Curse of the Kings Page 7

  "You could become friends with her again and when she marries . . . you see what I mean? Miss Theodosia wants a companion and who better than her old friend. What do you think of it?"

  "Machiavellian!" I said.

  "You can laugh. But I wouldn't like to think of spending my life looking after an old tartar like that."

  "Suppose Theodosia doesn't marry?"

  "Theodosia not marry! Of course she will. Why they've got the man for her already. I heard Sir Ralph talking to her ladyship about it. Quite a to do there was. She said: 'You've got an obsession with those people. I think you wanted Hadrian for Sabina.'"

  "Oh?" I said faintly.

  "I wouldn't mind taking a bet with you, Miss Osmond, that before the year's out the engagement will be announced. After all there's a title. Money, well I'm not so sure of that, but Miss Theodosia will have enough, won't she? When her father dies she'll inherit everything I reckon. Why she'll be one of the richest young ladies in the country. Of course, I wouldn't say they're exactly poor, but money's always useful and they say that he has poured a fortune into this work of his. A funny way of squandering your money I must say. When you think of what you can do with it ... and it all goes in digging up the ground in foreign places. They say some of those places are so hot you can hardly bear it."

  I said, although I knew the answer already: "So for Theodosia they've chosen . . . ?"

  "The son, of course. Mr. Tybalt Travers. Oh yes, he's the one they've chosen for Theodosia."

  I could scarcely bear to sit there and listen to her chatter.

  Sir Edward and Tybalt had returned to Giza House and they came to dine at Keverall Court. I contrived to be in the hall when they arrived, pretending to arrange some flowers.

  Tybalt said: "It's Miss Osmond, isn't it?" As though he had to look twice to make sure. "How are you?"

  "I'm the companion now, you know."

  "Yes, I heard. Are you still reading?"

  "Avidly. Mrs. Grey is so helpful."

  "Good. Father, this is Miss Osmond."

  Sir Edward gave me his vague look.

  "She's the one who dressed up as the mummy. She wanted to know what it felt like to be embalmed and placed in a sarcophagus. She's read several of your books." Now Sir Edward's attention was on me. His eyes twinkled. I think the mummy adventure amused him. He was more like Tybalt now.

  I wished that I could have stayed there talking to them. Lady Bodrean had appeared at the top of the staircase. I wondered whether she had heard my voice.

  "My dear Sir Edward . . . and Tybalt!" She swept down the stairs. "I thought I heard you talking to the companion."

  I went to my room then and stayed there all the evening. A respite from my tyrant because she was busy with her guests. I pictured them at the dinner table and Theodosia looking pretty in pink satin—gentle, amenable, with an immense fortune which would be so useful in financing expeditions to exotic places.

  I don't think I ever felt quite so hopeless as at that moment, and with the recent encounter with Tybalt fresh in my mind—which confirmed everything I had ever thought him—I was more certain than ever that he was the only man for me. I asked myself whether I should offer my resignation without delay.

  But, of course, that was not my nature. Until he was married to Theodosia I would continue to dream . . . and hope.

  I walked the dogs over to Giza House and as I did so a voice called "Judith."

  I turned and there was Evan Callum coming out of Giza House.

  "Judith," he cried, his hand outstretched to take mine, "this is a pleasure."

  "I heard you were coming," I said. "It is so good to see you.

  "And how is everything with you?"

  "Changed," I said.

  "And not for the better?"

  "The rector died. You know that Oliver married Sabina, and I am now companion to Lady Bodrean."

  He grimaced.

  "Ah," I said with a smile, "I see you have an inkling of what that means."

  "I worked in the house once, you remember, as a sort of tutor to you all. Fortunately my work did not come under her jurisdiction. Poor Judith!"

  "I tell myself fifty times a day not to be sorry for myself. So if I'm not you must not be."

  "But I am. You were the best of my pupils. You had such an enthusiasm; and that is one of the greatest assets in this profession."

  "Are you accompanying them on this expedition?"

