The Triumph of Love Read online

  Then she thought they would think it very strange to be staying without being aware of the name of her host.

  ‘I expect he’ll tell me when I come downstairs for dinner,’ she told herself. ‘I wonder if I should tell him who I really am or whether it would be wiser to be anonymous?’

  She was still worrying over this question when she dressed herself in one of her prettiest evening gowns.

  She never imagined she would be wearing it under such odd circumstances, but she was determined to enjoy her adventure to the full.

  After all when there would be another one?

  There was a knock on her door and it was a maid.

  “If you will please follow me, miss”

  She led Selina down the huge stairway, which was of a very attractive pale grey stone and into the front hall. Now she had more time to look about her, she saw that the hall had a military nature. Many weapons were arranged in patterns on the walls and suits of armour stood in corners.

  There was a baffling myriad of corridors, too many to remember and then the maid opened up a pair of double doors and ushered Selina into the drawing room.

  For a moment she stood in awe and gazed at all the luxury and beauty. The gilt decorated ceiling was divided into semicircular compartments, each of which contained a painting of some mythical scene.

  The gilt motif was continued on the walls that were covered in cream and gold panels interspersed with large mirrors.

  There were two huge fireplaces of Italian marble, and beside one stood a gentleman elegantly dressed in his evening clothes.

  His snowy shirt was ruffled and embroidered and at his throat flashed a diamond tiepin.

  “I am sorry,” said Selina quickly. “I thought – oh, goodness! It’s you!”

  “A very good evening to you too,” he began, smiling at her. “Yes, indeed it’s me. Allow me to introduce myself. The Marquis of Castleton at your service, ma’am.”

  “Oh, how silly of me not to have realised,” Selina exclaimed. “It’s just that – ”

  “Just that I looked like one of my own workmen? It was wrong of me to tease you. I do apologise.”

  “There is no need,” she smiled.

  “Do you like my house?”

  “Yes, it is so beautiful. I remember reading about it somewhere as one of the oldest and most magnificent houses in England. From what I have seen so far that is certainly true. Please do promise me that before I leave I may see much more of it?”

  “You will see exactly what you want to,” the Marquis promised. “At the same time, you know my name, but I’m still waiting to hear who you are!”

  She hesitated.

  “Trust me,” added the Marquis, reading her face.

  “I promised myself when I ran away – that I would never tell anyone who I am – just in case they told – him where I was. He would find me – and take me back.”

  She spoke very hesitatingly and the Marquis paused before he assured her,

  “I swear on the Bible, if necessary, that I will never tell anyone who you are. I also promise I will try to protect you from anything dangerous or unpleasant.”

  Selina gave a deep sigh.

  “Thank you, thank you, my Lord,” she whispered. “I’ve been so frightened – and I’ve been praying all the way here that no one would find out that I had run away until I was really safe.”

  “You are safe here for the time being. I will keep your identity a secret for as long as you want me to.”

  “And you won’t make me go back?

  “My word on it. Please tell me who you are.”

  “My father was Lord Napier, but he and my mother are both dead.”

  “I have heard of your father’s name from my own father. I think they were at school together.”

  “My father was at Eton and Oxford.”

  “Then I am right. That was where my father went. He often talked of the friends he knew at school. I knew I had heard the name before.

  “I am proud and delighted to entertain his daughter, and even more glad to think that I saved her, tonight at any rate, from some uncomfortable village inn!”

  “I’ve been thinking that ever since I arrived here,” Selina replied. “In fact, my Lord – ”

  “Please,” he interrupted her, “my name is Ian.”

  “And I am Selina.”

  “Selina suits you,” the Marquis told her gravely. “It is original and unusual, both of which you are.”

  “I am only glad that you are not shocked, as many would be, because I am running away and hiding from my stepfather.”

  “No, I am not shocked. I am certain that you believe you had good reason for your decision. Now, let us enjoy a glass of champagne before dinner and drink each other’s health. Having saved you from one disaster, I hope I am able to do so again in the future!”

  “Thank you very much,” she said fervently. “I was so terrified when I saw those highwaymen, because if they had robbed me, I would have had to return back home and I would rather die.”

  The Marquis put a glass of champagne in her hand.

  “Don’t think about it. What we have to decide now is what you will do in the future. You must not take such risks again as you took today. I am horrified at the thought of you alone with no one to protect you from danger.”

  The door opened and the butler announced,

  “Dinner is served, my Lord.”

  Selina drank a little of the champagne and then the Marquis held out his hand.

  “Come along now, we both deserve a good dinner. When we have eaten, the future will seem brighter.”

  “I hope you are right,” replied Selina.

  She took his arm and they walked through the door and down the passage to the dining room.

  This was even more impressive than the drawing room. There was a long polished table and the candlesticks surrounding a bowl of fruit were exquisite, echoed by those on the mantelpiece and side tables.

  There were pictures on the walls, which she knew had been painted by famous French artists.

