Love, Lies and Marriage Read online

  “You go and enjoy yourself, my boy,” the Marquis said. “It is what I did at your age and something I have never regretted.”

  “I knew you would understand, Uncle Maurice,” Harry said, “but I have a lot to talk about to you when we have the time.”

  “I am entirely at your disposal,” the Marquis said grandly.

  Harry had smiled at him before he had gone off in a closed carriage leaving the Marquis to dine alone.

  He wished then that he had arranged to dine with Sir Hubert on the other side of the Square, but, as his dinner was waiting and he did not wish to disappoint the chef, he had eaten alone.

  Last night it was he who had an engagement with the Duchess of Devonshire.

  He was leaving the house when Harry came back to change.

  “Are you going out, Uncle Maurice?” he asked.

  “I am afraid so,” the Marquis replied.

  “I was hoping we could have dinner together,” Harry said, “but never mind. I don’t suppose you are in a hurry to leave London?”

  “As I said before, I am at your disposal,” the Marquis answered, “but you appear to be very busy.”

  “I am enjoying myself,” Harry replied truthfully, “and that is definitely what the doctor advocated after the boredom of life in Cambrai!”

  The Marquis knew this was where the Army of Occupation had been billeted.

  His eyes were twinkling, however, as he said, “I always understood you spent a great deal of time in Paris.”

  “As much as I could,” Harry admitted.

  “With ‘the most alluring, the most captivating and the most expensive cocottes in Europe’,” the Marquis quoted.

  Harry laughed.

  “They were certainly the most expensive!”

  Then he went upstairs as his uncle left to drive the short distance to Devonshire House.

  Now, as the Marquis sat down at the table and waited for what Sir Hubert had to say, he felt somewhat apprehensive.

  He could not believe that Harry was in debt, despite paying a great number of his bills and increasing his allowance. He had been able to do this because he had made so much money last year out of the shipping.

  Sir Hubert cleared his throat before saying hesitantly, “I am afraid, Maurice, this will come as a shock to you, but I have been told on good authority that Harry intends to marry an actress.”

  The Marquis stiffened.

  For a moment it seemed as if he had been turned into stone.

  Then he said,

  “You cannot be serious!”

  “I understand that Harry is very serious,” Sir Hubert said gravely, “and he intends to break the news to you at any moment.”

  The Marquis remembered now that Harry had wanted to have a private talk with him. But never in his wildest dreams had he imagined it could be anything like this. “Who is the actress?” he asked.

  “Camille Clyde,” Sir Hubert replied. “I don’t expect you have ever heard of her or even seen her.”

  The Marquis had done both.

  Camille Clyde had made her name as an actress, first in Shakespearean plays and then she had diverged to comedy at which she was undoubtedly brilliant.

  The Restoration Plays had been revived and she had played the lead in one after another. Also in some very amusing French plays which, having been a huge success in Paris, had been translated into English.

  Camille Clyde had for some time been the talk of the London Clubs.

  She was small, not exactly beautiful, but very attractive with huge sparkling green eyes and red hair.

  She had been the talk of the town and was squired by a number of distinguished gentlemen.

  It was rumoured that she was very extravagant and therefore the majority of those on whom she bestowed her favours were rich older men.

  It was not surprising, the Marquis thought, that Harry should want to take her out to dinner or offer her his ‘protection’ for a short while.

  But marriage?

  Marriage was an entirely different proposition.

  He could hardly believe that Sir Hubert was serious when he said that was Harry’s intention.

  It seemed a long time before the Marquis asked in a voice that quivered,

  “How do you – know this?”

  “Camille Clyde has been boasting at the theatre that she might consider becoming a Countess! One of my friends knows another actress who is in the play in which Camille now stars. He told me what had been said and I understand the marriage may take place quite soon.”

  “I cannot believe it!” the Marquis exclaimed.

  It was a blow that he had not expected.

  Seeing the expression on his face, Sir Hubert put his hand on his arm.

  “I knew this would upset you,” he said.

  “Upset me! Do you think I will allow an actress to be the Chatelaine of Stoke Palace? To live in the rooms on which we have expended so much time and money and to take the place of my mother who was such a beautiful and gracious lady?”

  The Marquis’s voice trembled with the shock of it.

  Quite suddenly he brought his fist down on the table.

  “I will not allow it! I will prevent it!” he declared, “even if I have to beggar young Harry by taking away all his money!”

  “That is something you cannot do,” Sir Hubert said quietly. “You will remember you made over to him one hundred thousand pounds only last year. It was an irrevocable gift, Maurice.”

  The Marquis drew in his breath.

  “Then what can I do? For God’s sake, Hubert, what can I do?”

  Sir Hubert sat back in his chair.

  “I have been asking myself the same question before you arrived,” he said. “If I am honest, Maurice, I always imagined that one day Teresa and Harry would meet and it would be a fitting outcome to our friendship if they fell in love with each other.”

