An Introduction To The Eternal Collection Jubilee Edition (138 page)

But nothing could entirely distract Caroline’s attention from the empty chair which faced her at the far end of the table or indeed from the malignant looks cast in her direction by Mrs. Miller. The latter was all honey and sweetness when she turned her eyes languishingly in the direction of Mr. Warlingham, but she made no attempt to veil her hostility towards Caroline. Lady Augusta was, if possible, more malicious than usual, and though her chatter was amusing, Caroline had the impression that no one would escape the envenomed sting of her tongue.

During the whole meal, which seemed almost interminably drawn out, Caroline had the feeling of being alone and isolated among a formidable collection of enemies, and she missed Vane more than she believed it possible. Despite his despondency and despair there was some impregnable strength about him, and Caroline knew now that ever since she had come to the Castle she had, though previously she had not been aware of it, learned to rely on that strength and to feel in some curious manner secure within herself simply because he was there.

Now she felt as if waves of darkness reached out towards her. She could feel there clutching at her integrity, smothering her, drawing her down into their own diabolical depths of evil so that it was with a sigh not only of relief but of escape when finally the long meal drew to an end and the ladies left Mr. Warlingham alone with a decanter of port before him.

Caroline made her excuses to Lady Augusta and hurried up to her bedroom. Maria was waiting for her, holding in her hands a cloak of some soft, dark material

“Where did you get that, Maria?” Caroline asked curiously.

“I saw it in one of the wardrobes along the corridor,” Maria answered. “Twas hanging with some of his lordship’s apparel and I but borrowed it for this evening. As your ladyship does not wish to be seen, it would be best to cover your gown.”

“How wise of you, Maria!”

She let the maid drape the cloak over her shoulders and found that it fastened with a big onyx and diamond clasp.

“I have an idea,” she said, regarding the cloak, “that it is the kind of disguise worn by gentlemen on the Continent when they visit a festival.”

“‘Perhaps that is the reason for it being amongst his lordship’s finery,” Maria answered. “Well, no one will be requiring it this evening m'lady, and ‘tis just what you need.”

Caroline glanced at herself in the mirror.

“Indeed it is both useful and becoming,” she said with a little laugh.

The dark cloak, when it was thrown back a little, was in pleasing contrast to the sparkling brilliance of her gown. She raised, the hood and covered her head, hiding the diamond stars which Maria had set amongst her curls. It gave her an air of mystery and there was something enticing in the pale oval of her face peeping from out of its dark frame.

Caroline turned from the mirror.

“Are you ready, Maria?”

“Yes, m’lady, and James took the trunk over half an hour ago.”

“Then we will start. Which is the best way for us to leave the house?”

“There is a side door, m’lady, which can be reached by a secondary staircase.”

“Then lead the way, Maria,” Caroline said, “for I am prepared to trust myself entirely to you in this matter.”

Moving swiftly Maria led the way down the corridor and Caroline followed her. Fortunately there was no one about and they reached the side door by the secondary staircase without being seen.

Outside night had fallen, but it was not dark. The stars were beginning to twinkle in the sable of the sky and the moon was rising. It was a young moon and it seemed to hang pendent just above the tops of the highest trees.

Caroline and Maria walked quickly down the drive. As they neared the lodge gates, the church clock struck the half hour.

“I told James to conceal the box in the bushes on the left hand side,” Maria said. “There are some rhododendrons there, m’lady, and they should make a welcome screen in case anyone sees it from the lodge.”

“I hope we can find it,” Caroline said.

“I had not realised until now how many bushes and shrubs there are just about here.”

“We will find it for sure, m’lady,” Maria said reassuringly, and then while Caroline waited on the grassy edge of the drive, started to push her way behind a high clump of rhododendrons.

“‘Tis here, m’lady,” she called, “and there is a little clearing where it will be easy for Miss Wantage to change her dress.”

“She should be here by now,” Caroline said, looking towards the end of the drive where she could see the outline of the great gates and the heraldic lions silhouetted against the sky.

“Pray heaven the poor young lady’s heart does not fail her at the last moment,” Maria sighed.

“What a terrible thought, Maria!” Caroline ejaculated, “for I am convinced that Miss Wantage’s whole life hinges on this moment. It may well be her only chance of escape from that unpleasant father of hers. If she misses it – ”

“There is plenty of time, m’lady,” Maria said.

