A Virgin Bride Read online

  “Is my father here?” enquired Venetia.

  “His Grace is waiting for you in the study and a little impatient because you are later than expected.”

  “Only an hour or two. The sea was rather stormy this morning and that is what delayed us.”

  She knew, however, that it would irritate her father if he had to wait for her – he had always been a stickler for everything to be done as precisely as he ordered.

  Even when she was small, Venetia knew that if she was even a few minutes late, her father would be angry and she had learnt to slide down the banisters to avoid being reprimanded if he was waiting for her to join him at a meal.

  As they walked towards the study, she was longing to ask Bates, who always knew everything in the house, why she had been brought home.

  But Bates was walking more quickly than usual, so there was no chance for her to have a word with him.

  He opened the study door and then announced in his usual stentorian voice,

  “Her Ladyship, Your Grace!”

  The Duke of Lynbrook rose from the writing desk.

  At a first glance Venetia realised that his hair was far whiter than it had been when she had last seen him. She also thought there were more lines on his face and he looked older than somehow she had expected.

  She ran towards him.

  He kissed her on both cheeks before he exclaimed,

  “You are late! What kept you?”

  “It was not me, but the sea! I am sorry, Papa, but unless I had wings I could not have come any quicker.”

  “Well, you are here and that is what matters.”

  He walked as he spoke towards the mantelpiece and Venetia followed him.

  Then, as he turned and stood with his back to it, she automatically sat down in one of the armchairs.

  She knew of old that when her father took up that particular position, he was either going to give her a lecture or impart important information.

  Because he was silent for a moment, she pulled off her hat and tidied her hair as well as she could, before she sat back in the armchair.

  As her father still did not speak, Venetia piped up,

  “I am waiting, Papa, to hear why you sent for me in such a hurry. I didn’t even have time to say ‘goodbye’ to my friends.

  “My packing was done in such a rush that I warn you I shall need quite a number of the things I was forced to leave behind!”

  She was talking impulsively simply to relieve the tension mounting between her and her father.

  Yet instinctively she knew that he was finding it difficult to say what was on his mind.

  He was looking at her in a strange way that was disconcerting. What she could not know was that he was thinking that she was even more beautiful than her mother had been at the same age.

  Finally he began rather slowly,

  “I have asked you, Venetia, to come here for a very important and special reason.”

  “I am excited to hear it, Papa, I am sure it must be important as you made me leave the Convent so quickly.”

  “It is essential you should be in London tomorrow morning, because your engagement is being announced in The London Gazette to the Duke of Rockinston.”

  Venetia stared at him.

  She could not believe what she had heard him say.

  “I – do not – understand – Papa,” she managed to blurt out finally.

  “The Duke of Rockinston, who you probably know is one of the most influential Dukes in the country. He has asked for your hand in marriage.”

  He paused a moment before continuing,

  “As I have just told you, your engagement will be announced tomorrow.”

  “I just don’t believe it!” exclaimed Venetia. “How can I possibly be engaged to a man I have not even met – ”

  Before she could say any more her father put up his hand – it was a gesture she had known since her childhood and meant that she must lapse into silence.

  “I expected you to make a good marriage,” he said, “because you so resemble your mother. As you well know, she was a great beauty and one of the most admired and respected ladies in the whole of the Social world.”

  His voice hardened as he went on,

  “But I had not aimed as high as Rockinston – ”

  “How can he conceivably want to marry me, Papa, when he has not even seen me?” Venetia demanded.

  Her voice, even to herself, seemed rather tense and not quite steady.

  “As you must be well aware, Venetia, marriages between members of families of the same standing as the Duke’s and mine are arranged. It would be a terrible blow for our families if, by any mischance, the person married was not accepted by the in-laws or was unable to take up the traditional family position at Court.”

  It flashed through Venetia’s mind that her Mama at one time had been Lady-in-Waiting to Queen Victoria and it was a position she had never envisaged for herself.

  However, that was of no particular consequence at this moment, so she added in a firmer tone,

  “I really think, Papa, that before any engagement is actually made public I should at least meet His Grace and decide if I could be happy as his wife.”

  As she expected, her father drew himself up and in a very different tone responded harshly,

  “Your marriage is for me and no one else to decide. I just cannot believe that a daughter of mine, with any intelligence at all, would not realise how fortunate she was in making such an enviable marriage before she had even appeared as a debutante.”

  “It was not my fault, Papa, that I have not appeared as a debutante. I should at least have some breathing space before I am married. I have not even had the coming-out ball you promised me.”

  “There will be plenty of balls once you are the wife of Rockinston. For Heaven’s sake do use your brains, girl. Every mother of a debutante will be gnashing their teeth with envy and wondering just how you could be fortunate enough to catch the most eligible bachelor in the country.”

  The Duke’s voice was growing louder and harder and she realised there was no point in arguing with him.

