Desire in the Desert Page 2

  The Marquis stiffened.

  He had his hand on the handle of the door, but he made no effort to walk into the library.

  “Well, we will be in a nice mess if he turns nasty!” Nigel said.

  “Don’t be so stupid!” his brother answered. “Cousin Druce would not want any sort of scandal in the family. Besides, as his Heir Presumptive, it is traditional for him to support me.”

  “Suppose he does marry?” Nigel queried.

  There was a moment’s silence and then Julius said,

  “Then we will just have to drop him accidentally in the lake or find a horse to throw him in the same way that his wife died.”

  There was silence for a moment and then Nigel replied,

  “I was not going to tell you, but I think there is something you ought to know.”

  “What is that?” Julius asked sharply.

  “I went to see Crabtree, Papa’s Solicitor, the other day.”

  “What about?”

  “I wanted to find out if our deceased uncle, the old Marquis, had made any provision in his will for Papa that we have not heard about.”

  “And had he?” Julius enquired.

  “No,” Nigel replied, “but Crabtree told me that over half of the fortune of the reigning Marquis of Peverell is entailed over to his eldest son, while the rest, which is a very considerable amount, is free to go to anyone he fancies.”

  “Good God!” Julius exclaimed. “Do you really mean to say that members of the family have no legal claim on it?”

  “None at all.” Nigel answered. “Which he said was unusual in great families, but it is what the Peverells have done all through the centuries.”

  “I have never heard anything so damnable!” Julius said. “Do you really mean that Cousin Druce could cut us off without a penny if he wishes to do so?”

  “That is what Crabtree explained to me and he is supposed to be one of the best Solicitors in London.”

  “Well, all I can say is, if the Founder of the family set up this preposterous idea, I hope he rots in his grave!” Julius spluttered.

  “He will have by this time,” Nigel replied, “and actually it has been worrying me. I am finding Betsy very expensive. In fact, like most of her profession, she has a craving for jewels!”

  “There is no reason for you to complain,” Julius replied. “My little ‘soiled dove’ has asked me for a carriage and two new horses. She says those she has are not smart enough for Rotten Row.”

  “I can only hope that Cousin Druce is ready to pay for them,” Nigel remarked.

  The Marquis decided that he had already heard enough.

  He opened the door and walked into the library.

  His cousins, elegantly but in his opinion overdressed, were sprawling on the red damask sofas that were arranged on either side of the very fine marble mantelpiece.

  Above it there was an exceptionally fine picture by Stubbs of three horses.

  For a moment neither of them moved as the Marquis came into the room.

  Then Nigel sprang to his feet and said in an ingratiating way that was very different from the way he had spoken to his brother,

  “Good morning, Cousin Druce. How delightful to see you. It is far too long since we have had the pleasure of doing so.”

  “Good morning, Nigel. Good morning, Julius,” the Marquis replied, “I feel you must have left London surprisingly early to get here before luncheon.”

  Julius smiled and the Marquis thought that, as a woman might find it irresistible, his eyes were more revealing.

  He knew that he was calculating how much he could extract from him.

  “I am, of course, delighted to offer you luncheon,” he went on. “It will be ready almost immediately, but I cannot help thinking that you have another reason for coming to see me, apart from the fact that you will enjoy an excellent meal.”

  There was silence and then, as the two brothers looked at each other, he added,

  “If it is a question of money, let me tell you in advance that it is quite impossible for either of you to have any more this year than I have already given to you.”

  “But – Cousin Druce – !” Julius began, only to be silenced as the Marquis held up his hand.

  “As I have explained to you the last time, you are not the only members of the family I have to support. As you are aware, or you should be, there are some elderly ladies like our grandmother who are constantly in need of the best medical attention.”

  He paused and added,

  “There are also a number of cousins, just like yourselves, who have to be provided for.”

  “We understand that,” Julius said quickly. “At the same time we are both in a very difficult situation at the moment and I feel sure, Cousin Druce, you would not like our debts to become public knowledge.”

  He threw out his hand in a theatrical gesture as he finished,

  “But it will undoubtedly happen if my tailor and coachbuilder decide to make themselves unpleasant.”

  “I am afraid that is your business and not mine,” the Marquis said coldly. “I have been thinking, Julius, that the best thing you could possibly do would be to give up your life of unceasing gaiety and settle down.”

  Julius stared at him in astonishment.

  “Are you suggesting I should – get married?”

  “Of course,” the Marquis said. “And I think you would both be happier if you lived in the country. It would certainly prove a great deal cheaper than the endless temptations of London.”

  “You can hardly set yourself up as an advocate of marriage,” Julius remarked rather impertinently. “You yourself are an avowed bachelor.”

  The Marquis laughed lightly.

  “It is not only the prerogative of the women to change their minds.”

  There was a stunned silence.

  “Are you – saying,” Nigel enquired in a voice that seemed to tremble, “that you are – thinking of – marrying again?”

  “Shall I say I am considering it,” the Marquis said, “but there is no hurry, except that if I decide to ‘take the plunge’ it will make our grandmother a very happy woman.”

