The Wild Seed (53 page)

An idea struck her, if Craig was out then he would have taken Brutus, the one horse they had kept when the stable had been sold. She hurried through the house and out to where the darkness of the stables loomed like shadows against the paler darkness of the sky.

She swung the stable door open and tasted the silence. There was no soft breathing of the sleeping animal to greet her, no restless hooves moving the straw. Brutus was gone.

Suddenly she was terrified, something had happened, otherwise Craig would not ride out into the darkness. She ran back into the house and began to systematically search the rooms.

The workshop was dark and empty as she had expected and so was Craig’s study. She hesitated at the foot of the stairs and then, head up, nerve ends tingling, she sensed that someone was in the sitting-room. Perhaps it was Craig after all, perhaps he had fallen asleep and had not heard her calling. Somehow she did not believe it.

As the door swung open, Hari made a small sound of surprise. Bethan Hopkins was sitting in a chair, leaning back comfortably as though she owned the place.

‘I do own the place.’ It was as though she was a witch and could read Hari’s thoughts. ‘At least for the time being; I am your new tenant.’

‘Where is my husband?’ Hari looked at the face of the woman who had done her so much harm, it was bland, ordinary, except for the burning light in the heavily lidded eyes.

‘Summer Lodge is quite comfortable. I do not need it, of course, but it pleases me to take from you what you love most.’ She paused for effect. ‘Talking of what you love most, I think your husband might have …’ she glanced up at the clock, maddening in her slowness, ‘your husband might have met with some kind of accident. That horse, Brutus, he seemed like a devil to me, a creature with a most uncertain temper.’

Hari’s mouth was dry. ‘What have you done?’

Bethan smiled radiantly, as if she was a woman made happy by a skilful lover. ‘I have punished you, Hari Grenfell, as I will punish all who oppose me.’

‘You’re mad!’ Hari moved forward, incensed by the smugness in Bethan’s face. The woman was taller than she, bigger boned, but fear and anger lent Hari strength. She hurled herself forward and as Bethan rose to face her, Hari bore her to the floor, her hands around the woman’s throat. ‘Tell me!’ She shook hard and Bethan’s head hit the carpet several times. ‘Tell me what you have done with my husband before I kill you!’

Hari saw naked fear in the eyes that stared up at her and power surged through her; so Bethan Hopkins was not invincible after all.

‘Elizabeth!’ Bethan croaked the name. ‘Help me, lend me your strength.’

Who was she talking to? Before the question had formed properly in Hari’s mind, Bethan had jerked forward and then her hands were reaching out, claw-like, to fasten over Hari’s nose and mouth, shutting off her air supply.

Hari fell back gasping, the room whirling in darkness as the hands held mercilessly until she thought her lungs were going to burst. She forced herself to relax, the only way out of this was to pretend she had lost consciousness. The hands held on for what seemed an eternity and then suddenly she was released.

Dimly she recognized the sound of running footsteps, she dragged air into her tortured lungs as she heard the crunch of carriage wheels and the drumming of horses’ hooves. The sounds rocketed in her head, exploding in a whirl of noise and darkness.

She must have lost consciousness for a moment, in spite of her efforts, for when she opened her eyes and felt her face pressed against the deepness of the carpet, she knew that she was alone, the danger was past, Bethan Hopkins had gone.

She struggled to her feet and swayed for a moment, nausea and pain making her want to retch. She sank into a chair and put her head in her hands, trying to steady her senses. ‘Think,’ she told herself, she must think carefully over the words Bethan Hopkins had spoken so softly, so vindictively.

The woman had talked of the horse, Brutus, his ill temper. She had talked of punishment, she had said she would take away all that Hari loved most. A coldness pressed over her; Craig, where was he? What had Bethan Hopkins done to him?

She looked into the fire, it was dying low in the grate but it was alight. It was doubtful Bethan Hopkins would have put on more coals, no, that would have been Craig’s doing, so that meant he had not been out more than an hour.

Where had he gone, how had Bethan lured him out of the house when he would be waiting for Hari’s return? She bit her lip. Bethan must have staged the robbery on the roadway, she would have let Craig know in her clever devious way that Hari was hurt, the victim of criminals. Craig would have mounted the horse without even pausing to saddle the animal. A trip wire across the roadway would unseat any rider, let alone one without saddle and stirrups.

