Hide and Seek for Love Read online

  “You will do as you are told,” his father told him sternly. “I will brook no nonsense from you, Richard, and I have already arranged for the Duke to bring his daughter to meet you and the rest of the family next week.”

  Richard did not reply, as he knew of old that it was hopeless and a great mistake to argue with his father. He had done so when he was young and had been overruled.

  Two days before the Duke had arrived at Ingle Hall with his daughter, Richard left home and disappeared.

  The Marquis was furious at his behaviour, but there was nothing he could do.

  When, a few months later, he received a letter from his son, he almost had a stroke.

  Richard informed him that he had married someone he was deeply in love with and who loved him.

  “Her name,” he had written, “is Elizabeth Anson. Her father, who you will never have heard about, is a most distinguished scientist who has travelled all over the world and written several books on his discoveries.

  We are blissfully happy and I do hope that you will welcome Elizabeth when I bring her home.”

  The letter was written from Spain.

  It was not until several weeks later that the Marquis had learnt that his son was in London and that he was able to communicate with him.

  He then informed Richard that he had disobeyed his orders and behaved in a scandalous fashion. In addition he had then cut him off without a penny and he was no longer welcome at Ingle Hall.

  The letter had not troubled Richard at all as he was madly in love with his wife and she worshipped him.

  Their love was to increase over the years and when David was born, he merely added to their happiness.

  David had a somewhat strange upbringing that was bizarrely different from his father’s.

  Richard had not been especially upset at being cut off without a penny, as he had money of his own.

  His Godfather, who had been a very distinguished Statesman, had left him quite a considerable sum and this had grown while Richard was at Eton and Oxford, as he had no need to spend any of it.

  Now it paid for him, his wife and their small son to travel, as he always wanted to do, around the world.

  David therefore had the strangest education any boy could possibly experience.

  He had nurses who spoke to him in Arabic and he learnt Copt from some Egyptians who were friends of his father. He became virtually word perfect in ancient and modern Greek when they had lived in Greece for quite a considerable time.

  Apart from this, Richard, with his own excellent if conventional education, enjoyed teaching his son all he had learnt himself.

  They were blissfully happy, as three people seldom are happy, as they travelled from country to country and Richard always felt that there was somewhere in the world he had not yet explored.

  David was nearly twenty-one when disaster struck.

  When they were in North Africa, his father caught a fever, which was known to have no cure.

  It was lethal in his case and he died in three days.

  His wife and son both found it hard to believe that anything so terrible could happen so quickly.

  The British Embassy provided a burial in a small cemetery and the Ambassador arranged for the widow and her son to return to England.

  David’s mother was so prostrate with misery that he had to arrange everything.

  What worried him was that his father had left very little money, so that by the time the funeral was paid for and the lodgings where they had been staying, he only had just enough for their travelling expenses.

  Because they had then no home in England, he had thought that the only thing he could possibly do was to go to the family house in Kent, Ingle Hall.

  He had never been there himself, but his father had often told him how magnificent it was, having been built in Elizabethan times.

  Every generation had contributed to the collection of pictures, furniture, china and silver and, having been strictly entailed from one generation to the next, it had just grown and grown.

  Ingle Hall was now one of the treasures of England.

  As he had never seen it, it was difficult for David to realise not only its beauty but also its significance and because his father had been exiled, he always expected to be exiled himself.

  But since his mother was, in addition to her grief, in poor health, he decided to take her to the family home until they could find a house of their own.

  The Ambassador had very kindly sent a cable to the Marquis, informing him of David and Lady Richard Ingle’s imminent arrival.

  When their ship reached the white cliffs of Dover, David thought that this was another land of discovery for him, like those he had enjoyed with his father.

  They had a particularly tiring journey, ending in a post chaise before they finally reached Ingle Hall.

  It was past six o’clock in the evening and David’s mother was completely exhausted.

  “I am sorry, darling, to be such a nuisance,” she had murmured earlier in the day.

  “You are nothing of the sort, Mama, and as soon as we reach Ingle Hall, you must go to bed at once and stay there until you feel better.”

  She had smiled at David and put up her hands to touch his cheek.

  “You have been so kind and wonderful to me and I know that your father would be very grateful.”

  Tears came into her eyes when she spoke about her dear husband and her son bent down and kissed her.

  “You have been so very brave, Mama, and we must only hope that Grandpapa will be pleased to see us.”

  He knew as he spoke that his mother was thinking that this was most unlikely.

  He had not told her that at present their situation was desperate as he only had a few coins left and he hoped that when he contacted his father’s Bank he would find that matters were not as bad as they seemed.

  But he was mature enough to realise that they had spent a great deal of money recently on their journeys.

  His father had once or twice said that if things grew worse then both of them would have to seek out some way of earning money.

