The Mysterious Maid-Servant (14 page)

“No, of course not. If he proposes to you tonight, which he undoubtedly will, I suggest you say that he should discuss it with me or alternatively, if you prefer, with the Colonel. After all, he is supposed to be your relative.”

“
No
– not the Colonel!” Giselda exclaimed sharply.

“Why did you say it like that?” the Earl asked.

“I do not – wish the Colonel to be concerned in my – private affairs.”

The Earl looked at her searchingly, as if he was not certain that this was the correct explanation before replying,

“Very well, I will speak to Julius. You can make the excuse that you could not marry him unless I gave my permission. He will come to me and I will tell him exactly what I think of him.”

There was a note of satisfaction in the Earl’s voice and after a moment Giselda said hesitatingly,

“I – know Julius has behaved – badly – I know he has taken far too much money from you. Equally I am sure it does you as much – harm as it does him to be – vindictive.”

“Vindictive?” the Earl exclaimed. “Is that what you think I am being?”

“N – no – not exactly. It is just that you are so – strong in every way, and you have so – much.”

“Julius had a great deal too,” the Earl replied. “I assure you I am not grinding down the face of the poor. Julius had a large fortune, which unfortunately he inherited when he was twenty-one on his father’s death.”

He paused before he went on,

“He threw it all away in the space of two years, then spent practically everything his mother owned. Do you call that particularly creditable?”

“No – you are right – it is just that I cannot help feeling – sorry for anyone who is poor.”

The Earl’s face softened.

“I can understand that, Giselda, it is what I would expect you to feel, but do not waste your sympathy on Julius. If you were as wealthy as he thinks you are, he would run through your fortune in a few years and then not hesitate to abandon you while he chased after other women.”

“I wonder if anyone is really all bad?”

“Or all good,” the Earl said cynically, “with the exception, perhaps, of yourself.”

Giselda smiled.

“I wish that was true. I am not good. I often hate people very bitterly.”

“The Duke of Wellington, for instance?”

He saw Giselda’s eyes widen and he realised that, on drawing his bow, he had hit the bulls-eye.

“You do hate him?” he asked slowly. “Is it quite useless for me to ask the reason?”

“Quite – useless.”

“Well, let me tell you one thing. I intend to discover your secrets however cleverly you may hide them and one day, because I am very persistent, I shall succeed, however much you may try to stop me.”

Giselda did not answer. She just looked at him and the Earl saw an expression in her eyes that he could not explain.

It was not only fear, there was something else and while he was still wondering what it could be, the door opened and Colonel Berkeley came into the doom.

“Good morning, Giselda – good morning, Talbot!” he said. “It is delightful to see you up and actually downstairs for breakfast!”

“It is something I am enjoying,” the Earl replied. “You are an early caller, Fitz.”

“I have a great deal to do today,” he answered, “and I have come to ask you to be my guest this evening.”

“Where?” the Earl enquired.

“At the play I am putting on for the Duc d’Orléans. I expect you know that he is in Cheltenham and he has especially asked to see this new production I was telling you about.”

“
The Villain Unmasked?”
the Earl remarked with a smile.

“So you remembered!” the Colonel exclaimed with pleasure.

He pulled up a chair to the table and, as if anticipating his wish, a servant set a large cup in front of him and filled it with coffee.

“It is going to be an entertaining evening with a very distinguished audience,” the Colonel enthused, as he picked up the cup, “and I really think it will amuse you, Talbot. Besides Maria Foote is playing the lead and I want you to see her.”

As the Earl did not reply, the Colonel turned to Giselda.

“He is well enough to enjoy an evening out, is he not, nurse?” he enquired.

He spoke jokingly, but there was an expression in his eyes that made Giselda feel embarrassed and she looked only at the Earl as she replied,

“Mr. Newell is very pleased with his Lordship.”

