CHAPTERIII.
WhenLord Ilfracombe walked into the lighted drawing-room of Usk Hall he looked so pale and thoughtful that the ladies began to rally him at once on his supposed melancholy. Dear me, what could it be? Who could he have met during his evening ramble to make him look so grave? Had she failed to keep her appointment, or had she been unkind? The whole list of little pleasantries with which the fair sex assail men on such occasions, with the idea of being arch and witty, was recounted for his lordship’s benefit; but he looked very disinclined to supply food for their banter. His worry was so pre-evident that his wife asked him if he had a headache.
‘A little; nothing to speak of,’ he answered quietly.
‘Come along, old man, and have a game at pool,’ said Jack Portland, in his turn; ‘that will soon chase the vapours away. I expect it’s Sir Archibald’s port that’s done the job. It’s the most alluring wine I’ve tasted for many a day.’
‘No, no. I won’t allow it. Nothing of the kind,’ cried the jolly baronet; ‘there isn’t a headache in a dozen of it. Lord Ilfracombe hasn’t had enough of it. That’s what’s the matter with him.’
‘I think the sun may have touched me,’ said Ilfracombe feebly; ‘it has been very hot to-day.’
‘The sun; nonsense!’ exclaimed Mr Portland. ‘I never heard you give that excuse before, though we’ve been in several hot countries together. Come along to the billiard-room. You shouldn’t go wandering away by yourself in this fashion, and thinking over your sins. It’s enough to give any man the blues. I couldn’t stand it myself. You’ll forget it before the first game’s over.’
‘No, thanks, Jack, not to-night. I don’tfeel fit to compete with your excellent play. I’ll sit here instead and listen to Nora’s singing.’
And he threw himself on a sofa by his wife’s side as he spoke.
‘Ulysses at the feet of Penelope!’ sneered Mr Portland. ‘Well, Ilfracombe, long as I’ve known you, I never saw you turned into a carpet knight before.’
‘Only for this evening,’ said the earl lazily, as he settled himself comfortably on the sofa.
Jack Portland appeared quite aggrieved by his defalcation.
‘Well, come along Sir Archibald and Lumley and the rest of you fellows. Don’t let us waste our time looking at his lordship doing the lardi-dardi. He owes me my revenge for the “fiver” he made me disgorge last night; but I suppose it’s no use trying to get it out of him now.’ And, with a rude laugh, he left the room.
Ilfracombe lent back against the shoulder of his wife, and said,—
‘Sing something, darling, won’t you? Something low and sweet, like “Come to me.” My head is really painful, and I want soothing to-night.’
‘I will sing anything you like,’ replied Nora, as she rose and went to the piano.
Her voice was not powerful, but she had received a first-rate musical education in Malta, and was an accomplished drawing-room singer. She ran through about half a dozen songs, one after the other, accompanying herself with a delicacy of touch and artistic expression which was more than half the battle. Ilfracombe listened to her with a dreamy pleasure, but all the time he was cogitating which would be the best plea on which to induce Nora to leave Usk Hall. He was determined not to run the risk of her meeting Nell Llewellyn again; but she was rather a wilful little lady, and wanted to know the why and the wherefore of everything. She had asked him not to go to Wales, and he had insisted on doing so—she had begged they should not exceed the weekfor which they had accepted the invitation, and he had told her but the day before that he wished to remain as long as Jack did. Now, he had to invent some excuse for leaving directly—what should it be? He was not a bright man; had he been so he would have known by this time that with Nora honesty was decidedly the best policy, because she was not easily deceived; and had he told her the truth, she would have been the first to wish to go. But he had a poor idea of women. He fancied that if his wife heard of the proximity of his former mistress there would be a ‘row’—that Nora would not be able to resist flaunting her triumph in the other woman’s face, nor Nell of telling his wife how far he had forgotten his duty to her in the pleasure and relief of finding that she (Nell) lived. Ilfracombe was a chivalrous gentleman; but it was not in his nature to love as either of these two women (whom he so much distrusted) loved him. But he managed to lay down a plan of action, as he lounged on the sofa listening to hiswife’s singing, and as soon as they were alone he opened fire.
‘Nora,’ he said abruptly, ‘I’ve made up my mind to leave the Hall. How soon can you be ready?’
As he had anticipated, Lady Ilfracombe required to know the reasons which had induced him to alter his plans.
‘Do you mean to go at once?’ she questioned. ‘Why, it was only yesterday that you promised Lady Bowmant to stay until Mr Portland left. Has he altered his plans also, or do you intend to leave without him?’