Uncertainly, Hari rose to her feet, she felt sick and ill, she thought of the long dark road that led into town and wondered at the best spot for such a trap to be laid. The possibilities were endless.

She moved to the door, forgetting her pain and weariness, she would find Craig if it took her all night.

‘Where on earth have you been, don’t you realize how late it is?’ Boyo looked closer at his wife, Bethan was white-faced, there were marks on her throat. ‘Good God! What’s happened to you?’

He led her to a chair, she was trembling and he felt pity well within him. He had never given her much of himself but at least he could offer her comfort and support. ‘Who the hell attacked you? I’ll kill him with my bare hands.’

‘It was dark, I couldn’t see. Don’t worry, Boyo, I’m all right, just a bit shaken, that’s all.’

‘I think you should go to bed,’ Boyo said softly. ‘I’ll get one of the servants to bring you a hot drink. In the morning, we’ll have the doctor to see you.’

‘Will you stay in my room with me tonight, Boyo?’ Bethan looked at him pleadingly. ‘Just hold me in case I have nightmares.’ She rubbed at the bruises on her throat and he cursed the ever-present sense of guilt that Bethan aroused in him.

‘All right, in the morning, it might be a good idea to notify the police. It’s not good enough when a respectable woman can’t ride out alone without being attacked by some cheap footpad or other.’

He took Bethan upstairs and helped her to undress. Her body was pale but with an unhealthily yellow tinge. He could not help but see the contrast between Bethan’s paleness and the delicate alabaster of Catherine’s young skin. He hid his thought by lowering his head and drawing back the sheets.

‘Come on, get your nightgown on and then I’ll fetch you something to soothe you.’

He tucked his wife into bed and she held out her hand and drew him down beside her. ‘Boyo, I’m still trembling, I am so afraid. The attack was somehow personal, as though someone set out to kill me.’

‘Nonsense!’ Boyo forced himself to be cheerful, he hated the way Bethan was clinging to him. What had happened to her spirit? Had Bethan’s own poison destroyed her?

‘Hold me close, Boyo, I feel so vulnerable, so alone. Especially now that I’m pregnant.’ She could see he did not believe her and smiled secretly as he stretched out beside her.

‘Don’t talk now, you are overwrought, nervous, a good sleep will clear your mind.’

She curled towards him, her hair, sweet smelling and soft, brushed his cheek and he closed his eyes in pain; if only it could have been Catherine in his arms instead of Bethan.

As she always did, she guessed what he was thinking. ‘You’ll forget her, you’ll see; soon that woman will be out of our lives, gone away for good.’

He was suddenly tense and he was too worried to conceal it. ‘What do you mean, Bethan? What do you know that I don’t know?’ Maddeningly, she did not reply, she closed her eyes and feigned sleep and Boyo resisted the temptation to pull away from her, shake her eyes open and demand to know what she meant by her words. She was deranged, she was a dangerous woman, she would stop at nothing to get revenge, perhaps even murder.

He had an overwhelming need to see Catherine, to prove to himself that she was all right. He waited until he was sure Bethan was asleep and then he rose and left the bedroom and made his way downstairs.

Bethan knew he had gone and she knew where. She sat up in bed, frowning, so he was not keeping his side of the bargain, he was betraying her once again, how could he be so stupid? That Boyo had failed to make love to her hurt unbearably, the thought of his reluctance to take her in his arms was like a thorn in her flesh. She had given him time, a great deal too much time, and too many chances to make amends. He had failed. How could she teach him that his best interests lay with her and her alone?

‘I am angry with him, Elizabeth,’ she said softly into the darkness. ‘He has disappointed me yet again. All I find around me is hostility and betrayal. There is not one living person in this world who cares if I live or die. I am better off alone.’

She rose and drew on her warm robe. It was cold in the room with the pale moonlight silvering the furnishings but then it was always cold at Ty Craig, day or night, winter or summer, the temperature remained the same.

In the drawing-room, she took the decanter of port and poured a liberal measure. She thought of calling the maid to rebuild the fire but felt she could not stand Cara’s pale, frightened face and her subservient manner. No, much better to be alone, not quite alone though, she would have Elizabeth, she would always have Elizabeth.

