The Marquis Who Hated Women (Bantam Series No. 62) Read online

  She vanished and the door shut behind her before the Marquis could think of a suitable retort. Rather ruefully he found himself laughing again.

  CHAPTER THREE

  For the first three days Shikara kept to the arrangement they had made.

  She appeared at luncheon and dinner, and as soon as the meal was over she curtseyed to the Marquis and returned to her own cabin.

  Hignet had found her a place up on deck which was out of the wind and where she could sit without getting in the Marquis’s way or even being seen by him.

  At mealtimes she was witty and provocative, and the Marquis, when he went to bed, found himself remembering some of the things she had said and being amused by them.

  He could not remember ever before arguing so fiercely with a woman on abstract subjects.

  He found himself continually in disagreement with her; for instance, when she maintained that women should be allowed to do things without being sponsored or patronised by a man, or that when it came to earning her own living she should be paid the same wages.

  “You will never find any employer who will agree to that,” the Marquis said scornfully. “No woman is as good a workman as a man.”

  “Surely it depends on the type of work they are doing?” Shikara questioned. “Women work in the cotton-factories and although I believe their production from the looms is exactly the same as when they are operated by men, their wages are a quarter of what the ‘superior sex’ earns. It is not fair!”

  “Women are employed because they are cheap,” the Marquis said firmly. “If they proved to be as expensive as men they would never get employment.”

  If he tried to think of arguments to answer her assertions, Shikara for her part spent a great deal of time when she was not with him thinking up subjects with which she could defy him.

  She enjoyed the cut and thrust of debate in a way that she had not been able to enjoy anything for a very long time.

  Being with the Marquis was very different from having to listen to her Uncle lay down the law and allow no-one else to voice an opinion.

  She realised that the Marquis was an extremely intelligent man. What was more, his knowledge was far wider than she had expected in a man who was an outstanding social figure.

  Her experience with the men she had met at the Balls to which her Aunt had taken her, and with those who were entertained in her Uncle’s house, had made her believe that all gentlemen were concerned with nothing but sport, gambling in some form or another, and gossip.

  Ever since childhood she had listened to men who had steeped themselves in the study of history, and because of her father’s prominence in the Archaeological world they had been entertained in every country they visited by Statesmen, historians, and writers, all of whom Shikara had listened to with interest.

  They had travelled so much that her formal education had in fact been patchy.

  “My arithmetic is lamentable!” she told the Marquis frankly, “unless I am dealing in local currency, and I soon become an expert in that! Mama always used to say that I had none of the graces.”

  “What did your mother mean by that?” the Marquis enquired. ‘Without hearing what they are, I am quite prepared to agree she was right.”

  Shikara made a little grimace at him before she answered:

  “Mama was brought up to believe that every woman should play the piano and be prepared to do so after a dinner-party at home. She should also sew, paint in water-colours, and be able to arrange flowers.”

  “And can you do none of those things?” the Marquis asked.

  “Frankly I do not think you would enjoy hearing me play the piano,” Shikara answered. ‘I loathe water-colours even when somebody else paints them. And I would far rather see flowers growing than stick them stiffly out of vases.”

  “And what about sewing?” the Marquis enquired.

  ‘I can do that reasonably well,” Shikara replied, “but I cannot say I find it enjoyable.”

  The Marquis shook his head.

  “I can quite see you are a hopeless case. We shall never get you married.”

  “You can be quite sure of that,” Shikara retorted. ‘I have no desire to be any man’s wife and be treated as if I were a puppet which would not move unless he pulled the strings.”

  “You might find a man stupid enough to treat you as an equal,” the Marquis said provocatively.

  “Meaning he would condescend to me,” Shikara said. “I can assure you I do not want to be patronised by anyone, least of all one of your sex.”

  “I thought at first you were like a tiger-cub,” the Marquis told her, “but I can see now I was mistaken. You are really a porcupine, bristling with pointed quills all over your back!”

  “I think I prefer being a porcupine to the way Uncle Hardwin used to describe me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Like most men, he much preferred horses to women, and he continually referred to me as an ‘unbroken filly’.”

  “I think he had a point there,” the Marquis said.

  Shikara’s eyes flashed in anger, then she laughed. “You are deliberately trying to make me angry! If I really were a tiger-cub, I would doubtless bite you!” The interchange of repartee was however interspersed with entirely serious conversation on Eastern religions, on the many excavations in which her father had been interested, and on speculation as to whether anyone would ever discover the source of the White Nile.

  “Have you ever been up the Nile?” Shikara enquired.

  The Marquis shook his head.

  “I have always intended to visit Cairo,” he said, “but as it happens I seem never to have had the time.”

  Shikara looked at him, and he knew what she was thinking.

  ‘If you are suggesting that this is an excellent opportunity for me to do so,” he said, “forget it. I have every intention of going to Algiers. I have a friend there whom I have not seen for many years.”

  “And you will take me as far as that?”

  “It depends upon your behaviour,” the Marquis replied. “Otherwise I might drop you off at Oporto, or, as you suggested, Gibraltar.”

