CHAPTER NINE

But John knew that he could not allow himself to brood. At any moment the first guests would be arriving and he must be in position to greet them. These would be the ones who had come some distance and must be accommodated overnight.

"They are going to be on us at any moment," he told Pharaoh.

"Very good, Your Grace."

He began to urge the others to calm down and then to leave. In a few minutes there was only John, Gina and Benedict left.

"I still have some errands for Lady Evelyn," Gina said and hurried away.

"John," Benedict said, sounding awkward.

"What is it, old fellow?"

"Nothing, just – good luck. I know how important tonight is to you."

"More important than anything has ever been in my life," John replied.

"The thing is – a man doesn't always choose what happens to him – and what he does about it."

John frowned, alerted by a strange note in Benedict's voice. But then his brow cleared as he realised what his friend was really saying.

"He cannot choose where he falls in love, can he?"

"That's just it," Benedict said, relieved. "It can happen when you least expect it – like a bolt from the blue."

"Yes," John murmured. "I know."

So he really would have to face it, he thought. Benedict and Gina. He had watched it happen under his nose and only half understood.

Tonight they would announce their betrothal and he would smile and pretend to be pleased for them.

And he would never be happy again.

"The point is," Benedict was continuing with difficulty, "my father always preached that there were more things that mattered than human happiness and they should not be taken at someone else's expense. What do you think?"

John pulled himself together. He had promised Gina to stay true to the best in himself and now that he could do her a service, he would hold to that promise, whatever it cost him.

"What I think," he said, "is that there is too little happiness in the world and if you have the chance, you should take it. Does she love you?"

"Oh, yes, she says she loves me as I love her."

John winced, but tried to hide it.

"Good luck to you old fellow. Marry her with my blessing."

Benedict's round honest face shone.

"I say, that's wonderful. I had never hoped – thanks old chap."

He hurried away, leaving John standing alone in the echoing hall.

He tried not to think of Benedict rushing to Gina, taking her in his arms, celebrating their mutual joy.

And Gina, raising her beautiful eyes to the man she loved, never knowing that there was another man who loved her, although he had only discovered the depth of his longing too late.

It was all over now, except that it had never really begun. He had lost her, but she had never been his. And now he must learn to live without her.

A figure appeared at the far end of the gallery.

"John," Lady Evelyn called. "What are you doing loitering here? Guests are beginning to arrive."

"Very well, Mama. I am coming."

Goodbye to hopes of love, he thought, as he took his place beside his mother at the foot of the stairs leading into the downstairs hall.

They began to arrive, the Duke of this, the Marquis of that, Earls, Viscounts, Knights, Baronets. Lady Evelyn's performance was flawless. She greeted them all graciously and received many glances of admiration for her beauty.

There were sons, too, heirs to great titles, who eyed Drusilla with longing. She had no money, of course, but she was sister to a Duke and that could be as good as a dowry.

She returned their glances, her eyes lingering on handsome sons, who smiled back and begged her for dances as soon as they could get a private word with her.

She looked magnificent in the white gown of a debutante, with white rose buds in her hair and a pearl pendant about her throat.

Now the musicians were arriving, taking their place in the balcony above the floor where the dancers would soon be.

John walked upstairs to take a last look at the picture gallery and stood listening as a violinist tuned up.

After a moment, Gina appeared and stood for a moment, also listening.

"Did you notice how delightful your sister looks?" she asked.

"Indeed. Let's hope this works and we will see off Arthur Scuggins."

"Poor man," Gina said, "you are very unkind about him."

"I intend to treat him with perfect courtesy. May I say that you look delightful?"

Gina was dressed very simply in a honey-coloured gown of satin and lace. A single strand of pearls encircled her neck and she carried an ivory fan.

"Thank you, kind sir."

"You must promise me a dance."

But she shook her head.

"Gina, are you saying that you will not even dance with me?"

"You will not have the time. Your whole evening will be filled with duty dances. And then, of course, you must spend some time on the main business of the evening, persuading people to help the castle."

"Oh, yes!" He gave a sigh.

"What is it, John?"

"Now that it has come to the point, I would give anything not to have to do it. If only I could find some way of saving the castle by my own best efforts."

He took her hands and spoke ruefully.

"I am an ungrateful dog to say such a thing, after all your hard work. Forgive me."

"But there is nothing to forgive," she said earnestly.

"Of course I always knew that you wouldn't do this if you had the choice. But there was no choice and I only wanted to find a way to help."

"And you have helped. Nobody has worked as hard as you or been so clever – no, not clever – brilliant."

"Brilliant?" Her eyes teased him. "And me a mere woman?"

