The Black Benedicts (4 page)

As if instinctively Mallory paused and looked down at him, noting how tall he was, and what an excellent pair of well-held
s
houlders he possessed. His head was very dark and sleek and well-brushed, and shone like ebony in the rays of the swinging lantern. Mallory could also observe that his face was thoughtful, that he was not in the least like his brother, that his chin and jaw were noticeable and ruthless, that his nose was straight but his nostrils probably flared a little
...

And then he looked up. She gasped, for his eyes were looking directly at her, and they were so dark—so dark, and deep, and—and yet there were tiny lights in them, golden lights, like lambent flames, and there was something mocking and— menacing
...
?

She drew back swiftly and the light clicked out, so suddenly that she realized he must have put out a hand and touched a switch which was right beside his elbow. But although she saw him no more she could hear his footsteps moving towards the stairs and she became fairly galvanized into action. She raced along the corridor to her room, and when she reached it she found that she was actually turning the key in the lock and that her fingers were trembling.

Why?

She wasn
’
t at all sure. But what on earth had he thought of her, wandering about the gallery at that hour?

CHAPTER THREE

A
few
mornings later Mallory and Serena took their first walk together in the great park. It was one of those deceptively mild February mornings when spring seems just around the corner, and winter as good as departed. Serena discovered aconites in sheltered places, and Belinda displayed a violent enthusiasm for every rabbit hole she came upon, and it was Mallory
’
s job to extricate her, often with considerable difficulty, when her broad shoulders threatened to become stuck well below the surface of the ground.

Serena, who was as blithe as the morning, ran gaily ahead of Mallory, and the latter thought grimly of the determined tussle she had had with Darcy, the Belgian nursemaid, when the question of taking her out arose. For Darcy had obstinate ideas about her charge, and amongst them was one that attributed a highly susceptible fragility to the lively ten-year-old, and looked upon sunless winter mornings as menacing to her, and exercise— unless undertaken in her own company—a
thing
not to be over-indulged in.

Darcy was dour, and dark, and bad-tempered, and plainly the type to be jealous of a new governess. While it was true that Serena, if she wished, could twist her round her finger, her discipline was sometimes harsh, and her ideas of a routine for the child were strongly at variance with that which Mallory considered the only possible routine, when Serena did not attend school. Darcy was
no believer in fresh air, and she had a weakness for the kitchen and cups of tea with the cook—
e
nlivened by fortune-telling by means of the tea-cups. And if Miss Serena liked that sort of thing, too, then she was the very last person to discourage her.

But Serena, for all her precociousness, was quite a natural nine-year-old, and if there was any delicacy in her make-up it did not prevent her from running like the wind when the fancy took her, and climbing over gates and fences without much thought for her hand-made brogues and finely-pleated skirt.

Serena
’
s clothes were made specially for her in London, and one or two of her finer frocks had been bought in Paris. Her wardrobe had astonished Mallory when she saw it for the first time, whilst waiting for Darcy to get her ready for her outing. She had as many changes as a film-star, and she took the keenest delight in the possession of so much rather unsuitable finery—or Mallory, who had been brought up on the principle of
‘h
and
ing
down
’
to the next comer, could not quite persuade herself that it was suitable. And she wondered just how important a part her obviously much admired Uncle Raife played in the life of
his
niece.

They were turning for home, and Serena was slightly ahead, still looking for wild flowers under every bush and shrub, when Mallory became aware of the man sitting absolutely still on the back of a big, statuesque-looking, black horse, watching them from beneath the brim of a soft felt hat pulled rather well down over his eyes.

Despite the hat Mallory recognized him immediately as the man who had filled her with some moments of completely unreasoning panic a few nights before.

The trees in that part of the park grew like the pillars of a cathedral soaring to the unseen grey of the winter sky. They were mostly beech, with granite-smooth trunks, growing in serried ranks, and they offered but little protection to anyone wishing for some reason to remain unseen while acting the part of an onlooker. And in the case of Raife Benedict, owner of all that goodly timber and many hundreds of acres of fertile land beyond, it mattered little indeed—in fact, not at all!—whether he was seen or not.

