Love for Sale

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  The keepers of bawdy-houses in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries made great fortunes.

  Some imported their women from the Continent, but most of them enticed decent girls into their clutches and then there was no escape.

  Servant girls coming to London from the country were easy prey and were offered lifts to their places of employment in comfortable carriages or were tempted by offers of more money.

  No young girl was really safe in the streets of London, especially if she was pretty, until after the First World War and the history of the period contains heart-rending stories of the way they were mistreated and their early deaths from drink, drugs and disease.

  Chapter One ~ 1820

  As the Duke of Oswestry drew up his phaeton outside his impressive house in Park Street in Mayfair, he wished that he could drive on.

  He was calling on Lady Marlene Kelston only because he had received not one but three letters from her in the last twenty-four hours, each one telling him more volubly than the last that she must see him immediately.

  He could not imagine what might have occurred to make her write to him after they had been parted for nearly three months.

  He had had a brief and fiery love affair with the Lady Marlene and, when it had ended in an acrimonious quarrel when they had been extremely offensive to each other, he told himself that he had been a fool in the first place to become involved with her.

  Lady Marlene, who had been the celebrated toast of St. James’s for the last two years, was a very determined woman.

  The Duke’s mother had always told him warningly,

  “There is bad blood in the Kelstons.”

  The Duke acknowledged that she had been right after he had become intimate with Lady Marlene and found out that the bad blood did indeed reveal itself in her character.

  To the world she was very glamorous with a most unmistakable allure and her impetuous disregard for the social conventions had a charm of its own.

  She had been married while the Duke had been fighting with the Duke of Wellington’s Army and her husband had been wounded at the Battle of Waterloo, but he had only finally died of his injuries three years ago.

  Hardly allowing the conventional time of mourning to pass, Lady Marlene had appeared like a meteor on the Social world and there had been little doubt as to her success.

  She was extremely beautiful and, when finally the Duke had succumbed to her pursuit of him, he knew that it was inevitable.

  What he had not expected, nor had anyone else, was that Lady Marlene’s tantrums and insatiable demands would bore him so quickly.

  But then, if Lady Marlene was unpredictable, so was the Duke.

  He was nearly at his thirtieth birthday and he had already enjoyed a vast experience of women or all sorts.

  He had been chased, pursued and stalked since the moment he had left school for there was no one in the whole country who was more eligible as a matrimonial parti and no man who was as handsome and irresistible to the opposite sex. He was also extremely elusive, but it was his fastidiousness and desire for perfection that made him find that women palled on him so quickly that the Prince Regent had remarked jokingly,

  “Your conquests last such a short time, Oswestry, that we shall soon find ourselves, now that the War is over, having to import females from the Continent for your delectation.”

  The Duke had laughed dutifully. At the same time there was a darkness in his eyes that the Prince Regent did not notice.

  One thing that he really disliked most was talk about his love affairs and so he thought ingenuously that his private life should be private.

  But in the Beau Monde, where every titbit of scandal was collected and mouthed over until there was nothing left to say on the subject, it was impossible for anyone as important or as attractive as the Duke to keep anything private.

  This was another reason why he had finished with Lady Marlene. She talked and that in his eyes was unforgivable.

  Handing the reins of his superb horses to his groom, he stepped down from the phaeton, noting as he did so that the crested buttons on the footman who was waiting at the open front door needed cleaning.

  On her husband’s death Lady Marlene had reverted to her family name and wishing she announced in a somewhat aggressive manner,

  “To wipe out the past and that includes my late and unlamented husband!”

  The Dowagers, who had always disapproved of her, agreed that this was the heartless as well as outrageous way that one would expect her to behave.

  However, they had been aware, since the War ended, that Lady Marlene had no use for a man who was crippled, even though his severe injuries were received in performing a deed of conspicuous gallantry on the battlefield for his country.

  “For me a man must be a man,” Lady Marlene had said when somebody had rebuked her for disparaging her husband and there was no doubt on this occasion at any rate that she was speaking the truth.

  ‘What on earth does she want with me,’ the Duke asked himself now as he was shown across the marble hall and a footman opened the door of the salon on the other side of it.

  The Duke knew the house well. He had called often enough when he and Lady Marlene had been so enamoured of each other.

  It had always struck him that it was very badly decorated and that the furniture needed polishing. It was actually the family house of the Kelstons and was owned by Lady Marlene’s brother, the Earl of Stanwick.

  As he seldom came to London, it would have been absurd for her to set up house on her own besides being very much more expensive.

  The Kelstons never had enough money, which was hardly surprising as they were all as extravagant as Lady Marlene, but, as her bills were invariably paid for by her many admirers, she was in a better position than the rest of her relatives.

  The salon was empty and the footman murmured,

  “I’ll tell her Ladyship you are here, Your Grace,” and closed the door.

