The Castle Page 5

  Valeria laughed.

  “You saw me off the train and again on the journey here.”

  “But I need to see you properly.”

  His dark eyes surveyed her for a long moment and then he nodded approval.

  “That school in Brussels has been a success. My lovely daughter has acquired polish, sophistication and an ease of manner that will make her the toast of Society.”

  Valeria smiled, but she had been studying her father in the same way and her concern for him increased.

  Since they had last met, his face had become more lined and there were shadows under his eyes that had not been there before.

  “Papa, what is wrong?” she asked him gently, “and don’t tell me everything is all right with you because I will not believe it.”

  Sir Christopher gave a heavy sigh.

  “I was never able to keep a thing from your darling Mama and I can see you take after her in more than just looks.”

  He picked up his cup and sipped from it for a long moment. Setting it down again he drew his hand over his face as though trying to obliterate his features.

  “This is hard for me, sweetheart. I have to confess to you that I have been the most foolish of men. I allowed myself to be swindled by a con artist, a man who lives by financial propositions that on the surface appear attractive.

  “I invested more money than I had in the scheme he confidently assured would make me rich beyond my wildest dreams. Now I know I have lost everything. Our lovely home will have to be sold. There is even the possibility of prison.”

  Valeria stared at her father.

  “Papa, don’t frighten me. I can’t believe what you are saying.”

  Another heavy sigh.

  “I cannot blame you – if you refuse ever to speak to me again, my darling.”

  Valeria moved swiftly to sit on the grass beside her father’s knee. She took hold of his hand, held it to her cheek and looked up into his eyes.

  “My darling Papa, how could you even think such a thing? I don’t care what you have done, I shall always love you.”

  Tears came to his eyes.

  “My precious girl! What would I do without you?”

  “You will not have to. But are you quite sure it is as bad as you say? Have you spoken to anyone who knows about these affairs?”

  He gently removed his hand from Valeria’s grasp, found his handkerchief and blew his nose loudly.

  “I have spoken to our advisers. There seems only one option – to sell everything I own, then go and live very quietly on a tiny income somewhere abroad.”

  “Oh Papa! It does not matter to me, but to think of you having to give up the family home and live in poverty, I cannot bear it.”

  He put away his handkerchief and reached again for Valeria’s hand.

  “There is just one possible alternative and I hardly dare tell you what it is.”

  “You must, dearest Papa. Whatever it is, if it could save you from penury, it has to be the answer.”

  She looked at her father.

  “What is this alternative?”

  He shifted slightly in his chair, picked his watch out of his waistcoat pocket and studied the face.

  “An exceedingly rich man has asked me for your hand in marriage. If you will accept, he will discharge all my debts.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Valeria looked at her Papa in amazement.

  “An offer of marriage?”

  He leaned forward, excitement all over his face.

  “It could be the answer to all our prayers. You will be set up in the finest style with a husband who adores you, and who is someone, incidentally, who I greatly admire – and I can remain in my home.”

  He looked towards the lovely house that meant so much to him.

  Valeria could say nothing.

  Her mind was in a whirl.

  “He will join us for dinner tonight, my darling. I know he hopes for a favourable answer. He is very much in love with you and I believe you have formed an attachment to him. But, if the match is in any way distasteful to you, I shall not mind if you refuse your suitor.”

  He rose.

  “I have to visit the stables. There are some matters that need to be discussed with Barkis.”

  Barkis was the Head Groom.

  Horses were Sir Christopher’s delight. He kept a fine stable, was known to breed successfully and was both a dashing rider and driver.

  Valeria watched him walk towards the stables and remembered her drive with Sir Peter in the high phaeton.

  He would have much in common with her father.

  In a sudden blinding moment, she thought that this unknown suitor had to be Sir Peter.

  A fire ran through Valeria’s veins.

  The more she speculated about this possibility, the more she became convinced that he was the man who had offered for her.

  She knew nothing of his circumstances, but all the members of Juliette’s circle seemed to be wealthy.

  Sir Peter certainly looked the part with his fashionable clothes and air of flamboyance.

  For a moment she remembered how conservatively Lord Waterford dressed. His wardrobe was well cut, but he was certainly not the height of fashion.

  In addition Sir Peter understood horseflesh and he drove exceedingly well and was a dashing rider.

  Lord Waterford had complete control of his mount, but he rode with none of Sir Peter’s élan.

  She recalled the way he had looked at her and the excitement that raged through her when he touched her.

  Then she persuaded herself to be calm.

  There was no certainty that it was indeed Sir Peter who had offered for her. After all they had only just met, even if something had seemed to spark between them.

  Gradually, as she thought through all her Papa had told her, she began to understand exactly what it meant.

  Unless she accepted this offer of marriage, whoever it was from, it was not only her father’s life that would change beyond all recognition. He would have to sell their lovely house and go away and live in penury. She would not be able to move in Society or afford any more pretty dresses.

