Signpost To Love Page 2

  “You are flattering me,” the Dowager said. “At the same time, you know as well as I do, Irvin, that you need a wife and as it happens I have the exact girl in mind for you.”

  The Earl grinned.

  “I guessed what this lecture was leading up to, Grandmama, and quite frankly I am not interested.”

  “You have not seen her yet and, when you do, you will know that she is the right sort of person who would embellish our family tree and look right at the end of your table.”

  “If that was as near as I would have to get to her, I would accept your suggestion with pleasure,” the Earl answered. “Unfortunately, Grandmama, I know that any woman whom I married would bore me to distraction within a month of the Marriage Ceremony if I had to see her for breakfast, luncheon, tea and dinner.”

  “That is nonsense!” the Dowager retorted brusquely. “You have a busy life and there would be no need for you to spend more than a few hours with her every day and even then you would not have to be together.”

  “Is that really your idea of marriage, Grandmama?” the Earl asked in surprise.

  As he saw the twinkle in his grandmother’s eyes, he knew that she was laughing at him.

  “I refuse!” he said firmly. “I categorically refuse here and now to be pressured into marriage with any tiresome unfledged girl or someone who will ‘look right at the end of my table’, but will be a crashing bore in bed!”

  It was not the sort of thing he would have said to anyone but his grandmother who had a Georgian sense of humour and was far more outspoken than any Lady of Queen Victoria’s Court would have dared to be.

  The Dowager Countess laughed.

  “Very well, Irvin,” she said. “I give you six months in which to find yourself a wife who lives up to your own expectations. After that I shall produce my protégée and use every means in my power to make you take her up the aisle.”

  The Earl smiled dryly. Up until now he had managed to avoid being inveigled into matrimony by having nothing to do with young girls.

  In fact, it was very seldom that he met one.

  The house parties he enjoyed and the only invitations he accepted, were those given by the sophisticated social set that circled round the Prince and Princess of Wales at Marlborough House.

  The parties they gave and those at which His Royal Highness was a guest of honour did not include young girls, but only the type of alluring and beautiful married women whom the Prince and gentlemen like him found amusing and attractive.

  “As you have threatened me and made me extremely apprehensive as to my future,” the Earl said to his grandmother, “I will now say goodbye.”

  “Don’t forget, Irvin, I give you six months,” his grandmother said, “and actually I think if you give your mind to it, we could start planning the wedding before the summer is over.”

  “Now you really have terrified me!” the Earl said, as he kissed her hand.

  She had laughed at him and he knew, as her eyes lingered on his face, that she loved him more than she had ever cared for her own children whom she had always found somewhat of a nuisance.

  He had driven away from her house determined to pay no attention either to her threats or to her pleadings.

  Now, after the shock of learning what Lady Marlene was intending, he told himself that his grandmother was right and that he should be married so as to protect himself from the traps of fortune-seekers who wanted him not as a man but for his position and his wealth.

  He was really astounded that Lady Marlene should contemplate the social ostracism that would result from a divorce.

  He would be forgiven because no stigma was ever attached to a man who disobeyed the social code, but for a woman it was different.

  Then he knew that, while Lady Marlene would not be accepted at Court even as the daughter of the Duke of Dorset, after a little time had elapsed she would, as the Countess of Hawkshead, creep back into the good graces of the Prince of Wales.

  ‘She had it all worked out,’ the Earl said to himself, ‘and after a few years in which she would be content spending my money in Paris, Rome or Venice she would be welcomed back by her friends with open arms.’

  He considered how, in many ways, she could buy her way back into their good graces with huge house parties at Hawk and lavish entertaining in Berkeley Square.

  It was lucky that the jump between the two buildings, which would certainly have been beyond the capabilities of a less athletic man, had presented no difficulties for him.

  He wondered if Stanleigh after he had been let into the bedroom by his wife, had gone onto the balcony and, finding that there was no sign of him, had looked down into the basement below, wondering if he would see his body spreadeagled on the railings.

  At the same time the whole episode had left him in a bad temper.

  If there was one thing the Earl disliked it was being, in his own words, ‘had for a mug’.

  He also prided himself that he was far too experienced not to be able to judge a man or a woman’s character shrewdly.

  Where Lady Marlene was concerned he had failed and he had lain awake last night asking himself how he had not been clever enough to sense what she was up to long before he had nearly been trapped like any greenhorn up from the country.

  ‘Dammit, I am not going to think of her again!’ he told himself, but the rough weather only added to his bad humour.

  He was a good sailor and was not in the least seasick, but he worried about his horses, which were frightened at sea, and he also found the best hotel in Calais at which he stayed the night inferior to the hotels he occasionally patronised in his own country.

  The food, however, was good and after a large breakfast the Earl proceeded to ride one of his own horses while the outrider perched on the box of the carriage.

  He had always found it convenient to travel not only with his own carriage drawn by four horses but with two outriders so that he could take exercise whenever it suited him.

