Love, Lies and Marriage Read online

  “I did not know that he intended to leave so early,” he said, “otherwise I would have come to you sooner.”

  “Tell me, Papa, what all this is about,” Teresa pleaded.

  Sir Hubert sat down in a chair.

  “We waited nearly two hours last night,” he began, “before Harry recovered from the drug. At first he seemed dazed, but then he said, ‘I have a headache. Why am I in here?’”

  “Then? Then you – told him?” Teresa asked. “The Marquis told him that to save him from marrying a woman whom he would never accept at The Palace, he had been married to you. He produced the papers to prove it.” Teresa drew in her breath.

  “And – what did – Harry say?” she asked.

  “At first he seemed stunned,” Sir Hubert replied, “and I think he was still under the influence of the drug. Then he said, ‘you might have trusted me.’”

  “I felt sure that is what he would say,” Teresa explained, “and he was hurt that Uncle Maurice had not done so.”

  “We both tried to explain why, if we had not interfered, he would have married Camille Clyde.”

  “Did he say that was – what he – might have done?” Teresa asked.

  “He listened to what we had to tell him,” her father replied. “Then he went towards the door.

  “‘I shall leave here tomorrow morning,’ he said in a voice I have never heard him use before. ‘Where are you going?’ the Marquis asked. ‘To my own house, where I belong,’ Harry replied.”

  Sir Hubert sighed before he finished,

  “And that, my dearest, is where you will be going now.”

  “But – where is it? – Do I have to – go with him?” Teresa asked in a frightened voice.

  “Bourne Hall, which is where Harry’s family lived, is only about six miles from here,” Sir Hubert answered, “and I think, my beloved daughter, you must be brave and accompany him, as he wishes you to do.”

  He thought Teresa was going to protest and he added quickly,

  “I am half afraid Harry might, because he is angry, do something stupid, and what is more important than anything else, is that this is not talked about by anybody or is written about in the newspapers.”

  Teresa realised what a mistake that would be and she said,

  “If you want me to – go with Harry, I will do so, Papa – but it is rather – frightening.”

  “I know it is, my darling, but I think that, when Harry realises what we have done was only to help him, he will bring you back here. It was impossible for either his uncle or I to talk to him last night.”

  He paused for a moment before he continued,

  “And to make sure we did nothing of the sort, he locked himself in his bedroom.”

  Without speaking, Teresa rose, walked to the window and stood looking out at the Park bathed in sunshine.

  After some minutes her father said,

  “I know we are asking a great deal of you, but, as you are well aware, one’s plans, if they are important enough, seldom run as smoothly as one hopes.”

  “What you are saying, Papa,” Teresa said after a moment’s silence, “is that I asked you that I might work with you and this is the opportunity to prove my ability to do so.”

  “I had not thought of it quite like that,” Sir Hubert answered, “but it is in point of fact, if you wish to put it that way, a test of your ability.”

  “Then I can only hope I am successful,”

  “Just as you would be if you were in my position.”

  She turned and, picking up the hat that matched her gown, put it on her head.

  As her father watched her, there was a knock on the door and the maid came in.

  “I’ve packed your things in the trunk, miss,” she said. “Can I put your brushes and combs in your other case?”

  “Yes – of course, please do,” Teresa replied.

  She looked up at her father.

  He rose to walk into the boudoir, which was next to her bedroom.

  When they were alone again, he said,

  “You are very very brave, my darling, and I am extremely proud of you. But there is something I have to say which you must listen to carefully.”

  “I am listening, Papa.”

  Sir Hubert was finding it hard to choose his words.

  Then he said,

  “If by any chance, Harry attempts to take advantage of the fact that he believes himself to be your husband, you must then of course tell him the truth.”

  For a moment Teresa did not quite understand what her father was implying.

  Then, as the realisation of it dawned on her, she blushed before she answered.

  “I-I am quite certain, Papa, that if Harry is angry with you and – Uncle Maurice – he will be – equally annoyed with – me.”

  “In a few days,” Sir Hubert said hastily, “I feel sure we will be able to tell him that the whole thing was a hoax.”

  “But supposing,” Teresa said in a small voice, “he then – decides – to go – straight to London to – marry Camille Clyde?”

  “The Marquis has thought of that,” Sir Hubert replied, “and he will be keeping a close watch on the actress to find out what her feelings are in the matter or if she is still pursuing Harry.”

  He put his hand on Teresa’s shoulder and drew her a little closer to him as he added,

  “I know this is asking a great deal of you, but try to keep things going until we are certain that Harry is out of the woods.”

  “I will try – Papa, I really – will try,” Teresa promised.

  Sir Hubert kissed her and he said,

  “I am so proud of you and you are behaving exactly as I would want my daughter to behave in an emergency, whatever it might be.”

  *

  It was only a little later that Teresa walked down the stairs.

  Her father might indeed think that she was brave, but if she was truthful she knew she was very frightened.

  The servants had informed her that his Lordship was waiting for her in a phaeton.

