The Knave of Diamonds by Ethel May Dell (book recommendations for teens TXT) 📖

"Only twice! Why, surely it must be three weeks nearly since her accident."
"I believe it is. But it was serious, you know, and she has made a very slow recovery. The doctor has only just allowed her to be removed to another room."
"Poor Lady Carfax!" Dot said again. "Yes, I'll come. I know Dad wouldn't mind!"
So Bertie had his desire and turned the motor with a light heart towards Baronmead. He sang as he drove, sang at the top of his voice; for he was in a happy mood that evening.
And Dot was happy too, though a little nervous. She had often longed to go to Baronmead, and she was already thoroughly at her ease with the master thereof, who sat and conversed beside her in that rather monotonous, tired drawl of his. It was only the thought of Anne that made her nervous. Warmly as she admired her, she was ever so slightly afraid of the stately lady of the Manor, who made friends with so few and for all her queenly graciousness kept those she had at so discreet a distance. Of course everyone knew why. The reason was plain to all who had eyes to see. But that fact did not help any to overstep the barrier, nor did it keep the majority from being affronted. Dot was not of the latter, but she was ever shy in Anne's presence, though it was more the fear of hurting than of being hurt that made her so.
She enjoyed the brisk run to Baronmead with all her healthy soul. As they sped up the long drive they were joined by a galloping horseman, who shouted to Bertie to put on speed and flogged his animal furiously when the car drew ahead. He looked like a demon to Dot in the half-light--a black imp mounted on a black mare riding to perdition. She was glad to leave him behind.
But as they drew up before the great house that loomed gaunt and eerie in the gathering darkness the galloping hoofs drew near again, and before they were out of the car Nap was beside them.
He flung himself out of the saddle, with a curt, "Here, Bertie! Take the brute for me. Mind her teeth! She's in a vile temper."
"What a beast you are!" was Bertie's comment, as he went to the panting animal.
The valet, Hudson, was waiting to help his master out of the car, but Nap pushed him imperiously aside. His quick, lithe movements fascinated Dot. She stood and watched him as he dexterously assisted the heavy, misshapen figure of his brother to alight. He was wonderfully strong for so slight a man. He seemed compacted of muscle and energy, welded together with a certain fiery grace that made him in some fashion remarkable. He was utterly different from any other man she had ever seen.
"Will you go first, Miss Waring?" It was Lucas Errol's voice. He leaned on his brother's shoulder, waiting for her.
Nap glanced round at her. She saw his ironical smile for an instant. "Miss Waring prefers to wait for Bertie, perhaps," he remarked.
The words stung her, she scarcely knew why, and what had been a half-reluctant prejudice before turned to sudden hot antagonism in Dot's heart. She hated Nap Errol from that moment.
But Lucas laid a quiet hand on her arm, and her resentment died.
"I think Miss Waring was waiting for me," he said. "Will you let me lean on you, Miss Waring? Steps are always a difficulty to me."
"Of course," she said eagerly. "Do lean hard!"
It occurred to her afterwards that the valet's assistance would have been more effectual than hers, and at the top of the steps she glanced back at him. He was immediately behind them, laden with some things he had taken from the car. His eyes, as he ascended, were fixed upon Nap, and a curious little thrill of sympathy ran through Dot as she realised that she was not the only person who hated him.
As they passed into the great entrance-hall Bertie came springing up behind them. "I say, can't we have tea here before you go up to see Lady Carfax? It's the cosiest place in the whole house."
A huge fire burned on an open hearth, about which a deep lounge and several easy-chairs were arrayed.
"That will be O.K.," said Lucas. "Fix me up on the settee, Nap."
"You had better go and rest in your room," said Nap. "Bertie and Miss Waring are accustomed to entertaining each other."
Again Dot felt the sting--this time a tangible one--in his words. He was evidently in a stinging mood.
She drew back quickly. "I would rather go straight up to Lady Carfax if I may."
"Oh, I say, don't!" thrust in Bertie with a quick frown. "Lucas, you'll stay, won't you, and have tea with us here?"
"That is my intention," said Lucas, "if Miss Waring will give us the pleasure of her company."
And Dot, though she longed to escape, went forward with him into the glow of the firelight.
She hoped earnestly that Nap would depart, but for some reason Nap was minded to remain. He settled his brother on the cushions and then flung himself into a chair on the other side of the fire. Dot was aware without looking at him that he had her under observation; she felt the scrutiny she could not see, and knew it was malevolent.
Bertie evidently knew it too, for he was scowling savagely in a fashion quite unfamiliar to her. He placed a chair for her close to Lucas.
"I guess we must ask you to do the honours, Miss Waring," the latter said. "My mother must be with Lady Carfax."
"Here's an opportunity for Miss Waring to display her charms!" gibed Nap. "But doubtless Bertie has been initiated in the arts and wiles of tea-making long before this. It's a bewitching performance, eh, Bertie?"
Bertie growled something unintelligible and turned his back.
"Give him plenty of sugar, Miss Waring," recommended Nap. "He's remarkably guileless. With a little patience and subtlety on your part he'll soon come and feed out of your hand. After that, a little feminine persuasion is all that is required to entice the pretty bird into the cage. He's quite a fine specimen; such a lot of gold about him, too! It would be a pity to let him escape. There are not many of his sort, I assure you."
The drawling insolence of the words made Dot quiver all over. She knew by Bertie's rigidity of pose that he was furious too, but she did not dare to look at him. She tried to attend to some remark that Lucas made to her, but she only answered at random. She could not take in what he said.
Perhaps he saw her perturbation, for after a moment he turned from her to Nap and very deliberately engaged him in conversation, while Bertie, very pale but quite collected, sat down by her and began to talk also.
She did her best to second his efforts, but with Nap's eyes openly mocking her from the other side of the hearth, she found it impossible to divert her thoughts.
So they thought that of her, did they? They thought--that! She felt as if she had been publicly weighed in the balances and found wanting. She told herself passionately that she would never, as long as she lived, speak to Nap Errol again. Everyone said he was a bounder, and everyone was right.


