Sally James (6 page)

“No, the knocker is left on the door.” He plied it vigorously. “Judith is not fond of the country, and remains in town as much as she can. But she may be out driving or visiting, in which case we will sit and wait for her – ah, Parsons, is Lady Beverley at home?”

“Sir Denzil! Come in, my lady has but a few minutes since come home.”

“Good. George, take the chaise round to Mount Street, and the horses to the post house. I will walk home.”

The butler who had answered the door was holding it open invitingly, and Miranda, realising with a shock that Denzil did not live here with his sister as she had imagined, walked into the hall without noticing a single detail of it. Denzil took her arm and guided her into a small room to the right.

“Bring wine and some refreshments, Parsons, and we will wait here for my sister.”

“Do you not live here too?” Miranda burst out as soon as the man had shut the door. “What shall I do? I thought you would be with me!”

“I shall, my dear, for much of the time, as I live but a short distance away. Judith will be able to look after you very well, there is no need to be concerned,” he said soothingly.

Miranda bit back further protests, realising she would have to learn how to go on without Denzil’s constant support, and reminding herself she ought to have known this from the start. She silently took the glass of wine he poured her when Parsons brought the refreshments into the room, and sipped it slowly. She had regained her poise and was able to smile composedly at the lady who then entered the room and was introduced as Lady Beverley.

“Welcome to Green Street, Miss de Lisle. Denzil, I had no notion you were back in town! Why did you not tell me you planned to return so soon?”

“I have only just arrived, Judith, and it was a rather sudden decision! But I must have a word with you. Miranda, will you excuse us while I explain matters to my sister?”

Lady Beverley looked curiously from one to the other, then smiled comfortingly at Miranda, and pointed to some periodicals lying on a small table nearby.

“I hope you can amuse yourself with these, my dear, while Denzil comes with me.”

They left her alone, and though she dutifully turned the pages of the first magazine she picked up, she did not read a word or notice a single illustration, so anxious was she to know how Denzil’s sister was receiving the remarkable story he had to impart to her.

* * * *

Judith had led the way upstairs to her boudoir, and settled herself in an elegant satin covered chair before she spoke.

“Well, little brother, what start is this?” she asked affectionately. “Who is the child, and what matters are there to explain?”

He stood smiling down at her. “Dear Judith, I want you to do me a great favour. I am looking after her, and as I obviously cannot take her to Mount Street, will you have her for a time until I can arrange something else?”

Judith’s smile disappeared. “Denzil! How dare you! Are you asking me to countenance one of your intrigues? I would not have thought you capable of that.”

He stared, then gave a shout of laughter. “Oh, Judith! You were always too prone to jump to conclusions! Does Miranda look like one of the muslin company? Come now, does she?”

“How should I know?” his sister asked tartly. “You are reputed to have a wide acquaintance with them, so you should know better than I!”

“Not a very wide acquaintance,” he murmured, laughing at her indignant expression. “But what in the world did I say to give you that notion?”

“Why else should you be looking after a young female, and planning to arrange other accommodation for her?”

“Because she happens to be my ward,” he said slowly. “Her father was a French émigré who lived secluded near Trewyn, and gave her into my care when he died a few years back. She has been, until now, in the charge of a governess. You are going to present her to the ton. “

“A taradiddle!” she declared instantly. “There are no French émigrés anywhere near Trewyn. I don’t believe a single word of it!”

“But it is what the world will believe, at least for the time being. And the last part is true. She has been living secluded with a governess, and I do hope, my dearest sister, that you will take her in charge, for I can scarcely take on that task, can I?”

“But why? Sit down, instead of looming over me like that, and tell me the whole.”

“I stole her from an enchanted island,” he mused, and Judith gave a most unladylike snort.

“Be sensible,” she ordered, “or I shall believe it is you that has been bewitched.”

“Maybe I have. The island was enchanted when she was on it. I know not how we have left it. Distracted, I have no doubt. At least that abominable governess will be.”

