Legend of the Seventh Virgin (38 page)

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Authors: Victoria Holt

Tags: #Cornwall, #Gothic, #Romance, #Suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: Legend of the Seventh Virgin
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“And you haven’t seen him since?”

“No, Ma’am. I ain’t seen him since.”

Everyone must join in the search, I commanded. Everything must be left. My son must be found. We had established that he was not in the house; he could not be far away because Polore had seen him only an hour before in the stables.

I cannot explain all that I suffered during the search. Again and again hope was raised and dashed. I felt as though I lived through years of torment. I blamed Mellyora. Was she not supposed to look after him? If anything has happened to him, I thought, I shall have paid in full for anything I did to Mellyora.

She was white and harassed and I had not seen her so unhappy since Justin went. I reminded myself that she loved Carlyon; and it seemed to me that my grief would always be hers. We shared our troubles … except on one occasion when her loss was my gain.

I saw Johnny riding into the stable and called to him. “What the devil … ?” he began.

“Carlyon’s lost.”

“Lost! Where?”

“If we knew, he wouldn’t be lost.” My grief was so great I had to release some of it in anger. My lips were working and I couldn’t control them. “I’m frightened,” I said.

“He’s playing somewhere.”

“We’ve searched the house and grounds …” I looked wildly about me and I caught the glint of the sun on the Virgins.

Then a sudden fear struck me. I had shown him the stones the other day; he had been fascinated by them. “Don’t go near the old mine, Carlyon. Promise.” He had given his ready promise and he was not a child to break his word. But suppose my very words had aroused some curiosity; suppose he had become so fascinated that he could not resist the temptation to examine the mine; suppose he had forgotten his promise? After all he was little more than a baby.

I turned to Johnny and clutched at his arm. “Johnny,” I said, “suppose he went to the mine …”

I had never seen Johnny so frightened and I warmed to him. There had been times when I had reproached him for his lack of interest in our son. Oh God, I thought. He is as frightened as I am.

“No,” said Johnny. “
No
.”

“But if he did …?”

“There’s a warning there …”

“He couldn’t read it. Or if he did, it might have made him want to explore.”

We stared at each other wildly.

Then I said: “We’ll have to find out. They’ll have to go down.”

“Go down the mine! Are you mad … Kerensa?”

“But he might be there …”

“It’s madness.”

“At this very moment he might be lying hurt …”

“A fall down there would kill him.”

“Johnny!”

“It’s a mad idea. He’s not there. He’s playing somewhere. He’s in the house … He’s …”

“We’ve got to search the mine. There’s no time to be lost. Now … now.”

“Kerensa!”

I threw him off and started to run towards the stables. I would summon Polore and some of the men. They must prepare without delay. This new terror obsessed me. Carlyon had fallen down the old mine shaft. I visualized his fear if he were conscious; the horror of his not being.

“Polore!” I called. “Polore.”

Then I heard the sound of horse’s hoofs and my sister-in-law Essie came riding into the stable yard.

I scarcely looked at her. I had no time for her on an occasion like this. But she was shouting at me. “Oh, Kerensa, Joe said to come and tell ’ee without delay because you’d be anxious like. Carlyon, he be with his uncle.”

I nearly fainted with relief.

“He did come over fifteen minutes since. Some tale about his pony needing Joe. Joe said to ride over right away and tell ’ee where he be. He said you’d be nigh fit to drop with the worry of it.”

Johnny was standing beside me.

“Oh, Johnny,” I cried, because I saw that he was as happy as I was.

Then I threw myself into his arms and we clung together. I had never felt so close to my husband.

It was an hour later when Joe brought Carlyon back to the Abbas. Carlyon was standing up with Joe in the trap; Joe had allowed him to hold the reins with him so that Carlyon believed that he himself was driving the trap.

I had rarely seen him look so happy.

Joe was happy too. He loved children and longed for a son of his own; so far there was no sign that Essie was going to produce one.

“Mamma!” called Carlyon as soon as he saw me, “Uncle Joe’s come to mend Carpony.”

Carpony was his own name for the pony, derived from Carlyon’s pony. He found his own special name for everything he loved.

I stood by the trap looking at him, great thankfulness in my heart to see him, alive, unmaimed. I could scarcely keep the tears from my eyes.

Joe noticed my emotion. “I sent Essie over the minute he come,” he said, gently, “knowing how you’d feel.”

“Thank you, Joe,” I answered briskly.

“A proper little man ’e be … a-driving my trap now. What next?”

“Driving the trap now,” repeated Carlyon happily. “Coming to mend Carpony now, Uncle Joe?”

“Yes, reckon we’d be better getting along to see how that little old pony be.”

Carlyon said: “We’ll soon mend him, eh, Uncle Joe?”

“That’s one thing I reckon we can be pretty sure on.”

There was a camaraderie between them which disturbed me. I had not meant the future Sir Carlyon to become too friendly with the vet. He must acknowledge him as his uncle, it was true, but there were not to be too many meetings. If Joe had been the doctor it would have been different.

I lifted Carlyon out of the trap. “Dearest,” I said, “another time, don’t go off without telling us first.”

The happiness died out of his face. Joe must have told him how worried I should be. He put his arms about my neck and said softly: “Tell next time.”

How adorable he was! It hurt me to see him so friendly with Joe and yet at the same time I was pleased. This was my own brother who had once been very dear to me — and still was, although I was disappointed in him.

