171. The Marquis Wins (The Eternal Collection) Read online

  She felt the tears come into her eyes, but she fought to control them.

  She had cried the whole night after she had heard that her father was dead.

  Then she remembered how much he had disliked tears and scenes and, like all Englishmen, did everything he could to avoid them.

  ‘You – must help – me, Mama,’ she said in her heart to her mother. ‘I have no – wish to be – hysterical, which Papa – would have – disliked and I will – try to be brave, although it is – difficult.’

  When she had listened to her stepmother screaming furiously at Monsieur Descourt, she told herself that never would she be so vulgar or so over-emotional.

  At the same time, because she was alone and afraid of the future, it was difficult not to cry.

  At least she could try, and try hard, to be exactly as her father would want her to be.

  She left his bedroom and when she went downstairs she was aware that her stepmother had returned.

  To her surprise she was smiling and seemed very affable.

  “I am sorry to have left you, dearest child,” she said, “but there were certain people I had to see and on the way back I called in at Monsieur Descourt’s office to tell him how sorry I was to have been so rude.”

  She was silent for a moment before she added,

  “He remarked how fortunate you were to have been left what I understand is a large fortune, a lovely house and some very fine horses.”

  Daniela felt that this conversation was rather embarrassing, but her stepmother went on,

  “Of course, like me, you are on an allowance until you are married, but I am sure that it will not be very long before some charming, handsome young man steals your heart.”

  “I-I am in no – hurry,” Daniela said quickly.

  She was about to say that she hoped one day to find somebody she could love in the same way that her mother had loved her father.

  Then she realised that it would be tactless and merely added,

  “I shall be – living very quietly, of course, while I am in – mourning. ”

  It was then she remembered that she had only one black gown.

  “I suppose,” she said tentatively, “there would be no time to – buy any more black before we – leave tomorrow? I have only this one gown which the Mother Superior – bought for me and the coat that goes with it.”

  “It will be enough,” her stepmother said, “and I am sure that you will find plenty of beautiful gowns in Bond Street.”

  “Yes, of course,” Daniela agreed, thinking that if she was at home she would see no one.

  Doubtless she could wear one of her white gowns with a black sash until she had time to go shopping.

  “The Solicitors told me,” her stepmother was saying, “that they will be coming tomorrow at half-past-eight to collect the coffin and there will be a carriage for us to follow behind it to the Station. I am sure, dear child, as you have a long journey before you, you would be wise to have dinner in bed.”

  “In bed?” Daniela repeated in surprise.

  “I am so sorry to leave you again,” her stepmother went on, “but I have remembered that I am to have dinner with some old friends and I don’t like to disappoint them.”

  “No, of course not,” Daniela agreed.

  At the same time she felt it rather strange.

  She, however, went up to her bedroom and a maid who was French came to help her undress.

  “Will you please call me tomorrow morning at seven o’clock?” Daniela asked.

  She thought that she would get dressed quickly and pray once again beside her father’s coffin before they carried it to the hearse.

  The French maid promised that she would not be late and later a footman took Daniela’s dinner upstairs on a tray, which the maid brought into the bedroom.

  Daniela did not eat it in bed as she thought it would be uncomfortable.

  She sat instead on the side of the chaise longue and had the tray put on a small table beside her.

  She had found it difficult to eat the plain food at the Convent when she was so unhappy after learning of her father’s death.

  The dinner that she was offered tonight, however, was very different.

  She knew that her father had employed a good chef and she wondered if her stepmother would continue to live in this house.

  Perhaps she thought, it would be too expensive for her.

  However, she did not wish to think of the woman who had taken her mother’s place and thought instead about going home to England.

  How exciting it would be to see the horses she had always loved and the dogs that had followed her father everywhere he went.

  When she had finished her dinner, there was really nothing else she could do but climb into bed.

  It would be sensible, she reflected, to try to sleep well knowing that there was a long journey ahead of her.

  Moreover, when they arrived home, there would be the emotional upset of talking to so many relatives and friends, who had loved her father and would be distressed at his death.

  ‘I must be brave so that he is proud of me,’ Daniela thought.

  The maid who had taken away her tray then came back into her room.

  “Before her Ladyship left, m’mselle,” she said, “she asked me to make you a tisane which will help you to sleep.”

  “It’s very kind of her to think of it,” Daniela said, “but I want nothing.”

  “I know that her Ladyship would be very disappointed,” the maid said, “and this is a very nice tisane. In fact her Ladyship mixed it herself and I only had to add a little warm water to it.”

  As she started to pour out the tisane into a glass, she looked at Daniela and said pleadingly,

  “Please drink it, m’mselle, otherwise Madame will be angry with me for not looking after you properly.”

  Because it seemed churlish to refuse, Daniela drank the tisane and quickly fell asleep.

  *

  She paused as she came to this part of the narrative and the Marquis, who had been listening with an unflagging interest, asked,

  “What happened then?”

