Curse of the Kings Page 9

  "Oh, Hadrian. Are you really in debt?"

  "Up to the eyes. What wouldn't I do to be in Theodosia's shoes."

  "I don't suppose she gets as big an allowance as you."

  "But think of the credit! Did you know that my uncle is fabulously rich? Well, dear Theodosia will inherit all that one day."

  "I hate all this talk about money."

  "It is depressing. It's one of the reasons why I'd like to be rich. Then you can forget there's such a thing in the world as money."

  We laughed, danced, and joked; but both of us were, I suppose, thinking of what the next day would bring. My ability to live in the moment was only with me when Tybalt was there.

  I hoped to see him again, but I didn't; and before all the guests had departed I thought it advisable to return to my room.

  I was wrong in thinking that the storm would break the next morning. Lady Bodrean had no intention of allowing it to wait as long as that.

  I was still in my ball dress when the bell rang vigorously.

  I knew what that meant and I was rather glad because the dress gave me confidence.

  I went along to Lady Bodrean's room. She was in her ball gown, too—violet-colored velvet with a magnificent train edged with fur that looked like miniver. She was quite regal.

  "Well, Miss Osmond, what have you to say for yourself?"

  "What do you expect me to say, Lady Bodrean?"

  "What I do not expect is insolence. You were at the ball tonight. How dared you intrude and mingle with my guests."

  "It is not really very daring to accept an invitation," I replied.

  "Invitation? Have you the effrontery to tell me that you sent yourself an invitation?"

  "I did not. Sir Ralph gave instructions that I was to go to the ball."

  "I do not believe it."

  "Perhaps your ladyship would wish me to call him." Before she could reply I had seized the bell rope and pulled it. Jane came running in. "Lady Bodrean wishes you to ask Sir Ralph if he will come here ... if he has not already retired."

  Lady Bodrean was spluttering with rage, but Jane, who, I believe, knew what had been happening, had hurried off to call Sir Ralph.

  "How dare you presume to give orders here?" demanded Lady Bodrean.

  "I thought I was obeying orders," I said. "I was under the impression that your ladyship wished Sir Ralph to come here to corroborate my story, for clearly you did not believe me."

  "I have never in all my life been subjected to such . . . such . . . such . . ."

  "Insubordination?" I supplied.

  "Insolence," she said.

  I was intoxicated with happiness still. I had danced with Tybalt; he had talked to me; I had conveyed to him my interest in his work. He had said, "Your company has made it such an interesting evening." And he had meant that, for I was sure he was not the man to say what he did not mean. So how could I care for this foolish old virago who in a few moments was going to be confronted by her husband who, I knew, would confirm what I had said.

  He stood there in the doorway. "What the . . ." he began. Then he saw me and there was that now familiar movement of the jaw.

  "What's Miss Osmond doing here?" he asked.

  "I sent for her. She had the temerity to mingle with our guests tonight."

  "She was one of them," he said shortly.

  "I think you have forgotten that she is my companion."

  "She was one of your guests tonight. She came to the ball on my invitation. That is enough."

  "You mean you invited this young woman without consulting me!"

  "You know very well I did."

  "This young woman is under the impression that because she was allowed to have a little education and some of it under this roof that entitles her to special treatment. I tell you I will not allow this. She came here as a companion and shall be treated as such."

  "Which means," said Sir Ralph, "that you will make her life unbearable. You will be as unpleasant to her as you know how—and my God, that, madam, is a great deal."

  "You have foisted this person on me," she said. "I will not endure it."

  "She will continue as before."

  "I tell you . . . that I will not have you force me to have people . . . like this in my household."

  "Madam," said Sir Ralph, "you will do as I say . . ."

  He gripped the chair; I saw the blood suffuse his face; he reeled slightly.

  I rushed forward and caught his arm. He looked about him and I helped him to a chair. He sat there breathing heavily.

  I said: "I think we should call his valet. He is unwell."

  I took it upon myself to instruct Jane to do so.

