"What do you mean?"
"Susannah and I were going to be married when Esmond died."
"You ... you killed Esmond."
He gripped my wrist. "Never say that out loud. Esmond died. He had a recurrence of a former illness. This last time he did not recover."
It was all sickening. I was learning so much, but there was one piece of knowledge which gladdened my heart: I had made a mistake about the man who had written those letters; it was not Malcolm but Garth.
Mingling with the terror which Garth created was the delight that Malcolm had never been Susannah's lover and that he was not involved in the murder of Esmond.
Garth came close to me and put his hands on my shoulders. "You and I know too much about each other, little imitation Susannah. We shall have to work together and I see a way. Yes, I do." He lifted my chin in his hands and looked into my face. I shrank from him. I was afraid of the glitter in his eyes. "I came home thinking that this night Susannah and I would be together.
I was starved for Susannah. And she is dead ... that lovely, desirable, wicked insatiable witch is dead. That enchantress of men has gone. The Devil has taken back his own." He almost threw me from him and sat down heavily. He brought down his fist on the dressing table. Then he stared ahead. I wondered what he was going to do next.
Suddenly he began to laugh. "So you died, Susannah. You let me down by dying... . Never mind. I'll get along without you. You've sent me someone who looks a little like you. I could pretend she was you ... at times." He turned to me. "Come here," he said.
"I shall do no such thing. Please go."
"I want to look at you. You've got to make me forget I've lost Susannah."
"I am going to leave the castle," I said. "You must go tomorrow."
"Indeed! The Queen of the Castle speaks. Never mind that she has usurped the crown and I know it. You think I'm going to be ordered about by you, do you? No, little Queen with no right to the crown, you are going to do as I say. Then you can go on being Queen for as long as I shall let you."
"Listen," I insisted. "I'm going to tell them. I'm going away from here. You can do your worst."
"Spirit!" he commented. "And not unexpected. If you'd been spineless you'd never be here, would you? I've a plan forming in my mind and it could be good for both of us. I fancy you, my little one. You are like Susannah ... in a way, and that could be piquant." He took my hand and tried to draw me to him. "Let us put the matter to the test. Let us see if it would work. If I like you I'd marry you. And we'd rule together as Susannah and I promised ourselves we would."
"Please take your hands off me," I cried, "and go. If you don't I shall ring the bell and call for help."
"And what if I were to tell them what a wicked girl you are?"
"You may do so. I intend to tell them myself."
"I believe you would. That would be foolish. It would spoil everything. Malcolm would be proclaimed true heir and we don't want that, do we? No. Keep quiet. I'll make a plan. It'll be like planning with Susannah."
"I shall not make any plans with you."
"You have no help for it. It's either be kind to me or the end of your little game."
"My little game is over now."
"It need not be."
"If the only alternative is to go on planning with you it is definitely over."
"Nice words. Nobly spoken." He swayed on his heels, looking at me. "I like you more every minute. It was a bit of a shock finding you weren't Susannah. But it's no use harking back, is it? I'll go now ... if you want me to. But plans are forming in my head. We are going to make a good thing of this ... you and I together."
I could only say: "Please go ... now... ."
He nodded.
Then he came over to me and kissed me hard on the mouth.
"Oh yes," he whispered, "I like you, little mock Susannah. You're going to come round to my way of thinking. We're going to work our way through this together."
Then he was gone.
I pulled my dressing gown over my shoulders; which were red where he had roughly handled me.
I felt sick and very frightened.
What could I do now?
As I sat there, there was a knock on my door. I sprang up, fearing that he had come back.
"Who's there?" I whispered.
"It's only Janet."
I opened the door.
"My patience me! What's wrong?"
I said: "Nothing ... nothing... . It's all right, Janet."
"Don't nothing me. I know better than that. Garth's been in here. I saw him going out. What's he up to?"
"He knows, Janet."
"I guessed as much. I was afraid when he came. There was something between him and Susannah. There was something between her and a lot of them. She couldn't resist men ... and there's nothing that men like better than that."
"Oh, Janet," I cried wearily, "what am I going to do? I should never have done this."
"Well, you did, and what's done is done. It's brought you back to the castle and that's where you belong by rights. You should have come back and said who you were. I doubt you would have been turned away."
"Janet ... Garth ... who is he?"
"Elizabeth Larkham's boy. He used to be here a lot when he was young. Used to come here because his mother was here."
"Yes, I know that. But who was his father?"
"David of course. Elizabeth was supposed to be a widow, but, well, she'd been David's mistress before she came here ... and Garth was the result. She called herself a widow and came to be under the same roof as her lover. They're like that, these Mate-lands. Always have been through the ages, I reckon. Leopards can't change spots and Matelands can't change their ways either."
I was thinking: Mateland blood! Garth of course. Not Malcolm. I was deeply relieved because Malcolm was completely exonerated.
I found myself telling Janet all that had happened. It was a relief to pour it out. At least I knew that she was a friend. I told her everything about David's encounter with me on my way home from school and how Anabel had come to collect me and we had gone off together.
She listened attentively. She wanted to know how Anabel had lived on the island, about her happiness there.
"And did she ever mention me?" she asked.
"She did," I told her, "and always with affection."
