A Circus for Love Read online

  “I am prepared to eat anything as long as I am not too long about it,” Thelma smiled.

  A mile or so further on they came to a picturesque black-and-white inn standing at the side of a pretty village green called The Dog and Duck.

  As there was a large pond nearby with several ducks on it, Thelma thought that it was aptly named.

  They rode into the yard at the back of the inn where, as they had expected, there were stables.

  Thelma dismounted and Wilkins took Dragonfly’s bridle from her.

  As he did so, he said,

  “I thinks, Miss Thelma, it’d be best if you sat outside in the sun or they’ll be askin’ a lot of questions.”

  Thelma reckoned that this was sound advice from Wilkins.

  She therefore sat on a wooden bench that looked onto the green and had a table in front of it.

  She imagined that in the evening it was where the villagers sat and drank after their day’s work was over. Now there was nobody there except herself.

  Wilkins brought out her luncheon, which was just a small cottage loaf of freshly baked bread, a pat of butter and a large piece of cheese.

  She could dig into it with a spoon for the amount she wanted.

  A jar of pickles came with it. Wilkins explained that they were made by the innkeeper’s wife.

  Because she was hungry, Thelma found that the fresh bread and cheese were delicious.

  When she and Wilkins set off again she found that it had cost only a few pence.

  They had ridden on for quite a way before Wilkins said,

  “I’ve bin thinkin’, Miss Thelma, that if you’re in ’idin’, you should change your name.”

  Thelma looked at him in surprise before she responded,

  “Of course! You are right. It is something that I should have thought of myself.”

  “I did not think of it till the innkeeper asked me who you were,” Wilkins went on.

  “And what did you tell him?” Thelma enquired.

  “I said as ’ow I was takin’ you in an ’urry to join your ’usband as ’as bin took ill.”

  Thelma’s eyes widened and then she laughed.

  “Whatever made you say that?”

  “It wouldn’t seem right,” Wilkins explained slowly, “for a young Lady of Quality to be travellin’ about the countryside with no one to look after ’er but an old groom!”

  Thelma thought this over and realised that Wilkins was speaking sensibly.

  Of course as a young girl she should have a chaperone with her. As she was so used to riding about her father’s estate alone that she had not realised that in the world outside people would think it strange.

  “It was very quick of you to think of an answer like that,” she said, “and so I think it is something we might stick to in the future. Now what shall I call myself?”

  She thought as she spoke that it should obviously not be very close to her own name. Anyway it was an amusing idea to change her identity.

  They were riding across-country and avoiding the roads. It came to her mind that she might be ‘Mrs. Field’, ‘Mrs. Meadows’ or ‘Mrs. Wood’.

  They all sounded rather dull and uninteresting and she was quite sure that she could think of something more exciting.

  Then they came to a stream, having pulled in their horses, and Wilkins suggested,

  “It be quite shallow, miss, and I thinks we can ford it.” Thelma gave an exclamation.

  “Now that is what I will call myself – ‘Mrs. Forde’ with an ‘E’”

  Wilkins grinned and she went on,

  “That is exactly what we are doing now, Wilkins. Crossing a ford from one world into another.”

  She thought that Wilkins would not follow what she was saying, but he remarked,

  “That’s what I’ll call you, Miss Thelma, from now on ‘Mrs. Forde’, and we’re on our way to where your ’usband be a-waitin’ for you.”

  Thelma laughed.

  “Having forded the stream, we are riding on towards the distant hills,” she said.

  As she did not want to tire the horses, they stopped late in the afternoon at another inn.

  It was in an isolated part of the country that was very picturesque.

  Thelma was sure that even if they were surprised at her appearance and talked about it, there would be no one interested enough to listen.

  The inn seemed quiet and small and at first she was half-afraid it could not accommodate them.

  She sent Wilkins to enquire if they could stay the night.

  When he came back, he reported to Thelma that the place seemed to be clean and the stables adequate and the innkeeper’s wife had hurried upstairs to put clean sheets on the beds.

  Thelma therefore helped Wilkins to put the horses in the stables.

  After being unsaddled, they enjoyed a good meal which they had brought with them.

  Thelma recognised as she next groomed Dragonfly that it was an inexpressible comfort to have with her a horse that she loved.

  Then she patted Dragonfly and went into the inn.

  It was a very small inn with low beamed ceilings and the only occupant of the bar was a very old man who was practically blind.

  The innkeeper was obviously overcome with her appearance.

  “’Tis a great honour, my Lady,” he said, “to ’ave you with us. I only ’opes we can make you real comfortable.”

  “I am sure I shall be,” Thelma smiled, “but I confess to feeling very hungry.”

  She then walked up the narrow rickety stairs to find her bedroom. It was very sparsely furnished.

  But it was very clean and she saw that there was a goose-feather mattress that she knew would be perfect for a good night’s sleep.

  She took off her riding hat and jacket to wash in cold water.

