Learning to Love Read online

  The chaise itself was somewhat dilapidated and needed repainting. However the horse drawing it was a good-looking animal and he certainly looked better fed than his owner.

  As the Earl climbed into the driving seat, he was aware that the groom who handed him the reins was looking pale and thin and his coat needed repairing.

  “I have another call to make, Jim, and then I will try to find you something to eat, as I expect you are hungry.”

  “That’s nothing new, my Lord,” the groom answered. “But I’ll be mighty glad of anything you can give me.”

  The Earl did not reply, but turned the horse round and drove into Piccadilly and up Berkeley Street into Berkeley Square.

  He remembered as he passed through the square that his grandfather had owned a house here. His father had sold it as soon as he came into the title.

  It took him only a few minutes more to reach Claridge’s.

  The Earl made enquiries at the hotel’s reception desk and was told that Mr. Randon was in his suite. He gave his name and asked if Mr. Randon would see him and a page was sent hurrying up the broad staircase to the first floor.

  While the Earl was waiting, ladies and gentlemen were arriving for luncheon and a band was playing in the foyer.

  It was a long time since he had lunched or dined in any expensive hotel nor for that matter in the company of people who were well off.

  Several pretty women, very smartly dressed, passed the Earl as he stood with his back to the fireplace. Because he was so handsome, they first looked at him with interest and then they looked again with what was almost an invitation in their eyes.

  The Earl wondered a little bitterly what they would say if they knew that his pockets were empty.

  If he was to ask a lady to have luncheon with him, she would have to pay for the meal.

  There were however, he noticed, several rather smart gentlemen waiting for them. They sprang to their feet eagerly when the ladies appeared.

  It was a long time, he thought, since he had taken a woman out for a meal or even had the pleasure of her company.

  He remembered the women he had met in Cairo when he had spent a short leave in that exotic city.

  How entrancing they had been!

  There was one in particular whom he had almost forgotten until now.

  As he was thinking back into the past, a voice startled him,

  “Mr. Randon will see you now, my Lord.”

  The Earl had been so far away in his thoughts that he came back to reality with a jerk.

  “Thank you,” he said to the page and followed him up the stairs.

  As he would have expected of a rich man, the suite which Mr. Randon was occupying was one of the largest and most prestigious in the hotel.

  As the Earl was ushered into the sitting room he thought for a moment it was empty.

  Then he noticed that the man he had come to see was on the sofa by the window. He was lying back against silk cushions and his legs were covered with a rug.

  The page closed the door behind him.

  As he walked across the room he saw that Mr. Randon was a man with grey hair and a lined face.

  He looked extremely ill.

  As the Earl reached him he held out his hand saying,

  “I remember your father well, and of course, Michael, you have grown a great deal since I last saw you when you were only a little boy.”

  There was a chair beside the sofa and the Earl sat down.

  “I am sorry to hear you are ill.”

  “I am very ill,” Mr. Randon replied. “But tell me about your father and when he died. I remember hearing about his death when I was in the wilds of America and could not even send a wreath for his funeral.”

  The Earl told him the date of his father’s death, which had been over two years ago, and how he had suffered for years before he finally passed away.

  “I am so sorry. Very sorry indeed,” Mr. Randon said. “And what have you been doing since I last saw you?”

  The Earl explained how he had taken a commission in the Army after he left Oxford and how he had resigned his commission when his father died.

  He told him how he had been trying ever since to repair the damage that had been done to his neglected estate.

  “I do remember your house very well.”

  “I would not like you to see it now, sir,” the Earl replied. “Nothing had been done to it during my father’s illness and the roof is falling in and very soon it will be almost uninhabitable.”

  “A sad story! A very sad story,” Mr. Randon commented. And what are you doing about it?”

  “To be honest there is nothing I can do. I have tried. I really have tried desperately, but there is too much to be done.”

  He paused a moment and then resumed,

  “You may not know, having been abroad, but we have suffered a succession of bad harvests which have been fatal for a great many farmers.”

  “And your stables?” Mr. Randon questioned. “I remember well the excellent horses your father owned.”

  “I have three left now. Two are getting old, but there is one which I can still ride and drive, behind which I came to London today.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence.

  The Earl knew that Mr. Randon was looking at him critically. There was no need for him to plead for help after what he had just said.

  Mr. Randon who was a shrewd and clever man was obviously aware of the situation.

  “What made you come to see me?” he asked.

  He broke a silence which the Earl felt was almost unbearable.

  “I have just come from White’s,” he replied, “where I was talking to my friend John, who is now Lord Shield. think you knew his father even better than you knew mine.”

  “Yes, of course,” Mr. Randon agreed. “Shield was a great friend of mine.”

  “John told me that he had read about your arrival in the newspaper and I have therefore come to see you because you knew my father.”

  “And because you need my money?”

  The Earl felt uncomfortable and ashamed of begging from a man who was a stranger to him.

