Faro's Daughter (24 page)

‘Thanks to your crazy conduct!’ he said furiously. ‘Upon my soul, I believe you are mad! Where is the key to the cellar?’

‘In my pocket, where it will stay!’ she replied.

‘Give it to me this instant! God knows what I can find to say to him! I shall tell him that you are not yourself. Oh, there was never anything so damnably unlucky!’

She was no longer laughing. She laid her hand on his arm, saying seriously: ‘You cannot mean to be so disloyal to me!’

‘Disloyal! Do you expect me to help you to gaol? That is where you will end, I can tell you, unless I can smooth Ravenscar down! If you wish to talk of disloyalty, pray consider your own conduct in alienating the one man in the world I would give a fortune to be on terms with! Give me the key!’

‘I’ll do no such thing!’ Deborah said, backing away from him. ‘How can you be so poor-spirited, Kit? Does Arabella Ravenscar mean more to you than Aunt Lizzie, and me? I am very sure she does not intend to marry you!’

‘You know nothing of the matter! Are you going to give me that key?’

‘No, I am not!’

‘Then I’ll take it!’ said Kit, closing with her.

Miss Grantham fought desperately, but being no match for him was very soon overcome. He dragged the key from hi pocket, and waiting only long enough to say: ‘I am sorry you are hurt, but it is your own fault!’ ran down the stairs to the hall.

She would have followed him, to call to Silas to stop him but the sound of voices below informed her that more guest were arriving. Angry as she was, she could not inaugurate brawl in front of strangers, and was obliged to go back in the saloon, to hide her rage and her chagrin under the be smile she could muster.

Mr Grantham was also checked by the noise of fresh arrival and turned back to make his way down the backstairs. In the basement he ran into a surprised kitchenmaid, but he told her hastily that he had come down to the cellars to look out a very special wine, and brushed past her. Finding the lantern by the area-door, he picked this up, and after plunging into a coal cellar, several store-cupboards, and a boot-hole, came up the locked door at the end of the stone passage. He fitted the key into the lock with trembling fingers, and turned it, and pushed open the door, holding up the lantern.

Its glow illuminated Mr Ravenscar’s harsh features, and showed him to be still sitting in the Windsor chair, with his legs crossed, and his hands behind his back.

‘Sir!’ stammered Kit. ‘Sir! Mr Ravenscar?’

‘Who the devil are you?’ asked Ravenscar.

Kit set the lantern down on the top of a corded trunk. ‘Oh sir, I do not know what you must think! I do not know what to say to you! I am Grantham—Deb’s brother, you know! I came as soon as I was aware—I was never more shocked in my life!’

‘Her brother? Oh, yes, I seem to remember that there was some talk of a brother! Have you come to try to persuade me in your sister’s stead? You will not succeed.’

‘No, no!’ Kit assured him. ‘I never knew—I would never have consented, nor permitted—I am most heartily sorry for it, sir, indeed I am! I have come to set you free! Nothing was ever so disgraceful! But you will forgive Deb, I know! She was always so headstrong that no one could do anything with her but though she has a quick temper she don’t mean any harm.’

Ravenscar, who had been regarding him with a lower brow, broke in on this to demand: ‘Are you aware of the circumstances that have led to my being in this damnably uncomfortable cellar?’

‘Yes—at least, not entirely, for I had no time to listen to it all! But it can’t signify, and Deb had no right to kidnap you like this! I cannot think how she could be so mad!’

‘Let there be no misunderstanding about this!’ said Ravenscar. ‘Your sister, I suppose, must have told you that I have insulted her in almost every conceivable way?’

‘Oh, but I know how she talks when she is angry, and I assure you I set very little store by it!’

‘Well, I did insult her,’ said Ravenscar.

Kit looked very much taken aback by this, and did not know what to say. After a moment, he stammered: ‘I daresay she might have vexed you excessively. I do not rightly understand just what—but you cannot remain here, that is certain! Good God, did she have you tied up? I will have you free in a trice!’

‘Keep your distance!’ said Ravenscar, holding him off with one elegantly shod foot. ‘Why should you want to set me free? If you had come to knock my teeth down my throat I could better understand it.’