‘What difference can that make to you?’ he said fretfully. ‘I have always thought that you rather disliked Jack than otherwise.’
‘My likes or dislikes have nothing to do with the matter, Ilfracombe, or we should not be here at all,’ she answered. ‘All I want to know is,whywe are going so suddenly, and what I am to say to our hostess.’
‘Say, why, anything. Surely you areclever enough to invent an excuse without my assistance? Pretend to have received a letter from my mother, who desires us to join her without delay, or get a relation to die for the express purpose. Nothing can be easier to a clever girl like you.’
‘Oh, I can tell as many lies as you wish, Ilfracombe; and as for going I shall only be too delighted to get away. Only it is not treating me fairly to keep me so completely in the dark. Something must have happened to make you so anxious to be off. Now, do tell me,’ she continued, as she seated herself upon his knee, ‘you know I’m as safe as a church. Have you a row on with Portland or any of the others? Or are Lady Bowmant’s attentions becoming altogether too warm? I gave her free leave to make love to you, so you mustn’t judge her too hardly.’
‘No, my dear, don’t be ridiculous; it’s nothing of that sort. But—well, to make a clean breast of it, Nora, the play is awfully hot here; enough to break the Bank of England, and I think it’s gone on quitelong enough. Why, I should be almost afraid to tell you how much money I have lost since coming here. We have an ample fortune; but, as you have often told me, no fortune will bear such a continual strain on it for long. And it’s impossible to refuse playing with one’s host. So I have decided that the sooner we are out of it the better.’
‘You are right,’ said his wife, thoughtfully. ‘I was afraid of this all along. It sounds dreadfully vulgar, I know, but Usk Hall is in reality no better than a private hell. But what will yourfidus Achates, Mr Portland, say to our going so suddenly?’
‘Let him say what he likes,’ replied the earl quickly. ‘I can’t be always answerable to him for my actions. We’ll go straight from here to Wiesbaden and join my mother. No one can reasonably find fault with that.’
‘No one has a right to find fault with anything you may do,’ said Nora, though her curiosity was aroused by hearing herhusband speak so curtly of the opinion of his closest friend; ‘and I’m with you, Ilfracombe, for one. When do you think wecanstart? The day after to-morrow? That will be Thursday.’
‘Couldn’t we manage it to-morrow morning?’ asked the earl anxiously. ‘You received some letters by this afternoon’s post. Say you didn’t open them till bedtime, and then found one from my mother, begging us to join her at once as she is ill. Make Denham pack your trunks to-night, and send word of your intentions to Lady Bowmant the first thing in the morning. Can’t you manage it?’
‘Oh, Ilfracombe, what an arch deceiver and plotter you would make,’ cried the countess, laughing; ‘but, really and truly, I don’t think we can be off quite so soon as that. I’m not sure we should get a train to London to suit us. Besides, unless the dowager were dying, such extreme haste would look very suspicious.’
‘Well, let her die then. You knowwhat I mean. Say the old lady isin extremis, and we can easily revive her as soon as we get over to Wiesbaden.’
‘But what is the necessity for such extraordinary haste?’ demanded Nora. ‘It cannot only be because you have lost money over this visit. Surely the delay of a day or two cannot make much difference in comparison with running the risk of offending people who have honestly wished to give us pleasure? You know what my opinion has been all along, Ilfracombe, that Mr Portland leads you into a great deal of folly, and I shall be but too thankful if this is the end of it; still we owe something to the hospitality of the Bowmants; and now wearehere, I cannot see what harm a day or two more can do us.’
The earl saw that he was worsted in the argument, so he contented himself with begging his wife to make arrangements to leave Usk as soon as she could, determining inwardly not to lose sight of her if possible till she had done so.The announcement next morning of their intended departure gave general dissatisfaction. The Bowmants declared they had not seen half the beauties of the surrounding country, and that they had just made arrangements for a picnic party, and a dance, and a lot of other gaieties. Nora expressed her sorrow at the necessity of cutting their visit short; but the earl said little, and gave one the impression that the sudden determination had not originated with himself. Jack Portland, for one, took it so, and seized the first opportunity he could to speak to Nora on the subject.
‘Well, my lady,’ he commenced, ‘and so this isyourdoing, is it?—your little plan for dragging Ilfracombe from the jaws of the sharks.’
‘I don’t understand you,’ said Lady Ilfracombe.
