The Shadow of Tyburn Tree (12 page)

‘Enough, Sir! Thou knowest full well that thou art the only man that I have ever truly loved, or ever shall. Come to my arms this instant.'

Slowly he took off the blue silk robe that he was wearing and laid it over a chair. For a moment he bent above her, then her soft arms closed round his neck. He was twenty and she was twenty-one. Both of them could look forward to ten thousand tomorrows without a care, and this night was theirs.

The hours sped all too swiftly. It was as though the healing of this, their first serious difference in all their lives, had knit them together more closely than ever before. They dozed a little now and then, his arm about her shoulders, her dark head pillowed on his chest; but in the main, between caresses,
they talked and whispered a thousand absurdities while the world around them slept.

At last he roused from a timeless interval of semi-conscious bliss, and murmured: ‘ 'Tis time for me to leave you, sweet, to get a few hours sleep. The dawn is on us look, the light is now quite strong where it creeps in between the curtains.

‘Nay, stay and love me yet a while,' she whispered drowsily. ‘I could never have enough of you.'

‘That ill consorts with your opinion of yesterday,' he rallied her.

She got up on one elbow, and leaned across him, smiling down into his face. ‘I must have been a little crazy then, and we were both quite so last night. Our kisses have cured our affliction since, and we are sane again. You'll not leave here on Monday, as you threatened; will you, Roger?'

He was silent for a moment, then he said: ‘I had not thought of doing so until our discussion on ourselves arose. But your contention then, that if we had the strength of mind to part while our passion was still unblunted, we might later cheat the Gods into giving us a second honeymoon, impressed me nightily.'

‘ 'Twas sound reasoning I'll admit. But this past night has given our passion a new lease of life; so there is now no point in our precipitating the parting. Stay with me these next two months a least; for Stillwaters is a veritable lovers' paradise in the spring.'

‘Hark!' he said suddenly; and in the stillness of the early morning they both caught the faint clatter of a horse's hoofs on stone.

‘Who would be going out riding at this early hour?' he asked, with a puzzled frown.

She shrugged. ‘I know not, neither do I care. One of the grooms most probably, taking a horse to exercise.'

‘Nay. 'Tis Sunday, and no good groom would gallop a horse across the flagstones of the yard.'

‘What boots it, anyway?' She gave him an impatient shake. ‘Attend to me, Sir; and tell me if you will stay and love me through the spring.'

‘Aye,' he smiled. ‘Since 'tis your wish, dear witch, I will. None but the Gods can tell what may have befallen us by this time next year. So let us suck our golden orange till 'tis dry. We'll still have the rind, and in that lies the essential essence of the fruit; its quality of greatest value, like our sweet companionship.'

Georgina gave him a long kiss, and murmured: ‘Well said, dear love. I am now content; and when thou has left my side
I shall fall asleep only to enjoy sweet dreams of thee.'

‘Then I will leave thee now to my most fortunate dream image.'

As he made to rise she pushed him back, on a sudden thought occurring to her. ‘That horse. Think you it could have been Vorontzoff leaving for London in a dudgeon?'

Roger shook his head. ‘Nay. He came in a coach with outriders. He would not set out to return alone.'

‘I would to God it was,' she sighed. ‘How I'll face him when we next meet, I cannot think.'

‘Then think not of it, angel. I'll stick by your side throughout the day; so that he has no chance to corner you alone.'

‘The sight of you beside me will infuriate him the more. After your visit to him last night 'tis a hundred to one that he guessed you to be my lover.'

‘Were the odds a thousand to one I would not take them,' Roger laughed. ‘I would wager any money that he slipped along the corridor after I left him to make certain that you were not alone. And discretion is not your major virtue, my pet. A score of times I have begged you to lower your voice when we are in here together, but you persistently ignore my counsel; so he is bound to have heard us.

‘Oh, drat the man! the thought of him has now robbed me of all wish to sleep. Keep me company a while longer, dear one. Nibble my ear for a little, you know how I love that.'

‘Thou art a veritable child,' he smiled. ‘Turn over, then; and I'll indulge thee.'

