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

  She had taken for herself the largest and most luxurious of the bedrooms. Next to it was a sitting room and beyond it there was a smaller but quite comfortable room for Daniela.

  On the other side of her own room Lady Seabrooke had installed her lady’s maid, Maria.

  As it was impossible for Maria to accompany Daniela in the evening when they went to the casino, her stepmother instructed her to keep close beside her.

  If she disobeyed, she would be punished in a manner that would be very painful and Daniela was aware that she was threatening to beat her.

  Every nerve in her body shrank not only from the pain but also the humiliation.

  She had therefore obediently stood behind her stepmother’s chair.

  Lady Seabrooke gambled in high stakes, losing a large amount of the money that Daniela knew she would have to finance eventually.

  Before sitting down at the gambling table, Lady Seabrooke had scrutinised everybody in the casino.

  She had found a number of acquaintances and Daniela had been aware that the women were fantastically gowned in the same way as her stepmother with their faces rouged and powdered.

  A great number of them, she thought, spoke in a manner that told her they were not ladies and she suspected that they belonged to the Demi-Monde.

  She was, however, too nervous to say so and was aware that what her stepmother was really looking for was a man.

  There were, Daniela saw, a number of very distinguished gentlemen in the casino.

  Some of them were escorting the overdressed and overpainted courtesans whom her stepmother had greeted.

  But, although Daniela heard one or two of the women refer to her as ‘Madame Blanc’, the gentlemen she was introduced to had either turned to talk to somebody else or gone to the tables to gamble.

  Last night they dined alone in the attractive dining room of the Stephanie Hotel and afterwards they had gone to the casino.

  Her stepmother had obviously found the man she had been seeking.

  As they entered the Salle Louis Quatorze, she gave a cry of delight and appeared to fling herself at a man standing just inside the door.

  He was watching the newcomers in a scrutinising way that did not seem quite natural.

  He was slim, dark and so obviously French that Daniela was not surprised when her stepmother said,

  “Let me introduce you, Daniela, to an old friend and a very charming man, Monsieur le Comte André de Sauzan.”

  She spoke the words slowly and distinctly.

  Then she looked at the Frenchman out of the corners of her eyes as if she was sharing a joke with him.

  “Enchanté, mademoiselle!” the Comte bowed and said.

  Lady Seabrooke linked her arm through his, saying in a low voice that Daniela could only just hear,

  “I have so much to tell you and it will be, I assure you, very much to your advantage.”

  There was such a crowd and so much noise going on in the casino that Daniela did not hear any more.

  But the Comte stayed beside them all the evening and they returned to the Stephanie Hotel rather earlier than usual.

  Daniela was relieved, as she had no wish to gamble and she found it irritating to watch her stepmother gambling with her money in such an extravagant manner.

  She knew that when Esmé Seabrooke lost she would not worry knowing who would have to pay.

  They went straight up to the suite and Daniela was sent to bed.

  Maria was waiting for her.

  As usual she was disagreeable, making it clear that it was a nuisance to have to maid two ladies and, where Daniela was concerned, act as jailor.

  Having locked her in without saying goodnight, Maria went to her own room and Daniela gave a sigh of relief.

  As if it was not insulting enough to be locked in, her stepmother had decreed that all her clothes were to be kept in Maria’s room just in case she had any idea of trying to escape.

  It would be impossible, she knew, for her to walk about the hotel wearing only a diaphanous nightgown that had been bought for her in Paris.

  It was equally impossible to climb out of the window even if she had been prepared to risk her neck in doing so.

  She was not tired and as she did not want to sleep, she pulled back the curtains and looked out at the night.

  The hotel had in front of it a garden that sloped down to the banks of the River Oos, over which there were picturesquely designed bushes.

  From her window Daniela could see the moonlight turning the water to silver and glittering through the leaves in the trees.

  Above them there was the sky filled with stars.

  It was so lovely that she had a longing to be outside instead of caged behind walls that to all intents and purposes were the bars of a prison.

  Then she remembered that in the sitting room of their suite there was a French window that opened onto a balcony.

  She wondered if she could go out there into the night air without anyone being aware of it.

  The door of her bedroom communicated with the sitting room and her stepmother’s room was on the other side of it.

  She knew that even if the door into the passage was unlocked she would hardly run away in her nightgown.

  Now, because she wanted just for a moment to feel free, she opened the communicating door very quietly.

  She was sure that by this time the Comte would have left for otherwise she would have heard their voices, even if she could not distinguish what they were saying.

  She was right.

  He must have gone as the sitting room was in darkness.

  The curtains covering the French windows had been pulled back, and one of the casements was opened onto the balcony.

  Walking on tiptoe, just in case her stepmother should hear her, she crossed the room, making no sound on the soft carpet, and reached the window.

  As she did so, she heard a man’s voice and stood still.