  “When I awoke, I found that it was – quite late in the next day,” Daniela replied, “and I was – very ill.”

  The Marquis stared at her.

  “You were ill?” he questioned. “Do you mean that the woman drugged you as she must have drugged your father?”

  “She not only drugged me,” Daniela said, “but I was so ill that there was no question of – my going to England.”

  “But she had gone with your father’s coffin?”

  “Yes, she left with the Solicitors, and for two days I was unable to think clearly. I felt so desperately ill that I insisted on seeing a doctor.”

  “And what did he say?” the Marquis enquired.

  “He could not diagnose exactly what was wrong with me, but he gave me some medicine which merely made me sleepy, so after two doses I did not take any more.”

  “How long was your stepmother away?”

  “She returned five days later and by that time I was just well enough to get out of bed and lie on the chaise longue.”

  “I can hardly believe it!” the Marquis exclaimed.

  “I could not believe it myself until she told me that she would not allow me to go back to England.”

  “How could she stop you?” the Marquis asked.

  “Very easily,” Daniela replied, “as I was never allowed to be – alone.”

  She saw that the Marquis was looking incredulous and she then explained,

  “Her lady’s maid, a strange unpleasant woman, who looked like a witch and had been with her for many years, was my jailor!”

  She drew in her breath before she continued,

  “Maria sat with me when I was alone, escorted me if I went for a walk and never left me unless my stepmother was with me.”

  “It seems incredible,” the Marquis murmured.

  “That is what I thought when I was well enough to
think clearly,” Daniela said.

  “But your relatives, surely they enquired about you?”

  “If they did I was not told about it and, when I wrote to them, I soon realised that my letters were not posted.”

  “Did you not try to see the Solicitor?” the Marquis queried.

  “I thought of it, but soon after she returned, my stepmother made it quite clear what she expected of me.”

  “And what was that?”

  “I was to keep her by spending what money I had and, of course, I could obtain what I asked for – from the Trustees.”

  Daniela was silent for a moment before she continued,

  “She dictated a letter I wrote to Mr. Meadowfield and I found it difficult to think of any way that I could escape from her – until I saw you! That was when I came here. But when we – arrived something – terrible happened!”

  “Tell me about it,” the Marquis said.

  “I am sure you find it – very hard to believe what I am – saying,” Daniela answered, “but I swear to you on – everything I hold – sacred that – every word I have – told you is the truth.”

  “I believe you,” the Marquis said, “but I have to hear the end of this extraordinary story.”

  “We stayed in Paris for a few weeks,” Daniela replied, “and for two of them I was not really well enough to do anything but what my stepmother told me to do. Then one day, when I came downstairs feeling better, though at the same time frightened, she said,”

  “‘I think we should leave Paris. There are too many people nosing about and showing interest in what is happening to you.’”

  “I felt a sudden hope that perhaps the people in England were asking about me.’

  ‘What I have decided we will do,’ my stepmother went on, ‘is to go to Baden-Baden’.”

  “I stared at her in astonishment and she said,”

  “‘It’s very amusing at this time of the year. I am sure that you will find some young people who will interest you and, of course, there will be the casino, the races and the theatre. These are things which I cannot take you to here’.”

  “I wondered if that was because I was in mourning or because she did not want me to be seen.”

  “Then she went on,”

  “‘Baden-Baden is a different world where visitors come from all over Europe. You and I will enjoy ourselves without being encumbered by the ghosts of the past.’

  “I knew that she was thinking about Papa, but I did not wish to be rude to her when she was being unexpectedly pleasant, so I said nothing.”

  “‘What we will do,’ she went on, ‘is forget everything we have endured and that includes being in mourning.’

  “I looked at her in surprise and she said,”

  “‘When the sun is shining, who wants to look like a drab crow? We will wear pretty gowns that will make men pay you compliments and bring a smile to your lips’.”

  “What she was saying was so surprising that I could only stare at her and she went on,”

  ‘“We are going to what for us will be a new world with new people, so you must forget for the moment that your name is Brooke and I shall no longer be your father’s wife’.”

  “‘What are you saying?’ I exclaimed. ‘It does not make sense to me!”

  “‘It does to me,’ my stepmother replied. ‘I intend to be the Comtesse de Bellevue, a name that I have always thought sounds very romantic’.”

  “I just looked at her and she said,”

  “‘Because you look so English you had better be English and the daughter of my first husband, who unfortunately died many years before I remarried. You can choose yourself any English name you like so long as it is not Brooke!’”

  “I found it hard to understand what she was saying but when I did I said, of course not! How could I be anything other than Papa’s daughter? And anyway I don’t want to go to Baden-Baden! As I have already told you, I want to go home’.”

  “‘And I have no intention of letting you do so!’ my stepmother said.”

  “It was the first time she had spoken so positively, but I had been so certain that she was determined to prevent me from returning to England that I had not raised the matter before.”