  He would have been extremely obtuse if he had not realised that he had struck a blow which had drained the colour from both his cousins’ faces.

  They were prevented, however, from expressing the words of horror that were very evident in their eyes because the library door opened and the butler announced,

  “Luncheon is served, my Lord.”

  “Thank you,” the Marquis said. “Now come along, you two, I rode a long way this morning, so I am feeling extremely hungry as I am sure you both are as well.”

  He then walked ahead of the two young men, aware as they followed him that they were shocked to the point where they had not the slightest idea what they could do about it.

  Luncheon was a meal at which the Marquis ate hungrily and talked good-humouredly.

  His guests picked at their food and were almost silent. Only when they left the dining room did the Marquis pause before they reached the hall to say,

  “I hope you will excuse me if I now say ‘goodbye’, but I have so much to do before I leave for London later in the afternoon.”

  “You are coming to London?” Nigel said rather stupidly.

  “Yes, I am,” the Marquis replied, “but I doubt whether I shall be able to see you as I have a great number of engagements.”

  He put out his hand to his elder cousin.

  “Goodbye, Julius,” he said, “and think over what I have said about getting married. I am sure there are many charming young women who would be only too anxious to be your wife and your father’s house in Surrey has been empty for far too long.”

  Before Julius could reply, he was shaking Nigel by the hand and saying,

  “I will have a serious talk with our relative, the Countess of Beddington. She has two debutante daughters and is giving a large number of parties for them. I am sure you will find some charming young ladies there, who
will prove to be rather less expensive than the present woman, who I have already heard has a nickname of the ‘Pocket Buster’!”

  He was aware as he finished speaking that Nigel was looking at him in astonishment.

  As he walked away towards his study, he heard him stutter,

  “Now – how the Hell did he know about – ?”

  The Marquis closed the door of his study sharply.

  What he had overheard before he entered the library had only confirmed what he knew anyway from a number of his friends.

  They thought that it only right that he should be aware of the extravagance of his two cousins.

  Now as he sat at his desk he knew that he had frightened them for the moment.

  They would return to London with their tails between their legs.

  Yet it was unlikely that they would take his advice unless he could follow up his first warning with something to prove that he was not speaking lightly.

  ‘I am damned if I will get married just to convince them,’ he said beneath his breath.

  There was certainly no one at the moment he would consider making his wife, even if it was possible for him to do so.

  He was in fact having a passionate affaire de coeur with Lady Leverton, who was one of the most outstanding beauties in London Society.

  She was alluring, exotic and extremely passionate.

  Most conveniently she had a husband who was twenty years older than herself who preferred to stay in the country.

  The Marquis had no illusions but, while he found her enticing and very satisfactory in bed, his heart was not in the least involved.

  If she unexpectedly became a widow, which was unlikely, he would immediately disappear in case she became a danger to his freedom.

  ‘Not even to try and curb Julius and Nigel and reduce their extravagance,’ he thought, ‘would I do anything so stupid as to ruin my own life again as it would have been had Louise lived.’

  He felt himself shudder as he had done before, as he thought that she might still be with him.

  He might still have to listen to her voice telling him over and over again how despicable and how unpleasant she found him.

  He could feel hatred vibrating from her so that it was difficult for him even to be in the same room as she was.

  ‘Anything is better than marriage!’ he thought now.

  He rose from the desk and walked to the window.

  He gazed out at the beauty of the garden, the well-kept lawns, the daffodils, golden under the trees, the lilac and syringa bushes just coming into flower.

  The herd of spotted deer were lying under the great oak trees in the Park.

  He thought nothing could be more beautiful or more peaceful and, what was best, he had it all to himself.

  For this weekend he had been invited to a house party where Lady Leverton was also a guest and he was looking forward to it.

  At the same time there was always the joy he was knowing. He could be all alone with his horses and his many dogs, without a tiresome wife demanding that he dance attendance upon her.

  Or worse still, upbraiding him for not doing so.

  ‘I am a very happy man,’ he told himself, ‘with the exception of those two difficult young men.’

  It would be quite easy for him to tell them to go to the devil and leave them to their fate.

  But they were Pevels and he had a sense of duty towards his family and a pride in his ancestry.

  The lineage must not be soiled and however much it cost and however much it annoyed him, he would have to save them at the last moment.

  Now he had given them both a severe shock.

  He would somehow have to substantiate his position so that they would take him seriously.

  “But not marriage!”

  The words seemed to be written over the darkness of the oak trees in letters of fire.

  Then he recalled what Nigel had said about his estate when he died and it was something that the Marquis had not given a single thought to.

  Now he was aware that he could divert part of his fortune and it would amount to a very great deal to anyone he chose.

  The difficulty would be how he could convince his nephews that he was intending to enrich another person by such a bequest.

  ‘There must be someone they would believe,’ he told himself.

  Suddenly he was no longer seeing the peace and serenity of the garden.

  His thoughts were on the long list of relatives in whose veins ran the same blood as his own.