  Wilkins had arranged with the innkeeper for them to use the Private Parlour, which was again very small and, Thelma suspected, seldom used.

  She ate a simple meal without being watched by strangers and she was glad not to have to talk to anybody.

  When she had finished a simple meal, she then opened the letter that had come from her great-aunt’s Solicitors.

  She had also brought downstairs with her the writing paper and envelopes she had taken from The Manor.

  She had been thinking while she was riding that she must make sure that her money was completely intact when she came to claim it.

  She was not quite certain how she could do so.

  The letter from the Solicitors was quite straightforward.

  They had written to inform her father that they had had the honour of acting for the late Dowager Duchess of Winterton and they enclosed a copy of her Will.

  As Thelma read the next three pages her eyes widened as she realised that she was now not rich but very rich indeed!

  Her great-aunt had left her monies amounting to nearly two hundred thousand pounds.

  Also jewellery, pictures and furniture that were at present in the house where she had lived on the Duke’s estate in Huntingdonshire.

  There followed an inventory of the most important and valuable items.

  All of which Thelma knew she was thrilled to own and which she would always treasure for the rest of her life.

  The letter finished up with a request for her father, as her Guardian, to give the firm his instructions as soon as possible.

  Because it was all so unexpected and overwhelming, Thelma read the letter through for a second time.

  Then after some deliberation she made up her mind.

  She asked the innkeeper’s wife if she could have a bottle of ink and a pen.

  This took some time before it was forthcoming and, when it was on the table in front of her, Thelma wrote carefully,

  “To, Messrs.

  Marlow, Thestlethwaite and Downing.”

  She thanked them for their letter and continued,

  “My daughter, Thelma, who is heir to all the monies and the items you have described to me as being in my aunt’
s Will is now away from home.

  I, myself, am in ill-health and cannot receive you. I therefore instruct you on behalf of my daughter to continue to administer the funds as you have done hitherto and to keep the other properties safely until such time as my daughter is in touch with you.

  On no account should anyone else have any access to anything that belongs to her or to make any decisions or requests on her behalf.

  Only when she does comes to see you personally, which she most certainly will as soon as it is possible, can her own decisions about her new acquisitions be made.

  As her father and her Guardian, I hereby permit her to make up her own mind on any questions appertaining to her new property without interference from any other persons.

  Yours truly,

  Fernhurst.”

  Thelma signed her father’s name as she had done so often in the past.

  She did it so skilfully that she knew it would be impossible for anyone to contend that it had not been signed by him.

  In his present state she suspected that he would not be able to remember whether he had signed the letter or not.

  She put the letter into an envelope and addressed it to the Solicitors. Before she went up to bed, she asked the innkeeper to make sure that it was posted the following morning.

  He assured her that it would be.

  She expected to lie awake worrying about herself and her future, but the goose-feather mattress was so comfortable that she fell into a deep sleep almost at once.

  *

  Thelma awoke to the sound of a cockerel crowing outside.

  And she could hear the innkeeper and his wife stirring below.

  After a large breakfast of very excellent bacon and ham she helped Wilkins to saddle the horses and they set off once again.

  When they were some way from the village, Wilkins asked her,

  “’Ave you any idea, Miss Thelma, where we be a-goin’?”

  “None at all!” Thelma answered. “I thought that the first step was to get as far away from The Manor as quickly as we could just in case her Ladyship or Sir Richard searched for us.”

  “We’d best be very careful they don’t find us,” Wilkins said laconically.

  Thelma was quite certain that he disliked her stepmother, as did the other servants.

  She knew that they had been so happy at The Manor when they had adored her mother.

  She thought she would never forget their white, tearful faces at her mother’s funeral or the way for a long time when they spoke about her it was in choked voices.

  She knew too that they were shocked at the way her stepmother was behaving with Sir Richard Leith.

  At the same time Thelma was sensible enough to realise that she could not stay away from home for ever.

  After writing the letter last night, she thought perhaps in several months’ time she might find an older member of her family, preferably a man, who would then support her against her stepmother.

  Perhaps her father would miss her when she did not come back and so would make some effort to pull himself together.

  It was all rather vague and it was impossible to make any sort of plans too far ahead.

  All she was acutely aware of was that her stepmother would try by every means in her power to grab hold of her money.

  If she was at home, she would most certainly be forced into marriage with Sir Richard.

  If she refused, Denise would try other ways of gaining control of two hundred thousand pounds.

  It was frightening to think about.

  ‘She might even end by murdering me!’ Thelma told herself.

  She shivered, knowing that it was an actual possibility.

  ‘The only thing I can be certain of,’ she went on in her mind, ‘is that I must stay away from home until I can find some means of revealing where I am without being intimidated.’

  For the moment that seemed quite impossible.

  She therefore tried to concentrate on where she should go.

  She reckoned that by this time they were nearing the coast and might be, she thought, in East Sussex.

  She so wished she had a map, but it was something that she had not thought of bringing with her.

