The Magnificent Marquis Read online

  The Marquis laughed.

  “Well, he has succeeded or rather de Lesseps has and we can be pleased that it has not cost us anything.”

  “That is where you are wrong, Rex. I agree that I was against the idea in the beginning, but now I think that the Canal could be an advantage rather than a disadvantage to England.”

  The Marquis stared at him.

  “You are doing a complete about-turn – ”

  The Prime Minister sighed.

  “I opposed the building of the Suez Canal almost as strongly as Palmerston, but I must be honest and recognise now that it could be of great use as the gateway to India.”

  “You astound me, Prime Minister.”

  “Sometimes I rather astound myself, Rex, but I am worried and depressed that I was not wise enough to realise the possibility at the very beginning. In fact, what I want now is shares in the Suez Canal for Great Britain!”

  The Marquis stared at him in further astonishment.

  “I never thought I would hear you say that – ”

  “I am being honest as I have always been. I made a mistake and I now admit that the Canal is essential for India and for us. If we cannot obtain complete control of it, we might at least prevent it going wholly to the French.

  “I now understand that new shares will be offered and what I want you to find out is what will be their price and if it is possible for us to purchase them.”

  “I will do my best,” the Marquis responded. “But as usual you have given me an extremely difficult task. I suppose we can only hope that we can find a way to make amends for the past British opposition to the Canal.”

  The Prime Minister nodded as if it was impossible to put what he felt into words.

  “Very well, Prime Minister, I will go to Egypt and see what I can find out. But, as you know, if the French have a hold on the Canal they will not give it up lightly, especially not to us, the British, of all people.”

  “You are surely right, Rex, but I have a feeling in my bones that sooner or later the French will find it too costly a project and that is where we could come in.”

  “What I will need,” added the Marquis, “more than anything else is to take a good interpreter with me. I don’t speak any Arabic and I imagine, if they are really having difficulties, they will not shout it from the rooftops.”

  “You are quite right, but interpreters in Arabic are very difficult to find. And if he travels with you, he must be so careful what he says in front of others.”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “That is only too true. But do your best to find one for me as I would intend to leave in three days time.”

  The Prime Minister was obviously delighted, as he had expected that the Marquis would refuse to go until the Season had come to an end.

  He imagined the reason was a feminine one, but he was too polite to ask questions, so he merely remarked,

  “I am deeply grateful to you, Rex. You have never failed your country in the past and I just cannot believe you will fail me now.”

  “Don’t be too optimistic, Prime Minister!”

  “I am sure that there will be many difficulties. The worst of them, of course, being those who live just across the Channel.”

  “So true, Prime Minister, and naturally de Lesseps, being a Frenchman, will always give preference to his own countrymen over ours.”

  When the Marquis left No. 10 Downing Street, he felt that he had committed himself.

  Equally he would undoubtedly find his mission so much more interesting than just wandering around Europe seeking another beauty to take Silvia Alsted’s place.

  This was what he had done in similar circumstances in the past.

  *

  When he arrived back at his house in Park Lane, he instructed his butler that he would be leaving immediately for Harlington Priory.

  And he was also to inform the Captain of his yacht that he was to be ready to put to sea on Saturday.

  “You’re leaving us, my Lord!” the butler exclaimed in surprise.

  “I have an important engagement abroad, Cheshunt, which I have to keep, but I will not be away for too long.”

  “I do hope not, my Lord, as your Lordship has two horses running at Royal Ascot and everyone in the house is backing them.”

  “Then I would hope they will not be disappointed, Cheshunt, and if I am not back in time to see them run, you must cheer them on on my behalf.”

  He walked upstairs and Cheshunt stared after him with a concerned look in his eyes.

  He had known the Marquis since he was a small boy and was very fond of him, as were the entire household.

  He only hoped that his Lordship was not in trouble, yet he rather suspected that he might be and that actually would not be a surprise.

  The Marquis drove down to the country with a team of his fastest horses.

  They were all perfectly matched stallions and were obviously delighted to leave London.

  The Marquis was not as enthusiastic as they were, but at the same time he knew that he had to leave because of Silvia Alsted.

  It was easier to have a valid excuse rather than to invent one.

  He also had no wish to see Silvia again and he was certain it would all result in another tearful scene.

  He had thus written her a most affectionate note, thanking her for the happiness she had given him and how sorry he was to be going abroad for a vital engagement that could not be postponed.

  He did not explain what it was about or where he was going. He reckoned that if she did write to him, as the women he let down usually did, his secretary would keep any letters for his return.

  By then, with any luck, she would have discovered some other gentleman to amuse her and in time he would be forgotten.

  Fortunately Harlington Priory was only about two and a half hours drive from London.

  On the way he remembered that he would have to communicate with one of his neighbours, as he would be unable to attend the dinner party Lord Durham was giving where he had promised to make a speech.

