CHAPTER 61
He knew he had blundered, but it was
too late now. As he had ridden up the long avenue in the clear
Caroline, in her brave innocence, had
foiled him; but not completely, for, if he handled her gently, she might be
persuaded. If only he had stalled her till the morrow, he thought, the dire
deed might have been done and no evidence left to incriminate him. She might
believe that the devil had spirited Ninny and her son away. More likely, she
would accept that they had been helped by human agents to escape the justice
they merited by their deceit. There was no use in turning over the alternatives
in his mind, for he was already near the door to the tower, Caroline by his
side. He inserted the key in the lock, then turned and took her in his arms.
“Oh my darling, darling Caroline,” he
murmured between kisses, “you are going to see for yourself how a man can be
betrayed. You will be my true and loving wife. You will stand by me ..... trust me ..... I need your
trust. I need you.”
She yielded to his caresses, as
always, like wax in his hands. She would not resist him now, but he must curb
his passion till this matter was settled once for all; it was not easy. He had
to force himself to unlock the door.
By the light of the lantern they saw
the grim chamber with its stacked bales of dusty wool, its cobwebbed wine
casks. There was no sign of Ninny; her straw pallet was empty and cold. The thought
crossed Marsmain’s mind that, with luck, this
ridiculous errand might end here. Maybe Caroline had never gone farther than
this and the rest was fancy, or rumour. He attempted to joke about the
smuggling trade and how it had supplemented the family's fortune. Caroline was
not listening. She made straight for the door that led to the stair, beckoning
him to follow with the lantern. The upper chamber was exactly as she had seen
it before. This time the figure on the bed was wide awake. He started and raised
his head, staring. Under the meagre blankets, Caroline could see him tremble as
Nick approached. He covered his eyes with a thin hand. A cry broke from his
lips. It was the same terrified, tormented cry she had heard in the night so
long ago. Marsmain thrust the lantern into her hand
and leapt forward till he towered over the shrinking form of the man on the
bed. His eyes were cold and murderous as steel. The sick man ceased his cry and
cowered away from him.
“I have an account to settle with you,
Liam,” Marsmain menaced. “You have been telling lies
again. How dared you lie to my wife? How dared you distress her? Now you must
tell her the truth. Tell her you are not my brother. You are Liam Carney, the
son of that deaf-mute witch. That is the truth, isn't it? Tell her the truth,
and ask her pardon for your lying. Tell the truth, I say, or I will make you.”
The figure on the bed lay still. His
eyes shut out the towering menace. His jaw clenched under the transparent skin;
his shoulders stiffened; on the soiled coverlet, his frail hands clutched at
the dusty air. He did not speak.
“Stubborn, eh?” Marsmain
said angrily, “another of your games. But you cannot defy me. I'll have the
truth out of you however I drag it.”
He gripped him by the shoulders and shook
him till his head wobbled. There was no response but an agonised moan.
“Leave him alone, Nick,” Caroline
pleaded. “It doesn't matter.”
But Marsmain's
anger was roused. Nothing could stop him now. He turned a fierce glare on her.
His voice was hoarse with rage.
“It does matter,” he said, “it has become a matter of my honour. It was you who disputed
that. It was you, not I, who brought this on the unfortunate creature. Now
stand off, and take the consequences of your womanish meddling.”
“Speak!” he roared at the sick man,
“speak the truth and make an end to this nonsense. Cannot you see how you have
distressed my lady wife? You can ease her mind.”
“Then take your hands off me. I swear
I will tell the truth. I have no strength to resist you now. Once I was able to
leave my mark. You will wear my scar to your grave .....
my fine duellist!”
“Liar! Liar! Liar!”
Marsmain raised his hand to strike,
then desisted.
“Your next lie will be your last,
Carney!”
The man on the bed lay perfectly
still. His face was as pale as death. Then he opened his eyes. They were clear
and bright and showed no fear. He fixed his gaze on Caroline's face as though
he saw the angel of God to whom he could not lie. When he spoke, his voice was
weak, but clear and steady.
“As I must meet God ..... and my mother ..... I swear this is the truth, Caroline. I
am William O'Brien Marsmain, true heir to the Ballinmore estates. I was born with a blemish
..... a sickly child ..... my
father's shame. Weak in body, I was believed to be weak in mind. I was not fit
to carry on the line. My father turned his face from me. Then you, my brother,
were born perfect. When the deaf mute's bastard died of fever it was
convenient. I too had the fever, and survived. It was easy to substitute one
child for another. The worthy Dr. Swartz did not look too closely. I took the
place of Liam Carney. Nick supplanted me. He grew accustomed to the lie. To
make sure there would be no discovery, he was prepared to kill me. In the
struggle I marked that handsome countenance. I survived the fall down the steep
stairs. The deaf mute's bastard had attacked young master, it was said. He was
mad. Not only a weakling and mad ..... now crippled from the fall. Dr. Swartz was none too careful
how he applied the splints. What did it matter? Who was I? Who cared but my
mother? She dared not tell. It was too late.”