I watched Joe go into the stables. His limp always softened me towards him, always reminded me of that night when Kim had carried him back to the cottage; somehow there was an ache in my heart — but not for the past. How could I, who was so successful now, want to be back there? But there was a feeling of longing to know what Kim was doing now.

Joe examined the pony. “Not much wrong with her, I reckon.”

Joe scratched his head thoughtfully.

“Not much wrong with her, I reckon too,” repeated Carlyon, scratching his head.

“Nothing that we can’t put right, seems to me.”

Carlyon smiled. His eyes all for his wonderful Uncle Joe.

The dinner party that night was scarcely a success. I had not had an opportunity of speaking to Johnny about the wine bills during the day and while we sat at dinner I remembered them.

The Fedders were not a very interesting couple. James Fedder was in his late fifties, his wife a few years younger. I had nothing in common with her.

Mellyora dined with us, although I had not invited an extra man to make us an even number, since the Fedders were with us, because James wanted to talk business with Johnny, and after the meal the men would be left to talk at the dinner table over their port.

I was glad when Mellyora, Mrs. Fedder, and I could retire to the drawing room, although I found it a very boring evening and was even more delighted when the time arrived for the Fedders to leave.

It had been an exhausting day: first the shock about the bills, then Carlyon’s escape, and after that a dinner party which was not in the least stimulating.

In our bedroom I decided to open the subject of the bills with my husband.

He looked tired, I thought, but the matter could be shelved no longer: it was too important.

“Haggety has disturbed me, Johnny,” I began. “Today he showed me two demands from wine merchants. He says they won’t supply us with any more wine until the bills are paid.”

Johnny shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s … it’s insulting,” I said.

He yawned, feigning an indifference which I suspected he did not feel. “My dear Kerensa, people like us don’t feel we have to pay bills as soon as they’re submitted.”

“So people like you are in the habit of having tradespeople refuse to supply you?”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’ve had it straight from Haggety. This sort of thing didn’t happen when Justin was here.”

“All sorts of things happened when Justin was here which don’t happen now. For instance, wives mysteriously fell down staircases to their deaths.”

He was changing the issue; just as I liked to justify myself when feeling guilty, so did he.

“The bills should be paid, Johnny.”

“What with?”

“Money.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “You find it and I’ll pay the bills.”

“We can’t entertain our guests if we can’t give them wine to drink.”

“Haggety must find someone who
will
supply us.”

“And run up more bills?”

“You’ve got a cottage mentality, Kerensa.”

“I’m glad of it if it means I pay my debts.”

“Oh, don’t talk to me of money.”

“Johnny, tell me frankly, are we in difficulties … financial difficulties?”

“There are always money troubles.”

“Are there? Were there in Justin’s day?”

“Everything was perfectly arranged in Justin’s day. He was so clever in every way … until his cleverness caught up with him.”

“Johnny, I want to know everything.”

“To know all is to forgive,” he quoted lightly.

“Are we short of money?”

“We are.”

“And what are you doing about it?”

“Hoping and praying for a miracle.”

“Johnny, how bad are things?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll pull through. We always do.”

“I must go into these matters with you … soon.”

“Soon?” he said.

A sudden thought struck me. “You haven’t been asking James Fedder for money?”

He laughed. “The shoe is on the other foot, my sweet wife. Fedder is looking for a kind friend who’ll come to his aid. He chose the wrong one tonight.”

“He wanted to borrow money from you?”

Johnny nodded.

“And what did you say?”

“Oh I gave him a blank check and told him to help himself. There was so much in the bank, I wouldn’t miss a few thousand.”

“Johnny … seriously.”

“Seriously, Kerensa, I told him I was in a low state. The Fedder mine’s running out, in any case. It’s no use trying to bolster things up.”

“The mine,” I said. “Of course, the mine!”

He stared at me.

“I know we shan’t like it but if it’s the only way … and if there’s tin there as people say there is.”

His lips were tight; his eyes blazing.

“What are you saying?” he demanded.

“But if it’s the only way …” I began.

He cut me short. “You …” he said so low that I could scarcely hear. “
You
… to suggest such a thing. What do you think?” He took me by the shoulders and shook me roughly. “Who are you … to think you can rule the Abbas?”

For the moment his eyes were so cruel that I believed he hated me.

“Open the mine!” he went on. “When you know as well as I do …”

He lifted his hand; he was so angry that I thought he was going to strike me.

Then he turned abruptly away.

He lay at one side of the bed; I at the other.

I knew that he did not sleep until the early hours of the morning. It had been a strange disturbing day and its events would not be dismissed from my mind. I saw Mrs. Rolt and Mrs. Salt standing before me; I saw Haggety with the wine bills; Carlyon riding with Joe, holding the reins of Joe’s horse in plump beloved fingers; and I saw Johnny, his face white with anger.

A bad day, I thought. The stirring of ghosts; the opening of cupboards and disclosing old skeletons best forgotten.

From then on my days were disturbed. My attention became focused on Johnny because I had suddenly realized that he was no fit person to handle the estate and that his mismanagement could have its effect on Carlyon’s future.

I knew little of business matters but I did know how easily inefficient people could get into trouble. I went to see Granny, taking Carlyon with me. My son was delighted when he heard where we were going. I myself drove the little trap I used for such short journeys and Carlyon stood before me, holding the reins as he had with Joe. All the time he was chattering about his Uncle Joe. Uncle Joe says horses have feelings just like people. Uncle Joe says all animals know what you’re saying, so you have to be careful not to hurt them. Uncle Joe says …

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