  The occasion had been planned for some time and concerned the complete repair and enlargement of the local Racecourse – for generations the people of Hertfordshire had raced their horses on it.

  It was the Marquis supported by Lord Durham, who had taken up the idea and promised to raise the necessary funds.

  As the Marquis was enjoying himself in London, Lord Durham, who preferred the country, had in the past few months done all the necessary work.

  Lord Durham had arranged for the dinner party at his house to inform his neighbours about developments and these included new stables for the horses and a new stand.

  ‘Durham will be so annoyed with me,’ the Marquis thought, ‘but if I give him a larger cheque than I originally intended, he will be happy to take my place.’

  Actually he disliked Lord Durham and would have much preferred to work with someone else in the County, but Lord Durham’s estate bordered his and he was the Lord Lieutenant.

  Thus Lord Durham was more important officially than anyone else in the County.

  The Marquis’s father had been Lord Lieutenant for the last twenty years of his life and when he died his son was thought to be too young, in the Queen’s opinion, to follow immediately in his father’s footsteps.

  Then Lord Durham, to his utmost satisfaction, had been appointed and the Marquis was certain that he would continue in office until he was carried to his grave.

  When the Marquis arrived at The Priory, he thought it was looking even more beautiful than it usually did.

  It had been built in the reign of Henry VII and, with the Dissolution of the Monasteries, it had then fallen into the hands of the Earls of Harlington.

  It was as the ninth Earl that the Marquis had been rewarded by Queen Victoria the previous year and created the first Marquis.

  He was being thanked for what he had done for Her Majesty in India, where he had not only saved the lives of many soldiers, but also prevented an upr
ising when it had been least expected.

  It had been fomented by Russian interference and it was more by good luck than anything else that the Marquis had been in that part of India when the incident occurred.

  It was only by his quickness of thought that it had been possible to forestall a damaging revolution that would have wiped out the small British contingent stationed there.

  It was entirely thanks to his initiative and his innate bravery that disaster had been avoided.

  Because it was considered a mistake for people to talk too much about the incident, the Viceroy had thought that the best way to reward the Marquis was to appeal to Queen Victoria.

  She had appreciated clearly what was expected of her and she made him the first Marquis of Harlington when he had not yet reached his twenty-seventh birthday.

  Naturally he was delighted and honoured, but found that his new title carried a great deal more responsibility.

  Now he was only concerned with tidying up the ends at home whilst he was away for what he hoped would only be a short period of time.

  He told his secretary to keep an eye on everything on the estate and he knew that the old servants would keep the house as perfect and safe during his absence as they did when they expected him to drop in at any time.

  He went to bed quite late, having found that there were a number of decisions to be made about the estate.

  *

  The Marquis woke early and rode before breakfast.

  He enjoyed galloping over his own land and taking the jumps that were familiar to him ever since he had first rode a spirited horse of his own.

  After breakfast he ordered the special team that drew his up-to-date chaise to be waiting for him at twelve o’clock.

  “I am going to call on Lord Durham and I will not return when I leave him, but drive straight on to London,” he told the butler.

  “Take good care of yourself, my Lord, and we’ll all be waiting anxiously till you gets back.”

  “I know, Dawkins, that all will look as it does now. And do tell your wife that dinner last night was delicious. I don’t suppose I will eat a better one until I return.”

  Dawkins, who was over sixty, smiled.

  “That’s what we want to hear, Master Rex – I mean my Lord, and I promise nothing’ll go wrong here while you are away.”

  “I know I can depend on you, Dawkins.”

  He climbed into his chaise and drove towards Lord Durham’s house – which he thought inferior to his own – it had been built at the start of the century and at the time was hailed as modern and up-to-date.

  Lord Durham had spent a great deal of money on it and on the vast garden that surrounded it, but the Marquis had often thought he was jealous of The Priory.

  Simply because it was unique and very much older than any other house in the County and the family tree of the Harlingtons was unquestionably respected by everyone.

  The Marquis drove along the country lanes thinking as he did so that he was quite content when he was at The Priory to be on his own.

  Whatever his relations might say to him, he had no intention of marrying anyone.

  ‘Perhaps when I am forty, I will think differently,’ he reflected, ‘but for the moment I think it’s a question of ‘he who travels fastest travels alone’.’

  He then turned in at Lord Durham’s rather ugly and over-decorated gates and drove up the long drive towards Durham House.

  Every time he visited it, he thought how incredibly unattractive it was compared to The Priory.

  If he had been asked to design a house for the Lord Lieutenant of Hertfordshire, he could most certainly have provided a more handsome and attractive one.

  The Marquis was not expected, but the butler bowed him respectfully into a sitting room.

  He said he would find his Lordship who he thought was in the garden.

  When the Marquis was left alone, he considered that the room was rather gloomy and everything about it was too new to be of any particular interest.

  Because it was hot and rather stuffy he opened one of the French windows to let in some air – the garden at least, he had to admit, was well laid out and the flowers themselves were most colourful.