  It was then she realised that the Comte was in her stepmother’s bedroom.

  It was a shock because, when she had been introduced to him as an ‘old friend’, it had never struck Daniela in her innocence that he was in fact Esmé Seabrooke’s lover.

  She had been shocked, horrified and appalled that Madame Blanc had married her father in such a deceitful manner.

  At the same time he said that she had pleaded with him, so she had supposed that in a way she loved him.

  Daniela had never come in contact with women who sold themselves to men simply for what they could get out of it in hard cash.

  She found it difficult therefore, even though she disliked and despised her stepmother, to realise that in such a short time after her father’s death she was in bed with another man.

  For the moment she was stunned into immobility and could only stand listening to the Comte’s voice.

  She could not hear what he said, but when her stepmother answered him there was no doubt that her voice was passionate and very different from the hard shrill tone in which she usually spoke to her.

  Feeling disgusted and almost physically sick, Daniela pushed the window further open and stepped out into the darkness.

  She walked to where she was furthest from her stepmother’s bedroom and could no longer hear their voices.

  She found that her heart was beating agitatedly and her hands were cold and she realised that she was suffering from shock.

  Then she told herself that it was foolish when she was trying to escape to worry about what her stepmother was doing.

  ‘I must get – back to England – I must,’ she said to herself, looking up at the stars. ‘Help me, Papa, help me. You cannot leave me – here with this – terrible woman!’

  Daniela went on praying both to her father and her mother, feeling that wherever they were they would hear her and somehow show her a way of escape.

  She suddenly became aware that the wind had risen, which was moving the leaves of the trees and, since she was wearing nothing but a nightgown, she felt cold.


  She told herself that she must go to bed and reluctantly moved back along the balcony to the window.

  Careful to make no noise she stepped through it onto the carpet.

  As she did so, she saw that there was a long streak of light coming from the corner of the room where a communicating door led into her stepmother’s bedroom.

  She realised that the wind blowing through the open window must have made the door open, but the occupants were unaware of it.

  They were talking and now Daniela could hear what they said quite clearly.

  “You must agree that my plan is brilliant,” she heard her stepmother say and now her voice was no longer low and passionate.

  “I am afraid that somebody might be aware that Yvonne is still alive,” the Comte replied.

  “You have not seen her for years and you know as well as I do that you have changed your name.”

  The Comte laughed.

  “As you have changed yours!”

  “It’s something that we can always do again,” her stepmother said with a giggle.

  “Nevertheless I have no wish to get into trouble.”

  “If you do, you will have enough money to buy your way out of it.”

  “It would be wise to go to England and take over the house and estate. I had a good look at it when I was there and I can assure you that it is really magnificent and very much in the grand manner!”

  There was silence and then Esmé added,

  “I shall be with you and we shall be very happy as we have always been.”

  “Are you quite certain, Esmé, that it is the only way we can obtain her money?” the Comte enquired.

  “The only way, unless we wait until she is twenty-five.”

  He laughed.

  “And we cannot wait. There is no need for me to tell you that as usual I am down to my last franc! I was looking for a chicken to pluck when you came in tonight.”

  “This is not a chicken, but a pot of gold,” Esmé replied. “We can share it together and be comfortable for the rest of our lives!”

  Again there was a pause before the Comte said,

  “All right. I have little alternative but to agree, but I am not being married as a Catholic. I have no wish if there is any fuss to be excommunicated!”

  “No, of course not,” Esmé replied soothingly. “I will arrange everything at the Protestant Church, where to you it will not be a real marriage.”

  “You are very clever, ma chérie.”

  “That is what I want you to think, as you always have. Oh, André, kiss me! I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to be with you again.”

  The whole horror of what they were doing awoke Daniela from the stupor that had held her spellbound as she listened to their conversation.

  As she realised that to be discovered would be disastrous, she moved slowly on tiptoe across the room to the door that led into her bedroom.

  Only when she had closed it slowly and carefully did she run to what seemed the security of her own bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin.

  Could it really be true, what she had just heard?

  Could her stepmother really be intending to marry her to a man who was already married so that they could live in the house that had always been her home and spend her father’s money?

  It was almost impossible for her to believe that any woman could sink so low and behave so abominably.

  ‘I will denounce her. I will tell the world what she is like.’ Daniela thought.

  Then she knew with a feeling of horror that it was unlikely anyone would believe her even if she could find somebody to talk to.

  She knew also that, as her stepmother had done to her father, she would be quite capable of drugging her as she had before.

  Then she would have her married without being aware of what was happening to her.

  As she lay in bed going over and over what she had heard, she asked herself if, because they had been speaking in French, she might have misunderstood their intentions.

  Then she knew that she was not mistaken.

  Unless she could find some way to prevent it, she would be taken to the Protestant Church and married to a man who would be a bigamist.

  She was also afraid that, if she tried to denounce her stepmother and the Comte, she might be murdered if they thought that anyone would believe her accusations against them.