  He wanted to rise and leave.

  It was only by controlling himself that he managed to answer,

  “It may seem a presumption, sir, but being desperate I came to see you, because of your past friendship with my father.”

  “How desperate?” Mr. Randon asked sharply.

  Again the Earl drew in his breath.

  He felt he had never been so humiliated in his whole life.

  “At a rough estimate,” he replied, “I owe thirty thousand pounds and have no possible means of paying it. As you will understand, the house and estate are entailed and anything saleable has already been disposed of.”

  “What do you think it would cost to put the whole place in working order as I remember it?”

  The Earl spread out his hands.

  “It would cost so much, sir, that I would not even like to guess at what would be required.”

  “I have not made my fortune,” Mr. Randon said in a hard voice, “without being business-like. You should learn, young man, to give a straight answer to a straight question.”

  The Earl knew he had been rebuked.

  He drew in his breath and declared, “Very well! I should say at the least, fifty thousand pounds.”

  There was silence.

  The Earl was convinced from the hard expression on Mr. Randon’s lined face that he would say there was nothing he could do.

  He wished he could rise to his feet and shake Mr. Randon by the hand and then he could leave with some dignity before he was told to go away.

  He thought Mr. Randon was merely thinking of a way to break it to him gently that he was asking too much.

  Then the older man said slowly, “I have a proposition to make to you.”

  The Earl felt his spirits lift.

  “Proposition, sir?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Randon replied, “and because I have a
very short time to live, I want an answer now.”

  “I understand.”

  “I appreciate your predicament,” Mr. Randon continued, “and I am prepared to make over to you the sum you require to restore your estate and pay off your debts on condition that you marry my daughter immediately.”

  The Earl drew in his breath.

  “M-marry your d-daughter?” he stammered, thinking his voice did not sound like his own.

  “I will arrange for the marriage to take place tomorrow morning. After which you will take her away to Cariston Hall because I will be leaving England.”

  “Leaving England?” the Earl repeated.

  He thought as he spoke that he was sounding extremely stupid.

  But he was finding it hard to take in exactly what Mr. Randon was saying to him.

  “I have been told,” Mr. Randon continued, “by my doctors that I may die at any moment. I have developed a dislike of funerals with people weeping and wailing and I have no wish for anyone to mourn me.

  “I shall therefore leave England the moment you have married my daughter, if you agree to do so and no one will ever hear of me again.”

  “But, sir – ” the Earl began in astonishment.

  Mr. Randon put up his hand.

  “I have told you that your answer needs to be a direct yes or no. The funds you require, which shall we say is one hundred thousand pounds to make it a round figure will be paid into your bank immediately the wedding has taken place.

  “As you are well aware, you will then take on the handling of my daughter’s fortune, which is a very considerable one and is likely to increase as the years go by.”

  “But, sir, your daughter has not met me,” the Earl protested. “She may –”

  “My daughter will do as she is told,” Mr. Randon interrupted. “I do not intend to discuss this matter any further. I am merely asking for your answer to my proposition.”

  The Earl felt his head was whirling and it was difficult to think straight.

  How could he refuse one hundred thousand pounds?

  How could he refuse not only to restore his house, but to help all his dependents on his estate, who had been suffering ever since his father died?

  Mr. Randon was looking at him expectantly.

  The Earl knew he was waiting.

  He heard a voice that did not sound like his own, “Of course, sir, I can only accept your proposition most gratefully.”

  “Then it is settled. I will organise everything and you will be married to my daughter Kristina at St. George’s Church, Hanover Square, tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock. I suppose you will be bringing your best man with you. He can act as one witness and I will arrange for one other. There will be no one else present.”

  “You mean that I shall not have the pleasure of meeting – your daughter – before I – marry her?” the Earl managed to ask.

  “I am tired and have no wish to answer any further questions. Everything will be arranged and you can deal with my Solicitor as soon as your marriage has taken place.”

  As he finished speaking Mr. Randon held out his hand.

  There was nothing the Earl could do but take it.

  “Thank you!

  “Thank you very much indeed, sir. I am very grateful and I can only hope –”

  “Goodbye!” Mr. Randon interrupted him. “As I have a great deal to do, you will understand that I now wish you to leave.”

  The Earl rose, bowed and walked towards the door.

  As he reached it Mr. Randon picked up a bell that was lying on a table by the sofa and rang it.

  Another door opened, which the Earl thought led to a bedroom. A man who looked like a valet appeared.

  As he walked towards the staircase he thought that what he just heard must be a figment of his imagination.

  ‘It could not be real! How is it possible that I could be married tomorrow to a woman I have never seen and about whom I know absolutely nothing? And how could I receive one hundred thousand pounds for doing so?

  ‘I must be mad! It cannot be true,’ he told himself.

  Then as he reached the hall and knew that his chaise was waiting outside, he remembered that Jim was hungry.

  ‘I must find him something to eat,’ he thought.