For a few moments they lay quietly side by side while he gently teased the lobe of her right ear, then she said with a happy sigh: ‘Oh, darling, 'tis the most lovely feeling; and I adore thee so. Thou hast but one single shortcoming.'

Stopping, he raised his head and asked in mock indignation. ‘And what may that be, pray?'

She giggled. ‘That thou has not two mouths with which to nibble both my ears at the same time.'

It was at that instant both of them caught the sound of heavy footsteps pounding along the corridor at a run. Jerking apart they sat up in bed. Georgina snatched at her nightdress. Roger stretched out a hand in an endeavour to reach his gown.

The crashing footfalls came to an abrupt halt outside the door. Suddenly it was thrown open, and a tall figure burst into the room.

The intruder paused just inside the doorway. He was a man of about thirty; fair-haired, red-faced, broad-shouldered. He was booted and spurred and his clothes were covered with
dust. In his right hand he held a heavy riding crop that trailed a long lash; in his left a handkerchief with which he began to mop his perspiring face.

Roger had never seen him before, but he guessed instantly that this must be Georgina's husband.

Confirming his thought came her swift cry: ‘Humphrey! What brings you here? How dare you invade my privacy in this barbarous fashion!'

Slamming the door behind him Sir Humphrey Etheredge strode forward to the foot of the bed. ‘And you, Madam!' he bellowed like an angry bull. ‘How dare you commit your whoredoms in my house?'

‘ 'Tis not your house,' she retorted, her black eyes flashing. ‘Stillwaters is mine for life under our marriage contract.'

‘I care not!' he roared. ‘I told you when last we met in London that you must be more circumspect in your affairs. I warned you that I would no longer tolerate being made an open mock of. I'll not submit to being pointed at as a figure of fun to pleasure you or any other harlot!'

Georgina had covered herself by jerking the bedclothes up to her chin. Roger had seized the chance while they were storming at one another to slip out of bed and pull on his robe. Now, stepping forward, he said firmly:

‘Sir Humphrey. My name is Roger Brook. I am prepared to give you full satisfaction whenever it may suit you. Let us curtail this undignified scene and behave like gentlemen. Be good enough to leave the room with me and give me the names of your seconds.'

The irate husband swung upon him. ‘My quarrel is not with you, Sir! That Frenchman, whoever he may be, said in the note he sent to Goodwood that if I immediately took horse and got here by dawn I should find a young cockscomb warming my wife's bed for me. But whether 'twas yourself or another I do not give a damn. 'Tis her I have ridden twenty-five miles to catch. And now I've caught her I intend to give her a damn good flogging, for 'tis the only language she will understand.'

As he ceased his tirade he stepped swiftly round the side of the bed and, raising his whip, struck at Georgina.

Roger threw himself across the bed in an effort to shield her and grabbed at the lash as it descended. Missing her face by an inch it caught him across the back of his left hand, but he failed to grasp it. Realising the futility of such half-measures he slid off the bed and squared up to Sir Humphrey.

Ignoring him, the purple-faced Baronet struck at Georgina a second time. She had stretched out her hand to snatch up a
heavy cut-glass scent bottle that stood on her bedside table. Just as she grasped it the lash came down again, cutting her across the neck and down the upper part of her naked back.

Out of the corner of his eye Roger saw the lash fall, and heard her give a swift whimper. Head down, fists clenched and half-mad with rage he sailed into Sir Humphrey, striking out with all his force. His right caught the Baronet a terrific blow just below the heart. At the same instant Georgina flung the scent-bottle and it caught her husband on the temple. He gave a grunt, lurched, and fell to the floor.

For a moment he lay silent and they stared at him in horror; then he began to groan. Georgina jumped out of bed and made to kneel down beside him; but Roger thrust her aside.

‘Leave this to me,' he muttered. ‘And in heaven's name get some clothes on before the commotion we have raised brings the household upon us.'

As she hurried into her nightdress and pulled a chamber-robe over it, he swiftly loosed Sir Humphrey's cravat to ease his breathing. The Baronet continued to groan and rolled his head painfully from side to side a little; but he showed no signs of returning consciousness.