  "Unfortunately, no. I'm not experienced enough for such an honor. There'll be much coming and going between Keverall and Giza, I believe. Sir Ralph is being persuaded to help finance the project."

  "He was always vitally interested. I hope they'll succeed in getting what they want."

  "Tybalt has no doubt of it." He looked round him: "How this brings back the old days. You, Hadrian, Theodosia, Sabina. Oddly enough the one who was least interested was Sabina. Have they changed?"

  "Sabina has become the rector's wife. I see very little of her. My duties do not give me much time. I visit Dorcas and Alison when I can manage it and I come over here to see Mrs. Grey who has been so kind in lending me books."

  "On our subject of course."

  "Of course."

  "Good. I could not bear for you to tire. I hear Hadrian will be home at the end of the week."

  "I didn't know. I am not told such things."

  "Poor Judith. Life's unfair sometimes."

  "Perhaps I've had my share of luck. Did you know that I was found on a train?"

  "An abandoned child!"

  "Not exactly. It was in an accident. My parents were killed and no one claimed me. I might have gone to an orphanage . . . never have met any of you . . . never have found a piece of a Bronze Age shield and never read any of the books from Giza House."

  "I always thought you were the rector's distant cousin."

  "Many people did. Dorcas and Alison thought it would be kinder to let it be known that I was some sort of distant relation. But I was unknown. And my great piece of luck was that they took me in and life was wonderful until now. Perhaps I have to pay now for that marvelous piece of luck I had in the beginning. Do you think life works out like that?"

  "No," he said. "This is just a phase. They come to all of us. But Theodosia's at Keverall, and she's a friend of yours. She would never be unkind, I'm sure."

  "No, but I see little of her. I am always kept so busy dancing attendance on her Mamma."

  He gave me a compassionate look.

  "Poor Judith," he said, "perhaps it will not always be so. I shall hope things change for you. We must meet . . . often."

  "Oh, but the social barriers will be set up between us because when you visit Keverall Court you will come as a guest."

  "I should soon leap over any barrier they put between us," he assured me.

  He said he would walk with me and I was greatly comforted by his return to St. Erno's.

  Hadrian arrived at the end of the week. I was in the garden whither I had been sent to gather roses when he saw me and called to me.

  "Judith!" He took my hand and we studied each other.

  Hadrian had become good-looking—or perhaps he had always been so and I had not particularly noticed before. His thick brown hair grew too low on his forehead—or did I think it was too low because one of Tybalt's most striking features was his high forehead? There was something inherently pleasant in Hadrian and however bitter he became the twinkle was never far from his blue-grey eyes. He was of medium height and broad-shouldered; and when he greeted me, his eyes always lit up in a manner which I found comforting. I felt that Hadrian was one of the people on whom I could rely.

  "You've become a scholar, Hadrian," I said.

  "You've become a flatterer. And a companion I To my aunt. How could you, Judith!"

  "It's very easily explained. If one does not inherit money one needs to earn it. I am doing precisely that."

  "But you a companion! Cutting roses ... I bet you always cut the wrong ones!"

  "How
right you are! These red ones, I am sure, should have been yellow. But I have the consolation of knowing that had I picked yellow, red would have been the chosen color."

  "My aunt's a tyrant! I know. I don't think it's right that you should be doing this. Who suggested it?"

  "Your uncle. And we have to be truly grateful to him for had he not arranged that I should come here, I should be cutting roses or performing some such duty for some other tyrant possibly miles from here—so I shouldn't be chatting with you, nor have seen Evan and er . . ."

  "It's a shame," said Hadrian hotly. "And you of all people. You were always such a bully."

  "I know. It's just retribution. The bully now bullied. Hoist with her own petard. Still, it's pleasant to know that some members of the household don't regard me as a pariah now that I have to perform the humiliating task of earning a living."

  Theodosia came into the garden. She was in white muslin with pale blue dots and she wore a white straw hat with blue ribbons. She's grown quite pretty, I realized.

