A Road to Romance Read online

  He was silent as Herbert helped him into his very smartly cut waistcoat and his cut-away evening coat made him look even more dashing than he had in the daytime.

  “How can I be such a fool,” the Marquis said aloud, “as to have forgotten where I was going tonight?”

  “It’s understandable when your Lordship has had so many invitations,” Herbert said soothingly. “You’ll enjoy yourself, my Lord, with her Ladyship. I’ve seen pictures of her in the magazines and she’s very beautiful. There be no other word to describe her.”

  “You are right, Herbert, and so I would be a fool to miss the opportunity of being alone with her.”

  The Marquis looked in the mirror to see if his hair was tidy and the top of his handkerchief showed from the pocket of his coat.

  Then he said,

  “Don’t forget to send the usual bouquet of orchids to her Ladyship tomorrow morning. I will find time before I leave to write and tell her I have been called away owing to the illness of one of my closest relatives, who may not have long to live.”

  “That’s the right story, my Lord. There be no one born who couldn’t be real sympathetic if you was in that position.”

  The Marquis could have told him that there were a number of women who were very suspicious when he had used this excuse and had told him so in no uncertain terms.

  However, he only hoped that Lady Cowleigh would be different.

  Then he turned towards the door and said,

  “Call me early, however sleepy I may be, and don’t forget I want the plainest clothes to travel in so that I look rather dull and insignificant.”

  “I’ll do me best, my Lord. At the same time, if you asks me, it’ll be difficult to make you look anythin’ but the smart handsome gentleman you’ve always been!”

  The Marquis smiled but did not reply.

  In fact before Herbert had finished speaking, he had reached the top of the stairs.

  His closed carriage was waiting for him at the front of the house driven by two horses.

  He was wondering if he should keep it or walk back home as he often did. It was a fine night and he knew that, if the evening developed as he expected, he would enjoy the fresh air and the last twinkle from the stars in the sky.

  Then, as he drove off, he thought that it might be too tiring to walk from Lady Cowleigh’s house to his own.

  It would shorten the sleep he would definitely need before he set out on his arduous journey in the morning.

  Therefore, when he arrived at Cowleigh House, he instructed the coachman to come back in two hours’ time.

  He was amused at the expression on the man’s face.

  He had been certain that to disguise what time he left the lady in question, he would have been prepared to walk back to Belgrave Square.

  Then, as he was let into the house by a superior-looking elderly butler, he doubted for the first time, if on such a short acquaintance Lady Cowleigh would succumb to his advances.

  Because of his successes in the past, he had never been sent away when he wished to stay.

  But now, for the first time, he was wondering if he was over-optimistic in thinking that she would not play the old game of being surprised at his suggestions.

  She would make him, as she might well think, even more ardent and keen than he was already by prolonging the moment when she accepted his advances.

  As he went up the stairs to the drawing room, he found himself wondering how the evening would end.

  Would it be any different from what he anticipated?

  The butler announced him in a stentorian voice,

  “The Marquis of Whisinford, my Lady.”

  As the Marquis suspected, she was wearing not a full evening dress but a most attractive negligee. It was of a pale green chiffon ornamented with gold lace and round her neck was a glittering necklace of diamonds and in her ears there were some superlative emeralds.

  She did not rise from the sofa she was reclining on when he was announced, but held out her hand.

  Raising it to his lips he gently kissed each finger one by one.

  “You look even more beautiful than you did the other night,” he greeted her.

  “I am so glad you could come tonight, my Lord, so that we can talk without being interrupted,”

  “And what in particular have we to talk about?” the Marquis enquired.

  As he was speaking, he helped himself to a glass of champagne from a bottle in an impressive ice-bucket.

  She did not reply and he raised his glass.

  “Let me drink,” he said, “to the loveliest woman I have ever seen, who I wish to see a great deal more of.”

  It was what he had said many times and which had always been received gracefully.

  “Lady Cowleigh’s eyes fluttered most becomingly and she smiled before she breathed seductively,

  “I am sure you always flatter everyone, my Lord, and that is why you are so popular.”

  “Am I popular?” the Marquis enquired. “I am often told I have a great number of enemies, but I must admit that they are usually the husbands of very beautiful women who, until I appear, did not appreciate their beauty!”

  Lady Cowleigh laughed.

  “I cannot say that of my husband and I can tell you that he is very jealous and very quick at reaching for his duelling pistol.”

  “Now you are trying to frighten me,” the Marquis said. “But I think your husband is very wise in guarding you as I would do if you were my wife.”

  There was a slight pause and then Lady Cowleigh reflected,

  “I wonder if anyone would really be happy as your wife. I expect that you are well aware, my Lord, that your reputation is a very questionable one to say the least of it.”

  “You must not believe all the gossip you hear. In fact, at least eighty per cent of it is totally exaggerated or completely untrue.”

  Lady Cowleigh laughed again.

  “That is a very clever way of disregarding the fact that you are openly talked about as being a roué, which is unusual in someone so young.”