  The Duke walked slowly towards the mantelpiece still worrying as he did so as to what Lady Marlene had to tell him.

  His impulse on receiving her first note was to ignore it, but, when the second and third arrived, he had the uncomfortable feeling that, if he did not go to her, she would come to him.

  This was something that she had done more than once in the past, turning up at Oswestry House in Berkeley Square without any invitation and then involving him in uncomfortable situations with his older and more staid relations, who disapproved of her and were prepared to say so, even though they knew that it annoyed the Duke.

  They, however, did not say as much as they might have done for the simple reason that they were rather frightened of him.

  He took his position as Head of the Family seriously and, from the moment he inherited, was very much more circumspect in everything he did in public than he had been when his father was alive.

  “You are getting old and staid!” Lady Marlene had often taunted him.

  This was usually when he would not take part in one of her more outrageous escapades or had refused categorically to accompany her to some ball or a party given by people he did not approve of.

  He remembered now how fierce their quarrels had been, often as fiery and tempestuous as their lovemaking, and he told himself that as far as he was concerned he was very glad that it was over.

  The door opened and Lady Marlene came in.

  There was no doubt that she was beautiful, even the Duke had to acknowledge that.

  The lights in her red hair flickered like leaping flames on her head and her eyes, which were unmistakably green, glinted beneath their dark lashes.

  She walked towards him and there was an expression on her face that he could not put a name to
.

  Then, as she reached him, she crowed,

  “So you have come at last!”

  “I cannot imagine why you wish to see me.”

  “It is important, Randolph.”

  “So I gather.”

  Lady Marlene tipped her head a little on one side as she looked at him. It was a rather characteristic movement that her admirers found enchanting.

  “You are exceedingly handsome,” she said, “perhaps better-looking than any man I have ever known. I cannot imagine why we quarrelled with each other.”

  “I cannot believe that you brought me here to listen to compliments,” the Duke answered coldly. “Tell me what you want, Marlene. I am driving two young horses and they will be fidgeting.”

  “Horses! Always horses!” she exclaimed with a sharp note in her voice. “I always swore that they meant more to you than any woman.”

  The Duke did not reply. He only waited and she knew that he was impatient. He found it extremely irritating when a woman did not come to the point quickly.

  “I sent for you,” Lady Marlene said after a little pause, “to tell you that I am having a baby!”

  Just for a moment the Duke was still.

  Then he said,

  “Why should you imagine that would interest me? Obviously the person who should be informed is Charles Nazeby.”

  “He knows already,” Lady Marlene said briefly. “But, as you are well aware, Charles is penniless.”

  The Duke’s lips curved slightly in a cynical smile.

  “You can hardly expect me to pay for Nazeby’s indiscretions?”

  “I am not asking for money.”

  “Then what?”

  “Marriage!”

  If she had exploded a bomb right in front of him, the Duke could not have been more astonished.

  He stared at her in amazement.

  Then he queried,

  “Can I really credit it that you are asking me to marry you because you are expecting Nazeby’s child?”

  “It might be yours.”

  “But you know as well as I do that it is nothing of the sort.”

  “I believe I should be the person to choose who should father my unwanted brat,’ Lady Marlene asserted, “and who could give him or her a better start in life than a Duke?”

  There was a momentary silence before the Duke replied,

  “If that is all you have to say to me, Marlene, I have wasted my time in coming here, so I will bid you ‘good day’.”

  He made a movement as he spoke as if he would walk towards the door, but she was standing in front of him and now she said with her eyes searching his,

  “It’s no use running away Randolph. I always intended to marry you before we had that foolish and unnecessary quarrel and I shall, if nothing else, make you an amusing wife.”

  “You may intend to marry me,” the Duke replied, “but I have no intention of marrying you or for that matter anyone else!”

  “That was always your attitude,” Lady Marlene retorted. “But you know that you will have to marry sometime rather than let Julius inherit and this is the moment to disappoint him once and for all.”

  “Before we become embroiled any further in this conversation,” the Duke said, “let me make it clear that I will not marry you and there is no point in discussing it any further.”

  “There is every point,” Lady Marlene contradicted, “because, if I really have to marry someone, I prefer it to be you.”

  “I suppose I must take that as a compliment, but unfortunately you expressed your true feelings for me very forcefully when we parted.”

  “How can you be so incredibly tiresome as to remember what we said when we both lost our tempers and were only trying to hurt each other? Whatever I may have said, I loved you then, Randolph, and I still love you now.”

  “Very touching!” the Duke said sarcastically, “but I cannot believe that Nazeby will be very pleased.”

  “Charles has nothing to do with it. He just cannot support me and anyway he has already suggested that it might easily be your child rather than his.”

  “It does not surprise me in the least,” the Duke said. “Nazeby never would face up to his responsibilities.”

  “But you always do and therefore, Randolph, the sooner we are married the better!”

  The Duke sighed.

