Cavendon Hall. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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       TEN

      Genevra had been right. It began to rain. Daphne felt the first drops on her forehead as she arrived at Cavendon. Avoiding both the kitchen and the front doors, having no desire to run into anyone, she slipped into the house through the conservatory. Only she and her mother used this room, and her mother was in Harrogate today.

      Once she was inside the house, Daphne experienced an enormous sense of relief. She also wondered how she had managed to climb the hill. Walking the final stretch on her own had been difficult. It struck her that she would never even have made it through the woods, if not for the gypsy girl’s help. Genevra had supported her, held her upright all the way.

      Crossing the terracotta-tiled floor of the conservatory, Daphne went up the back staircase. Half way, she had to sit down on a step for a moment. Her back hurt, and she was sore and bruised. What she needed was a hot bath to ease her aching body. She must also calm herself, take control of her swimming and troubled senses, come to grips with what had happened. She was filled with fear, as well as horror-struck by what had been done to her with such force and cruelty.

      Taking a few deep breaths, she finally rose and continued up the narrow staircase. When she finally stepped out into the bedroom corridor, she found herself standing in front of DeLacy and Cecily. Both girls had their arms full of summer frocks, and Alice was immediately behind them.

      ‘Daphne!’ DeLacy cried, when she saw her sister. ‘Whatever’s happened? You look as if you’ve been pulled through a hedge backwards!’

      Cecily was also gaping at Daphne, looking startled, but she did not utter a word.

      Filled with dismay, her heart sinking, Daphne remained silent. She had been taken by surprise, and was flustered, rooted to the spot. Cringing inside, she shrank closer to the wall.

      It was Alice Swann who immediately took charge. She had noticed Daphne’s dishevelled appearance at once, knew something was terribly amiss, and was alarmed by Daphne’s stricken expression.

      Turning to the girls, she said, ‘Please take the frocks upstairs to the sewing room.’ She smiled at DeLacy, ‘And why don’t you try on a few of them, m’lady? You and Cecily can decide which ones you like the best. I will join you shortly.’

      They did as she suggested, knowing it was best not to say anything, and they did not linger a moment longer.

      Daphne had begun to edge towards her bedroom; Alice hurried over to her. Putting her hand underneath Daphne’s elbow, she gently guided her inside.

      After closing the door behind them, Alice stood there, not only wondering what had happened to Daphne, but also seeking a diplomatic way to approach the matter.

      Although Daphne was trying to disguise the fact, Alice noticed that her blouse was torn and the jacket sleeve ripped at the shoulder.

      It was Daphne who spoke first. In a shaking voice, she whispered, ‘Something happened …’ She was unable to continue, turned around, and collapsed on a chair, her entire body shaking.

      An exceedingly observant woman, Alice took in everything: Daphne’s dazed and troubled state, the bleakness in her blue eyes, the trembling mouth, the aura of fear surrounding her. It was obvious she was in shock, and Alice could not help anticipating the worst.

      Her eyes swept over the Earl’s daughter. Her clothes were in a mess, not only torn, but there were grass stains and dirty marks on the skirt, mud on the jacket, and, as she peered closer, she thought she spotted blood on the skirt. Her chest tightened in apprehension.

      Walking across the floor, she said softly, ‘Something bad happened, didn’t it, Lady Daphne?’ When Daphne did not answer, Alice said, ‘Am I correct, my lady?’

      Daphne could not speak. She attempted to hold herself still, but the shaking would not stop. She wanted to confide in Mrs Alice, just for the relief of it, but she did not dare tell her the truth. Not after Richard Torbett’s terrifying threat to have Dulcie and her mother killed. The mere thought of this brought tears to Daphne’s eyes, and she started sobbing as if her heart would break.

      Alice ran to her, knelt down at her feet and took hold of her hands. ‘Lady Daphne, I am here to help you. Don’t be afraid to cry. Let it all out. Tears help to release the tension.’ She reached into her jacket pocket and gave Daphne a clean white handkerchief. Alice waited quietly, kneeling next to the young woman, wanting to give her support, and a measure of comfort if that were possible.

      At one moment, Alice rose and went to the door, locking it to ensure their privacy. Then she returned to Daphne’s side. Slowly the sobbing abated. Daphne wiped her eyes again, and finally sat up straighter. She looked at Alice, explained, ‘I fell down, Mrs Alice, and I—’

      ‘Don’t say anything else, my lady!’ Alice interrupted. Drawing closer, she added, ‘I don’t need to know anything. Nothing at all.’ In a lower tone, she whispered, ‘Tell no one. No one at all. Understand?’

      Daphne looked at her intently. ‘Yes.’

      Alice said, ‘Do not trust anyone in this house. Not ever.’

      On hearing these words, Daphne was puzzled, and also a little frightened.

      Observing her reaction, and wanting to allay any fears, Alice reached out, took her hand. ‘Only your parents. You can trust them. Naturally. And you can trust me. And Walter and Cecily. We are Swanns. We will always protect you.’

      Daphne nodded her understanding, a look of relief entering her eyes.

      ‘Our ancestors made a blood oath over one hundred and sixty years ago. It has never been broken. Please say the motto, Lady Daphne.’ As she spoke Alice stretched out her right arm and made a fist.

      Daphne placed her right hand on Alice’s fist, and said in French, ‘Loyaulté me lie.’

      Repeating the motto in English, Alice said, ‘Loyalty binds me,’ and she put her left hand on top of Daphne’s, and the young woman did the same. ‘We are bound together into eternity,’ they said in unison.

      After a few moments of silence, Alice broke their grip, and stood up. She said quietly, ‘I think you must get undressed, and then take a hot bath, m’lady. A good soak will bring ease to your body. Shall I help you?’

      ‘No, no, thank you, Mrs Alice. I can manage,’ Daphne said hurriedly.

      Understanding that she wanted privacy, Alice nodded. ‘Please give me your hat, Lady Daphne.’

      Daphne did so, and rose, limping towards the bathroom, her mind racing, filled with all manner of thoughts, not the least being Alice’s comments about not trusting anyone except her parents and the Swanns.

      Alice explained, ‘I’m going to take those clothes home with me later. I will clean and mend them, and no one will be any the wiser.’

      Daphne paused, turned around and stared at her, ‘But—’

      ‘No buts, my lady. We can’t have one of the maids finding them, now can we?’

      Daphne simply СКАЧАТЬ