CHAPTER 48
It was the misty dusk of a late
September evening when
Even in the fading light, he was a
clear target.
Wearing the uniform, the pursued
joined the pursuers. The chase, though prolonged into darkness and joined by
many recruits, was fruitless.
When the news was broken to Lucinda,
she took it with a calm dignity that might, in another, have been deemed indifference.
Perhaps she was more stunned than grieved. Only when Nick and Caroline arrived
did she break down. She clung to them, sobbing. Her utter reliance on him
flattered Nick. He was only too ready to take charge of all arrangements. A
message was dispatched, post haste, to Seveny's
family at Naas. He arranged the transport of the
coffin to his home there; from there the soldier would be buried with full
military honours. What a splendid friend he seemed to the frail parents whom
shock had rendered helpless!
Their elder son, absent on military
duties, could not arrive in time for the burial. He was amply replaced. Nick
stood by the graveside, his arm supporting the grieving mother, his face a
study in manly grief. Lucy clung to her sisters, both of whom were present to
support and comfort her. For the first time since Lucinda's wedding the three
were together.
After the funeral Lucinda remained
with her husband's parents. They were both most emphatic about it. They could
not bear to part with her and their darling grandchild now.
“Of course,” Gwendaline
said briskly, “you must accept their invitation. Where else can you go?”
“For the time being,” Caroline
thought. She was not sure yet what was best. How wonderful if they would be all
three together at
The Sevenys,
united in their grief, took Lucinda to their hearts like their own daughter.
Never had she been made so comfortable, nor provided with such pleasant
facilities. A suite of rooms was set aside for her, including an exquisitely
appointed nursery for baby Eleanor. Two nurses were engaged to care for the
child. Lucinda was allocated a dainty carriage to drive out in the fresh air
daily. She must get back the roses in her cheeks, Lady Seveny
said, forgetting that Lucinda never had a country complexion. In the end Lucinda
was driven to use rouge to reassure her mother-in-law, who was wont to insist
on too much care and nourishment. It was a matter of conscience with her that
this girl, whom she had previously slighted, should have the best of
everything. Perhaps she felt that she had not been fair to Gerard, whom she had
never really wanted; this was her way of making amends.
For some weeks the daily drive, the
round of polite calls, the reception of solicitous callers, the hours of rest
punctuated by walks around the gardens or periods of play with her baby,
sufficed to gratify Lucinda's easygoing nature. Tedium began to set in and this
was aggravated by an occasional brief visit from Gwendaline.
She wept when her sister left and it was not for her lost husband, though Lady Seveny thought so.
“You must not brood so, my dear,” she
said. “Perhaps you need a change of scene. I'm sure it would do you good to pay
a visit to the city.”
When Lucinda arrived in the capital,
her path was made as smooth as all her paths seemed destined to be. Lord Moreton arranged for her to stay with a friend, a mature
lady who knew exactly how much diversion might be indulged in without arousing
malicious gossip. For a recently bereaved widow, Lucinda enjoyed a more than
usually good social life. Her visits to the city became a regular occurrence.
Almost immediately after the burial of
Gerard Seveny, Nick was recalled to his command in
“Oh Nick,” she said, “how I shall miss you. Whatever am I going to do when you go?
Why cannot I go to
“Because I want you to stay and guard
my heritage, Caroline.
My father has not yet recovered; I cannot trust him to act responsibly. All
this estate is to be mine some day, how soon I dare
not guess. It is dearer to me than anything in the world. I must hold it
against all odds ..... for my
successors. You will watch over my interests while I am away, Caroline. As my
wife, it is your duty.”
“Your father is making splendid
recovery. Already he is able to come down stairs. He seems to be quite alert
and interested in the affairs of the estate, and he knows a great deal more
than I do about them.”
“My father may seem alert and in his
right mind. But I believe him to be in his dotage. He might even marry again.
That must not be. There must never be a rival to my claim ….. never anyone with a shadow of a claim, I say.”
“You frighten me. Must I see
conspirators lurking everywhere? Whom do you fear .....
or suspect.”
“Arabella de
Rossas. That she-devil had my father bewitched. I had
thought that spell was broken. Perhaps it is, but she is a very resolute woman.
Watch out for her, my darling. Remember, you are mistress of Ballinmore; she must never be.”
“But how .....?”
“I expect you to use your womanly
wiles. Remember, you are the future Lady Ballinmore.
It is your duty to behave as such.”
It was their last ride together, he on
his black stallion, Demon King, she on the chestnut whom she had named
Leviathan. On this fine morning when they were soon to part, she did not want
to be reminded of “duty”. A sudden flash of rebellion stung her. A sharp cut of
her crop on Leviathan's flank roused the mettlesome animal to a gallop. Nick
spurred the Demon to join the race. A race it turned out to be. Caroline headed
for open country, urging the horse to greater and greater feats, leaping fences
and streams, crashing through undergrowth, skirting marshy ground, taking hill
and dale with a wild abandon. He was both intrigued and irritated. When he
caught up with her, she turned to him, face flushed, eyes sparkling. Her smile
was a dare.
“You can lead the way home,” she said
crisply. “Leviathan and I have shown you our paces.”