  Jane hurried away and shortly came back with Blake, Sir Ralph's personal servant.

  Blake knew what to do. He unloosened Sir Ralph's collar and taking a small tablet from a box put it into his employer's mouth. Sir Ralph lay back in the chair, his face, which had been a suffused purple, becoming gradually paler but the veins at his temples standing out like tubes.

  "That's better, sir," said Blake. Then he looked at Lady Bodrean. "I'll get him to bed now, my lady."

  Sir Ralph rose shakily to his feet and leaned heavily on Blake.

  He nodded at me and a shadow of amusement came into his face.

  He muttered: "Don't forget what I say. I mean it."

  Then Blake led him away.

  When the door shut Lady Bodrean turned on me.

  "Now," she said, "you can see what you have done."

  "Not I," I replied significantly.

  "Go back to your room," she said. "I will talk to you later."

  I went back. What a night! She would not get rid of me. She dared not. Nor was I sure that she wanted to. If I went she would be deprived of the joy of making my life miserable. I was sure she did not want that.

  But I could cope with her and I did not wish to think of her on such a night. I had so many more memories to brood on.

  At the end of that month Sir Edward with his expedition, which included Tybalt, left for Egypt.

  Evan went back to the university where he had a temporary post as lecturer in archaeology; Hadrian went to Kent to do some work on a Viking burial ship which had been discovered somewhere along the east coast, and I returned to the monotony of serving Lady Bodrean which was only enlivened by her attempts to humiliate me. But the thought that I had friends in Sir Ralph and Theodosia was comforting. There were no more walks to Giza House because Tabitha had accompanied the party but I walked past it several times. It seemed to have reverted to the old days when we had called it the haunted house. The blinds were drawn, the furniture was under dust covers, and there were only three or four servants there. The two Egyptians, Mustapha and Absalam, had gone with Sir Edward.

  I longed for the return of the expedition. And Tybalt.

  I called more often at Rainbow Cottage since I couldn't go to Giza; there was always a welcome there. Dorcas and Alison were delighted when I gave them an account of the ball and the beautiful green dress which I had found in the cupboard.

  I had been surprised at their attitude right from the beginning when they had been so delighted that I was to go to Keverall Court. I was young—and although my nose prevented me from being beautiful I could look quite attractive at times. I had assessed myself often in the last months comparing myself with Theodosia. I had a vitality which she lacked; and my animation was attractive, I was sure. Although my temper was inclined to flare up, any storm was soon over; I had an ability to laugh at life and that meant laughing at myself. I had my very thick dark hair—not easy to handle because it was almost straight; I had large brown eyes with lashes as thick and black as my hair; and fortunately I had a good healthy set of teeth. I was taller than Theodosia and Sabina and inclined to be thin. I lacked Theodosia's pretty plumpness and Sabina's hourglass figure. Moreover I had youth which was supposed to be a never failing attraction for aging roues. Sir Ralph's reputation was far from good. I had heard the blacksmiths talking to some of
the farmers about the old days when Sir Ralph was in his prime as a seducer of young maidens. They were immediately silent when I, at that time in the company of Hadrian and Theodosia, had appeared. And yet Dorcas and Alison had been delighted that I was to have a post at Keverall Court.

  I reasoned that they believed that Sir Ralph had given up his wild life. He was far too old to pursue it; and, remembering him on that night when he had come to Lady Bodrean's room, I could well believe it. All the same I did think it rather strange that Dorcas and Alison had so willingly allowed me to go into the lecher's lair.

  Now they wanted a detailed account of the ball.

  "A dress!" they had cried. "What a charming idea."

  A further surprise because I had believed that one of the tenets of society was that young ladies did not accept dresses from a gentleman.

  This was different. Theodosia had made it so. I had come to the conclusion that Sir Ralph liked me. I amused him in some way, which Theodosia had failed to do.

  I was content to have been to the ball and to have enjoyed it. Had I not been presented with the dress I could never have gone.