  The Marquis seated himself at the top of the table and she sat on his right.

  The food was delicious and so was the wine.

  They were served in great state by the butler with the assistance of two footmen in livery and powdered wigs. Once a course had been served the butler left the room, but the footmen went to stand by the walls.

  As though conscious of their presence, the Marquis lowered his voice to talk of a visit he had recently made to Europe.

  He described, to Selina’s great delight, some of the pictures he had seen in the Louvre and the horses he had admired in the Bois de Boulogne at the races.

  “How I envy you your travels.”

  “You have never travelled?”

  “When Papa was alive we were too poor, but once my stepfather took my mother and me across to Le Havre for a few days. He is a shipbuilder, so Le Havre was of great interest to him. Mama and I would have liked to see Paris, but after a few days in Le Havre we came home.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at the footmen.

  “Yes, I can find them oppressive sometimes,” the Marquis remarked with his quiet kind smile.

  She considered that everything about him was quiet and kind. He smiled, but he did not laugh and gravity was evidently natural to him.

  She tried to guess at his age, but could only decide that he was in his late thirties.

  ‘Almost old enough to be my father,’ she pondered from the standpoint of nineteen. ‘Well – an uncle anyway.’

  At any rate it made it acceptable for her to be here alone with him.

  His face was handsome and might have been very striking if it had been livelier. But an air of melancholy seemed rather natural to him. Even his smiles had a touch of gravity.

  “If you find them oppressive, why don’t you send them away?” she enquired. “You are the Master.”

  “Am I? At times I feel more like a slave – a slave to this house and
its traditions, a slave to my title and all that it entails, and a slave to the generations of my family, who sometimes still seem to be present, silently telling me what they require of me.

  “Those footmen stood like that in my father’s day, and my grandfather’s day!”

  Selina lowered her voice and added dramatically,

  “They’re probably the very same footmen!”

  He gave a faint choke of laughter and regarded her with appreciation.

  “What a thought, but I don’t think they can be! I’ll swear they actually move from time to time. A little more wine?”

  “Thank you, just a very little.”

  He reached for the decanter, but instantly a footman glided forward to perform the service for him.

  “You see?” he said, when the footman had retreated to the wall. “I am not allowed to do anything.”

  He checked himself suddenly.

  “Listen, Selina, it’s unforgivable of me to make fun of them. They are all good fellows and I know each one of them individually.

  “I even know the names of all their children, which rather shocks the old guard, I am afraid. I am supposed to rise loftily above such knowledge, but I cannot do it.”

  “Good for you,” Selina came in at once. “I believe it’s nice to be friends with your servants.”

  “Friends?” he echoed with mock horror. “What are you thinking of? The Heavens would fall!”

  “But you could assert yourself,” suggested Selina.

  He thought about her remark for a moment.

  “I’m not really a very assertive person,” he said at last, almost apologetically. “In an emergency I daresay I could be as decisive as any other man. But in this house, weighed down by all its traditions – well, I know my place, and it isn’t a comfortable place.

  “The merest kitchen maid can turn me to jelly by saying, ‘that is how it was done in the old days, my Lord.’ They add in the ‘my Lord’ just to give me the illusion of authority. And I say, ‘Oh, was it?’ And then creep away!”

  “Now you’re making fun of me,” protested Selina.

  “No, of myself. Perhaps I am exaggerating, but not by much.”

  “But you are the Marquis.”

  “And Marquises are meant to be assertive, I know. But you see, I wasn’t meant to be the Marquis. I had an older brother, Jack, who would have been ideal. He was a big strong strapping fellow.

  “I was rather puny when I was born and they didn’t expect me to survive long, which was useful because I was allowed to go my own way. Jack was the roisterer – I was the scholar. He and I were very close, although we were so different.

  “He took my side when I said I wanted to go into the Church. Our father was horrified. He thought I would end up as a curate in a remote country parish, which was exactly what would have suited me best. But when I tried to explain this to Papa, Jack muttered, ‘shut up and leave this to me’.”

  “What did he do?” Selina asked, much entertained.

  “He told my father grandiose tales about how the family influence could raise me in the Church. According to him I would be Archbishop of Canterbury in no time.

  “I did have qualms of conscience about feeding him such fairy tales, but Jack grabbed me and hissed, ‘do you really want to be ordained or don’t you?’ And I did, so I swallowed my conscience, thanked my father before he could change his mind and entered Theological College.”

  A look of inexpressible sadness came over his face.

  “What happened?” asked Selina.

  “In the middle of my first term I was summoned home because Jack was dying. Galloping consumption. He had been coughing for some time but ignored it. When he went to a doctor it was too late. It swept through him. I arrived in time to spend an hour with him.”

  “Oh no,” she whispered. “And he was your dearest friend, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes he was. My very dearest and only true friend. I have never been as close to another human being as I was to Jack and I never expect to be.

  “On his death bed he said, ‘sorry, old boy. It’s all going to fall on to you now. Dreadful thing to do to you.’

