This is Love Read online

  Athina’s eyes lit up.

  “Do you really mean that I can bring him to Rock Park? I had thought of asking you, but I was afraid it would be an imposition.”

  Before the Marquis could reply Peter chimed in,

  “Oh, please, Uncle Denzil, do let Aunt Athina bring Flash to stay with us. I will look after him and he can sleep in my room.”

  Athina thought that this was an excellent idea and Flash would certainly help to protect him.

  If by any chance an intruder entered Peter’s bedroom, she knew that Flash would bark loudly and very likely attack him.

  There was no need to express in words what she was thinking.

  As she glanced at the Marquis, she was aware that he thought the same as her.

  “We will take Flash back with us to Rock Park,” he affirmed.

  Athina then took him over the house.

  She felt touched that he greatly appreciated the low ceilings, the diamond-paned windows and the huge open fireplaces. It was all so very different from his own house.

  Peter was delighted with everything he saw.

  When they finally sat down in the dining room for luncheon, she thought with much satisfaction that Mrs. Bell had excelled herself.

  She had cooked several delicious dishes that they all enjoyed to the full.

  When luncheon was over, they went into the garden and Peter started throwing a ball for Flash and the other dogs.

  Athina and the Marquis sat down on a wooden seat in the Rose Garden.

  It was the first time they had been alone together without Peter and Athina asked the Marquis tentatively,

  “What are you going to do about ‒ the man in the wood, my Lord?”

  “There is really nothing that I can do,” the Marquis answered. “I am certain that your gamekeeper will find nothing by the time he gets there.”

  “But – he will – try again,” Athina faltered.

  “I am aware of that,” the Marquis said, “but I can hardly confine Peter to the house or send him out only under armed guard.”

  Athina made a helpless little gesture with her hands.

  “I am – frightened, very – very – frightened.”

  “I can easily understand and so we can only pray that we will be protected.”

  She was so surprised at what he had just said that she looked at him questioningly.

  “If you think about it,” he said quietly, “Fate, or Peter’s Guardian Angel, brought you into his life at the very moment when, if I am not mistaken, Burnham was intent on murdering him.”

  “How can it be possible that a man, who is in the House of Lords and has held high Government posts, be actually prepared to commit murder?” Athina asked.

  “Then his financial position must be even worse than I thought,” the Marquis replied. “I am convinced now that he married my sister entirely for her money, even though he was in fact genuinely attracted by her.”

  Athina made no comment and the Marquis went on as if he was puzzling it all out for himself,

  “I was very surprised when she married again. She was broken-hearted at the sudden death of Gerald Naver. He was a charming and delightful person whom everybody loved.”

  “Then why did she marry so soon after he died?” Athina asked.

  “I suppose the truth was that she did not care what happened to her,” the Marquis replied, “and when Burnham wooed her so ardently, she thought it would be good for Peter to have another father.”

  “I can well understand it,” Athina murmured slowly.

  “As we now know, it was disastrous,” the Marquis went on, “and, when Burnham knew that Louise was dying, he was determined to get all the money for himself.”

  “Which is – what he – wants now.”

  “As I have told you, I have already arranged for him to be offered a very considerable annual income,” the Marquis said, “but I gather now from what happened this afternoon that it is not enough for him.”

  There was a distinct note of anger in his voice as he spoke and Athina looked at the squareness of his chin and the expression in his eyes.

  She thought that he was like a Knight going into battle against the Powers of Darkness.

  Then she ruminated that it was a strange way to be thinking of the Marquis whom at first she had so strongly disliked and disapproved of.

  Yet how could she disapprove of him now when he was fighting so determinedly for Peter’s life.

  Peter then came running back to them and panted,

  “Flash is quicker than all the other dogs! He always gets the ball first.”

  “That is why I called him Flash,” Athina answered. “Even as a puppy he was very quick-witted and gobbled up his dinner far quicker than the rest.”

  Peter laughed.

  “That is what Uncle Denzil likes me to do. I am getting fat. My riding breeches already are getting too tight round my tummy.”

  “You must tell Mrs. Field,” Athina said. “I feel sure that she will have another pair a little bigger that once belonged to your uncle.”

  “I will tell her,” Peter said, “but I think in about a week I will want a bigger pair still!”

  They laughed and Peter ran off again to play with the dogs.

  Athina suddenly felt afraid that within a week or so he might not be there.

  She turned to the Marquis.

  “What can – we do? Or rather – what can – you do?” she asked.

  “That is what I am trying to puzzle out,” he replied, “and I think now we should return to Rock Park. We will go by a roundabout way that will take much longer than going through Monk’s Wood.”

  Athina shivered.

  She could still hear in her mind the sound of the shot as the bullet buried itself in the tree behind Peter.

  She did not speak, but the Marquis knew what she was thinking.

  “Trust me,” he urged her. “At the same time Peter must never be left alone.”

  “No, of course not,” Athina agreed at once.