  He paused before he added,

  “They could live at Stoke Palace, which, when the time did come, would pass on to their children.”

  “Do you know,” the Marquis remarked, “that is something I have also thought about. When I saw Teresa last year home for the holidays, I thought that I have never met a girl who was so entrancing, and, as you have so often said, she is very much like her late mother.”

  “I don’t think Harry has ever seen her,” Sir Hubert said.

  The Marquis shook his head.

  “Harry, if you remember, was being entranced with London when he came back from France and you and Teresa went North almost as soon as he arrived.”

  “Then what we must do is to get them together,” Sir Hubert suggested.

  He was speaking in the same voice he used when planning something new in his shipyard or when he had a brilliant idea as to where he should invest his money.

  “We can do that,” the Marquis said, “but how much time have we?”

  “That is what worries me,” Sir Hubert replied, “but I can find out from my friend what is being planned and you must insist that Harry comes to Stoke Palace with you.”

  “I will do anything – anything to prevent this appalling marriage from taking place!” the Marquis said fervently. “How can he contemplate anything that is so likely to be an utter and complete failure?”

  Sir Hubert did not answer and the Marquis went on,

  “Has he no respect for his title, for me, for Stoke, or for his position in Society?”

  He paused for a moment before he went on more angrily,

  “Who will receive an actress in their houses, even if she is wearing a coronet on her head?”

  As he was speaking, both men were remembering that in the previous century when they were young, the Earl of Derby had married Elizabeth Farren.

  She had been the first actress to enter the Peerage and the marriage had caused a tremendous scandal at the time.

  “I will not tolerate this! I will not let it occur to my name!” the Marquis said as if he had spoken aloud of the Countess of Derby.


  “That is exactly how I knew you would feel,” Sir Hubert said, “and although Camille Clyde is very pretty indeed, she is undoubtedly what my wife would have called ‘common’!”

  “I will see her dead first,” the Marquis trumpeted furiously, “before she moves into Stoke Palace!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Coming back to London from school, Teresa thought that it was like starting a new chapter in a book.

  She had been so busy in her last term because she was determined to please her father by gaining as many prizes as possible.

  She had in fact been first in English, foreign languages and mathematics, which she knew would delight him.

  She had enjoyed her school, which was outside Bath and the pupils were all from the most famous families in England.

  Because of her father’s generosity to the school, Teresa had been a particular favourite with the teachers.

  She had even been allowed to have her own horse and her own dog with her. All the girls could ride if they wanted to, but the horses came from a livery stable so this was a particular privilege.

  Sir Hubert had said they were not good enough for Teresa. She had therefore brought with her a stallion, Mercury, whom she adored, and a groom to look after him.

  She had ridden every morning and, when it was possible, in the afternoon.

  None of the girls had been particularly envious as they had realised that she was a far better rider than they were.

  Most of them, when they became debutantes, would either give up riding or be quite happy to trit-trot in Rotten Row and few wished to gallop over the countryside. Now travelling home, Teresa had arranged for Mercury to go back ahead of her and she was looking forward to riding him in London.

  Her father had told her that she was to make her debut this Season.

  He had arranged for the Dowager Countess of Wilton to present her at Court.

  Teresa was not greatly excited about the prospect.

  She thought it would be fun to go to balls and the girls at school had talked about them so often.

  She was, however, far more interested in being with her father and going with him to Liverpool to inspect his ships and it was something she had done every holiday.

  She adored it when he talked to her, describing the new improvements he had introduced and explaining why one ship was faster than another.

  He talked to her just as he had to her mother – about his business, his plans for the future, and the different Companies he was interested in.

  Teresa did not have to pretend. She found everything he told her absorbing, and asked intelligent questions.

  This was something she had done since she was quite small.

  ‘We will go to Liverpool,’ she told herself as she travelled towards London, ‘and perhaps Papa will take me on a voyage.’

  Now that the war was over, the English were pouring into France and other parts of Europe.

  Some of the relations of the other girls at school had been to France and Italy, and had come back full of tales, not only of the devastation that had been caused during the fighting, but also all the wonderful treasures they had seen in the museums, Churches and Palaces.

  ‘I must travel, I must!’ Teresa told herself, wondering if her father would be sending his ships into the Mediterranean.

  Sitting beside her in the carriage she was travelling in was Rufus, her spaniel.

  He went everywhere with her.

  After some argument with the Headmistress, he was allowed to sit at her feet in the classroom while she did her lessons.

  He was an intelligent dog and understood that he was not to make a noise. He never moved until the class was dismissed and then he jumped about with joy to the delight of the other pupils.

  Now Teresa patted him and smoothed his red-gold coat.

  She was thinking that what Rufus would enjoy more than anything else was being at Globe Hall.

  She had often teased her father about the name he had given the country house he had bought for her mother in Lancashire.

  It had belonged to a distinguished County family and had been sold because the heir to the property had been killed early in the war.

  The house had carried the owner’s name, but Sir Hubert, with a smile of amusement, had re-christened it Globe Hall.

