The Mask of the Enchantress (40 page)

It seemed as though the gods of good fortune were offering me forgiveness on a plate.

It was a lovely euphoric experience. It made me feel that I was at liberty to fall in love with Malcolm, to marry him if he asked me and to live in peace for the rest of my life.

Perhaps in ten yearstime when we had grown together and we had our children, I would confess to him. By then there would be no question of his not understanding and he would forgive me readily.

Oh, it was a happy solution. It seemed possible that it could come about.

We laughed together; we worked together; and I was happy. We discussed the castle constantlyhat should be done and how we should do it. It was almost as though we were a partnership.

One day he said to me: ave you ever thought of marrying now that Esmond is dead?

I turned away. I dared not look at him. I knew that his feelings towards me were quite different from those he had had for Susannah, but that whenever we were on the point of getting to a closer understanding he would be repelled by some mystery he sensed between us. He could not believe in the change which had apparently come over Susannah and, while his emotions drew him to me, his common sense warned him against me. I think that sometimes he believed I would revert to the old ways and was asking himself whether I was playing a game of pretense. How right he was! And how often I considered making a confession. But I was afraid of losing him. I wanted to bind him so close to me that he could not escape, even if what I had done did fill him with horror. The force of my emotions was strong, as I believed his could be, but the guilt in me and the distrust in him lay between us like a two-edged sword.

I murmured: arriage is something not to be undertaken lightly. You, who have never married, agree with that, I am sure.

certainly have always felt it was a state into which one should not enter lightly. Esmond death would have been a terrible blow to you. Was it?

I turned my head away, feigning emotion.

e was besotted about you,he went on. always felt sorry for him. You were so different then. Like another person. I should have been envious now.

I raised my eyes to his face. I so much wanted him to put his arms about me and tell me he loved me.

He took me by the shoulders and shook me slightly.

omething happened, Susannah!he cried. hat? For God sake tell me.

I wanted to confess then. I dared not though. I was as unsure of him as he was of me.

y father died,I said quietly. t was a great shock.

He dropped his arms. He didn believe me. That was not what he wanted to hear.

With a gesture of exasperation he released me.

He said no more, but I assured myself that one day soon he would. Perhaps he would ask me to marry him and then what should I do? Dare I confess?

Then I began to reason with myself. Why should there be need for confession? In marrying me he would automatically share the castle.

Why shouldn that be the answer? Fate was offering me a way out.

Perhaps I should have known that was too good to be true. Life does not work out as smoothly as that.

I found the letters in a bureau in Susannah room. It was a beautiful eighteenth-century piece which I had admired from the moment I saw it. It had several drawers which I used for the papers and diaries I had from Esmond room.

I often went through these. They had been invaluable in teaching me about people on the estate and I found it very useful to study them.

I was in a state of euphoria, having spent almost the entire day in Malcolm company. I had called in at the Chiversescottage and heard that all was well there; I saw that the curtains from the castle looked very grand and realized that they were a source of delight to Leah; but what I knew pleased her most was my interest in her. She looked upon me as a sort of protectress and that touched me deeply.

So I was ready for bed and I went to the drawer to get out the papers. I intended to sit up in bed and go through them, which had become a habit of mine. I opened the drawer and as I took them out I saw that some had become wedged in. I pulled at them, but they did not come away, so I knelt on my hands and knees to see if I could discover what was holding them.

I pulled gently and still they did not come away. I put in my hand to see if I could feel what was holding them. They were jammed. If I pulled the drawer right out I would release them. This I did. Then I realized that there was a secret drawer behind the one in which I had kept the papers. I put in my hand and drew it out. In it was a thin roll of paper tied up with red tape. I untied this and unrolled the paper. I saw that they were letters. My heart started to pound, for I realized they had been written to Susannah.

I knelt there for some seconds with them in my hands. I was not by nature a person who listened at doors or read other people correspondence and I hesitated now as I had over Esmond diaries.

