Revenge of the Heart Read online

  He laughed before he continued,

  “It would become you and I could not pay you a higher compliment!”

  He had then explained to her that his uncle was extremely kind to him and, although his parents lived in a charming old Manor House on the estate, he was allowed to use Buckwood as if it was his own home, to ride his uncle’s horses and to shoot in his woods.

  “We are a very close family,” he said, “and I know that Uncle Arthur will love you, as he loved my father.”

  Lord John had died about fifteen months ago, and Warren missed his father so desperately that he had instinctively put his uncle in his father’s place.

  He was quite certain his uncle would find Magnolia as lovely and as charming as he did himself. At the same time he wanted his approval and he therefore took her down to Buckwood at the first opportunity.

  They stayed of course in the Manor House with his mother.

  While he thought she was a little cooler than he would have liked towards Magnolia, he put this down to the fact that, although she wanted him to marry, she was understandably anxious as to whether any woman would make him as happy as she wanted him to be.

  The Marquis, however, had found Magnolia just as charming as Warren had anticipated.

  Because Magnolia had told him to keep secret the fact that they were engaged, Warren had merely hinted to his uncle that he might be considering ‘popping the question’ and asked his advice.

  “A very pretty girl, my dear boy!” the Marquis had said. “Very pretty! I hope she likes the idea of living in the country. She is no use to you otherwise.”

  “She was brought up in the country,” Warren had replied, “and her father is Master of the Ferriers.”

  “So you told me, so you told me,” the Marquis said, “and I think I have met him. Nice chap. Well, his daughter should surely be able to ride to hounds.”

  “She can certainly do that!” Warren enthused.

  At the same time, although he hated to admit it, when he saw Magnolia on a horse he was not as impressed as he had thought he would be.

  He had the idea that she was nervous and, although it had never crossed his mind before, that she was afraid of falling and damaging her lovely face.

  This, however, was a very minor flaw in somebody who otherwise appeared to be absolutely perfect.

  As usual, there were a number of guests staying at Buckwood who were the Marquis’s friends and almost as soon as they arrived Raymond appeared with three of his.

  They had just come down from Oxford and were in tremendously high spirits, noisy and ready for any sort of ‘fun’, from tobogganing downstairs on tea trays to playing practical jokes on each other and of course on Magnolia.

  She responded to them in a way that made Warren admire her even more than he had done before.

  It seemed to him excellent that instead of moving with a certain dignity and grace as she had in London, and competing on their own ground with women much older than herself, she could enter wholeheartedly into the laughter and fun of the young men who teased her as if she was a pretty kitten.

  It was freezing weather and the next day when the ice on the lake was hardening, skates were produced for everybody as if by magic and it did not surprise Warren that Magnolia was an excellent skater.

  She certainly looked exquisite on the ice, her slim figure showing to its best advantage when she was on skates and her dark hair and large eyes framed by a fur hat of white fox.

  The young men fought with each other as to who should skate with her next, and usually there was one on each side of her as they sped over the ice at what seemed remarkable speed.

  Warren had watched them benignly.

  He enjoyed skating but had no wish to indulge in acrobatics and later in the day left them to enjoy themselves while he went riding with his uncle.

  The Marquis had grown very stout in his old age and liked to take things easy.

  As they rode over the Park, they talked of the estate and the steps he had taken to have everything working in perfect order for the time when Raymond should inherit it.

  “I wish he would take a little more interest in what I am doing,” the Marquis said. “When you have a chance, Warren, have a talk with him and make him see that an estate of this size depends entirely on its owner taking a personal interest in everything that is done and in every person who is employed to do it.”

  “I am sure Raymond appreciates that, Uncle Arthur,” Warren replied. “But he is still very young, and I thought this morning he and his friends were more like a lot of puppies playing with each other. I am sure in time he will settle down and learn to be as good a landowner as you are.”

  “I hope so, I sincerely hope so,” the Marquis muttered.

  Then as if he wished to change the subject he went on,

  “I want to talk to you about this new tenant of ours. I am not sure if I have put the right man in charge of – ”

  It was quite late as they returned to Buckwood.

  It was almost dark, and the skaters had gone in and were now playing some mad game around the billiard table, which resulted in a lot of joking and what Warren privately thought of as ‘horse-play’.

  Magnolia seemed happy and he thought how lovely she looked with her cheeks flushed, her hair a little dishevelled.

  He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, but when he tried to draw her away from the others she told him in a whisper that she thought it would be a mistake for them to disappear together.

  “I love you, darling,” she said softly, “but we must be very very careful!”

  He understood and then went to the study to read the newspapers that had arrived from London.

  He thought as he did so how lucky he was to have found somebody so adaptable that she would undoubtedly make him a perfect wife.

  It was four days later, whilst taking Magnolia back to London that the bombshell fell.

  When he thought back he realised he must have been both stupid and blind not to realise what was happening.

