The Benevent Treasure (14 page)

Candida walked away. She had nothing to say to Anna. She had nothing to say to anyone. She was too horrified to be angry. The sudden violence appalled her. It seemed so completely without reason — in such unexplained conflict with Olivia Benevent’s dignity and self-control.

When she reached her room she took off the white dress and hung it up in the gloomy Victorian wardrobe on the right of the door. She wondered if she would ever want to wear it again, because Miss Olivia had chosen it and given it to her. And then it came to her that she would forget that and only remember that she had worn it when Stephen held her in his arms. The shocking feeling began to pass. She began to wonder why the thing had happened. She had said that Miss Cara seemed ill, and Olivia had struck her. There didn’t seem to be any sense in it. Perhaps there wasn’t ever any sense about people getting angry, but as a rule you did know why.

She put up her hand to her face and brought it away with a smear of blood on the forefinger. If there was blood on the dress, she couldn’t wear it again. They said blood never came out, but that was nonsense. But she didn’t want to look and see whether the dress was stained. If it was, let it stay in the dark — she didn’t want to see it. It was the amethyst bracelet that had broken the skin. The stones were large and the gold setting heavy. She held a cloth steeped in cold water to the scratch, but the blood went on starting. It took her some time to stop it.

She put on her dressing-gown and sat down by the fire. There was so much to think about. There was Stephen. She remembered with astonishment that there had been anger between them, that they had quarrelled. It didn’t seem possible that their bond had ever been broken. She could see it bright and strong, always there even from the very first moment when he had called to her from the sea. Perseus coming to rescue Andromeda chained to the cliff. But it wasn’t he who had the Gorgon’s head. It was Olivia Benevent who was Medusa with the eyes which turned to stone. Only instead of the wreath of twining snakes there were the black waves of her hair.

Her thoughts had begun to slip into fantasy, when there was a tapping at the door and without waiting for an answer Anna came in, her hands outstretched, her eyes full of tears.

‘Oh, Miss Candida, what do I say — I am so sorry, so sorry! I would have come before, but I have to put my poor Miss Cara into her bed. She is tired, she is exhausted, she is ill. And she is cold, my poor Miss Cara — she is so cold! There are two hot water-bottles in her bed. I wrap her in a soft, warm shawl, and I bring her hot milk with brandy in it. Now she sleeps. And all this time Miss Olivia shuts her door. I knock upon it and there is no answer. I try the handle and it will not turn — the door is locked. So then I come here to you.’ She drew in her breath with a sound of sharp distress. ‘Oh, there is blood on your face! My poor Miss Candida!’

Candida said, ‘It isn’t anything.’ There was a little bead of blood upon her chin, but it had begun to dry.

Anna clucked over her like a distressed hen.

‘It was the heavy bracelet. She did not mean to do that. It will not leave a scar.’

‘Oh, no — it’s nothing.’

‘She will be so distressed when she sees it. And your cheek — there will be a bruise!’

‘It will soon go. Anna, why did she do it?’

Anna made a wringing motion with her hands.

‘You said something about Miss Cara — I should have warned you. But what is one to do? One says too much, or one says too little. How is one to know what is right? I say nothing, and this happens! I have served them for forty years, and still I do not know what is best.’

Candida looked at her gravely.

‘Why was she so angry?’

Anna threw up her hands.

‘How do I know? You do not tell me what you say. It is something about Miss Cara?’

‘I said that she was tired — I had to help her up the stairs. I said that she was ill.’

‘But that is what no one must ever say. No one — no one must say it. I should have told you. Even I, after all these years — I tell you, you are not the only one. She has struck me before now. No one must ever say that Miss Cara is ill — she will not bear it.’

‘Why?’

‘Do you not know?’

‘How can I? It doesn’t make sense.’

Anna closed her lips and turned away. She moved towards the door. And then very suddenly she came back again, her white hair sticking up in a fuzz and her face working.