  "I was thinking that it's like old times now we're all together," said Hadrian. "Evan and Tybalt ..." I noticed that Theodosia blushed slightly, and I thought of Jane's words. It was true then. No, it couldn't be! Not Tybalt and Theodosia. It was incongruous. But she was almost pretty; she was suitable; and she was an heiress. Surely Tybalt would not marry for money. But of course he would. It was the natural order of things. Sabina had not married for money, for Oliver as rector would have little of that useful commodity. How we had changed, all of us. Frivolous Sabina becoming the rector's wife; plain Theodosia to marry my wonderful Tybalt; and myself, the proud one, the one who had taken charge of the school room, to be the companion whose daily bread was service and humiliation.

  "Evan, Tybalt, myself, you, Judith, and Sabina and Oliver in their rectory," Hadrian was saying.

  "Yes," said Theodosia. She looked at me rather shyly apologetic because she had seen so little of me since I had come to Keverall Court. "It's . . . it's nice to have Judith here."

  "Is it?" I said.

  "But of course. You were always one of us, weren't you?"

  "But now I am the companion merely."

  "Oh, you've been listening to Mamma."

  "I have to. It's part of the job."

  "Mamma can be difficult."

  "You don't have to be with her all the time," comforted Hadrian.

  "There seems very little time when I'm not."

  "We'll have to change that, won't we, Theodosia?"

  Theodosia nodded and smiled.

  These encounters lifted my spirits. It was to some extent a return to the old ways.

  There was a great deal of talk about the coming ball.

  "This will be the biggest we've had for years," Jane told me. "Miss Theodosia's coming out." She gave me her wink. "Timed, you see, when all these people are here. Lady B. is hoping there'll be an announcement before they go off to Egypt."

  "Do you think that Mr. Travers would take his bride with him?"

  "There won't be time for that by all accounts. There'll have to be the sort of wedding that takes months to prepare for, I reckon. Her ladyship wouldn't stand for anything else. No quiet little wedding like Sabina and the new rector had. Lady B. wouldn't let her only daughter go like that."

  "Well," I said, "we haven't got them betrothed yet, have we?"

  "Any day now, mark my words."

  I began to believe she was right when I talked to Theodosia, who since the return of Hadrian was seeing far more of me than she had before. She seemed as though she wanted to make up to me for previously keeping out of my way.

  The only time Lady Bodrean was the least bit affable to me was when she talked of Theodosia's coming out ball; I knew at once that she was hoping to make me envious. Theodosia could have had all the balls she wanted if she had left me Tybalt.

  "You might go along to the sewing room," Lady Bodrean told me, "and give Sarah Sloper a hand. There are fifty yards of lace to be sewn onto my daughter's ball gown. And in an hour's time I shall be ready for the reading and don't forget before you go, to walk Orange and Lemon."

  Sarah Sloper was too good a dressmaker to allow me to put a stitch into her creation. There it was on the table—a froth of soft blue silk chiffon with the fifty yards of pale blue lace.

  Theodosia was there for a fitting, so I helped get her into the dress. She was going to look lovely in it, I thought with a pang. I could imagine her floating round the ballroom in the arms of Tybalt.

  "Do you like it, Judith?" she asked.

  "The color is most becoming."

  "I love dancing," she said. She waltzed round and I felt we were back in the schoolroom. I went to her and bowed. "Miss Bodrean, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"

  She made a deep curtsy. I seized her and we danced round the room while Sarah Sloper watched us with a grin.

  "How delightful you look tonight, Miss Bodrean."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "How gracious of you to thank me for the gifts nature has bestowed on you."

  "Oh Judith you haven't changed a bit. I wish . . ."

  Sarah Sloper had jumped to her feet suddenly and was bobbing a curtsy for Sir Ralph was standing in the doorway watching us dance.

  Our dance came to an immediate halt. I wondered what he would say to see the companion dancing so familiarly with his daughter.

  He was clearly not annoyed: "Rather graceful, didn't you think, Sarah?" he said.

  "Why yes, sir, indeed, sir," stammered Sarah.

  "So that's your ball dress, is it?"

  "Yes, Father."

