With All My Worldly Goods (21 page)

Leonora felt that this was extremely unfair, but it scarcely seemed the moment to defend Martin’s intelligence.

“As far as I remember, I simply left him where he was, without any further thought of my duties as a host, and went in search of Millicent I found her alone and accused her—”

“Bruce!” Leonora looked horrified. “But how terrible of you. You had no proof, and it was a frightful thing to say if you were wrong.”

“I knew I was right,” Bruce said unanswerably.

“And what happened?” Her eyes opened rather wide with a sort of fearful curiosity.

“She admitted it in under three minutes,” was the laconic reply.

“She
admitted
it!—Bruce don’t look like that. You frighten me.” She put up her hand against his cheek, and his expression softened at once.

“There is no need for
you
to be frightened.”

“I was thinking of how frightened Millicent must have been,” Leonora said, a little ashamedly.

“Oh—” Bruce gave that hard laugh of his. “Yes, she was frightened. I could willingly have strangled her, and she knew it. But, instead, I forced her to promise to get out of England and stay out. She could invent what excuse she liked to Agatha—go on a cruise to begin with, and then make some other arrangements, but she was to go within a fortnight. Otherwise I would see that she was charged with attempted murder, however little any of us would like the scandal, and however upset Agatha would be.”

“And she agreed?”

“She had no choice, Lora. But that was why I wanted to get you away at once. Somewhere—anywhere completely safe, until she was out of the country. And that was why I didn’t want even Agatha to know. She would have been bound to tell Millicent, and if you had seen how Millicent looked when she realized she had lost—”

Bruce broke off.

“How, dear? What is the matter?” Leonora stroked his arm gently.

He caught her hand and pressed it close against his arm.

“Nothing. Never mind now. But it’s utterly unnerving to see murder look out of such quiet eyes as Millicent’s.”

“Oh.” Leonora shuddered a little in her turn. “But never mind, you got me away safely.”

“Yes. I didn’t dare to hope that I could persuade you to come without giving any excuse. It must have seemed so extraordinary to you.”

“It did.” Leonora drew close again. “I—I was terribly frightened. But—I thought that if I could get you away, and make you realize how—how much I loved you, it
must
bring out the good side of you. And that if I could make myself show really perfect trust in you, then you could never do what—what I thought you meant to do. I know it sounds so ridiculous now, but I thought—I thought there was a sort of struggle between good and bad going on, and that this was the only way to—save you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Please don’t think me a perfect fool.”

“Think you—what, my child?” He spoke very quietly, too. “Do you mean that you came away with me—believing
that
—when everything I said and did must have seemed added proof? I hadn’t realized—You thought it was an even chance that I might kill you while we were alone down here together?”

“Well, I—had to take the risk of that.”

There was absolute silence. Then he said very unsteadily:

“You mean you found the courage to walk right up to Death alone, because you had some idea you might save my miserable soul?”

“Well—”

“Oh God, darling! What have I ever done in all my life to deserve you?”

He bent his head to kiss her, and she felt how very unsteady his lips were against hers.

“I loved you, you see,” she whispered at last.

“Yes, I see,” he said very gently. “I do see. That is what loving means to you. It’s quite simple. Life and death are very small things beside it. It’s the kind of love that makes one believe in God.”

She didn’t say anything. She just lay there against him, perfectly still and perfectly happy. Heaven might hold something more beautiful than these moments, but she didn’t really see how it could.

There seemed scarcely anything else left to say. And then, after a while, she explained, a little diffidently, about Martin. But even that was powerless to anger Bruce now.

“What do you want me to do, dearest?” he asked gently. “Come with you tomorrow and explain as much or as little as is necessary to convince him?”

“Do you mind?” she asked rather timidly.

“Mind? No, I don’t mind anything in the world now. How could I? And anyway, Millicent left England yesterday, so there is no objection to your going up and down to London as much as you like.”

“She has left? Already!”

“Why, yes. You don’t suppose I should have let you go wandering up to London on the strength of a mysterious letter, otherwise, do you?”

Leonora blushed and looked confused.

“I felt
terrible
about deceiving you, Bruce—”

“And so you should.” He smiled into her eyes.

“—But it was the only way.”

“Was it?”

“Well,
wasn’t
it?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t care. I am content to abide by whatever you decide in future.” He spoke more than half seriously.

“Oh—that’s rather too much responsibility,” Leonora said soberly. But he laughed and told her he had never seen any one better able to shoulder responsibility.

It was really very simple the next day, after all. Much, much simpler than Leonora had ever dared to imagine. For one thing, Bruce’s air towards Martin was so utterly disarming.

She had expected that at least he would be sarcastic and anxious to discomfit Martin, but there was no suggestion of that. In fact, when explanations had at last been made in full, Bruce said:

“It seems to me that you have done more towards looking after Lora than I have and, believe me, I’m very grateful. If it hadn’t been for you, we should not have known what was happening until much too late.”

“Thanks. It’s good of you to say so.” Martin could not altogether extend to Bruce his full trust and friendship yet, and his tone was just a little formal.

“But it’s the truth, Martin dear,” Leonora said eagerly, and received a rueful, boyish grin, which showed her better than anything else that Martin was emerging at last from the shadows of the last few weeks.

“Well, it’s nice to hear the voice of approval again, Lora,” he said rather teasingly. Then, turning to Bruce: “And, really, I do apologize most sincerely for the suspicions I had. But, you will admit, things did look pretty rotten against you.”

