Love, Lies and Marriage Read online

  “That is the sort of compliment I like,” Sir Hubert smiled.

  “I only wish I had beaten you both,” Teresa said, “but I will manage it another day – you wait and see!”

  They laughed at the determination in her voice and teased her all the way back to the house.

  It was only when she went up to dress for dinner that Teresa suddenly remembered what was to happen tonight.

  It was the Marquis who had said to her father,

  “Things are going so well between the young people that I wish that we could for another day, but after what Charles Graham said, I am frightened that Harry will go back to London tomorrow.”

  “I thought of that,” Sir Hubert replied.

  “I therefore arranged before I left London,” the Marquis went on, “for an actor to arrive tomorrow to play the part of the Priest. I have promised him a lot of money for doing so and of course arranged one of my own carriages to bring him down.”

  “If he is an actor, it would be a mistake for Harry to see him,” Sir Hubert said. “It would be a disaster if he recognised him.”

  “I think that is very unlikely and it was not easy to get a man I could trust not to talk about it. I made it a condition for which I have paid heavily.”

  Sir Hubert sighed.

  “It is so delightful being here. I just wish we did not have to do this.”

  The Marquis looked round the room they were sitting in.

  “Can you imagine this house and estate being run by a woman whose only claim to fame is that she looks attractive behind the footlights?”

  “Camille Clyde is, I believe, a good actress,” Sir Hubert remarked.

  “Mouthing words like a parrot that have been written by somebody very much more intelligent than she is ever likely to be!” the Marquis responded savagely.

  “You are right – of course you are right,” Sir Hubert agreed, “and as you say, we have to save him, so I suppose this is the only way.”

  “I cannot think of any better and by this time on Monday, it might be too late.”

  “Yes, of course,” Sir Hubert sighed.

  *

  Teresa was dressed for dinner when her father knocked on the door.

  As the maid opened it, he said,

  “I thought you would be ready, my dearest, and I wanted to speak to you alone.”

  The maid, who had been helping Teresa, quickly went from the room and shut the door behind her.

  “What – has happened?” Teresa asked a little nervously.

  “Nothing, so far,” her father replied, “but as I told you, the Marquis has an actor who will perform the marriage service and he has taken care to be correct in every detail.”

  Teresa was listening and her father went on,

  “He has even taken out a Marriage Licence, which you know is obligatory for a marriage to be legal.”

  Teresa knew that all this was essential.

  When he learned that he had been tricked, Harry might insist that the marriage was illegal and he could even go so far as to threaten to take it before the Courts.

  If this happened, the Marquis would have to explain that it was in fact only a fake marriage.

  And, as it would be talked about, there would undoubtedly be a scandal.

  As if her father was following her thoughts, Sir Hubert said,

  “What we have to make sure, my dearest, and I am so sorry you have to do this, is that Harry believes it to be completely and absolutely legal.”

  He added somewhat tentatively,

  “He may be angry at being deceived. At the same time there will be no point in him talking about it to Camille Clyde.”

  He paused before going on slowly,

  “In fact, if I am not mistaken, he will accept the situation and, when we are quite sure that he is no longer infatuated with the woman and prepared to forget her, we can tell him the truth.”

  “You – do not – think,” Teresa said hesitatingly, “that if you – talked to him – Papa, and told him – how much it was – upsetting Uncle Maurice – he would give her up of his – own free will?”

  Sir Hubert thought for a moment.

  “He might do,” he said. “Equally he might also say angrily that we were interfering in his private life. In which case he would go straight back to London and marry her, if only to prove himself to be man enough to decide his own future without any interference.”

  Teresa knew that this was a distinct possibility.

  She was well aware, having been with Harry ever since they arrived, that he was a strong and determined man.

  He might be young, but she thought that in some way he was like her father.

  Once he had made up his mind, it would be very difficult to make him change it.

  With a little sigh she said,

  “I am sure that you are – right, Papa, and we – must therefore go ahead, but I don’t – like it!”

  “Nor do I, my dearest one,” Sir Hubert agreed, “but we could not refuse to help the Marquis in what is undoubtedly his darkest hour.”

  “No, of course not,” Teresa replied. “He loves Harry and he loves this magnificent Palace.”

  “And I love you, my precious daughter!” Sir Hubert replied. “I would not have you involved in this if I did not know that it would crucify the Marquis if he thought everything he had worked and strived for these past years was to be wasted on a common woman who would not appreciate it.”

  “Why cannot Harry see that?” Teresa asked him.

  “Men are strange creatures,” her father answered, “and however strong they may seem to be, a clever woman can twist them round her little finger and make them do things which later makes them ashamed and sorry.”

  He was looking at his daughter as he spoke.

  He thought it almost incredible that any man, especially one who had been away from England for so long, should not fall in love with Teresa as soon as he saw her.

  It was not only her beautiful large eyes and the pale gold of her hair that was so attractive.

  There was something else which Sir Hubert recognised was unique about her.