  Then he had an idea and it was a very good one.

  The Marquis was smiling as he turned from the window and went back to his desk.

  He sat down and rang the bell for his secretary.

  Mr. Turner had been with the Marquis’s father for four years before he died.

  When the present Marquis took over, he found him invaluable and he knew that he could not do without him.

  A quiet unassuming man of around forty, Mr. Turner had an astute brain and a phenomenal memory.

  The whole working of Peverell Park and the Marquis’s other houses all rested on his shoulders.

  He was also, the Marquis often thought, as important to him as his eyes, his ears and certainly his legs.

  “You wanted me, my Lord?”

  Mr. Turner’s voice from the doorway was quiet and clear.

  “I need your help, Turner,” the Marquis said, “and you can guess what it is about.”

  Mr. Turner’s eyes twinkled.

  “I hear, my Lord, that Mr. Julius and Mr. Nigel were here for luncheon.”

  The Marquis sat back in his chair.

  “I am going to tell you first, Turner, what I overheard before I joined them.”

  He related exactly what Julius and Nigel had said and Mr. Turner listened attentively.

  When the Marquis had finished, he asked Mr. Turner,

  “I presume you are aware that Julius has been borrowing from usurers on the expectation of my not getting married?”

  “I did hear of it, my Lord,” Mr. Turner replied, “but I thought it unlikely, seeing that your Lordship is only just thirty-two, that he could obtain very much and it would be at such an outrageous rate of interest that it would hardly be worth his while.”

  “Anything would be worth Julius’s while if I had to pay the bill,” the Marquis pointed out.

  “I think your Lordship is extremely clever in frightening them as you have undoubtedly done,” Mr. Turner commented.

  “That is what I thought,” the Marquis said with satisfaction. “Equally, Turner, as you well know, I have to go a little further and make it very clear to them that any surplus money left after I have died will not go to them.”

  Mr. Turner hesitated for a moment before he said,

  “I would suppose, my Lord, you have not really contemplated matrimony?”

  “You know me well enough, Turner, to be aware that it is the last thing I will ever undertake again.”

  Mr. Turner did not reply and after a moment the Marquis said with a note of laughter in his voice,

  “All right, I know what you are thinking! Say it, if it gives you any pleasure.”

  “You know as well as I do, my Lord,” Mr. Turner said, “that sooner or later you will have to produce a son and heir. It would be a disaster for the whole family if Mr. Julius took your place.”

  “There we are in agreement,” the Marquis said loftily. “At the same time you have told me there is no real hurry and that is the lifeline I will cling to for as long as possible.”

  He laughed,

  “That gives us at least thirty years before I begin to be in my dotage. In the meantime Julius and Nigel will go on behaving as if I was King Midas!”

  “I do agree, my Lord, it is intolerable,” Mr. Turner said, “and what they have both cost you in the last two years is already in six figures.”

  “It definitely cannot continue,” the Marquis said, “and that is why, Turner, I intend to find myself a Ward.”

&
nbsp; “A Ward?” Mr. Turner exclaimed in a puzzled voice.

  “If I do not and will not, produce a wife to give me a son to inherit the bulk of the property and several sons and daughters to mop up the rest, then I must have a Ward!”

  Mr. Turner still looked puzzled and the Marquis explained,

  “Many men do have Wards. You have surely heard the story often enough of how, when Regency bucks indulged in a drunken Steeplechase, they made out wills leaving their wives, children and their mistresses for that matter, as Wards to their friends in case they were killed.”

  “I have certainly heard the story,” Mr. Turner agreed, “but I have not, my Lord, ever met anybody who was left with a Ward in such circumstances.”

  “But you must admit there is no reason why I should not have been left with one by a member of my Regiment or perhaps just a ‘Fair Charmer’, who wished to leave me a souvenir to remember her by!”

  The Marquis spoke with a twist to his lips.

  In his various love affairs, he had never yet, to his knowledge, fathered an illegitimate child.

  “Now I understand what your Lordship is talking about,” Mr. Turner was saying, “and I think it is a clever and ingenious idea. The difficulty will be in finding a Ward who will be presentable enough to make Mr. Julius and Mr. Nigel really believe that you will leave her such an enormous amount of money.”

  “It will not be as difficult as all that,” the Marquis said lightly.

  “Forgive me, my Lord,” Mr. Turner then interposed, “but it will have to be an orphan.”

  The Marquis raised his eyebrows.

  “Why?”

  “Because otherwise he or she, if you like, would be dependent on some member of their family.”

  “Yes, of course,” the Marquis agreed. “I did not think of that. Very well, Turner, an orphan, but where do we find her?”

  Mr. Turner was silent for a moment.

  Then he answered,

  “I suppose, my Lord, in an orphanage!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  When the Marquis wanted something, he wanted it at once.

  In fact it was an old joke that his servants and most of his friends always remarked,

  “His Lordship prefers whatever he requires to be delivered yesterday!”

  He therefore cancelled his arrangements to go to London and set off in his curricle to visit the orphanages on his estate.