“Then you must rest this afternoon, Talbot, and come to the theatre at eight o’clock. Afterwards, if you don’t feel too tired, you must have supper with Maria and me. We will not keep you up late and by the way I have already asked Henry Somercote to accompany you.”

“You leave me little alternative but to accept,” the Earl said slowly.

“I want you to see me in this new part,” the Colonel replied. “Although I say it myself, I am extremely good in it!”

He drank some of his coffee and then, as if he had suddenly thought of it, he suggested,

“Another night you must bring Giselda to see me, but not tonight. As you will not wish to climb the stairs, I am putting you in the stage box. It holds three people, but I have to occupy one seat during the course of the play.”

“Why is that?” the Earl enquired.

“Because, as the nobleman who seduces the innocent maiden, I persuade her to take part in the stage in defiance of her father’s wishes who is a Clergyman.”

He laughed.

“It is really rather amusing. The Clergyman spends the First Act declaiming against bloodshed of any sort and in preaching that all Christians must turn the other cheek however much they are insulted. Then at the end of Act Two, to avenge the seduction of his daughter, he shoots the nobleman who was responsible while he sits in the stage box of the theatre!”

“It all sounds very ingenious to me,” the Earl remarked with just a touch of sarcasm in his voice. “Are you responsible for such
‘blood and thunder’
?”

“It was principally written by a young protégé of mine,” the Colonel replied, “but I must admit to having added several twists to the plot that he had not originally considered!”

The Earl laughed.

“The trouble with you, Fitz, is that you will do everything yourself. You want to be the author, the producer, the stage manager, the principal actor, and I am only surprised you don’t also conduct the orchestra!”

“My dear Talbot,” the Colonel answered, “I have learnt in life that, if one wants a thing doing well, one has to do it oneself. Anyway, tonight you will see what I can do. The theatre is packed! Every seat is sold out, so please do not leave the stage box empty. It would stand out like a missing tooth.”

“As my host and since I am extremely grateful to you for bringing me to Cheltenham,” the Earl said, “you make it impossible for me to say anything but thank you.”

“A very pretty speech,” the Colonel said mockingly, “and now, I will leave you and your very attractive nurse to finish your breakfast.”

He rose to his feet.

Then looking at Giselda, he said,

“I am anticipating that one day Giselda will play a part in one of my productions and when that happens you must certainly be in the stage box.”

The Earl looked at him in astonishment, but, before he could say anything, the Colonel had left the room and they heard his voice speaking loudly to one of the servants in the passage outside.

“What the devil did he mean by that?” the Earl enquired.

Giselda looked embarrassed.

“The other night – at the opening of the Assembly Rooms – he suggested that as I had – acted this part so – well, I might like to act for him in the future.”

It was difficult to say the words, especially when she realised that the Earl was looking at her searchingly.

“He said that to you?” he ejaculated. “Why did you not tell me?”

“I-I did not think the Colonel was – serious.”

The Earl’s lips tightened.

“He is usually serious when it concerns his plays and what you are really telling me is that he offered you employment when you should leave mine.”

“Y-yes.”

“Had you any idea that he might have other reasons for asking you to do this?”

There was silence and the Earl fancied that for a moment Giselda did not understand what he meant.

Then the colour rose in her cheeks.

She looked away from him out into the garden.

“You suspected it at any rate,” the Earl said dryly.

“I could not – credit that was – what he meant,” she murmured.

“He will have meant it all right! Let me put this bluntly, Giselda, unless you think it desirable to become one of the Colonel’s many mistresses, I should not listen to such a proposition.”

“No – of course not – I had no intention of doing so!”

“Then why did you not tell me about it?”

There was silence and after a moment the Earl persisted,

“I would like you to answer that question.”

“I thought – you might be – annoyed,” Giselda faltered. “He is – your friend and you are staying in his house.”

“You were thinking of me?”

“Yes – I did not want you – upset or angry – when you were getting so much better in health.”

“Let me make one thing clear, Giselda. You are at the moment in my employment and there is no question of it coming to an end until the problem over Julius is finally and completely settled.”