  “I will be very, very ... good,” Shikara promised. Then as luncheon was finished she rose to leave the cabin.

  She was certainly being little trouble, the Marquis told himself, and although he hated to admit it he rather enjoyed having someone to talk to at mealtimes.

  What was more, she appreciated the food that his Chef produced with a culinary knowledge and an appetite that he had not encountered before in any woman in whom he had been interested.

  Owing to their desire to have small waists, they were usually so tightly laced they were unable to enjoy the large meals that he himself ate.

  And although the older women in Society were very experienced hostesses and undoubtedly instructed their Chefs on what to provide, that was not true of the younger, more frivolous ones.

  The Marquis had thought that much of the food that he ate in the houses he visited was dull and at times inedible.

  He knew that he himself was the exception not in enjoying the lavish table which was to be found in all large houses, but in insisting that any dish served on his own should be prepared with exceptional skill.

  “I want quality, not quantity!” he said continually.

  ‘Shikara is certainly an original little creature,” the Marquis thought, then dismissed her from his mind as he went to the bridge to talk to the Captain.

  “I’m afraid we are going to run into bad weather, My Lord,” the Captain informed him.

  ‘I rather expected the Bay of Biscay to be turbulent at this time of the year,” the Marquis remarked.

  “It looks as if we might have a gale.”

  “In which case I am quite certain the Sea Horse will stand up to it.”

  “Of course, My Lord. I was not doubting that,” the Captain agreed. “But a real gale at this time of the year can be very unpleasant, and we have a lady aboard.”

 
The Marquis nearly replied that he was not concerned with Shikara’s feelings and if she was unwell it would merely serve her right.

  At the same time, he woke up the next morning to find that the Captain’s prediction was only too accurate.

  The sea was whipped by a wind blowing with gale force from the north, which made it extremely rough, and it was almost impossible to keep warm.

  Although the Sea Horse was larger than most yachts, even one the size of the Himalaya would have been uncomfortable in the roughness of the seas they now encountered.

  The yacht certainly pitched and tossed and rolled in a manner which made it extremely difficult to move about and quite out of the question for any food to be prepared.

  Hignet brought the Marquis sandwiches at luncheon-time, carrying them not on a plate, because he was an old hand at dealing with storms at sea, but in a basket so that they would not upset as he struggled down the gangways.

  The Marquis ate his sandwiches, drank a glass of champagne, and as there was no sign of Shikara went back to the bridge.

  He found it fascinating to feel that his yacht was pitting itself against the elements. He was well aware that a great number of small ships and merchantmen perished every year in the Bay.

  But when the great waves broke over the bow of the Sea Horse he thought with elation that he had in fact built a really first class sea-going ship and that however bad the storm might be they would come through unscathed.

  When Shikara did not appear at dinner-time he asked Hignet if Miss Bartlett was all right.

  “I think so, M’Lord,” Hignet answered. ‘I knocked on her door about two hours ago and asked if she would like anything to eat. She told me she was quite all right and required nothing.”

  “She had no luncheon?” the Marquis enquired.

  “No, M’Lord. I asked the young lady if she would like anything to eat, but she said no.”

  “I expect she is feeling sea-sick,” the Marquis said with a smile. “It is hardly surprising. The Captain tells me that several of the crew are totally incapacitated.”

  “You’re fortunate, M’Lord, in the way the sea never affects you,” Hignet remarked.

  “Nor you,” the Marquis answered.

  The dinner had been slightly varied from what he had eaten at luncheon, but it was obviously impossible for the Chef to cook in the galley and therefore everything that was brought to him was cold.

  “I think we shall soon be out of this. At any rate the wind will drop by tomorrow,” the Marquis said.

  “One advantage in having such a fast ship, M’Lord,” Hignet answered, “is that we shall take less time passing through the Bay than we have taken on other occasions.”

  “That is true,” the Marquis said with satisfaction.

  When he was alone he picked up a book; but with the ship doing its best to stand on its head or roll over on its side the Marquis decided he might as well go to bed.

  He walked down the passage and when he came to the door of Shikara’s cabin he hesitated.

  If she was sea-sick, as he suspected, she had not appealed for help or even asked for a glass of brandy, which he usually prescribed in such circumstances.

  After hesitating a moment the Marquis knocked at her door.

  There was no answer and after waiting he turned the handle very softly, thinking she might be asleep.

  One glance at the bed showed him that it was empty. Then he saw Shikara lying curled up on the floor, her hands over her face.

  For a moment he thought that perhaps she had injured herself, and having broken a leg or an arm was unconscious.

  Then as he walked with difficulty towards her, he realised that while her hands covered her face her whole body was trembling.

  “What is the matter?” he enquired.

  He knelt down on one knee beside her and turned her over to see her face.

  “What is wrong?” he asked. “Are you ill?”

  She moved her hands and now her eyes looked up at him. They were very dark, the pupils dilated in a very white face.

  For a moment he stared at her, then he said in astonishment:

  “You are frightened!”