“I will not feel happy until I see her,” Caroline answered, moving a little nearer to the gates.

A moment later she gave a sigh of relief. Someone was running down the road, moving quickly, yet with an air of stealth and fear as if the devil himself were at her heels.

Caroline came out of the shadows.

“Oh, Caroline!” Harriet breathed, her breath coming quickly and unevenly between her lips.

“Ssh,” Caroline said warningly, “let me open the gates before we speak. I have no wish for the lodge keeper to overhear us.”

“No, no, of course not,” Harriet answered, “but oh be quick, Caroline, for I am sore afraid.”

Caroline lifted the heavy latch and opened one of the gates just wide enough for Harriet to squeeze through it, then, taking her by the hand, she drew her behind the rhododendrons.

“Is all well?” she asked.

“Oh no, Caroline, by no means. I am sure Papa suspects. He seemed so strange at dinner, restless and unlike himself, though maybe it was just my imagination.”

“If he had suspected you, he would have spoken of it,” Caroline said wisely. “He did not hear you leave the house?”

“I told him I was about to retire, oh Caroline, such shameful lies! I swear my conscience is heavy with them.”

“They are only white lies,” Caroline said soothingly, “and even if they were not, Harriet, isn’t it worth anything, even a heavy conscience, to know that soon, very soon, you will be a bride?”

Harriet put her hands quickly to her cheeks.

“It makes me blush to think on it. My heart is fluttering so violently that it feels as if it would burst from my very body. I am afraid, Caroline, afraid of what I am about to do.”

Harriet indeed was not underestimating her fears, for she was trembling all over and Caroline noticed when she took her hand that it was icy cold.

“Had I thought of it I would have brought a flask of brandy with me,” Caroline said, “for I swear you need a ball of fire to give you courage, Harriet. But hurry, you cannot delay too long. Maria is waiting for you to change your gown.”

Harriet stood trembling.

“Oh, Caroline, I am not brave like you. Maybe it would be better for me to return home. I dare not risk Papa’s anger by embarking on this road adventure.”

“Fiddlesticks,” Caroline said sharply. “Do not be so nonsensical, Harriet. Here you have a charming young man desirous of marrying you and you contemplate refusing his offer and returning to a life of slavery! Have you forgotten already, what you felt when he kissed you? Have you forgotten what it means to have someone tell you that he loves you and that you mean everything in the world to him?”

“Oh, Caroline, Caroline, what am I to do?” Harriet wailed in an agony of indecision.

In answer Caroline put hands on her shoulders and gave her a little shake.

“Pull yourself together, Harriet,” she said. “I will tell you what to do and you must be guided by me, for I swear I have your interests at heart.”

“You are so brave, Caroline,” Harriet said. “If only I were like you!”

“You will look more like me when you remove that hideous gown,” Caroline said. “Hurry, Harriet, we have none too much time ”

It was not easy to undress Harriet and dress her again in the darkness, but Caroline and Maria managed it, although Harriet herself was worse than useless, being half in tears and still so much of a tremble that her fingers were incapable of doing up a button or tying a ribbon.

But at length she was garbed in the pale blue gown, and Caroline set the bonnet trimmed with swansdown upon her hair and tied the ribbons under her chin.

“Now for the muff,” Caroline exclaimed, and as Maria presented it to Harriet she stepped back and gave a little cry of approval. A shaft of moonlight illuminated Harriet as she stood there, and made her look both elegant and distinguished despite the tears which continually gathered in her eyes and ran unchecked down her cheeks.

“You look entrancing,” Caroline exclaimed. “No gentleman could fail to wish to run away with you in that garb but pray stop crying for it is to a wedding you are going and not a funeral.”

Harriet gave a little gulpy laugh.

“Oh, Caroline, you are so droll but I am still sadly afraid.”

“What, of Mr. Stratton?” Caroline asked half scornfully. “Then tell him so, for it will make him feel strong and responsible to have a weak little woman weeping on his manly chest.”

“He is more likely to cast me from him,” Harriet said miserably, “for Papa says that nothing angers a gentleman more than a woman’s tears.”

‘Your Papa is nothing but a nincompoop,” Caroline said, “and one day I hope I shall have the pleasure of telling him so. Now keep very still, Harriet, for Maria is going to wipe your face and put a touch of rouge on your cheeks.”