CHAPTER XII
BROTHERS

"Come right in!" said Mrs. Errol. "Anne, my dear, here is little Miss Waring come to see you. I'm real pleased to meet you, child. I've watched you in church many a time when I ought to have been saying my prayers, and so has someone else I know."
Dot's cheeks were scarlet as she came forward to Anne's couch. She was still telling herself with fierce emphasis that never, never again would she voluntarily venture herself within the walls of Baronmead.
But when Anne stretched out a hand to her and smiled, all her perturbation vanished at a breath. She went impulsively forward and knelt down by her side. For some reason she did not feel her customary awe of the lady of the Manor. This sad-faced woman with the deeply shadowed eyes aroused within her something that was stronger, something that carried her completely out of herself.
"Oh, are you better?" she said. "I have been so sorry about you."
"It was good of you to come up to see me," Anne said gently. "Yes, Dot, I am better. I am allowed to walk again, and I am going home to-morrow."
"Not if I know it," said Mrs. Errol stoutly. "Or if you do, I go too, to take care of you."
Anne smiled at her without replying. "Sit down, Dot," she said, "and tell me all the news. I know you hear everything."
"But nothing has happened," said Dot. "Everybody is squabbling as usual about the Town Hall, why we want one, why there isn't one, and when we are going to have one. Really, there's nothing else."
"My dear," said Mrs. Errol, "everybody wants a sound spanking, and I should like to administer it. Every township ought to have a public building, and there's my son Lucas wanting nothing so much as to build one and they won't let him."
"I am afraid my husband is the main obstacle," said Anne.
"Then I guess we won't discuss it," said Mrs. Errol firmly. "Who's that scratching at the door?"
It was Bertie, as Anne knew on the instant by Dot's face. "Do ask him to come in," she said kindly.
Bertie came in as one not wholly sure of his welcome, and took up a position in the background. And there during the remainder of Dot's visit he stayed, scarcely speaking, and so sternly preoccupied that Dot's embarrassment returned upon her overwhelmingly, and she very soon rose to go.
He stepped forward then and followed her out. "I am going to motor you home," he said, as he escorted her down the stairs.
Dot nearly stopped short in consternation. "Oh, no, really! I'm going home alone. It's no distance, and I know my way perfectly."
"I'm coming with you," he said doggedly.
But the memory of those eyes that had mocked her across the hall still burned in the girl's heart. She faced him resolutely;
"You are not to, Bertie. I don't wish it."
"I can't help it," said Bertie. "I am coming."
At this point they arrived in the hall, and here she found Lucas Errol waiting to say good-bye to her.
She turned to him with desperate appeal. "Mr. Errol, please don't let Bertie see me home. I--I would so much rather go alone."
She was almost crying as she said it, and Lucas looked at Bertie with most unaccustomed sharpness.
"It's all right," the boy made answer. "We haven't quarrelled yet."
The last word sounded ominous, and with her hand in Lucas's quiet grasp, Dot shivered.
"But I'm sure we are going to," she said. "And I do so hate quarrelling. Do, please, let me run home alone. I'm not a bit afraid."
Lucas began to smile. "I think it's rather hard on Bertie," he said. "However--"
"I must go, Lucas," Bertie said quickly. "You don't understand. There is something I want to explain."
But Lucas leaned a hand upon his shoulder. "Let it keep, dear fellow. There is always tomorrow!"
"No, never, never, never!" whispered Dot to her turbulent heart.
Yet when a moment later Bertie came forward, and silently, without looking at her, held open the door, a wild regret surged fiercely through her, and for that second she almost wished that she had let him go with her.
And then again there came