  The horses were brought round to the front door and Athina said ‘goodbye’ to Mrs. Bell and thanked her for the splendid luncheon.

  She then told Upton, the old butler, to look after everything.

  “Will your ladyship be a-coming back soon?” he asked.

  “I am not sure, Upton, but I know that everything will be safe in your capable hands and his Lordship may wish to come over again in a day or so.”

  Because of what had happened in the wood, they had not gone to see her mares or the pigs as she had intended.

  She sensed that the Marquis felt the same as she did.

  If they were to stray too far from the house, it would be easy for a gunman to take another shot at Peter.

  They mounted their horses.

  The. Marquis moved off quickly leading them through the stables instead of down the drive.

  He rode away from the house in a different direction from the one that he would have taken if they were returning straight to Rock Park and Peter was happy riding behind his uncle on a well-bred horse.

  He did not therefore seem to notice that they were returning to Rock Park by a different route.

  He chattered on about the birds, the sheep and the cattle that they passing and he kept an eye on Flash who was running behind them.

  It was not until they came in sight of Rock Park that he said,

  “That was a really long way to go home, Uncle Denzil. But it was a scrumptious ride!”

  “I am glad you enjoyed it,” the Marquis said, “and I think we will ride straight into the stables instead of dismounting at the front door as we usually do.”

  Peter made no comment.

  Athina knew that the Marquis was avoiding the open courtyard at the front of the house. If anyone was watching for them, it was where he would expect them to dismount.

  They rode into the stables where several grooms and stable lads were moving about.

  Athina was not surprised when the Marquis then took them in
to the house by the kitchen door.

  He made the excuse that he wanted to show Peter the dairy. There were huge bowls of milk left on marble slabs every night so that there would be plenty of cream in the morning.

  Peter was fascinated by it, but Athina, however, well knew that the servants were surprised to see the Marquis in an area of Rock Park that he did not usually visit.

  They reached the hall and the main staircase.

  Peter ran up it, calling Flash so that he could show the dog to Mrs. Beckwith.

  She was sitting very comfortably in an armchair and, as Athina had expected, reading a book.

  As Peter rushed in, he told her first about Flash and how he had come to stay with them.

  Then he remembered to tell her that a shot had been fired at him.

  When he did so, he said,

  “It was very – frightening, but Aunt Athina told me to ride away quickly and so I galloped out of the wood as fast as I could go. Then I saw ‒ Uncle Denzil.”

  “It all sounds horrifying to me,” Mrs. Beckwith exclaimed, “but lots of Kings and Queens have been shot at. Tomorrow we will find some books about them and you will see that they were as brave as you were.”

  “That will be fun,” Peter smiled.

  He then ran down the corridor to his bedroom to change from his riding breeches.

  Mrs. Beckwith turned to Athina,

  “How can this happen in England of all places? And here in the country where everything is always so peaceful.”

  “That is what I have been asking,” Athina replied, “and, if it had not been for the baby birds, Peter would now be dead!”

  Mrs. Beckwith put a hand on her arm.

  “I am certain that the Marquis will do something about that man,” she maintained. “This cannot go on!”

  “That is exactly what I have been saying,” Athina answered, “but how can we know when he will strike again?”

  She felt the tears come into her eyes and hurried to her own room to change.

  She came downstairs for tea in the drawing room and Athina by this time felt more composed and she knew that it would be a mistake to keep talking about what had happened.

  Instead, when Mrs. Beckwith joined them, they then talked about Murling Park and its fascination.

  “It is reputed that Queen Elizabeth once slept in the house on one of her journeys across the country,” Athina remarked.

  “The number of houses supposed to have put her up for the night are so many,” the Marquis joined in sarcastically. “So I can only think that Her Majesty never stopped travelling around her Kingdom and so found London itself very boring.”

  “That is the opposite of what you thought,” Athina said teasingly. “When I first heard about you from my father, he told that me that he had no use for the young ‘toffs’ who only wanted to enjoy themselves with beautiful women in London and were bored in the country.”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “Was that really my reputation?”

  “It was much worse than that,” Athina went on, “but I am far too polite to mention it!”

  The Marquis was about to expostulate when Peter said,

  “I love being in the country. I want just to live here and ride Uncle Denzil’s horses. And I want dozens and dozens of dogs like Flash.”

  “Not all in the house, I would hope!” the Marquis said quickly. “My carpets are very valuable.”

  “I would train them so well that they never did anything naughty,” Peter promised.

  “That would surely be a step in the right direction,” the Marquis admitted.

  Flash was content to play with Peter and they scrambled about on the floor together.

  Watching them, Athina thought that it was difficult to recognise the pale, frightened, half-starved little boy sobbing so miserably for his mother when she had first met him.

  When later on they sat talking in the drawing room, she felt that anyone who saw them would think that they were just an ordinary family with no great problems to solve.

  Certainly not with a murderer worrying them.

  ‘Lord Burnham should be hanged!’ she said to herself.

  She shied away from the thought that she and the Marquis might be worrying over their own son.

