The Shadow of the Lynx (42 page)

Once she had been contented enough at the prospect of marrying Franklyn Wakefield, no doubt; and then he had come—this strong, vital Stirling who, when he wanted something, would allow no obstacle to stand in his way. Poor Minta; Did she guess why he was marrying her?

Often I wanted to tell her. I had to keep a tight control on my tongue to prevent myself shouting at her; and all the time I could feel nothing but pity for her. Poor innocent little dupe! The victim of one strange man’s desire for revenge and of another’s tenacious need to fulfill a duty. Poor innocent Minta, who believed herself loved! She was not marrying for the sake of Whiteladies even though it would now be completely restored to its old perfection. It would be a cherished house. I could imagine Stirling’s thorough assessment of the necessary repairs. No expense spared. Here comes the golden millionaire.

And what happiness would come from such a marriage, I asked myself bitterly. I was jealous, angry and humiliated.
loved Stirling and I had believed he had loved me. And so he did. But his duty towards Lynx came before his love for me. A voice within me said: As your infatuation for Lynx came before your love for Stirling, remember?p>

Lynx was still with us, ruling our lives.

If I was deeply unhappy I was determined not to show it. I think I managed very well. Stirling made sure that we were rarely alone together. He spent a lot of time at Whiteladies. He was, as I guessed, making that assessment of necessary repairs and he threw himself into the task with all the ardour a normal man might have showered on his bride.

Minta came to see me and sat in the drawing-room nursing Donna. She was so happy, she said. She would tell me a secret. She had been in love with Stirling ever since we came to the Mercer’s House. No, before that really. Did I remember the occasion when we had all met for the first time? And when he came back . it seemed like fate.

Not fate, I thought, but Lynx.

“Stirling adores Whiteladies. He’ll love living there.”

It’s the only reason for his marriage, I thought grimly.

“He makes me see it differently. More as Lucie does.”

“And Lucie? Is Lucie pleased?”

She wrinkled her brows and I warmed towards Lucie, who, with her practical good sense, saw farther than Minta and her father.

“Lucie’s worried about me. I think she has the idea that I’m a child still. She taught me at school long ago and I don’t think she ever sees me as anything but one of her less bright pupils.”

So Lucie didn’t altogether approve.

“And what I wanted to say, Nora, is this: If you would like to come and live at Whiteladies there will always be a home for you there.”

TheI At Whiteladies. Oh, but you don’t want your stepmother-in-law. “I heard myself giggle a little wildly.

“That absurd title. I know Stirling wants you to come.”

“Has he said so?”

“Well, of course.”

No, I thought. Never! How could I live under the same roof and see them together and think of all that should have been mine? And Stirling loved me. He knew it. Poor innocent little Minta, who did not understand the devious people who surrounded her.

“Well, I’ve grown very attached to the Mercer’s House.”

“What, that big house all to yourself! Don’t imagine we should live in each other’s pockets. Whiteladies is vast. You could have your own wing. There are the apartments which used to be my mother’s.”

“It’s good of you, Minta, but I think I’ll be better here for a while.

I may go back to Australia. “

“Please don’t say that. We should hate it … Stirling and L’ And how I hated the proprietary way in which she spoke of him. My feelings were tempestuous and I was wretchedly unhappy. But I could only feel pity for Minta.

They were married that April—just as the buds were showing on the trees and the dawn chorus was at its most joyful.

Maud had decorated the church and I had helped her, which was bitter irony. How she had chattered! She was so happy for Minta.

“If ever a girl was in love that girl is Minta,” she said. And I knew Maud was imagining herself walking down the aisle on

the arm of Dr. Hunter, a bride. I could feel a great sympathy for Maud, but at least she did not have to see the man she loved married to someone else.

Right up to the wedding-day I kept assuring myself that something would happen to prevent this marriage; but the day arrived and Sir Hilary gave his daughter away and the Reverend John Mathers performed the service.

I sat and watched Stirling at the altar taking his vows to Minta. On one side of me was Lucie, on the other Franklyn. Lucie looked rather stem as though she feared for the marriage. And Franklyn? What were his feelings? He gave no indication that he suffered from seeing the girl who was surely intended for him marrying someone else. But that was characteristic of him.