As though called from beyond the grave, the figure of Bethan’s ancestor appeared in the room, but of course she was more than an ancestor. Elizabeth and Bethan were one, an incarnation of the same spirit that had gone down through the generations and would continue to be passed down when Bethan produced a child; a girl to carry on the work entrusted to the Llewellyns, the work of righting the wrongs in a wicked world.

Faintly at first and then growing in density, Elizabeth came to her, until a whole, vivid person stood in the room. Her dark hair was lustrous, her eyes deep with hidden secrets that only those who had passed through the barrier could know.

‘Elizabeth, I’m glad you’ve come but then you always come when I need you.’

Bethan drank more port and she felt a little warmer. ‘He’s gone after that bitch, thinks I’ve murdered her or something. Murder, don’t you think, might be a good idea? I’ve done it once so why not again?

‘Oh, yes, Elizabeth, you did not think me so clever, did you?’ Bethan took a seat and curled her feet under her. ‘I have lured the husband of that awful woman, Hari Grenfell, into a trap. It was so easy, just a word from me that I had seen the bitch involved in a scuffle over on the other side of the woods. What? How will he die?’ Bethan tapped her nose. ‘You should know me as you know yourself, Elizabeth, we are from the same mould you and I. So what did I plan for him? I’ll tell you, all in good time.’

She took a sip of her drink, triumph growing inside her at her own cleverness. ‘I knew that fool Grenfell would ride hell for leather to save his precious little wife so I put a man in the woods, armed him with a gun. He has instructions to loose a shot, just as horse and rider reach the craggy rocks at the top of Rosehill, which will frighten the creature into bolting right over the edge and into the precipice below.’

Bethan felt a little giddy, no doubt the port was having an effect on her. Nevertheless she poured another full measure. ‘Now I have to deal with the cause of all my trouble: Catherine O’Conner. I must get rid of her, I cannot let her get away with what she’s done to me.

‘Yes, you are right,’ she nodded her head, ‘she deserves to die, the whore. She tried to take the man I love, my husband, she made him betray me, humiliate me, it is she who has made me so unhappy.’

Bethan began to cry. ‘I know, Elizabeth, he is not worthy of all the chances I gave him but I loved him, you see. I think I still do love him. Perhaps with her out of the way, he’ll come back to me. It’s worth a try isn’t it, Elizabeth? When it is all over, we can live in peace, you and me and Boyo and our daughter.’

Bethan rose to her feet. ‘You are right, I will go after him, the carriage is still outside. I will ride like the wind. You see, everything is working out for me. I’ll fetch my husband back, convince him that his future is with me. I will deal with that woman, I will finish her, she will be no more.’

As Bethan left the house, she felt, for the first time, a sense of peace; justice was about to be done.’

‘I don’t know why you came here.’ Catherine stood as far away from Boyo as she could. ‘I am perfectly all right, as you can see.’

Boyo rubbed his eyes. ‘I don’t know what has come over me; it may be the atmosphere of that place getting me down but I feel, I
know
, that Bethan is up to something, something incredibly evil.’ He rubbed his hand through his hair. ‘Perhaps I
am
allowing my imagination to run away with me, I just don’t know what to think any more.’

‘Boyo, all this has nothing to do with me. You made your choice, you went back to your wife, so at least do the decent thing by all of us and be faithful to her, show her some loyalty.’ She sank down into a chair. Suddenly she was pale, her mouth was trembling.

‘Catherine, I had no choice but to go back to her,’ Boyo said. ‘Bethan promised to leave you alone providing we were reconciled. I thought I was protecting you by staying away. Now, I’m not so sure.’

‘I realize that Bethan is a strange woman but even she would be afraid of going so far as to physically harm anyone.’

‘I’m not so sure, Catherine, she’s lost all sense of reality, she talks to herself and she seems to see things other people do not. She even believes she is pregnant again. Sometimes I’m afraid of my own wife.’

Catherine looked at Boyo, her mouth dry. ‘Did you really go back to her for my sake, feeling as you do about her?’

‘Catherine, I love you, God help me I’ll always love you.’ Boyo’s hands were on her shoulders, drawing her to her feet, turning her to face him. She leaned against him.

‘It’s finished. This charade I’ve been playing can’t go on.’ Boyo’s voice was firm. ‘I must divorce Bethan, I must get out before she drives me as mad as she is.’