  Because she was very self-controlled, she managed to draw in her breath slowly and then lapsed into a silence, which was more effective than if she had spoken.

  “Surely you must be aware,” he continued, still in an aggressive tone, “that Rockinston is not only the most senior Duke, but also the richest. His family seat, as you should know, is in Kent and is larger and more impressive than Blenheim. In fact it too could be named a Palace.”

  As Venetia still did not speak, he carried on,

  “His horses are superb and win every classic race. He owns not only vast acres in England but also a great number more in Scotland, where his castle is historic.

  “Coming from a Convent, as you are, you should go down on your knees and thank God for giving you such a magnificent and unique opportunity to become the wife of such an outstanding Nobleman.”

  Venetia was still silent and as her father found her silence more irritating than if she spoke, he added,

  “Rockinston is most anxious to be married as soon as possible. Your marriage will thus take place at home in the country and not in London in two weeks time.”

  If Venetia wished to remain silent, she now found it impossible.

  “In two weeks, Papa? That is impossible!”

  “Why?” the Duke demanded.

  The question sounded like a pistol shot.

  “For one reason, I have only my school clothes and you can hardly expect me to go up the aisle in the dress I wore at school, or to accompany the Duke, about whom you have spoken in such colourful terms, when he goes out to dinner? Will we be expected to have a honeymoon?”

  “Of course you will have a honeymoon,” her father angrily snapped. “You will just have to stir yourself and buy what clothes you can, if you really need a trousseau.”

  “I shall need a very large trousseau, but first of all I would like, if it is at all conveni
ent, to meet this man I am to marry.”

  Even as she spoke, she knew from the expression on his face that there was something he had not told her.

  There was a perceptible pause, before he replied,

  “That is impossible. Rockinston, after he had seen me yesterday, told me that he was obliged to go North to inform his mother, who lives in Scotland, that he intends to be married. That is why he has left everything in my hands and I have promised to make all the necessary arrangements for your wedding.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “I am to invite the guests for the 20th of May.”

  “Are you really telling me, Papa, that he does not intend to meet me until we are actually married?”

  Again there was an ominous silence.

  “I think it is possible he may return in time. But if not, he has told me he will come directly to Lynbrook Hall, and if he arrives in London only the night before, he can easily drive down for the ceremony which will take place at two o’clock.”

  “If I am there,” Venetia added very softly.

  “I need not ask you what you mean by that! Let me make it perfectly clear that my only daughter should make a brilliant marriage.

  “If you are so stupid as to make trouble and reject not just me but the greatest opportunity you will ever have, then I will wash my hands of you and hope never to see you again!”

  Venetia did not answer.

  He drew his watch from his pocket and looked at it.

  “Because you were late in arriving, I have no time for any more talk about this matter.

  “I am lunching with the Prime Minister, and unlike most people I have the reputation of always being on time. If you have any more to say on this subject, you can keep it until this evening, when, as I thought you might be tired, we are dining alone.”

  He walked right out of the room, closing the door sharply behind him.

  Venetia did not move.

  She was wondering if all she had heard could in any way be true and not a figment of her imagination.

  How could her Papa, or anyone else for that matter, expect her to marry a man she had never seen?

  Even though he was of such Social significance.

  She knew her father was delighted at the idea and absolutely determined that the marriage should take place.

  It was impossible!

  ‘How can I make him realise’ she thought, ‘that if I could meet the Duke, I might like him enough, once I knew him, to be his wife?’

  But how could a woman of any intelligence marry a man just because he had a grand title?

  For a moment Venetia felt she must be dreaming and that this was all happening while she was asleep.

  She had thought about marriage.

  Of course she had.

  The girls at school talked about love incessantly.

  At the back of her mind Venetia had imagined that when she came to London, she would, as she had always been promised, attend many balls and receptions.

  Her father had always said that he would give a ball for her and she would therefore meet countless young men.

  Without being conceited, Venetia realised, because she resembled her mother, who had been an acknowledged beauty, that she was very pretty.

  And she would undoubtedly receive quite a number of proposals.

  Perhaps by some miracle she would meet a man she really loved and they would then marry and live happily ever afterwards.

  It was always at the back of her mind, but because she was so interested in the subjects she was studying, she was not worried about being a little old to be a debutante.

  She had had no personal experience of men, only the brothers of the girls with whom she stayed, but they were either very young or not interested in schoolgirls.

  Her father had become much more difficult since her Mama had died. She alone had been able to coax him into a good temper when he was in one of his moods.

  It had been obvious to anyone who knew the couple that he adored her and whatever she did he accepted it as her right and never argued with her about it.

  That, unfortunately, could not be said of anyone else he came into contact with. He was generally considered to be cantankerous and verging on pompous, though nobody would have been brave enough to ever say so.

  Yet Venetia could never have imagined her father would do anything so extraordinary and unreasonable as to marry her off before she had even set foot on a ballroom floor.