  “I thought I had made it clear that I will not marry you and I disclaim all responsibility for any child you may bear. Great Heavens it is three months since we last saw each other.”

  “Not quite three months, so it could possibly be yours.”

  “Only a fool would believe that and I am not a fool, Marlene.”

  Once again the Duke took a step towards the door and again Lady Marlene was in front of him.

  Now her green eyes narrowed and there was a touch of venom in her voice as she said,

  “Do you really intend to do nothing for me?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Very well then. I shall immediately send for my brother. He will not only believe me, but he will support me in making you see sense.”

  The Duke was certain that the Earl of Stanwick would be quick to realise the advantages of having a rich and Ducal brother-in-law.

  He was a fiery man as wild and unpredictable as his sister and even more dangerous. He had been involved in innumerable duels, fights and even riots.

  He caused trouble wherever he went and, after the last of his periodical visits to London, his friends as well as his enemies, when he left, had heaved a deep sigh of relief.

  The Duke was well aware what trouble the Earl could cause and, although he was not in the least afraid of duelling with him, he knew that it would result in a scandal that would be reported in the newspapers.

  Every single detail of his quarrel with Lady Marlene would be known not only to the Beau Monde but also to the ordinary public.

  This was something he disliked above all else and he felt every instinct within him shrink from the malicious gossip that would ensue.

  As if she knew what he was thinking, Lady Marlene said with a note of triumph in her voice,

  “Hector will believe me and Hector will make certain, Randolph, that you do not leave me to bear the consequences of our love alone.”

  The Duke did not reply and after a moment she said,

  “It is much better to give in without all the fuss as you will have to do so in the end.”

  “If there is one thing I really abhor,” the Duke said and his voice was icy, “it is being blackmailed!”

  Lady Marlene threw back her head and laughed.

  “If that word is supposed to intimidate me, it does nothing of the sort. Very well then, Randolph, I am blackmailing you and I am certain when I tell my relations how despicably you are behaving, they will be prepared to blackmail you too!”

  Her eyes were focused on his face, looking for some reaction, but the Duke’s expression, although grim, did not change and she did not have the satisfaction of realising how much she was perturbing him.

  “Now just let me see – ” she went on, “my Aunt Agnes is the hereditary Lady-of-the-Bedchamber to Her Majesty. I am sure that the Queen would be very upset at your behaviour and my Uncle George is still, although he is over seventy-five, a Lord-in-Waiting. They can easily spread the word around Buckingham Palace in a very short time.”

  She was aware as she spoke that the Duke was looking at her and his eyes were like agates.

  He was thinking that it was his own fault that he was now in this unpleasant and indeed dangerous situation.

  Just how could he have guessed, how could he have known that beneath that beautiful exterior there was the tongue and heart of a viper?

  At this moment he felt a positive revulsion of Marlene and he thought it was an aspersion on his own good taste that he should ever at any time have found her attractive.

  With a sudden change of mood Lady Marlene said,

  “Do forgive me, Randolph, I did not mean to plague you. When y
ou marry me, I will behave with some propriety and we shall enjoy ourselves as we did before we fought in that stupid manner.”

  She paused as if she expected him to say something, but as he was silent, she went on,

  “You know I shall grace the Oswestry diamonds and give parties that everybody will fight to be invited to.”

  She smiled and it made her face even more beautiful than it was already.

  “Think what fun it will be to put your odious brother’s nose out of joint! I suppose you know that, while he is not pestering you at the moment for money, he is behaving in a manner that would make your ancestors turn in their graves?”

  “I have no wish to discuss anything that may concern Julius with you,” the Duke said sharply. “What my brother does or does not do is not your business nor are you mine.”

  Now he moved past Lady Marlene before she could stop him and walked firmly towards the door.

  “If that is your last word,” she said, “I shall send for my brother Hector.”

  “Send for him and be damned!”

  As the Duke spat out the words, he left the salon and Lady Marlene heard his footsteps moving across the marble hall.

  For a moment there was an expression of concern in her green eyes and then she smiled confidently.

  “He will not escape me this time – ” she called out aloud.

  *

  Driving back from his Club in his closed brougham, the Duke was wondering, as he had wondered all the evening, what he should do.

  Because he was feeling so disturbed after his interview with Lady Marlene, he had sent a message excusing himself from the dinner party he was supposed to have attended at Holland House and had gone instead to dine at White’s Club.

  There had been a number of his friends there to welcome him, but they had found him surprisingly quiet and absentminded until at least three of them had asked him,

  “What is the matter with you, Randolph? You seem depressed.”

  The Duke had wanted to tell them that indeed he was depressed, but instead he merely admitted to a headache and continued to worry.

  He disliked the thought of a scandal, but even more the idea of marrying Marlene.

  All the time when they had been physically attracted to each other, he had always known that she was unstable and could, if anyone offended her, be vitriolic.