  Shikara made a convulsive murmur, then scrambling onto her knees flung herself at him and hid her face in his shoulder.

  The Marquis’s arms went round her automatically and he sat down on the floor, holding her against him.

  He could feel her trembling, and he realised she was not dressed but was wearing only a nightgown.

  Her body was very slim and immature, and she was trembling in a manner which the Marquis had never previously encountered.

  “It is all right,” he said soothingly.

  “Are ... we going to the ... bottom?”

  He could hardly near the words as they were spoken against his coat.

  “I can promise you that if we do,” he said, “I shall ask for my money back. The Sea Horse was guaranteed as being sea-worthy!”

  He hoped as he spoke that the laughter in his voice would reassure her.

  She did not seem to tremble so violently, but she did not move and her face was still hidden.

  “I ... I am ... afraid,” she said after a moment “I cannot ... help it. I have ... always been afraid in a ... storm.”

  “That is quite understandable,” the Marquis said, “and this is a particularly unpleasant variety. At the same time, Shikara, I can assure you we shall weather it, if that is the right word, and the Captain thinks that by tomorrow the wind will be dropping.”

  He realised as he spoke that she was holding on to the lapel of his coat in a grip that was almost frantic. Now her fingers loosened slightly and he felt a little sigh of relief run through her.

  “I am ... ashamed,” she said after a moment.

  “It’s all right,” he said soothingly. “It’s quite understandable in—a woman!”

  There was a pause before the last two words and Shikara made a little choked sound that was almost a laugh.

  “Of course,” the Marquis went on, “I am delighted to find that under that aggressive, independent exterior you have in fact a distinctly feminine streak. You are afraid, Shikara, and at the moment you are clinging to me exactly as any normal woman would cling in the circumstances.”

  He felt her whole body stiffen, then she looked up at him to say:

  “Th ... that is not ... cricket ... you are ... hitting below the belt!”

  “I am certainly not behaving as a gentleman should,” the Marquis answered, “but you have told me so often that you want to be on equal terms with a man.”

  Shikara made an effort as if she would move away from him, but at that moment the ship gave a violent lurch which seemed to make the whole vessel shake and rattle.

  With a little murmur she put her face back against the Marquis and her fingers closed tightly on his lapel.

  The Marquis smiled. Then he said:

  “I think you are feeling things are worse than they really are, simply because you have had nothing to eat or drink. I am going to help you into bed, Shikara. Then I am going to insist that you have something to eat and a glass of champagne to drink, if Hignet can possibly carry it here.”

  “It is ... too ... too much trouble,” Shikara whispered.

  He knew she was making an effort to reply to the matter-of-fact tone of his voice.

  “I was always taught that nothing is too much trouble where a woman is concerned,” the Marquis remarked. “After this, Shikara, I shall be quite certain that you are a woman and not, may I say, in the least masculine.”

  With some difficulty he managed to help her to the bed, and she crept into it to pull the bed-clothes over her, looking up at him with wide and still-frightened eyes.

  The Marquis sat down on the mattress facing her.

  As he did so he felt her hand clutching his and holding on to him as if he were a life-line which would save her from drowning.

  “I am going to ring for Hignet,” he said. “He has much more experience t
han I have at moving about in a storm, and if you would like me to I will stay here with you, Shikara.”

  “P-please ... stay.”

  He could hardly hear the words, but her eyes were fixed on his face and he knew what she wanted without words.

  It was an hour later before Shikara, having had something to eat and drink, was definitely feeling sleepy.

  ‘If you are afraid in the night,” the Marquis said, “you have only to shout loud enough and I shall hear you; or if you ring for Hignet he will come. I promise that neither of us will fail you.”

  “That’s right, Miss,” Hignet said. “I’ll not undress in case the master wants me. Besides, one or two of the crew have nasty cuts and bruises, and there may be a dozen more for me to attend to before the night’s out.”

  ‘I forgot to tell you that Hignet is a very experienced nurse,” the Marquis said. ‘I think really he should have been a doctor.”

  Hignet grinned at the compliment.

  “I never travels without my medicine chest,” he boasted, “and it’s a good thing I brought it on this voyage, M’Lord. I shall have to replenish my bandages and plasters when we get to the next port of call.”

  “I can always rely on you in an emergency, Hignet,” the Marquis said.

  The valet withdrew and the Marquis released Shikara’s hand and put it under the bed-clothes, then pulled the sheets up under her chin.

  “Go to sleep, Shikara,” he said. “It will be better tomorrow, I promise you, and try not to be frightened. I know you do not think much of my opinion on many subjects, but I assure you that in choosing a yacht which will carry us to safety I am in fact unequalled!”

  “Thank you for being so ... kind.”

  There was something very wistful in the words and in the way for the moment her defiant spirit seemed to have left her.

  “I ... I am sorry to be such a ... nuisance when I promised I would not be,” she added.

  “You are being feminine,” the Marquis replied. “As I told you before, all women are a damned nuisance—which is why I hate them!”