CHAPTER XLTHE IMPENDING STORM
For a week longer calls and invitations poured in upon the newly wedded couple, and it seemed almost impossible to tear themselves away from London.
But at the expiration of that time Adrian thought they ought not to delay their visit to Vallingham Hall any longer, lest the marriage of Sir Charles should take place, and they be off upon the Continent before they could secure Brownie’s jewels.
Besides, he had it in his power to save his friend from a lifetime of misery, and he felt that he would be doing him a grievous wrong did he not warn him of the precipice upon which he was standing.
Neither did he think it would be right to allow him to go away without acquainting him of the fact that he had a brother living, for, of course, that circumstance alone would make a great difference in his future prospects, and he ought to know of it before the settlements were completed.
Accordingly, on Monday preceding the wedding, which was to occur upon Wednesday, the 11th of June, they went down to West Malling, intending after their errand was accomplished to make Lady Ruxley their promised visit, and then repair to Dunforth Castle for a while.
Lord Dunforth had stipulated that he was to be one of the party whenever they went to Vallingham Hall, consequently they stopped and took him up on their way.
“You will need me,” he had said, “to help prove your property; and since I purchased some of the jewels myself, and have seen them all, I can identify them in case they should attempt to contest your right. Besides, we may as well finish the whole business at once, and I’ll call Helen to account for her part in the drama of my life.”
They arrived at Vallingham Hall about four o’clock, and Lady Randal came to the drawing-room, all smiles, to receive them.
She had recently heard who Brownie was, and of thesudden change in her prospects, so she adopted therôleof ignoring all the “scandalous circumstances” of their marriage which had so shocked her, and was exceedingly gracious to them.
It would be very unwise, she reasoned, to have any falling out with the future Lord and Lady Dunforth.
“How kind of you,” she exclaimed, “to come to us; we ought to have called upon you when we were in London, but we were so hurried with preparations for the wedding that we had no time. And really we were tired out with our trip. You received our cards for the ceremony on Wednesday, I suppose?” she concluded.
“Yes, we received them,” Adrian replied, then added, “but we called to-day to see Mrs. Coolidge and Miss Isabel upon a little matter of business.”
“I presume they will be delighted to see you. Thetrousseauhas just arrived, and we were examining it just as you came. It is perfectly elegant, I assure you, Mrs. Dredmond, and I presume Isabel will take you up to see it; I only hope we shall have a fine day, and that everything will pass off well. How very romantic your marriage was, my dear,” she ran on, heedless of Lord Dunforth’s threatening looks; “we were very much distressed about your sudden disappearance, and I must say, Adrian, you played your part that evening exceedingly well,” and she laughed slyly.
“Played my part well! I do not understand you, madam,” Adrian returned, astonished at the accusation.
“You do not understand, indeed! when you knew all the time where she was, and took her away the very next day to marry her. Really, it is quite an unparalleled case.”
“Lady Randal,” the young man said, sternly, as he saw Brownie’s delicate face flush painfully at these insinuations, “at any other time I should deem your words an unpardonable insult, for I knew no more than yourself where Miss Douglas was at that time; but if you will have the kindness to notify your guests that we wish to see them, that matter, as well as some others, will soon be satisfactorily explained.”
Lady Randal colored with displeasure at his words, but she rang the bell, and sent the servant, who appeared, totell Isabel and her mother that there were callers for them. At Adrian’s request she did not send their names, as he feared they might refuse to see them.
The Coolidges soon presented themselves in the drawing-room, and Sir Charles came with them.
He greeted the guests somewhat coolly, for he could not forget the slight his betrothed had received that evening in London at Manchester House.
Isabel and her mother felt a sudden shock run through all their frame when they saw who were present, but the latter at once resolved to carry a high hand and fight the battle out bravely to the end.
Lord Dunforth and Adrian arose and bowed coldly as they entered, while Brownie inclined her head the merest trifle in the world; but Isabel, ignoring her manner, began gushingly, thinking to take their castle by storm:
“Really, Mrs. Dredmond, you have given us all a terrible fright, but I am rejoiced to find that nothing worse than being married has happened to you. I little thought I should have to tender my congratulations first,” she concluded, turning with a simper to Adrian.
“Yes,” put in her mother, before any one else could speak, “I suppose we shall be obliged to pardon you for causing us all so much terror, since your strange disappearance has terminated so happily.”
Brownie could endure their insolence no longer.
“We will waive that topic, if you please,” she said, icily, “until we have settled a little matter of business. Mrs. Coolidge, I desire to relieve you of a certain casket, with its contents, which belongs to me, and which you have in your possession.”
Mrs. Coolidge was equal to the situation. Turning to her daughter, she said:
“Oh, yes; Isabel, won’t you go and get it? Of course, she needs it now. If we had only known your address,” she added, graciously, turning to Brownie, “we might have forwarded them to you.”