  As they reached the front door, she could see him outside.

  With his tall hat a little to one side of his head, he was sitting upright in the driving seat and there was a groom behind.

  The other side of the open cover of the phaeton was not raised.

  “I told Harry to take my phaeton,” Sir Hubert said beside Teresa, “because his uncle requires it.”

  He lowered his voice as he carried on,

  “The Marquis intends to travel to London either today or tomorrow to find out what that woman is doing.”

  There was no sign of the Marquis.

  Teresa kissed her father goodbye and went down the steps and Rufus followed her.

  He had slept on her bed, as he always did and followed her from there into the boudoir and he was now scampering in delight at being out in the open.

  A footman assisted Teresa up onto the high seat next to Harry and Rufus jumped up after her and she settled him beside her.

  She felt that he was some kind of protection against Harry’s anger.

  Without even turning his head in the direction of the front door, Harry drove off.

  Teresa waved to her father, who waved back as they went down the drive.

  She guessed that while they had been in the boudoir, her luggage and Harry’s had gone ahead.

  A Brake was usually reserved for the servants and she was sure Harry’s valet would be in it. She had an idea that Harry’s home, Bourne Hall, had been closed during the war. She could, however, not be certain and did not like to ask questions.

  They drove in complete silence.

  Harry was tooling the reins with an expertise, which she had only seen when her father was driving.

  The horses pulling the phaeton were a perfectly matched pair of chestnuts and Teresa had an idea that it was her father who had contributed them to the Marquis’s stable. They drove on and on.

  Teresa was longing to speak to Harry. Even if he abused her it was better th
an a stony silence.

  When she glanced at him from under her eyelashes, she saw that his lips were set in a hard line.

  His chin was very square.

  She told herself that he was very very angry and she felt a little quiver of fear run through her.

  The sun was shining and it was growing hotter when finally she thought they must have been getting nearer to Bourne Hall.

  They had moved off the main highway into a narrow lane and were forced to slow their pace.

  The lane twisted and turned and could quite obviously be dangerous if the horses moved at speed.

  They passed a wood on the other side of the lane, which made a welcome shade from the heat of the sun.

  Then they came suddenly to a clearing. There were no hedges, but a copse on the other side of it.

  Harry was now moving his horses slowly and Teresa guessed that if he could have his way he would have travelled faster.

  Then from behind some tall trees a horseman came riding towards them.

  Teresa glanced at him and then she gave a little gasp.

  He was wearing a mask and had a pistol in his hand and there was another in the sash around his waist.

  He rode his horse straight into the middle of the road and Harry was forced to pull his team to a standstill.

  “Stand and deliver!” the rider commanded in a thick voice with a coarse accent, “and I’ll take your ’orses for a start!”

  Harry put out his right hand towards the pistol, which was in the pocket beside him.

  As he moved, the highwayman fired.

  He aimed at Harry’s chest, but, because he was bending sideways, the bullet hit him in the arm.

  Teresa gave a shriek and the horses started at the sound of the pistol shot.

  It did not, however, disturb the highwayman’s horse.

  Then Rufus barked.

  The highwayman had to hold in his horse, which reared, while Teresa saw he was grasping for the other pistol in his sash.

  She knew it was to shoot at Harry again, but, before he got hold of it, she put her arm behind Rufus.

  She snatched the second pistol that her father had told her was in the other pocket.

  Without thinking and with a swiftness that the highwayman did not anticipate, she shot him in the chest.

  He gave a shrill cry and fell backwards in the saddle.

  As he did so, the groom behind them jumped down from his seat and climbed up beside Harry.

  “I’ll drive, my Lord,” he said.

  As if he had been wondering how he could manage, Harry moved towards Teresa.

  He was holding his hand over his arm where the bullet had entered it.

  “Drive on!” he ordered.

  Teresa then had a last glimpse of the highwayman’s horse galloping between the trees.

  His master had fallen backwards on the saddle. He was kept there only because his feet were in the stirrups.

  The groom obeyed Harry, moving the horses as quickly as he could along the narrow lane ahead.

  Teresa put her arm around Harry’s shoulder to support him and his injured arm.

  He rested against her and he did not speak. She knew he was in pain and, although she tried to keep him upright, it was very difficult.

  As if she had asked the question, he said after a moment,

  “I am all right and we have not – far to go now – only about two miles.”

  The lane opened out onto a better road and the horses were able to move at a faster pace.

  Teresa tightened her arm around Harry as she realised he was slipping down lower in the seat.

  Blood was trickling over his hand.

  “You would not like to stop?” she asked him.

  “No – get me – home!” he managed to say with what she knew was an effort.

  They moved on, increasing their speed until with a leap of her heart Teresa saw some large gates ahead of her.

  The groom turned in at them and they were moving swiftly up a drive.

  At the end there was an attractive redbrick house that Teresa thought must be Elizabethan.

  As they drew nearer she could see that she was right.

  There were diamond-paned windows and the house itself was built in the shape of an ‘E’.