"My dear, won't you forget whatever stupid words I may have said? I have learned so many things from you."

"Oh, yes," she said wryly. "I am an excellent teacher."

"You are a very great deal more than that and you know it. And if you are a teacher – you are the best kind, one who teaches by inspiring her pupils. You have inspired me to do what I must do tonight."

"I know you will do whatever you feel is right," she muttered.

In her heart she was sure that he was telling her that he had decided to marry Athene. After tonight he would be the promised husband of another woman and she had only herself to blame.

In a sense this moment between them was a kind of goodbye.

Her heart ached.

Above them the violinist had begun to play a soft waltz.

"If you won't dance with me at the ball, then you must dance with me now," John asked, holding out his arms.

She went into them and he began to waltz her gently about the floor, dipping and swaying in time to the music.

"Whatever happens tonight will be your success," he murmured. "Aren't you proud?"

Dumbly she shook her head. Tears glistened in her eyes.

He saw them and suddenly nothing could have stopped him kissing her. He bent his head and laid his lips against hers and found her as sweet as he had dreamed she would be.

For a delicious moment her soft, warm breath was against his mouth and he was in Heaven.

"Gina –"

And then the moment was gone. He saw her eyes, wide and horrified and felt her pull away.

"Gina –"

"No – no, we mustn't –"

She freed herself and backed away from him.

"Please John, this cannot happen – let us forget – we must forget –"

"Can you forget?" he asked her, almost angrily.

"I must – I must –"

Her voice floated back to him as she fled.

He followed her out into the corridor, then the main staircase, but she was running fast and all he could see now was a pale figure, vanishing into the gloom of another corridor.

Perhaps, he thought, she had run to Benedict, to tell him how shamefully his friend had behaved, only a short time after uttering generous words.

He was about to turn away when he became aware of Pharaoh gliding across the hall below. With him was a man he had never seen before. He was elderly, bespectacled, grey-haired and as thin as a rail, dressed in clothes that were neat but inexpensive, and he was hurrying along as though driven by some urgent purpose.

"Pharaoh," John called over the banister.

But neither of the men seemed to hear him and then they were gone.

And now it was time for the ball to begin and John must play his part.

More guests were arriving, among them Athene's parents, a large prosperous looking father, and a tiny shrewish woman with sharp eyes that saw everything, and made everybody feel uncomfortable.

Her glance raked her daughter up and down, as though demanding of Athene why there had not yet been an announcement.

John was charming to her, feeling sorry for Athene.

At the door Pharaoh called imposingly,

"Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Wilton."

A fine looking couple appeared. The man was tall and well built, the woman elegant in a red velvet dress with rubies set in gold surrounding her neck.

John saw Gina hurry up to them, hands outstretched in greeting.

"These are my parents," she said, drawing them closer and introducing them to John and Lady Evelyn.

While they were thanking their hostess for taking care of their daughter for the last two weeks, and being assured that Gina was the most delightful guest imaginable, John took the opportunity to study Mr. and Mrs. Wilton and immediately liked them.

There was a warmth and kindliness that emanated from them and the clear affection that united the three of them was one of the most attractive and enviable things he had seen for a long time.

He would have liked to engage them in conversation, but Drusilla was pulling at his arm.

"He's here," she cried excitedly. "My Mr. Scuggins is here."

"Then try to greet him calmly," he cautioned. "More like a lady, less like a hoyden."

"I am a perfect lady," she replied haughtily.

Footsteps were approaching. In another moment the family would be treated to the appearance of my Mr. Scuggins. They all braced themselves.

The footman stood to attention and announced,

"Mr. Arthur Scuggins."

A shadow darkened the doorway. He was upon them.

To say that Arthur Scuggins was not what any of them had expected was to understate the case. His figure was tall, lean and elegant and he was dressed with perfect propriety.

He was about forty years of age and everything about him bespoke a quiet, serious man. The only sign of flamboyance was the diamond that glittered in his neck cloth. One glance at that jewel convinced John that Mr. Scuggins was as wealthy as Drusilla had claimed.

As he made his way across the floor towards them, John realised that the fat, elderly vulgarian he had been expecting had never existed outside his prejudices.

"Your Grace," he said calmly with an inclination of his head.

"Call me Chesterton," John said at once. "I believe I am much in your debt for your kind services to my sister."

He introduced his mother, who also thanked him profusely. Then he could turn his attention to Drusilla, and John was startled by the light that came into his eyes as he beheld his lady love.

How, John wondered, had his shallow, selfish, featherbrained little sister ever managed to attach this man?

Doubtless, the answer was her youth and beauty. Clearly Scuggins could do better, but as a good brother, it behoved John to make sure they tied the knot as quickly as possible.

