Two Hearts in Hungary Read online

  He was called ‘Bay’ after the famous horse of that name, which had won the Derby in 1836.

  Bay Middleton had been invited to Godollo for the hunting and so was Aletha’s father.

  Aletha had prayed at the time that one day she might go with him.

  And now the Empress was actually coming to Ling Park!

  She knew that nothing could be more thrilling for her father, herself and everyone in the house and on the estate.

  There was no doubt that Mr. Heywood was excited as well when he heard the news.

  “I was going to talk to Your Grace,” he said to the Duke, “about some horses that are coming up for sale at Tattersalls this week. But if we are to buy Hungarian bloodstock, it will be unnecessary.”

  “Why do we not have both?” the Duke asked him. “And, if you leave for Hungary at the same time as I go to Denmark, there will still be plenty of time to have them in perfect trim for the arrival the Empress.”

  “You know well that there is nothing I would enjoy more, Your Grace, than spending your money!” Mr. Heywood remarked.

  The Duke laughed.

  News of the Empress’s proposed visit in the autumn ran like wildfire through the house, the estate, the villages and the whole County.

  On the following days there were endless callers.

  They had really come just to ask if it was true that the Empress intended to stay at Ling Park.

  “It is quite true,” Aletha repeated over and over again.

  She waited to see the surprise, excitement and the expression of envy that sprang to the callers’ eyes.

  Despite her assurance that nothing needed doing to the suite that the Empress would be occupying, her father had already given orders that some improvements should be made.

  The gold leaf on the ceilings and dados was to be touched up amongst others.

  “How long are you going to be in Denmark, Papa?” Aletha asked him when he began to arrange for his cases to be packed for the journey.

  His medals and decorations also had to be taken from the safe.

  “I am afraid it will be at least two weeks, my dearest,” he answered, “I wish I could take you with me.”

  “I wish you could,” Aletha said. “It will be very dull here without you.”

  “Your cousin Jane is coming to stay,” the Duke replied.

  Aletha made a little grimace, but she did not say anything.

  Cousin Jane was over sixty and slightly deaf. She lived only a few miles away and was only too willing to come to Ling Park to chaperone Aletha whenever she was asked to do so.

  At the same time she was undoubtedly a considerable bore and Aletha knew that her father was careful not to have Cousin Jane to stay when he was at home.

  However there was one consolation.

  She could escape from listening to Cousin Jane’s constant complaints about her health by going riding.

  Aletha had once suggested another and younger relative should chaperone her, but found that she was a very poor horsewoman. She became resentful if those who were riding with her went ahead of her, leaving her behind.

  It was not the same as having her father there to ride out with her.

  Whenever he was at home, there were always amusing and interesting people turning up to see him day after day.

  There were plenty of Point-to-Points and Steeplechases that took place regularly in the vicinity.

  “Don’t be away for too long, Papa,” she begged.

  “Not one minute more than I have to,” the Duke replied. “Much as I do like the Danes, I find the Ceremonial visits and the endless speeches that go with them extremely boring.”

  “Surely the Queen could find somebody else to send in your place?” Aletha suggested crossly.

  The Duke’s eyes twinkled.

  “Her Majesty likes to be represented by someone who looks the part.”

  Aletha laughed.

  “Which you certainly do, Papa. In fact I suspect that as usual you will leave behind you a great number of broken hearts and this time it will be Danish ones!”

  “I cannot think where you get these ideas from,” her father replied.

  At the same time she knew that he rather enjoyed the compliment.

  The day before the Duke left Mr. Heywood arrived for a last word on the horses before he too left the next morning for Hungary on his mission for the Duke.

  They talked about the horses all the afternoon.

  Finally Mr. Heywood stayed on for dinner, sending a groom to his house so that he could change into his evening clothes.

  When Aletha came down wearing one of the pretty new gowns that had been bought for her debut in London, he said,

  “You will most undoubtedly, Lady Aletha, be the belle of every ball you attend, just as I remember your mother being many years ago.”

  “I shall never be as lovely as Mama,” Aletha answered, “but I will certainly do my best not to disgrace Papa as his only daughter.”

  “You will never do that,” Mr. Heywood smiled.

  He spoke with a sincerity that she liked and found refreshing.

  She realised that he admired her and it was somehow very consoling.

  She was always afraid that she would not live up to the reputation of the beautiful Lings, who all down the centuries had been acclaimed for their loveliness.

  They had all been painted by every famous artist of their time.

  In the Van Dyck Gallery at Ling Park there were portraits that she bore a recognisable resemblance to.

  Also to those by Gainsborough, Sir Joshua Reynolds and Romney, which were hanging in the drawing rooms or on the stairs.

  ‘I am certainly up against some very stiff competition,’ Aletha mused to herself.

  Yet she knew that, if Mr. Heywood admired her, she need not be as nervous as she had been two or three years ago.