  “Why ‘Globe’, Papa?” Teresa had asked when she first heard about it.

  “Because my ships will eventually encircle the globe!” Sir Hubert replied.

  As his ships increased in number, it seemed very likely that this would become true and the name was therefore appropriate.

  Teresa had spent all her holidays at Globe Hall, as Sir Hubert did not think that London was the right place for her until she was grown up.

  He was well aware that she was very lovely.

  As every year her beauty increased, he was made even more worried when he looked at her.

  One thing was foremost in his mind – fortune-hunters!”

  He knew only too well what could happen to unsuspecting heiresses being pursued by irresponsible bucks and beau who had thrown their own fortunes away by gambling in the Clubs of St. James’s Street.

  These feckless young men drank too much and had too little to do.

  If they came to London with even a considerable sum of money, it was soon dissipated on cards and Cyprians.

  The last holiday when Teresa had been at home was Christmas and she had enjoyed every minute she had spent with her father at Globe Hall.

  They had ridden the excellent horseflesh that filled his stable and entertained their friends and relations in the big house.

  Teresa had also arranged special treats for the children in the village.

  “It has all been such fun, Papa!” she said when she kissed Sir Hubert goodbye. “Thank you, thank you, for the most enjoyable holiday there has ever been.”

  When she left, Sir Hubert was wondering whether, by the end of the year, she would still find such simple things amusing.

  He had already arranged with the Dowager Countess of Wilton that she would give a ball for Teresa at Stoke Palace.

  There would also be a ball in London for which he and the Marquis had made up a long list of distinguished guests.

  Sir Hubert was wise enough to realise that, because he was so rich, every door in Mayfair would be open to his daughter.

  What he wanted to avoid were the men who would seek to marry Teresa for her money and not for herself.

  She was already incredibly beautiful and it would be, he thought, just impossible for any man not to be moved by her loveliness.

  She had expressive eyes, a translucent skin and hair the pale gold of the dawn. She so resembled her mother and yet there was something original about her beauty, which Sir Hubert had never seen in any other woman.

  The Marquis agreed with him.

  “Teresa is unique,” he said, “and we are going to find it difficult, Hubert, to choose a man who is worthy of her.”

  “That is what I have been thinking myself,” Sir Hubert said, “and whatever happens, we must keep her away from those persistent fortune-hunters.”

  He spoke harshly.

  There had just recently been a scandal when a young woman had been married for her money.

  She had been cheated out of it by her husband, a dissolute young peer, who had already run through two fortunes.

  “Don’t worry, Hubert,” the Marquis said. “Teresa will have two very fierce watchdogs in you and me!”

  Sir Hubert had smiled at the description. At the same time, he was undoubtedly worried.

  Teresa, however, was looking forward to her first Season with the excitement of a child who had been told she was to be taken to a pantomime.

  “It will be thrilling, will it not, Rufus?” she enthused to her spaniel, “but you will be counting the days when we can go to Globe Hall and I am almost certain you are right! We shall enjoy that more than dressing up and dancing on a polished floor.”

  Then she told herse
lf that she must appreciate the trouble her father was taking to make certain she was a success.

  He had asked her to compile a list of the girls she had been with at school and to add to it any other friends he might have forgotten.

  When Teresa looked at her list, she was surprised to realise how small it was.

  When she had been at Globe Hall, she was always with her father.

  He was so interesting and she found him so entertaining that she had not really paid little attention to any other men she met.

  She could understand why her mother had adored him and wherever they went, he seemed to stand out so that everyone listened to him.

  When Teresa arrived in Berkeley Square, Sir Hubert was waiting for her.

  She flung her arms around his neck exclaiming, “I am home, Papa! I am home! Now I never have to leave you again!”

  “It’s wonderful to see you, my dearest,” her father said.

  “I have such a lot to tell you,” Teresa smiled, “and three prizes to show you.”

  She thought that her father was impressed and she was still talking about her achievements as they went into the drawing room.

  “You have two new pictures!” Teresa cried. “I love the one over the mantelpiece.”

  “I thought you would appreciate it, my darling and there is a Stubbs in my study which I am sure will also please you.”

  “I want to see everything, hear exactly why you bought them and what they cost,” Teresa said.

  She stretched out her arms and exclaimed,

  “Oh, Papa, it is so wonderful to be home! To know I don’t have to go back to school and can be with you.”

  She paused a moment before she added,

  “If I was your son, you would now be taking me into the business, showing me how you run it and letting me help you. But whether I am a boy or a girl, that is what I want to do!”

  Sir Hubert laughed.

  “My dearest,” he said, “you are going to be the Belle of the Season.”

  Teresa made a little murmur of protest.

  “That means that a lot of people will look at me and girls of my own age will dislike me! I would be much happier, Papa, working with you.”

  “I have worked hard for years,” Sir Hubert answered, “so that your mother should have anything and everything she desired, then, when I lost her, I worked for you.”