Love and the Loathsome Leopard (17 page)

Wivina, however, persuaded him to eat nearly all the omelette and a roll and butter.

Then as he leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes she kissed his forehead.

“You are being very brave, Richard,” she said, “and I am so glad you are here with me. It would be much worse without you.”

He caught at her hand as she turned away.

“Do you really mean that?” he asked. “I feel pretty helpless. How can I protect you against Farlow? How can I?”

“Papa will help us,” Wivina said almost beneath her breath. “He always said that however bad things were, we must never give up hope.”

She felt Richard’s fingers relax on hers and realised she was talking to herself.

He had fallen asleep.

She looked down at him for a moment, then went to her own room and locked and bolted the door. Although she was desperately tired when finally she got into bed, she found it difficult to sleep.

All she could think of was Jeffrey Farlow’s evil eyes looking at her as she had heard him saying they were to be married that evening.

Then she thought of the leopard and felt for the first time the tears coming into her eyes.

He would not even know what was happening to her, she thought.

Perhaps in a day or two he would return to Larks Hall and Mrs. Briggs and old Rouse would tell him that she and Richard had disappeared and he would not know where they had gone.

She turned her face into the pillow.

Then at last a tempest of weeping overcame her and she cried until she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

*

Wivina awoke to hear somebody hammering on her bedroom door.

For a moment she thought she was back at Larks Hall and Emma was waking her. Then, with a sudden stab of terror, she remembered where she was and sat up in bed.

“Who – is it?” she asked.

“It’s me,” Jeffrey Farlow’s voice answered. “You’ve nearly slept the clock round, and I want to talk to you.”

“I am – asleep and very – tired”

“Open the door and hear what I’ve got to say.”

“I cannot do that,” Wivina answered.

She was lying in bed wearing only her chemise, and she felt that it would be an indignity to have him in her bedroom even if she was fully clothed.

In answer he rattled the handle of the door, and although Wivina looked apprehensively across the room she realised that the bolt was solid and it would be hard to break the lock.

“I want to talk to you,” Jeffrey Farlow said again, almost like a spoilt child.

Wivina climbed wearily out of bed and putting her cloak over her shoulders went nearer to the door.

“I can hear you without it being necessary to shout,” she said coldly.

“How long will it take you to dress?”

“Some time. I am still very tired.”

He obviously thought this over.

Then he said,

“Then you’ll doubtless be gratified to hear that I’ve arranged our marriage for first thing tomorrow morning.”

“I do
not
intend to marry you.”

“You’ll marry me!” he answered. “I’ll fetch you at nine o’clock.”

Wivina did not answer.

“I suppose you wouldn’t like to come down now and have some supper with me?”

Wivina looked towards the window.

She had been awakened with such a start that she had not realised what time of day it was. Now she saw that the sun was sinking and it was getting dark.

“I am tired,” she said. “I want to sleep.”

“You’re lucky I’m so considerate and I’ll let you,” Jeffrey Farlow replied. “For tonight, at any rate!”

The innuendo behind the words made Wivina shiver, but aloud she said:

“Thank you and I am indeed very tired.”

“You wouldn’t like me to come in and kiss you goodnight?”

Now he was speaking in that jeering, mocking voice which made her feel physically sick.

She did not answer but moved away from the door, and as if he knew what she had done he chuckled.

Then he called,

“Sleep well, Wivina! It’s the last night you’ll spend alone, as you well know.”

She heard him move away across the landing and down the stairs, and only when she could hear him no longer did she very cautiously unbolt her door and go into Richard’s room.

He was still asleep and he looked very young and defenceless with his eyes closed, his thin cheeks silhouetted against the pillows.

She stood looking down at him, feeling that somehow she ought to look after him.

But how? What sort of life was there for him even if she accepted the inevitable and married Jeffrey Farlow?

She thought of the leopard. How different he was in every way – a gentleman. The sort of man of whom her mother would have approved and been delighted to welcome as a son-in-law, someone whom Richard could emulate and admire.

