The Black Moth Read online

  Jenny stumbled again and broke into a walk. Her master tapped her shoulder, and she picked up her stride again.

  She was almost winded, and he knew it, but he had to force her onwards. She responded gallantly to his hand, although her breath came sobbingly and her great, soft eyes were blurred.

  At last the great iron gates were in view; he could see them through the dusk, firmly shut. He pulled up and walked on, looking for a place in the hedge where Jenny might push through.

  Twenty-seven

  My Lord Enters by the Window

  His Grace of Andover made a sign to the footmen, and with a sinking heart Diana watched them leave the room, discreetly closing the door behind them. She affected to eat a peach, skinning it with fingers that were stiff and wooden. Tracy leaned back in his chair, surveying her through half-shut eyelids. He watched her eat her peach and rise to her feet, standing with her hand on the back of the high, carved chair. She addressed him nervously and with would-be lightness.

  ‘Well, sir, I have eaten, and I protest I am fatigued. Pray have the goodness to conduct me to your housekeeper.’

  ‘My dear,’ he drawled, ‘nothing would give me greater pleasure – always supposing that I possessed one.’

  She raised her eyebrows haughtily.

  ‘I presume you have at least a maidservant,’ she inquired. ‘If I am to remain here, I would retire.’

  ‘You shall, child, all in good time. But do not be in a hurry to deprive me of your fair company.’ He rose as he spoke, and taking her hand, led her dumbly to a low-backed settee at the other end of the great room.

  ‘If you have aught to say to me, your Grace, I beg that you will reserve it until to-morrow. I am not in the humour to-night.’

  He laughed at her.

  ‘Still so cold, child?’

  ‘I am not like to be different, sir.’

  His eyes glinted.

  ‘You think so? I shall show you that you are wrong, my dear. You may loathe me, you may love me, but I think you will lose something of that icy indifference. Allow me to point out to you that there is a couch behind you.’

  ‘I perceive it, sir.’

  ‘Then be seated.’

  ‘It is not worth the while, sir. I am not staying.’

  He advanced one step towards her with that in his face that made her sink hurriedly on to the couch.

  He nodded smiling.

  ‘You are wise, Diana.’

  ‘Why so free with my name, sir?’ This with icy sweetness.

  Tracy flung himself down beside her, his arms over the back of the settee and the fingers of his drooping hand just touching her shoulder. It was all the girl could do to keep from screaming. She felt trapped and helpless, and her nerve was in pieces.

  ‘Nay, sweet! An end to this quibbling. Bethink you, is it worth your while to anger me?’

  She sat rigid and silent.

  ‘I love you – ay, you shudder. One day you will not do that.’

  ‘You call this love, your Grace?’ she cried out, between scorn and misery.

  ‘Something near it,’ he answered imperturbably.

  ‘God help you then!’ she shivered, thinking of one other who had loved her so differently.

  ‘Belike He will,’ was the pleasant rejoinder. ‘But we wander from the point. It is this: you shall retire to your chamber at once – er – armed with the key – an you will swear to marry me to-morrow.’

  Very white she made as if to rise. The thin fingers closed over her shoulders, forcing her to remain.

  ‘No, my dear. Sit still.’

  Her self-control was slipping away from her; she struggled to be free from that hateful hand.

  ‘Oh, you brute, you brute! Let me go!’

  ‘When you have given me your answer, sweetheart.’

  ‘It is no!’ she cried. ‘A thousand times no!’

  ‘Think…’

  ‘I have thought! I would rather die than wed you!’

  ‘Very possibly. But death will not be your lot, my pretty one,’ purred the sinister voice in her ear. ‘Think carefully before you answer; were it not better to marry me with all honour than to –’

  ‘You devil!’ she panted, and looked wildly round for some means of escape. The long window was open, she knew, for the curtain blew out of the room. But his Grace was between it and her.

  ‘You begin to think better of it, child? Remember, tomorrow will be too late. This is your chance, now. In truth,’ he took a pinch of snuff, ‘in truth, it matters not to me whether you will be a bride or no.’

  With a sudden movement she wrenched herself free and darted to the window. In a flash he was up and had caught her as she reached it, swinging her round to face him.

  ‘Not so fast, my dear. You do not escape me so.’

  His arm was about her waist, drawing her irresistibly towards him. Sick with fear, she struck madly at the face bent close to hers.

  ‘Let me go! How dare you insult me so? Oh, for God’s sake let me go!’

  He was pressing her against him, one hand holding her wrists behind her in a grip of iron, his other arm about her shoulders.

  ‘For my own sake I will keep you,’ he smiled, and looked gloatingly down at her beautiful, agonised countenance, with its wonderful eyes gazing imploringly at him, and the sensitive mouth a-quiver. For one instant he held her so, and then swiftly bent his head and pressed his lips to hers.

  She could neither struggle nor cry out. A deadly faintness assailed her, and she could scarcely breathe.

  ‘By God, it is too late!’ he swore. ‘You had best give in, madam – nought can avail you now.’

  And then the unexpected happened. Even as in her last desperate effort to free herself she moaned the name of him whom she deemed hundreds of miles away across the sea, a crisp voice, vibrating with a species of cold fury, sounded directly behind them.

  ‘You delude yourself, Belmanoir,’ it said with deadly quiet.

  With an oath Tracy released the girl and wheeled to face the intruder.

  Framed by the dark curtains, drawn sword in hand, murder in his blue eyes, stood my lord.

  Tracy’s snarl died slowly away as he stared, and a look of blank amazement took its place.

  Diana, almost unable to believe her eyes, dizzy with the suddenness of it all, stumbled blindly towards him, crying:

  ‘Thank God! Thank God! Oh, Jack!’

  He caught her in his arms, drawing her gently to the couch.

  ‘Dear heart, you never doubted I should come?’

  ‘I thought you in France!’ she sobbed, and sank down amongst the cushions.

  Carstares turned to meet his Grace.

  Tracy had recovered from the first shock of surprise and was eyeing him through his quizzing glass.

  ‘This is an unexpected pleasure, my lord,’ he drawled with easy insolence.

  Diana stared at the mode of address and looked up at Carstares, bewildered.

  ‘I perceive your sword in the corner behind you, your Grace!’ snapped Jack, and flung over to the door, twisting the key round in the lock and slipping it into his breeches pocket.

  To Diana he was as a stranger, with no laugh in the glittering blue eyes, and none of the almost finicking politeness that usually characterised his bearing. He was very white, with lips set in a hard straight line, and his nostrils slightly expanded.

  His Grace shrugged a careless refusal.

  ‘My dear Carstares, why should I fight you?’ he inquired, seemingly not in the least annoyed by the other’s intrusion.

  ‘I had anticipated that answer, your Grace. So I brought this!’

  As he spoke Jack drove the sword he held into the wood floor, where it stayed, quivering.

  Nonchalantly Tracy took it in his hand and glanced at the hilt.