Diona and a Dalmatian Page 7

  “Ring the bell, Roderic.

  “I hope,” he went on to Diona, “as you will be staying here you will give my nephew and me the pleasure of dining with us?”

  He had expected her to accept with alacrity, as she had accepted his invitation to stay, but to his surprise she hesitated a moment before she said,

  “Would that be the – right thing for – me to do?”

  “The right thing?” the Marquis queried.

  “I – I am sure kennel maids do not – dine with their employers.”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “You are somewhat of an unusual kennel maid, Diona, and may I bring to your notice that you are not yet employed by me? So I think that on this occasion at any rate it would be quite in order for you to accept my invitation.”

  Diona considered what he had said before she replied,

  “Thank you, My Lord. I am very honoured to be your guest.”

  “I keep London hours,” the Marquis said, “and dine at eight o’clock. I expect you would like to rest for a little while before we meet in the Blue Drawing Room a quarter-of-an-hour before dinner. You will be shown the way.”

  “Thank you, my Lord.”

  As she spoke the door opened and Dawson appeared. “You rang, my Lord?”

  “Yes, Dawson. Miss Diona will be staying here for tonight. Put her in the Dolphin Room. She has, I understand, some belongings which she left in the bushes on the other side of the bridge.”

  Dawson’s expression did not alter, nor did he appear in the least surprised, as he replied impassively,

  “I’ll have it fetched, my Lord.”

  “Ask Mrs. Fielding to look after Miss Diona,” the Marquis said, “and she will be dining with Mr. Roderic and me.”

  Dawson bowed his head to show that he understood his instructions, and Diona curtseyed.

  “Thank you, my Lord,” she said. “Thank you very, very, much.”

  The note of gratitude in her voice was inescapable, and the Marquis noticed that some of the fear had gone from her eyes.

  As he watched her turn and follow Dawson from the library, he was wondering why she was in hiding, what she had done to bring her to this situation, and he no longer felt as bored as he had been earlier in the day.

  Then as the door shut, Roderic jumped up from the chair to throw a cushion in the air and say with a whoop of joy,

  “ I have won! I have won! Nobody – and I repeat nobody – will be able to produce anything half so pretty”

  Then as he caught the cushion and replaced it in the chair he added,

  “Thank you, Uncle Lenox! I always knew you were a sportsman, but now I am prepared to drink your health a thousand times and say there is nobody like you. “

  “I am very gratified,” the Marquis said drily.

  “I was terrified for one moment she would walk out on me,” Roderic said, “but then you cleverly warned me that of course she is respectable. I never would have thought of it myself.”

  “Of course she is respectable!” the Marquis said sharply. “And what is more, I doubt if she has ever heard of a ‘Cyprian’ or a ‘bit o’ muslin,’ and even if she had, she would not have the slightest idea what they are.”

  Roderic stared at him.

  “Do you mean that?”

  “I think, Roderic, you must learn how to judge people for what they are, and not what they appear.”

  “But she is on her own. She comes here unchaperoned and asks to see you, and wishes to be engaged as a kennel maid. What am I supposed to think?”

  The Marquis did not reply for a moment.

  Then he said,

  “I think you must reason that out for yourself. I am only warning you, Roderic that she has obviously run away to hide. If you frighten her as you did when you talked about the party which would be given at this rather debatable contest, she will run away again!”

  Roderic gave what was almost a cry of protest.

  “I cannot allow her to do that!”

  “Then be careful what you say and even more careful how you behave.”

  Roderic considered this for a moment before he replied,

  “If she is as respectable as you are saying she is, she is not going to like meeting Watson’s nominee, who will undoubtedly, from the way he described her, be what the French call a ‘Courtesan.’ “

  He did not wait for his uncle to comment but went on almost as if he were talking to himself.

  “Although I have never been to Paris I have heard about them. They are a cut above the ordinary fille de joie and expect to be covered in orchids and diamonds by any man who is rich enough to afford them.”

  Because he suddenly remembered to whom he was speaking, he said,

  “Why am I telling you all this? You have been to Paris and know what I am talking about.”

  The Marquis, who had been listening with his eyes twinkling, said,

  “May I suggest that the equivalent of a French ‘Courtesan’ does not really exist in England, and Watson was well aware of this when he challenged a lot of inexperienced and rather stupid young men who would not have the least idea of what they were up against!”

  “Damn him!” Roderic exclaimed. “I call that cheating!”

  “Actually, it is a shrewd bit of crookery.”

  Roderic threw himself petulantly down in a chair. Then he asked,

  “Are you saying that we none of us have a chance in hell of beating Watson?”

  “I think, on the contrary, that you have every chance,” the Marquis answered. “In fact, unless the judges are bribed – and I should make sure they are not under Watson’s thumb – Diona would eclipse any French ‘Courtesan’!”

  Roderic, alert and eager, again sat up. “Do you mean that, Uncle Lenox?”

  “I seldom say what I do not mean,” the Marquis replied loftily.

  “Then I must persuade her,” Roderic said, “or rather you must!”

  “I have nothing to do with it,” the Marquis protested.