  She admitted that from her father’s point of view, the Duke of Rockinston would make an exceptional son-in-law.

  She had heard of the Duke.

  Indeed she had!

  He was mentioned in every Court Circular and his horses were usually first in every classic race.

  That, Venetia had to admit, was much in his favour, but after all she was to marry a man – not a horse!

  Completely stunned at the proposition that had been put to her by her Papa, she did not move until Bates came in to tell her that her luncheon was ready.

  “Mrs. Shepherd was hoping you would go upstairs to see her before you went to the dining room,” said Bates, “but as your Ladyship is downstairs, she’s waiting to see you in the hall.”

  “Then I must see her, Bates.”

  The old housekeeper had been with the family at the house in Berkeley Square since before Venetia was born.

  Venetia walked out of the study and into the hall to kiss Mrs. Shepherd affectionately.

  “It’s lovely to see you, my Lady,” Mrs. Shepherd was saying. “We’ve been looking forward to your coming home. You’ve been away far too long.”

  “It is just what I was thinking, but now I am back I want to see all the staff I remember so well – I just hope none have left.”

  “There haven’t been many changes, my Lady. You’ll remember cook who used to be in the country, but has come up to town since you’ve been away.”

  “I had hoped I should still find the same servants at Lynbrook Hall as before I left.”

  “There have been some changes, but we do have to move with the times!”

  Venetia laughed.

  “That’s one thing I don’t wish you to do. But then I suppose I have grown older, if not any wiser.”

  She was just joking, but Mrs. Shepherd replied,

  “You’ve grown into a very beautiful young lady. Your mother, God bless her soul, if she were alive, would be very proud of you. We was saying in my room only the other night that there be plenty of fine young gentlemen running after you. It’s a real shame you’ve been shut up in that school for so long.”

  “Well, now I am back, Mrs. Shepherd.”

  She thought it would not be for very long.

  In fact she was already thinking it was doubtful if she would go to the country before her wedding day.

  One thing was quite obvious.

  The servants did not as yet know about her father’s plans for her.

  She realised how difficult it was to keep anything secret from the staff and her mother had often said that the servants knew what was happening before she did herself.

  As she sat down for luncheon, she could not help wondering whose advice she could now seek.

  Then suddenly she remembered her Godmother.

  Lady Manvill had been very kind to her when she was a child. Venetia had often told her of troubles at home she had not wanted to bother her mother with – they were the sort of small things that were completely trivial to grown-ups but important to her.

  As Bates brought in the next course, she asked him,

  “Is Lady Manvill in London? I had a letter from her a month ago when she was staying away and it did not say if she was living in the country or in London.”

  “Her Ladyship was dining here last week before His Grace went on to a party at Marlborough House.”

  “Well then, I expect she is in Belgrave Square and I do want to see her.”

  “Shall I order a carriage, my Lady? His Lordship’s taken one with him, bu
t the smaller one’ll be in the Mews.”

  “Tell them to bring it round in half-an-hour. I want to change my clothes when I have finished luncheon.”

  She thought as she spoke that she had very little to change into – only another dress she had worn at school.

  Her dresses had been made in France and therefore they fitted perfectly.

  The other girls there had admired her, yet she was well aware that they would look very inadequate on the new wife of the Duke of Rockinston.

  ‘Two weeks!’ she grumbled to herself. ‘How can I possibly be ready to be married in that time? How can any man, unless he is completely inhuman, expect me to do it?’

  She felt a sudden anger against her future husband.

  In fact against any man who would expect a woman to obey his command, however inconvenient, because he was so puffed up with his own importance.

  ‘One thing I know about him already,’ she thought, ‘is that he is inhuman. He is not only self-opinionated but selfish and is not in the least concerned with other people’s feelings.’

  Bates came back into the room.

  “I’ve ordered the carriage, my Lady. Will you want one of the maids to accompany you?”

  Venetia gave a little cry.

  “Oh no! Of course not! I had forgotten it is correct now I am grown-up to be chaperoned everywhere I go. But I am only going to see my Godmother, so it’s a waste of time and ridiculous for one of the maids to sit in the carriage doing nothing.”

  Bates laughed.

  “It’d be what His Grace’d expect me to arrange for you, my Lady.”

  “Well, just don’t tell him what I am doing. I don’t expect I shall be long. I’m sure I shall be back before Papa and as Nanny used to say, ‘what the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over’!”

  Bates laughed again,

  “I expect she’s still saying it to the children she’s looking after now. I understands a month ago she called here to see how we all was. She asks if we’d heard from your Ladyship.”

  “I do hope Nanny is happy in her new position.”

  “She’s only got one baby to look after,” said Bates, “and she’s with some people – I forgets their name – who live in the country and she be nice and comfortable.”

  “Just what I would want for her.”