The responses were over; they were signing the register; soon the wedding march would peal forth and they would come down the aisle together. It was like an evil dream.

And there they were—Minta, a radiant bride, Stirling inscrutable; and the organ playing the Wedding March from Lohengrin. It was over.

We left the church and with Franklyn beside me, I came out into the uncertain April sunshine.

sol. -l 273

MINTA

One

I am not sure when I first began to suspect that someone was trying to kill me. At first it was a hazy notion, one which I dismissed as ridiculous—and then it became a certainty. I had become a frightened and unhappy woman.

Yet on the day when I married Stirling I was, I was sure, the happiest bride in the world. I couldn’t believe that this wonderful thing had happened to me. In fact, on the day he proposed to me I was taken completely by surprise. Stirling was different from anyone I had ever known. There was a special quality about him. Nora had it too. They were the sort of people whose lives seemed so much more exciting than mine; and that made them stimulating to be with. Nora was by no means beautiful but she had more charm than anyone I knew; she was poised and had a rare dignity; I felt one only had to look at Nora to be attracted by her. Her life had been so unusual. There was the marriage to Stirling’s father of which she spoke very little, but I had noticed that whenever her husband’s name was mentioned there was a sort of breathless pause—with Stirling as well as Nora-as though they were talking of some deity. The fact that she had been his wife elevated her in some way, made her different from other people. Stirling had the same quality. They were not easy to know; they were unpredictable;

they were unlike people I had known all my life—people like Maud Mathers and Franklyn—and even Lucie whom I understood and knew so well.

I had never hoped that Stirling would care for me. I used to think that he and Nora would be well matched, and had she not been his stepmother they migBt have married. And then that day came and he said without warning: “Minta, I want to marry you.” I blinked and stammered: “What did you say?” because I was certain I had misheard.

He took my hands and kissed them and said he wanted to marry me. I told him that I loved him and had ever since I had first seen him; but I didn’t dream he felt the same about

me.

We told Father right away. He was delighted because he knew Stirling was rich and that when we were married I shouldn’t be haunted by poverty as he had always been. He summoned the household—including our few servants—and told them the news; and he sent down to the wine cellars for the last of the champagne so that everyone could drink our health. The servants did this readily. They were doubtless thinking that their wages would now be paid regularly.

But there were two people in the house who weren’t pleased.

The first was Lucie. Dear Lucie, she always behaved as though I had just emerged from the schoolroom and needed looking after. She came to my room after Stirling had gone and sat on the bed as she used to in those days when she came to Whiteladies for holidays.

“Minta,” she said, ‘are you absolutely sure? “

“I was never more sure of anything. It’s wonderful, because I never thought he could possibly care for me.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

“You happen to be a beautiful young woman and I always thought you’d make a good marriage.”

“Yet you’re looking worried.”

“I am … a little.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know. It’s a feeling I have.”

“Oh, Lucie, everybody’s delighted. And even if I wasn’t in love with him, it’s good from every point of view, isn’t it? He’ll stop all our worries about money; and you know how you’re always fretting about the house falling into ruin.”

“I know. I love this house and it is in urgent need of repair, but that doesn’t mean I think you should marry because of it.”

“You’re being a fussy old hen, Lude.”

“Since I married your father I’ve looked upon you as my daughter. And before that, as you know, I was very fond of you. I want you to be happy, Minta.”

“But I am. Never so as now.”

“I wish you would wait … not rush into things.”

“You’ve become a gloomy old prophetess. What’s wrong with Stirling?”

“Nothing, I hope, but it’s all too quick. I had no idea that he was in love with you. He’s never given me that impression.”

“Nor me either.” I giggled like a foolish schoolgirl.

“But he’s

different, Lucie. He’s lived a different life from ours. You shouldn’t expect him to behave like ordinary people. He wouldn’t show his feelings. “

That’s the trouble. He doesn’t. He certainly didn’t show he was in love with you. “

“Why else should he want to marry me? I can’t bring him a fortune.”