  "And what about Miss Osmond, eh? Has she a ball dress?"

  "I have not," I said.

  "And why not?"

  "Because a person in my position has no great use for such a garment."

  I saw the familiar wag of the chin.

  "Oh yes," he said, "you're the companion now. I hear of you from Lady Bodrean."

  "Then I doubt you hear anything to my advantage."

  I don't know why I was speaking to him in that way. It was an irresistible impulse even though I knew that I was being what would be termed insolent from one in my position and was imperiling my job.

  "Very little," he assured me, with a lugubrious shake of the head. "In fact nothing at all."

  "I feared so."

  "Now do you? That's a change. I always had the impression that you were a somewhat fearless young lady." His bristling brows came together. "I don't see anything of you. Where do you get to?"

  "I don't move in your circles, sir," I replied, realizing now that he at least bore me no malice and was rather amused at my pert retorts.

  "I begin to think that's rather a pity."

  "Father, do you like my gown?" asked Theodosia.

  "Very pretty. Blue, is it?"

  "Yes, Father."

  He turned to me. "If you had one what color would it be?"

  "It would be green, Father," said Theodosia. "It was always Judith's favorite color."

  "That's said to be unlucky," he replied. "Or it was in my day. They used to say 'Green on Monday, Black on Friday.' But I'll swear Miss Osmond's not superstitious."

  "Not about colors," I said. "I might be about some things."

  "Doesn't do to think you're unlucky," he said. "Otherwise you will be."

  Then he went out, his chin wagging.

  Theodosia looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Now why did Father come in here?"

  "You should know more about his habits than I do."

  "I believe he's quite excited about my ball. Judith, Mrs. Grey was saying that you were reading books, some of which had been written by Sir Edward Travers. You must know quite a lot now about archaeology."

  "Enough to know that I'm very ignorant about it. We both have a smattering, haven't we? We got that from Evan Callum."

  "Yes," she said. "I wish I knew more."

  She was animated. "I'm going to start reading. You must tell me what books you've had."

/>   I understood of course. She was desperately anxious to be able to talk knowledgeably to Tybalt.

  The invitations had been sent out; I had listed the guests and ticked them off when the acceptances came in. I had helped arrange what flowers would be brought from the greenhouses to decorate the ballroom, for it was October and the gardens could scarcely supply what was needed. I had compiled the dance programs and chosen the pink-and-blue pencils and the silken cords which would be attached to them. For the first time Lady Bodrean seemed pleased and I knew it was only because she wanted me to know what care went into the launching into society of a well-bred girl. She may have noticed that I was downcast at times and this put her into a good humor so that I wanted to shout at her: "I care nothing for these grand occasions; Theodosia is welcome to them. My melancholy has nothing to do with that."

  I went to Rainbow Cottage when I had an hour or so to spare. Dorcas and Alison always made a great fuss of me; they tried to keep my spirits up with griddle cakes which I used to be rather greedy about as a child.

  They wanted to hear all about the ball.

  "It's a shame they don't ask you, Judith," said Dorcas.

  "Why should they? Employees are not asked to family balls surely."

  "It's different in your case. Weren't you in the schoolroom with them?"

  "That, as Lady Bodrean would inform you, is something for which to feel gratitude and not an excuse for looking for further favors."

  "Oh Judith, is it really unbearable?"

  "Well, the truth is that she is so obnoxious that I get a certain delight in doing battle. Also she is really rather stupid so that I am able to get in quite a lot of barbs of which she is unaware."

  "If it is too bad, you must leave."

  "I may be asked to. I must warn you that I expect dismissal daily."

  "Well, dear, don't worry. We can manage here. And you'd find something else very quickly I'm sure."

  Sometimes they talked about village affairs. They worked a good deal for the church. Having done so all their lives they were well equipped for the task. Sabina was not really very practical, they whispered, and although she could chatter away to people, a little more than that was expected of a rector's wife. As for Oliver he was quite competent.

  I reminded them that they used to say he had carried the parish on his shoulders when their father was alive.