Quest for Alexis Page 3

  Chapter Three

  My first reaction was blind fury. Why did people suggest such foul things, even people I was fond of? Hugo could be forgiven, he didn’t know Alexis. But there was no excuse for Rudi. He had worked with Alexis for the past two years and more than any other man alive had reason to understand the depth of my uncle’s idealism, his burning sincerity.

  I said fiercely, “You know that isn’t true. You know Alexis has never even looked at another woman, let alone...”

  Rudi made a hopeless little gesture with his hands. “Do you think it pleases me to say it, Gail? I’m only passing on what was reported on the radio.”

  “You really believe this story, don’t you?” I said, staring at him incredulously.

  Rudi took me by the shoulders, holding me gently. “Gail, my dear ... I feel torn apart by this news. Shattered. But I have to believe it.”

  “Just on the strength of a garbled story by a newspaper reporter who was trying to impress his editor?”

  “It was an official news-agency report,” he said in a quiet, flat voice. “And it was quoted as fact by the BBC. There is the car, too. It has been found abandoned at London Airport. I’ve arranged to have it brought home.”

  I was stabbed with sudden fear. “What about Madeleine? Have you said anything to her about this?”

  “No, she still knows nothing. When I told Sir Ralph and Lady Caterina that you were coming home, they agreed it was best to leave it to you to decide what Madeleine was to be told.”

  I nodded. “How have they taken the news?”

  “Well, of course ... Sir Ralph is very kind, but it’s been a terrible shock to him.”

  “You mean he believes it, too?” I said bleakly.

  Rudi didn’t answer, but just looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

  So far I’d given no thought to the Warrenders and the effect on them. Inevitably, as the owners of Deer’s Leap, they were caught up in this sudden blaze of publicity, and I knew how much Sir Ralph must be hating it. He had very rigid views about what was right and what was wrong, and he disliked scandal of any kind. Besides, as the man who had helped Alexis after his escape from Czechoslovakia, Sir Ralph would feel himself betrayed—if this horrible story were true.

  Somehow, I had to make them understand that it wasn’t true. That it couldn’t be true.

  “I’d better go through and see Sir Ralph and Caterina right away,” I said. “I’ve got to talk to them.”

  “Wait!” Rudi glanced at his wrist watch. “There’s another news bulletin due in a couple of minutes. You ought to hear it.”

  I slipped out of my coat and dropped it on a chair before following him into the Oak Room, which Alexis used as his study. Like the hall, it seemed dismal in the failing afternoon light, the linenfold paneling lacking its usual warm polished gleam. The room was small, workmanlike, one wall lined with bookshelves. On the library desk Rudi had left a transistor radio. He switched it on, and the burst of pop music sounded incongruous in these surroundings. There was a time check, and then the smooth, unemotional voice of the BBC newscaster. The item about Alexis came fourth, after a bank holdup in Edinburgh.

  Dr. Alexis Karel, about whom there has been some anxiety since he was reported missing from his Sussex home, has now been found to be safe and well at a fashionable hotel in Palma, Majorca. Listeners were reminded that Dr. Karel was shortly to publish an important new book, Czechoslovakia in Chains, for which it was understood he had received a large sum for newspaper serialization in England and America. Almost as an afterthought it was added that Miss Belle Forsyth, who had been employed by Dr. Karel as his invalid wife’s nurse and companion, was staying at the same hotel.

  Rudi reached out and switched off the radio. I felt too sickened to speak, and into the unhappy silence the telephone rang, a sudden jarring noise.

  “It’s sure to be another newspaper,” said Rudi. “They haven’t left us alone.”

  “Oh ... will you answer it, then? I’ll go and see the Warrenders.” I hesitated. “Is ... is Brett at home?”

  “No, he’s not there now. He went back to London yesterday.” Picking up the phone, Rudi looked at me sadly, and I realized that he had misinterpreted my question. He believed that I was turning to Brett for help—not that I wanted above everything to avoid him. But somehow I couldn’t bring myself to explain.