“He’s very interested in the house. He might be seeking the background marriage into a family like ours could give him. After all, who is he?

That rather vulgar display at the New Year shows a certain lack of breeding. “

“Lucie, how dare you say such things!”

I’m sorry. ” She was immediately contrite.

“I’m letting my anxieties run away with me. Forgive me, Minta.”

“Dearest Lucie. I’m the one who should ask forgiveness. I know you’re worried solely on my account. But really there’s nothing to worry about. I’m perfectly happy.”

“Well, you won’t rush things too much, will you?”

“Not too much,” I promised. But I knew Stirling wanted an early marriage and everything now would be what Stirling wanted.

The other dissenter was Lizzie. How dramatic—and rather tiresome—she had become since Mamma died. Lizzie had to wait until I was in bed before she came in, glided was the word, with her candle held high like some ghost. She was in a long white flannelette nightdress which added to the ghostly illusion. I was aware of being too excited for sleep, and was going over the wonderful moment when Stirling asked me to marry him.

She pushed open the door and I said: “What are you doing roaming about the house. Lizzie? You might set your nightdress alight with that candle.”

“I have to come and see you. Miss Minta.”

“At this time of night!”

“Time doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I think it does, Lizzie, because I’m tired and you ought to be in bed.”

She took no notice but sat on the edge of my bed.

So you’re going to get married . to him. “

“I’m going to marry Mr. Stirling Herrick, if that’s to whom you refer.”

“That’s him, all right. And the likeness is there. You’d know who he is at once.”

“Please don’t speak of my future husband disrespectfully, Lizzie.”

“There’s something unnatural about it. It seems a funny thing to me.

His father wanting to marry your mother and now he’s here and going to marry you. “

“What are you talking about. Lizzie.”

“It was his father who was here all those years ago.”

“His father! That was Mrs. Herrick’s husband.”

“A real mix-up,” said Lizzie.

“That’s what I think’s so funny about it. Your mother was mad about him and she wasn’t the only one.”

“Go to bed. Lizzie. You’re rambling.”

“No I’m not. What I say is true. It’s as though he’s come back. In a way I always thought he would.”

Events started to fall into shape in my mind. I said: “Lizzie, do you mean that my mother’s artist was …”

That’s right. Mr. Charles Herrick. You can see his name on some of the drawings in the studio cupboard. He came here to teach her drawing, then he went away . sent away to Australia for theft and your mother never saw him again. She was never the same after, and now he’s dead they say, but there’s this other one and you’re planning to marry him. Doesn’t that seem like some sort of fate? “

“I don’t understand it. I think you could be mistaken.”

“I’m not mistaken. There’s some who don’t lie down when they’re dead and he’s one of them.”

“You’re making a dramatic situation out of a perfectly normal one.”

“I hope so. Miss Minta. I certainly hope so. But how did he come here, out of the blue? He’s bewitched you just as his father did your mother . and others.”

“I’n ask Mr. Herrick about this when he comes back.”

“You ask him and listen carefully to the answers.”

“Now, Lizzie, I’m sleepy.”

“I take the hint, but I’ve warned you. I can’t do more than that.”

Then she picked up the candle and went out.

But I did not sleep. I was too excited. Could it be true that Stirling’s father was my mother’s artist? And what a strange coincidence that Nora’s scarf should have blown over our wall. What did it mean? But did it matter? What was important was that Stirling had asked me to marry him. Was it the house he wanted, as Lueie seemed to suggest? Was it some

sort of pattern as Lizzie thought it to be? And finally, wnai did it matter? I was going to marry Stirling.

Stirling said there was no need for delay. He was eager to become my husband.

I mentioned what Lizzie had told me.

“It’s true,” he admitted, ‘that my father was a drawing-master at Whiteladies, wrongly accused of theft and sent to Australia. There he quickly made good. It was a grossly unfair charge to make against a great man. When I came to England to take Nora back I naturally wanted to look at the house where my father had worked, Nora’s scarf blew over the wall and we came in to get it. “