  She would not be able to stay with Juliette or any of the other friends she had made in Brussels. Even if they were prepared to overlook her poverty, she would not be able to accept their invitations because she would be unable to return their hospitality.

  Her mouth dry, Valeria faced the extinction of a life she had known since she was born.

  Then she rallied.

  She was young, so perhaps starting life anew would be an adventure? She was well educated and intelligent.

  She could find employment, perhaps as a Governess or a teacher or maybe as secretary to a Society hostess.

  Papa, however, was not young.

  He would find it difficult, nay, impossible to work. Without his horses, his ancestral home, his London Clubs and Social circle, he would be lost.

  Valeria remembered the joy he found in his home. Though it had been in his family for so many years, it had been her Mama who had brought it to life.

  “Some people would call this house a museum,” he had once said to her, “I call it a home.”

  For Valeria the house was imbued with the spirit of her beloved Mama. She knew that it was the same for her father. It would break his heart if the house had to be sold.

  Valeria wished that she could find the man who had brought her Papa to this pass. She would, she declared to herself, see him ruined.

  If this proposal of marriage could save her father, it was her duty to accept it as the least she could do for one who loved her and made her darling mother so very happy.

  Then, remembering how much in love her parents had always been with each other, Valeria wondered how she could bear to marry a man she was not in love with.

  She was not like Juliette, happy to be engaged to someone she liked but did not love, confidently expecting she would find happiness with him.

  That sort of marriage was not wh
at Valeria wanted. Then a picture of her Papa, lost without his home and friends, having to survive on nothing, filled her mind.

  She rose and returned to the house.

  When Papa came back from the stables, she would ask him the name of this suitor.

  If indeed it turned out to be Sir Peter, there would be no problem. Her father would be saved and she would be the happiest girl in the world.

  And if it was not Sir Peter?

  Valeria thought of the various young gentlemen she had been introduced to over the last few years and decided that they were all at least pleasant if not very exciting.

  Several of them were heirs to considerable fortunes. Maybe one had just inherited and now felt able to offer for her and to rescue her father from financial ruin.

  He had always been popular with her friends. The thought that she could stimulate such desire for her hand was exhilarating.

  Yet marriage involved so much more than the odd kiss. A husband had the right to demand she share his bed.

  With a man she loved, she was sure that it would be wonderful – a way of reaching to Heaven.

  But without love? The very thought made her want to scream and run away.

  Valeria tried to steady herself and be resolute.

  To save her beloved Papa, she would surely be able to fulfil her wifely functions? After all, she had liked all of those young gentlemen very much.

  However the more she mulled over the possibilities, the more she became sure that the man who would present himself that evening was Sir Peter Cousins.

  Asking to be told immediately her father returned from the stables, Valeria ran up to her bedroom, where her maid was unpacking her clothes.

  “Mary, I need the prettiest dress I own to be pressed for this evening,” Valeria blurted out.

  The maid, a woman in her forties, who had attended Valeria since before her mother died, smiled,

  “Cook’s in a right state about the meal this evening. She says Sir Christopher has been that pernickety about the menu. And Mrs. Richards is all of a do-da about the table settin’s. Is it the Prince of Wales what’s comin’?”

  Valeria giggled.

  That was one man she was quite certain would not be tonight’s guest – though Papa was on easy terms with the Prince, Princess Alexandra was his devoted wife.

  “No, Mary. Now which dress makes me look most beautiful?”

  A happier hour followed choosing and discarding one dress after another until the bed in Valeria’s room was covered in a rainbow of silks, satins, taffetas and laces.

  “What about your white lace dress?” suggested Mary. “I think there’s never been a gown that suited you better.”

  Valeria looked at it.

  Why had she not chosen to take it to Juliette’s?

  But Mary was right, it was most flattering and, she realised, Sir Peter would not have seen her wear it.

  “Mary, you are a genius. Please press it, will you?”

  The maid disappeared, smiling broadly, and Valeria went downstairs to see if Papa was back from the stables.

  He was nowhere to be found and she realised that it was not going to be possible to ask him for the name of her suitor until after she had dressed for dinner.

  *

  Valeria gazed critically at herself in the long mirror.

  The white lace dress had a closely fitted bodice that showed off her tiny waist. The neckline plunged as low as was suitable for a young girl and the fullness of the skirt softly flowed, accentuated by a satin bow at the back.

  Her Mama’s pearls glowed against her skin.

  There were more pearls in her ears.

  Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head.

  “Oh, Miss Valeria, you’re an absolute picture!”

  “All due to you, Mary. Thank you so much. I am sorry there are so many clothes everywhere.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, miss, you just enjoy yourself with whoever special it is what’s comin’ tonight. And you be sure to tell me all about it later.”

  Valeria closed the door of her bedroom behind her.

  By the time she saw Mary again, she would either be engaged or her father would be forced to sell their home and Mary would have to be dismissed.