“What governess and what island?” Judith asked through clenched teeth, firmly repressing a desire to revert to their nursery days and shake him.

He became serious, and told her of the storm and the wreck of his yacht, at which she exclaimed in dismay.

“I was in no real danger, Judith, for you know what a strong swimmer I am. But I was washed up on this island, and she discovered me. I tell you, I wondered for a while if I was delirious. She was so fair, and so lovely,” he said, breaking off again.

“Yes, I can see that, but surely you are too familiar with female beauties to remain bewitched for long?” Judith observed.

“I wonder?” he murmured, and then became brisk again. “It was not only her beauty and her unconventional attire, but what she said. First she asked if I was real, and it seemed that apart from an old servant on the island she had never seen a man before, only pictures of them.” Judith stared in disbelief. “Then, when I asked how long she had lived on the island, she said since she was a year old, sixteen years, and further that they never had a visitor, and she had never been away from the island.”

“That sounds incredible!”

“Does it not? But the governess, whom I later met, and the two servants, this man and his wife, confirmed it.”

“Why? In God’s name, why? Who could treat anyone so? Was the governess some eccentric recluse? Could she have been the girl’s mother?”

“Oh no, she was a governess, and a learned one, for the girl knows Latin and Greek. Miranda – incidentally she said she had no name save Redruth, where she was born, and knew not what her family was – “

“This gets more and more impossible!” Judith declared. “What next?”

“Miranda calmly told me the reason for her enforced isolation was that she was mad.”

“What?” Judith started to her feet. “Denzil, what is this? You have stolen away some poor mad creature and brought her to London, away from her guardians! How could you!”

“Listen, my dear, and do not be so ready to believe the worst of me. She is no more mad than you or I. Do people who are mad know it themselves? She is an exceptionally clever girl, and has read far more books than you have! She is able to reason clearly, and is as normal as anyone I have met.”

“But – even so, I believe mad people can often be normal, or behave normally for long periods, and their madness only appears from time to time. Look at the poor King! He had spells of madness several times but recovered from them before he finally succumbed!”

“But they did not occur before he was a year old! How can anyone say a child is mad at that age? Would you have accepted it if someone had said it of your children? No! Indeed you would not! Perhaps if a child is an idiot, as poor Tommy in the village at Trewyn, it would have shown in general backwardness. Tommy did not walk, remember, until he was over five. But in every way Miranda is quick and intelligent, and must have been so as a baby. And she has seen no doctor since, so there is no expert opinion on it, just what she has been told by that harpy!”

“I can see you believe it,” Judith said unhappily.

“We have been travelling for the best part of a week, and I have been in her company every day, and I have seen not the slightest indications of a disturbed mind! None whatsoever! They, the guardians, said that if she were excited she would lose her reason, but she has not. She has managed the strangeness with admirable calm. Oh, I knew there was a slight risk they could be right when I removed her, but it seemed preferable to take that risk than condemn her to pass the remainder of her life in such a situation! I knew her quite well by then, for I had spent a whole day talking with her, and I was right. She has blossomed with the excitement, not relapsed into madness.”

“What other reason did you have?” Judith asked slowly.

“Could you have left a girl you knew was as sane as yourself with no hope of ever getting away?”

“No, I suppose you are right. But you are not usually so philanthropic.”

“I wanted to prove to her she was normal, and she is convinced now, but I also want to prove it to her family, who must have been responsible for the situation! She had all she needed in the material way, except for freedom and the opportunity to live a normal life!”

“Do you know her family? If you say she did not know her name, how can you hope to discover it?”

“Does she remind you of anyone?” he asked hopefully, but his sister shook her head. “I have a feeling that I have seen someone like her, and yet, surely if there is anyone else so lovely, I would not have forgotten! But I have a good idea who her father is, and restoring her to him is not quite what I have in mind! I mean, if I am right, to ruin him when the facts are known, and after she has demonstrated to the world that he acted brutally and unjustly to her.”

“Denzil! So that is it! You mean to use her for your own ends. But who, Denzil? Who is it you hate so much?”