Some instinct told me that these letters might contain vital information and that I must not be squeamish. I put back the secret drawer and pushed the other one into place in front of it and, chiding myself for being so foolish as to hesitate, I took the letters to my bed.

There I read them and after I had done so I lay awake considering their content. They had shattered me, those letters. I could only guess who had written them, but it seemed to me there was only one person who could have done so.

They were dated and in order, so I knew they had been written to Susannah just before she left England for Australia.

The first read:

Dearest and Most Wonderful (hereinafter and forever more known as D.M.W.) What bliss to be with you as we were last night. I never dreamed it could be so. And the best is yet to come. You have to do your part though and it won be long. Wedding bells and the two of us herehe King and Queen of the Castle. You know how to deal with S.C. Hel do anything you ask. He besotted. Clever of you to have reduced him to that state. Keep him like it. I don ask how, but I understand and Il try not to be jealous of your rural lover. We need his help to get the needful, for it has to come from a source where it can be traced just in case. If he supplied it, hel be involved. Not that it will come to that. Wee going to see that it works smoothly.

D.M.W., Il have to write to you, for it won do for me to be around at this time. You never know. We might betray something. So burn any letters I write as soon as you have read them. In that way I can write frankly. Let me know when S.C. gives you what we need. A pity he has to be brought in, but wel deal with that after. The King and Queen will act.

To the day, my love.

Devoted Slave and Constant Lover (hereafter D.S.C.L.)

I went on to the next.

D.M.W.,

So S.C. is holding off. Hasn got it, he says. Youl have to get it from him. Tell him you want it for a face wash. They are bound to use it for something on the farm. Wheedle it out of him. I getting jealous. I think youe rather fond of him. I am sure you act your part well, but let get this over and then no more of it, eh? I wish we could marry, but you won, I suppose, until the coast is clear. You were always a devil, D.M.W. You want to keep one foot in each camp, don you? Youe not going to let go of Cousin E. until he laid to rest. You want to be supreme, don you? Remember I of the same blood. You know wee a reckless, scheming, ambitious brood. Mateland of Mateland. Burn this letter and all my letters. Get the stuff from S.C. and then make sure you use it. I getting impatient for you. I long for the day when we are you know where together.

My D.M.W.

Your D.S.C.L.

And the last one:

D.M.W.,

Have been frantically waiting to hear. What went wrong? Your mixture was not strong enough. Of course I know you had to avoid suspicion. Near to death that not good enough, is it? And S.C. quitting this life in that melodramatic way. A pity we had to use him. Still, youe right. We must not attempt it again for a long time. Yes, I agree a year say. Then he can develop the same illness. That sounds very plausible. Who would have thought S.C. would have been such a fool? Let hope he hasn talked. That sort do sometimes. They make confessions. I wish we could have got the stuff without him. Too awkward though buying it or getting it through another source. We had covered our tracks well and then that fool calls attention to himself by that!

Now take heed, D.M.W. I like your plan. Youe going away somewhere. Youe going to look for your father, having discovered his whereabouts. That fine. You shouldn be there when it happens again. Fair enough. But I can lose you all that time. Il come out with you and then back and in a year time wel have the whole thing settled. We have to be patient. We have to think of what the reward will be you and I where we belong together.

It really foolish to set all this down on paper, but I am foolish where youe concerned as you are with me. Wee fooled them all with our battles. Wel go on fooling them. Youl hear when it done and then youl come home and you and I will find that our antipathy was a mistake. We loved each other all the time. Wedding bells and the castle ours. Mateland forever.

Burn this as you have the rest. Do you realize that this letter could condemn us? But so do I trust you. In any case we are in this together.

Il be at the castle very soon now and you will be making your plans to leave. Be very loving to Esmond. But get away. The Cs may be awkward.

With you soon,

Your D.S.C.L.

I was shattered. Those letters betrayed so much. Esmond had been murdered. He was the victim of Susannah and her lover.