  There had been dancing in the evenings with young people coming in from neighbouring houses at Raymond’s invitation, some staying, the others arriving after dinner.

  He had organised it all very skilfully.

  Besides the more formal dancing when Magnolia waltzed with Warren, there were also noisy Lancers, Quadrilles and Scottish Reels, which usually resulted in girls being swung off their feet amid screams of delight.

  It all seemed very young and amusing, but it had passed through Warren’s mind that he was getting rather old for so much ragging.

  Nevertheless the Prince of Wales had started the fashion for practical jokes and a great deal of ‘horse-play’ in the parties he had enjoyed a few years earlier.

  Now Warren had begun to prefer the bridge table.

  It was only when he saw Raymond whispering to Magnolia the night before they returned to London that he wondered what they had to say to each other, but was glad they could be such good friends.

  Then, as they travelled back alone in a reserved carriage with Magnolia’s maid in the next door compartment, she said a little tentatively,

  “I have something to tell you, Warren.”

  “What is it, my precious?” he asked. “And have I told you how beautiful you look today? Every time I see you, you are lovelier than yesterday!”

  “Thank you,” she replied, “but I want you to understand that while I still love you, I cannot marry you!”

  “What do you mean?” Warren asked.

  He spoke sharply because he was so astonished and then thought he could not have heard her aright.

  She raised her eyes pleadingly to him as she said,

  “I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

  “Of course I will not be angry with you!” he replied. “How could I be? But I don’t understand what you are saying!”

  “I am saying, dear Warren, that while I love you, I am going to marry Raymond!”

  Warren just star
ed at her, feeling as though his head was suddenly filled with cotton wool and he could not take in what she was saying.

  At length in a voice that did not sound like his own, he ejaculated,

  “Marry Raymond? How can you? He only came of age last November!”

  “He wants to marry me, but, of course, we shall have to wait until I am out of mourning.”

  “And you really think you can do this to me?” Warren managed to ask, the words coming jerkily from between his lips.

  “I am sorry, dear Warren, but you have to understand.”

  “What have I to understand?”

  She hesitated.

  Then he knew the answer.

  “You mean that Raymond will one day become the Marquis of Buckwood!”

  “You did say yourself that the house would become me!”

  “So that is how it is!”

  He felt as if the train was spinning dizzily round him.

  Then as he realised they were drawing into Paddington Station, he knew that Magnolia had timed her revelation very cleverly to coincide with their arrival.

  A minute later a porter opened the carriage door, Magnolia’s lady’s maid appeared and there was no more time for intimate discussion.

  Her closed carriage was waiting outside and, as they reached it Warren raised his hat to Magnolia, then walked away.

  He had not spoken one single word since they left the train.

  Only as he climbed into a hired hansom and directed it to drive to his Club was he aware that he was shaking with anger.

  At the same time a desperate sense of loss pervaded him, making him feel as if the very sky had caved in on his head.

  He had loved Magnolia, he had loved her in a way he had never loved anybody before and he had believed in her protestations of love.

  Now scraps of conversation were coming back to him.

  “I am afraid we shall not be at all rich, my precious,” he had said. “Although my father had an unusually generous allowance from my uncle, I still have to provide for my mother.”

  “I love you because you are you!” Magnolia had said in her soft sweet voice. “If you had not a penny in the world, I would love you just the same!”

  “Darling, could anybody be more wonderful?”

  On another occasion he said,

  “As soon as you allow me to tell my uncle we are engaged, I know he will offer us a house somewhere on the estate. There are quite a number of small, attractive Manors and I know you would be able to make any one of them look very lovely.”

  “What I want to do is to make a home for you.”

  “I know you will do that,” Warren answered, “and of course we will try to afford to have a small house in London as well.”

  “I hope it will be big enough for me to entertain your friends,” she said. “Just because we are married, I must not deprive you of all the people who love you because you are so wonderful. But I know the women will be very envious of me for having such a clever, handsome and attractive husband.”

  “We will buy a house with a large dining room and a large drawing room,” Warren promised.

  At the same time, he wondered if he would be able to afford it.

  Because he loved Magnolia he had already begun to economise, so that he could save money to buy her all the things she would want once she was his wife.

  Fortunately, because he did have so many rich and what she called ‘important’ friends, he knew they would be invited to lots of weekend house parties, where he had always been welcomed in the past.

  That would mean she would require a number of glamorous gowns, and he told himself he would have to curtail some of the small extravagances with which he had indulged himself as a bachelor.

  However, because he loved Magnolia he felt that nothing could be too great a sacrifice, and he felt as if he wanted to lay himself and everything that belonged to him as a tribute at her feet.

  Now he could hardly believe that, loving him as she had said she did, she could marry a boy who was hardly any older than herself and also, as Warren knew, very immature.

