Snare of Serpents Page 4

  “It was in Miss Milne’s room, sir.”

  I looked at Lilias. Her face had turned scarlet; and then it was deathly pale. It was as though a voice was clanging in my head. “A nest egg … a nest egg …”

  It could not be Lilias.

  Everyone was looking at her.

  My father said: “Miss Milne, can you explain how the necklace came to be in your drawer?”

  “In … my drawer … it couldn’t have been.”

  “But Ellen has just told us it was. And here it is. Come, Miss Milne, an explanation is needed.”

  “I … I didn’t put it there. I … can’t understand.”

  My father was looking at her severely. “It won’t do, Miss Milne, I want an explanation.”

  I heard myself say in a high-pitched hysterical voice: “There must be some reason …”

  “Of course, there is a reason,” said my father impatiently. “Miss Milne will give it to us. You took the necklace, did you not, Miss Milne? Unfortunately for you, you did not shut the drawer properly so Ellen saw that something was wrong. That was fortunate for us … but not for you.”

  I have never seen such horror in any face as I saw in Lilias’ then.

  How could you? I thought. I would always have helped you. Why did you take the necklace? And my father knows! My father is the sort of man who will not tolerate any sin—and stealing is a great sin. “Thou shalt not steal.” It is one of the commandments. Think of Kitty. Hamish, of course, was all right, but then he was a good coachman.

  I wanted this nightmare to be over. The silence was terrible. It was broken by my father. “I am waiting for an explanation, Miss Milne.”

  “I … I do not know how it came to be there. I did not know it was there …”

  My father laughed softly but derisively.

  “It will not do, Miss Milne. You have been discovered. I could, of course, hand you over to the police.”

  She caught her breath. I thought she was going to faint. I had to restrain myself from going to her and putting my arms around her and telling her that whatever she had done she was my friend.

  She raised her eyes and looked at me … pleadingly … asking me to believe her. And in that moment I did. I could not believe that Lilias would ever have stolen my necklace even though she so longed to have some bulwark against a needy future … a nest egg. I marvelled that I could ever have doubted her innocence and loathed myself for having done so.

  “This is a crime,” went on my father. “All these years you have been in my household and I have been harbouring a thief. It is very distressing to me.”

  “I did not,” cried Lilias. “I did not. Someone put it there.”

  “Indeed someone put it there,” retorted my father grimly. “You, Miss Milne. You are the daughter of a vicar. You must have had a religious upbringing. That makes the matter so much worse.”

  “You are condemning me without question.” Lilias’ eyes flashed. It was the spirit of desperation. Who could have put the necklace in her room? What was the point of it? If someone had taken it, of what use would it be to steal it and give it up … just to accuse Lilias?

  “I have asked you for an explanation,” went on my father, “but you have none.”

  “I can only say I did not take the necklace.”

  “Then explain how it came to be in your room.”

  “I can only say that I did not put it there.”

  “Miss Milne, as I said, I could prosecute you. You could then give your explanations in a court of law. But because of your family and the fact that you have been in this house for so many years during which time no thefts have been discovered against you, I am taking a lenient view. I will say that you were overcome by a sudden temptation … and you submitted to it. So … I am going to ask you to pack your bags and leave this house at once. Mrs. Kirkwell will accompany you and make sure that you take nothing with you which does not belong to you.”

  She looked at him with hatred. “How can you? How can you judge me so unfairly? I will not be treated like a criminal.”

  “You would prefer to have your case judged in court?”

  She covered her face with her hands, and then, without another word, turned and went out of the room.

  My father said: “This is regrettable but the matter is closed.”

  Closed? With Lilias dismissed for theft! Her reputation was tarnished. She would live her life in fear of the fact that she had been accused of stealing would be brought to light.

  I went to her room. She was sitting on her bed staring gloomily before her. I ran to her and put my arms about her.

  “Oh, Lilias … Lilias,” I cried. “This is awful. / believe you.”

  “Thank you, Davina,” she said. “Who could have done this to me? What could be the point?”

  “I don’t know. First poor Kitty and now you. It’s as though there is some horrible curse on this house. It’s ever since my mother died.”

  “I shall have to go home and tell them. How can I do that?”

  “Your father will understand. He will believe you. He is a Christian.”

  “I shall be a burden to them. I shall never be able to get another post.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they will want to know where I have been … why I left.”

  “Couldn’t you say I was getting old. It’s true.”

  “They would get into touch with your father.”

  “Perhaps he would say nothing.”

  She laughed mirthlessly. “Of course he would say something. He would consider it unrighteous not to. He is so holy that he cannot give a woman a chance to defend herself. People like him love to find sin in others. They are so eager to find it that they see it where it does not exist. It makes them feel even more good … thanking God they are not like other men.”

  “Oh, Lilias, it is going to be so miserable without you. I wish I had never seen that necklace.”

  “I should have stood up for myself. I should never have allowed myself to be accused of something of which I am completely innocent. I should have dared him to prove it.”