  Whether their conversation would be taking place in a cottage or in the magnificence of Rock Park, it would be just the same.

  ‘The sooner Lord Burnham is out of our lives and I can go home, the better,’ she decided.

  Because she was always honest with herself, she knew that for the moment at any rate she would rather be at Rock Park alone with the Marquis.

  Peter then asked that he might have dinner with them.

  The Marquis agreed, mainly Athina thought, because he would then be able to keep his eye on him.

  While the boy was with them, nobody had to worry about what was happening to him.

  As Athina put on one of her pretty gowns she had bought to wear in London, she thought how extraordinary the Marquis was.

  He usually had his friends staying with him at Rock Park, she supposed.

  Now he was apparently very content to have just herself and Mrs. Beckwith.

  Actually she herself should be staying in London at this moment preparing to be presented to Queen Victoria at Buckingham Palace. And she would be counting her many invitations to the balls as they arrived every morning.

  She had written a letter that was almost truthful to the relation she had arranged to stay with.

  She had explained that she had encountered very many problems at Murling Park and so could not leave.

  She added,

  “It may be a question of a week or perhaps only days and by now you may have seen the announcement in The London Gazette that I am engaged to the Marquis of Rockingdale.

  I know that Papa would be so pleased as our estates march with each other. As soon as I can come to London, you will meet him and I am sure you will find him delightful – ”

  She then wrote more or less the same letter to her other relatives, making the same excuse for not coming to London immediately.

  She was certain that they would think it extraordinary when her coming out had all been arranged.

  Then she reflected,

  ‘They will surely expect me to attend the first drawing room at Buckingham Palace and then another one after I am married.’

  Yet it was impossible for her to leave Peter just now.

  Besides if she and the Marquis took Peter to London with them, it would be easier for him to have an unfortunate ‘accident’ of some sort there.

  After dinner, when Mrs. Beckwith had taken Peter upstairs to bed, Athina and the Marquis were left alone.

  It was then that she admitted,

  “I am feeling very guilty. I am sure you ought to be in London enjoying the Season, just as I should be, my Lord. And yet I am afraid of going there with Peter in case it is even more dangerous than here.”

  “It is dangerous wherever he goes,” the Marquis said, “but once I catch Burnham red-handed, I can threaten him so that he will be too frightened to try again.”

  “How could you do that?” Athina asked.

  “He is afraid of a scandal and I would, of course, accuse him of attempted murder.”

  Athina gave a little cry.

  “Can – you really do – so?”

  “If I catch him in the act,” the Marquis said. “Alternatively I can force him to live abroad and give him enough money to stay there.”

  “That would be a far better solution,” Athina said, “Oh, please – please – let’s hope that – we don’t have to – wait too long.”

  “Are you already so bored already with being here with me?” the Marquis asked unexpectedly.

  “No, of course not,” Athina replied rapidly, “but I feel very guilty when I think of how boring it must be for you.”

  “I have not said I am bored,” the Marquis assured her. “In fact, although I agree with you that the situation is frig
htening, I have never felt more alert and more purposeful. I am determined to rid us of this menace, which is certainly very bad for Peter as well as for you.”

  “I do not – matter, but he is such a – dear little boy and – one day he will – have to go to school.”

  “I can only hope to God that I shall have dealt with Burnham long before that,” the Marquis said sharply.

  Athina then thought that it had been a tactless thing for her to say.

  It implied that the Marquis would seriously have to continue with his protection of Peter rather than live his own life.

  She then wondered about how many lovely ladies were finding it extraordinary that he continued to stay in the country where they could not see him.

  She thought how dull it must be for him to have only her and Mrs. Beckwith to talk to. In London there had been the dazzling beauties who frequented Marlborough House.

  “If we are talking about people missing London,” the Marquis suggested, “what about you? I understand from Mrs. Beckwith that you expected to be presented to the Queen at the first drawing room and should by now be counting your invitations to balls.”

  It was something Athina had herself been thinking of in identical words and she answered swiftly,

  “Nothing matters. Nothing and nobody except Peter! Anyway, as I am a country girl, I prefer being here to staying in London.”

  “That is just nonsense!” the Marquis said argumentatively. “You know perfectly well that it is the dream of every young woman to be the belle of the ball, the beauty of the Season and have a dozen young men asking for her hand in marriage.”

  Athina laughed.

  “I think it more likely that I shall be joining the endless rows of debutantes whom, I am told, smart gentlemen like yourself ignore as if they had the plague!”

  The Marquis chuckled.

  “I must admit that I don’t know any debutantes nor have I ever even spoken to one! But they do exist and I suppose they have their place in the Social world.”

  “Most men have to marry some time,” Athina said, “and one day when all this is over you will inevitably find yourself walking down the aisle with a ravishing debutante who is the beauty of the Season.”

  “That is exactly what I have always been afraid of,” the Marquis replied, “and I suppose it is what will happen to me if the Queen has her way.”