An Introduction To The Eternal Collection Jubilee Edition (131 page)

“Forgive me for disturbing you, Ma’am,” Caroline said as she drew near to the bedside.

“What is it, child?” Lady Brecon enquired.

Caroline stood for a moment in silence. There was an expression on her face which caused Lady Brecon to ask.

“You are in trouble Miss Fry? Can I not help you?”

“I have something to tell your ladyship,” Caroline answered in a very low voice, “but it is hard to put into words.”

Lady Brecon put out her hand invitingly, and slowly but almost reluctantly Caroline gave hers into the older woman’s sympathetic clasp,

“But how cold you are, my dear!” Lady Brecon exclaimed. “And why are you trembling? Has somebody frightened you?”

“No, I am not afraid,” Caroline said quietly. “It is only that I am a trifle overwrought. Your ladyship will understand why when I tell you that your son, his lordship, has but this moment announced to the assembled company downstairs that he and I are to be wed at midnight.”

“Wed!” Lady Brecon exclaimed.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Caroline answered, “and that is not all. I must confess to your ladyship that I have deceived you. I am not Caroline Fry, but Caroline Faye, daughter of the Marquis and Marchioness of Vulcan. I came here and solicited your kindness under false pretences. I can only ask your ladyship to forgive me and to believe that there was a very good reason for my deception.”

“And will you tell me that reason?” Lady Brecon asked quietly.

For one moment Caroline was tempted to pour out the whole story, to relate to Lady Brecon her fears and suspicions of foul play, of her premonition of danger and her conviction that Lord Brecon had enemies who would deprive him of his very life. Then, even as her lips parted to begin her tale, she remembered Lady Brecon’s fragility and Dorcas’ constant and unceasing care of her. She might be far less strong than she appeared and to learn that her only son was in grave danger might be shock enough to kill her.

Swiftly Caroline made up her mind to be discreet.

“I cannot, as I would wish, relate to you the whole story, Ma’am,” she said quietly. “Will it suffice to tell you that I came here because I love your son? I have loved him since we first met.”

Lady Brecon’s face softened.

“Then that, dear child, is all that, matters. And Vane loves you?”

“I believe that he does,” Caroline replied.

“In which case I am happy,” Lady Brecon said, clasping Caroline’s hand very tightly in hers. “I have prayed for so long that Vane would find someone to love and that in return she would love him, not for his possessions or indeed for his looks, but for himself. I may be prejudiced, but in my opinion Vane is a very fine and a very lovable person. I have always desired that he should find a wife who would take care of him.”

Caroline raised her eyes wonderingly.

“Then you are not angry with me?” she asked.

“Not in the least. I liked you from the first moment that I saw your pretty face and in the very short time that you have been here I have grown to love you. I know of no one to whom I would rather trust my son’s happiness.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

Caroline bent her head suddenly and kissed the hand that held hers.

“My dear,” Lady Brecon exclaimed, and there were tears in her eyes, “kiss me properly.”

Caroline’s lips touched the soft, delicate cheek then as Lady Brecon relinquished her hand, she said,

“I am indeed deeply honoured, Ma’am, that you should trust me.”

“I am convinced that I can do so,” Lady Brecon said. “I am not even questioning the reason for such haste. I will not even say that it seems to me unseemly, for you and Vane must follow the dictates of your own hearts. I shall but pray for you both.”

There was something in her sweet simplicity which brought a sudden sob to Caroline’s throat.

“Oh, Ma’am, you are too kind. It is more than I deserve.”

“No, Caroline, don’t say that, for if, as you have told me, you have done this because you love Vane, then indeed I understand. We are all capable of strange deeds and indeed great ones when they are done for someone whom we love truly and with all our hearts.”

Her words awakened an echo in Caroline’s memory.

“Why, Ma’am, my father said much the same thing to me. He said any sacrifice is worthwhile, no risk is too great, if it is for someone we love.”

“Your father was right,” Lady’ Brecon said softly, “No risk is too great.”

“Then I know I am doing what is right,” Caroline said. “Thank you, Ma’am. And now I must leave you.”

“One moment.” Lady Brecon said. “Will you pull the bell cord, my dear?”