“Who but Sir Henry Carstairs?”

Chapter Five

She went deathly white, and clutched at the back of a chair for support. He sprang to help her, and leading her to a chair forced her to sit. She stared up at him, breathing hard.

“That devil!” she whispered.

“As you say, Judith, that highly respectable Member, that devil!”

“The man who murdered our brother!”

“He not only killed Geoffrey, he hastened Father’s death!” Denzil’s tone was bitter.

“Father was undoubtedly very ill previously,” Judith said, endeavouring to be fair.

“He would have survived some months more if Carstairs had not forced that meeting on Geoffrey. And then fired before the signal. It was typical of the man!”

“We cannot be absolutely certain he did so,” Judith said slowly.

“When his own second was the first person to inform me of it? Some years later, I’ll admit, and when he was in his cups, but it had so sickened Jenkins he cut Carstairs from then on.”

“But why was he not brought to book at the time? If his own second accused him?”

“Old Sir Henry was one of Prinny’s drinking cronies. It was all hushed up, provided he agreed to disappear for a time. Father was too ill to make a noise about it, and I was but twelve, and at Harrow, so I could do nothing then. When I was old enough to act Carstairs had inherited the title and was coming to be regarded as a pillar of respectability! Then Jenkins, my chief witness, died, most conveniently for Sir Henry! I swore that some day I would destroy him, and now it appears chance has given me a weapon.”

“How can you be so convinced she is his daughter?”

“I cannot prove it. Indeed, Miranda does not in the least resemble him, or any of his family that I can call to mind. But the island belongs to him. He must have arranged or agreed to her being there. Whether she is his daughter or not, that would be sufficient to damn him in the eyes of the
ton
when they have come to know Miranda, and realise the treatment he subjected her to.”

“Can you discover any more, Denzil? You cannot lower yourself to questioning his servants.”

“I shall contrive. It was rumoured in the village she was a by-blow, there may well be other rumours that will point the way. And I shall be intrigued to see what action he takes when her disappearance is reported to him.”

“That cannot be for some time, for he is abroad – in Canada, I understand – and not expected back before Christmas.”

“Then that gives you ample time to prepare the girl and launch her, which is opportune. There are plenty of people in town?”

“Oh, yes, and will be. People complain London is dead out of the season, but I have never found a lack of entertainment! Let those who enjoy shooting their various birds and tramping over muddy fields do so, there are many who do not incline to such amusements!”

“I knew you would support me, Judith.”

“That poor girl! What must her condition have been like, so isolated? How old is she, Denzil?”

“She tells me seventeen.”

Judith looked at him, a speculative gleam in her eyes.

“And it is eighteen years since he murdered Geoffrey, and then disappeared for a while. He spent most of that time in Cornwall. It appears that he did not alter his reprobate ways! It fits, Denzil! She was born in Cornwall, you said?”

He nodded. “Redruth, hence that abominable name she had. Could they not even be interested enough to choose a proper name for her!”

“I wonder who her mother was?”

“You did not hear any scandal at the time?”

She reflected, then slowly shook her head. “After what had happened, naturally the families were not on visiting terms, and even the servants kept apart. Remember, I was only fourteen, so if there had been anything of that nature, you can be sure Miss Watson would have done her utmost to prevent my hearing of it.”

“Who is there that might have heard something?”

“I can think of no one immediately, but I will cast around, and see what I can do.”

“Probably a serving maid, and hushed up, but in that case why did he bother to provide for her? It is most unlike him to accept unwelcome responsibilities.”

Judith smiled at him determinedly. “You make me almost as eager to discover his secrets as you are!” she declared. “It was monstrous of him to allow her to think she was mad, whatever her birth! And she is so pretty, from the short glimpse I had of her. I will enter into your schemes, Denzil, and fully enjoy my part in them.”

“Bless you! I predict she will be a sensation, Judith! That uncommon colouring of her hair alone would ensure that, but she has such a lovely face, and so elegant a figure!”