The Dare-Devil Duke Read online

  Roland had met Lady Margaret at a Bazaar arranged by the Vicar and his wife.

  The proceeds of which were to repair the Church Tower.

  It had taken them only a few hours before they fell in love.

  When the Earl of Malford heard about it, he was furious.

  He forbade his daughter to see Roland again and threatened to throw the Vicar out of his Living.

  The two young people however did not listen. They eloped romantically, which enraged the Earl.

  He almost struck the Vicar when he admitted that he could not control his son.

  He also predicted that the young couple would starve.

  Only when they were in rags and begging his forgiveness would he take his daughter back into the family.

  None of those things had happened.

  Roland and his young bride went to Liverpool where he became involved in the Shipping industry.

  In a series of extraordinary circumstances and also because he was very intelligent, he was more or less adopted by a most successful Ship-owner.

  As he had no son, when he died he left Roland his ships and his business.

  From that moment, or really from the moment he married Margaret, Roland climbed to the top.

  By the time his wife died he was enormously wealthy.

  He had only worked so that he could lay his millions at her feet and prove himself worthy of her.

  Now there was no need for him to go on accumulating more and more wealth.

  Because Lady Margaret had never been very strong, they had only one child, who had been christened Kasia.

  It was an unusual name, but it meant ‘Pure’ in Polish.

  Because Roland was doing some business with that country at the moment of her birth it seemed appropriate.

  Kasia had the best Governesses and Tutors obtainable.

  For the last two years she had been at the most important and selective Academy for young Ladies in Bath.

  She was to make her debut this season and Sir Roland had already arranged an enormous ball for her.

  It was to take place at the end of May.

  First she must be presented at Buckingham Palace to The Queen and The Prince Consort.

  Sir Roland was even more excited about it than she was.

  “You shall have the most beautiful and the most expensive gown that any debutante has ever owned,” he said a dozen times.

  “I do not suppose anyone will notice me, Papa,” Kasia replied, “when there are so many other girls being presented, and it seems extravagant when I have so many gowns already, which I have not yet worn.”

  “You will do as I tell you!” Sir Roland thundered.

  When the Presentation took place he was upset.

  Although her name was reported in Court Circulars, they said little about Kasia except that she was his daughter.

  Other debutantes of course, because they were the daughters of Dukes and Marquesses, had several lines written about them.

  In some cases their gowns were described in detail.

  Sir Roland was very scathing about the partiality of newspapers.

  Kasia, however, had merely laughed.

  “You will have to get yourself a Dukedom, Papa,” she said.

  “I could buy the newspaper, for that matter!” Sir Roland muttered.

  Kasia laughed again.

  “No, no, Papa, you possess enough already, and you know the doctor said you were not to do as much as you have been doing.”

  “If you are worrying about me,” Sir Roland said, “it is quite unnecessary. I am well enough to look after you, and I know what are your rights.”

  Kasia had kissed his cheek.

  He was still a very handsome man, but she knew that, obsessed by his own importance, he was determined always to have his own way.

  It was a week later that the blow fell.

  Kasia had gone into the garden in Berkeley Square to meet a friend.

  A footman came hurrying into the Square to say that her Father wanted her.

  “I will come at once,” Kasia said.

  She kissed her friend good-bye who had her Chaperon with her, and hurried back to the house.

  Sir Roland was in his Study which, not surprisingly, had some fine pictures of ships on the walls.

  “Ah, here you are, my dearest,” he said when Kasia came in. “I wondered where you were.”

  “I was in the garden, Papa,” Kasia replied, “and we have no engagement for luncheon.”

  “That is good, very good!” Sir Roland approved.

  “Why?” Kasia asked.

  There was some hesitation before Sir Roland replied,

  “I want to tell you, my dearest, that I have chosen a husband for you.”

  “Chosen a husband for me!” Kasia exclaimed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean what I say,” Sir Roland replied. “I have been worried, very worried, my dear, that you would be married for your money. You see, when I die, you will be enormously rich.”

  He paused and his voice deepened.

  “I could not bear that you should marry some Ne’er-do-well who will throw what I have made into the gutter, or gamble it away on the turn of a card, as happens so often in the Clubs.”

  Kasia stared at him. Then she said,

  “I – I do not understand what – you are – saying.”

  “I am saying,” Sir Roland replied, “that Lord Stefelton, for whom I have the greatest respect, and who has an intelligent and well-balanced brain, wishes you to become his wife, and I have given my consent.”

  Kasia looked at her father as if she could not find words to answer him.

  Her father looked at her impatiently and she said at last,

  “N – no, Papa! Of course I would – not marry – someone I do not – love! I have met Lord Stefelton, but it never crossed my mind for a moment that you would want me to – marry a man who is so much older than I am – and whom I hardly know.”

  “I have already told you,” Sir Roland said, “that Stefelton has an excellent brain. He will handle your fortune as I would wish him to do, and will certainly not fritter it away as some young idiot would.”