‘Oh, yes, you do. This sudden idea of leaving the Hall emanated from your fertile brain alone. Ilfracombe had no idea of it yesterday. He told me hewas enjoying himself up to date, and should remain here as long as I did. But you got hold of him last night and forced the poor fellow to follow your lead. I see through it all as plain as a pikestaff.’
‘Then you are utterly mistaken, Mr Portland. I had nothing to do with it. My husband told me yesterday that he wished to go, and it was with some difficulty that I persuaded him not to leave this morning. But that would have seemed so rude to the Bowmants.’
‘But what is at the bottom of it?’
‘You heard me tell Lady Bowmant that we have received a letter from Wiesbaden, to say that—’
‘Oh, stop that rot, do!’ exclaimed Mr Portland elegantly. ‘We can put all that in our eyes and see none the worse for it. It’s therealreason I want to know.’
‘I have no other to give you.’
‘Now, look here, Nora,’ said Jack Portland, turning round short to confront her, ‘I told you very plainly, when we talkedbusiness over at Thistlemere, that I would not brook your interference between Ilfracombe and myself. You have not taken my caution, and must be prepared for the consequences. I daresay you have not forgotten them.’
‘Of course not,’ replied Nora coolly, though her heart beat rapidly with apprehension; ‘but in this instance you blame me unfairly. I give you my word of honour—I swear before heaven, if that will please you better—that I have had nothing to do with this change in our plans; indeed, I argued against it. It was entirely my husband’s proposition, and if you want any other reason but the one I have given you, you must seek it from himself.’
‘Very well, we will drop that branch of the argument. But if you did not originate it, you must prevent it. If you choose to do it, it is in your power, and if you do not choose to do it—well.’
He finished off with a shrug of his broad shoulders, the interpretation ofwhich she knew to be, ‘take the consequences.’
‘You mean that you will produce those letters?’ she said quickly.
‘I do.’
‘And if I consent to use my influence to induce Ilfracombe to remain here, what is to be my reward?’
Mr Portland did not immediately answer, and his silence roused her fears. Nora had often questioned herself which would be the best means by which to regain possession of her letters. She had tried force and argument and entreaty, and all three had failed. This cruel wretch kept her under his thumb by the mere retention of that little packet. She was a woman of courage and determination, and by hook or by crook she meant to have it. Had she lived in a more barbarous time, she would have slunk after him as he went to his nightly rest, and stabbed him, without any compunction, in the back, and been pleased to watch his death struggles, and to hiss into his ear at the last that she wasrevenged. But, however much we may occasionally long to take the law into our own hands, the nineteenth century holds certain obstacles against it. Nora was a woman, also, offinesseand intrigue. She had several times argued whether, in lieu of other ways, she could bring herself to profess a lurking affection for Jack Portland that should bring him once more to her feet, as in the olden days, and make him give for a fancied love what force had no power to wrest from him. This idea flashed into her mind again as she waited for his reply, and felt she would sacrifice everything except her honour to bend him to her will.
‘What is to be my reward?’ she repeated, ‘if I do as you ask? Will you give me the packet?’
Unwittingly he played into her hands.
‘What is to bemyreward if I do?’ he asked.
In a moment Nora had made up her mind. If the great stake at issue, a stake the winning of which meant tosecure the happiness of her whole life, was to be won byfinesse, she would put forth all thefinessein her power to gain it, never mind what the consequences might be. So she looked at him coquettishly and said, like the arch actress he had once called her,—
‘What reward do you want, Jack, besides the condition you have already named?’
‘Come, that’s better,’ said Mr Portland. ‘I haven’t seen a smile like that on your ladyship’s face for many a day. What I want is, a little more affectionate interest from you, Nora, a little more cordiality to your husband’s best friend, a little more familiarity with him before other people, that they may see he isenfant gaté du maison! I am sure you understand me. Also, that you can comply with my wishes if you chose. Be more like what you were in Malta, and I shall feel my reward is equal to my sacrifice.’
‘And the sacrifice, Jack?’ she continued,‘that is to be delivering up the letters you hold of mine.’
‘Certainly, if you care to have them. Now, Nora, I will make a bargain with you,—you shall have your letters as soon as ever you consent to fetch them with your own fair hands.’
‘Tofetchthem?’ she echoed wonderingly.
‘To fetch them. Did I not speak plainly? They are over at Panty-cuckoo Farm with my other things. If you will come to my room this evening, I will engage to deliver your letters to you myself.’
He thought she would have repudiated the proposal as a fresh insult, but, to his surprise, she answered firmly,—
‘Iwillcome, if these are your only conditions, Jack, I agree to them. It is arisquéthing to do, but I will do it. I trust to your honour too implicitly to be afraid of your permitting any scandal to accrue from the act. And if you fulfil your promise, Ilfracombe shall stayon at Usk Hall as long as you do. Is the bargain sealed?’