  I went through the doorway that separated the west wing from the main part of the house with a feeling of apprehension. What was my reception going to be?

  I hesitated in the staircase hall. It was quiet and dim there, little light piercing the tall oriel window on this dark winter afternoon. The great Elizabethan stairs turned upward into shadow.

  A studded door beside the stairway opened, and the Warrenders’ maid appeared, wheeling a tea cart. She gave me her usual bright smile, then her face sobered.

  “Hello, Miss Fleming. I heard you were coming.”

  “Hello, Jenny. Are Sir Ralph and Lady Caterina alone?”

  “Yes, I’m just taking in their tea.”

  She went to the door of the Ivory Room, obviously expecting me to follow her in. But I hung back nervously.

  “Jenny, tell them I’m here first, will you?”

  “Yes, if you like.”

  A moment later I heard Caterina’s exclamation, and she came hastening out to me. She was a generously built woman, an opera singer in the old tradition, yet as light on her feet as a dancer. Caterina was given to wearing long flowing garments in gorgeous fabrics, which invested her with regal dignity. Today, she was neck to ankles in a crimson velvet caftan.

  “Gail, my poor little one—what a terrible, terrible business this is.” Impulsively, she hugged me and kissed my cheek, then drew me after her into the room, still voluble. “We’ve been so concerned, so worried.... Jenny, fetch another cup, please. Ralph, my darling, here she is, our poor dear Gail.”

  Her husband was standing before the hearth, with its superb ivory overmantel. He was a tall man with neatly parted iron-gray hair. In retirement, since his blindness, Sir Ralph had grown thinner, but he still held himself with an upright bearing. He stretched out his hand for me to take, but his welcome noticeably lacked the warmth of Caterina’s.

  “Good afternoon, Gail. You wasted no time coming back to England.”

  “I felt I had to come at once, Sir Ralph—for Madeleine’s sake.”

  “Yes, poor soul. It’s going to be an appalling shock to her, but she will have to know the truth.”

  The truth? He was taking it for granted that Alexis had cut loose from his responsibilities like a man without honor or principle. Even Caterina accepted it as a fact. For all her charm, for all her sincere concern for me, I could read the message in her large dark eyes. Alexis stood condemned.

  I said quietly, stubbornly. “We can’t be certain what the truth is, Sir Ralph. There must be some explanation. I know my uncle.”

  “I thought I knew him too, my dear. And so did a great many other people—tens of millions of them who admired and trusted and looked up to him.” Sir Ralph sighed heavily. “It’s bad enough in all conscience for any man to desert his wife and go off with some other woman. But for a man in Alexis Karel’s position it’s nothing less than criminal. Such a man has a duty he must never forget. His behavior must always be above reproach.”

  Sir Ralph broke off, and I saw that his face, vulnerable through blindness, was twitching with emotion. Caterina went quickly to him, taking his arm and coaxing him to sit down. She looked at me in a silent appeal not to upset her husband any further, and I realized that Sir Ralph had felt a deeper admiration for Alexis than I had ever guessed—an admiration that was now being shattered.

  I said in a faltering voice, “I’m sorry. I can understand how you feel, but I can’t believe it’s ... what it seems.”

  Tapping on the door, Jenny came in with the extra cup and saucer. Nobody spoke until she had left the room again. Then Caterina asked, “Have you seen Madeleine yet, Gail, my dear
? She was so happy when I told her this morning that you were on the way home. I made up a little lie, I’m afraid—that you were coming for a holiday.” She looked at me anxiously. “I did what I thought was for the best.”

  Sir Ralph cleared his throat. “It hasn’t been easy to keep the news from reaching your aunt. If it weren’t for her room being at the back of the house, it would have been impossible. We’ve been besieged here—a lot of damned newspaper reporters. And the police. We even had the security people sniffing around until this latest news came through.”

  “It must have been very unpleasant for you both. I’m truly sorry.”

  I watched Caterina as she drew the tea cart toward her and began to pour milk into the dainty china cups. Afternoon tea before the fire—it seemed to symbolize the lives of these two. A retired gentleman and his wife. Tranquility and comfort in gracious surroundings, the well-deserved reward for a lifetime’s work. Some small recompense, perhaps, for the affliction of blindness.