  It was something he knew would be irresistibly attractive to the young gentlemen she would meet in the Beau Monde.

  “No one must ever know about this,” he said in a harsh tone. “It would be disastrous for your reputation that you should be mixed up in anything so sordid.”

  Teresa put her hand over her father’s.

  “Don’t worry, Papa,” she said. “I am sure that when Harry wakes up to reality he will realise, if nothing else, whatever you and Uncle Maurice have done, it is because you love him.”

  Then she added rather unexpectedly,

  “I am sure he misses his mother and, although Uncle Maurice has been wonderful to him, it cannot be quite the same as having your own parents, as I have you.”

  Sir Hubert was very touched by his daughter’s words.

  He bent and kissed her on the cheek.

  “I expect the actor has arrived by now,” he said, “and, when he does come, we will get the Service over. Then we will no longer have to go on talking and arguing about it.”

  The way her father spoke made Teresa aware of how much he disliked having to deceive a young man of whom he was very fond.

  But like the Marquis, he could think of no other way of preventing a marriage, which would undoubtedly be a failure.

  Then Harry’s future would be ruined. When her father left her, Teresa took a last look at herself in the mirror.

  She was wearing a white gown that had been bought by the Countess for her to wear at one of the balls she would be invited to attend.

  It was made of soft white muslin and was exquisitely embroidered on the breast and round the hem with small silk flowers and decorated with glittering diamante.

  There were silver ribbons that crossed over the front and cascaded down the back almost to the floor.

  The diamante shimmered with every move Teresa made.

  On
her head was a wreath of the same silk roses, also glittering with diamante.

  She looked so very young and lovely that she might have been the Goddess of Spring, stepping into the world at the rising of the sun.

  As she went down the stairs, Teresa wondered if Harry would admire her.

  Then some cynical part of her brain told her that he would be thinking of someone with red hair, an actress waiting for him in London.

  In the drawing room she was aware that Sir Hubert had asked the Marquis a question she could not hear.

  He did not reply, but shook his head and it made her think that the actor they were expecting had not yet arrived and to them it might seem a disaster.

  Teresa had a sudden hope that she would be able to ride with Harry tomorrow morning.

  She prayed that he would not be very angry that she had taken part in tricking him!

  “Oh, why – why do I have to do – this?” Teresa asked despairingly as they moved into the dining room.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dinner was nearly finished.

  They were laughing at a joke made by Sir Hubert when the butler came to the side of the Marquis and handed his Lordship a note.

  The Marquis read it and nodded his head. Teresa guessed he was saying that the actor had arrived and she felt her heart give a little throb.

  She realised that she was right when a few minutes later the Marquis said,

  “Before we return to the drawing room, I have a special treat for you all.”

  “What can that be?” Sir Hubert asked.

  “His Majesty gave me a bottle of his special port just before I was leaving London,” the Marquis answered. “He says it is the best he has ever drunk. We have to taste it and tell His Majesty whether he is right or wrong.”

  They all laughed at that because the King never admitted he was wrong in any circumstances.

  The Marquis went over to the sideboard where there was a decanter of port.

  He poured out four glasses.

  Teresa guessed that he put two drops of the drug into Harry’s glass.

  The Marquis then carried them to the table.

  He set a glass down in front of each of the three people waiting for them.

  “Now, what shall be our toast?” he asked.

  “I think it ought not to be to a person,” Teresa suggested, “but to The Palace. I know that many toasts are drunk to it every year and each time Uncle Maurice makes it more beautiful than the year before.”

  The Marquis raised his glass.

  “To Stoke Palace!” he said, “and no heel-taps.”

  He had given Teresa very little port, of which she took just a sip, but she noticed that her father and Harry drank all that was in their glasses.

  She could not help feeling as if there was a sudden silence.

  Not only the two men seemed suspended in time, even the house itself seemed to be waiting to see what would happen.

  With an effort the Marquis went on talking about The Palace, and what further improvements he was planning.

  Both Sir Hubert and Teresa realised that the drug had worked on Harry.

  He was sitting straight up in his chair at the table, as he had done throughout the meal, but now there was a slightly vacant expression in his eyes.

  He was staring ahead of him and not looking at his uncle, who was talking and laughing at his jokes.

  In a voice that trembled, the Marquis said, “Get up, Harry!”

  Obediently, Harry did as he was told.

  The Marquis then said in a voice that did not sound like his own,

  “Let’s go to the Chapel and get it over.” Sir Hubert reached out to take Teresa’s hand and they walked slowly towards the door. “Follow them, Harry,” the Marquis ordered. To Teresa it was frightening to feel that he was just behind her.

  But he was unaware that she or anyone else was there or what they were doing.

  They walked down the long passage leading to the Chapel, which was at the far end of the wing.

  Vanbrugh had also designed the Chapel and Teresa had only glimpsed it when they were going round The Palace.

  Now, as she entered it with her father, she was aware that there were flowers on the altar.

  The Priest, a man in a white surplice, was standing waiting for them in front of it.