  Then the family came in and we all said goodbye. His very last word was for me. He gave my hand a faint squeeze, and murmured, ‘sorry,’ again. Then he died.”

  He was silent a long time after that story.

  Hardly knowing what she was doing Selina reached out her hand and touched his. He reacted at once, closing his fingers over it and holding tightly.

  “His death was the end of everything. It killed my parents. They both followed him in a year and here was I, on my own, in this great echoing mausoleum, cut off from the life I love, doing a job I am not equipped for.”

  Suddenly he seemed to notice their clasped hands and disengaged himself quickly, saying to the butler who had appeared again,

  “By the way, Newton, send someone to ensure that the gate into the orchard is locked. Those silly boys who think they are highwaymen opened it again today.”

  “Your servants must think it very strange you being friends with the highwaymen,” Selina remarked when the butler had bowed and left.

  “They are used to me being friends with all sorts of strange people,” replied the Marquis. “They disapprove, but they put it down to ‘Lordly eccentricity’.

  “Actually the highwaymen are somewhat special as their parents were employed on the estate. Although they are behaving badly, I feel I have to look after them and if nothing else prevent them from going to prison.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but I always thought that highwaymen were very dangerous. I read some time ago that two of them were shot and killed while trying to hold up a mail carriage.”

  “I remember that story. Apparently they were shot as soon as they appeared which I think is shocking. They should have been threatened first, so that they could realise the danger and have second thoughts.”

  Selina nodded.

  “I hate to think of a man being killed unnecessarily. That’s why wars are so frightening. To all of us, whether we are rich or poor, life is precious.”

  The Marquis smiled at her.

  “That is something I have often thought myself, but I didn’t expect to hear a woman say it.”

  “I think that women are more afraid of battles and people being killed than men. They’re denied the relief of action and remain at home to pray for their loved ones.”

  “Yes, I think you are right,” he concurred, speaking with his usual gravity.

  When at last they were alone in the drawing room and seated on a sofa, the Marquis asked her,

  “Now we are alone and no one is listening, tell me about yourself and what was so dreadful that a young lady like you felt that she had to take such terrible risks.”

  “Because there was nothing else I could do.”

  “Are you quite sure?”

  “Absolutely sure,” replied Selina. “And as I don’t want you to feel burdened with my difficulties, it might be best for me to say nothing.”

  “Best for whom? Certainly not best for you. I will help you in every way possible, but I simply cannot allow you to leave here and go out alone into a world of which you know nothing. In fact, if you don’t tell me everything, I shall not permit you to leave!”

  “Not permit me?” she demanded, indignantly. “Am I your prisoner then?”

  “If necessary. I don’t want to have your fate on my conscience.”

  “What I do is entirely my decision!”

  “Not entirely. I know far more of the world than you and I’ll keep you here by any means necessary until I am assured of your safety.”

  “Then you are worse than my stepfather. He would have imprisoned me if I had not run away first.”

  “I am beginning to have some sympathy with him!”

  “How can you say that? He is a wicked, monstrous man.”

  Selina felt so upset that she jumped up and began to stride about the room, almost in tears. At once th
e Marquis rose and followed her, full of contrition.

  “Selina, please forgive me. I had no right to speak to you like that. Listen to me, please – ”

  He managed to make her stop and held her hands.

  “It is unforgivable of me to upset you, when you’ve been so much upset already. But after all – ” he gave her a wry self-mocking smile, “it was you who had said I should assert myself.”

  “I didn’t mean against me,” she moaned.

  “I know. I did warn you that I did it badly. Please don’t cry.”

  “I’m not crying,” she asserted fiercely. “What do you think I am, a crybaby?”

  “No, I think you are a very brave young woman and I only want to help you. If you would only – ”

  He broke off sharply as the door opened and the butler entered.

  “Excuse me, my Lord, this letter’s been delivered at the front door with instructions that I was to give it to your Lordship immediately.”

  As he spoke, he held out a silver salver on which lay a letter.

  The Marquis took it and examined it, frowning.

  “How did this get here?” he asked.

  “A groom brought it on horseback, my Lord.”

  “Tell him to take his horse to the stables and give him a bed for the night.”

  “Very good, my Lord.”

  The butler closed the door and the Marquis, holding the letter walked to the window. Selina saw him open the envelope.

  He read the letter and then read it again. Selina, watching, thought that the contents disturbed him. At last he came back and sat down beside her.

  She thought he looked rather grave, but did not like to ask him any questions.

  “Now we will continue,” he said. “You must listen to me. You really cannot go on alone. You may be lucky, but you may not. It will not only be highwaymen you have to battle against, but other men too. Men who will be struck by your beauty; men who will perhaps frighten you and there will be no one to turn to for help.”

  “Then I must now tell you why I have run away and perhaps then you will understand. I told you that I would rather die than go back and I mean it.”

  “You must not say such terrible things. After all you are very beautiful, very young and the world is at your feet.”