Georgina ran to her washstand, picked up a jug of cold water and, running back with it, sluiced its contents over his head and shoulders.

Roger had already examined the side of the injured man's head where the scent-bottle had struck it. There was only a small cut from which a few drops of blood were oozing; but the scent had sprayed all over him and the whole room now reeked of the heady perfume.

Kneeling down opposite Roger, Georgina wiped the few drops of blood from her husband's head with a handkerchief. She had hardly done so when the movements of his neck ceased, his mouth fell open, and a horrible rattling noise began to issue from his throat.

It continued for a full minute while they knelt there petrified. Suddenly it ceased. Both of them looked up at the same moment and their terrified glances met across the body.

Roger was kneeling on the left side of the corpse; Georgina on its right. Neither of them moved. White-faced and stunned they continued to stare at one another across it.

Suddenly Georgina broke the silence in a frightened whisper.

‘Roger—in the crystal yesterday! Your—your heavy loss at cards!'

He nodded. ‘And for you—the treachery through a letter writ in a foreign hand!'

Again there flashed into both their minds the third picture she had conjured up from the depths of the water-filled goblet; the court-room scene—the judge in his red robe—the gallows tree.

Georgina's mouth opened wide to give forth a terrified scream. At the sight something clicked in Roger's brain. From a scared youngster with a mind numbed by shock and fright, he became in an instant a clear-headed man of action. Reaching out he slapped her smartly across the face.

Her scream was cut short in her throat. She blinked her eyes and tears welled up into them; but her nerves steadied as she felt Roger's hand grasp hers and heard him speaking in a swift low voice.

‘If we would save our necks 'tis imperative that you should quell your hysteria, and disregard that ugly portent. To count it a glimpse of a future definitely ordained is to admit defeat and invite conviction. 'Twould be as sensible to surrender ourselves to the sheriff's officers within the hour, and confess to murder. If God grants us a little time we may yet concoct a story; and save ourselves by convincing the authorities that he died by an accident.'

As she did not reply, he added urgently: ‘Speak, Georgina; speak! Say you understand me!'

She nodded dumbly, then threw an anxious glance over her shoulder towards the door, and muttered, ‘After the noise he made 'tis a wonder that the household is not already upon us.'

Roger too, had feared that the dead man's shouting would have brought guests and servants running; but as the early morning quiet of the house remained unbroken he said softly: ‘I've a feeling now that God has granted us a respite. The walls of the house are thick and the rooms on either side of this unoccupied. Across the corridor lie only your clothes-closets; and the servants would not yet be moving about this part of the house. Our worst danger is that old Barney may have seen him come upstairs, and followed. He may be listening outside the door, there.'

Georgina shook her head. ‘Even were that so, he would allow himself to be cut in pieces rather than say aught hurtful to me. But, 'tis most unlikely. At this hour he will be tending to the fires.'

As her glance fell again upon her husband's body, fresh tears started to her eyes, and she exclaimed: ‘Oh, poor Humphrey! To think that he was once a fine handsome fellow; see the ruin he has made of himself these past few years. And worse! To meet so sudden and terrible an end all through my wickedness.'

‘Cease talking nonsense!' said Roger, with sudden brutality. He knew that at all costs he must prevent her from breaking down, and went on ruthlessly. ‘ 'Twas no fault of yours that excessive drink first coarsened all his appetites, then robbed him of the power to enjoy the wives of stable-hands, and the like, that he took for his mistresses. He condoned your infidelities and laughed at them until recent months, when the liquor began to affect his brain. His behaviour but five minutes since was that of a lunatic, and he is better dead. I've no regrets at having rid you of him.'

‘Thou did'st not do so, Roger. 'Twas the scent-bottle I flung catching him on the temple that killed him.'

‘Nay, 'twas my blow upon his heart. Had I not been half crazed myself from seeing him strike you I should have remembered the type of life he led, and had the sense to pull my punch.'

‘You seek to take the blame upon yourself. 'Tis like your chivalry; but, whatever the rights of it, I'll not allow you to say that the blow upon his head was also yours. I'd sooner be driven to Tyburn in a cart.'