The Shivering Sands (32 page)

“You remind me of Roma. You become completely…absorbed in all this.”

He smiled that frank and engaging smile. “Don’t forget,” he said, “we are looking for clues.”

“Young widows,” said Allegra, “are said to be very fascinating.”

The girls were in the schoolroom at Lovat Stacy and Sylvia had come over for a piano lesson. I had walked in to remind Allegra that it was time for her lesson. She was never punctual. They were seated at the table and looked rather startled when I entered.

“We were talking about widows,” said Allegra saucily.

“You should’ve been thinking about your lesson. Have you done your practice?”

“No,” replied Allegra.

“And you Alice, and you Sylvia?”

“Yes, Mrs. Verlaine.”

“They are the good girls,” mocked Allegra. “They always do as they’re told.”

“It’s often wiser,” I put in. “Now Allegra.”

Allegra wriggled in her chair. “Do you like Mr. Wilmot, Mrs. Verlaine?”

“Like him? Of course I like him. I believe he is a very good curate.”

“I think he likes you.” She turned her withering gaze on Sylvia. “And he does not like
you
one little bit. He thinks you’re a silly little girl. Don’t you agree, Mrs. Verlaine? He’s probably told
you
what he thinks of Sylvia.”

“I don’t agree, and he has never mentioned Sylvia to me. I am sure he likes her very well. At least she tries with her lessons, which is more than some people do.”

Allegra burst out laughing, and Sylvia and Alice looked embarrassed.

“Of course he doesn’t like silly girls. He likes widows.”

“I see you are trying to delay your lesson. It’s quite useless. Now…come along.”

Allegra rose. “All the same,” she said, “widows are attractive. I’m sure of it. It’s on account of having had a husband and lost him. I shall be very glad when I have had a husband.”

“What nonsense!”

I led the way to the music room conscious of those three pairs of eyes studying me.

How often, I asked myself, did those three pairs of eyes watch me when I was unaware of it.

I came face to face with Napier on the wide staircase which led to the hall. “I scarcely see you now—since Edith went.”

“No,” I answered.

“I want to talk to you.”

“What do you wish to say?”

“Nothing here. Not in this house.” His voice had sunk to a whisper. “Ride out to Hunters Knoll this afternoon. I’ll see you there at half-past two.”

I was about to protest, but he said: “I’ll be waiting there,” and passed on.

I was aware of the silence of the house about us. And I wondered if anyone had seen us meet and exchange a few words on the stairs.

He was there waiting for me.

“So you have come,” were his first words.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I wasn’t certain. What have you been thinking these last weeks?”

“Wondering chiefly what has become of Edith.”

“She has gone off with her lover.” It was a cold statement of fact; he showed no rancor, no emotion.

“Do you believe that?”

“What else can I believe!”

“There could be other explanations.”

“This seems the most likely. There is something I want to say to you…I suppose because I don’t want you to think too badly of me. When I married her I believed we could make something of our marriage. I want you to know that I did try to do this. So did she, I believe. But it was just not possible.”

I was silent and he went on: “I suspected that she was in love with the curate. I don’t blame her. I am sure I was the one to blame. But I don’t want you to think that I was callous…calculating…not completely so, anyway. She could not endure her life here. I understand that. So she went away. Let us take it from there.”

I was glad that he had said that because I believed him. He had not been unkind to her as I had at first thought. He had merely been struggling—clumsily perhaps—with an impossible situation.

“What did you wish to say to me?” I asked.

“That you should not avoid me as you have been doing.”

“Have I? I did not do so consciously. I’ve simply not seen you. I could say that
you
have been avoiding me.”

“If I’ve done so, you know the reason. But now we have this Mr. Wilmot.”

“What of him?”

“He is by all accounts a very attractive young man.”

“Mrs. Rendall seems to think so and she is not easily pleased.” I spoke lightly, but he did not enter into my mood.

“I’ve heard that you and he have quickly become good friends.”

“He is interested in music.”

“And you’ve both discovered a passion for archaeology.”

“So has Mrs. Rendall.”

He was determined that no lightness should enter the conversation.

