The Black Moth Read online

  He blew his nose rather violently, and then his hand found Richard’s.

  Richard Carstares had plenty to occupy him for the rest of the week. Arrangements had to be made, a house acquired for Lavinia, Wyncham House to be thoroughly cleaned and put in order, awaiting its rightful owner. Once she had made up her mind to face the inevitable, Lavinia quite enjoyed all the preparations. The new house in Great Jermyn Street she voted charming, and she straightway set to work to buy very expensive furniture for it, and to superintend all the alterations. In her present penitent mood she would even have accompanied her husband to Wyncham on Monday, to stand by him on the fateful Friday; but this he would not allow, insisting that she remain in town until his return. So she fluttered contentedly from Grosvenor Square to Jermyn Street, very busy and quite happy.

  Carstares was to travel to Wyncham on Monday, arriving there the following evening in company with Andrew, whom he was taking as far as Andover. His lordship had lately embroiled himself in a quarrel over a lady when deep in his cups, and owing to the subsequent duel at Barn Elms and the almost overpowering nature of his debts, he deemed it prudent to go into seclusion for a spell. Tracy disappeared from town in the middle of the week, whither no one knew, but it was universally believed that he had gone to Scotland on a visit.

  Monday at length dawned fair and promising. After bidding his wife a very tender farewell, and gently drying her wet eyelashes with his own handkerchief, Richard set out with his brother-in-law in the big travelling chaise soon after noon. Andrew had quite recovered his hitherto rather dampened spirits, and produced a dice-box from one pocket and a pack of cards from the other wherewith to beguile the tedium of the journey.

  Twenty-five

  His Grace of Andover Captures the Queen

  Diana stood in the old oak porch, riding-whip in hand, and the folds of her voluminous gown over her arm. Miss Betty stood beside her, surveying her with secret pride.

  Diana’s eyes seemed darker than ever, she thought, and the mouth more tragic. She knew that the girl was, to use her own expression, ‘moping quite prodigiously for that Mr Carr’. Not all that she could do to entertain Diana entirely chased away the haunting sadness in her face; for a time she would be gay, but afterwards the laughter died away and she was silent. Many times had Miss Betty shaken her fist at the absent John.

  Presently Diana gave a tiny sigh, and looked down at her aunt, smiling.

  ‘You would be surprised how excellently well Harper manages the horses,’ she said. ‘He is quite a godsend. So much nicer than that stupid William.’

  ‘Indeed, yes,’ agreed Miss Betty. ‘Only think, my dear, he was groom to Sir Hugh Grandison – I saw the letter Sir Hugh writ your Papa – a remarkable elegant epistle, I assure you, my love.’

  Diana nodded and watched the new groom ride up, leading her mount. He jumped down, and, touching his hat, stood awaiting his mistress’s pleasure.

  Diana went up to the cob, patting his glossy neck.

  ‘We are going towards Ashley to-day, aunt,’ she said. ‘I am so anxious to find some berries, and Harper tells me they grow in profusion not far from here.’

  ‘Now, my dear, pray do not tire yourself by going too far – I doubt it will rain before long and you will catch your death of cold!’

  Diana laughed at her.

  ‘Oh, no, aunt! Why, the sky is almost cloudless! But we shall not be long, I promise you. Only as far as Crossdown Woods and back again.’

  She gave her foot to the groom just as Mr Beauleigh came out to watch her start.

  ‘Really, my dear, I must ride with you to-morrow,’ he told her. ‘’Tis an age since we have been out together.’

  ‘Why, Papa, will you not accompany me this afternoon?’ cried Diana eagerly. ‘I should so like it!’

  It struck her aunt that Harper awaited the answer to this question rather anxiously. She watched him, puzzled. However, when Mr Beauleigh had refused she could not see any change in his expression, and concluded that she must have been mistaken.

  So with a wave of her hand, Diana rode away, the groom following at a respectful distance. Yet somehow Miss Betty was uneasy. A presentiment of evil seemed to touch her, and when the riders had disappeared round a bend in the road she felt an inane desire to run after them and call her niece back. She gave herself a little shake, saying that she was a fond old woman, over-anxious about Diana.

  Nevertheless, she laid a detaining hand on her brother’s arm as he was about to go indoors.

  ‘Wait, Horace! You – you will ride with Di more frequently, will you not?’

  He looked surprised.

  ‘You are uneasy, Betty?’

  ‘Oh – uneasy – ! Well, yes – a little. I do not like her to go alone with a groom, and we do not know this man.’

  ‘My dear! I had the very highest references from Sir Hugh Grandison, who, I am sure, would never recommend anyone untrustworthy. Why, you saw the letter yourself!’

  ‘Yes, yes. Doubtless I am very stupid. But you will ride with her after to-day, will you not?’

  ‘Certainly I will accompany my daughter when I can spare the time,’ he replied with dignity, and with that she had to be content.

  Diana rode leisurely along the lane, beside great trees and hedges that were a blaze of riotous colour. Autumn had turned the leaves dull gold and flame, mellow brown and deepest red, with flaming orange intermingled, and touches of copper here and there where some beech tree stood. The lane was like a fairy picture, too gorgeous to be real; the trees, meeting overhead, but let the sunlight through in patches, so that the dusty road beneath was mottled with gold.

  The hedges retained their greenness, and where there was a gap a vista of fields presented itself. And then they came upon a clump of berries, black and red, growing the other side of the little stream that meandered along the lane in a ditch. Diana drew up and addressed her companion.

  ‘See, Harper – there are berries! We need go no further.’ She changed the reins to her right hand and made as if to spring down.

  ‘The place I spoke of is but a short way on, miss,’ ventured the man, keeping his seat.

  She paused.

  ‘But why will these not suffice?’

  ‘Well, miss, if you like. But those others were a deal finer. It seems a pity not to get some.’

  Diana looked doubtfully along the road.

  ‘’Tis not far?’

  ‘No, miss; but another quarter of a mile, and then down the track by the wood.’

  Still she hesitated.

  ‘I do not want to be late,’ she demurred.

  ‘No, miss, of course not. I only thought as how we might come back by way of Chorly Fields.’

  ‘Round by the mill? H’m…’

  ‘Yes, miss. Then as soon as we get past it there is a clear stretch of turf almost up to the house.’

  Her eye brightened.

  ‘A gallop? Very well! But let us hurry on.’

  She touched her cob with her heel, and they trotted on briskly out of the leafy canopy along the road with blue sky above and pasture land around. After a little while the wood came in sight, and in a minute they were riding down the track at right angles to the road. Harper was at Diana’s heels, drawing nearer. Half unconsciously she quickened her pace. There was not a soul in sight.

  They were coming to a bend in the road, and now Harper was alongside.

  Choking a ridiculous feeling of frightened apprehension, Diana drew rein.

  ‘I do not perceive those berries!’ she said lightly.

  ‘No, miss,’ was the immediate response. ‘They are just a step into the wood. If you care to dismount here I can show you.’

  Nothing could be more respectful than the man’s tone. Diana shook off her nervous qualms and slipped down. Harper, already on the ground, took the cob’s rein and tied both horses to a tree