  At the same time he knew that John Shield was waiting for him at White’s.

  Quite suddenly he realised that he could not return to White’s.

  He could not discuss with John what had just happened, as his friend who would mull over the story and find it not only unbelievable but rather discreditable.

  The Earl walked out of Claridge’s.

  He stepped into his chaise and as he took the reins he said,

  “I will find you something to eat, Jim. Unless it has been closed down, there used to be a good Public House at the corner of Mount Street.”

  He saw the groom’s eyes lighten at the thought of food.

  Without saying any more the Earl drove quickly through Grosvenor Square and into Mount Street.

  He had not been wrong. The Public House was still there and looked as if it was doing well.

  “Go inside,” the Earl told him, “and buy whatever food they have ready and two bottles of beer.”

  As he spoke he drew a few silver coins out of his pocket and gave them to his groom.

  They were, in fact, almost the last assets he possessed.

  Yet, if what he had just heard was true, tomorrow he would be a very rich man indeed.

  A rich man, but tied by matrimony to a woman he had never seen and who had never seen him!

  A woman from whom it would be impossible for him to escape for the rest of his life.

  Jim was not long in coming back carrying the beer and food wrapped up roughly in paper.

  “They says, my Lord, they expects people to stay inside to eat their food, but I tells them your Lordship cannot leave the horses.”

  “We will eat in the Park,” the Earl replied, feeling that he was in considerable need of some fresh air.

  The streets, like his impending marriage, seemed to be closing in on him.

  He drove into Hyde Park and stopped where there was a quiet place shaded with trees by the Serpentine. He climbed down from the chaise, taking one bottle of beer and a little of the food that Jim had brought.

  He walked away to where there was an empty seat under a tree overlooking the water.

  As he ate, he found himself thinking that if Mr. Randon was as ill as he said he was, he might die in the night and then everything the old man had planned would be upset.

  When he went to St. George’s Church tomorrow morning he would find there was no bride. No one would be waiting there except perhaps a passer-by kneeling in prayer.

  ‘The whole situation is far too fantastic,’ he thought.

  Yet, like a drowning man clutching onto a rope, he wanted to believe it was true. That his home and the estate would be saved.

  He had known that if the title was to carry on as it had for six hundred years, passing from father to son, he would, sooner or later, need to be married.

  He had indeed been under some pressure when he was twenty and twenty-one.

  He had then decided that he would not marry until he was older and fell really in love. Of course there had been women in his life. He had been far too good-looking to escape from them.

  It was they who had done the hunting. Not he.

  It would be untrue to say that he had not enjoyed them all. But it would be equally true to say that none of them had meant anything very much to him.

  His mother who had died when he was twelve had been incredibly beautiful, as well as a very gentle and loving parent.

  At her death he had felt as if the whole world had come to an end and nothing would ever be the same without her.

  When he realised that he had to go on living without her love, he had found it a very difficult and for several years had been desperately unhappy.

  It was something he could never talk about t
o anyone so he had repressed his sorrow within himself.

  As he grew older he knew that what he wanted in a woman was the softness, the sweetness and the love he had received from his mother. Without expressing his feelings in words, he had thought that one day he would find someone like her.

  She would love him, he would love her, they would be married and live happily ever after.

  It had never crossed his mind when he was so hard up that he should look for an heiress, nor that he should marry a woman only because she could give him the money he so desperately required for his estate.

  He had seen the fortune-hunters, because they had been all too evident, when he had gone to balls and parties in London. And there were always a great number of young girls who were known to have wealthy fathers.

  But like most masculine men, the Earl had thought that nothing could be more humiliating than to be dependent on his wife, and to be obliged to ask her to pay for everything he required not only for himself but for those who were dependent upon him.

  Yet now that was just what he was being forced to do.

  He shrank with revulsion from the whole idea.

  He appreciated that Mr. Randon had promised him one hundred thousand pounds to pay his debts, but it was really a bribe to make sure that he would fulfil his part of the contract and marry his daughter.

  ‘I hate the whole idea,’ the Earl thought, looking out over the Serpentine. Once again he felt he could hear his mother’s sweet voice telling him how much she loved him.

  He could feel the softness of her arms around him.

  Doubtless Mr. Randon’s daughter would be as hard as he was himself.

  If she resembled her father, she would certainly be no beauty.

  ‘I cannot do it!’ the Earl screamed at himself.

  But he knew he was deceiving himself. He had to do it because there was no alternative.

  It was not only for himself. It was for the sake of his people. For the farmers who had tears in their eyes as they told him that their crops had failed and that they had lost their cows, their sheep, their pigs and even their chickens.

  What they needed was money. Just as he needed money for the house and the servants who were asking for their wages. And for the pensioners who could not manage on what little he had been able to give them these last few months.

  He wanted money too for the children and all those who had worked for the family for years. Like young Jim. They were hungry because he could not pay them their wages to buy food.