  Raymond was not at all intelligent and had very few positive attributes except for a straightforward character and a youthful desire to enjoy his life without worrying about anything else.

  The Marquis was, although he had never admitted it, slightly disappointed in his son. Raymond’s reports at school had not been good and twice he had nearly been sent down from Oxford for making no effort to study.

  Then when his father tried to teach him about the estate, Raymond showed no real interest in it, except for the amusement it could afford him.

  Warren had never really thought of Raymond as being grown up and certainly not as anybody’s husband, let alone Magnolia’s.

  To think that she was marrying him just because he would one day be the Marquis of Buckwood made him feel appalled, disgusted, and at the same time humiliated that he still loved her, still desired her and felt that life was insupportable without her.

  By the time he had reached his Club and drunk an inordinate amount of brandy he told himself that it was not a question of wondering how he could live without her, but more that he did not intend to do so.

  It was then that Edward had found him.

  *

  “Now listen, Warren,” he was saying, “I have a suggestion to make and I want you to consider it seriously.”

  “The most sensible thing I can do is to jump into the Thames!” Warren replied somewhat thickly. “I am not likely to drown because I am a strong swimmer, but I may die of the cold!”

  “I have a better suggestion.”

  “What is it?”

  The question was surly and Edward replied,

  “You can come with me to Africa!”

  “To Africa?”

  There was just a note of surprise in the question that made Edward think he was at least curious.

  “I am going there to find material for a new book,” he said. “I am also going to explore parts of the desert and Morocco where few people, and I imagine no Englishman, hve ever been before. We might have some game hunting too. We could also lose ourselves in a sandstorm or be killed by some hostile tribe!”

  “That would solve my problem, at any rate!” Warren remarked.

  “I agree it would save a lot of trouble and be an interesting and unusual way to die.”

  There was silence.

  Then Edward said,

  “Come with me! I don’t think you will regret it and at least you will not have to sit here crying over Magnolia and wondering what she is doing with Raymond.”

  He paused before he added,

  “You are much more likely to be fending off reptiles or other dangerous animals and thinking of how draughty and uncomfortable it is in a tent that is likely to blow away at any moment!”

  “You certainly make it sound very unattractive!”

  “I cannot promise you a feather bed or the exotic pleasures of the East!” Edward replied. “But it will give you something to fight and I think that is what you really need at this particular moment.”

  There was silence.

  Then, as if Warren was seeing Magnolia and hating her with a violence that could only come from a man who had been ‘crossed in love’, he said,

  “All right, if you want me, I will come with you. But you must make all the arrangements, while I become disgustingly and I hope obliviously, drunk!”

  Thinking back, Warren could hear himself saying it, despising himself for being so weak and so stupid for loving a woman who had rejected him for a title.

  And yet now, a year later, the letter he was holding in his hand seemed to disturb something within him that he thought he had forgotten.

  As he looked down at the letter he could smell Magnolia’s perfume coming from it, and he could remember, as he looked at the curves of the letters, she had written, the curves of her breasts and the smallness of her waist.

  He thought he could feel the warmth of her lips benea
th his, which had made not only his heart but also hers beat faster.

  He had known that if he desired her as a woman, she also desired him as a man.

  “Magnolia! Magnolia!”

  His whole body cried out for her.

  But why the hell had she written to him now?

  Chapter Two

  For a moment the words on the blue writing paper seemed to dance in front of Warren’s eyes.

  Then he read,

  “Dearest, most beloved Warren,

  How could you have gone away so cruelly without telling me where you were going? I could not believe it when I learnt that you had left England.

  I knew then how foolish I was and that I had been swept away by a sort of madness that I cannot explain, but which I think made me temporarily insane!

  Now I have had time to think it over, I know there is only one man in my life and that is you!

  I love you, and I can only beg you on my knees if necessary, to forgive me.

  I cannot believe that I have really lost something so precious, so marvellous, as your love. My only excuse for not appreciating it was that I had never known anybody like you before.

  Your uncle tells me that you are somewhere in Africa and he has no address, so I can therefore only send this letter to Paris where I have learnt you will stay first when you return.

  When you read it, darling, forget my stupidity and think only of how happy we were before we went to Buckwood, and let me once again creep into your heart.

  Forgive me and let us know the bliss we both felt when you first kissed me.

  I love you! I love you!

  Your very penitent and humble Magnolia.”

  Having read the letter Warren stared at it as if he could not believe his eyes.

  He looked at the date and saw that it had been written nine months ago, in fact only a month after he had left England.

  It really did not seem possible that Magnolia should have changed her mind so completely and so quickly, and because it seemed so incredible he read her letter over again.

  He felt he must find some explanation, although what it could be he had no idea.

  He looked through the pile of letters and under several bills and half-a-dozen envelopes containing what he guessed were invitations, all of which had been sent to White’s Club in London and forwarded on, he found a letter addressed directly to the hotel from his mother.