  “As I have just said, you must not believe all you hear. Equally you must believe me when I tell you that you are very beautiful.”

  It was true because she had a very unusual beauty.

  In most of his love affaires the Marquis had been attracted by women with golden hair and blue eyes and he also greatly admired the perfect pink and white complexion for which English women were noted.

  Lady Cowleigh on the other hand had dark hair and eyes which, when he looked closely at them, were a deep green.

  That she was proud of them was shown by the way she sported her emeralds and was wearing a green dress that made her skin seem even whiter than it was naturally.

  It accentuated the darkness of her hair and she was certainly, he reflected, different from any other woman he had been attracted to.

  The sublime whiteness of her skin reminded him of the snow-tipped mountains he had seen when he visited Switzerland.

  When dinner was announced, he found it was being served in a small room opposite the drawing room in which there were a great number of flower arrangements.

  They were put there, he realised, to hide what was otherwise quite obviously a study and he suspected that it was where his Lordship, when he was in residence, wrote his letters and read the newspapers.

  “I thought it was a mistake,” Lady Cowleigh said, “to have to go upstairs to the big dining room as it always seems to me cold and too large when I am alone or have only one guest.”

  “I think that this room is delightful and a perfect background for you,” the Marquis said automatically.

  It was something he had said a hundred times and the words came to his lips without him even thinking.

  He was aware as the food, which was delicious, was served by the butler who let him in, that the rest of the household were not expected to know about his presence.

  They might talk and talk in Mayfair flowed very quickly from one house to ano
ther and from one beauty to another.

  The Marquis knew that if one of his former beauties with whom he had had an affaire-de-coeur was aware that he was now with Lady Cowleigh, they would undoubtedly spread the message all over London Society.

  It would then only be a question of time before his Lordship, one way or another, would hear it.

  He therefore thoroughly enjoyed dinner and found that Lady Cowleigh was amusing and able to keep him laughing until the meal ended.

  Then, as they walked back into the drawing room, he was aware, as he closed the door, that behind him the lights were dimmer than they had been when he arrived.

  There was a door at the far end of the room, which he was almost certain would lead into her bedroom.

  Just for a short moment he hesitated, remembering the long road North that lay in front of him tomorrow.

  Then he thought that a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush and perhaps never again would there be an opportunity like this.

  It was as he closed the door into the dining room behind him and then saw that Lady Cowleigh was standing waiting for him by the fireplace, that he knew exactly what his next move would be.

  As he took her gently into his arms, he realised that everything was moving exactly as he expected, step by step towards her bedroom.

  *

  It was around three hours later that the Marquis remembered that his carriage would be waiting for him.

  “You are not leaving me?” Lady Cowleigh asked. “Oh, dearest, there is no hurry and you have made me so very very happy.”

  “Just as you have made me,” the Marquis breathed. “But unfortunately I have to leave London early tomorrow morning.”

  “Leave London!” Lady Cowleigh cried. “But you know I want to see you and Arthur will not be home until the end of the week.”

  “I learnt today,” he replied, “that unfortunately one of my relatives is very ill, in fact dying. As she wishes to say a final goodbye to me before she leaves this world, I really cannot refuse. So I must go to her tomorrow.”

  “Oh, why must all this happen just when we are so happy?” Lady Cowleigh asked.

  “That is the same question I am asking myself,” the Marquis assured her. “But I will be as quick as possible and I will let you know the moment I can return.”

  She gave a little sob and turned her face against his shoulder.

  It was another ten minutes before he could manage to escape from her hands and her lips and started to dress.

  “I never thought that this would happen to me,” she said. “I cannot bear you to leave me.”

  “I have no wish to leave you,” the Marquis replied. “But I will not be away for long, then I will get in touch with you immediately.”

  “I will be very upset,” she murmured, “in fact in tears if you do not do so.”

  He finished dressing himself and from long practice he was very skilful at it.

  Then he turned towards the large canopied four-poster the bed.

  She looked very lovely in the light of three candles that were all that illuminated the room.

  He had been aware that the large amount of lilies and the scent of them could not have been arranged for any woman occupying the huge bed alone.

  It passed through his mind that he was certainly not the first, nor the last, who would be entertained so cleverly and so comfortably.

  The Marquis walked towards the bed and she held out her hands.

  He took one of them and kissed her fingers as he had done when he arrived.

  Then he said,

  “Sleep well, my beautiful one, and then if you must dream – dream of me.”

  “I have no wish to dream when you are near me,” Lady Cowleigh sighed. “It is still too early for you to go, so send your carriage away and stay with me.”

  “I wish I could do that, but as I have just told you, I have to leave early in the morning. It would be a disaster if I was too sleepy to do so.”

  He kissed her again.

  When she rose in the bed as if to hold him in both arms, he moved swiftly towards the door.

  “I cannot let you leave!” she cried.

  But it was too late.

  He was gone before she had finished speaking.