Wivina put her hands up to her eyes.

What was the point? she thought.

She had been captured, kidnapped, and brought to this horrible place, and now there was no escape.

If Jeffrey Farlow said their marriage had been arranged to take place tomorrow morning, then he would have arranged it.

And she knew that however much she might protest he would drag her in front of the Mayor and after that she would be his wife in the eyes of the law.

She felt herself shiver, and she wondered, if she killed herself, what would become of Richard.

If she escaped, even by death, Jeffrey Farlow would have no use for her brother.

It was all a terrifying problem for which she had no solution and after some minutes she crept back into her room, locked herself in, and went back to bed.

Now she could not sleep, but lay awake in the darkness, facing a future so terrifying, so degrading, that it was hard not to scream at the sheer horror of it.

*

She must have dozed a little, for when she opened her eyes again the first golden fingers of the dawn were creeping up the sky.

It must be, she thought, only about four o’clock in the morning.

The light was very beautiful and quite suddenly her head seemed clearer and she felt a new spirit within herself.

‘I am crazy to stay here waiting for Jeffrey Farlow,’ she thought. ‘I must run away. I must hide somewhere.’

As the idea came to her she felt herself galvanised into action and the helplessness that had made her weak and tearful was gone.

She ran into Richard’s room.

He was still asleep and she put her hand on his shoulder.

“Wake up, Richard!” she said. “We must get away. We will hide somewhere”

“What are you talking about?” he asked drowsily.

“We have to escape,” she said urgently, “before Jeffrey Farlow comes for me at nine o’clock. He is determined to marry me.”

“Where can we go?” Richard asked, sitting up.

“I don’t know,” Wivina answered desperately, “but we cannot sit here. We have to do something!”

Richard smiled.

“You are right,” he said. “Why should we give in tamely? What time did you say he was coming for you?”

“Nine o’clock.”

“That should give us a few hours, at any rate. We can get quite a long way in that time. Hurry up, Wivina, and let’s start walking.”

Wivina bent forward to kiss her brother’s cheek.

“I knew I could rely on you,” she said and sped to her own room.

It took her only a few minutes to wash and get dressed, and having done so she put out her hand to draw the pistol from beneath her pillow.

As she did so, she heard the sudden sound of voices outside.

They were so loud that she moved to the window to see what was happening.

Coming from the direction of the warehouses up the road towards the inn were about half a dozen men.

Jeffrey Farlow was walking in the centre of them and she saw that the others were not the usual smugglers in their rough clothes, but pseudo-gentlemen like Farlow himself, dressed fashionably with high cravats, tight pantaloons and cutaway coats.

She guessed they were the heads of the smuggling gangs and she realised they were all extremely inebriated.

“Good ol’ Jeffrey!” one of them said as they neared the Inn. “Lesh have another bottle and drink to your last night of freedom.”

There was a general shout of assent at this and suddenly Wivina knew what was happening.

Jeffrey Farlow was enjoying a final bachelor party with his cronies.

She moved away from the window farther into the room in case they should see her peeping out.

Then she heard them burst into the inn, shouting for Henri.

This, she knew, was going to make it difficult for her and Richard to get away.

They would have to wait until the men below had gone, for as far as Wivina knew, there was no other way out of the inn.

Anyway, it would be far too dangerous to go down the stairs while they were drinking in the room below.

She slipped across the landing to warn Richard.

“I can hear them,” he said. “They are not likely to stay long, because presumably Farlow will want some sleep.”

“I doubt it!” Wivina said bitterly. “But we shall have to wait.”

There was laughter and sounds from below that made her think they were drinking toast after toast to the prospective bridegroom.

She left Richard’s room to go to the top of the stairs.

‘If only there were another staircase,’ she thought desperately, ‘we could slip out of the inn and be some miles outside the town before these men begin to sober up.

Suddenly she heard Jeffrey Farlow say,

“You should see her. You should see my future bride! The prettiest piece of goods you’ve ever set eyes on!”

