The Black Benedicts (16 page)

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

F
or
the next week Mallory worked feverishly on the task that had been set her, and in this connection
she
was helped greatly by Mrs. Carpenter, who had most of the families in the district graded according to importance. Mrs. Carpenter was not very enthusiastic about the idea of a costume ball, especially when she heard that it was to gratify a whim of Miss Martingale
’
s, and she looked doubtfully at Mallory, entrusted with the task of getting the invitations out. But Phipps thought it was high time something really sensational was held at Morven, and he was secretly very disapproving of his master because he had remained a bachelor for so long and so little entertainment was provided by the Grange for the neighbourhood.

S
erena, when she heard, was thrown into instant transports of delight, and she assumed immediately that if a dance was to be held she would be permitted to make an appearance at it, even if it was only brief. And she dragged Mallory along the picture gallery and insisted on making a close study of the portraits in order to decide which one of the costumes worn by her ancestresses could
b
e faithfully copied and worn by herself on the great night.

“
If Uncle Raife won
’
t have it made up in London for me,
”
she said,
“
we
’
ll go into Beomster and buy the material and Mrs. Howland can come up here and make it.
”

Mrs. Howland was the local seamstress who was quite clever at renovating chair covers and darning sheets, but whether she could copy a period gown once worn at Court by a Benedict beauty Mallory doubted. However, Serena was so filled with enthusiasm that he hadn
’
t the heart to damp her until she had discussed the matter with the child
’
s uncle, and in the end the somewhat precocious nine-year-old decided that she would like to look like a Gainsborough lady.

“
And you
?
”
Serena then wanted to know.
“
What will you wear, Miss Gower? Shall we pick one out for you?
”

But Mallory was so horrified by the notion that having faithfully fulfilled her task of organizing the countless details of the dance with the assistance of Mrs. Carpenter, she would be expected to put in an appearance at the dance itself, that her expression amazed Serena. For one thing—and this she did not think it necessary to explain her charge—it was beyond the limit of her purse-strings to afford a really suitable dress for such an occasion. And for another, she
c
ould imagine the faintly disdainful expression on Sonia Martingale
’
s exquisite face when it was explained to her that the governess had been allowed a share in the evening
’
s festivities because Serena had to have someone to keep an eye on her.

No; whatever happened, she would not attend the dance, and in order to prevent Serena talking to her about a costume she explained to her, without any feelings of self-pity, that she was employed by her un
cl
e as a kind of upper servant, and upper servants did not receive invitations to county balls.

But Serena looked at her with an odd expression in her large dark eyes.

“
Does Uncle Raife know that you won
’
t be going?
”
she asked.

Mallory shook her head.

“
It just wouldn
’
t occur to him that I would expect to go.
”

“
But he asked you to have dinner with him and me the other night, and he
’
s never asked Mrs. Carpenter.
”
She surveyed Mallory with a faintly triumphant look in her eyes.
“
And Mrs. Carpenter is a servant—so that means you
’
re not!
”

Mallory gave it up. But she also gave Serena clearly to understand that on the night of the dance she would be spending the evening upstairs in her sitting-room, and it would be entertainment enough for her to hear the music of the dance band.

But there was a great deal to be done before the night of the dance, and a great deal to be done before Miss Martingale returned to Morven. Everything had to be in a condition of readiness that she could approve, and with that object in view the big ballroom on the south side of the house that had been dust-sheeted for more than a year was opened up, and the crystal chandeliers and the wall mirrors were cleaned until they sparkled like a blaze of diamonds. It was such a lovely room that Mallory, when
s
he first saw it, felt her breath catch with admiration. It was not the sort of room that could possibly be used often nowadays, for the expense of maintaining it at the pitch of perfection was too great. But when it was used, and its lovely garlanded ceiling and gilded cornices proclaimed that the period when it had been added to the house was about the middle of the eighteenth century, then it provided a highly fitting background for graceful dancers.

Mallory assisted Mrs. Carpenter and her band of other helpers collected in the village to wash paintwork and polish delicate examples of Hepplewhite furniture mid remove the covers from damask-covered couches, and when all the hard work was done there only remained the actual decoration of the room. But that was to be left to experts, and in any case the dance was not to take place until a week after Miss Martingale had arrived back at Morven.

Mallory knew that inwardly, and very secretly, she rather dreaded her return, and it was not only because once that happened she would have to watch Raife Benedict and the famous ballerina disappearing into sheltered
corner
s of the grounds probably on several occasions during each day and evening, and if she was summoned with Serena down to the drawing-room watch them looking at one another from time to time in the way two people do look when they plan to spend their future lives together.

