed in his
ways, you know, and—"

Susan repressed a smile. "You mean—
fixed
in his ways, I think."

"Do I? Uncle Angelo said 'foxed.' Anyway, whatever it is,
Wolfgang is it. A very naughty doggie, I told him. Very stern I said
it, Mama. Only, I knew Mr. Val'tine wouldn't leave
his
best friend in hidjus peril, and Wolfgang was hanging right over the
edge and barking and barking."

"Edge? I thought you said it was a Folly, dear?"

"Yes, Mama. It was. A long long time ago. But it's all falling
down now, and there's a hugeous hole in the middle what goes right
through to China, I 'spect!"

It sounded most unpleasant. "So you had to go and drag that
naughty dog away, did you?"

"No. I called him, only he's so brave he wanted to fight that
Fury. But the Fury woke up, and that's when I found out Mr. Val'tine
had made a mistake, 'cause he said it was a lady Fury, Mama, and it
isn't. It's a gentleman Fury."

With a fond smile, Susan asked, "Did he come out and chase
you?"

Priscilla shivered and turned pale. "I don't know. When he
shouted my name, only soft and creepily you know, I was
so
frighted! I ran and ran all the way home!"

A dreadful suspicion began to raise gooseflesh on Susan's
skin. She reined up, and the child halted her pony. "Dearest, when did
this happen?"

"This morning, Mama. When you was saying goodbye to Uncle
Andy."

"I see." It was silly, of course, but— "Mama wants you to
think very carefully now. Did you
really
hear a
voice? Or was it just a make-believe voice?"

Again the determined shake of the little head. "No, Mama. I
din't make it up. Not this time I din't. But I'll never go near there
again, I truly won't."