  The morning was fresh and, when the sun began to grow hot, the Earl with a gesture of his hand drew the carriage to a stop and continued the journey in comfort.

  Wearing powdered wigs, white breeches and close-fitting livery, the outriders added a touch of colour and indeed elegance to the black and yellow travelling chariot with its magnificent team of four jet-black stallions.

  The Earl had every intention of riding again later in the day, but now there came a sprinkle of rain.

  As he put his feet up on the seat opposite him, thoughts of Marlene came back to irritate him, so that he sat with what his old nurse would have called ‘a little black devil on his shoulder’.

  Deep in his thoughts, he did not realise that the carriage had come to a sudden standstill until the footman on the box jumped down and opened the door.

  “What is the matter?” the Earl asked. “Why have we stopped?”

  “There’s an accident ahead, my Lord.”

  “What sort of accident?”

  “I thinks one of them French carriers they calls diligences has run into a post chaise, my Lord.”

  The footman glanced over his shoulder before he added,

  “Looks a regular mess, my Lord, horses and bodies everywhere.”

  “Well, see if you can give them any help,” the Earl replied, “and then let’s proceed as quickly as possible.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” the footman answered doubtfully and closed the door.

  The Earl told himself he had no wish to be involved personally.

  It was quite usual for there to be accidents on the roads, which were often too narrow for the amount of traffic they carried, and the mails, the post chaises and even carriers like the diligences travelled far too fast.

  In England the stagecoaches would round a corner at speed and crash into a farm vehicle drawn by one slow horse or in France by two lazy white bullocks. In consequence it was no surprise that animals and people were often severely injured.

  The Earl prided himself that in all his yea
rs of driving, and like everyone else he enjoyed moving at speed, he had never had an accident.

  That was due, he had often thought, not to luck but to judgement, something that drivers of public vehicles seldom had.

  What he hoped was that this accident would not prevent them from moving on as quickly as possible, because he wanted his horses to have a good rest tonight before they set off again tomorrow for Paris.

  If he had to go to Paris when he would rather be in London, then the sooner he arrived and carried out the Prime Minister’s instructions the better.

  He knew quite well that it was not something one could do in twenty-four hours or indeed in a week. His investigations would take time, unless he was particularly fortunate.

  Even then, whatever he was told by one person would have to be checked with information from another.

  He sighed at the thought of how many people he would have to call on and how he would undoubtedly have to spend long hours of boredom at the Tuilleries Palace with the Emperor.

  There was only one cheerful prospect ahead, which was that Paris was notorious all over Europe for the beauty and the wild and insatiable extravagances of her women.

  They were certainly not the sort of ‘ladies’ his grandmother had in view as the future Countess of Hawkshead, but their expertise in ‘love’, although that was not really the right word for it, would certainly enable him to pass his time agreeably when he was not on duty.

  He would doubtless find it an expensive diversion, but that was to him of little consequence.

  He was just wondering which of the famous courtesans he would call on first.

  He had already met all those who were notorious and knew that not only would they be amusing but he would meet and greet many friends in their company, especially in the house of the Queen of them all, La Païva.

  He also suspected that she would know more about Germany’s intentions towards France than anyone else.

  ‘I shall call on her first,’ the Earl decided.

  At that moment the door of his carriage opened.

  “We can move on now, my Lord,” his footman informed him. “It be a terrible mix-up, but there be nothin’ more we can do. And there’s a man helpin’ who seems to be a doctor.”

  “Then let us proceed,” the Earl said.

  The footman was just about to obey his orders when the door on the other side of the carriage opened and to the Earl’s surprise a woman stepped in.

  As he stared at her, she sat down on the edge of the seat opposite him and said in a small frightened voice,

  “Please – please – will you take me with you – wherever you are – going? I have to – get away.”

  She spoke in English and, as the Earl looked at her, he thought that she was very young and very lovely.

  She had a small flower-like face in which two blue eyes seemed unnaturally large.

  He realised that there was an expression of shock in them, doubtless from the accident, and he saw that her bonnet had fallen from her fair hair and was suspended down her back on ribbons that tied in a bow at her throat.

  There was a tear in her gown and her ungloved hands twisted nervously almost as if they beseeched him to listen to her request.

  “I perceive you have been involved in this accident,” the Earl said, “but surely you are not travelling alone?”

  “No – but the – people with me are – injured and that is – why I have the – chance to get – away.”

  The Earl realised that the footman was listening.

  He gave a signal to the man to close the door, which he did, but stood outside so that they could see him silhouetted through the window, which had been closed against the rain.

  “Now tell me what all this is about?” the Earl asked.

  “What I am asking you to – do is to – take me away as – quickly as possible,” the girl answered. “It does not matter where – just anywhere so that I can – escape.”

  “But why? And from whom?”

  “Must I tell you – that?”