  Then she had gone through what she always referred to as her ‘ugly stage’.

  She was very conscious that her father’s friends had said,

  “Oh, is this Aletha? I always expected that she would look like her mother who I thought was one of the loveliest women I had ever seen.”

  They had not meant to be unkind, but at the same time, Aletha had prayed every night that she would grow more beautiful.

  Then, almost like a miracle, her prayers had been answered.

  Now she could definitely see, when she looked in her mirror, a distinct resemblance to her mother and to the other beautiful Duchesses.

  But she was still apprehensive.

  Later in the evening when Mr. Heywood had gone, Aletha said to her father,

  “I hope, Papa, that Mr. Heywood is right and when I do appear in London people will admire me.”

  “What you mean by ‘people’ is men!” the Duke said. “I can assure you, my darling, that you are very lovely now and will be even more so as you grow older.”

  “Do you really – mean that – Papa?”

  “I do,” the Duke answered, “and I am already looking round to find you a husband.”

  Aletha stiffened and stared at him in astonishment.

  “A – h-husband?” she stammered.

  “Of course,” the Duke said. “If your mother was here I know she would be as anxious as I am that you should make a brilliant marriage and with somebody we would welcome here as a son-in-law.”

  Aletha was silent for a moment.

  Then she said in a small voice,

  “I think – Papa, I would – rather find – my own husband.”

  The Duke shook his head.

  “That is impossible.”

  “But – why?” Aletha asked.

  “Because in Royal and noble families like ours marriages are always arranged discreetly but definitively.”

  He paused before he added,

  “As my only daughter, I shall be very particular who you will marry and determined that it will be somebody who will, in common parlance, ‘fit in’.”

  “But, Papa, suppose I d
o not – love him?”

  “Love usually comes after marriage and I promise you, my precious daughter, I will find you a man who I am quite certain you will fall head over heels in love with.”

  “B-but – suppose,” Aletha said in a small voice, “he does not – fall in love with me and only – wants me because I am – your daughter?”

  Her father made a little gesture with his hand.

  “That, I am afraid, is inevitable. A man, if he is an aristocrat, of course, hopes he will fall in love in the same way as I fell in love with your beloved mother.”

  It was as if he was looking back in time before he went on,

  “But he usually accepts what the French call a ‘mariage de convenance’ simply because ‘blue blood’ should be matched with ‘blue blood’ especially if his bride is beautiful enough to carry on the line in the way that is should be.”

  Aletha was silent.

  Then she said,

  “I think that it sounds very cold-blooded and rather like being a piece of goods on the counter of a shop.”

  “It is not really like that,” her father replied a little sharply. “I promise you, my dearest, I will not make you marry anyone you do not like.”

  “I do want to – love someone,” Aletha said softly, “and I want him to – love me for – myself.”

  “A great many men will love you for yourself but, when it is a question of marriage, I think I am far more likely to choose the right man to ensure your future happiness than anyone you could choose for yourself at your age.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Aletha asked.

  “I mean,” the Duke answered, “that a young girl is easily deceived by a man who has the ‘gift of the gab’ as it is called.”

  He thought for a moment or two before he went on,

  “Honeyed words do not always come easily from someone who is self-controlled and has been brought up not to ‘wear his heart on his sleeve’.”

  “What you are implying,” Aletha said slowly, “is that I might be carried away by what a man says to me and not by what he is feeling.”

  “There are men who can be very glib,” the Duke said cynically, “especially when it is a question of money and rank.”

  Aletha was silent.

  She knew that any man in England, whoever he was, would consider it a privilege to be the son-in-law of the Duke of Buclington.

  She was the Duke’s only daughter and while the major part of his fortune would go to her brother, who at this moment was in India as an aide-de-camp to the Viceroy, some of it would be hers.

  She had also been left a considerable sum of money by her mother.

  Her father had not put this into words.

  She was, however, intelligent enough to realise that there would be fortune-hunters in London who would consider it a triumph if they could marry her and into a Ducal family

  It would not be for herself, but, as he had said, as her father’s daughter.

  “We have not really had a chance to talk of this before,” her father was saying, “but I had intended to do so before we go to London.”

  He paused a moment to cough and then went on,

  “My dearest, you have to be sensible and leave things in my hands. You have trusted me since you were a child and I cannot believe that you will not do so now.”

  “I love you, Papa, and, of course, I trust you,” Aletha said. “But I want to fall in love as you fell in love with Mama and she with you.”

  “That is something that happens only once in a million years,” the Duke replied. “When I walked into the room and saw your mother, there seemed to be a dazzling light about her and I knew that I had found the girl whoever she might be and from wherever she came that I wanted as my wife.”

  “And Mama said,” Aletha replied, “that when she saw you she knew that you were the man of her dreams.”

  “We were very very happy,” the Duke insisted.

  There was a pain in his voice that was always there when he spoke of his wife.