  Kasia was aware that her Father had been upset by reports of how the Bucks and Beaux had nothing better to do than wager thousands of pounds on which fly reached the top of the window-pane, first.

  “I am sorry, Papa,” she said in a quiet voice, “but although I love you, I will – not allow you to – choose my husband for me – just as Mama chose you – despite what her Father said – so as she did – I will choose – the man I – love.”

  “You will do nothing of the sort!” Sir Roland said sharply. “Your mother and I, in running away, were fortunate that things turned out so well. But I have since thought that it was a very dangerous thing to do, and something I would never allow my own daughter to contemplate.”

  “What you are saying, Papa, is that you will not allow me to marry somebody I love. That means I will have to elope – as you and Mama did.”

  “You will do nothing of the sort!” Sir Roland repeated angrily. “Where you are concerned, things are very different. You are a great heiress, and I do not believe there is a man alive who would not be influenced by that!”

  “Then of course, I must remain unmarried,” Kasia replied.

  “Do not talk such nonsense!” Sir Roland snapped. “Of course you must marry. You must have children to inherit your wealth. If it were possible, I would like to have had a dozen sons of my own.”

  “I think you are being greedy,” Kasia said. “I have never known two people happier than you and Mama were.”

  Sir Roland’s eyes softened.

  “That is true, but it is something that happens once in a million times, and, as I have already said, where you are concerned, it is different.”

  “I cannot see the difference,” Kasia retorted. “Quite frankly, Papa, I will not marry any man I do not love. And if you refuse to give me any money, then I will have to fend for
myself.”

  Her father laughed scornfully.

  “Do you really think you could work as I had to work to keep your mother from starvation? My dear child, you have lived in the lap of luxury all your life. You could no more earn a penny piece than fly over the moon!”

  There was silence.

  Then Kasia said,

  “Whether that is true or not, I assure you, Papa, that never will I marry Lord Stefelton!”

  She turned as she spoke and walked out of the Study.

  As she shut the door quietly behind her, Sir Roland thumped angrily with his closed fist on the writing-table.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Kasia went to the Drawing room where she had always sat with her Mother.

  She stood at the window looking out sightlessly onto the Square.

  How was it possible that her father should behave like this?

  She was determined not to do what he wanted. At the same time she was afraid.

  She was well aware that her father had not got to the top without being utterly and completely determined and often ruthless.

  She had always thought it very romantic that he had worked so arduously simply because he loved his wife.

  He was determined that she should have everything that she had sacrificed by marrying him.

  The only person who could do anything with Sir Roland was his wife.

  Kasia could remember how cleverly her mother would coax him.

  Whether into giving her something she wanted, or doing something he did not want to do.

  She knew that she could not do the same.

  ‘If only – Mama were – alive,’ she thought desperately, ‘she would stop him behaving in this – horrible manner.’

  She could in a way understand her father’s feelings.

  He had built up his empire by his own endeavours.

  He was therefore afraid that it would be wasted or destroyed when he was dead.

  Because Kasia was agitated she walked backwards and forwards across the carpet.

  She felt she might lose her self-control.

  She might start wringing her hands helplessly in Eastern fashion.

  Then she told herself that she was her father’s daughter.

  She had the brains to defeat him in this crisis and must use them.

  “What can – I do? What – can I – do?” she asked over and over again.

  He had said she was incapable of earning her own living.

  She could hear the mockery in his voice when he said,

  “You could no more earn a penny piece than fly over the moon!”

  ‘If that is true,’ Kasia thought, ‘then why have I studied so hard and for so long and come home with every possible prize?’

  She had felt very proud of herself when she had returned from Bath.

  She had been top of her class in five subjects. Now as she thought of it, she remembered that her father had not been as overwhelmed by her success as she had hoped.

  “Very good, my dear,” he said, “and now we must start planning what you will wear when you are presented at Buckingham Palace.”

  “I have a good brain, of course I have!” Kasia said now. “So I have to prove to him that he is wrong, and that I am capable of standing on my own two feet and choosing my own husband!”

  She walked across the room again.

  As she did so, she noticed the newspapers lying on a stool in front of the fireplace.

  Those which had interested her mother were still always laid out there.

  The financial newspapers were always arranged in her father’s Study.

  Kasia picked up the Morning Post, not feeling very hopeful.

  She knew there were ‘Wanted’ advertisements. Perhaps there might be something there which would be of help to her.

  She sent up a little prayer not only to God but also to her mother.

  “Help me, Mama, help me! You know Papa is wrong, but he will not listen to me in the way he listened to you. You – must help – me!”

  She had hardly said the words when she saw directly in front of her the ‘Wanted’ column.

  There was a paragraph with at the bottom of it an address in Berkeley Square.

  It was the address that caught her eye.