  “I am afraid so, if I am to assist you.”

  “I will tell you everything, I promise, only must we stay here? I think one man who was with me and who calls himself a Priest is badly injured, but my father may regain – consciousness. Then he will – ask for me.”

  “Your father?” the Earl questioned. “You are trying to escape from him?”

  “Yes. He is taking me as a prisoner to some terrible place, which he says is a Convent, but I think it is something quite – different. Oh, please – please – help me. If not, I must start – walking or running across the fields and I don’t – think I will get very far.”

  There was a note of terror in her voice that the Earl instinctively responded to, but, as he looked at her, he saw that she was so young and obviously so inexperienced that he could not possibly become involved with a girl who was trying to escape from her parent.

  “I am sorry – ” he began, but she said quickly,

  “I must make you – understand what I am – asking. My father, I think, is mad and because my mother ran away and left him, he is – determined that I shall expiate her – sins for the – rest of my life.”

  “What do you mean by that?” the Earl asked.

  “Because in appearance I am like her, my father – intends that I shall be – shut up in this Convent which I think really is a place of – penitence. It is run by a sect who punish themselves for their sins by – flogging and other methods of – physical pain.”

  “What you are saying is unbelievable!” the Earl exclaimed. “It cannot be true!”

  “I swear to you what I am – telling you is the – truth! I am afraid – desperately afraid, and because I am rich once they get me there they will – never let me – go! Oh, please – please save me.”

  There was no doubt, the Earl thought, that she believed every word she was staying, but he found it incredible.

  Because he was playing for time to think over what she had told him, he asked,

  “What is your name?”

  “It is Baptista Dunsford,” she answered, “and my father is Lord Dunsford.”

  “Lord Dunsford!” the Earl exclaimed, “the ‘Preaching Peer’.”

  “Yes – that is right, she replied, “and you cannot know what it is like to live with him. He not only preaches hell and damnation, but – practises it at home. Oh, take me away! I cannot be beaten by him again or put in this – horrible place he is – taking me to.”

  It was a cry for help that the Earl felt he could not ignore.

  “Very well,” he said after a moment, “I will take you to the nearest town where I am staying the night. After that you must look after yourself.”

  “Yes – of course – and thank you – thank you! If I can get away now, I can find my – own way to Paris.”

  The Earl bent forward to signal the footman.

  As he opened the door, the Earl asked,

  “What about your luggage?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Baptista answered, “just drive away before Papa – realises I have – gone.”

  She spoke in a very low voice so that the footman would not hear and the Earl replied,

  “We will drive on immediately, James.”

  “Very good, my Lord.”

  The horses were moving before he had sprung up onto the box and Baptista gave a little cry that the Earl knew was one of relief.

  Then she moved with a swiftness he did not expect across the carriage and onto the seat on which he was sitting to cower in a corner putting her hands up over her face.

  He realised that she was hiding herself as they passed the scene of the accident.

  From his side of the carriage he looked out of the window to see the usual confusion of frightened horses, crying women and luggage strewn over the road.

  Quite a number of people were lying on the grass verge either with injured limbs that needed attention or flat out as if they were unconscious.

&n
bsp; There was a post chaise in which he imagined Baptista had been travelling, but it was impossible to identify Lord Dunsford, whom he knew by sight, as they flashed past.

  He had, in fact, heard the ‘Preaching Peer’, as he was called, declaiming in the House of Lords, but had always determinedly left the chamber as soon as he began.

  His Lordship’s theme was always the same, the wickedness that he averred was rife all over the country owing to the lack of law and order and the stringent punishments that should be administered to the sinners in this world which would be doubled and trebled in the next.

  “Is there no way of curbing that damned fool?” a fellow Peer had asked on one occasion.

  “Not unless we have him committed to an asylum,” someone had answered. “It would be the right place for him.”

  The Earl had merely thought Lord Dunsford a bore and he never allowed himself to be bored.

  Now, looking at his daughter, he felt sorry for her even if the fantastic tale she had told him was really untrue.

  They were past the accident now and the Earl sat back in his own corner of the carriage contemplating his guest as she took her hands down from her face.

  She was, he decided, very young indeed, little more than a child, and it seemed impossible that she was not using an overactive imagination in thinking that her father intended to put her in a Convent.

  “I have done as you wished,” the Earl said now, “and let me add that it is against my better judgement.”

  It struck him that was very much the truth.

  Nothing could be more reprehensible than carrying away a young girl from her father’s protection, especially when she was in a foreign country.

  Then astutely the Earl told himself that if there were any enquiries he would say he had been asked to give the victim of a road accident a lift as far as the next town and, as he was alone in an empty coach, he could hardly refuse such a request.

  Aloud he said,

  “Now suppose you tell me the truth of why you are running away from your father.”

  “I have tried to run away three times already,” Baptista replied, “but each time he has caught me and the last time he beat me so violently that I could hardly walk for a week.”