Isabel arose to do her mother’s bidding, and she whispered to her as she did so:
“You must manage some way to get Sir Charles out of the room, and keep him out.”
Isabel turned to go, and got as far as the door, when she looked back at Adrian and his wife, and said, with a slight blush:
“As long as this is a business call to mamma, may I beg you to excuse Sir Charles and me? I assure you we are very busy at present.”
They bowed coldly, and then turning to her lover, she said:
“Sir Charles, may I speak with you privately?”
He arose and followed her from the room with a perplexed brow. He did not exactly like being called from guests in this way.
“What does all this mean?” he demanded, when they were alone in the hall.
“It means that when Miss Douglas went away from us she left a box containing some valuables with papa for safe keeping,” was the glib reply.
She had been expecting some such question, and had the answer all ready.
“But I thought she was dismissed.”
“So she was. She did not behave with propriety, and mamma would not keep her longer. Papa did not like it very well, for he was bewitched with her pretty face, and they were good friends, so she left the box with him until she should be settled somewhere else. You know what happened after that, and we have never had an opportunity to return her property, which papa left in our keeping, until now.”
“What did she do that was so very improper while she was with you?” he asked. “I have never heard.”
“Really, Charles,” Isabel replied, flushing and pouting in a grieved way, “I do not like to enter into particulars quite so minutely; but if you must know, why, you must, I suppose. One day mamma and I were out on a shopping expedition, when we were obliged to return much earlier than we expected to. On entering the library, we found Miss Douglas lying in Wilbur’s arms, with apparently as much composure as if she were reclining upon a couch.”
“Is that so!” exclaimed Sir Charles, much shocked. “She does not seem like such a person at all.”
“Oh, no; and when mamma talked with her about it,she put on that haughty, queenly air which you noticed the other evening in London, and again this morning, and would listen to nothing.”
“But did your father uphold her in this?” Sir Charles asked her, gravely.
“Oh, no, indeed; but she had so bewitched Wilbur that he took all the blame upon himself, and told papa something so that he excused it, and she made him think she was the injured one, after all.”
Isabel was almost frightened at herself as she coined these base falsehoods; but she felt that the truth must be concealed from him for the next two days at all hazards. If she could only bridge them over until the fatal vows were spoken, and she was once mistress of Vallingham Hall, all would be well.
“I never would have believed her to be guilty of such indiscretions if you had not told me,” Sir Charles said, not yet wholly convinced, but greatly disturbed by the account.
“No, you would not, nor any one else, she is so demure and ladylike,” Isabel hastened to say, with every appearance of fairness. “But she never met Mr. Dredmond, to my knowledge, more than three or four times in her life; and, to my mind, it does not look just right for her to run away to be married to him upon so short an acquaintance.”
“That is so. It does not seem just the thing, I must confess. And I am surprised at Adrian, too. I thought him a man of more depth,” Sir Charles assented, gravely. Then, with a fond glance into the face of his betrothed, he asked: “But what did you wish of me? Can I do anything for you?”
“Yes, indeed; but you nearly made me forget, with all your catechising,” she laughed, and then went on: “I find that my dress is altogether too loose, and I must have a seamstress to fix it immediately; then I find I neglected to get a pair of pearl-colored gloves to match my traveling suit. Would you mind riding over to the village to attend to it?”
She did not need either, but she must get rid of him.
“No, indeed; but will it not do as well a couple of hourshence? Our callers in yonder might think me ungracious to go away while they are here.”
Isabel’s heart sank; she must get him away at once if possible; she knew that Adrian Dredmond would allow no part of their meanness to be concealed, and there would probably be a hot battle before they were through. But she thought if she could only get her lover away from it all, maybe they could come to some terms with Lady Randal to conceal the affair from him; for she knew she was as anxious as any one for the marriage to come off. But it would not do to let him mistrust how anxious she was, so she replied, hesitatingly:
“It might do if it were not for the dress—that must be attended to at once; and then if you do not succeed in matching my dress in gloves, I shall have to send up to town for them, and you know we have no time to spare.”
“Would it not do to send a piece of the dress and let Brown do the errand? I really do not like to seem uncourteous, notwithstanding their treatment of us the other evening,” he replied.
Isabel flushed angrily at the remembrance.
“No, indeed, I should not dare trust Brown; and then you forget you have not given your instructions concerning the bell, which was to be made at the village florists, as there were not japonicas enough in the greenhouse here,” Isabel said, catching at this device for getting him away. “Besides,” she added, “this is only a business call, you know.”
He began to notice her anxiety in spite of her forced composure, and with a searching look into her face he replied, as he turned away:
“True, I had almost forgotten about that. I will attend to your commissions at once.”