  As she now heard him running down the stairs, she threw herself back petulantly against the pillows.

  She was furious that he had got away so easily, but at the same time she was certain he would come back.

  There had never been a lover who had not found her irresistible and she was quite certain that the Marquis would be no exception.

  Driving back to his house in Belgrave Square, the Marquis thought that it was a good thing he was leaving London tomorrow – or was it today?

  He could not explain to himself why, but he knew without putting it into words that he really had no wish to see her again.

  It did surprise him, as it would undoubtedly horrify and astonish her, but he could not understand why.

  He was not enraptured with her as he should be.

  In fact there was, the Marquis thought, nothing new or unusual about their lovemaking except that almost for the first time in an affaire-de-coeur he was content to leave it and not pursue the matter any further.

  It was indeed something that had not happened to him before and he found it hard to express, even to himself, what he felt.

  Yet he knew instinctively that he had no desire to see Lady Cowleigh again, beautiful though she was.

  Perhaps it was because everything was too carefully planned – too perfect in its own way and therefore there was nothing unusual or irresistible in their lovemaking.

  She was beautiful, as beautiful in her own way as any woman he had known before.

  But he had to be honest and admit that there was something lacking, something that made him glad that he was now going home.

  It was still not too late in the evening for him to have a good sleep before he left tomorrow morning.

  ‘Why? Why do I feel like this?’ he asked himself.

  But there was no answer to the question.

  As he arrived in Belgrave Square, he was glad to be back and it seemed as though the house protected him.

  Herbert was not waiting up for him because he had strict instructions not to do so and it was arranged that only if the Marquis rang for him was he to get out of bed and go to assist him to undress.

  It was something that had never happened before and the Marquis had no wish for it to happen now.

  At the same time, as he climbed into his own bed, he asked himself, as he had asked himself over and over again when driving home, why he had no wish to stay with the beautiful Lady Cowleigh?

  Or why he had no desire to see her again?

  ‘I must be getting old and blasé,’ he thought before he climbed into bed.

  *

  He slept peacefully and he was not in the least tired when he heard Herbert come into his room.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “Six o’clock, my Lord,” Herbert replied, “and you must remember you’re havin’ breakfast with His Grace at seven o’clock.”

  “Oh, yes, so I am,” the Marquis exclaimed, “and it would be a great mistake for me to be late!”

  “That’s what I thought, my Lord, and I’ve been to the stables and Samson be ready for you.”

  The Marquis knew that this meant Herbert had not arranged for one of the grooms to bring his horse round to the front door.

  When he had washed, he found that Herbert had put out clothes that he did not remember owning.

  He had not altered in size or height for the last few years and he guessed that they were clothes he had worn when exploring with two of his friends in Nepal.

  They certainly looked worn.

  Yet, as they had been made by a good, if not over-expensive tailor, they were certainly just what Neil Barlow, whoever he might be, would wear.

  When he had dressed, he looked at himself in the mirror.

&nbs
p; He thought that he certainly looked very middle-class, owning one horse and having very little money.

  Then he laughed because it was a way he had never thought of himself as appearing.

  He enjoyed the compliments he always received in being one of the smartest young men in Mayfair.

  “I thinks you’ll find everything you could want, my Lord,” Herbert said. “You’ll find a small pistol in the right hand bag with your shoes.”

  “I had not thought of my shoes,” the Marquis said. “But I will certainly need them as these old boots look as though I have worn them a thousand times already.”

  “That’s what your Lordship had when I bought you some new ones. You’ve rode a great many miles in those boots and they show it as if it was written on them.”

  This was true enough and the Marquis laughed.

  “I am most grateful to you, Herbert. Equally I will be very glad when I see you again with something decent to wear. I don’t suppose that Mr. Neil Barlow ever had a valet like you, as you are unique!”

  Herbert smiled at the compliment he had received many times before.

  “I know one thing, my Lord, Mr. Neil Barlow will need my services by the time he reaches Shermont Castle.”

  “Well, mind you are there when I arrive. I cannot believe that my cousin would let me to borrow his clothes, being an unexpected and perhaps unwelcome visitor.”

  “You’d never be that, my Lord,” Herbert protested. “If you asks me, they’ll be waiting with open arms for you at Shermont Castle.”

  “I hope you are right, Herbert. If I am late, don’t worry, I will turn up sooner or later.”

  “Now don’t you go on frightenin’ me. You knows, my Lord, how much you mean to me and to all of us who serves you. If you was in trouble, there’d not be a dry eye in the kitchen.”

  “That is the nicest compliment I have ever had,” the Marquis said. “Now come on. I must arrive at the Duke’s on time otherwise he might think I am backing out.”

  “I thinks it’d be a good thing if you did, but I’ll be crossin’ my fingers and hopin’ everythin’ will be all right till your Lordship gets home.”

  “You must not worry about me, Herbert. I will turn up like a bad penny and expect everything to be in order as it always is.”