  “I too want to feel like that,” Aletha said quickly. “I want to meet the – Prince of my – dreams!”

  “Then you must just pray that is what you will do,” the Duke replied.

  She knew as he spoke that he did not believe it was possible.

  As he had said, what had happened to her mother and him was something that might happen once in a million years or in a cheap novelette from a bookshop.

  The Duke rose to his feet.

  “If I am to leave so early, I think I should go to bed. Don’t you worry about anything, my precious, and we will talk about this when I come home and before we leave for London.”

  He put his arm around her before he added,

  “Enjoy yourself with the horses. I promise I will make it up to you for the two weeks of boredom as soon as I return.”

  “I shall miss you – Papa.”

  “As I shall miss you.”

  The Duke walked up the stairs with his arm round her shoulders.

  When they reached her bedroom door, he kissed her affectionately.

  As he went down the passage to his own room, the Duke was mulling over in his mind the young gentlemen whom he had seen recently at Court.

  It was not going to be easy to choose one who seemed to be suitable as a husband for his beautiful daughter.

  There always seemed to be some flaw somewhere, which told him instinctively that they would be unfaithful within twelve months of the Wedding Ceremony.

  ‘I will find somebody,’ he thought confidently as he climbed into his comfortable bed.

  *

  Aletha, having undressed, then pulled back the curtains in her bedroom and was looking out of the window.

  There was a full moon and a multitude of stars filled the sky.

  It was still cold at nights, but the moonlight on the lake glimmered like silver.

  The daffodils were just beginning to make a carpet of gold beneath the old oak trees.

  Usually Aletha was very moved by the glorious beauty of her home and everything about it.

  Tonight, however, she was looking out with unseeing eyes.

  She was thinking of leaving everything that she loved and that was familiar and of going away with a strange man to a strange house.

  There would be strange servants instead of those who had known her since she was born.

  There would be strange relatives who would doubtless disapprove of many of the things she did.

  Perhaps the man she married would not ride as well as her father did, or for that matter, as well as she rode herself.

  ‘How can I possibly bear it?’ she asked the stars. ‘And yet I want love, the love that will make everything – even a cottage seem – wonderful because – he is there.’

  She found herself thinking again of the Empress Elizabeth.

  Because of the beauty, so many men loved her and, if all the gossip was really true, there were some she loved in return.

  Aletha knew only too well that she wanted something very different for herself.

  She wanted marriage in which the outside world did not matter in the least.

  A marriage where the only thing that counted was her love for her husband and his love for her.

  She gazed again at the moon.

  ‘Am I asking the impossible?’ she enquired. ‘Must I really be content with second best?’

  She knew that hoped-for love after marriage could never be the same as marrying the man of her dreams.

  Would horses, however magnificent, however swift and however exciting be the same as love?

  She wished that this topic of conversation had not arisen the night before her father was to leave for Denmark.

  She so wanted to go on talking to him.

  She wanted to try to make him fully understand that, while she was may be asking for the impossible, she must nevertheless strive to attain it.

  She suddenly had a terrifying feeling.

  Suppose, almost before she could re
alise what was happening, she found herself the wife of some odd man with whom she had very little if anything in common?

  “I cannot bear it!” she called out aloud in the darkness of her room.

  She thought that, if this should happen to her, she would run away.

  Her father was going to Denmark.

  Perhaps in Denmark he would find her a husband although it seemed very unlikely?

  A foreigner, a man whose language was different and about whose national customs she knew nothing.

  She felt a sudden panic sweep over her.

  It was almost as if she had been out sailing on a smooth sea which had suddenly become tempestuous.

  ‘I must escape!’ she thought.

  Then she told herself that she must be sensible, talk to her father and explain to him how she felt about his ideas for her.

  Because he loved her he would surely understand.

  She had an impulse to run to his room to tell him now what she was feeling.

  She wanted to know that he understood, as he had understood when as a child she was frightened of the dark.

  Then again she told herself that it would be a very selfish thing for her to do.

  He had to leave very early in the morning to cross the North Sea to Denmark.

  ‘Why does he have to go now at this moment?’ she asked herself angrily.

  Instead they could have been setting off together from Tilbury to Ostend and travelling from there by train to Budapest.

  Together they could have inspected the Hungarian horses that he was so determined to buy.

  They could have ridden side by side in the wild open country that was the joy and delight of the Empress Elizabeth.

  ‘If we were there, it would be far easier to talk to Papa about love,’ Aletha told herself.

  But it was Mr. Heywood who was going to Hungary instead of her.

  It would be he who would have all the fun of selecting the finest and best horses.

  It was something she knew that she would enjoy more than anything she had ever done, especially if she could be with her father and talk to him about the good and bad points of each horse.

  She could imagine how excited they would be at finding really superb animals that were exactly what they wanted.

  It was exasperating to think that everything had gone wrong.

  She turned from the window.