She had seen scarcely anything at all of her employer since that night when they had walked together in the moonlit grounds, and he had saved her from f
a
lling down the steps into the rose garden. It was not that she made any attempt to keep out of his way, but if they did meet he always appeared preoccupied, and, according to Mrs. Carpenter, he spent hours at a time shut up in the library where no one ever dared to disturb him. And it seemed clear to Mallory that he was
missing
the warm society of Miss Martingale and the friends who seemed always to accompany her wherever she went—since, again according to
Mrs. Carpenter, they always arrived with the dancer at Morven—and he had no desire even for the society of his niece, who was too thrilled by all that was going on around her to notice for once that she was being neglected by her adored Uncle Raife.

Their morning ride had not been repeated, and if he rode by himself Mallory hoped—and she knew it was absurd to feel so much anxiety about a man
w
ho would have been amused if he had guessed at it—that Saladin could now be trusted to behave himself, and that there was no danger of a repeat performance of the incident which had broken the master of the manor
’
s collar-bone for him, and kept him in bed for several days.

The day that Miss Martingale was expected back, Mallory withdrew into her-own sitting-room and shut the door even upon Serena. This time she was determined that she was not going to share a vigil with Serena and watch for the moment when the cars came gliding smoothly up the drive, and Sonia Martingale emerged on to the gravel sweep looking lovelier than ever and faintly triumphant because this was almost as good as coming home for her.

Serena watched with Darcy from the schoolroom window, which overlooked the drive, and Mallory sat with the Siamese kitten, Mark Anthony, on her lap, and wished for the first time since she had come to Morven that she had never seen or heard of the place, and that she was safely back in her own home with her mother and her two brothers and sister.

She was not actively unhappy—but she was very certain that before many more months had passed she was going to be actively unhappy unless
she
did something about it. And the only sensible thing she could do about it was to go away from Morven.

Raife Benedict had said something about her job being only temporary, and now that she recalled his words she was thankful for it. But she also felt as if her inside had become suddenly very hollow, as if it was weighted down with something not easily described as misery, and that she shrank from every passing footfall outside her door or commotion on the stairs, and wished with all her heart that the moment would not arrive when Serena came bursting in on her with the information that
‘
she
’
had arrived.

But, inevitably, Serena did come bursting in, and she was full of the exquisite elegance of Miss Martingale
’
s clothes, and the fact that this time Miss Martingale had brought her dog with her. Mallory decided that that was almost certainly the animal who licked her face in the mornings, and she was a little surprised when
she
encountered it for the first time to discover that it was a large and rather fierce-looking Alsatian.

Belinda took particular exception to a stranger dog of such splendid proportions and commanding appearance being allowed to take up residence in the living quarters at Morven, and in order to avoid any possible trouble Serena was forced to keep her pet en
cl
osed within the safety of the nursery-wing, as it was called, and
w
hich contained her own apartments and Mallory
’
s and the schoolroom.

It was not so difficult to keep Belinda shut up— although she sent up protesting howls from time to time—but Mark Anthony, who was inclined to regard hims
el
f as a free rover, was an entirely different matter. Mark Anthony, when incarcerated in Mallory
’
s sitting-room, managed to escape by the open window and swarm down the drainpipe and in that way gain the outside world. But his satisfaction at having achieved something did not remain with him for long, for hardly had he arrived with all four chocolate-tipped paws firmly planted on the gravel of the pathway outside the drawing-room window that Miss Martingale
’
s Alsatian made his appearance in the window and took the greatest exception to him immediately.

Mallory, who was upstairs at the time, having just entered her sitting-room to look for her
work-basket
and repair a rent in Serena
’
s crisp summer dress, heard the altercation which began below the window, and as soon as she realized that Mark Anthony was no longer in the room she thrust her head out of the window and saw to her horror that the Alsatian had the little cat petrified with terror, and was advancing towards it menacingly.

She waited to see no more, but raced out of the room and down the stairs and out on to the path outside the drawing-room window where the contestants were still facing one another. But Mark Anthony had recovered a little of his courage and was uttering alarming noises which seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him, and he was getting ready to spit venom the instant the powerful dog moved. But Mallory had no intention of waiting to see what would happen when that moment arrived, and
she
darted forward and snatched Mark Anthony up just as the beautiful cream-coloured Alsatian leapt through the air and sent them both flying—Mallory miraculously avoiding crashing her head against a solid stone ornamental urn cascading brilliant blossom, and Mark Anthony on a return journey up the drainpipe from whence he eventually reached the roof, where he once more started to use his lungs and filled the air with protesting yowls.

Mallory picked herself up shakily from the gravel path just as the Alsatian looked as if he was about to concentrate his entire attention upon her, and take another leap at her. But before he could do so Raife Benedict appeared in the opening of the drawing-room windows and with a harsh command sent the animal cowering away, after which he turned to Mallory with the utmost concern written all over his dark face.