  “Oh, Lilias, why didn’t you?”

  “It could have been even worse. He didn’t believe me. Perhaps others wouldn’t. If he had called in the police … people would have known. The disgrace would have been terrible … for my father. I could see that I had to get away …”

  “You must write to me, Lilias. Give me your address. You did tell me, but I want it written down. I’m going to find out who took the necklace out of my room and put it in yours. I know someone did. Perhaps it was Hamish.”

  “Why? Just because he was caught with Kitty? This isn’t the same thing. I could understand his stealing the necklace, but if he had done so he would want to sell it right away. There isn’t any reason why he should try to incriminate me.”

  “Perhaps he wanted revenge. Had you done something he didn’t like?”

  “I hardly know him. He never even looks at me.”

  “Someone must have done it. What about Ellen?”

  “Why? What would be the point?”

  “Whichever way you look at it, there seems to be no reason.”

  “Thank you, Davina, for your trust. I shall never forget it.”

  “Oh, Lilias. It’s what I’ve dreaded … your going away. Though … I never thought it would be like this.”

  “Write to me and I’ll write to you. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “At least you have your family to go to. They’ll be kind and understanding.”

  “They will believe in my innocence. They will never believe that I could be a thief.”

  Mrs. Kirkwell came in. She looked grim and resolute.

  “Miss Davina!” she said reprovingly, surprised, I supposed, to find me there.

  “I think this is a great mistake,” I said.

  Mrs. Kirkwell ignored that and said: “What about this packing? I see you haven’t begun yet.”

  I went back to my room. I thoug
ht of all that had happened in a short time: my mother’s death, Kitty’s misdemeanour which had resulted in her dismissal—and now Lilias.

  How DREARY the house was without her. She had been my special friend for so long, and I had known that I would miss her; what I had not realised was how much. I felt very melancholy.

  A few days after Lilias had left, my father sent for me. He was in his study, unsmiling and forbidding.

  “I wanted to speak to you, Davina,” he said. “It is about a governess.”

  I stared at him. For the moment I thought he had discovered the real thief and let myself fancy that Lilias was coming back.

  “You are not yet fully educated,” he went on. “I had considered the idea of sending you away to a finishing school, but I have decided against that. So there will be a governess.”

  “A new governess, but …”

  He looked at me with faint exasperation.

  “A new one, of course. I myself will make sure that this time I engage someone who is reliable and is not going to shock us all by stealing our property.”

  I flushed and began: “I do not believe …”

  He went on as though I had not spoken: “This one will be able to teach a great deal you should know. Deportment, good manners. It will not be so much a schoolroom governess as someone who will be able to equip you with social graces.”

  I was not listening. How foolish of me to think even for a moment that he was going to say that Lilias was coming back.

  “Miss Grey will be arriving at the end of the week.”

  “Miss Grey …”

  The irritation showed again. “I am sure that Miss Grey will give every satisfaction.”

  I came out of the study, dazed and very sad.

  I knew I was not going to like Miss Grey. How should I stop comparing her with Lilias?

  And a few days later Miss Zillah Grey arrived.

  The Governess

  THE HOUSEHOLD was in a state of disbelief. Miss Zillah Grey astonished them all; and what was most amazing was that my father had engaged her.

  She was the sort of person whom people would turn to look at when they passed her in the street. She had what I can only call a flaunting manner. Her clothes, her gestures, everything about her seemed to be saying “Look at me.”

  She was definitely not what Mrs. Kirkwell would call “ladylike” but she was very affable to everyone and within a short time of our acquaintance she was calling me “dear.” I had thought I should hate Lilias’ successor, but I could not hate Zillah Grey. I could only marvel at her.

  She had brought a great many clothes with her … all of them quite unsuitable, I should have thought.

  When I had taken her to her room on her arrival she had looked round and said she knew she was going to be happy. Then she had taken off her hat and removed the pins from her hair; she shook it out so that it fell in seductive waves about her shoulders like a reddish cloak.

  “That’s better,” she said. “You see I’m making myself at home.”

  I was amazed by the pots and bottles which were soon arrayed on the dressing table. I had thought there might have been some books in her baggage, but there was no sign of even one. She hung up her clothes and asked for more coat hangers.

  Bess was amazed. I could imagine what she was telling them in the kitchen.

  When my father came in he asked if Miss Grey had arrived and when he was told that she had, he said he would see her in his study at once.

  I saw her going down the stairs. She had piled her hair high on her head, which made her look very tall, and I noticed that she had reddened her lips.

  I was certain that he would decide she was most unsuitable. I was sorry in a way for, although I deeply regretted Lilias’ departure, I felt it would be more interesting to have a governess like Miss Grey than the normal kind.

  I wondered what the servants were thinking. Lilias was no longer there to tell me what they said. But I was sure there would be marked disapproval from the Kirkwells.

  The interview with my father lasted over an hour. I was surprised, expecting it to be brief. When it was over my father sent for me.