His horse was steaming, for he had evidently been riding it hard, and that it was of a nervous temperament was betrayed by its uneasy, dilated nostrils and the eyes which rolled restlessly. Mallory came to an abrupt halt when she caught sight of its rider, and Serena, looking back, gave a sudden, eager shout.

“
Uncle Raife ... Oh, Uncle Raife, is that your new horse?
”

“
Keep away, Infant,
”
he ordered her, as her flying feet took her close to him.
“
My new horse, as you call it, is not in the best of moods.
”

“
Come here, Serena,
”
Mallory called, and the
c
hild returned to her reluctantly.

“
It
’
s as well to begin as you mean to go on,
”
Raife Benedict observed, looking closely at Mallory. With her pale curls escaping from under a blue cape, a blue suede windcheater zipped up to her smooth and shapely throat, warm colour in her cheeks and eyes sparkling after exercise, she still bore a sufficient resemblance to the slight and ghostly young woman who had appeared in the gallery on the night of her arrival, but he gave no slightest sign that he had recognized her, or had even seen her in the gallery.
“
Obedience is a virtue
which can and must be inculcated in the young
,
and with Serena it is doubly important, for she
has
always been inclined to flout authority.
”
Mallory did not reply, and he said coolly:

“
Miss Gower, I presume? My name is Benedict—Raife Benedict!
”

Mallory made a very slight inclination of her
head.

“
Good morning, Mr. Benedict.
”

She realized that although his hands appeared to be lying idly on his! horse
’
s neck they were iron hard, and that it was as much as he could do—and more a matter of an iron-hard will as well—to
maintain
his nervous mount in that immobile attitude while he addressed her smoothly at the same time.

She noticed that his eyes were not as dark as his brother
’
s—not as dark as she had imagined them the other night—and they reminded her a little of rich brown
sherry
overcast by a shadow. The shadow was the shadow of his black, wiry e
y
elashes, unusually long and thick for a man
,
and the queer golden lights she had either seen or imagined were queer greenish flecks in daylight. His mouth was thin and
cl
ose-set and looked as if it
might
sneer easily, and, in fact, his whole expression was slightly repellent. His voice had the chill of ice floes in it without being particularly
hostile.
She had to admit that he had a magnificent seat on a horse, and his figure was both upright and elegant. He wore a pale primrose sweater with a high polo collar beneath a perfectly fitting tweed jacket, and his buff breeches and riding boots were quite faultless.

She noticed also that the horse he bestrode was a really splendid animal, with a touch of the Arab in its svelte lines and snaky head and long undocked tail. As one who loved animals and had been accustomed to horses from her earliest days, she did not in the least approve that tail, but she was very much attracted to the horse itself. She looked at it consideringly.

“
I should advise you, too, not to come any nearer,
”
Raife Benedict said to her rather sharply.
“
Saladin is not a sweet-tempered brute.
”

“
Saladin?
”
she echoed.
“
What a very suitable name!
”

“
Mephistopheles would be even more suitable!
”

As if she had intended to do so from the first, she took an almost unnoticeable step forward, followed by another quiet, gliding movement, and her hand went out and caressed the velvet muzzle of the uncertain-tempered black. Instantly a kind of quiver ran through it, and for an instant the white teeth gleamed, and then it was absolutely still again. Mallory spoke to it in low, soothing, crooning tones.

“
You beauty!—you perfect beauty
...!
”

She looked up and met the blazing eyes above her, and almost she quailed for an instant. Whereas before there had been greenish flecks in the light brown pupils, they were now completely swallowed up by a display of red fireworks, and the thin lips were almost gnashed together.

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
she said quickly,
“
but I
’
m used to horses!
”

“
Used to pomeranians, I should imagine!
”
he returned furiously.
“
You little idiot, haven
’
t you any idea what might have happened to you for your aud
a
city? Even I don
’
t know the potentialities of this beast, and you deserve to have been kicked! Get back—and take that infant back to the house. It
’
s beginning to rain.
”

“
Yes,
”
Mallory said, with deceptive meekness, and turned to retrace her steps.