  It was so much easier to accept the cozy outlook I found at Rainbow Cottage rather than to probe the motives of Sir Ralph. For all his faults he was a kindly man. The servants certainly liked him better than they did his wife. As for myself, I felt fully competent to deal with any situation which might arise. I was fortunate in having Rainbow Cottage so close that I could run straight out of Keverall Court to it, if need be.

  So I told them all about the ball. Dorcas was very interested in the food, Alison in the flower arrangements; and both of them much more interested in what had happened to me.

  I danced the waltz round the tiny sitting room in Rainbow Cottage, knocking over the what-not which resulted in two casualties—the handle of one of Dorcas's little Goss china cups and a finger chipped on her eighteenth-century flower girl.

  They were rueful but happy to see me happier; so they made light of the breakages. The cup handle would stick and the finger wouldn't be noticed. And with whom had I danced?

  "Tybalt Travers! He's a strange man. Emily's sister who works there says both he and his father give her the creeps."

  "Creeps!" I said. "The servants there are creep mad!"

  "It's a queer sort of house and a strange profession, I think," said Dorcas. "Fiddling about with things that people handled years and years ago."

  "Oh, Dorcas, you're talking like some country bumpkin."

  "I know you're very interested in it. And I must say some of the pictures in those books you used to bring here would have given me nightmares. I used to wonder whether we ought to take them away."

  "What pictures!"

  "Skulls and bones . . . and I think those mummies are horrible things. And Sir Edward . . ."

  "Well, what of Sir Edward?"

  "I know he's very well known and very highly thought of but they say he's a bit peculiar."

  "Just because he's different from themselves . . . just because he doesn't go around seducing all the village maidens like Sir Ralph did ... they think that's odd!"

  "Really, Judith, where do you learn such things?"

  "From life, Alison dear. Life all around me."

  "You get so vehement every time these Traverses are mentioned."

  "Well, they're doing this wonderful job . . ."

  "I do believe you'd like to be out there with them fiddling about with all these dead mummies!"

  "I could imagine nothing I should like more. It would be a little different from dancing attendance on the most disagreeable woman in the world."

  "Poor Judith, perhaps it won't last forever. Do you know I think we might manage here. There's quite a big garden. We might grow vegetables and sell them."

  I grimaced at my hands. "I don't think I have the necessary green fingers."

  "Well, who knows, something may turn up. That young man who used to teach you. He was at the ball, wasn't he?"

  "You mean Evan Callum."

  "I always liked him. There was something gentle about him. You used to talk about him a great deal. You were better at his lessons than any of the others."

  I smiled at them benignly. They had made up their minds that marriage would solve my problems. I had failed to bring it off with Oliver Shrimpton so they had chosen Evan Callum as the next candidate.

  "I daresay he will be coming down here again. All this interest about the expedition . . ."

  "Why doesn't he give people the creeps?" I demanded. "His profession is the same as Sir Edward's and Tybalt's."

  "He's more . . . normal."

  "You're not suggesting that the Traverses are not normal!"

  "They're different," said Dorcas. "Oh yes, Mr. Callum will be here again. Sir Ralph, they say, is involved in this Egyptian matter. I heard that he's helping to finance it because his daughter is going to marry Tybalt Travers."

  "Where did you hear that?" I asked.

  "Through Emily."

  "Servants' gossip."

  "My dear Judith, who knows more about a family's affairs than the servants?"

  They were right of course. The servants would hear scraps of conversation. I pictured Jane with her ear to the keyhole. Some of them pieced together torn-up letters which had been thrown into wastepaper baskets. They had their ears and eyes open for household scandals.

  There was no doubt that the general expectation was that Tybalt was destined for Theodosia.

  I went back to Keverall Court thoughtfully.

  He doesn't love her, I told myself. I should know if he did. He enjoyed dancing with me at the ball far more than with Theodosia. How could a man like Tybalt be in love with Theodosia!

  But Theodosia was rich—a great heiress. With a fortune in his hands such as Theodosia could bring him, Tybalt would be able to finance his own expeditions.