‘Miss Candida, do you not know what is on her mind? If Miss Cara is ill — she thinks suppose it were that Miss Cara should die. She is not strong — she has never been strong. If she dies, what happens then — what will there be left for Miss Olivia? Everything belongs to Miss Cara, but only for her life. She cannot leave it to her sister — not one penny of it! Miss Olivia will have enough to live on — in a little house in Retley! What would that be like for her? Do you think she would bear it? But this house and everything in it, and the money, and the Treasure — if there is any of it left, and how do I know if there is or not — all these things will be yours! And you tell her that Miss Cara is ill! Do you ask why she strikes you?’

She turned round and went out of the room.

Since Nellie had gone, it was Anna who brought in the morning tea. Candida, who had not thought that she would sleep, lost herself almost from the moment that her head touched the pillow. There were no dreams, there was not anything, but she awoke with the feeling that she had been a long way off. Anna stood beside her, smiling and solicitous.

‘You slept? There is nothing like sleep and another day. Last night everyone is tired, everything goes wrong. We are gloomy, we quarrel. It is all very bad. But this morning we forget about it — it is gone.’

Candida pulled herself up in the bed, her nightgown slipping from one shoulder. She blinked at Anna and said,

‘I don’t think it’s as easy as that’

Anna laughed.

‘Oh, yes, yes! Why, the rain is over, the sun shines and the birds sing! What is the use of thinking about yesterday’s weather? We are not there any more. If it rained yesterday, there is no need for us to wet our feet today. Come, you did not tell me about the party. Did you like the music? Did you see Mr. Eversley? Well, I think you did, and I think that was one of the things that made Miss Olivia cross. She does not think he is good enough for you. She would like you to be fond of Mr. Derek, and she would like him to be fond of you.’

Candida laughed.

‘But I am very fond of Derek, and I hope he is fond of me.’

Anna tossed her head, the white hair flew up.

‘If it were like that, you would not say so! When you say of someone, “I am so fond of him,” that means nothing at all. But if you say, “I hate him,” or “I don’t think about him,” that is the one I would look out for! Now drink your tea, or it will be cold. And let me see your face… Dio Mio! What it is to have a skin that heals like that! There is hardly anything to show! If you will put a little cream and powder on it, there will be nothing for anyone to talk about.’

Candida drank her tea and set down the cup. Then she said,

‘Anna, I can’t stay here.’

Anna threw up her hands.

‘Because Miss Olivia loses her temper? In forty years how many times do you think she has lost it with me? And for you it is all in the family. You are the child of the house, the little niece of whom everyone is fond, and you get sometimes a present and sometimes a slap. Would you make any more of it than that? If you do, you will be making much trouble about a very little thing. And Miss Cara will be sad, and that is not good for her. My poor Miss Cara, she has had enough!’

And that was true. Remembering how small and frail the little creature had looked, Candida’s heart misgave her. You can’t just ride your high horse down the middle of the road and not care whether you knock someone else over, especially if they are poor little things like Aunt Cara.

Anna’s large dark eyes were fixed on her with a melting expression. Candida was reminded of a spaniel pleading for cake. She thought, ‘Oh, well, let her have it,’ and broke into a smile.

‘All right, Anna. But what do I do next — walk into the dining-room and say good morning as if nothing had happened?’

Anna nodded vigorously.

‘That will be the best thing. Yes, that will be much the best. I do not think that Miss Olivia will say anything. And if you say nothing and she says nothing’ — she brought her hands together with a clapping sound — ‘well, then there is nothing to be said. You have your breakfast in peace, you eat in peace. There is nothing at all so bad for the digestion as to quarrel when you are eating. No, no, no, for the good digestion there should be pleasant talk with friends, there should be smiles, there should be laughter. And that will do my poor Miss Cara good.’

Candida laughed.

‘A little optimistic, aren’t you, Anna? But I’ll do what I can for Aunt Cara’s sake.’

Anna smiled, nodded, and then turned suddenly grave again.

‘Oh, my poor Miss Cara!’ she said, and was in a hurry to go.

Seen by daylight the mark on Candida’s cheek really did show very little. Still it did show, and so did the scratch on her chin. She did what she could, yet when she met Derek on the stairs his eyebrows went up.