  “But you must help me, and you know as well as I do that any woman will do anything you want, even jump over a cliff, if you beg her to do so!”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “Is that my reputation?”

  “Of course it is! What was it Edward said the other day about you – ‘Invincible in war, invincible in bed!’”

  As he spoke, Roderic looked at his uncle and saw the frown between has eyes, and added quickly,

  “I am only telling you what Edward said, so it is no use being angry with me. Please, Uncle Lenox, you know we have somehow to defeat that ghastly Sir Mortimer, otherwise you will hear him crowing up and down St. James’s Street for the rest of the year.”

  “That is a situation that must be avoided at all costs!” the Marquis remarked. “At the same time, it would be a mistake to be over-confident. Not that Diona would not win, but that she may not agree to take up the part.”

  He did not hear his nephew’s reply but walked from the library as he spoke.

  As he moved along the corridor towards the hall, his lips, which were often set in a hard line, were twisted in a faint smile which, to those who knew him well, meant that he was definitely amused.

  Chapter Four

  As Diona came down the stairs for dinner she felt as if she were taking part in a Play.

  Although her mother had often described to her the beautiful houses she had visited as a girl and where sometimes she and her husband had stayed, it was not the same as actually seeing anything as impressive and magnificent as Irchester Park.

  Although Diona’s bedroom was not one of the Staterooms, it was very comfortable and very attractive.

  The bed had a round canopy above the centre of it, and the curtains which came from it were tied with silver ropes at each of the four posts.

  She had looked round her with delight, and the elderly housekeeper had said in what Diona knew was an extremely disapproving voice,

  “I understand, Miss, that your luggage consists of o
nly what is contained in this shawl.”

  As she spoke, Diona saw that a footman had just handed it in through the door to a younger maid who was wearing a lace-trimmed mobcap with an apron to match.

  “I am afraid I am travelling very light,” Diona said, and I was not able to bring a trunk with me.”

  Mrs. Fielding pressed her lips together, and Diona said apologetically,

  “I had to leave home in rather a hurry.”

  Then, because she felt it was not the Housekeeper’s business, she put up her chin and said in a tone which she was sure her mother would have used,

  “It is very kind of you to look after me, and this is the loveliest house I have ever seen.”

  She thought Mrs. Fielding relaxed a little. Then she said with a different note in her voice,

  “Are you intending for your dog to sleep here with you, miss?”

  “Yes, of course,” Diona replied, “and I promise you he will not be any trouble and is perfectly housetrained.”

  The Housekeeper sniffed, as if she thought that was unlikely, and Diona added,

  “ I have had him ever since he was a puppy. He looks after me, and if robbers tried to break into my room I assure you he would be most ferocious!”

  She thought the housekeeper looked at her in a strange manner, but then she smiled.

  “I think it’s very sensible of you, miss, to have him with you,” she said. “Emily will look after you. Please ask for anything you require.”

  With that she swept from the room almost as if she were a Queen, and Diona wanted to laugh.

  While Emily was helping her to change from what she was wearing into the muslin gown she had brought with her, together with a shawl, Diona kept wishing that her mother were with her so that they could laugh together at everything and also admire the contents of the Marquis’s house.

  “I hope I shall have a chance of seeing the paintings and everything else,” Diona said beneath her breath, and sent up a little prayer that the Marquis would agree to employ her and she would be able to stay here.

  When she thought about it, she was very apprehensive about what Mr. Nairn was suggesting to her.

  How could she possibly go to London and attend the sort of party he had described?

  Although she was very vague as to what it entailed, she knew it was something that her mother would have forbidden her to do.

  She thought too that his plan complicated everything.

  All she wanted to do was to work in the kennels with the Marquis’s dogs and be quite certain that her uncle would never find her there.

  In London there might be all sorts of pitfalls, and if somebody should recognise her it would be disastrous.

  The whole idea was terrifying.

  At the same time, it was a great relief to know that she had somewhere to stay at least for tonight, and to know that not only she but also Sirius would be well fed and it would cost her nothing.

  After she had explained to Emily what Sirius had for his supper, she went downstairs while Diona was washing and then came back with a bowl of freshly cut-up meat, which made Sirius jump with joy.

  Because Diona was so frightened that he might do anything to annoy Mrs. Fielding, she spread a towel on the carpet before Emily put down the bowl.

  However, she was certain that as Sirius was a very tidy eater, there would be no cause for complaint.

  It was only after she had rested a little and was putting her muslin gown back on that it struck her that the Marquis and Mr. Nairn would be in evening-dress.

  While her muslin gown was very pretty, it was not really what her mother would have thought suitable for the evening.

  ‘I suppose I should have refused to dine with him,’ Diona thought apprehensively, ‘and asked instead if I could have a tray in my bedroom.’

  She knew that would have been very dull, and it was in fact far more exciting to dine with the Marquis. She was certain his company would be very different from that of her uncle.

  Sir Hereward always, as if by right, monopolised the conversation in the dining room at the Hall.