  To Sir Edward very little mattered but his work and Tybalt was following very close in his footsteps.

  This was why the servants in the house had the "creeps."

  On the day Tybalt married Theodosia I would go away. I would find a post as far as possible from St. Erno's and I would try to build a new life out of the ruins of my old one. He might be obsessed by his work; I was by him; and I knew, as surely as I knew anything that when I lost him all the savor would go from my life.

  Dorcas had said: "When Judith is enthusiastic about something her whole heart's in it. She never does anything by halves."

  She was right; and now I was enthusiastic as I had never been in my life before—enthusiastic for one man, one way of life.

  Theodosia, as though to make up for her neglect, sought me out a good deal. She liked to talk about the books she was reading and I could see she was making a great effort to perfect herself in the subject of archaeology.

  She would invite me to her room and it often seemed as though she were on the verge of confidences. She was a little absent-minded; sometimes she would seem very happy, at others apprehensive. Once when I was in her room she pulled open a drawer and I saw a bundle of letters tied up with blue ribbon. How like Theodosia to tie up her love letters with blue ribbon! I wondered what was in them. Somehow I could not imagine Tybalt's writing love letters—and to Theodosia!

  Dearest Theodosia,

  I long for the day when we shall be married. I am planning several expeditions and these need financial backing. How useful your fortune will be ...

  I laughed at myself. I was trying to convince myself that the only thing he would want from Theodosia was her fortune. And even if he did, as if he would write such a letter!

  "How is Mamma behaving these days?" she asked me idly one afternoon when she had invited me to her room.

  "Very much as usual."

  "I expect she has been even worse since the ball."

  "Your expectations are correct."

  "Poor Judith!"

  "Oh, we all have our problems."

  "Yes," she sighed.

  "Surely not you,
Theodosia?"

  She hesitated. Then she said, "Judith, have you ever been in love?"

  I felt myself starting to flush uncomfortably but fortunately it was not meant to be a question so much as the preliminary to confidences.

  "It's wonderful," she went on, "and yet . . . I'm a little scared."

  "Why should you be scared?"

  "Well, I'm not very clever, as you know."

  "If he's in love with you . . ."

  "If! Of course he is. He tells me so every time I see him . . . every time he writes . . ."

  I half wanted to make an excuse to escape, half wanted to stay and be tortured.

  "I really find archaeology rather boring, Judith. That's the truth, and of course it's his life. I've tried. I've read the books. I love it when they find something wonderful, but it's mostly about tools for digging and kinds of soil and so on and all those boring pots and things."

  "If you're not interested perhaps you shouldn't pretend to be."

  "I don't think he expects me to be. I shall just look after him. That's all he wants. Oh, it will be wonderful, Judith. But I'm worried about my father."

  "Why should you be worried about him?"

  "He won't like it."

  "Won't like it! But I thought he was anxious for you to marry Tybalt."

  "Tybalt! I'm not talking of Tybalt."

  This was singing in my ears. It was like listening to some heavenly chorus. I cried: "What! Not Tybalt. You're joking!"

  "Tybalt!" she cried. And she repeated his name with a sort of horror. "Tybalt! Why I'd be scared to death of him. I'm sure he thinks I am quite foolish."

  "He's serious, of course, which is much more interesting than being stupidly frivolous."

  "Evan is not frivolous."

  "Evan! So it's Evan!"

  "But of course it's Evan. Who else?"

  I began to laugh. "And those letters tied up with blue ribbon . . . and all this sighing and blushing. Evan!" I hugged her. "Oh, Theodosia, I'm so happy ..." I had the presence of mind to add: "for you."

  "Whatever's come over you, Judith?"

  "Well, I didn't think it was Evan."

  "You thought it was Tybalt. That's what people think because that's what Father wants. He'd love to see a match between our families. He's always been a great admirer of Sir Edward and interested in everything he does. And he would have loved me to be like you and able to learn about all this stuff. But I'm not like that, and how could anybody want Tybalt when there's Evan!"