  Until two days before the Warrenders had been able to count on this quiet, peaceful existence. But not any longer.

  “If you don’t mind,” I said quickly, rising to my feet, “I think I’d better not stay for tea after all. I really must go up and see Madeleine. I would have done so before, only I wanted a word with you first.”

  Caterina’s brow, usually so smooth beneath the crown of dark hair, was furrowed in distress.

  “What will you say to your poor aunt, Gail? Will you tell her what has happened?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to decide when I see how she is.”

  At the door I paused and glanced back at them. I couldn’t shake off a curious sense of shame, as if I were the one to blame for this catastrophe.

  It was up to me, somehow or other, to try and put things right. My decision was made in a flash, even as the thought entered my head.

  “I’ll go to Majorca,” I announced. “I’m going to see Alexis and talk to him. Tomorrow.”

  Caterina’s eyes widened in astonishment. Sir Ralph frowned.

  “I warn you, Gail,” he said, “if you go rushing off after Alexis, you’ll only be hurt. Badly hurt.”

  Caterina hastily tried to soften her husband’s words. “I beg you to consider, Gail, my dear one. It cannot be wise to act so impetuously.”

  “What else can I do?” I cried miserably. “I’ve got to do something. I can’t just accept a thing like this as if it isn’t important.”

  “Perhaps if you wait a little,” she said without conviction, “Alexis will write and explain.”

  But I wasn’t prepared to wait on the off chance of receiving a letter from Alexis. A letter was so one-sided. It couldn’t be argued with, reasoned with. I was determined to see my uncle in the flesh, to talk to him face to face and demand an explanation.

  * * * *

  Rudi heard me returning to the west wing and came out of the Oak Room to meet me.

  “What did Sir Ralph have to say, Gail?”

  “He believes it. And he blames Alexis—just as you do.”

  “Be fair. I didn’t say I blamed him, but it’s no use shutting our eyes to what has happened.”

  “You don’t know what’s happened. I’d have thought that you of all people, Rudi, would stand up for Alexis, considering what he’s done for you.” My feeling of hurt bewilderment made me speak bitterly, unfairly. “Now I’m going up to see Madeleine.”

  My aunt’s bedroom was a large apartment with a view over the terrace and tangled grounds to the ridge of heathland that in the mist was no more than a vague purplish haze. The lake was very calm, lying like a sheet of pale gray silk, fringed with the tall feathery spires of the fir trees.

  Madeleine was seated by the window, an easel propped up before her, using the last of the fading light to catch the scene in one of her delicate watercolor paintings. I was relieved to see she was using water-color today. When she painted in oils, her mood was very different. Angry and turbulent, the expression of a tortured mind. The results were often grotesque.

  She heard the door click as I closed it and looked up. Rising swiftly to her feet, she held out her arms to me.

  “Gail, darling. I didn’t know you had arrived. Come and give me a kiss.”

  I went to her quickly and hugged her, putting my arms around her small, thin shoulders. For the moment I felt too choked with emotion to speak.

  “It was a lovely surprise,” she said happily, “when they told me you were coming home for a little holiday. Alexis has had to go away, did you know? But now, Gail, I shall have you for company.”

  I said huskily, “I’m afraid I have to go off again myself tomorrow, just for a little while. It shouldn’t be for very long.”

  She made a little moue of disappointment with her lips. “Did Rudi tell you I have a new nurse? Just temporarily, you know. But I don’t like her very much. She’s not nearly as nice as Belle.”

  “I’m sorry about that, darling,” I murmured.

  She sighed. “Oh, well, it can’t be helped. I expect they’ll both be home soon—Alexis and Belle.”

  It shook me for a moment, hearing her link their names together. Had she some glimmering of what had happened, in spite of all that had been done to keep it from her? But looking searchingly into Madeleine’s face, I felt sure that she knew nothing of the truth.