“Oh no, Caroline, ’tis immodest.”

“Rouge on your cheeks,” Caroline repeated firmly, “and a rosy salve on your lips, so stop talking, Harriet.”

Maria had hardly finished her task, which was not an easy one, when there was a sudden clatter of horses’ hoofs and the sound of a wheeled vehicle drawing up on the roadway.

“Tis he!” Harriet said. “I – cannot go – I cannot.”

“You are not going yet,” Caroline answered calmly. “You must keep the gentleman cooling his heels for several minutes at least.”

Harriet instantly looked alarmed.

“But suppose – Caroline – suppose he should not wait for me?”

“That would indeed be a pity,” Caroline answered drily, “but me thought you were undecided whether to accompany him or not?”

“Oh, I am,” Harriet said, “but – Caroline, he is waiting!”.

They could hear the jingle of harness, the sound of the horses pawing the ground impatiently. Then there was a hushed cough.

“I must go to him, I must,” Harriet whispered urgently. “He will suspicion that I have changed my mind.”

“And you have not?” Caroline asked.

“No indeed, but what Papa will say I cannot imagine.”

“If you take my advice, you will get out of hearing of your Papa as quickly as possible,” Caroline said.

“‘And if he pursues us?” Harriet questioned suddenly in tones of the utmost horror.

“If he does, it will be up to Mr. Stratton to show his mettle. I think you can trust him, Harriet, and you should be across the border and married before your father catches up with you.”

“Oh I pray so, indeed I do,” Harriet cried, “and now I must go. Thank you, dearest Caroline, I am for ever in your debt.”

“And what about your trunk?” Caroline asked.

“I will leave it.” Harriet said wildly.

“You will do nothing of the sort,” Caroline said, “Maria,

follow Miss Wantage and hand her trunk to Mr. Stratton.”

She reached out and put her hand on Harriet’s arm.

“Listen, Harriet, if he asks who Maria is, say ‘tis one of the Vicarage maids whom you can trust.”

“Yes, yes, I will do that,” Harriet said in a flutter, “and now I really must go to him – supposing – just supposing, – he felt he could wait no longer.”

She pushed her way through the bushes, hurried across the drive and squeezed her way through the open gate. Maria, picking up the trunk by its two handles, followed her sturdily, while Caroline, pulling the hood well over her face, peeped from the shadows, anxious to hear what happened.

One of the horses gave a sudden neigh as if it called out a greeting to Harriet, and then Caroline saw Mr. Stratton come to meet her. When she reached him, he put his arms round her and held her closely to him. She wilted against him, her head dropping for an instant to his shoulder.

“Thank God you are here,” Caroline heard Mr
.
Stratton say. “I was curst afraid that something would prevent you from coming.”

“Oh, sir, it was not easy,” Harriet’s voice faltered, “and if we be going, let us, go quickly, for my Father may discover that I am missing.”

“We will waste no time,” Mr. Stratton said in a firm voice.

It seemed that he suddenly perceived Maria, for as he led Harriet towards the coach he stopped and asked sharply,

“Who is this?”

But before Harriet could answer, Maria stepped forward.

“ ‘Tis Madam’s trunk, sir, and you trust me with your secret for I will speak of it to no one. But oh, sir, begone swiftly, for I suspicion that the Reverend gentleman may give chase at any moment.”

“The devil he will!” Mr. Stratton said with a ring in his voice. “Come, Harriet.”

It seemed to Caroline watching that he half lifted Harriet into the post-chaise. The trunk was set-up beside the coachman, there was a crack of the whip, one of the horses reared up in excitement, and then they were off.

Maria came hurrying back through the gates and Caroline stepped out of the shadows to join her.

“That was splendid, Maria! You said exactly the right. thing. Mr. Stratton will have no time for boredom if he is watching the road behind them all the way to Gretna Green.”

“And if the gentleman is not apprehensive enough,” Maria laughed, “Miss Wantage’s fears will keep him continually on the jump. Lawks, but ‘tis sorry for her I am, m’lady, for she has not the courage of a mouse.”

“But she is so womanly,” Caroline said with a wicked little smile. “Both you and my Mother should approve of a female who has all the tremors and vapourings of our sex.”