  David had thought at the time that it would not be so difficult as there was no one as clever as his father and he was sure that he could put his many languages to good use.

  Actually neither he nor his mother had ever thought about money very seriously – it had always been left in his father’s hands.

  They arrived at Ingle Hall and as they drove up the drive, David was most impressed by the huge ornamental gold-tipped gates.

  At his first sight of the house, he realised that his father had not exaggerated in his description of it.

  It was very large and impressive with its mellowed red bricks and fascinating Elizabethan chimneys and it was almost breathtaking in the sunshine.

  The post chaise drew up outside the front door and two footmen ran a red carpet down the steps.

  David helped his mother out carefully and she was, he realised, almost on the verge of collapse, but with her usual bravery, she raised her head and walked up the steps on his arm.

  A formidable butler with white hair addressed her,

  “Welcome and we were expecting you, my Lady, and his Lordship’s waiting for you and Mr. David in his study.”

  David smiled at him.

  “You must be Newman. My father often spoke of you and how kind you were when he was a little boy.”

  Newman looked delighted.

  “All of us loved Lord Richard,” he said, “although he be a real pickle from the time he were born!”

  David laughed.

  “I can well believe it.”

  Slowly, because it was impossible for his mother to move quickly, they both followed Newman down a high-ceilinged corridor.

  He stopped at a door and opened it to announce,

  “Lady Richard Ingle, my Lord, and Mr. David.”

  David realised that he was in the enchanting study his father had often described to him.

  There were book
s in inlaid marquetry cabinets and pictures that would be the envy of every art collector.

  From a Regency writing table glittering with a gold inkpot, the Marquis rose.

  It was the first time that David had ever seen his grandfather and he was neither as imposing nor as autocratic looking as he had expected.

  Over the years he had shrunk, and now aged eighty-seven, he was not the domineering figure he had been in earlier days.

  Yet when he spoke, his voice was still sharp, hard and aggressive,

  “So you have come home after all these years – ”

  David could not shake his hand, because his mother was supporting herself on his right arm.

  “As you will have heard, Grandpapa, my father has died of an Eastern fever and after we had buried him I have brought my mother back to England.”

  “So I can see, but that is no concern of mine!”

  The way he spoke was so obviously unpleasant that David’s mother gave a little exclamation.

  David moved her to a chair and helped her sit down and then he walked a few paces nearer to his grandfather.

  “I think you can see, Grandpapa, that my mother is not in good health and the shock of losing my father has almost been too much for her. I know we have a great deal to say to each other, but I would be exceedingly grateful if you would allow her to rest and then it would be best if she could see a doctor.”

  For a moment the Marquis did not reply and then he muttered,

  “Where your mother rests or does not rest is not my problem. Your father married her against my will, and I, therefore, do not consider her or you to be any part of my family!”

  David stared at him in astonishment and then with an effort, he enquired,

  “Are you turning us away?”

  “I am making it clear to you that your father chose to ignore what I had arranged for him. I communicated to him very clearly at the time that I no longer thought of him as my son and he would have no claim upon me at all.”

  Remembering that he had hardly any money, David was for the moment shocked into silence and then he tried in a conciliatory tone,

  “I can easily understand, Grandpapa, that you were annoyed with my father. Equally that was over twenty-two years ago. He is now dead and he always spoke to me with great affection for this house and his brothers.”

  “Your father chose his own life and I see no reason, now he is dead, that I should accept either his wife whom I despise, nor you, her son.”

  “I would very much hope, Grandpapa, that we can talk this over sensibly and perhaps a little more amicably tomorrow morning. As I have just requested, I think it is essential for my mother to rest after the long journey.”

  “I told the servants to keep whatever conveyance you came in and it is waiting for you at the front door!”

  David drew in his breath.

  “Are you really turning us away? As you can see my mother is sick and on the point of collapse.”

  “That is not my concern,” the Marquis replied, “and the sooner you both leave this house, where you are not at all welcome, the better I shall be pleased.”

  As he spoke he sat down at his writing desk as if to carry on with what he was doing when they came in.

  For a moment David was at a loss for words.

  He was also thinking that he might not have enough money to pay for the post chaise let alone lodgings for the night.

  It passed through his mind that he would have to crawl to his grandfather for help and then pride told him that it was a course he should not take.

  He merely turned round and walked to the chair his mother was sitting on and gently he drew her to her feet.

  “I am very sorry, Mama, but I am afraid we have to journey a little further.”

  She looked towards the Marquis and spoke up,

  “Whatever you may say or think about me, David is your grandson and – I am very shocked that you should treat him in this fashion.”

  The Marquis raised his head.

  “As I have said, your husband disobeyed me and I have no use for either his wife or his offspring.”

  The way he spoke was hurting and offensive.