  A shudder ran straight through her as she walked downstairs.

  In the hall a footman explained that Sir Christopher was still changing. He had sent a message to say he hoped that if he was not down before their guest arrived, Valeria would do the honours.

  Valeria sighed as she went into the drawing room.

  As she sat and waited, she tried to remember all the good advice her Mama had given her.

  “When meeting anyone, try and make yourself so fascinating they will want to meet you again,” she had said.

  Valeria smiled to herself.

  It seemed she had made herself so fascinating to one particular man that he wanted to marry her. She tried to hold the thought to herself like a fur wrap on a cold day.

  A few minutes later the doorbell rang.

  Valeria stood silently by the empty grate and tried to recognise the voice that murmured a greeting as the door was opened to him.

  Expectation mounted.

  Soon she hoped, Sir Peter would be standing in the doorway, smiling his dashing smile, his eyes alight.

  The door opened.

  Valeria prepared a welcoming smile.

  “Lord Waterford,” announced the footman.

  For a moment she could only stare at the familiar figure that entered the room, a hesitant smile on his face.

  With a sinking heart she took control of herself and came forward, held out her hand and returned his smile.

  “Lord Waterford, what a surprise. How nice to see you. Are you maybe dining in the neighbourhood? I hope my father will soon be here so I can introduce you.”

  She hoped that he did not intend to stay too long as Sir Peter must surely be arriving at any moment.

  The hesitant smile then faded and Lord Waterford cleared his throat nervously.

  “Sir Christopher – that is, we have met. Has he not mentioned the fact?”

  Anxiously his eyes scanned her face.

  Aghast, Valeria understood that here was her suitor.

  Once again Lord Waterford had managed to put her in the wrong.

  She could feel a bright red flush of humiliation rise into her face.

  For a moment she could say nothing.

  She hated to lose control of any situation as much as she hated being put in the wrong.

  “Lord Waterford – I am afraid – that is – ”

  He recovered his poise first.

  “I must apologise. I should not have assumed that your father had told you – my dear Miss Montford, would you perhaps show me his celebrated stables? I am a lover of horseflesh as well.”

  Valeria clutched at this opportunity to recover her badly shaken nerves.

  Visiting the stables in an evening gown was, to say the least, unusual, but looking at horses would give them something to talk about other than offers of marriage.

  “My Lord, I would be delighted,” she replied and led the way out of the drawing room.

  In the hall, Valeria instructed the footman to tell Sir Christopher where they were going, then led the way through the garden door.

  “I have been away for so long that I know there will be changes to my father’s stables,” she said, leading Lord Waterford along the terrace to the stable yard.

  As they entered the long stables with stalls on both sides, she stood still for a moment and breathed in the familiar scent of warm horses, their sweet breath filling the air.

  At the far end of the stalls one whinnied a welcome.

  Heedless of her lace skirt, Valeria ran down.

  “It’s my lovely Annie,” she said over her shoulder to Lord Waterford. “I have been longing to ride her again.”

  She reached the mare and caressed her nose then, as the horse bent its head, scratched between her ears.<
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  “She is charming,” commented Lord Waterford.

  He was standing at Valeria’s side and could easily have been speaking of herself.

  Valeria felt herself caught in an electric current that ran between her and the mare and Lord Waterford.

  Into her mind flashed the memory of that evening in the lake – her body against his as his strong legs drove them both to the safety of the bridge.

  She glanced at him – who would have thought he possessed such strong muscles under his evening clothes.

  Then Valeria became unutterably confused.

  What was she doing in the stables, dressed in lace, with this man who always managed to humiliate her?

  “Let me show you my father’s prize stallion,” she suggested hastily and moved to another stall where a huge black horse threw back his head and snorted.

  “Hush, Saladin,” she coaxed, holding out her hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything for you.”

  The black head was lowered and the horse sniffed at her hand, then blew gently on it.

  Valeria rubbed at his long nose and watched Lord Waterford assess the horse’s powerful body.

  “What a splendid animal.”

  He reached out his hand and patted his neck. The horse regarded him and then bent his head towards him.

  “You have been accepted!” she cried, astonished. “Saladin does not like many strangers.”

  “Are any of his offspring here?”

  “Why, yes.”

  Valeria walked from stall to stall showing off her father’s beautiful horses.

  And she then found, to her complete surprise, that she was enjoying herself.

  Lord Waterford was most interested and asked such intelligent questions that it was a pleasure to be with him.

  She also realised that he had lost the diffidence he had shown on his arrival.

  It was, however, exceedingly difficult for Valeria to accept that he had made an offer for her hand in marriage.

  She brought out a mare he seemed interested in and walked it up and down the cobbled area between the stalls.

  He leaned on one of the stall posts and watched.

  It seemed to Valeria that his gaze was more on her than on the mare.

  She tried to imagine exactly how she looked to him, leading the mare up and down the stables dressed in white lace with pearls glowing on her bare skin.