She looked up at him vaguely, feeling slightly sick because she had badly bruised one of her elbows, and the thought that she might so easily have split her head open on the stone urn gave her a nasty, empty feeling inside.

But hardly had she answered automatically—as she had done once before—that she was all right, than she remembered the Siamese kitten, whose fate was unknown to her just then, and she said urgently:

“
But, Mark Anthony...! Please! I don
’
t know where he is! Will you get him for me..
.”

“
Never mind Mark Anthony,
”
he answered, almost brusquely.
“
Phipps can locate him and bring him in, but you—your arm is bleeding!
”
he exclaimed, the concern on
hi
s face growing.
“
Let me have a look at it, and don
’
t attempt to pull down your sleeve like that,
”
as she attempted to cover up the graze.

“
It
’
s nothing,
”
she said.
“
Just a scratch from the gravel, and there
’
s no need at all to make a fuss...
”

“
I
’
m not
making
a fuss! But that brute Ajax might have caused you a serious injury if by ill luck you
’
d hit that urn over there!
”
He glanced at the urn with a kind of bitter animosity on his face, and then turned as Sonia Martingale appeared at his elbow, and slipped a hand inside his arm.

“
What is it?
”
she asked, in a cool, disinterested voice.
“
And Ajax is
not
a
brute, Raife, and I really can
’
t have you calling him one!
”
She looked at Mallory as if she was making a mental effort to recall
w
ho
she was and at the same time despising her for creating such an unpleasant scene right outside the drawing-room windows.
“
Honestly, darling, any dog will attack a cat, and your silly little Mark Anthony would have escaped unscathed if Miss—Miss Gower, here, hadn
’
t done such a foolish thing as try to snatch him up in front of poor Ajax
’
s eyes! It was simply asking for trouble—and, in any case, I don
’
t think the trouble is very serious.
”

“
Don
’
t you?
”
Mallory was amazed at the note of ice in his voice when he answered her—this beautiful, poised ballerina for whom he was giving a very costly dance in a few days
’
time—and she wondered whether perhaps it was her imagination, and because she did feel a little dazed and unlike herself just then, and although she despised herself for it, the sight of blood—any blood—always made her feel horribly squeamish, and it seemed to be flowing down her lacerated right arm.
“
Well, that may be your opinion, but I don
’
t happen to share it, and if you
’
ll grab hold of Ajax and take him away and have him tied up securely somewhere in the stables I
’
ll
take Miss Gower through to the library and get her arm attended to.
”

“
But
...
”
Sonia began, as if she could not honestly believe he was addressing her in those curt, icy, commanding tones. And then as she caught a glimpse of his face she added with commendable restraint and composure:
“
Oh, very well.
”

Mallory never afterwards had a very
cl
ear recollection of what transpired in the library once they reached it, but
she
did know that a glass of something tasting very strong and fiery was thrust into her shaking left hand, and that she was peremptorily ordered to drink it all up. She did drink it up, but she choked a little over it, and then she was thrust into a chair and Raife Benedict rang the bell for Mrs. Carpenter, who quickly possessed herself of a bowl of warm water and some iodine and proceeded to dean up the damage to Mallory
’
s arm. Mallory tried not to wince as the iodine did its work, but despite tremendous efforts the tears stung her eyes and she could see her employer
’
s dark face looking down at her through a blur which presently, and to her horror, spilled over on to her cheeks and formed two tiny rivers running down to her
c
hin.

She gulped, and thought what a coward he must think her; and then in the midst of her distress once more remembered Mark Anthony and besought him in a shaking voice to make sure that the little cat was all right.

“
I
’
ve told you that the cat is almost certain to be all right, and in any case Phipps already has instructions to bring
him
down off the roof
.
At this moment he
’
s probably getting a long enough ladder.
”

“
A—a ladder?
”
she
stammered, for something to say.

“
Yes. And in future don
’
t try to interfere between a dog and cat argument.
”
His voice was disturbingly rough as he spoke to her, and she realized that he was probably seriously annoyed because she was largely responsible for this unpleasant episode, and relations between him and Miss Martingale might now be a little strained—for a time, at least.

She looked down into Mrs. Carpenter
’
s sympathetic eyes, and the housekeeper said to reassure her:

“
There
’
s no need to get the doctor to do anything about this graze because it
’
s quite clean now, and although it will probably be sore for days it will heal up nicely enough. But I think it would be a good idea if you went upstairs to your room and had a little rest after the shock of it. Darcy can keep an eye on Serena, and you
’
re definitely looking a bit upset.
”

“
I
’
m—quite all right,
”
Mallory assured her, and thought that she would probably feel much more all right if she was not so firmly convinced that her employer was secretly chafing with irritation.
“
And, in any case, I
’
m not an invalid.
”