  ‘What – can I – do? Oh, God, what can – I do?’

  Only as the hours passed did she know that only her prayers could help her, and that by some miracle she would be rescued.

  *

  All through the next day Daniela became more and more aware of the danger she was in.

  Her stepmother did not rise until nearly luncheon time.

  It was twelve noon when the Comte arrived and came up to the suite.

  Champagne was waiting for him, besides a pot of pâté de foie gras and another of caviar.

  Now, as Daniela looked at him more closely in the daylight, she thought that her father would never have trusted him nor would her mother.

  There was something about him that made her shudder.

  When she touched his hand, the vibrations from it told her he was an evil man.

  He was not as young as he had seemed last night and she thought that he must be getting on for forty.

  Because he was slim and there were no grey hairs on his dark head, he looked younger.

  It was, she thought, his eyes that betrayed him.

  When he paid her compliments she knew by the expression in his eyes that he was merely thinking of her fortune and how pleasant it would be to spend it.

  “I thought today that we would go to the races,” her stepmother was saying.

  “That is what I knew you would want to do,” the Comte answered, “and I am sure that Mademoiselle will enjoy seeing some of the finest horses in Europe.”

  “You sound too formal,” her stepmother said archly. “Do call her ‘Daniela’. I want you two people whom I love to become friends.”

  “Of course I shall be honoured,” the Comte said, “and Daniela is a very pretty name.”

  To Daniela it was an agony to listen to this man talking to her as if he was genuinely interested in her as a woman.

  All he wanted was to share with her stepmother the money they were intent on stealing from her.

  *

  Later they had gone to the races.

  But Daniela was not entranced, as she would have been ordinarily, by the horses that were, as the Comte had said, some of the finest in Europe.

  The onlookers were in their own way almost as magnificent.

  The owners, who had come from Paris and every adjacent country, were most of them aristocrats.

  The ladies, in gowns that were a tribute to the French couturiers, might each of them have played the lead role in the theatre.

  Despite being desperately worried and afraid, Daniela could not help looking round at what seemed to her more like a pageant than reality.

  It was then that she had seen, coming from the stands to look at the horses parading before the next race, a woman who was even more spectacularly dressed than the others.

  She was not exactly beautiful, but, as she walked past, Daniela could see that she had a fascinating face.

  She was somehow different from the other women who were looking at her with undisguised jealousy.

  Then Daniela heard her say,

  “I’ll bet you ten thousand pounds that you can’t beat the Duc’s horse!”

  Daniela realised with surprise that she was speaking in English and that her voice, while young and gay, was also somewhat common.

  Then she heard the man who was with her reply,

  “Done! And if you lose, Cora, I shall expect you to pay up. ”

  It was his deep voice that made Daniela look at him and she realised that he was in fact extremely handsome.

  She was, however, not concerned with his looks but his having spoken in the same way that her father
might have done.

  There was something about him, perhaps because of his nationality, that made her feel that her father was near her and helping her.

  ‘Perhaps if I could speak to him, he could tell me what to do,’ she thought.

  Then, as he walked away beside the woman whom he had called ‘Cora’, she knew despairingly that she would be unable to approach him.

  When later the gentleman’s horse won the big race by a head she learned who he was and was also told somewhat harshly by her stepmother of his involvement with Cora Pearl.

  “How that woman can be so successful I don’t know!” she said in an envious voice. “If you ask me, she uses black magic to get the men into her clutches!”

  “There is no doubt they are mesmerised by her,” the Comte commented. “Have you heard of her latest gamble?”

  “If she has won any more money, then I don’t want to hear about it,” Esmé snapped, “but I expect you will tell me anyway!”

  The Comte laughed.

  “We all know that Cora Pearl spends a fortune on entertaining and has one of the best chefs in Paris.”

  He stopped speaking a moment before continuing,

  “The other day she wagered her guests that she would give them some meat that none of them would dare to carve.”

  He paused and Esmé said,

  “I cannot imagine what that could be.”

  “It was quite simple,” the Comte replied. “She had herself served on a huge silver salver carried by four men. She was naked except for a sprinkling of parsley!”

  Esmé did not laugh.

  Instead she remarked sourly,

  “Why did I not think of that?”

  Daniela turned away.

  How could her father’s wife wish to do anything so immodest or so unpleasant?

  When they returned to the Stephanie Hotel, she found herself thinking of the Marquis of Crowle.

  Vaguely at the back of her mind she could remember hearing his name when she was in England and had followed the racing because her father was interested in it.

  That night they had dinner at the casino and she thought that, if the Marquis was there, perhaps she would get a chance to speak to him.

  She could then beg him to help her because she was her father’s daughter.

  She knew that her stepmother would be furious if she called herself anything but ‘Daniela Lyndon’, which was the name she was registered as at the hotel.