Susannah had attempted to kill him and her lover had succeeded in doing so, thus making Susannah mistress of the castle. Susannah had seduced Saul Cringle and he had provided her with the poison from which Esmond had diedresumably arsenic since there had been mention of a cosmetic. And she had been careless enough to leave these lettersncriminating as they weren the secret drawer in her bureau, in spite of her lover urgent injunction to destroy them. So I had found them. How careless she had been. But perhaps she had had some ulterior motive in preserving the letters.

I was trying to hold off the overwhelming fact that had come out of all this. I did not want to examine it. I dared not.

I thought of being shut in the barn and seeing that horrible thing dangling from the rafters. One thing was obvious. The Cringles knew that Susannah had been involved with Saul and, believing me to be Susannah, had confronted me with that horror.

It was an explosive situation.

But staring me in the face was the fear which I could no longer evade. One sentence kept dancing before my eyes. emember I of the same blood.

There was only one person who could have written that. Malcolm!

So he must know that I was an impostor. He must, for his letters revealed how close he had been to Susannah. He could not have mistaken me for her. Besides, considering their relationship, it was quite clear that he knew I was masquerading as her. Then why did he not expose me? If he did, the castle would be his. Why did he let me go on with the pretense? What did it mean? What had I walked into? I was a cheat, I knew. I was posing as another woman. But Malcolm, the man with whom I had fallen in love, was a murderer.

I could see no other possibility.

Malcolm was Susannah devoted slave and constant lover. He was playing some game. What?

I felt sick with fear.

He must know that Susannah was dead, and he was a murderer. He was a clever actor. He must be to be able to delude me as he did. He cared for the castle. Of course it was for the castle he had done what he had.

And yet why did he not claim it now?

With Susannah dead, he could inherit. Why had he not exposed me?

Thoughts chased themselves round and round in my head. I did not sleep at all that night. I just lay there tossing and turning, waiting for the dawn.

I was filled with fear. I knew that some terrible climax was about to break.

I saw no one at breakfast. I went out to the woods. I could not face Malcolm. It seemed to me that he, no less than I, had been wearing a mask. When that strong and pleasant face was removed, what was beneath it? Something cold and cunning, shrewd, cruel, sensual and murderous.

I could not bear it. I had been so utterly deceived. I wanted to stop thinking of him, and yet I could not. I had already allowed my feelings to become too much involved. Moreover, I was not merely a girl who had put her trust in a man cynical man, capable of the vilest deeds was one who was herself tainted by dishonesty.

What a fool I had been! What a tangled web I had woven, and I was at the center of this mystery, intrigue and murder.

I must make things appear normal.

I returned to the castle for luncheon. Malcolm, I was thankful to see, was not there. He had left word to say that he was lunching with Jeff Carleton.

Emerald and I lunched alone.

I listened to an account of her sleepless night and her inability to rest her back. Then I heard her saying: e written to Garth to tell him youe here. It such a long time since he been. He probably feels disinclined to come here now that his mother has gone.

After luncheon I went out again. I went into the woods and lay there, looking at the castle and thinking again of that magic day of my childhood. I suppose that was when it all started.

But how different I was now from that young and innocent child!

When I went back to the house Janet was in my room putting some things she had washed away in a drawer.

y goodness,she said. ou look as if youe lost a sovereign and found a penny piece.

all right,I replied. a bit tired. I didn sleep well last night.

She studied me in that way which I deeply resented.

say you didn! Anything wrong, Miss Susannah?

o,I said blithely. othing at all.

She nodded and went on putting the things away.

I heard the arrival of a rider in the distance. I went to my window and saw Malcolm. He pulled up his horse and paused for a moment looking at the castle. I could imagine the satisfaction on his face. He loved the castle as Susannah had, and as I was beginning to. It was haunted, this castle, haunted by the people who had lived in itainly the family of Mateland to which Malcolm, Susannah and I all belonged.