  The truth. I was thinking just like the others, who were all so quick to condemn Alexis. In swift penance, I kissed my aunt’s cheek a second time. “It’s wonderful to see you, darling. You’re looking so much better than when I went away.”

  My mother had often spoken of her younger sister as being very beautiful, and a pale ghost of this loveliness still lingered behind the marks of her ill-treatment at the hands of Novotny’s secret police. The large golden eyes were sunk deep, and above her cheekbones the ivory skin was stretched like translucent parchment. Strangers tended to look away quickly, disturbed by the evidence of so much suffering. It was only those who knew her well and loved her who could be entirely natural in her presence. To me, Madeleine’s face had a special quality. Despite all she had endured, there was still something that reminded me of my mother.

  And now poor Madeleine was about to face even more suffering, worse than anything she had so far had to bear. How could I bring myself to break the news of Alexis’s disappearance? How could I tell her that the husband she adored had apparently deserted her for another woman? Such a cruel, casually ruthless action was impossible to believe, and I didn’t believe it. Not of Alexis.

  While there was the slightest hope, I decided, the slimmest chance of an explanation that would clear everything up, it would be kindest to let Madeleine remain unknowing. I was going to see my uncle myself, and not until afterward would I tell Madeleine whatever it was she had to be told.

  I stayed with her for half an hour, trying hard to make chatty conversation. I told Madeleine about New York, and she was interested because she had never visited America. Eventually, the temporary nurse appeared and announced in brisk professional tones that my aunt must rest.

  “Mrs. Karel mustn’t have too much excitement all at once,” she said meaningfully.

  Freda Aiken hadn’t a trace of Belle’s charm. She was a plain, dumpy woman in her mid-thirties, with frizzed hair and careless make-up. She gave me a look that made it clear she knew exactly what was going on and was relishing the spicy situation.

  I stood up and smiled at Madeleine. “Yes, I mustn’t overtire you, darling. I’ll see you again later on.”

  As I was going downstairs I saw light spilling from the open door of the Winter Parlor and heard Rudi talking to someone. Then the other person spoke, and with a stab of alarm I recognized the voice.

  Brett Warrender.

  Chapter Four

  I stood rigidly still, both hands clutching the banister rail for support. I wasn’t prepared for this. I hadn’t expected to come face to face with Brett without any warning. I’d thought he was in London, a safe distance away.


  It was ten months since I’d last seen him, ten months since that evening in April when my jealousy had at last reached the snapping point. And Brett had faced me in a blaze of anger, denying nothing.

  Of course I’d known that in coming to England, to Deer’s Leap, the chances were that we should meet. Only I hadn’t realized it would be like this. I hadn’t imagined that just to hear Brett’s voice would pitch me into such a turmoil of emotion.

  I took several slow, deep breaths to steady myself. Then, after a moment, my legs still hesitant, I continued down the stairs and entered the room.

  Brett’s dark eyes met mine, and for a brief instant there was an acknowledgment of everything we had once meant to each other. But then the flash of intimacy was gone, and I was merely someone he happened to know rather well.

  “Hello, Gail. They told me you were back. This is a hell of a mess, isn’t it? I suppose you’ve been telling Madeleine. How did she take it?”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t told her. I couldn’t.”

  “For heaven’s sake. The longer you put it off, the worse it will be for her. There was some sense in keeping the news from Madeleine until you got home. But now that you’re here, the sooner she knows the better. She’s got to understand the sort of man Alexis has turned out to be.”

  My anguish swiftly changed to anger. I forgot that Rudi was present and faced Brett furiously, seeing again his stubborn arrogance, his certainty that only he could be right.

  “How dare you. It’s not fair to judge Alexis without hearing his side.”

  “His side?” Brett’s voice was scathing. “If you have any idea, Gail, that this will all blow over and you can save your uncle’s Christ-like image, you’d better forget it. That famous book of his which was all set to shake the world is a dead duck before it’s even published. And so’s the film I’ve been working on these past three months—a real PR job on Alexis Karel, saint and savior. It’ll be so much useless junk now. The man’s a laughingstock.”