  David knew that nothing more could be gained and so he merely drew his mother towards the door.

  And he was not surprised to find that Newman was waiting outside.

  Between them they carried his mother back through the hall, down the steps and into the post chaise.

  It was only then that David turned to Newman,

  “Tell me, Newman, where we can go. I cannot take my mother far. You can see how exhausted she is.”

  “I knows, Mr. David, and it’s real sorry I am for her Ladyship and you.”

  “Is there a hotel or a lodging house near here?”

  Newman shook his head.

  “I think you’d best go to the Vicar. He’s a kindly man. He’ll never refuse anyone and he were always very fond of your father.”

  David smiled at him.

  “Thank you, Newman, I am most grateful to you.”

  The Vicar had then accepted them and understood immediately what had happened at Ingle Hall.

  “Your grandfather is a hard man,” he said, “and he never forgave your father for refusing to be married to the distinguished lady he had chosen for him.”

  “It was a decision my father never regretted.”

  “I can understand that no one wants his wife chosen for him by someone else and I am glad that your father was so happy.”

  “Divinely happy – and my mother is finding it very difficult to be without him.”

  He carried her upstairs and with the gentle help of the Vicar’s servant, a nice woman from the village, they undressed her and got her into bed.

  It was only when David went to say goodnight to her that he realised how seriously ill she was.

  It was essential that she should see a doctor as quickly as possible, so the Vicar arranged one to call the next morning.

  But it was too late.

  Elizabeth passed away peacefully in her sleep.

  David was certain that she had joined his father and that they were together again.

  He knew that if he was honest, it would have been virtually impossible for her to make a new life in England without her husband, especially without any money.

  The first task that he must undertake, even before his mother was buried, was to pay a visit his father’s Bank and talk to the Manager.

  He was told in no uncertain terms that there was no money – what had been deposited originally by Lord Richard’s Godfather had been gradually drained away.

  The Bank had informed Lord Richard several times that there was very little left.

  “When I sent your father the last hundred pounds,” the Manager said, “I told him there was no more money. I, also, on his instructions, sold the few treasures he still owned.”

  David had then gone back to the Vicarage with just enough to give the Vicar what he owed him for paying the post chaise and for his mother’s burial.

  He had obtained this sum by selling the delightful silver engagement ring his father had given his mother as well as the pearl necklace he had bought her when they had first visited India.

  David had only been twelve years old when the family visited India for a short time. Yet he had always remembered the beauty of the country, which had excited him more than any other country his father had taken him to.

  He knew then what he wanted to do.

  He travelled to London to call on the Secretary of State for India, Lord Clare, who, as it happened, had known his father and had been extremely interested in the different places in the world where Lord Richard and his wife turned up unexpectedly.

  When David told him of his parent’s death, he was most sympathetic.

  “I have asked to come and see you, my Lord, as I want more than anything else to join a Regiment in India.”

  Lord Clare had been delighted.

  “We are very short of Officers
in the Cavalry – ”

  Then he hesitated before he added,

  “As you have this affection for India and as you are your father’s son, I cannot help thinking that you could be of tremendous help to the Viceroy in one particular way in which we are attempting to better the Russians.”

  David’s eyes lit up.

  “Are you talking of The Great Game, my Lord?”

  “You have heard of it?” Lord Clare exclaimed.

  “My father told me about it,” David replied, “and if there is one thing I wish to do more than anything else, it is to take part in what seems to me the most exciting and original ‘game’ that has ever been invented!”

  “You are quite right about that, but I am sure your father told you of its dangers, its difficulties and the fact that you take your life in your own hands every day.”

  “It is exactly what I want to do, my Lord.”

  His enthusiasm pleased Lord Clare, who had indeed been extremely fond of Lord Richard.

  David sailed out to India with a letter to the Colonel of his Regiment and also a private one to the Viceroy.

  David had been deeply shocked at losing both his father and his mother, but the prospects ahead of him took his mind off himself.

  Occasionally, he thought it was really rather sad to have no relatives and no family and to be, to all intents and purposes, entirely on his own.

  When he thought of his grandfather and the way he had behaved, he wanted to forget that he was an Ingle, just as his father had done, and make a life for himself.

  *

  Yet now at the age of ninety-two, his grandfather was dead and, although it seemed incredible, so were both his sons from his first marriage.

  As David ruminated on the irony of what had happened, he knew that his father would have laughed.

  After everything his father had done to break all ties with his paternal family, his son was now the ninth Marquis of Inglestone.

  If this had happened to his father, he could have looked forward to a long life as the Head of the family and as the owner of Ingle Hall and two thousand acres of good Kentish land.

  As the ship drew nearer to English shores, he was hoping that the rest of the family, if any existed, would not resent him or feel that he was usurping their inheritance.