‘You cannot suppose that I will allow my sister to—to tie people up, and put them in the cellar!’ exclaimed Kit. ‘I never heard of such a thing! And when I learned that it was you—you must know, sir, that I am—that I have the honour of being acquainted with your sister—with Miss Arabella Ravenscar!’

‘Oh!’ said Ravenscar. ‘So you are acquainted with my sister, are you? Are you, I wonder, stationed in Tunbridge Wells?’

‘Yes,’ said Kit eagerly. ‘That is where I met her, sir! I had hoped to have called upon you in town. I wanted very particularly to—’

‘To ask for my permission to pay your addresses to her, I infer?’

Kit blushed, and looked rather sheepish. ‘Yes. Yes, that was it, sir! You must know that I—’

‘I want to know nothing at all about it!’ interrupted Ravenscar unkindly. ‘There is not the smallest likelihood of my giving you permission to address her, and if you ever dare to come into my house, I’ll kick you down the steps!’

Kit turned pale at this brutal speech. ‘It was not my fault that you were brought here, sir! You must believe I had nothing to do with it! I was in total ignorance of it until just now! You cannot mean to visit your anger upon me, and upon Arabella! Indeed—’

‘Let me tell you, Mr Grantham, that there would have been more hope of winning my consent to your suit if you had come here to quarrel with me!’ said Ravenscar cuttingly. ‘When my sister marries it will be to a man with some spirit in him! Why you contemptible little worm, if you had a spark of pride or courage you would be calling me out, not offering to set me free! Your sister is worth a dozen of you! And she is a jade!’

Kit swallowed, and said with what dignity he could summon up: ‘You must be aware that I cannot strike a man who he is bound. If Deb had only told me what was amiss I would have acted for her, and I hope I know how to protect my own sister. But to have you kidnapped is beyond anything! You are angry and I cannot wonder at it, but—’

‘Go to the devil!’ said Ravenscar.

‘But—but shan’t I untie you?’ asked Kit, utterly bewildered. ‘You cannot mean to remain here all night!’

‘What I mean to do is no concern of yours! How did you come by that key?’

‘I took it from Deb,’ faltered Kit.

‘Then take it back to her—with my compliments! And don’t forget to lock the door behind you!’ said Mr Ravenscar.

Kit looked at him in a somewhat dazed fashion, but as Mr Ravenscar’s countenance wore a most forbidding expression, he picked up the lantern, and backed out of the cellar, obediently locking the door again, and removing the key. It seemed as though Ravenscar as well as Deborah was mad, and he was quite at a loss to know what to do. He went slowly upstairs again, and since there could be no object in retaining the key to a cell whose inmate refused to be set free, he made his way to Deborah’s side, and twitched her sleeve to attract her attention

She cast him a scorching glance, and turned away, but he followed her into the adjoining saloon, saying gruffly: ‘Here, you may take this!’

She looked in surprise at the key. ‘Why, what do you mean? Have you thought better of it? Is he still there?’

‘I think he is mad!’ said Kit, in an aggrieved tone. ‘I did try to set him free, but he would not let me! He told me to go to the devil, and said I was to give you back the key with his compliments. I do not know what is to be done. You have ruined everything.’

She took the key, almost as astonished as he was. ‘He told you to give it back to me?’ she repeated. ‘He would not let you set him free-,’

‘No, I tell you! I do not know what is the matter with him. One would say he must be in his cups, but he is not.’

‘He means to fight it out with me,’ she said, her eyes lighting up. ‘Well, and so he shall!’

She lost very little time in making her way down to the basement again, carrying this time one of the bedroom candles set out on a table at the foot of the backstairs, and guarding its frail flame from the draughts in the passage with her cupped hand.

Mr Ravenscar looked at her with a flickering smile as she entered his prison, and rose from his chair. ‘Well, Miss Grantham? What now?’

She shut the door, and stood with her back to it. ‘Why did you refuse to let my brother release you?’

‘Because I would not be so beholden to him! He has not an ounce of spirit in him.’

