The Sign of Love Read online

  Her father had settled down at one of the card tables that had been set up in the drawing room while they were at dinner.

  The train had been shunted into a siding so that they could sleep undisturbed during the night and proceed on their journey early the next morning.

  Sir Charles looked up as Bettina stood beside him.

  “I hope you are not going to watch me play, my dear,” he said. “It would make me nervous.”

  “I can hardly believe that, Charlie,” a man said jokingly from the other side of the table. “I have never known a pretty woman make you nervous yet!”

  “My daughter is different,” Sir Charles replied.

  “And I for one will drink to the difference,” another player remarked. “She is a very lovely girl and just the sort of daughter you should have, Charles.”

  “I think so too,” Sir Charles smiled. “You are going to bed, my dear?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  Bettina bent and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Do I get a kiss too?” his partner asked.

  Bettina smiled at him and dropped a curtsey.

  “I keep my kisses for my father,” she murmured.

  There was a roar of laughter as if she had said something really witty.

  “You will not be saying that this time next year,” someone remarked as she moved away.

  A lady who had already been pleasant to her walked with her into the next coach where their sleeping compartments were located.

  They were exquisitely furnished with comfortable beds, ornate mirrors and washbasins framed with red Morocco leather.

  Each, one, Bettina thought, was like a small doll’s house and, when she went to bed, she found herself thinking again how exciting it all was.

  She had not said ‘goodnight’ to Lord Eustace for she had noticed as she left the drawing room that he was seated in a corner at the far end of it reading a book.

  ‘Why does he not join in with the others?’ she questioned to herself.

  He had sat next to her at dinner, but after they had exchanged a few words, she found it impossible not to listen to the amusing things the other guests were saying, especially her father.

  A great deal of the conversation was naturally quite incomprehensible to Bettina because it concerned other people and she had no idea who they were.

  Even so it seemed to her that everyone was as sparkling as the champagne they drank and only Lord Eustace sat tight-lipped and scowling and making no effort at all to be even pleasant.

  ‘He is deliberately ostracising himself!’ Bettina thought.

  *

  Because she did not wish to miss a moment of the excitement that lay ahead, Bettina was awake as soon as the train began to move smoothly on its journey to Southampton.

  She pulled aside the curtains over the window and saw that it was still dark. She forced herself to lie down again until, when the dawn finally came, she could no longer bear to stay in bed.

  She washed and dressed herself. She had put the white orchids that she had worn the night before in a glass on her washstand. They looked so lovely that she detached one and pinned it at her neck.

  ‘I may never be able to be so grand again,’ she told her reflection with a little smile.

  She went into the drawing room to find that the servants had tidied away the card tables and placed the morning newspapers ready for anyone who required them.

  There were flowers in heavy vases clamped down to prevent them from being upset by the movement of the train.

  There were satin cushions in the comfortable armchairs and on the damask-covered sofa. There were pictures on the walls and the curtains that ornamented the windows were of crimson velvet and very attractive.

  Bettina looked around.

  ‘How lovely to be as rich as this,’ she ruminated, ‘and to have everything one wants.’

  There was a small writing table and she walked towards it to look at the profusion of implements laid on it that might be required for writing a letter.

  The blotter, the pen holder, the pen tray, the letter opener, the magnifying glass and the stamp container were all ornamented with the Alveston crest.

  There was also a leather box containing writing paper and envelopes engraved with the same crest, a griffon with a sheaf of wheat in its hand and a crown on its head.

  ‘Someone has thought out every detail,’ Bettina told herself and then hearing a step behind her she looked round.

  For a moment she could only stare at the man who had just entered. If she thought that her father was impressive, it was nothing to the magnificence of the newcomer.

  He was tall, taller than any other man in the party, broad-shouldered and he had, she thought, the most arresting and at the same time the most unusual face that she had ever seen on a man.

  There was something about him that was awe-inspiring.

  He had such authority and such an air of consequence that she felt it enveloped him like an aura and it would be impossible not to gaze at him however many other men there might be in the room.

  For a moment it seemed as if he too was surprised to see her and then he said,

  “I think you must be Bettina Charlwood.”

  A little belatedly Bettina curtseyed.

  “I am – Your Grace.”

  There was no doubt in her mind who the newcomer was.

  “Then let me welcome you to my party,” the Duke continued. “I think I would have guessed that you are your father’s daughter even if I had not met and admired your mother.”

  “Thank you,” Bettina smiled.

  “You are up very early. I did not expect to find any of my guests awake at this hour.”

  “I was too excited to sleep,” Bettina explained, “and I was admiring the coach. It was difficult to see it properly yesterday when there were so many people in it.”

  “And doubtless an irresistible distraction,” the Duke said.

  He spoke in a slightly dry manner with just a touch of cynicism and she looked at him enquiringly.

  “I believe this is your first party since you left school,” he asked.

  “I would like to thank you very much for inviting me,” Bettina replied. “I never dreamt, I never imagined for a moment, that I should have the privilege of attending the Opening of the Suez Canal.”

  “It is something that interests you?”

