A Shooting Star Read online

  “We have sacrificed one hundred thousand picked soldiers and ten millions of money for nothing.”

  Now she began to see that her father wanted no opposition to himself and Lord Carlsby at Windsor Castle and they needed to nip any likely challenger in the bud.

  When Flavia retired to her bedroom that night, she read through the list of people who had been invited to what was called ‘her’ dinner party.

  She was now well aware that it was just a clever way of removing the Earl of Haugton from Windsor Castle and preventing him from taking Lord Linwood’s and Lord Carlsby’s place beside the Queen.

  ‘It’s still ‘wheels within wheels’,’ she thought, ‘and I am just a pawn in their hands.’

  She could easily understand, having overheard the secret conversation between the two older men what they were up to.

  If the Earl of Haugton would become a friend and a confidant of the Prince of Wales, the Queen would no longer believe in him.

  Better still, if he was married and far away on his honeymoon, he would not be in a position to continue his nefarious influence on Her Majesty.

  It was a clever and well thought out plan.

  Flavia’s father had told her,

  “It’s just a small private party, but I have engaged a band to play in the ballroom and there will be card tables for those who prefer gambling to dancing.”

  “But Papa, how many people do you expect?” she had enquired.

  “I think we will be thirty for dinner and perhaps the same number will come in when dinner is over.”

  Flavia was silent – and for the moment, she was too astonished to think clearly.

  Her father had always intended to give her a ball and luncheon parties so that she could make new friends.

  She recognised now, however, that he must be very anxious with regard to his own position at Windsor Castle to have arranged it all so hastily.

  She had expected to take everything slowly – to go to only a few parties to start with, then gradually increase them to include everything by the end of the Season.

  Now, she was actually starting with the Prince of Wales coming to Linwood House to dine, accompanied by the beautiful Mrs. Langtry.

  She was slipping into the Social world from the top.

  It was exciting – it was thrilling.

  But at the same time Flavia was desperately afraid.

  Her father might succeed in marrying her off to the Earl of Haugton almost before she had even had a glimpse of the Beau Monde.

  It was just by chance and a very lucky one, that she had overheard the two courtiers’ plan.

  She had no intention, whatever they might say, of marrying a man she did not love and who did not love her.

  She was only too well aware that she was crossing a very dangerous bridge.

  One slip and she would be submerged in the water beneath, which was, of course, marriage to the man they were planning to marry her off to.

  Now she thought about it, she remembered she had read his name quite often in the Social columns amongst those who had been present at some function or who were guests at a ball or a concert.

  Her father seemed to have convinced himself that she would most conveniently fall in love with the Earl of Haugton, but she could only feel that he was behaving in a strange and unfeeling way towards her.

  She was quite certain that she would find it difficult to prevent him achieving all he had set out to do.

  She looked back to the days when she had heard her aunts and her father’s friends talking about Social life in London. She had not been that interested except when they talked about the racing at Ascot or the parties that had taken place at Marlborough House.

  Now that she was part of it, she realised it was all of great significance and there were endless manoeuverings behind every event – and behind every thought and word.

  How could she have imagined for a single moment that her father and Lord Carlsby would use her to be rid of a young man who was being a nuisance to them at Windsor Castle?

  A man they felt was undermining their authority with the Queen.

  But that was not a matter she should be involved in.

  She also realised that while they wished to capture the Earl for her, they believed that he would be delighted to be invited to a party attended by the Prince of Wales.

  Looking back, Flavia could recall her father talking to her mother about Lord Carlsby, telling her how vital it was that he should be at Windsor Castle to support him in his advice to the Queen on both home and foreign affairs.

  This had been nearly ten years ago when Benjamin Disraeli had become Prime Minister for the first time, but had been forced to resign after only a few months and Mr. Gladstone had taken his place.

  Flavia fully realised that the Queen did not like Mr. Gladstone and was continually fighting with him over the country’s foreign policy.

  Lords Linwood and Carlsby had then clung even more desperately to their position as her advisers.

  Flavia had heard her father say that on one occasion when Russia’s policy became aggressive, Queen Victoria had become hysterical and had even threatened to abdicate.

  “If England is about to kiss Russia’s feet,” she had written to Disraeli, now again Prime minister, who had shown her letter to Lord Linwood, “the Queen will not be a party to the humiliation of England and will lay down the Crown.”

  In another letter Her Majesty had said,

  “Oh! If the Queen were only a man, she would give those horrid Russians, whose word one cannot trust, such a beating!”

  Flavia had been interested and yet she did not ask her father many questions because her mother said it bored him, as he had quite enough questions to answer when he was on duty and at home he wanted to relax.

  Now when it all flooded back into Flavia’s mind, she could understand her father’s feelings.

  Just how could he possibly allow this young Earl, because he was so good-looking, to influence he Queen on matters he considered of great national importance.