  As she read the paragraph she knew that her Mother must have guided her, for it read,

  “WANTED: Young Governess for boy of seven. Apply: The Secretary, 29 Berkeley Square, London.”

  As she read it two or three times, she was aware that the number marked was on the other side of the Square.

  She put down the Morning Post, and went into the hall.

  She picked up her bonnet which she had placed on a chair when she had come in hastily from the garden.

  As a footman opened the front door for her she said,

  “If the Master wants me, tell him I have gone to rejoin my friend in the Square.”

  “Very good, Miss Kasia,” the footman said.

  As Kasia ran down the steps she was well aware that her friend and her Chaperon would have left by now.

  As she unlocked the gate into the garden, she saw with relief that there was no one there.

  She had therefore no difficulty in walking to the other side and opening the gate with the residents’ key.

  When she had been at School in Bath, she had always spent the holidays in her father’s house in the country.

  She had therefore little idea of who lived in the other houses in Berkeley Square.

  As she knocked on the door of No. 29 she was aware there was an impressive crest on the silver knocker.

  The door was opened immediately and she said to the footman,

  “I have come in answer to the advertisement.”

  For a moment he looked surprised, then as if he remembered he said,

  “I’ll take you t’ Mr. Ashton, Ma’am.”

  He shut the door and went ahead of her down a long passage.

  At the end of it the footman knocked on the door and opened it.

  “A lady t’ see you, Sir,” he announced.

  Kasia realised immediately that she was being shown into the Secretary’s Room.

  The man sitting at the desk was obviously Secretary to the owner of the house.

  He was a middle-aged man with rather tired eyes.

  When he looked up at her he rose to his feet.

  “I have seen your advertisement,” Kasia said, “and I would like to apply for the position you are advertising.”

  “Will you sit down?” Mr. Ashton invited.

  He indicated a chair on the other side of his desk.

  Kasia did so.

  A quick glance round the room told her that whoever was the owner of the house was a man of some importance.

  There were maps on the walls which depicted a large estate.

  There was also what looked like an old oil painting of a Castle.

  She thought that the Secretary was looking at her a little critically.

  He might be thinking that her clothes were too expensive for those of a Governess.

  Actually Mr. Ashton was thinking that the first applicant for the position he had advertised was far too pretty and too young.

  A young girl was nevertheless what he had stipulated, and picking up his pen he said,

  “Perhaps we should start by your telling me your name?”

  Kasia had already thought of this as she was crossing the Square.

  “It is Watson,” she said, “Kate Watson.”

  It was the name of one of her Governesses, and she felt it certainly sounded suitable.

  “You have had some experience in teaching?” Mr. Ashton asked.

  Kasia thought it was better to tell the truth.

  “I am afraid not,” she said, “but I have been very well educated. I speak both French and Italian, and I have won prizes in most subjects in my School curriculum.”

  Mr. Ashton wrote this down. Then he said,

  “The situation I am offering, Miss Watson, is a di
fficult one.”

  “Difficult?” Kasia queried.

  “I think I should be honest and say very difficult!”

  Mr. Ashton admitted. “And I should tell you too that although I advertised for someone young, I was not expecting someone quite as young as yourself.”

  Quickly Kasia replied,

  “I am not as young as I look. In fact I am nearly twenty-one.”

  It was not the truth.

  But Kasia thought if she could obtain this position and earn her living it would teach her father a lesson.

  Also, if anything went wrong, it would be easy to return home immediately.

  Mr. Ashton wrote down her name and her age. Then he said,

  “In which case, you may be able to cope with the pupil for whom I am trying to find a Governess.”

  “You mean the little boy of seven,” Kasia said. “Why is he so difficult?”

  “That is the unanswered question,” Mr. Ashton replied. “He is very difficult indeed!”

  There was a. pause, then when Kasia did not speak, he said,

  “I presume you know to whom this house belongs?”

  “I have no idea,” Kasia replied truthfully.

  “It belongs to the Duke of Dreghorne, who has recently come into the title,” Mr. Ashton explained. “His uncle, the late Duke, was very old and had been ill for some years before he died.”

  Kasia was listening carefully.

  “Is this the little boy who needs a Governess,” she asked, “the miser Duke’s son?”

  “No, his nephew,” Mr. Ashton replied. “The child’s father was killed during the war and his mother died shortly afterwards.”

  “So he is an orphan,” Kasia murmured.

  “Quite so, Miss Watson, and that is what underlies the problem.”

  Kasia looked at him enquiringly, and he explained,

  “He has been sent to live with one relative after another, none of whom I gather really wanted him. He has therefore been, as one might put it, ‘homeless’ for some years. He has finally been sent to Dreghorne Castle because nobody else will have him.”

  “And the Castle is in the country, I suppose?”

  “Yes, Miss Watson, and the boy’s last Tutor whom I chose for him has left, saying that the child is impossible and he will waste no more time in trying to teach him anything.”

  “That sounds rather feeble,” Kasia remarked.