Caroline did as she was told. She heard the faint sound of its tinkle in the next room. The communicating door between the bedrooms opened almost instantly and Dorcas, fully dressed, came into the room. Lady Brecon glanced at her maid and saw the answer to her unspoken question on her face.

“So you have heard, Dorcas? Bring me the family veil for her ladyship and also my jewel case.”

Dorcas lit a taper from the glowing embers of the fire and, held it to the candles on the mantelshelf. The warm golden light dispelled the shadows. From a big chest at the further end of the room she brought to the bed something packed carefully in white paper.

“This is the family veil, my dear,” Lady Brecon exclaimed. “I would like you to wear it when you wed Vane, for I wore it myself, as have many generations of Brecon brides.”

“I would like to wear it,” Caroline said simply.

Again Dorcas crossed the room and this time she returned with a big square jewel case covered in blue leather and embossed with Lady Brecon’s initials surmounted by a coronet. She placed it beside the bed and gave her ladyship the key.

“It is many years since I even saw my jewels, let alone wore them,” Lady Brecon said. “These are my own. The family gems are kept in safety at a bank in London.”

She opened the case and Caroline saw rings, bracelets and brooches resting on velvet cushions in a glittering array. Lady Brecon lifted a tray and drawer from the bottom of the case a tiara of diamonds. It was an exquisite piece, fashioned so that it would encircle the entire head. The stones were set with skilful craftsmanship in the shape of flowers and they glittered dazzlingly in the light of the candles, seeming almost to quiver into life as Lady Brecon gave the sparking crown into Caroline’s hands.

“My wedding present to you, my sweet daughter-in-law to be,” she said.

“Oh, but, Ma’am, how can I take it?” Caroline asked.

“I desire you to have it,” Lady Brecon said firmly. “It is my very own and the best that I have to give.”

“Then thank you, Ma’am, with all my heart,” Caroline said softly, and she bent once again to kiss Lady Brecon on the cheek.

Picking up the lace veil, she said good-night and went towards the door. Dorcas opened it for her and to Caroline’s surprise followed her out into the corridor. She obviously wished to say something which would not be overheard by Lady Breton and Caroline waited for her to speak. Dorcas seemed more than usually gaunt and angular, but when she spoke her voice was softer, and not as harsh as it was ordinarily.

“I would like to wish your ladyship every happiness.”

“Thank you, Dorcas.”

“You will find it, m’lady, for you have a rare courage,” Dorcas said unexpectedly. “Be not afraid, however strange some things may seem to your ladyship.”

The words seemed almost to be torn from her lips as if she spoke against an effort to keep silent.

“Thank you, Dorcas,” Caroline said gravely. “I will try not to be afraid.”

“Yes, try, m’lady,” Dorcas said drily, ‘for things are not always that which they appear to be.”

Caroline wanted to ask Dorcas what she meant by this enigmatic remark, but before she could ask the question the elderly woman had stepped back into Lady Breton’s bedroom and the door shut softly behind her.

Caroline went to her own room. Maria was waiting for her, still in a state of excited agitation.

“Oh, m’lady, ‘tis all of a dither I am, for I was. wondering where you had gone. What is it that your ladyship has in your hand?”

Caroline gave the veil and the tiara to Maria.

“Arrange these for me,” she said and seated herself at the dressing-table.

Maria opened out the veil. It was of the finest Brussels lace and as delicate as a spider’s web.

“Oh, m’lady, ‘tis beautiful.” Maria exclaimed and continued to talk while she draped the veil over Caroline’s head and held it in place with the sparkling brilliance of the tiara.

Caroline did not listen to her. She was thinking of Lady Breton’s sweetness and Dorcas’ unexpected words of encouragement. No, she would not be afraid!

Vane might be angry with her but at least in his anger he had forgotten his previous determination to drive her from his life.

However hard it might prove to be, however horrible the revelations that lay ahead, Caroline told herself that anything was better than being separated from him. She was so sure of her love, so certain with an unshakable conviction that Vane was the right man for her and she the right woman for him that she could view Vane’s secret, now that she would soon be in a position to share it with him, without much apprehension. She was confident beyond the possibility of any doubt that they had been meant for each other and that fate had sent them into each other’s lives in such a strange manner for that very reason and ultimately, Caroline believed, things would work out better than if they had met in a conventional, carefree manner.