  ‘At the same time,’ she told herself firmly, ‘I have no intention of marrying this Earl of Haugton. If they cannot be rid of him except by using me as a pawn in their hands, they will just have to put up with him!’

  The whole situation was so unexpected for Flavia and so horrifying that it was impossible for her to sleep.

  *

  Flavia climbed out of bed and walked across to the window to draw back the curtains.

  In the country she would have looked out onto the garden with the moonlight turning everything to silver – it made the huge fountain in the centre of the lawn seem to be throwing hearts of gold up towards the sky.

  Now she was looking out on Grosvenor Square.

  The trees seemed insignificant and the statue too was unimpressive.

  Nevertheless this was London.

  This was where things really happened and she was willy-nilly part of them.

  ‘I have to be clever, very clever,’ she told herself, ‘but at least Papa does not know that I am aware of his intention. Equally it is very frightening and something I could never have expected when I left home.’

  For a moment she felt an urge to run away.

  To be back in the quietness and the peace of The Priory and to ride alone over the fields and into the woods inhabited by the goblins and fairies of her imagination.

  Then she told herself she must not be a coward.

  For the first time in her life, she was now up against something bigger than anything she had ever faced before.

  ‘I will not let it defeat me,’ she vowed. ‘I feel sure Mama will help me, but I have to use my brain and, more important still, my instinct to know what is right and what is wrong.’

  Because she felt the view outside the window was no help to her, she pulled back the curtain and got into bed.

  As she lay back on her pillows, she had the feeling that she had suddenly grown up.

  From being in many ways just
a child she was now mentally older, stronger and more determined than she had been – reaching not for earthly possessions of which she was fortunate to have so many, but for something that was indefinable and spiritual.

  It was this that would help her in what she knew was going to be a battle. A battle with the one member of her family who really mattered – her father.

  She had known, ever since she was a child, that he was a very determined man. He invariably had his way not only with her mother, who adored him, but with everyone in his life.

  ‘Yet in this instance,’ she told herself, ‘he is going to be the loser and not the winner!’

  If she was now to fight him as effectively as he was planning to organise her and her future, she would need his intelligence and his strength to defeat him.

  ‘I can do it! I know I can do it!’ Flavia told herself, ‘and I will have to be even more astute than Papa and use my gift of perception as it has never been used before.’

  She drew in her breath.

  Then, almost instinctively, she prayed softly,

  ‘Please God help me.’

  *

  The next morning Flavia woke up before the maid came to call her and she realised she had slept peacefully all through the night.

  She had imagined she would lie awake worrying over what would happen to her, but, as if her prayers had soothed away her doubts and fears, she felt at peace. Not only with herself but with the world outside.

  When she went down to breakfast, it was to find that her father was already eating.

  He was in a hurry to go to Number 10 Downing Street as he had an appointment with the Prime Minister.

  “I do hope, Papa, to meet Mr. Disraeli while I am in London,” said Flavia. “I have read so much about him and admire him enormously.”

  “You are quite right, my dear. He is a great man. The Queen does like being with him and encourages him to spend as much time as possible at Windsor Castle.”

  “Is there anything you particularly want me to do, Papa? And will you be back for luncheon?”

  “We will have luncheon together and if I am free, I will take you to call on one or two friends who I know will be useful to you.”

  “That will be wonderful, Papa.”

  “And don’t forget I want you to look through your mother’s jewellery for tomorrow night. I have also given my secretary the names of others who should be asked to come in after dinner. I suggest you look at the list so that you know who they are when they arrive.”

  “Of course I will, Papa. I am looking forward to the party, especially to meeting His Royal Highness.”

  “I want you also to take notice of the young man I mentioned before, the Earl of Haugton, my dear. He is most intelligent, has a huge fortune and is pursued by every ambitious mother in the whole of London.”

  “You mean he is unmarried?” she asked innocently.

  “Of course he is unmarried, but he is twenty-eight and sooner or later he will have to marry to produce an heir. I believe that his relatives are already pleading with him to do so.”

  “I hope he has the strength to refuse them,” Flavia remarked. “One should marry only because one is in love and not because one wants a son or, as the case may be, a title.”

  Her father smiled.

  “You will learn it is really most important. It has always been a deep regret to me that I did not have a son, not only to carry on the title but to live in The Priory and feel as we do that he is part of it.”

  “Which, of course, we are, Papa. It has been there for hundreds of years and I am certain that whoever takes over from you will treat it with respect and love.”

  Her father did not answer.

  She knew, as she had indeed known all her life, that he fervently wished that she was a boy rather than a girl.

  Because she did not want him to think about that at this moment, Flavia asked him,

  “Will you be seeing Lord Carlsby today?”

