The Castle of Love (6 page)

Jacina blushed at her mistake. She described the painting. The woman had huge eyes and raven tresses. She wore a magenta gown and a diamond necklace glittered around her white neck.

The Earl nodded. "Ah, yes. That is my grandmother. Her private chambers occupied this part of the castle. After she died my grandfather could not bear to come here and had it all closed up. But yesterday I ordered it reopened."

Jacina sighed as she gazed at the painting. "She is so

– so lovely. Her dress is such a beautiful colour. And the necklace – "

 The Earl looked thoughtful. "Would you like to see that necklace?" he asked.

Jacina's eyes grew wide. "You – still have it, my Lord?"

The Earl laughed. "It is a family heirloom. Come with me, Jacina."

Such was his memory of the castle's layout, that it was with no difficulty he led Jacina to the end of the gallery and thence into a corridor that ran to the North-East tower.

As if by instinct he stopped outside a door that opened from the corridor into a large and opulent room. The walls of the room were hung with yellow silk. The four poster bed was of carved oak. The mirrors on the walls were framed in gold. A walnut dressing table stood by the window.

The Earl let his fingers roam over the dressing table until they found a blue leather jewellery case. He opened it and Jacina gasped.

There, on a purple velvet cloth, lay the necklace she had seen in the painting.

"Try it on," suggested the Earl.

With trembling hands Jacina draped the necklace around her neck and fastened the clasp. She stood back and gazed at her reflection in the dressing table mirror.

"How do they look?" asked the Earl.

"They – they dazzle – " she replied in a low voice.

She wished that the Earl could see her. She looked very becoming in the necklace.

The Earl sighed behind her. "It is family tradition that they are handed on through each generation to the eldest son's bride" he said.

Jacina understood in a flash. This part of the castle had been re-opened for Felice. This room was being prepared for Felice. And this necklace, this string of diamonds and rubies that dazzled her in the mirror, was also for Felice.

 With trembling fingers, Jacina tore it from her neck and threw it into the box.

"Please – I wish to – return to my room now, my Lord," she stuttered.

The Earl had heard the sound of the necklace dropped rudely into the box and was puzzled.

"What is the matter?" he asked gently.

"N-nothing. I – do not feel well, suddenly. That is all."

The Earl hesitated and then gave a small bow. "As you wish," he said.

In her room Jacina threw herself into a chair by the fire and stared miserably into the flames.

The more time she spent with the Earl, the more she resented the mere idea of Felice Delisle. Yet she knew this was unjust. It was not the fault of Felice that she had accepted the Earl's proposal. Felice had already suffered so much in her life, why should she not grasp at any opportunity of being happy?

The wind rattled the windows and sent smoke back down the chimney. Jacina drew her legs up under her and rested her chin on her knees. She reminded herself sternly that the Earl needed her. He enjoyed her company. She must be content with that for as long as it lasted and no more.

The following morning her mood had improved and so had the weather. By noon the sun had so warmed the air, that the Earl suggested Jacina read to him out of doors.

They sat on a wrought iron bench placed in the shade of the castle wall. The Earl asked Jacina to read some poetry.

The sun was warm on Jacina's face. She turned the pages and read in a dreamy voice.

 Suddenly the Earl raised his head.

"What was that?" he asked.

"My Lord?"

"I heard the sound of coach wheels."

Jacina listened. Now she heard it too. A moment later a coach swept out of the line of trees on the other side of the moat and clattered over the stone bridge.

The Earl rose to his feet as the coach drew up at the castle steps.

Jacina also rose, her heart full of foreboding.

A footman hurried out of the castle to open the coach door. First a gentleman in a cloak stepped out. He threw a sharp glance round him before turning to help out a second traveller.

This was a tall woman in a scarlet jacket. A veil was drawn down over her features, but Jacina had no doubt who it was.

Felice Delisle!

The bride-to-be had finally arrived at Castle Ruven.

Jacina knew that her idyll was over.

 Felice Delisle raised her veil and her eyes fell at once on Jacina. Her gaze was so cool and appraising that Jacina stepped back in surprise. She would never have guessed from this expression that here was a young woman about to meet her husband to be for the very first time.