  By this time the blood on Harry’s hand had increased and was running onto the rug that covered Teresa’s gown.

  At last the front door came in sight.

  As the horses came to a standstill she saw with relief that there were two men waiting for them, one of them Harry’s valet.

  The groom brought the horses to a standstill and just for a moment, the two men waiting for them stared in astonishment.

  It was then that Banks, Harry’s valet, came running down the steps.

  “There has been an accident,” Teresa cried. “You will have to help his Lordship out, but be careful of his arm.”

  “I’ll see to it, my Lady,” Banks replied.

  The way he had addressed her told Teresa that the news of their marriage would have already reached Bourne Hall.

  It was with some difficulty that Banks and the other man, who had white hair, lifted Harry out of the phaeton.

  They were almost carrying him up the steps into the house.

  Teresa was about to join them when an old man appeared and went to the horses’ heads. It was then that the groom said,

  “I’d best see to ’is Lordship.”

  He jumped down and ran after the two men carrying him.

  Carefully Teresa reached the ground with Rufus following her.

  She could not help thinking that it was Rufus who was the hero of the occasion.

  If he had not barked loudly and frightened his horse, the highwayman might have fired a second bullet at Harry.

  It could have killed him.

  The mere thought of it made Teresa give a frightened shiver.

  She walked up the steps and into the hall.

  As she did so, she knew that she was glad, more glad than she could put into words – that Harry was alive!

  CHAPTER SIX

  When Teresa walked into the hall, she realised that the house looked very unlived in.

  Through an open door she could see into what she thought must be the drawing room.

  All the furniture was covered in Hollands and the blinds were half-drawn.

  She started to go upstairs to follow Harry, who was now out of sight.

  As she reached the landing, an elderly woman came hurrying towards her.

  She curtsied saying,

  “I’ve just heard the news, my Lady, that you’re married to his Lordship. I wish you both all the happiness in the world – but is he hurt?”

  “He has been shot in the arm,” Teresa explained.

  The woman gave a cry of horror before she said,

  “I must see him at once! I should explain, my Lady, I’m his Lordship’s Nanny, but I’ve retired to a cottage in the grounds.”

  “Then I am sure, Nanny, you are the one person we need at this moment,” Teresa said. “I am trying to find out how to send for the doctor.”

  “Mr. Dawson’ll see to that,” Nanny answered. “I’ll tell him you want him.”

  Nanny hurried away towards the room at the end of the passage and Teresa thought that it must be the Master suite.

  She felt that, with Banks and Nanny tending to Harry, there would be nothing for her to do.

  It would be best for her to concentrate on sending for the doctor as she stood hesitating whether to stay upstairs or go down.

  Then the man with grey hair whom she now knew to be the butler came hurrying towards her.

  “Nanny tells me, my Lady,” he said, “that you want to send for the doctor.”

  “I think we should have one immediately,” Teresa replied.

  “I’ll see to it, my Lady.”

  He went down the stairs and Teresa followed him.

  By the time she had reached the hall, he had disappeared.

  She looked in
to the drawing room and then into a room next to it, which she realised was the library.

  She could see that the rooms were very attractive with their diamond-paned windows, but all the furniture was covered up.

  It was therefore difficult to imagine what the house had been like when Harry’s mother and father had lived there.

  Dawson came back.

  “I’ve sent for the doctor, my Lady,” he said. “He lives at the end of the village.”

  “Thank you,” Teresa said. “I understand you are the butler.”

  “So I was, my Lady,” Dawson replied to her, “but since his Lordship and her Ladyship was killed, there be only me and Mrs. Dawson to do everything.”

  Quite suddenly, almost as if her father was guiding her, Teresa knew what she must do. This was Harry’s home and, because he was angry, he had come here like a little boy running for comfort to his mother and had been injured in the process.

  Aloud she said,

  “You were here at the time his Lordship’s parents were alive?”

  “I’ve been here nigh on thirty years, my Lady,” Dawson said, “but things has been very dull and quiet with the house empty.”

  “Then what we must do now,” Teresa said, “is to restore everything to how it was when his Lordship’s parents were here.”

  Dawson stared at her and she went on,

  “I imagine you had some footmen here to help you?”

  “Three, my Lady.”

  “I am sure there must be young men in the village who are looking for work.”

  Dawson gave a gasp and she continued,

  “And, if your wife is the cook, she will need two or three women to help her in the kitchen and of course a scullion.”

  She paused for a moment before she added,

  “As his Lordship’s Nanny is here, I am sure she will know how to train housemaids who have not been in service before.”

  Dawson nodded.

  “Then tell her to engage three girls from the village,” Teresa said.

  Dawson was standing as if mesmerised, but at last he spoke,

  “I can hardly believe what I’m hearing, my Lady. It’s indeed something I thinks would never happen again.”

  There was a break in his voice and Teresa saw that there were tears in his eyes.

  “This is his Lordship’s home,” Teresa said quietly, “and when he is well enough to come down the stairs, he must find it exactly as it was when he was a boy.”