Caroline was on her knees by the
pallet. She took the trembling hands in hers, soothed him with gentle, hushing
words. He smiled.
“You believe me?” he whispered and lay
content when she nodded her head.
Marsmain stared at the pair. He had never seen
Caroline in this gentle role. She had never treated him with such tenderness.
She never would now. With horror, he realised what power to make or break him
had been committed to her hands. But he had seen those hands control a powerful
stallion; they could destroy a man. His eyes found the old woman peering from
the shadows, reading the story with her shrewd eyes.
“Go below!” he roared, shaking his
fist at her. “Stay there!”
She scuttled away like a scared rat.
He was alone with his manifest destiny. This pair looked frail in the wispy
light. They could disappear without trace. Without trace?
Not Caroline. There would be questions. She looked so sweet and gentle now ..... his Caroline. He could,
even yet, bend her to his will. What a wife she would make
..... what a mother for his son? If he had been
candid she would have understood. Was it too late to win her back to him? A
despairing sob broke from him; she raised her eyes. All tenderness fading, they
grew cold. Like steely lances they accused him. Groaning in pain, he knelt
before her and laid his head in her lap.
“Oh Caroline?” he pleaded, “forgive me ..... forgive me ..... for the love of God, forgive.”
A cloud of sorrow crossed her face.
She made no move to push him away ..... nor to touch him. Her voice was calm:
“I have nothing to forgive, Nick Marsmain. It is your brother's forgiveness you must beg.
You must admit the truth ..... make
amends for the wrong you have done him ..... the wrong
you have condoned. He asks nothing but his freedom to walk in the sun. Castle Ballinmore can be yours, honourably. If you persist in the
lie, I cannot live with you ..... share
our deception. You could not honour me if I chose to share your shame. Surely
it is not so hard to tell the truth.”
“It is impossible now. The disgrace
would ruin my father.”
“He has lived with disgrace for a long
time. Surely he has some conscience left. Neither he nor you has
suffered as this man has. It is high time to make amends.”
“Are you hinting that you may betray
us, Caroline?” he demanded, facing her frank stare, trying not to bluster.
“I must do what I believe to be just,”
she replied steadily.
At this he lost all patience. He towered
over her, scowling.
“Don't dare to threaten me. If you are
to be my wife, you must learn to obey. You will not throw away the chance of
being lady of Ballinmore for a mere whim?”
She remained still and silent, facing
his menace. He shrugged his shoulders.
“Very well, my little viper, since you
are poisonous, you must be kept where you can do no injury. Where better than
in this cage ..... this very
tower. I wager that a few days with the spiders will help you to change your
mind.”
“I do not fear spiders.”
“Rats then.”
“Nor rats.”
“The ravings of this madman then, or
the ghost of Lady Adeline.”
“Neither alarms me. Your brother is
quite sane ..... saner than
you, Nick. Lady Adeline is a gentle shade. As for this tower; in such I was
reared; the shadows and the moaning winds are old friends.”
Marsmain’s laugh was more eerie than the shades.
It echoed bitterly through the old tower. Caroline struggled to control her
trembling emotions; her face was the frightened face of a child. For a moment
she would have run to him, begging to be restored to his arms. She would never
know how strong his impulse was to clasp her in his arms and comfort her; that touching, childish look was one he had scarcely glimpsed
before. She seemed so close to yielding ..... and she was, though he never dreamt how close. If only she
had not looked again at the pale face on the ramshackle bed, all might have
been different, she a different person, and their whole destiny changed. But
like
“I will stay here, if I must,” she
said, “I may be your prisoner, but I shall be freer than you. Freer than your mother ever was. I have no wish to assume
her burden.”
“Very well, then you shall not take
her place. Consider our marriage ended ..... until you change your mind. You never loved me as a good
wife should. I will leave you to your thoughts. If you come to your senses, I
shall prove more patient than you think. I never held it against you that you
were a spirited girl. I never shall. Think, Caroline. Think well. Only I can
deliver you from this.”
He swept the grim chamber with a
gesture. Then he was gone. The heavy door slammed behind him. The key ground in the lock. He had taken the lantern. Among
the grimy rags the sick man began to sob. Caroline knelt by him; cradling his
head against her shoulder, she comforted him till he slept; then stretching by
his side she waited for the dawn.