The music began. He led Athene into the dance. Benedict gave his arm to Gina, while Drusilla virtually hurled herself at Arthur Scuggins.

But when the first dance was over, a demon seemed to take possession of Drusilla. She did not dance with Arthur Scuggins again, which was understandable at first, as she had many duty dances to do.

But all of her dances were with handsome young men with whom she flirted outrageously. As the evening went on she passed from one to the other, laughing, teasing and making coy overtures.

When Arthur Scuggins ventured to approach her, she giggled and told him that she had far too many partners to spare him another dance. His response to this was to bow quietly and leave her.

"If you are trying to make him jealous you are being very stupid," John told her fiercely when he could grasp her for a moment.

"Who cares? You don't want me to marry him anyway."

"That was before I met him. Now I begin to think he is a sight too good for you."

She shrugged.

"I can do as I please. He won't say anything."

"Well, I will say that you are a little fool, and I am ashamed of you."

She flounced off into the arms of another partner, a man John disliked. He had cold predatory eyes and had made certain that he danced with the wealthy Athene before the penniless Duke's sister.

He looked around for Athene, but could not see her. Her parents, too, seemed to be searching for her. Not finding her, they approached John and her father cleared his throat.

"We were wondering when would be the best time for a serious talk, Your Grace."

"I will be delighted to talk with you, but first I must attend to urgent business. If you will excuse me."

It was almost time for him to gather his guests together and explain what was on his mind, and however reluctant he might be, he was briefly glad of it, since it enabled him to put off the moment with Athene's parents.

He looked for Gina, but was unable to see her either. Probably the two girls were somewhere alone, touching up each other's hair, which the dancing might have disarranged.

But she ought to be here. He hunted for her and at last realised that he would have to do it without her. He felt strangely abandoned.

*

Gina seldom danced, acting chiefly as a right hand to Lady Evelyn. And at some point in the evening she had noticed Pharaoh behaving strangely. He came and went at unexpected moments and was absent frequently.

When she next saw him, she took firm hold on him.

"Pharaoh," she said urgently. "Something is happening, isn't it?"

"Yes, madam."

"Can you not tell me what it is?"

"If you would follow me, madam."

He led her along dark corridors until they came to the room where he had been working. There she found Timmy and Roly, who had been officially sent to bed hours ago, full of excitement.

There was also a lean, grey-haired man with spectacles. He was peering through a magnifying glass at one of the pictures.

"Haven't changed your mind, have you?" Pharaoh asked him.

"Oh, no, no, not at all," the man murmured.

"Miss Wilton," said Pharaoh, "allow me to introduce Jake Norris. He is an art expert. Do I say art expert? No. He is the art expert."

It was then that Gina noticed something different about the picture.

"Isn't that the Crossing of the Rubicon?" she asked.

"It was," Pharaoh answered. "Until I removed it."

"Removed it? How?"

"Cleaned it off and revealed the picture underneath. That's what Jake has been studying and he has made a discovery, haven't you Jake? Jake?"

"Eh? What?" Jake looked up, his eyes vague. "You know, this is really most interesting."

"You had better tell Miss Wilton."

So Jake explained. Gina listened with wide eyes and when he had finished she sat down as if the breath had been knocked out of her.

"Whatever will John say when he hears this?"

"He won't have to raise money tonight now," Roly piped up.

"He'll like that," Timmy added.

Gina took a deep breath.

"But it's too late," she said. "He is gathering everyone to make a start. What can I do? I cannot dash in while he's talking, drag him away and then leave him to go back and tell everyone he didn't mean it."

"But he should know about this discovery before he commits himself," Pharaoh pointed out.

The boys were looking at each other, their eyes gleaming.

"Would you like to hear a plan?" Timmy asked.

"What sort of a plan?" Gina asked cautiously,

"A deep, dark, devilish plan," Roly supplied.

"Yes, I think I might be interested."

They explained. When they had finished Gina said urgently,

"We must move fast."

"You'll have to talk to the others," Timmy said. "They won't do what we tell them, but they will for you."

"Let's get to work," she urged.

*

Down below, John had returned to the ball, silenced the orchestra and commanded the attention of the guests.

"I am sorry to interrupt your enjoyment," he began, "but I have something to say that I hope you will be interested to hear."

They turned to regard him, their faces full of attention and anticipation. John took a deep breath.

The moment had come.

"This is the first ball that has been held in the castle for nearly thirty years," he said. "One or two of you here now were here then and can remember what a fine place this was, in its prime."

Murmurs of agreement went around the gathering.