  As he took a step further forward to go outside, he was aware of voices emanating from a window to his left.

  To his astonishment he heard Lord Durham’s voice shouting,

  “If I have to beat you till you are unconscious, you will marry the Comte.”

  “I am too old to be beaten now, Papa – as you beat me when I was a child,” a soft little voice responded.

  “I am not joking,” Lord Durham screamed. “It is a great honour that the Comte should ask for your hand in marriage and I have given him my full approval. And now I will have no arguments about it!”

  “But I am the one who has to marry him, Papa,” the girl protested. “As you well know, he is not French but Egyptian and there is something horrid and beastly about him.”

  “You are talking complete and utter nonsense,” said Lord Durham furiously. “I do believe the Comte’s mother was an Egyptian, but he has large properties in France, and you should be pleased, in fact delighted, that any man of his position and his wealth should wish to marry you.”

  “He is old, ugly and unpleasant and why should I want his money?” the girl riposted with spirit.

  “If you don’t want it, I do!” Lord Durham answered coldly. “He is most generous and exactly the sort of son-in-law I require. He is coming here this very evening and you will accept him and be married as soon as it is possible for the nuptials to be arranged.”

  “I refuse! I utterly refuse, Papa! I hate him and it makes me creep even to see him. I would rather die than to let him touch me.”

  There was a sincerity in the girl’s voice the Marquis found very touching.

  Then there was a hard sound and a scream and with horror he reckoned that Lord Durham had struck his daughter.

  If there was one thing the Marquis disliked, it was cruelty of any sort.

  For a moment he contemplated hammering on the window to tell Lord Durham to stop bullying the poor girl for standing up to him.

  Then, as he struck her again, there was yet another scream.

  The door into the room must then have opened, for he heard the butler intoning,

  “The Marquis of Harlington’s waiting to see you, my Lord.”

  “Harlington! I wonder what he wants?”

  Then Lord Durham shouted at his daughter,

  “If I have hurt you, it is what you deserve. Tonight you will meet the Comte and accept his offer of marriage.”

  There was no answer but a sob from the girl.

  The Marquis then moved quickly back through the French window and into the room he had just left.

  He felt desperately sorry for the girl who was being treated in such a horrible way by her odious father.

  But it was none of his business and he recognised that he had no right to interfere.

  At the same time it made him dislike Lord Durham even more than he did already.

  A moment later the door opened and Lord Durham walked in smiling and holding out his hand,

  “How delightful it is to see you, Harlington. I was wondering when you would be home and when we would have a chance of talking again about the Racecourse.”

  “I have just come here to see you to tell you that unfortunately I have to go abroad for a short time and I will therefore have to miss the dinner party you have arranged.”

  “Miss it?” Lord Durham queried. “I cannot believe it! You know I have been planning it for months and it’s most important that you should be present.”

  “I know, and I can only say how terribly sorry I am to behave so badly, but you will understand that it is not a journey of pleasure, but one of duty.”

  He spoke in the sort of knowing voice which made Lord Durham nod his head in agreement as if he was used to such situations.

  “Naturally I do understand, my dear boy
, but at the same time we will miss you.”

  “I feel sure that you will say how sorry I am not to be present,” added the Marquis, “and I am quite prepared to start the fund with a cheque for two thousand pounds!”

  Because he was not expecting it Lord Durham gave a little gasp.

  “That is indeed generous of you, Harlington, very generous, and I am sure everyone will be most impressed. Obviously I hope that they too will open their purses.”

  “I hope so too and I have brought some papers with me that will tell you what my people have estimated all the construction work will cost.”

  “Thank you, thank you,” said Lord Durham. “I will read them very carefully and discuss them with you when you return. Will you be away for long?”

  “No, only a short time, Durham, I cannot give you an exact date, but I will want to see my horses running at Royal Ascot.”

  Lord Durham chortled.

  “Yes, of course, you must not miss Ascot.”

  “I am sorry to have to be so tiresome and if there is anything you need from The Priory, my secretary will be only too willing to supply it for you.”

  “That will be most useful. Now let me offer you a drink.”

  The Marquis shook his head.

  “No, it is too early in the morning and I am actually on my way to London.”

  “I had no idea you were at The Priory.”

  “I only arrived last night to make sure everything was in order and to tell the servants that I will be away, but my old staff, who were all with my father, keep things fully shipshape whether I am here or not.”

  “Certainly, Harlington, and let me thank you once again for your most generous cheque. I will, I promise, make it clear to all those present how sorry you are not to be with us in person.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  He walked to the door and Lord Durham opened it for him.

  As they walked into the hall, the Marquis saw that his horses were waiting outside and the groom who had run from the stables when he had arrived was still standing at their heads.

  He shook hands with Lord Durham and walked to the back of his carriage.

  As he did so, he hesitated for a moment.

  Then jumping into the driving seat he picked up the reins and as Lord Durham waved he set off down the drive.