She had to admit though that Felice was very handsome. Her auburn hair was arranged in the very latest fashion. Her eyes were large and the colour of amber. Her heart shaped face was fuller than Jacina had imagined, but then Felice was no longer the girl of sixteen with whom Crispian Ruven had fallen in love. She was now an elegant young woman of twenty-one.

Felice turned her cool gaze from Jacina to the Earl.

"You are Hugo, I think!" she said in a low voice.

The Earl bowed and Felice extended her hand. The Earl seemed to sense her gesture. With barely a falter he took her hand and lifted it to his lips.

"Welcome to Castle Ruven," he said, in a most solicitous tone. "I hope your journey was not too tiring."

"It was terible, zis journey," said Felice with a shrug. "But anyhow, we are arrived." She gestured toward her travelling companion, seemingly unconcerned that the Earl could not register such a gesture. " Zis is my – how do you say it in England? – lawyer, yes? Monsieur Fronard."

"At your service," said Monsieur Fronard with a bow. He had a long, sharp face and a piercing gaze.

 Felice's eyes flicked back to Jacina. "And who is zis person?" she asked.

"I am Jacina Carlton, madame," said Jacina, curtsying.

The Earl smiled. "Ah, yes. Miss Carlton is my little helper."

"Zat's nice," said Felice. "And in what does she help you?"

"Mostly Miss Carlton reads to me, madame."

"Oh," said Felice with a toss of her head. "Reading!" She said nothing more but took the Earl's arm. The two of them started up the stone stairway to the castle entrance.

Jacina followed. Monsieur Fronard fell quickly into step beside her.

"You are an old friend of the Earl, no?" he asked her.

"My father has been the family doctor for many years," replied Jacina.

"Ah, je comprends," said Monsieur Fronard.

Quite what Monsieur Fronard 'understood' from her simple remark Jacina could not tell.

Over the next few days the atmosphere in the castle began to change. It no longer seemed so peaceful or indeed so sleepy. There was a great more scurrying to and fro in response to the imperious demands of the Earl's fiancée.

Her handkerchiefs must be pressed just so. The fire in her room must be always lit. She must have hot water brought for a bath twice a day. Two maids must scrub her back and help her into her clothes. She must have champagne brought to her mid-morning.

She seemed determined to forget the privations she had once endured as the daughter of a penniless count and as a pupil in a strict teaching establishment. Day and night her gay laughter resounded through the castle and it was generally observed that the Earl must indeed be enchanted with her.

 Monsieur Fronard meanwhile set everybody's teeth on edge. He seemed to skulk about the place. The maids kept coming across him in out of the way places.

"I reckon he's counting the china, Miss Jacina," said Nancy indignantly one morning.

Jacina looked up from her bowl of porridge. She no longer took breakfast in her room, as she felt the maids had enough to do with running around after Felice.

"And I wish he hadn't been given Master Crispian's old room," Nancy continued. "It don't seem right, somehow. One morning I went in with clean linen and she was in there with him. They were burning letters in the grate. I was sure they were all the letters she wrote Master Crispian. He'd kept them in a box on his desk. Sure enough, when I looked in the box later, it was empty."

"She wants to make a fresh start," said cook stoutly, "and who can blame her?"

Nancy sniffed. "Well, I think she's heartless. And what's more, she's too fancy. Ordering all that French stuff from Fortnum's in London like – like truffles and – and caviar."

"She has sophisticated tastes, that's all." said cook, "which his Lordship is only too happy to indulge. So what business is it of ours?"

Jacina listened with bowed head.

She had noticed that the Earl did indeed indulge every whim his fiancée expressed. He was courtesy itself with Felice.

Was Jacina the only one who felt Felice was less than courteous in return? She seemed almost impatient with the Earl's blindness. Walking through the corridors and galleries of the castle with him, she rarely allowed him to lean on her arm. She would move swiftly ahead to look at something and then wait, tapping her foot or sighing.

