The Curse of Deadman's Forest (16 page)

“Here we are,” Lafitte announced into the silence as the motorcar made a right turn onto a private drive.

“My word,” whispered Theo as she gazed at the grand chateaux at the end of the stretch of road. “What a lovely home!”

“Thank you, young miss,” said Lafitte. “I believe you shall be most comfortably looked after until the earl arrives to escort you back to England.”

“Did his telegram say when he might be along, sir?” Ian asked. He was terribly worried about the earl’s being left behind in Spain.

“He assured me that he would be along on the last train out of Madrid. And that will put him in Toulouse no later than midnight.”

Theo sat back in her seat with a sigh when the car pulled to a stop. “Thank heavens,” she said as the chauffeur opened her door.

They all trooped out onto the driveway and waited for their host to lead them into the stately home. Monsieur Lafitte motioned them to a set of stairs leading to the front door, and Ian had a moment to take in the impressive yellow stucco structure with white shutters, flowering ivy, and a clay-tiled roof.

He could clearly see that the small castle was built in the shape of a horseshoe, with two tall towers flanking the main entrance.

“It’s quite lovely, isn’t it?” Theo whispered beside him.

Ian nodded. The place appealed to him immensely.

Once inside, they were met by one of the loveliest women Ian had ever laid eyes on. She was tall for a lady, nearly level with her husband, with a beautiful willowy figure, rich brown hair, large gray-blue eyes, and a delicate nose. She smiled at them each in turn, and Ian felt his insides flip over when her angelic gaze settled on him.

“Allow me to introduce my wife,” said their host, “Madame Jasmine Lafitte.”

“Good afternoon,” she said in a smooth, husky voice,
adding a small curtsy, and Ian was so transfixed by her beauty that he almost forgot to bow in return.

Beside him Theo stifled a giggle. “Goodness, Ian,” she whispered. “Try not to fall over, will you?”

Ian realized he’d bent over so low that it must look like he had a stomachache. He immediately straightened up and felt his cheeks flush. “How do you do?” he said belatedly.

Madame Lafitte smiled sweetly at him and turned round to wave at someone behind her. “And this is our daughter, Océanne.”

Ian reluctantly tore his gaze away from the beautiful woman in front of him only to suck in his breath as he laid eyes on an even lovelier creature. Tall like her mother, with the same gray-blue eyes and facial bone structure, Océanne favored her father with her auburn hair and alabaster skin. “Hello, how do you do?” she said shyly, and Ian felt all the blood drain right out of his head when her own rich voice reached his ears.

“You all right?” he heard Theo whisper. Ian blinked hard, turning slightly to assure her he was fine, when he noticed she wasn’t talking to him, but to Carl, who was swooning on his feet. “Carl,” Theo said as the boy’s knees seemed to wobble.
“Carl!”

But it was too late. Carl’s eyes rolled straight up into his head and he tilted backward. Monsieur Lafitte reached out in the nick of time and barely spared Carl’s head from hitting the marble floor.

“Oh, the poor boy!” cried Madame Lafitte. “Is he unwell?”

“I believe it’s because he hasn’t eaten,” Theo said,
crouching down beside Carl and looking up at Ian as if asking him when Carl had eaten last.

Ian tried to think back to when he’d seen Carl eat, and realized with alarm that his last meal had been the breakfast roll they’d shared with the general. “He only had a bit of bread this morning,” he admitted.

“Oh, that won’t do,” said Monsieur Lafitte as he gently laid Carl down on the floor. “He’s far too thin to eat so little.”

“Margot!” called Madame Lafitte, and a maidservant rushed to her side. “Quickly, gather some pillows and a blanket for the lad until he comes round, and then we’ll need to get some nourishment into him immediately.”

The maidservant rushed off to do her mistress’s bidding and Ian watched with concern until he noticed that Océanne had also knelt down next to Theo and her mother and was holding Carl’s hand while wiping his brow. “Poor thing,” she said with a tsk.

Ian felt a knot of jealousy form in the pit of his stomach. He’d had only half a breakfast roll and a small sandwich and you didn’t seem him fainting at the first sign of a pretty girl.

Carl began showing signs of consciousness again. His hand gripped Océanne’s and his eyes fluttered. “I think he’s waking up,” Océanne said just as the maid arrived with a pillow and blanket.

“What’s happened?” Carl moaned as he tried to sit up.

Monsieur Lafitte placed a hand on Carl’s chest to ease him back down. “There, there,” he said, tucking the pillow under his head. “Lie still for a moment, lad.”