  Daniela closed her eyes. She could see her stepmother’s face all too clearly.

  She knew by the way she half-closed her eyes that she was thinking of something unpleasant – something that would frighten her.

  Because she was ashamed of herself for being afraid she said,

  “Now I am feeling better, Stepmama, I wish to go to England, to my home and to my relations, and I intend to leave tomorrow!”

  Lady Seabrooke threw back her head and laughed.

  “Do you really think that possible?” she asked.

  “Of course it is!” Daniela insisted. “Perhaps you will allow one of the housemaids to travel with me and I will, of course, send her back as soon as I reach my home and will pay her for her services.”

  “I have no doubt you would do that,” Lady Seabrooke said sarcastically, “but it just happens to be something I will not allow you to do!”

  “I don’t think you will be able to stop me,” Daniela said. “After all I am eighteen, and I have relations who will look after me as Papa would wish them to do.”

  “But I have already told you that you cannot see them and you cannot go to England,” Lady Seabrooke persisted.

  She spoke so positively that Daniela just stared at her wondering how she could reply.

  “I thought you were intelligent,” Lady Seabrooke said scathingly. “Surely you understand that as your father is dead I am now your Guardian and you must do as I say?”

  This was something that had never entered Daniela’s mind and for the moment she was speechless.

  Then, as she knew that her stepmother was looking at her mockingly, she said,

  “I do not think that legally is true!”

  “On the contrary,” Lady Seabrooke replied, “I have taken legal advice and I assure you that as your father is dead, I am your natural Guardian by both French and English law. You can only get rid of me, my dear little stepdaughter, when you marry.”

  There was something in the way she said the last words that made Daniela more frightened than she was already.

  It was as if her instinct told her that her stepmother was already plotting her marriage and that was why they were going to Baden-Baden.

  “I was frightened – very frightened,” she said to the Marquis, “but there was nothing I could do but obey her and come here.”

  “Was there nobody you could appeal to in Paris?” the Marquis asked. “What about the French Solicitor?”

  “I thought of him, of course, and also the Mother Superior,” Daniela replied. “But I was locked in my room at night and never allowed out of the house.”

  The Marquis gave an exclamation beneath his breath, but he did not interrupt and Daniela went on,

  “A dressmaker came to the house and my stepmother ordered an enormous amount of clothes, which I knew I would have to pay for. I refused firmly to have anything that was coloured and she compromised by letting me wear white, but I was not allowed a black sash or anything that suggested I was in mourning.”

  “‘White is quite correct for a young girl,’ she said airily. “She herself chose all the colours of the rainbow and gowns that seemed to me astronomically expensive.”

  Daniela looked at the Marquis pleadingly.

  “I know that it must seem ridiculous to you that I could not get anyone to help me. I did think of appealing to the dressmaker, but they all seemed to know my stepmother and I thought that she would merely say that I was hysterical or perhaps given to delusions! The only thing I could do was just to agree to what she wished.”

  “So you came here,” the Marquis observed.

  “We arrived and by that time, because it was hopeless to argue against anything she suggested, I called myself by my mother’s maiden name, which was Lyndon.”

 
; The Marquis frowned.

  “I have met your aunt, Lady Compton, and I am sure that she would be horrified to know of the position you are now in.”

  “I am certain that she would be, if there was any way I could communicate with her –”

  The Marquis did not speak and she went on,

  “My stepmother told me before we arrived here that there were few English people in Baden-Baden and, if she found me speaking to any of them, she would take me away and have me locked up in a lunatic asylum!”

  “I cannot believe it!” the Marquis said sharply.

  “It is true! But then she has had a better – idea and one which will benefit herself – enormously.”

  “And what is that?”

  “That I should be – married! My money will then be in the hands of my – husband, whom she will – choose and – control!”

  Chapter Three

  The horror in Daniela’s voice was very evident and after a moment the Marquis commented quietly,

  “At least that is something you can refuse to do.”

  “How can – I be – certain?” she asked. “After all Papa was – married and had – no idea it had – happened until he – woke up next morning to find that she was – his wife!”

  That was something the Marquis had momentarily forgotten.

  He realised that, if Esmé Blanc, and it was difficult to think of her by any other name, had pulled the trick off once she might certainly try to do so again.

  Because it all seemed so incredible, after several seconds of silence he asked,

  “Can you be absolutely sure that this is her intention?”

  “I thought when we – first came to – Baden-Baden that is what my stepmother – intended,” Daniela replied, “and like you I thought that it would be easy to say – ‘no’ to any man who – proposed to me. Then last night I – overheard – something that has made me – even more afraid.”

  “What was that?” the Marquis enquired.

  Daniela explained to him that they were staying in an expensive suite at the Stephanie Hotel.

  As she would be paying, her stepmother had insisted on the very best that was available and they were on the first floor.