She sighed, but shook her head. ‘I know, but the poor boy found himself in a sad quandary. He is a little spoilt.’

‘He wants kicking,’ said Mr Ravenscar, ‘and he will get it if he comes serenading my sister!’

‘I don’t think she has the least idea of marrying him,’ said Miss Grantham reflectively.

‘What do you know of the matter?’

‘Nothing!’ she said hastily. ‘Adrian has told me a little about her, that is all. But I am not here to talk of your sister or of Kit either. Have you thought better of your rash words, sir?’

‘If you mean, do I intend to give you back those bills, no!’

‘You need not think I shall let you go, just because you would not permit Kit to set you free!’ she said in a scolding voice.

‘I thought you were not here to talk of your brother? You may forget that incident.’

She looked at him rather helplessly. ‘You were to have dined with Mr Crewe tonight. It will be all over town by tomorrow that you have disappeared. Already Sir James Filey is letting fall the most odious hints! He is upstairs now.’

‘Let him hint!’ said Ravenscar indifferently.

‘If you do not race tomorrow, what excuse can you make that will not make you appear ridiculous?’

‘I have no idea. Have you any suggestion to offer me?’

‘No, I have not,’ she said crossly. ‘You think I do not me to keep my word, but I do!’

‘I hope you mean to bring me a pillow for the night.’

‘I don’t. I hope you will be excessively uncomfortable,’ snapped Miss Grantham. ‘If I dared, I would let you starve death here!’

‘Oh, don’t you dare?’ he asked. ‘I had thought there was limit to your daring—or your effrontery!’

‘I have a very good mind to let Silas come down and bring you to reason!’ she threatened.

‘By all means, if you imagine it would answer.’

‘I will allow you half an hour to make up your mind or and for all,’ she said, steeling herself. ‘If you are still obstinate you will be sorry!’

‘That remains to be seen. I may be sorry, but you will get your bills, my girl, I promise you.’

‘It will be quite your own fault if you catch a cold do, here,’ she said. ‘And I dare say you will, for it may be damp!’

‘I have an excellent constitution. If you mean to leave me now, do me the favour of allowing me to keep the candle!’

‘Why should you want a candle?’ she asked suspiciously,

‘To frighten away the rats,’ he replied.

She cast an involuntary glance around the cellar. ‘Good God are there rats here?’ she said nervously.

‘Of course there are—dozens of ’em!’

‘How horrible!’ she shuddered. ‘I will leave you the candle but do not think by that I shall relent!’

‘I won’t,’ he promised.

Miss Grantham withdrew, feeling baffled.

Upstairs, she found that Lord Mablethorpe had vanished and guessed that he had slipped away to talk to Phoebe in the back-parlour. Lucius Kennet came strolling up to her, and asked her under his breath how the prisoner was faring. She whispered that he was determined not to surrender. Mr Kennet grimaced. ‘You’d best let me reason with him, me darlin’

‘I will not. You have done enough mischief!’ she said, remembering his perfidy. ‘How dared you trick him in my name. I told you I would not have it!’

‘Ah, now, Deb, don’t be squeamish! How was I to kidnap him at all, without he walked into a trap?’

She turned her shoulder, and went away to watch faro-players, resolutely frustrating an attempt upon her aunt’s part to catch her eye.

The half-hour she had promised to allow Mr Ravenscar for final reflection lagged past, and she found herself at the end of it without any very definite idea of how she was to persuade him to submit if he should still prove obstinate. Her aunt was leading the way downstairs to the first supper when she paid her third visit to the cellar, and she could not help thinking that her prisoner must, by this time, be feeling both cold and hungry.

She unlocked the cellar door, and went in, closing it behind her. Mr Ravenscar was standing beside his chair, leaning his shoulders against the wall. ‘Well?’ she said, in as implacable a tone as she could.

‘I am sorry you did not send your henchman down to me,’ said Ravenscar. ‘Or your ingenious friend, Mr Kennet. I was rather hoping to see one, or both, of these gentlemen. I meant to shut them up here for the night, but I suppose I can hardly serve you in the same way, richly though you deserve it!’