She told him to wait one moment while she procured a piece of silk to match the gloves by; and he stood there with bent head and contracted brow until she returned with it, and then, without a word, he passed out toward the stables.
The guilty girl then sped back again to her room as if on wings to bring the casket, anxious to have everythingsettled, and those wretched marplots out of the way before his return.
As she re-entered the drawing-room she saw at a glance that her mother was very much disconcerted about something, and she heard Adrian say, sternly:
“Then, madam, you still assert that you were very much surprised, as well as distressed, at Miss Douglas’ disappearance?”
“Certainly; how could it be otherwise?” she demanded, haughtily, but very pale.
“Were you a man,” he returned, with biting scorn in his tones, “I should not thus privately bandy words with you—you should answer publicly for what you have done; and it is time your complicity in this matter be exposed.”
“I beg your pardon,” she interrupted, “but Isabel has returned with the box for which you came, and as we are extremely busy, you will kindly excuse us from a longer interview.”
She arose as if to leave the room, but Adrian advanced a step or two, and said, firmly:
“Not so, madam; you have done my wife altogether too much injury, and covered up your iniquity too long to admit of my keeping silence now. You have sneered and tried my patience beyond endurance to-day with your insinuations concerning a ‘clandestine marriage,’ and it is but just and right that she should be exonerated in the presence of Lady Randal from all blame for what you, by your cruelty, drove her to.”
“Good heavens! Adrian explain yourself. I am all in a maze! What do you mean by all this talk about complicity, iniquity, and cruelty?” demanded Lady Randal, looking from one to another in perplexity.
Adrian, in the fewest words possible, told the story of the jewels, and her ladyship knew before he had finished that every word he uttered was truth.
She, too, began to grow pale and nervous, as she realized that his wife was the niece of the woman whom she had so deeply injured, and conscience stung her sharply as these memories of the past were revived.
“Mrs. Dredmond,” said Lady Dunforth, who hadscarcely spoken yet, “will you please open that casket, and allow me to look at its contents?”
Brownie lifted the lid, for the lock had been forced after she had taken the key, and it was only fastened by the spring, and revealed the glittering treasures it contained.
Lady Randal uttered a cry, and gasped out:
“I might have known it in the first place. I thought I had seen them before, especially those corals.”
“Ah! you recognize the corals, then? Possibly you remember the first and only time this lady’s aunt wore them, years and years ago?” said his lordship, with bitter irony, while his own face blanched and great drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead. “Those jewels,” he went on, striving for composure, “were given to Miss Mehetabel Douglas, the grandaunt of Mrs. Dredmond, more than forty years ago. I myself presented those corals, also that tiara, with one or two other pieces. The others were given her in honor of her approaching marriage with myself.”
Mrs. Coolidge nearly screamed at this announcement. Yes, she saw it all now; the mystery was all explained—the titled names upon the dancing card, the faded flowers, and everything which had so puzzled her.
But Brownie, thinking a little more explanation was necessary, lifted the velvet bed, and taking up that dancing list, passed it to him, and asked him to unlock the secret of it, since it had greatly troubled Mrs. Coolidge and her daughter.
He took it; but his hand shook as with the ague, as he read the names upon it.
“This,” he said, turning first to Mrs. Coolidge, then to Lady Randal, with stern brow, “is the order of dances as they occurred upon a certain occasion at the house of your aunt, Lady Ruxley, more than forty years ago. Do you remember, Helen?”
“Yes, I remember,” her lips articulated, while her eyes seemed fastened, as if by fascination, upon him.
He referred to the card again, and though his face was ghastly from the pain he was suffering, he went on:
“Do you remember a certain Count de Lussan who was present that evening?”
She bowed her head. She would not have spoken at that moment to save her life, so great was the fear in her heart, while all the events of that fatal night rose up before her with a vividness which turned her sick and faint.
“Do you know how it happened that a man of his character was present among respectable people?”
“Yes; he came at my brother’s invitation, my lord,” she said, lifting her head, and speaking defiantly.
“True; but at your invitation, and to serve a vile purpose of your own. It was through your maneuvering that he was introduced to Miss Douglas, and it was your taunts which spurred her on to disgrace herself and dance with him, in spite of her better judgment and my persuasions. I mistrusted something of it when it was too late, and you, by that last vile act, which I have only recently discovered, had separated us forever.”
“And pray what terrible deed have you discovered at this late day?” her ladyship demanded, sarcastically, although she was colorless as a piece of marble, and her lips twitched nervously.
“This! Do you remember ever seeing it before?”
He took from his pocket a folded paper, yellow and creased with age, and advancing, gave it into her hands.