“He is no doubt charming.”

“No doubt.”

“You would know.”

“We have known each other such a short time, but yes, I should say he would be a very charming companion.”

“I hope you will not do anything…rash…commit yourself….”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you should not be impulsive, Caroline. Be patient.”

We both heard the sound of horses’ hoofs together, and almost immediately three riders came into sight. Allegra, Alice and Sylvia.

I thought: They must have seen me leave and followed me.

Allegra confirmed this. She called out: “We saw you leave, Mrs. Verlaine, and we wanted to come with you. Do you mind?”

Alice had stumbled through the
Czerny Study
and looked at me expectantly.

“Not bad, but there’s plenty of room for improvement.”

She nodded sadly.

“Well,” I went on consolingly, “you do take pains and you are getting on.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Verlaine.” She looked down at her hands and said: “The lights have started again.”

“What?”

“The lights in the chapel. I saw them last night. It’s the first time…since Edith…went.”

“Well, I shouldn’t worry too much about it if I were you.”

“I don’t worry, Mrs. Verlaine. I just feel a little scared.”

“No harm will come to you.”

“But there really does seem to be a curse on the house, doesn’t there?”

“Certainly not.”

“But there were all those deaths. It started when Mr. Napier shot Beau. Do you think it’s true that Beau has never forgiven him?”

“What nonsense. And I’m surprised at you, Alice. I thought you had more sense.”

Alice looked ashamed. “It’s what everyone says…that’s all.”

“
Everyone?
” I repeated.

“The servants say it. They say it in the village. They see the light and say it. They say that there will never be any peace until Mr. Napier goes away again. I think that’s unkind, don’t you? I mean it would make Mr. Napier unhappy if he heard…and I think he has heard because he does look unhappy, doesn’t he? But perhaps he’s thinking of Edith.”

“Your head seems to be filled with a lot of silly gossip,” I said. “No wonder you don’t make progress with your music.”

“But you said I was making progress, Mrs. Verlaine.”

“More progress,” I added.

“So you don’t think it’s Beau who is haunting the chapel?”

“Of course not.”

“I know what Mrs. Verlaine thinks.” It was Allegra coming for her lesson, punctual for once. “She thinks I do it. Don’t you, Mrs. Verlaine? You think I’m playing tricks.”

“I hope you would never do anything so foolish.”

“But you suspect me, don’t you? Do you know what I am? I’m an object of suspicion.”

“I know it isn’t Allegra,” said Alice. “I’ve seen the light when Allegra has been with me.”

Allegra grimaced at me.

“We’ll show you,” she said.

“And now,” I said, “perhaps you will show me how well you have done your practice.”

The opportunity to “show me” came a little too soon for my peace of mind. That very evening I was in my room when Allegra burst in. She was very excited. “Now, Mrs. Verlaine. Alice and I saw the light only a moment ago.”

Alice was at the door. “May I come in, Mrs. Verlaine?”

I gave permission and the two girls stood before me.

“A moment ago,” cried Allegra. “We could see it from your window, but it’s better from Alice’s.”

I followed them up the stairs to Alice’s bedroom; she lighted a candle and held it up to the window. She stood there for some moments until I said: “Do put that candle down, Alice. You’ll set the curtains on fire.”

Obediently she set it down and lighted another.

While she was doing so, Allegra caught the sleeve of my dress and whispered: “Look. There it is.”

And there it was. The light flashing momentarily and then disappearing.

“I’m going to see who’s there,” I said.

Alice caught my sleeve, her eyes agonized. “Oh no, Mrs. Verlaine.”

“Someone is playing tricks, I’m sure of it. Who’ll volunteer to come with me?”

Alice looked at Allegra, her face visibly blanching. “I’d be terrified,” she said.

“So would I,” replied Allegra.

“Until we discover who it is playing these tricks you will go on being terrified.”

I moved toward the door. I was not going to admit that I was uneasy myself. A sudden idea had come to me, and it startled me. What if there was something so mysterious going on in this house that I had no notion as to what it could be? In that moment I experienced what I can only call a premonition and it was as though Roma herself was warning me.