John paused for a moment. Then he added very quietly,

"Look at it now. What has happened? How is it possible that we could neglect anything so fine as this castle, which was meant to be cherished by us, our children and their children?"

He realised that there was absolute silence in the hall. Everyone was listening intently.

"How is it possible?" he asked. "How did it ever happen that the castle, which meant so much to our ancestors, should be in such a state as it is today? It is almost in ruins and unless we stop it, it will soon be just a pile of rubble and will be lost for ever."

Suddenly it was difficult for him to go on. The next stage was asking them for money and his pride held him back. It was vitally necessary, but now that the moment had come, he was reluctant.

Then, before he could continue, a strange noise floated through the gallery.

"Whooooo – ooooooh!"

Silence.

Everyone was looking around them, trying to work out what the noise was and where it had come from.

"It was probably the wind," John said. "As I was saying –"

"Whooooo – ooooooh!"

This time his audience looked around them more anxiously, frowning, baffled, beginning to become a little nervous.

"What is it?" asked an apprehensive young lady.

"Nothing, I do assure you," John answered, but he was interrupted by a shriek from the back of the crowd.

"I saw something."

"Where? Where?" everyone wanted to know.

"There! A figure in a white sheet. It's a ghost."

"Of course it isn't a ghost," John said, raising his voice to quell the hubbub that had been created. "We don't have any ghosts."

"Yes, we do," Drusilla put in. "There's the headless lady and the man who died on the gallows and –" "Whooooo – ooooooh!"

"There it is," someone shouted.

"No – there."

"There's one over there!"

Under cover of the commotion John hissed into his sister's ear,

"If you say another word I will make you sorry you were born."

"It's not my fault," she asserted, all injured innocence.

"It's the fault of those two little fiends from hell who call themselves my brothers. I don't know what they are playing at but –"

"Whooooo – ooooooh!"

He stopped because his attention had been drawn to a sheeted figure standing motionless on the upper gallery. It was gigantic, evidently the spirit of some huge ancestor.

Or Harry in a sheet.

"Just what is going on," John muttered wrathfully.

Even as he looked, the figure began to move back, until it had vanished.

It was too late now to calm the crowd. Sheeted figures were running hither and thither from door to door. Ladies were beginning to scream and the men to shout. A riot was developing.

"Everybody – please –" he called.

Then he felt a hand plucking at his sleeve and he was being dragged irresistibly away, with no chance to object until he found himself right out of the gallery and the door closed behind him.

"I am sorry, John," Gina whispered, releasing him, "but I had to get you away before you could say any more."

"But I have got to say more. This whole plan –"

"May not be necessary after all."

"Whatever are you talking about?"

"I want you to come with me and trust me," she said urgently. "Come now."

Without waiting for his answer she took his hand and began to lead him quickly away.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"You will see," was all she would say as she hurried along.

Higher and higher they went, until they reached the room where the pictures were stored. There they found Pharaoh and Jake Norris.

"Here he is," Gina told them.

"What is this all about?" John demanded.

"Tell him about the picture," Pharaoh said, rubbing his hands with glee.

Jake Norris looked up.

"You are – er – the Duke? The owner of the Rembrandt?"

"Rembrandt?" John echoed. "I don't own a Rembrandt."

"This picture isn't yours?"

"Yes, of course it's mine, but it is not a Rembrandt."

"Oh, dear me, yes it is. A very fine example of his later work. Quite incredibly valuable."

John stared at him.

"Are you quite certain of what you are saying?"

"Totally certain. As soon as my good friend –" he indicated Pharaoh, "notified me that he had discovered one picture beneath another and he thought it was a Rembrandt, I dropped everything and came straight here."

"You did that?" John asked Pharaoh. "But how did you know?"

"I am familiar with various artistic styles," Pharaoh replied vaguely.

"Best forger in the business," Norris declared, not mincing matters.

"I don't care what he was," John said. "Is he right about this?"

"No doubt of it."

"And there are a couple of other pictures that I think would yield interesting results if I cleaned off the surfaces," Pharaoh added.

"Then you had better get on with it while I am still here," Norris said. "But this picture alone, Your Grace, will bring you a very considerable fortune."

"I know you were reluctant to take the final step to raise the money," Gina admitted. "We had to stop you before you went any further."

"So you thought of the ghosts?"

"Actually that was Timmy and Roly's idea. I went round our friends and persuaded some of them to help."

"Yes, I recognised Harry."

John sat down suddenly and dropped his head into his hands. When he looked up at Gina, his eyes were shining.

"Do you realise what this means?"

"Yes," she said eagerly. "You are saved. Oh, John, just think of it! You are saved."