  “I have been living in France, Your Grace.”

  “Of course! And I suppose they are very proud of their achievement.”

  ‘They are indeed proud and triumphant, especially as they have proved the British wrong,” Bettina answered.

  The Duke laughed.

  “We can only admit that in this instance we were wrong, completely and absolutely. But personally I have always believed that the Suez Canal was a distinct possibility.”

  “Were you brave enough to say so to Lord Palmerston?” Bettina quizzed him.

  The Duke glanced at her sharply as if he was surprised that she should know of the former Prime Minister’s opposition to the project.

  Then he answered her,

  “As a matter of fact I did make a speech in the House of Lords four or five years ago supporting the scheme. And not surprisingly no one listened.”

  Bettina thought it very unusual that no one would listen to anyone so impressive, but she was too shy to say so.

  The Duke picked up one of the newspapers and she realised that this was his reason for coming to the drawing room.

  Thinking that she must not make a nuisance of herself when he wanted to read, she resolutely sat down at the writing table.

  The only person she could think of who would be really thrilled to know that she was to be at the Opening of the Suez Canal was Madame de Vesarie.

  Accordingly she started a letter to her Head Mistress, very conscious as she did so that behind her, sitting back in an armchair with his legs crossed, the Duke was reading The Times.

  ‘He is magnificent to look at,’ Bettina told
herself.

  She thought perhaps one of the reasons why Lord Eustace disliked his half-brother was that he so easily eclipsed the younger man not only in social standing but also in looks.

  She was just finishing her letter when Lord Eustace came in.

  “Good morning, Varien,” he said with an unmistakably cold note in his voice.

  “Good morning, Eustace,” the Duke replied. “I hope you spent a comfortable night.”

  “Very comfortable, thank you. It made me think of one of the subjects I wish to discuss with you when you can spare the time.”

  “If you intend boring me with your heart-rending stories of the ‘down-and-outs’ or the rabble who sleep under the arches by the river, you can spare your breath,” the Duke answered harshly. “I have my own charities, Eustace, as you have yours, and I have no money to spare at the moment.”

  “How can you say anything like that?” Lord Eustace asked scornfully. “What are you spending on this trip to Egypt, or if you like what we ate and drank at dinner last night, would keep a hundred people in comfort for a year!”

  “I hope, Eustace,” the Duke said in a tired voice, “you are not going to begrudge every piece of food I and my guests put into our mouths or every drop of wine we raise to our lips. And if you think I intend to nearly bankrupt myself as Shaftesbury has done in giving all I have to the poor, you are very much mistaken!”

  “You make me ashamed,” Lord Eustace went on, “ashamed that as a family we do so little for those who suffer through no fault of their own.”

  “Little!” the Duke retorted in a voice of thunder. “If you call – ”

  He stopped.

  “Listen, Eustace, I don’t intend to lose my temper with you or to reiterate, as I have done so often, that charity should not be indiscriminate nor money expended profligately.”

  The Duke’s voice was like a whiplash as he finished,

  “You are my guest and you will behave as one with propriety both towards me and my friends. I want no more of the begging bowl and no sanctimonious sermonising, do you understand?”

  In answer Lord Eustace walked out of the carriage and, without turning round, Bettina heard the rustle of the newspaper as the Duke opened his copy of The Times again.

  She felt her heart thumping and she knew that listening to the row between the two brothers had been both embarrassing and had left her tense in a way that she could not explain to herself.

  She had often heard girls quarrelling, there was plenty of that at school, but she had never heard two men speaking to each other so harshly and bitterly, nor had she so felt an animosity that filled the air because it was obvious that they both disliked each other heartedly.

  Then to her relief her father came into the drawing room.

  “Good morning, Varien,” he said to the Duke and, as he passed the desk, he bent to kiss Bettina’s cheek.

  “You are early, my poppet. That proves you could not sleep out of sheer excitement.”

  “That is true, Papa,” Bettina replied. “I awoke as soon as the train started to move.”

  “I did the same,” Sir Charles said, “and I did not get to bed until late.”

  “Gambling again, Charles?” the Duke enquired. “You know you cannot afford it.”

  “I can afford last night,” Sir Charles boasted with satisfaction. “I won a packet from Downshire.”

  “He can certainly afford it,” the Duke smiled. “But he will never rest until he wins it all back.”

  “That possibility I shall do my best to circumvent,” Sir Charles answered and they both laughed.

  “Let’s have breakfast,” the Duke suggested. “I feel in need of it.”

  There was something in his tone that made Sir Charles look at him sharply.

  “Has something upset you?” he enquired.

  “Only Eustace.”

  “Oh, Eustace,” Sir Charles exclaimed and, then glancing towards Bettina, he added, “a young man who needs the inspiring hand of an understanding woman.”

  Bettina knew that her father’s last sentence was added entirely for her benefit.

  What she did not see was that, as her father spoke, he winked at the Duke.

  Chapter Three

  Bettina struggled along the deck towards the secluded spot that she had discovered where she could be alone and which no one else seemed to know about.

