Daughter of Satan by Jean Plaidy Page B

know that all this talk of witchcraft wearies me. Of course you are not with me. You are as superstitious as any. Well, let us hope you will grow out of it. In any case, you will help me with this girl for your own reasons. Well, we both have our reasons. Now, promise me you will say nothing to anyone – not even your father – of the girl’s being here. Give me your word as a gentleman.’
    â€˜I give my word. Now have I your leave to retire?’
    Richard nodded.
    Bartle went on: ‘Good day to you, sir. Good day, Tamar.’ He threw her a kiss. ‘To our next merry meeting. May it be as merry as this one.’ He held up a hand. ‘See! it bears the mark of your teeth to remind me of you. Your gown is ugly. I hate your gown. I like you so much better without it.’
    The door shut on him and they heard him singing as he went downstairs.
    Richard looked at Tamar. What can I do with her? he asked himself. How can I hide her? He shrugged his shoulders. In spite of his outward calm, he was excited. Life had beenmonotonous since the sudden death of that dear friend of his, the widow who had lived at Pennie Cross.
    Tamar was eating noisily. Her eyes met his and she smiled.
    Her trust in him was complete; and sensing it, he felt a pleasure which surprised him.
    Tamar remained in Richard’s study for two days before her presence was discovered; and she had herself to blame for that.
    She was not yet accustomed to the grandeur of the room, and she would walk about it, touching the furnishings and the table, the bookshelves and the oak chest. She sat on the stools and the chair; she gazed in wonder at the tapestry. There was, moreover, a glass mirror with a most elaborate frame and this gave Tamar the first clear sight of her face; it was so fascinating to see herself as she appeared to others. Indeed, she was so completely occupied with the novelty of being in such a room that she forgot her fears. Her curiosity was to betray her.
    Beyond the study was Richard’s bedroom, and she was eager to see this for she was sure it would be wonderful She had never seen a bedroom used solely for sleeping in; beds to her were pallets of straw on the floors of cottages.
    And so, the desire to see a real bedroom became too much for her. She went to the study door and peeped out into the corridor. There was no one about, but from the bottom of the stairs she heard the sound of voices. That came, she guessed, from the servants working in the kitchen.
    She tiptoed along the passage until she reached the door next to that from which she had come. She lifted the latch and went in. This WAS his bedroom.
    She had only meant to peep, but she could not resist further exploration. There was the bed, its tester and headpiece covered with such intricate carving that she must go near to examine it. The posts were carved with equal beauty. She felt the curtains gleefully and thought how wonderful it would be to sleep in such a bed, to pull the curtains so that she would be shut in a little room of her own. On the floor was a beautiful carpet of Oriental design; not that Tamar knew anything of its origin; she only knew that it was beautiful. There were what she thought of as carpets on the walls, all cleverly workedin
petit-point
. There was a mirror of burnished metal in a frame which she thought of as gold. She ran to the chest and knelt to examine the figures carved upon it. She would have enjoyed opening the chest and peeping inside.
    And then, suddenly, she felt a chill of horror run down her spine, for she knew, by instinct, that someone was at the door watching her.
    She swung round, but she was too late to see who had been there. She only heard the rustle of garments and the sound of quick, light footsteps. Terrified, Tamar dashed to the door, but no one was in sight.
    Tamar heard the shouts in the distance. They came nearer and nearer. Now they were right outside the house.
    Richard ran into the study; she had