  The Marquis, following behind them, realised this was the man the actor had sent him because he could not come himself.

  Sir Hubert drew Teresa towards the steps and they waited there until the Marquis and Harry joined them.

  Then the Service began.

  The Priest was a middle-aged man with his hair just beginning to go grey.

  He had, Teresa thought, a rather uninteresting face and she wondered what parts he played on the stage.

  He had practically learnt the Marriage Service by heart.

  He hurried through it, seldom looking down at the prayer book he held in his hand. Then he came to the responses.

  The Marquis, who was acting as Best Man, prompted Harry.

  Then, when the Priest said, “Now repeat after me,” Harry did so obediently.

  Teresa knew it was foolish of her, but she felt very nervous as she said,

  “I, Teresa Mary Elizabeth, take thee, Edward Alexander to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better, for worse and forsaking all other until death do us part, and thereto I give thee my troth.”

  Harry was handed a wedding ring by the Marquis, which he placed on Teresa’s finger. It was, she thought, a surprisingly good fit and she suspected that it had belonged to his mother.

  When the Priest had joined them as man and wife, they knelt for the blessing.

  It was then that Teresa felt ashamed and embarrassed that they were evoking the blessing of the Almighty on what was in fact a lie and a sham.

  ‘Forgive us, God,’ she prayed. ‘Forgive us for – acting this farce in a – sacred place and please – when he learns of it, let Harry forgive us too.”

  It was a prayer that came from her heart.

  They rose to their feet and on the Marquis’s instructions went to a table in the Chancel.

  The Marriage Register was open for them to sign it.

  Teresa saw there the Special Marriage Licence the Marquis had obtained.

  As she and Harry signed their names, she did not want to think that this was yet another lie.

  It was wrong, but it was something Harry had to see to convince him that their marriage was legal.

  She was glad when the Marquis said,

  “Now, Harry, give your arm to Teresa and lead her down the aisle and out of the Chapel.”

  Stiffly, the way he had moved since he had been drugged, Harry held out his arm, still looking straight ahead.

  Teresa slipped her fingers just inside it and they walked down the aisle together.

  When they reached the door of the Chapel, the Marquis said in a commanding voice,

  “Now take Teresa into the study.”

  Harry turned and did exactly as he was told, Teresa moving silently beside him.

  It was some way to the study, which was an exceedingly attractive room and the Marquis had made it his own private place.

  It was then that Sir Hubert took over.

  He went to his daughter’s side and took her arm away from Harry’s.

  “Go to bed, my darling,” he said. “We will tell you tomorrow what has happened. There is no point in you staying here.”

  “You are – going to tell him – that he is – married?” Teresa stammered.

  Her father nodded.

  When she hesitated, he took her to the door, opened it and put her outside into the passage. “Go to bed, my darling,” he said, and it was a command.

  Because she had always obeyed her father, Teresa did as she was told.

  However, she thought it was wrong of her not to stand beside Harry when he received the shock of learning that he was married.
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  A maid was waiting for her in her bedroom and undid her gown.

  Teresa slipped into the large canopied bed, the maid blew out most of the candles and then left the room.

  There were two candles beside the bed and Teresa lay back against the pillows.

  She was wondering what was happening downstairs.

  She could guess how horrified Harry would be when they told him what they had done.

  At the same time, in order to justify herself, she kept on repeating over and over again,

  ‘It was the – only way that – Papa and Uncle Maurice could – save him.’

  It was a long time before finally she blew out the last two candles and lay completely in the dark.

  Even then, as she tried to go to sleep, the words, ‘save him, save him’ were repeating and repeating in her mind.

  *

  Teresa awoke because a maid was pulling back the curtains.

  It was morning and the sunlight was pouring through the windows creating a golden haze. The maid came to her bedside.

  “’Scuse me, miss,” she said, “but ‘is Lordship asks if you’ll be downstairs in an hour, as ’e’s takin’ you away.”

  Teresa stared at her, thinking she could not have heard right.

  Finally she asked,

  “You said ‘his Lordship’. Do you mean the Marquis?”

  “Oh no, miss,” the maid replied. “I means Master ’Arry’, as they calls him downstairs. ’E’s up already and says I’m to pack your trunk as you’ll be takin’ it with you.”

  Teresa’s head was in a whirl, but she thought it a mistake to question the maid any further. She climbed out of bed and started to dress. When she was nearly ready the maid came in carrying her breakfast.

  “I ’opes, miss,” she said, “I’ve packed everythin’ you’ll be wantin’.”

  “Will you go to my father’s room,” Teresa said, “and tell him I want to see him immediately.”

  “I’ll do that, miss.”

  The maid disappeared and Teresa began to eat her breakfast.

  At the same time she was wondering frantically what had happened.

  A few minutes later Sir Hubert came into the bedroom.

  “Papa – what is happening?” Teresa asked. “I have been told that Harry is taking me away.”

  Sir Hubert closed the door behind him.