 At supper she sat next to the Earl, but never helped him if he happened to drop his napkin or misplace his glass. She always waited for one of the serving maids to come forward to retrieve the napkin from the floor or place his glass within his reach.

She was happy enough to drive out with the Earl and visit the local gentry, but she would never accompany him on his walks in the garden. Her excuse was that she did not like to walk in the countryside where there were no shops to look at or other people to meet. Jacina wondered that she did not find the Earl's company sufficient.

At table Felice sat between the Earl and Monsieur Fronard. Jacina noticed how Felice's head was turned most often toward Fronard.

The Earl sat quietly by, listening to their conversation, which was in French. Sometimes he made a remark and Felice would turn quickly to him. She would laugh brightly, take up his hand and press it to her cheek. Then just as quickly, she would turn back to Fronard.

Jacina wondered why Felice did not make more effort to talk with her fiancé. After all, they had so much ground to make up. It was true that Felice and her lawyer had a language in common. Yet the Earl spoke French and Felice had a good enough grasp of English for them to be able to communicate easily.

When Jacina thought about it, the person she saw most often with Felice was Fronard. Even if the Earl happened to be present, the two of them would often be tucked away in some corner, heads together. Jacina often came upon them side by side in the corridors of the castle, looking at the portraits or the china in the cabinets. She began to form the distinct impression they were discussing the value of everything they looked at.

 She wanted to like Felice, for the sake of the Earl. She tried to make friends with her, but Felice had decided that Jacina was merely another employee and rarely addressed her.

As if in deference to the sensibilities of his fiancée, the Earl in public adopted a more formal manner with Jacina. This would have made her unutterably miserable were it not for the fact that during their mornings together, he continued to treat her in the old manner.

She was relieved that in this respect everything went on as before. Jacina read or played the pianoforte. She and the Earl talked about poetry and music. They sometimes strolled in the garden.

They never discussed Felice or the forthcoming wedding.

One day, walking on the woodland path with the Earl's arm resting on Jacina's, they happened to encounter Monsieur Fronard. He greeted them politely but his eyes narrowed as they passed on.

The following morning when Jacina entered the library, she was startled to find Felice seated opposite the Earl at the fire.

"I hope you are not objecting," cried Felice gaily to Jacina, "but I am thinking my English will improve if I am listening to you."

"I am sure Jacina does not object," said the Earl. The tone of his voice was neutral.

"Of course not," said Jacina as brightly as she could.

She hesitated, looking around. Then she went and sat in the window seat. She opened the book that the Earl had chosen for that day and began to read.

After about five minutes she heard Felice yawn loudly.

The Earl leaned forward. "You are tired, my dear?"

 "Oh no," laughed Felice. "But zis book is not interesting to me."

Jacina closed the book quietly.

"Perhaps something else?" she suggested. "There must be something. I know you love books."

Felice threw her a sharp glance.

"Books? Oh, yes. I am always reading. But zis book you have is not in my language, so it is difficult. And besides, history – " she shrugged. 'I prefer – love stories. Tragic love stories – "

Words tumbled out of Jacina before she could stop herself.

"I am surprised that you like such reading matter when you yourself have experienced – "

"Jacina!" said the Earl sharply.

Jacina's hand flew to her mouth. "My Lord, I wasn't thinking – "

"No," said the Earl, a thunderous look on his face. "You most certainly were not."

Unable to speak, Jacina stumbled to her feet and fled from the room.

What had possessed her to make such a remark? If Felice enjoyed reading novels they could only remind her of the sad loss she had endured, well then – it was no business of Jacina's to comment.

But the Earl had not been fair. He really had not. It was rude of Felice to yawn loudly! And what had the Earl done when he heard it? Nothing! Nothing but express concern that she might be tired!

It was clear that he was falling more and more deeply under Felice's spell. Jacina sank on to a seat in the Great Hall and covered her face with her hands. Why should a man not fall under the spell of the woman who was to be his wife? It was only natural. She had no right to feel like this, no right at all.

 Tears pricked her eyelids. She so wished her father would return and take her away from the castle, but she knew that was impossible at the moment.