  “I doubt it. He will be at Windsor Castle. It is so essential that he should be with Her Majesty and keep out others who are undesirable.”

  He spoke the words almost violently and Flavia smiled to herself.

  It seemed ridiculous that this Earl of Haugton could topple two such emninent gentlemen from their beloved position of power.

  Her father rose from the table.

  “I will be back at twelve o’clock,” he said, “and I will take you to luncheon with one of my friends. Then I hope we will call on some more this afternoon. Look your prettiest and remember, if the Dowagers disapprove of you, you are quickly, in some peculiar way, dropped Socially.”

  Flavia laughed.

  “You are not frightening me, Papa. You know that everyone will be pleased to accept me as your daughter. I promise you I will behave exactly as Mama would want me to.”

  “I know that,” her father replied. “The trouble is we have too many people nowadays barging into places where they should keep out – and making trouble.”

  Again he was bitter and Flavia was convinced that the Earl of Haugton had really got under her father’s skin and Lord Carlsby’s.

  ‘It’s almost like a game,’ she thought ‘except that they take it so seriously.’

  She wondered if the Earl of Haugton knew how apprehensive he had made them.

  Once her father had left, she went into the library.

  She took out the books she had removed yesterday just to make sure she had not been dreaming when she had overheard the conversation between the two courtiers.

  The small holes were still there.

  She replaced the books in case anyone else should realise, as she had, that it was a listening-post.

  ‘It just shows,’ she mused, ‘how careful one should be. One day I must warn Papa in case anyone who is his enemy listens to him and does him untold harm.’

  She chose some more books from the other side of the library to take upstairs to her bedroom.

  She then dressed for her father to introduce her into the Social world.

  She could not help feeling that if it had been a year ago, before her mother had died, she would have felt very differently from the way she felt now.

  She was not really certain what she did feel.

  Only that she was older, wiser and certainly more determined than she had ever been before.

  She would not be manoeuvred, pushed or forced into doing anything she did not wish to do.

  Especially when it concerned marriage.

  Her father and mother had been so happy together. He had never looked at anyone else, nor had she.

  Yet, although Flavia could not exactly put it into words, she knew that she wanted more.

  She wanted something other people seldom had but which everyone sought.

  It was the love she had read about in books.

  Love that men had fought for, died for and even been crucified for.

  It was the great love that was not only physical but spiritual.

  And which had caused revolutions and misery since the world began.

  But it had also given people a desire for what every man in his heart believed he was entitled to.

  ‘I suppose in a way,’ Flavia reflected, ‘that is why I have educated myself so that I can help any man I love whatever he is doing. Also so that I can love someone who is himself everything I am seeking.’

  She realised only too well that debutantes and all young girls wanted to marry a man with money and who was of standing in the Social world.

  Flavia had always thought that was a stupid way of looking at life.

  After all, even if the man you married was a Duke and you then became a grand Duchess, it would be small compensation to be bowed to and asked to open Flower Shows if your husband was not interested in you.

  ‘What I want,’ Flavia had said to herself when she was quite young, ‘is a man who will love me because I am me and not because my father is a Lord or my mother is a great beauty. I must be the most important person in
the world in his eyes, just as he must be in mine.’

  She had often thought about this riding alone in the woods.

  She had often wondered when she saw a bride and groom coming out of the village Church how much they meant to each other.

  Was the world really wonderful for them because they were in love?

  She knew perceptively that most of their friends who came to The Priory to see her father and mother were not really happy.

  They might be influential, they might be rich, they might boast a title, yet she knew that there was something missing in their lives.

  She could feel that they had little to look forward to and that they were not living their precious lives to the full.

  When she studied them with her strange power of perception, she recognised that something was missing.

  None of them looked forward to a wonderful and exciting life ahead.

  ‘There is something wrong,’ she told herself, ‘and it is something I definitely don’t want.’

  She had thought it all out most carefully this last year before coming to London.

  Of course she realised that all debutantes, and she was no exception, wanted to be married.

  They longed to meet the perfect man who would love them. A man who would give them a life of sunshine and happiness with children to ensure that their marriage was complete.

  And Flavia was sensible enough to realise that this happened very rarely and if she wanted it to happen to her, she would have to be very careful.

  The man who said that he loved her must not be impressed by her father’s power and influence.

  Nor by his title.

  Nor by The Priory and its large estate.

  Nor by the money she herself would inherit when her father died.

  All these thoughts dazzled like stars around her.

  What she desired was a man who would love and adore her, even if she had been born in the gutter with nothing to offer him but her heart and her soul.

  ‘I suppose,’ Flavia mused as she walked down the stairs, ‘I am asking the impossible. Papa has asked his friends to be kind to his motherless daughter and they will not fail him. And yet secretly he and Lord Carlsby have already decided what to do with me. That I will never tolerate nor will I ever agree to it!’