  It was difficult to keep her balance because The Jupiter had run into a rough sea.

  Although there were glints of sunshine between the clouds, the yacht was pitching and rolling uncomfortably, although a sailor would have said that she rode the sea royally.

  Never had Bettina imagined that a yacht could be so comfortable or so glamorous.

  The Jupiter had only recently been delivered and was a screw-propeller Steamer of the type that had just been made fashionable by the Cunard and P. & O. Lines.

  The P. & O. had built The Himalaya that was the largest vessel of its type in the world and its trunk engines had given it a speed of nearly fourteen knots on trial.

  The Duke had announced as they left Southampton that he intended to exceed this record by at least two or three knots.

  His words instantly started his guests betting on each day’s run and Bettina soon realised that the gentlemen would actually bet on anything as long as it provided a challenge amongst them.

  She had, as they moved out to sea, begun to learn a little about the rest of the party, but first she had been fascinated by The Jupiter herself.

  She was told that the Duke himself had chosen every inch of the decorations and designs and they were entirely his own taste.

  She was really amazed that a man could have such brilliant ideas of colour, space and furnishings.

  There was nothing at all over-ornate or in any way superfluous in the Saloon or in the incredibly comfortable bed-cabins and to Bettina everything was not only luxurious but beautiful.

  She loved the Adam green that the Saloon was painted in and the white and gold of the dining room and beyond was the red-walled card room where the gentlemen could smoke and gamble.

  There was also a small writing room where anyone could be alone and quiet, but more importantly this room contained shelves of books that brought Bettina inexpressible delight.

  She loved reading and was quite content while the other ladies gossiped to slip away by herself to read the books from the Duke’s library, which opened new horizons to her that she had never known before.

  Although she had been well-educated in English, French literature and the Classics, Madame de Vesarie had been very particular about the novels that fell into her pupils’ hands.

  Now Bettina had found herself entranced by Dumas and Gustave Flaubert besides other French authors and a number of English as well.

  However this morning, as she struggled down the deck, although she carried a book protected by her oilskins, she wanted to think.

  She hoped that no one would see her because she made a strange figure.

  She wore over her gown a thick warm coat of her mother’s because the wind in the Bay of Biscay already had the November chill in it and over it she had put on an oilskin coat that was intended to be worn by a man.

  She had had some difficulty in obtaining it, but she knew that it was a sensible garment to wear and had asked the maid who looked after her if such a coat was obtainable on board.

  “I’m sure it is, miss,” Rose had answered, “and, as everythin’ be new, you won’t mind wearin’ it.”

  “I don’t think I would mind sharing an oilskin anyway,” Bettina answered.

  She knew, however, that Rose would be shocked at the idea of her putting on anything that had been previously worn by a ‘common sailor’.

  There were twelve guests aboard The Jupiter and as many personal servants to look after them.

  Every gentleman had brought a valet with him and, if Rose was unable to find what she wanted, Bettina had every intention of asking her father’s man, Higgins, who was ade
pt at getting anything that might be required however unusual.

  But Rose, who Bettina learnt was employed in the Duke’s ancestral home in the country, came back with a brand new oilskin that had not even been taken out of its wrappings.

  “Here you are, miss,” she said. “It’s ever so odd you’ll look in it.”

  “It will be better than being soaked to the skin,” Bettina smiled.

  “You shouldn’t be goin’ out on deck, miss, and that’s a fact! None of the other ladies have left their cabins since the storm began.”

  “Are they all seasick?” Bettina enquired.

  “They wouldn’t like to admit it, miss.”

  Bettina laughed.

  “It’s certainly undignified and very unromantic and I am glad I am a good sailor.”

  “You are indeed, miss,” Rose said admiringly. “You’re the only person I’m lookin’ after who has eaten any breakfast and some of the other maids have been up all night attendin’ to their ladies.”

  Bettina felt quite guilty at having slept so peacefully through the storm, but she felt that it would be lovely to go out in the fresh air and she had no desire either to stay in her cabin or sit alone in the Saloon.

  It was also a relief to be free of the drama that was taking place between Lady Daisy and Lady Tatham.

  While they were on the train and on the first day at sea, Bettina had been so beguiled by the dazzling beauty of Lady Daisy and two of the other female guests that she had not really noticed Lady Tatham.

  When she did so, she found her as beautiful, if not more beautiful, than Lady Daisy.

  They were of two very different types. Lady Daisy with her fair hair, blue eyes and Junoesque figure was the prototype of the English rose that the women’s magazines extolled in glowing phraseology and which Bettina was certain was the ideal for most men.

  Lady Tatham, Enid to her friends, was dark with hair that contained blue lights and green eyes that had a slight slant at the corners.

  They gave her a mysterious enigmatic expression that had earned her the nickname of ‘The Sphinx’ and her red lips curved provocatively against a dazzling magnolia skin that somehow made Lady Daisy’s pink-and-white complexion look rather insipid.

  There could be no doubt in anyone’s mind before they left Southampton that the two ladies were rivals for the attention of the Duke.