“I’ll see her next trip,” someone answered. “We oughta be movin’ now. Should of gone several hours ago, if it comes to that!”

The speaker was obviously very drunk.

“You’ve got to see her now!” Jeffrey Farlow answered. “Wait – I’ll fetch her down to you.”

The impact of what he was saying penetrated Wivina’s mind and with a little gasp she turned quickly towards the door of her room.

As she did so the hem of her cloak caught on a rough nail at the top of the stairs.

As she tried to run it held her back and, although she tore herself free, Jeffrey Farlow was halfway up the stairs before she reached her door.

She rushed inside, but he had seen her and he threw himself forward even as she shut it and tried to ram home the bolt.

Wivina was so frightened that her fingers fumbled and, almost before she realised what was happening, the full force of his body crashed the door open and she fell backwards to find herself facing him.

“Trying to shut me out, were you?” he jeered. “Well, you’ve failed! I want you to come downstairs and meet my friends.”

“No!” Wivina screamed.

“Refusing to obey me, are you?”

He did not speak aggressively, but almost in a manner as if she amused him. Yet at the same time his eyes were on her devouringly, looking at her with a dark lust that made her shrink from him in sheer terror.

She moved away as he followed her, and now she felt her heart beating as panic swept over her because she knew he intended to touch her.

It was then that Richard came into the room.

“Leave my sister alone!” he cried.

Jeffrey Farlow turned his head.

“Oh, it’s you, little whippersnapper. And who are you to give me orders?”

He looked at Richard scornfully and said,

“Go back to bed and mind your own business!”

Then it suddenly dawned on him that Richard was dressed and so was Wivina.

He looked from one to the other, before he said slowly, as if he forced away the fumes of drink to think clearly,

“You’re both up and dressed. Why – so early in the morning?”

Richard did not speak, nor did Wivina.

Then Jeffrey Farlow said,

“So you were thinking to escape me – to try to get away? Well, I’ll make sure you don’t do that. In fact I’ll make sure that you belong to me – and why the hell should we wait for the Mayor, or any other turnip-head, to mutter a lot of words over us?”

Wivina gave a cry of horror and put out her hands to ward him off.

He caught her in his arms and while she struggled frantically she realised that he was very strong and she was completely helpless.

“I’ll bed you now!” he said roughly. “And that’ll settle the matter once and for all!”

Struggling and fighting against him, Wivina felt herself pulled across the room.

Then suddenly Richard, who had been standing uncertain and immobile just inside the door, acted.

He ran to the bed and pulled the pistol from beneath the pillow.

“Leave her alone!” he ordered, pointing it at Jeffrey Farlow.

For a moment the man was still while his arms held Wivina. Then with a swift movement which took the boy by surprise, he turned Wivina round and flung her towards her brother.

She bumped against the pistol and, as she did so, Jeffrey Farlow struck Richard forcibly on the side of his face.

The boy toppled over and fell to the ground beside the bed, the pistol clattering on the bare boards.

“You have hurt him! You have hurt him!” Wivina shrieked.

“He can think himself lucky I’ve not killed him!” Jeffrey Farlow said. “And now I’ll deal with you!”

She was half-sprawling on the floor, and picking her up in his arms, he flung her down on the bed.

Then, as she screamed in sheer terror, there was a sudden bright explosion which shook the whole house.

It seemed to be followed by complete silence.

Then shouts and screams broke out, to be followed by yet another explosion – the vibrating boom of a ship’s gun.

Chapter Seven

Crossing the Channel, Lord Cheriton felt he had never suffered such anxiety and pain as he had endured thinking of Wivina.

He had realised, as soon as he learnt that Jeffrey Farlow had gone to France and that Wivina had disappeared, that he had taken her with him, and he knew they would have gone to Roscoff, where Tom Johnson had a house.

With the quickness and precision that was typical of his Army training, Lord Cheriton went back to the troops clustered round the stables where they were guarding the smugglers who had already been captured.