  It usually concerned something that had irritated him in the county or on the estate, and he would talk about it throughout every course, expecting nothing more than an occasional murmur of acquiescence from the other people seated at the table.

  Diona could remember the amusing subjects her father and mother had discussed and how they had argued just for the joy of sharpening their wits against each other.

  Her father had always encouraged her to join in.

  “If there is one thing I cannot stand,” he had said once, “it is young girls with vacant faces thinking only of how much food they can stuff into their mouths.”

  “You have never known your daughter like that!” Diona’s mother had expostulated, laughing.

  “I want her to be like you, darling,” her father had replied, “pretty and so much more amusing than any other woman I have ever met.”

  “I love to hear you say that,” her mother had replied, “but give Diona a chance. She is very young, and she has not travelled as you have or begun yet to live her life fully.”

  “She will learn,” her father had replied. “In the meantime, talk! I hate bells that do not ring, birds that do not sing, and women who have nothing to say!”

  They had all laughed at that.

  Then when Diona had gone to live at the Hall, because nobody listened to her, she used to think of her father and have imaginary conversations with him.

  ‘Now,’ she thought, ‘even if I do not have a chance of saying very much, at least I shall have somebody interesting to listen to.’

  The Marquis might be frightening, in fact she thought he was very frightening, but at the same time she was sure that anything he had to say would be worth hearing.

  She would certainly rather listen to him than to Mr. Nairn.

  Dawson was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and she thought, although she was not sure, that he looked a little disparagingly at her simple muslin gown.

  Because after she had bought it she thought it looked cheap, she had asked the seamstress who worked at the Hall to add a frill of real lace that came from one of her mother’s gowns.

  It encircled her shoulders and joined in the front with ribbons she also added which were of blue satin and had come from Paris.

  She had enough of the same lace to make a wide frill round the hem, and while the dress as not like an elaborate evening gown in the manner of those illustrated in ‘The Ladies’ Journal,’ it was, Diona thought, definitely very pretty.

  The Blue Drawing Room, into which she was shown, had a crystal chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling with what appeared to be hundreds of lighted candles on it.

  It made the whole room glow with a soft light.

  Everything seemed somehow to shine and glitter in a way that lifted Diona’s heart and made her feel it was a prelude to something exciting.

  Then as she walked over the soft Aubusson carpet towards the end of the drawing room, she saw that standing by the fireplace, which because it was summer was filled with flowers, were the Marquis and Roderic Nairn.

  They each held a glass of champagne, and as they turned towards her she realised how magnificent the Marquis looked.

  He was even grander than her father had been when he was going to a Hunt Ball or out to dinner with somebody important in the county.

  His white cravat was tied in an intricate fashion that Diona was sure was new. It was snowy white against his slightly sun-tanned skin, and the points of his collar were high above it.

  His long cut-away coat fitted without a wrinkle, and she knew that he was wearing the new ‘drain-pipe’ pantaloons.

  These had been invented by the Prince Regent to save gentlemen on less-formal occasions from having to struggle into silk stockings and satin knee breeches.

  Roderic Nairn looked smart, but the Marquis wore his clothes more casually, as if they were part of him and he was supremely
unconscious of them.

  Neither gentleman spoke as she advanced towards them, and only as she reached the Marquis and dropped a small curtsey did he say,

  “Good-evening, Diona! I hope you have been properly looked after?”

  “Everybody has been very kind, and Sirius would like to thank you for a delicious dinner.”

  Sirius, upon hearing his name mentioned, wagged his tail, but he kept just behind Diona, as if at their new place he was on guard and determined to protect her.

  “Sirius is a strange name for a dog!” the Marquis remarked.

  “Strange?” Diona queried. “Your Lordship must be aware that Sirius was the name of Orion’s dog, who followed him in his favourite sport of hunting.”

  The Marquis raised his eyebrows.

  He was well aware of the Homeric origin of the name, but he was surprised that Diona should know it.

  “I have forgotten all the Greek I was forced to learn at Oxford!” Roderic remarked, as if the omission were something of which to be proud.

  “That is rather a pity,” the Marquis said, “because in that case you will not realise that Diona’s name is obviously a form of ‘Dione’.”

  Roderic looked blank, and Diona gave a little laugh,

  “That is clever of you,” she said. “Mama wanted to call me ‘Dione’ because she said I was the daughter of Heaven and Earth, which of course represented her and Papa.”

  She laughed again and went on,

  “But Papa said ‘Dione’ was too difficult for the English to pronounce and they would make a mess of it. So he insisted I should be christened ‘Diona’!”

  The Marquis’s eyes twinkled.

  “I can see, Roderic,” he said to his nephew, “that we are going to have a very intellectual evening! It is a pity that the judges of Sir Mortimer’s contest are not listening to us.”

  “I should like Miss Diona to repeat what she has just said when she is in front of them,” he replied.

  Because Diona did not wish to spoil the evening by saying she had no wish to enter the contest, she changed the subject by saying to the Marquis,

  “I did want Sirius to be called ‘Tishtriya,’ after the Celestial Dog-Star who is worshipped in Persia, but again Papa said it was too complicated a name.”