Giselda did not answer and after a moment he added,

“You had better get ready if you are going to the Pump Room with him. We will discuss your future at a later date.”

“Yes – my Lord – and thank you.”

She rose from the table and, as if she wished to escape from the embarrassing situation, she went hurriedly from the room.

The Earl threw his table napkin down angrily on the table as if the mere action gave him some relief from the feelings inside him. Then he walked out into the garden, moving slowly over the green lawn.

There was the usual crowd at the Pump Room and there had been so many people walking along the tree lined walk towards it that Giselda realised with a sense of relief that it was impossible for Julius to say anything intimate.

She had felt ever since breakfast as if her breathing was constricted and there was something hard and uncomfortable within her breasts.

She could not bear to think that the Earl should imagine for one moment that she had seriously considered the Colonel’s invitation.

Yet it had been impossible to tell him so or to put into words how shocked and indeed disgusted she had been by his suggestions.

All she could think of now was that the Earl was angry with her and she felt encompassed by a fog rather than the sunshine.

Every word that she had to say to Julius was an effort because it brought her thoughts away from the Earl and then back to him.

*

The Montpellier Pump Room was not impressive. It was a long unpretentious building with wooden pillars, a veranda and a small structure over the centre for an orchestra.

This was filled with a number of players who provided soft music while the drinkers approached the Pump and having received their glasses of water stood about gossiping while they drank it.

Julius fetched Giselda a glass and, as he gave it into her hand, he said in a low voice,

“You look so lovely, Mrs. Barrowfield, that no one would believe for a moment that you needed medicinal waters.”

Because she felt shy at the note in his voice, Giselda said quickly,

“It seems strange to think that all these people should be here just because of some pigeons.”

“Pigeons?” Julius enquired in surprise.

“Have you not heard the legend?” Giselda asked. “The properties of the well were discovered about a hundred years ago when it was noticed that the pigeons flocked to peck at the deposits of salt here.”

Julius did not look particularly interested, but because Giselda wished to keep talking she added,

“It was found that the water was rich in natural salts and the people of Cheltenham, realising, that other Spas like Bath and Tonbridge were flourishing, saw to it that rumours of their waters were soon spread.”

“It has certainly brought the town a great deal of money,” Julius remarked.

His tone was envious and Giselda thought with a little sigh that it was difficult for him to think of anything else but his financial burdens.

Because she was afraid that he might become intimate, she looked around and, seeing a distinguished looking man with a small imperial beard and a large pointed moustache, she asked

“Is that the Duc d’Orléans?”

Julius looked in the direction of her eyes and nodded.

“Yes, it is.”

“I heard he was here. He is going to the theatre tonight to see the Colonel’s play.”

“How do you know that?” Julius enquired.

“The Colonel arrived while we were at breakfast,” Giselda explained, “and invited his Lordship to sit in the stage box with Captain Somercote.”

She smiled before she continued,

“It will be rather exciting for them because they will be almost part of the play. The Colonel joins them at the end of the Second Act and is shot by one of the actors on the stage.”

“You cannot go with them – you are dining with me,” Julius said almost fiercely.

“Yes, of course. I have not forgotten that and actually the Colonel did not include me in his invitation. There would not be room for me in the stage box.”

“Even if he had done so, I should have held you to your promise.”

“Which I would not have broken.”

She saw the gladness in Julius’s face and thought she was not mistaken in thinking that, even if he was going to ask her to marry him for her money, he also had a slight, even if it was very slight, affection for her.

She was just about to hand him her glass saying she had finished her water, which she was quite convinced was nastier every time she drank it, when unexpectedly there was a woman standing beside Julius.

“I want to speak to you, Mr. Lynd.”

The woman spoke abruptly, but there was something in the tone of her voice that commanded attention and Julius, turning to face her, gave a noticeable start.

“I want to tell you,” the woman went on, “that I am leaving Cheltenham this afternoon.”