‘Hullo, what have you been doing to yourself? Had a rough house?’

She put her finger to her lip. There were footsteps on the landing above. As they glanced round, Miss Olivia came into sight. She wore a straight black woollen gown buttoned down the front, and a short coat of grey and violet stuff. Her hair shone. Her smooth sallow skin showed no trace of an emotional upset. She came down slowly and with her accustomed dignity to where they were waiting at the foot of the stairs. Arrived, she said good-morning first to Candida and then to Derek, and offered a cool cheek to each of them in turn.

Candida had not known that she would feel so much revulsion. The brief touch of that cold skin was horrible. It took her all she knew not to recoil from it.

Whatever Derek knew or didn’t know, he could always be counted on for a pleasant flow of words. He opined that it was going to be a fine day, and he talked about the party in a very lively manner. It did just occur to Candida that it wasn’t perhaps the safest subject in the world. Miss Olivia didn’t miss much, and she might have seen her step behind the curtain with Stephen. Perhaps she had. Perhaps that was at the back of her anger. Or if she had not actually seen them go, she might have missed them both and guessed that they were together. Impossible to say.

Miss Cara came down, shadowy in a replica of her sister’s clothes. And that was a mistake, for they made her look as if she had shrunk, or as if they really belonged to someone else.

When the little bustle of serving was over the talk went on again. Miss Cara said that it had been a nice evening, and that she had enjoyed seeing Louisa Arnold, but all in a little flat voice and without conviction.

Olivia Benevent sat up very straight.

‘Louisa is just as foolish and as voluble as she always was. She must have been a great trial to the Canon. But then Cathedral circles are always very gossipy, and I suppose he had become used to it.’

‘I always liked Louisa,’ said Miss Cara in a faint, obstinate voice. ‘I was very pleased to see her again. She was telling me that the cousin who is staying with her is really a very clever detective but she does not care about having it known.’

Miss Olivia gave a short scornful laugh.

‘Then how like Louisa to talk about it!’

Miss Cara persevered.

‘Her name is Maud Silver. Louisa says she has solved many difficult cases besides being an extremely expert knitter.’

It was when breakfast was over that Derek found himself summoned to the study. When the ladies had seated themselves Miss Olivia spoke in gracious tones.

‘We are very much pleased that you and Candida are now beginning to work at the family history.’

‘Well, she’s a lot better at it than I am.’

She smiled.

‘You will help each other, I have no doubt. It is not necessary to say who contributes the most. It is enough that you should be able to work pleasantly together. We have been very glad to see that you are making friends.’

Miss Cara echoed her.

‘We are so very glad.’

His attractive smile flashed out.

‘Well, I suppose you can say that we are both friendly people.’

Miss Olivia looked at him.

‘You would call Candida friendly?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘And attractive?’

He said, ‘Oh, very,’ and wondered where this was getting them.

‘She seemed to be a good deal admired last night. May I ask what terms you are on?’

‘Oh, the very best.’

Just as well to be hearty about it, but he did wish that she would stop.

She said in an alarmingly deliberate manner,

‘You would do well to consider whether they might not be even better.’ Then, after a pause, ‘Better — and closer.’

There didn’t seem to be any way out of asking her what she meant.

Miss Cara’s eyes went from one to the other, but she did not speak. He said,

‘I don’t think I know what you mean. We are very good friends.’

‘I mean that you might be something more.’

His ‘I don’t think so,’ set her frowning. She said very deliberately,

‘Candida is a Benevent. She is considered both pretty and charming. She will have a good deal of money.’ She forced her voice and made it say, ‘She will have Underhill.’

There was another pause. He would have to speak now, but just what was he going to say? Enough, but not too much. There was no sense in pulling the roof down over his head — nasty for him, nasty for Jenny, and nasty for Candida. He met Miss Cara’s anxious eyes. Her hands fluttered out a little towards him and drew back. Her ‘Don’t make Olivia angry’ was as plain as if the words had been spoken. He said,

‘Yes — ’

The frown deepened. Olivia Benevent spoke sharply.