"She should have taken me with her," said Janet. "But then I'd have been blown up and not able to look after you."
"What shall I do, Janet?" I asked. "I must tell them, of course. I'll tell Malcolm tomorrow."
"Yes," answered Janet, "but let's think about it first."
She sat with me until late and then I went to bed. I was so exhausted that, to my surprise, I slept through until morning.
The next day when I arose I learned that Malcolm had gone out and that he would be away all day.
That gave me a day's respite, for I had come to the conclusion that it should be to Malcolm that I made my confession.
I went down to breakfast. I was glad no one was there, for I could only manage a cup of coffee. While I was drinking it, Chaston appeared. Jack Chivers had come to see me again.
I took him into the small room off the main hall where I had seen him before.
"It's Leah again," he told me.
"The baby ... ?"
"No, it's her father. She says to come to her as soon as you can."
I went upstairs, changed into my riding kit and rode over to the cottage.
Leah was waiting, her big eyes showing great concern.
"It's my father again. He's left this for you. He said I was to give it into your own hands."
I took the envelope she gave me, slit it, took out a sheet of paper and read what it contained.
I've got something to say to you, Miss Susannah, and I want to say it quick. You tried to murder Mr. Esmond and my brother was a help to you. He was a good man but you are a witch and there's not many can hold out against witches. Now you've got to pay for it. I want a lease to give me the farm for the rest of my days and then to be renewed for Amos and Reuben. I want new equipment and everything that can make the farm flourish again. You may say this is blackmail. Maybe it is. But you can't betray me without betraying yourself. Come to the barn ... the one where poor Saul hanged himself. Come at nine tonight and have a paper with you promising me what I ask for, and I'll give you my word that I'll keep quiet about what I know. Fail me and the next day everyone will know what you got from Saul and the real reason why he killed himself.
I stared at the paper. Leah continued to watch me, her eyes full of anxiety.
I put the letter in its envelope and thrust them into my pocket.
"Oh, Miss Susannah," said Leah, "I hope it's not too bad."
I looked at her sadly. I thought: I shall never see the baby when it comes. I shall be far away. Where? I wondered. I should never see the castle again. I should never see Malcolm.
I don't know how I got through that day.
Janet came into my room during the morning. On impulse I showed her Jacob Cringle's letter.
"Looks like a bit of blackmail to me," she said.
"He hates Susannah," I replied. "I understand it. He thinks she was responsible for Saul's death."
"You mustn't go there tonight."
"I'm going to tell Malcolm when I see him."
"Yes," said Janet. "Make a clean breast of it. I don't think he'll be too hard. I think he's a bit soft on you. You were such a change ... after Susannah. He couldn't abide her."
"I'll have to go away, Janet. I'll have to leave everything... ."
"You'll be back. I just feel it in my bones. But wait and tell Malcolm. That's your best plan."
"So I thought."
I went out so that I did not need to come back for luncheon. I had another day here, for Malcolm could not be back until late. I would not speak to him today. It would be tomorrow.
I came back and went to my room. It was the middle of the afternoon. I took out Jacob Cringle's letter and read it again.
The strange thing was that I had been turning over in my mind the possibility of giving new equipment to the Cringles' farm, to give Jacob an incentive to work harder, for I knew he was a good farmer. I should in time have given him all he was demanding. But he hated me ... because he thought I was Susannah. I wanted to tell him that I understood, he wanted vengeance. But how could I?
As I sat there, the letter in my hand, the door opened and to my horror I saw that it was Garth.
"Ah, the little impostor," he said. "Are you glad to see me?"
"No," I answered.
"And what have you got there?"
He snatched the letter from me and when he read it his expression changed.
"Silly man!" he said. "He knows too much."
"I am not going to see him," I replied.
"But you must."
"I am going to tell Malcolm as soon as I get the chance. There will be no need for me to see Jacob Cringle."
He was thoughtful, looking at me through narrowed eyes.
"If you don't see him he will come to the castle. He will shout the truth for all to hear. You should see him and explain who you are. Tell him that, and he'll have no case. Susannah is dead. That's the end of it. It's the only way."
"I think I should tell Malcolm first."
"Malcolm will not be back until late tonight. You have to see Jacob first."
I was thoughtful.
"I'll come with you. I'll protect you," he said. "I don't need you with me."
"Very well. But it won't do for him to go about shouting all this." He tapped the letter. "I'll see him tonight. I'll explain." He nodded. To my surprise he did not pester me further.
I had made up my mind. I was going to see Jacob Cringle. I was going to tell him that I was not Susannah, that I had never known his brother Saul and that Susannah was dead. Perhaps that would satisfy him and ease his craving for revenge.
Then I was coming back and I was going to tell Malcolm the truth.
I felt a sense of relief. My mad masquerade was coming to an end. Whatever the price asked, I must pay it and bear whatever was coming to me, for I deserved it.
The day seemed as though it would never end. I was glad when it was time for dinner, though I could not eat. Garth, Emerald and I kept up some sort of conversation. I can't remember what I said but, whatever it was, it was very vague, I am sure. I was thinking all the time of what I was going to say to Jacob Cringle and most of all how I would tell Malcolm afterwards.
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