She had only to remember her indifference to the other men who had expressed their affection for her to ask herself whether she would have loved Vane so deeply and with such a consuming passion if they had been introduced at a ball and he had courted her with all the frills, elegance and unhurried courtesy of a conventional romance.

Such a course seemed somehow unthinkable in connection with Vane. No, their love was meant to be turbulent and violent. Perhaps it would feed on difficulties, and, passing through them, be tempered so that pure and untarnished their affection for each other would last for all eternity.

Maria stood back to admire her handiwork.

“There, m’lady, I have finished. Never have I seen your ladyship look more beautiful!”

For the first time since she had sat down at the dressing-table Caroline looked at her reflection in the mirror. The soft, shadowy folds of the lace veil framed her face but did not entirely conceal the burnished glitter of her hair. The diamond tiara crowned her head. It gave her a regal look, seeming a fitting ornament to surmount the long elegance of her neck and to enhance the manner in which she proudly lifted her chin.

Yes, she was beautiful, but there was something more than beauty in the depths of her eyes, in the sudden trembling of her soft mouth. Here was the face of a girl who stands at the crossroads of life, reaching out towards womanhood, sensing the mysteries which lie ahead.

For a moment Caroline shut her eyes against the revelations she could read in her own face. It was almost too much to bear, this picture of herself half shrinking, half triumphant a mixture of child and woman, suspended as it were between heaven and earth, yet with it all confident because the greatest of all emotions was stirring within her breast. She rose to her feet.

“What is the hour?”

Maria looked at the clock on the mantelshelf.

“Tis but a minute or two to midnight, m’lady,” she replied, and even as she spoke there came a loud knocking at the door. Maria opened it. James was standing there, but as if he was conscious of the solemnity of the occasion his cheeky grin was missing and he did not even twinkle at her.

“His lordship’s compliments, and he awaits her ladyship below.”

Maria shut the door and turned towards Caroline. There were tears in her eyes now and as she looked at her mistress they overflowed and ran down her cheeks.

“Oh, m’lady! M’lady!”

“Dry your tears, Maria,” Caroline said quietly, “and go ahead of me to the Chapel, for I wish you to see me married. I will follow in one second.”

“Yes, m’lady,” Maria sobbed, “but who will take you to the altar? Oh, if only his lordship, the Marquis, was here! And what will he say at having missed the greatest day in your life?”

Caroline put her hand on Maria’s shoulder.

“I would have liked above all things for Papa, and Mama to be with me, but as they are not, Maria, wish me luck.”

“Oh, m’lady, I wish you all the happiness there is in the world. You know I do,” Maria sobbed, wiping her eyes on the corner of her apron.

“Then run along,” Caroline said, and obediently Maria went from the room, leaving her alone.

For a moment Caroline stood quite still in the centre of the room. Then she went down on her knees beside her bed. With her eyes closed and her hands clasped together she prayed the simple prayers that she had repeated every evening since she had been a child. She said them over very quietly, concentrating on them to the exclusion of all else, and when she had finished she felt suddenly at peace within herself and filled with a quiet strength which, she knew would not fail her.

She opened the door of her bedchamber. Slowly she walked down the passage. It was very quiet save for the rustle of her dress and the soft movement made by the lace veil as it trailed behind her on the carpet. When she came to the top of the Grand Staircase, she looked below and saw that standing alone in the centre of the hall Lord Brecon was waiting for her.

As she came down the stairs, she was aware that he watched her, but as she drew near to him she saw that the expression on his face was inscrutable. It was indeed at that moment, it seemed to her, the face of a stranger. He gave her no greeting, there was no smile on his lips and she knew, as he bowed and proffered his arm, that he was still angry.

In silence they moved through the hall and turned down the passage which led past the dining-room beyond which Caroline had never ventured. Now the candles were lit and the whole way was a blaze of light as far as she could see. There were flunkeys lining the walls. Soon she heard the distant murmur of voices, their tones lowered, it was true, but still the whispering, muttering, gossiping voices of people, and Caroline guessed that the guests were assembled and waiting for them in the Chapel.