‘My dear Derek, you are not really stupid, so why pretend that you are? You have already agreed with me that Candida is a charming girl, that she is much admired, and that you are very good friends. She comes of a family to which, I think we may say, you are already bound by ties of affection, and she will be a very considerable heiress. You are our adopted nephew. Owing to the terms on my grandfather’s will we are not in a position to make the provision for you which we should have wished. In an earlier and more practical age we should simply have arranged a marriage between you and our niece, and I have no doubt that it would have turned out very happily. As it is, all I can do is to point out the advantages of such a marriage.’

It was impossible to let her go on. He said in a protesting voice,

‘But my dears, she doesn’t care for me like that — she doesn’t really.’

Miss Olivia said, ‘Nonsense! You are here in the house with her — you have every opportunity of making love to her. But you are just throwing them away. I have been watching you, and you have simply been wasting your time. It cannot go on.’

He had remainded standing. He backed away now towards the window.

‘You know, you have got this all wrong — you really have. Candida wouldn’t have me if I asked her.’

‘You cannot know that unless you do ask her. She naturally would not make the first advances. She would expect you to let her see that you care for her.’

‘But I don’t. At least not like that.’

Miss Cara pressed a handkerchief to her eyes and spoke in a trembling voice.

‘She would make you very happy, my dear. She has a very kind heart.’

‘Dear Aunt Cara — ’

‘I have grown very fond of her. It would make me very happy.’

Well, there was nothing for it. He put out a hand towards them and said,

‘You know there is nothing I would like better than to please you, but it isn’t any good, because, you see, I am fond of somebody else.’

They sat and stared at him, a tear just trickling down Miss Cara’s cheek, Miss Olivia with a hard blank look. For once it was the elder sister who spoke first.

‘Oh, my dear boy!’

Olivia Benevent just went on looking at him. The silence had grown heavy before she said,

‘Indeed?’ Just the one word. And then, after a glacial pause, ‘Who is she?’

He was burning his boats, but he didn’t care. It was going to be worth everything to be able to say Jenny’s name out loud and have done with all the secrecy. You slip into it, and before you know where you are it is sliming you all over.

He said, ‘Jenny Rainsford,’ and Miss Olivia came back at him like the crack of a whip.

‘A young woman in a second-rate garage!’

‘You don’t know anything about her.’

‘I know what Louisa Arnold told me.’

‘No one could have told you anything that wasn’t good about Jenny — there isn’t anything else to tell! Her father died, and she worked for her sisters. If Miss Arnold told you anything, she told you that.’

‘She mentioned it. I am afraid it didn’t interest me. A girl who is left penniless would naturally have to work. I see nothing remarkable about that. And I am afraid that I do not admire her choice of what she would no doubt call a job. Louisa mentioned that her father was a gentleman. I should think he would have been a good deal distressed at his daughter’s deliberate descent into quite another class.’

Derek bit his lip. There was no sense in having a quarrel about it. It wouldn’t help Jenny, and they had been very good to him. He took a step towards the door, and all at once Olivia Benevent blazed.

‘Is this your gratitude? Is this the return you make for all we have done for you? Don’t you realise what you are throwing away? Do you think we shall still take an interest in you when you have gone down into the gutter? Do you imagine for one moment — ’

Her voice had risen to a scream, but he heard Miss Cara’s piteous ‘No, no!’ She put a hand on the arm of her chair and tried to rise, but before she had steadied herself to take even one step she gave a gasp and fell forward. If Derek had not been moving already he would not have been in time to catch her, but as it was, he did just manage to break her fall. It all went faster than it can be told. Derek exclaimed, Miss Olivia cried out sharply, and the door was opened. It disclosed Joseph standing just beyond the threshold. As he was afterwards to testify, what he saw was Miss Cara lying on the floor with Derek Burdon standing over her, and what he heard was Miss Olivia saying on a note of mounting hysteria,

‘You’ve killed her — you’ve killed her — you’ve killed her!’