“How’d I get down here?” Carl asked, his eyes now focused and staring at them in confusion.

“You fainted in front of everyone,” Ian said bluntly, and tried not to notice when Theo gave him a reproachful glare.

“You’ve gone the whole day without a meal,” Theo said gently. “Ian and I had a nibble from the sandwich cart on the train, but you and the professor were asleep when the cart came past, and we thought it best not to disturb you. I’m so terribly sorry, Carl. I should have insisted we wake you up for a bite to eat.”

Carl blinked rapidly, as if he was trying hard to take in Theo’s rushed explanation. “S’alright, Theo,” he said, and this time he did sit up. “I’m fine, thank you all,” he added as everyone seemed to crowd closer to him.

“Yes, well, if you feel up to it, come with us to the dining hall, young man,” said Monsieur Lafitte, helping Carl to his feet.

By now Carl was looking rather sheepish and Ian felt a small pang of guilt for speaking so harshly to his friend. At least, he felt bad until he saw Océanne hold out her arm and say, “Lean on me, Carl. I’ll walk you to the table.”

Carl blushed and took her arm. “Thank you,” he said. “And might I say, that’s a lovely ribbon you’re wearing.”

The knot in Ian’s stomach expanded and he could feel himself settle into a foul mood. “What’s the matter?” Theo whispered as they were led directly to the dining hall.

“He’s making a show of it all, don’t you think?” Ian snapped irritably, pointing to Carl, who was walking ahead of them with Océanne.

“No,” Theo said. “I think he’s being quite good about it. After all, he fainted right in front of a group of strangers. I’d be horribly embarrassed if that happened to me.”

Ian knew she was right, but still, he couldn’t resist feeling angry with his friend as Carl continued to command Océanne’s attentions. Ian was drawn to the girl in a way he couldn’t quite describe. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on, and he desperately wanted her to look at him the way she was fondly eyeing Carl.

The Lafittes’ servants were already laying out several dishes filled to the brim with delicious-smelling food and Ian heard his stomach grumble. He stood back politely and waited for the adults to take their seats, noticing how Monsieur Lafitte pulled out the chair for his wife. Taking his cue from their host, Ian rushed to offer the same cordiality to Océanne. She smiled brightly at him and he felt his heart skip a beat.

Carl took the seat on the left of Océanne, and Ian was quick to take the right. Theo sat next to him and he noticed that she was struggling to hide a fit of giggles. “What?” he asked her innocently.

“Nothing,” she said, ducking her chin.

Ian scowled at her and waited for his dinner to be served while he struggled to come up with something witty to say to Océanne. At Monsieur Lafitte’s request, the professor was describing to their hosts the challenging time they’d had in the short day and a half they’d spent in Spain.

When he got to the point in his story when he admitted to falling asleep while attempting to copy the journal of his
former colleague, and being shaken awake by Carl, Océanne turned to Carl and asked, “What happened next?”

Carl said, “Well, I followed Ian, who’d dashed out after Carmina. The cook had stolen the journal and she gave it over to a man in a lorry waiting on a nearby road. When I saw Ian sneak into the back of the lorry, I couldn’t very well let him go it alone, so I jumped in after him.”

“How very brave of you!” Océanne said.

Carl blushed and Ian ground his teeth together. “That?” Carl said. “Oh, that was nothing! You should have seen me dodge a bus in heavy traffic a bit later. Ian and I had to run for our lives when a wicked woman with a gun started shooting at us!”

Ian snorted derisively. “Sheer luck you weren’t killed,” he said bitterly, hearing the mockery in his own voice but unable to stop it. “And a load of good it did you! You had to cross right back through that traffic, didn’t you? Lucky for me a passing stranger was nearby. I’d have been done for if I’d relied on you, Carl.”

“Ian!” Theo whispered harshly, but he ignored her.

“Did you say that a woman was shooting at you?” gasped Madame Lafitte, her hand moving to cover her heart. “How dreadful!”

“The boys did have a rather perilous time of it,” the professor commented, obviously enjoying all the attention they were receiving from the Lafittes. “A very evil woman named Frau Van Schuft was after the journal and seemed determined to have it at any cost. She even shot at Ian and nicked him in the ear!”

Ian moved his hand to his ear when he noticed the shocked stares of everyone around him. “It only stings a little,” he said.

“I’ll treat that with some salt water after you’ve eaten, Ian,” Madame Lafitte promised.