  They therefore rode on and on.

  At luncheontime Wilkins again found a wayside inn, but this one was not as pleasant as those that they had encountered before.

  There were a number of men in the bar, who peered through the windows at Thelma.

  They made comments that she could not hear, but which evoked roars of laughter.

  Once again she had bread and cheese to eat.

  But the cottage loaf was stale, the butter rancid, while the cheese was inferior.

  They moved on as quickly as they could and Wilkins was angry, not only about the food but the dirt in the stables.

  “We’ll be more careful, Miss Thelma, where us goes another time.”

  Thelma agreed with him.

  All the same she was afraid of going to the better class Posting inns on the main roads.

  She knew her appearance would cause a great deal of comment, as would the superiority of their horses.

  She knew too that should someone notice her they might inadvertently be the cause of her Stepmother’s learning where she was.

  Then she would be lost.

  ‘But I cannot go on like this forever!’ she felt despairingly.

  As they passed through a wood in the shadow of the trees as a relief from the heat of the sun, she saw on the other side of the ride a magnificent-looking house.

  In fact with a wood of tall trees behind it, it looked like a jewel in a velvet setting.

  Thelma drew in her horse to stare at it and Wilkins did the same.

  “I wonder who lives there?” she asked.

  He did not answer and after a moment Thelma suggested,

  “Let us go and look at it more closely. It is the sort of mansion I have always wanted to see.”

  She remembered how the girls at school had boasted of the houses and Castles in which their parents lived.

  On one occasion she had stayed at Warwick Castle, which had thrilled and delighted her.

  The history of it, the Greystone towers and the rooms where Kings and Queens had been entertained, was breath-taking.

  Another time a friend had taken her to Longleat, where the Thynne family had lived for generations.

  To Thelma it was the Fairy Palace of all her dreams and she had thought about it so often and wished that she would be able to go there again at some time in the future

  Now she was determined to see the house that lay ahead of her.

  She and Wilkins rode down into the valley where there was a small village.

  The cottages were thatched and their gardens bright with spring flowers.

  At the end of the village she saw what she knew was the entrance to the owner’s house.

  Large wrought-iron gates, tipped with gold, had on either side identical stone lodges.

  The gates were open and, without really meaning to, Thelma rode through them.

  As she had already expected there was a long drive flanked by ancient oak trees.

  Wilkins glanced at her as if he was asking a question.

  “I just want to look a little closer,” Thelma said. “If anybody challenges us we can ask them who lives here and clame that we have inadvertently come to the wrong house.”

  She laughed and Wilkins grinned as they rode on.

  When they were still some distance from the house, Thelma gave an exclamation.

  Immediately to their left that they had not noticed before because of the trees, there was a huge tent.

  There was also a number of strange-looking vehicles standing round it, which looked as if they could house animals.

  “It is a circus!” she exclaimed. “How exciting!”

  For the moment she forgot the house and rode towards the tent.

  It was a large one and before she reached it, she saw coming from the opening of
the tent a man holding a tiger on a lead.

  It was so surprising and so unexpected that Thelma drew in Dragonfly and then stopped to watch.

  It was large and, she thought, a fairly old tiger.

  The man took it to one of the vehicles, which she could now see was a cage.

  The tiger sprang into it without any persuasion and the man, having taken off its lead, closed the door and bolted it.

  Because she was so intrigued, Thelma moved a little closer.

  Now she could easily see that there were six cages containing lions, leopards, cheetahs and half-a-dozen monkeys.

  She was feeling so interested that she dismounted from Dragonfly and, as Wilkins took her bridle, she walked first to the lions’ cage.

  There were two magnificent beasts.

  From the look of them she thought that they were well-fed and in excellent health.

  She stood there for some minutes and was just going to move to another cage when she heard a sound from inside the Big Top.

  Because she was so curious, she walked in.

  It was exactly as she might have expected with seats rising all round it for the spectators to sit on.

  In the ring a young horse was bucking and rearing up.

  A man, who was very obviously a groom or perhaps even a performer, was holding him by the bridle, while another man was watching and he was obviously amused at the contest.

  With a final buck the horse won.

  He pulled the reins out of the groom’s hand and, still bucking, galloped out of the back of the tent.

  The groom ran after him while the other man laughed, a spontaneous sound that made Thelma laugh too.

  It was then that the man in the centre of the tent saw her.

  For a moment he just stared at her and then he walked in her direction.

  As he did so, she became aware that he was a gentleman.

  He was also extremely handsome, tall with broad shoulders and she thought about thirty years of age.

  He was not wearing a hat and his dark hair was swept back from a square forehead.

  He was wearing riding breeches with only a shirt and a cravat round his neck, which was tied carelessly, as if he was obviously not particularly interested in his appearance.

  When he reached her, he said,

  “Good afternoon. If you have come to see a performance, I am afraid you are too early. It does not take place until tomorrow.”