For an instant she sat like one stunned, but she was livid even to her lips, and a trembling seized her which shook her like a reed.
“Where did you get this?” she whispered, hoarsely, after a moment.
“Accident threw it into my hands—how, it does not matter now; but it reveals all your vile plot to separate Meta and me, in which you succeeded only too well.”
“But how do you know that I had anything to do with this note? I do not see that you have proved what you assert at all,” she said, bridling.
“She gave that note to a servant to bring to me, you met her on the stairs, said you would deliver it, and then came and told me that Meta refused to see me then or at any other time; have I proved my point now?” he asked, sternly.
She saw all was discovered, and made no reply, and he went on:
“Mrs. Dredmond, as you know already, is my Meta’s grandniece. At her aunt’s death she found herself very unexpectedly reduced to the necessity of earning her own living. She found a place as governess in Mrs. Coolidge’s family, and came abroad with them. One day when she was out, she,” pointing to Isabel, who sat pale and cowering, “entered her room, where she discovered this casket of jewels. She took them to her mother, and they both came to the conclusion that a poor governess had no business with such valuables—that she must have stolen them! They accused her of it upon her return, and refused to give up the jewels until she could prove them to be hers.”
“Why didn’t she demand them, and take the law to enforce her rights then?” demanded Lady Randal, sharply. “It does not sound like a very probable story to me. How do you know she is Meta Douglas’ niece? I believe you’ve been taken in yourself.”
She was determined not to believe anything against her guests if she could help it. Matters had gone so far now, that she could not have the match between Sir Charles and Isabel broken off; the scandal of it would be unbearable, to say nothing of the loss of Isabel’s fortune, which she believed to be enormous. They had been expecting Mr. Coolidge for a week, and thought surely he would be there to-day, when the settlements were to be arranged, and there must be no trouble now.
“We have indisputable proof, Lady Randal; and as for Miss Douglas taking the law to enforce her rights, she fully intended to do so when she left Mrs. Coolidge’s house; but you remember the accident which occurred, and which threw her into your family; and then before she was fully recovered Lady Ruxley brought her down here.
“The day when she so strangely disappeared she met Miss Coolidge in the upper corridor, as she was going out for her walk. She again demanded her property, and was again refused. Upon returning to the hall, in passing Miss Isabel’s room, she saw the casket upon the table, she entered and took it, and was about leaving the room when Mrs. Coolidge confronted her, demanding that sheput down the casket. She refused, when the woman locked the door, putting the key in her pocket, saying she could not leave the place until she relinquished it.”
“Really, Lady Randal,” interrupted Mrs. Coolidge, rising, apparently in great wrath, “I cannot remain to endure further insult!”
“Please be seated,” she returned, “we will hear this whole story now. I must confess it does not sound very plausible to me, but we will hear their side, and then your own.”
She little thought how the “whole story” would affect her!
“Go on,” she added, to Lord Dunforth; but Adrian now took up the story.
“Miss Douglas utterly refused to give up her property again, and the two had a stormy scene, until Mrs. Coolidge finally professed to be willing to temporize with her, and pretending to take her into her own room, enticed her into a secret chamber which she had discovered——”
“What! the treasure chamber!” ejaculated Lady Randal, excitedly, and losing all her color again.
“I do not know what the place is called,” Adrian replied, “but she locked her within it, and kept her there without food or light, or even a chair to sit upon until midnight, when she and her daughter sought her again, and, by stratagem and force combined, succeeded in getting possession of the jewels again. Then they brought her food and bedding, telling her she was to remain there until after the wedding, since they could not run the risk of her making them trouble and interfering with their prospects.”
“’Tis false!” shrieked Isabel, nearly beside herself.
“Be quiet, my daughter,” said Mrs. Coolidge, soothingly. Then turning to Lady Randal, she asked: “Can you believe such a tissue of falsehood? No one has seen the girl from the time she parted with my children in the park that day until after her marriage. It is a preposterous story, and only fabricated to save the parties most interested from the scandal usually attending a clandestine marriage. Besides, what is all this talk about a secret chamber?” she concluded, scornfully.
Lady Randal looked at her in a dazed kind of a way, while a terrible fear was tugging at her heart.
“But how could she know there is a secret chamber unless she had seen it?—and it leads from Isabel’s room. Go on, Adrian, I must hear all now,” she said, in a low, concentrated tone.
He gave her a look of compassion, and resumed:
“Miss Douglas arranged her bed, striving to make the best of her situation, and, being very weary, soon fell into a sound slumber. She was not conscious of how long she had slept, but she was suddenly awakened by a feeling that some one was in her room, and upon opening her eyes saw the strangest being she ever beheld kneeling by her side.”
“Oh, heavens!” breathed Lady Randal, sinking back in her chair, and covering her face with her trembling hands.