“What happened next?” Océanne eagerly asked the professor.

The professor smiled and said, “Our brave lads managed to leap from the lorry, snatch back the journal, and attempt an escape. But Frau Van Schuft gave chase and corralled the boys on the streets of Madrid. If a very brave stranger hadn’t intervened, I daresay, they might not have survived the incident!”

To Ian’s immense frustration, Océanne looked at Carl with renewed adoration, and Ian simmered in his seat, pushing his food around, his appetite having all but left him. He said nothing more the rest of the evening unless directly asked, and all Theo’s efforts to pull him out of his foul mood were in vain.

Shortly after their evening meal, Madame Lafitte tended to Ian’s ear, making a point of assuring him that it wasn’t serious. A bit later, dessert was served in the parlor; then, when Ian and Theo began to yawn, it was suggested by the Lafittes that they allow their guests to retire, as the day had obviously been quite long for them. More inquiries were made into Carl’s well-being, and he reassured them over and over again that now that he’d had a bite to eat, he felt very well indeed.

They were led upstairs and shown to their rooms. To
Ian’s irritation, he noted that he and Carl were to share a room again. Carl seemed oblivious to Ian’s current state of discord and talked incessantly about how pretty Océanne was and how delightfully nice as well. It wasn’t until Ian rolled over and snapped, “Would you please shut up, Carl? I’m trying to sleep!” that the room fell silent, although the air grew heavy with discontent.

Exhausted though he was, Ian struggled to fall asleep. He knew he’d been both unfair and unkind to Carl, but he felt that his friend should have at least noticed that Ian was attracted to Océanne too, and not made such a show of her obvious preference for him.

Ian awoke several times that night, tossing and turning as his thoughts churned as well. His black mood carried over to the morning, and when at last he gave up his effort to get some much-needed rest, he sat up in bed and glared hard at the sleeping boy across the room, quite convinced by now that Carl was not half the friend he pretended to be.

Silently, Ian put on his trousers, noting with a snarl that it was no wonder Océanne hadn’t paid him the slightest attention—he was still dressed in his dirty and bloodstained nightshirt, for heaven’s sake!

With a heavy sigh he left the room and made his way downstairs, only to stop short as the front door opened and in walked the Earl of Kent. Ian’s mood immediately brightened. “My lord!” he called, and hurried down the last few steps. “You’ve come!”

“Good morning, Ian,” the earl said cordially. “Yes, I’ve
made it at last. And my journey here was not without incident, I’m afraid.”

“What happened?” Ian asked, but at that moment Monsieur Lafitte came through the door as well. “My butler will show you to your room directly, Hastings, as I’m sure you’d appreciate the opportunity to freshen up.”

“That would be marvelous, thank you, Leopold,” said the earl kindly.

“Hastings!” called a voice from down the hall, and both the earl and Ian looked up as Madame Lafitte rushed toward them, her arms outstretched and the most delighted smile on her face.

But Ian was shocked that the earl seemed to stiffen as she drew near, and when the lady leaned in to throw her arms about him, the earl pulled away. “Madame,” the earl said cordially with a small bow. Ian noticed that the earl’s eyes never met hers. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again. I trust you’ve been well?”

Madame Lafitte seemed equally surprised by the rebuff, but she recovered herself quickly. “Yes, Hastings,” she said, her hands fluttering at her collar as if she was suddenly nervous. “And you?”

“I’ve been well,” the earl said, his posture rigid and his speech a bit clipped.

There was an awkward sort of silence that followed, and Ian caught a look that passed between the Lafittes, as if they were disappointed but not surprised by the earl’s behavior. Even Ian knew that the earl was acting most unusually and
he couldn’t for the life of him understand why the earl would treat someone as nice as Madame Lafitte so frostily.

The earl seemed to be aware of the uncomfortable silence, so he quickly bowed to his hostess before excusing himself to the room the Lafittes’ butler was ready to show him.

Ian moved out of the way so that the earl and the servant could climb the stairs, and as the earl passed, he whispered, “Come with me, lad.”

Ian followed dutifully all the way up to the third story, where the butler opened a set of double doors to reveal a large suite, painted a warm shade of apricot, with gold crown molding and a beautiful fresco adorning the ceiling. The butler offered to unpack for the earl, but was declined, and after the man had bowed himself out of the room, the earl turned wearily to the bed, sat down, and said, “I was unable to convince Señora Castillo to come along with me.”