“
And come and see me in the library at a quarter past two this afternoon,
”
he called after her.
“
I want to talk to you. I
’
m catching a train at three o
’
clock
,
so whatever you do don
’
t be late!
”
Mallory did not answer, but she stooped and scooped up Belinda, who was about to disappear down another rabbit-hole, and then looked round for Serena, who was standing pouting and looking thoroughly displeased. It always annoyed her when her uncle did not condescend to pay very much attention to her.

“
C
ome along, Serena,
”
Mallory called.
“
We
’
ll have to run, or you
’
ll get wet, and Darcy will be cross.
”

“
Bother Darcy!
”
Serena exclaimed petulantly.
“
Uncle Raife,
”
cupping her hands over her mouth and trying to make her voice carry after the now rapidly disappearing horseman,
“
can I ride Shamrock while you
’
re away
?
”

“
No—you—can—not!
”
came back his voice, harsh as a whip-lash.
“
You
’
ll ride nothing at all until I get back!
”

“
Isn
’
t he hateful to-day?
”
Serena said, addressing Mallory, but thrusting out her lower lip farther ever while
s
he gazed after the black horse and its rider who were crashing away down the empty ride.
“
He can be quite detestable sometimes, and after all you only just
touched,
his horse.
”

“
Disobedience is not a virtue,
”
Mallory reminded her, catching her by the arm preparatory to starting to run with her.
“
And I flagrantly disobeyed an order, setting a bad example to you as well, so I think he was probably justifiably angry. Come along!
”

At a quarter past two she knocked on the library door, and was instantly bidden
t
o
enter. Her employer was seated behind a big roll-topped desk and rapidly clearing it of an accumulation of letters, bills, circulars, etc., by the simple process of sweeping them into the various drawers and turning his keys in the locks. He had changed into a dark town suit and was decidedly immaculate as to the collar and cuffs and meticulously tied tie.

“
Ah, Miss Gower!
”
he said, looking up at her, his expression no less grim than in the morning.
“
So you
’
re a good time-keeper, anyway.
”

“
You said a quarter past two,
”
Mallory returned in her smoothest tones,
“
and it is exactly a quarter past two.
”

“
Exactly.
”
He consulted his wat
c
h, and when he looked up at her again she could have sworn that a gleam of ironic humour shone in his strange brown eyes.
“
All the same, there
’
s little enough time to say what I want to say to you, so I
’
d better get started without any delay.
”

He stood up, hands thrust into the pockets of his beautiful creased trousers and started to pace up and down the room. She decided that his movements were graceful and rather pantherish, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed the portrait above the fireplace which was undoubtedly the one mentioned by Serena a few nights earlier. But for the dissimilarity in the styles of dress it would have been difficult to tell the two men apart, and they were both distinguished by the hawk-like look of arrogance and a forbidding determination to have things as much their own way as possible in a world which was very much their world—or, in the case of the Elizabethan gentleman, the world which had once been his!

“
How long have you been a governess, Miss Gower?
”
he suddenly shot at her.

“
For precisely three days,
”
Mallory replied
truthfully.

“
A somewhat limited experience,
”
he remarked, his eyebrows ascending a little.

“
Yes, I suppose it is,
”
Mallory agreed quietly.

His eyes raked her from the crown of her head to the toe of her shoe. There was something quite merciless in that regard, and she realized that beneath it she should have felt uncomfortable, but oddly enough she did not. She did not even feel discomposed. His arrogance aroused in her a feeling of
resentment,
but it did not make her quail. She once read a book called
At the Mercy of Tiberius,
and Tiberius,
she
thought, must have had characteristics in common with this man. At least they both sought to intimidate.

“
And so this is your first job!
”
There was a note like mockery in his voice.
“
Your first job as a governess, anyway. What have you been doing up till now?—or haven
’
t you been do
in
g anything at all? Taking an interest in horses,
perhaps
?”