“My dear fellow, you’d have been a perfect fool to think of anything but what you did,” Bruce assured him. “And considering that you scarcely knew of the existence of the real culprit, I don’t see how you could have identified her.”

“No. That’s true,” Leonora exclaimed eagerly. “It was I who really ruled out Millicent from the very beginning, because she was not in the house all the time.”

“And now she really has gone?” Martin asked anxiously.

“Oh yes, she’s gone all right. I saw to that,” Bruce said grimly. “I’m afraid my sister will be very sorry when she realizes that Millicent intends to live abroad in future, but at least she has been spared the shock of knowing that her friend was attempting murder.”

“And do you intend to live in London again now, or has the country retreat too many charms?” Martin smiled at Leonora.

“Well—” Leonora looked at Bruce.

“It is for you to answer that,” her husband said, and smiled in his turn.

“I think, Martin, we shall spend most of our time at the cottage, during the summer at any rate, but we shall come into London sometimes, of course.”

“Very well,” Martin said, as they rose to go. “Don’t forget to look up your private police officer some time when you are here.”

“I won’t,” she promised earnestly. And then they all three laughed a little, because it was such a relief to find that the whole awful business was beginning to have its humorous side.

“He’s not a bad fellow,” Bruce admitted, when they were in the car again and driving homewards.

“Martin? He’s very nice indeed,” Leonora insisted.

“Is he eating his heart out for you still?” There was rather more curiosity than sympathy in Bruce’s tone but perhaps that was only natural.

Leonora smiled thoughtfully before she replied.

“Well, no. To be perfectly honest, I think being forced into seeing me in the light of a perfect little fool, as he thought, did something towards reducing the glamour. I should describe Martin now as a healthy convalescent, about to sit up soon and take notice—of someone else.”

Bruce laughed.

“We’ll hope so,” he said tolerantly. “I find myself able to wish him very well, now that I have you safe, and he no longer wants my blood.”

“Poor dear Martin. I’m really glad to have
his
weight of anxiety removed, apart from anything else. He has been so terribly worried and unhappy. I expect he’ll look quite his old, carefree self by the time I see him again.”

But, actually, it was nearer three months than two before Leonora saw Martin again. For Bruce and she were so entirely happy in their country retreat that there seemed no reason at all for their going anywhere else.

To Leonora it sometimes seemed impossible that the gay, tender man who was her husband, had really once been the grim, unwanted guardian. And if it were indeed true that he never loved anyone until he saw her, it was also true that the wealth of love he had for her was the most perfect and wonderful thing in her life.

She could love him “extravagantly”, to use Aunt Sophie’s term of long ago, confident that the same boundless devotion was hers in return.

It was not until Agatha came home from her long Scottish visit that they decided to return to London for a short while.

Agatha still thought—and, when she saw them, spoke—a good deal about Millicent’s inexplicable desire to live abroad. But, though they gravely expressed regret to her, they kept their own counsel and secretly hoped that after a while Agatha would get over the loss.

And then, when they had been home about a week, Martin rang up and asked Leonora to meet him.

“I’d love to, Martin,” Leonora told him, with nothing less than the truth. “It will be lovely to be able to talk once more without frowning at each other at every second sentence.”

He laughed at that, and she knew then that to him, too, the past was losing some if its grimness.

When they did meet, it was quite easy to talk with all the old natural friendliness, and more than once, as they talked, Leonora wondered if she had almost imagined that dark tangle through which they had groped so unhappily.

“By the way,” Martin said, when all the more personal news had been disposed of, “I have one piece of news that may be of interest to you. I don’t know.”

What, Martin? Something nice?”

“Oh yes. I think one might call it nice. We have had definite instructions to find a purchaser for Farron, and to find one quickly. The owner has suddenly had an idea that he wants to put all his capital into some business concern, and that means realizing everything pretty quickly, or the chance will go.”

“Yes?” Leonora’s lips had suddenly gone rather dry with excitement.

“Well, Lora. I don’t know how you still feel about the place, but there’s not much doubt that if you cared to make a very quick offer, you could get it at a comparatively low figure.”

“Martin!”

“Mind, I don’t say I’m advising you to do it,” Martin said quickly. “But if it was Bruce’s home, and it has a sentimental value for you both, now is certainly the time to think twice about it.”

“Oh, if only—”

“If only what, Lora?”

“If only I could make him accept it.”

“Why not make it a joint concern?” Martin suggested.

“No. That’s not quite the same thing. Besides it is
I
who have the surplus money. Why shouldn’t I—? Oh!” she stopped suddenly and a deep wave of excited color came into her cheeks.

“What, Lora?” Martin could not help smiling in sympathetic amusement.

I’ve—thought—of a—way,” Leonora said slowly. “Martin, I’ve thought of a way, and I’m
going
to buy Farron! Could you please, please come with me to the lawyers tomorrow and help me to explain that I’m not just throwing my money away?”

“If you like,” Martin laughed. “Isn’t Bruce in on this at all, then?”

“No—not just yet,” Leonora explained hastily. “Please Martin, he mustn’t know yet.”

“All right But I hope I’m not going to be called all sorts of scoundrels in my turn for encouraging you to squander your money.”

However, even Mr. Meerwell relaxed his severe manner a little the following day, when Leonora had explained her intention all over again, and Martin, in his turn, had explained about the chance to buy Farron at a really low figure.

“Well, Mrs. Mickleham, I still think it a trifle unwise of you to sell some of your good investments, but you are of age, of course, and strictly speaking, can do exactly as you please. What does your husband say about it?”