  He was looking rather pleased, I thought, and I wondered what that meant.

  “So,” he said. “Your new governess is here. She has met you, she says.”

  “Yes. I took her to her room and we talked a little.”

  “Good. I am sure she will be of great benefit to you.”

  I was astonished. How could he think that?

  He said to me: “She will dine with us. It seems to me the most suitable arrangement.”

  “You … er … approve of her?”

  He looked pained. “I am of the opinion that she will teach you a great many things you should know.”

  It was extraordinary. Was it because I was comparing her with the really rather conventional Lilias that I found her so strange? My father, obviously, did not.

  She appeared at dinner that night in a black dress which fitted her figure rather closely. She had what Lilias had referred to as “an hourglass figure.” Her red hair was wound round her head in what was meant to be a severe fashion—but somehow it was quite the reverse on her.

  My father was gracious. It was more like having a guest to dinner than a governess.

  He said: “Of course, you have not yet had an opportunity to assess Davina’s capabilities, but when you have you will be able to decide what is best for her.”

  “Davina and I are going to get along wonderfully,” she replied, smiling at him.

  “Her governess left in rather a hurry. I fancy she was not entirely competent.”

  I could not resist cutting in. “Miss Milne was a very good governess, Papa. She made learning interesting.”

  “And that is what it should be, of course,” said Miss Grey. “And that is how I intend to make it.”

  “I suppose my daughter will be having some sort of season. But that, of course, is a little way ahead. We can wait until after her seventeenth birthday before we need to consider that.”

  “I am sure you are right.”

  The conversation went along on conventional lines. I gathered Miss Grey had recently come to Edinburgh. Her home had been in London.

  “And what do you think of our Scottish ways?” my father asked almost playfully.

  “I think they are divine,” she answered.

  I glanced at him, wondering whether he would think this blasphemous in some way. It was a strange word to use. But she lowered her eyes so that the fanlike black lashes lay demurely against her skin; the full red lips smiled and the little nose and long upper lip looked more kittenish than ever. My father’s look was indulgent. His lips twitched a little as they used to when my mother said something which amused him and at the same time shocked him a little.

  “I hope,” he said, “that you will continue to do so.” I left them together over coffee in the drawing room. It was an extraordinary evening. Everything seemed so different now … even my father.

  DURING THE NEXT WEEKS, although I spent a good deal of time with Zillah Grey, I felt I did not really learn a great deal about her. She seemed like two different people … no, more than two. She appeared to be able to slip into different personalities with the greatest of ease. With my father she played the ladylike person who is suddenly confronted with the need to earn a living. That was characteristic of most governesses; but with her it was different. They were usually quietly retiring, very much aware of their reduced circumstances, unsure where they belonged, poised between upstairs and down. Zillah Grey, although she had a habit of lowering her eyes, did not strike me as modest. I suspected she did it because it was an excellent way of calling attention to those long thick eyelashes. She was certainly not without guile. She knew exactly how to behave with my father and he approved of her wholeheartedly.

  With me her attitude was more volatile. Sometimes she threw off all pretence. She would laugh uproariously and I noticed her accent changed a little—her words be
came more racy.

  It soon became clear that there were to be no set lessons.

  “What I have to do is prepare you for society, so your father tells me,” she announced.

  I was amazed. I could not imagine her being a great success in Edinburgh society, or even being accepted into it. What was she going to teach me?

  I asked her what I needed to know.

  “Clothes for one thing,” she said. “You have to make the best of yourself. You could be quite good-looking.”

  “Could be?” I said. “Surely one either is or one isn’t?”

  She winked at me. She had a habit of doing that when she was in certain moods. “That’s one of the things I’m going to teach you. Oh, we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

  She said I ought to learn to dance. “Ballroom dancing, of course,” she added. “Is there anyone here who can play the piano?”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve had lessons. Miss Milne, my last governess, played well.”

  “Well, you can’t play and dance at the same time, can you? I’ll have to see what we can do about that. I can knock out a bit of a tune myself. I wonder if there’s someone who could partner you.”

  “You mean one of the maids?”

  “We’ll see about that. I’ll teach you how to walk.”

  “To walk?”

  “Gracefully. How to make the best of yourself.”

  “What about lessons … books and all that?”

  She wrinkled her kitten’s nose and laughed. “We’ll see about that, shall we?”

  She made her own rules. Often she went out and stayed out for several hours. I had no idea where she went.

  “It’s a funny way of going on, if you ask me,” said Mrs. Kirkwell. “I mentioned it to the master and got a flea in my ear for my pains. I don’t know what the world’s coming to.”

  It was certainly a strange situation.

  Only a week after she arrived she asked that the carriage should take her somewhere one afternoon. Hamish arrived at the door just as though she were a member of the family.

  The Kirkwells were watching from one of the windows when I came upon them.

  “What’s all this about?” she was demanding of her husband, unaware of my presence.