‘It is,’ replied Mr Portland, with the utmost surprise.
He had not entertained the faintest idea that Nora would agree to visit him at Panty-cuckoo Farm. Was it possible she still retained an inkling of affection for him, and had her constrained manner since her marriage been a blind for her real feelings? Men are so conceited where thebeau sexeis concerned, that Jack Portland, bloated and disfigured as he was by excess and dissipation, was yet quite ready to believe that the Countess of Ilfracombe had been unable to resist the feelings raised in her breast by meeting him again. He had made the proposal that she should fetch her letters herself, because he thought she would guess from that, that he had no intention of giving them up to her; but when she consented to do so, he determined to make her secret visit to him one more terror by which to force her to influence her husband ashe should direct. Now, he hardly knew what he should do. She was coming, that was the extraordinary part of it. Without any pressing or entreaty, the Countess of Ilfracombe was actually coming over to his room at night, to secure her packet of letters. Well, it was the very ‘rummiest go’ he had ever heard of in his life before.
‘You must be very careful that you are not seen to leave the Hall,’ he said to her.
Now that she had agreed to come, he began to wish he had never said anything about it. What if his dear friend Ilfracombe got wind of the matter? Would not that render his wife’s efforts on Mr Portland’s behalf futile ever afterwards? The earl was very suave and easily led; but Jack Portland knew him too well to suppose he would ever forgive an offence against his honour. If Nora’s good name were compromised by his nearest and dearest friend, that friend would have to go, if the parting broke his heart. Addedto which Mr Portland had no idea of getting into even an imaginary scrape for Lady Ilfracombe; he did not like her well enough. He regarded her only as a convenient tool in his hands which he had no intention of letting go.
‘Perhaps, after all,’ he said cautiously, ‘you had better not risk it. Itwouldbe a risk, you know, and it would be awkward to have to give Ilfracombe an explanation of the affair, wouldn’t it?’
‘I shall be careful to run no risk,’ was her reply.
‘But suppose some of the farm people should see you, what excuse could you make for being there?’
‘I should make no excuse at all. I have as much right as other people, I suppose, to take a moonlight ramble. What time shall I meet you? It must not be too late, as I must go upstairs when the other ladies do.’
‘That is not very early, as a rule,’ said her companion; ‘let us say midnight.Ilfracombe will be safe in the card or billiard-room at that time, and not likely to notice what you are about.’
‘And how will you manage to leave the party without observation?’
‘Oh, I shall trust to chance; but you may be sure I shall be there. And—and—if you fail me, Nora, why, I shall understand that you value your reputation more than you do—me, or your husband’s good opinion, because in that case—’
‘I understand. You need not recapitulate. But I shall not fail you. It will seem quite like old times having an assignation with you, Jack. Do you remember the night I met you down by the landing-place at Valetta, and that horrid man Pietro followed me all the way, and only showed his ugly face just as I had reached your side? I always believed that it was Pietro who betrayed us to papa, for he was sometimes very impertinent in his manner to me afterwards. Oh, and have you forgottenthe time when you took me out in a boat and we got caught in a squall, and had to put in to shore, and remained nearly the whole day away in a littleestaminet? What a fearful row papa made about it, and I had to pretend I had been alone, though I don’t think he believed me. Papa certainly did hate you, Jack, though I never could understand why. I suppose it was all the money, or, rather, the lack of it.’
And here Nora heaved a most deceitful sigh.
‘Do you ever regret that there was any obstacle between us?’ asked Mr Portland persuasively. ‘Do you think you could have been happy as Mrs Jack Portland, if Ilfracombe had not come between us?’
‘Why, of course, I told you at the time I should,’ said Nora.
‘Ah, well, perhaps things are better as they are,’ replied her companion; ‘for I don’t think you were ever cut out for a poor man’s wife; you are too pretty and dainty and refined, my lady, for that.And if you had been miserable, I should have been so also. And so you really like me well enough still to meet me at the farm this evening, and fetch your dear little letters. I shall be so glad to have you for a few moments to myself. It will seem quite like the dear old times. Here, I can never say half a dozen words to you without as many old cats prying into our faces. Well,au revoir, my dear, be punctual, as our time will be limited—twelve o’clock to-night. I had better not stand talking to you any longer now.’
‘I will be there,’ answered the countess mechanically, as she turned round and walked another way.