Born of Love Page 7

  The Earl wondered what he could say to comfort her.

  Finally, after a moment, he suggested,

  “I hope, Yvonne, that things are not really as bad as you suspect. Would you like me to speak to Sardos and try to make him see sense?”

  “He will pay no attention to you. Or rather he would agree to do anything you asked of him, especially if you gave him some money. Then, as soon as you had left, he would go on exactly as he has before. I have lost count of all the times this has happened with Armond.”

  “It does seem very difficult,” the Earl said in a low voice. “At the same time I cannot believe that Sardos will risk his neck by attempting to murder the Duc.”

  “If he can find a way of doing it without anybody realising it is he, he will do it!” the Comtesse asserted.

  She spoke so positively that the Earl was startled.

  Then he thought that perhaps she was being a little hysterical and in a conciliatory tone he said,

  “I have a feeling that things are not as bad as you anticipate and I am hoping perhaps their interest in horses will bring the Duc and Marcia together. You know, nothing would make me happier than for my family to be allied with yours.”

  “It is something I should welcome with open arms,” the Comtesse said. “You and Elizabeth were always the perfect couple and your home was such a happy one. I have never forgotten its atmosphere of peace and, of course, love.”

  The Earl was very moved.

  “Thank you, Yvonne. I think you understand how lonely I have been without my wife and what a joy it has been to have Marcia with me, growing up so beautiful with a character that matches her looks.”

  “She is just what I want for Armond’s wife,” the Comtesse sighed. “Oh, Lionel, do you think that God will ever hear my prayers?”

  “I know that no one could pray more sincerely than you do,” the Earl answered, “and we must, my dear, just hope that things will come right.”

  *

  Marcia enjoyed her game of cards with the two men and a very charming woman who made up the table.

  She was, however, glad when the Comtesse announced that, as some of their guests had been travelling, they should all go to bed early.

  “I am rather tired, Papa,” Marcia said to the Earl.

  “So am I, my dearest,” the Earl answered.

  They walked together into the hall.

  As they reached the stairs, they were aware that the Duc with the Marquise at his side were just behind them.

  “Goodnight, my Lord,” the Duc said to the Earl. “Tomorrow we will have a parade of all my horses for you to see.”

  “I am looking forward to it,” the Earl replied.

  Then speaking not only to the Earl but also to the other members of the house party who stood round him, the Duc went on,

  “Of course anyone who wishes to ride early in the morning may do so. We will all assemble later in the paddocks where I have my Racecourse at eleven o’clock.”

  There was a murmur of pleasure when he said this.

  As Marcia and the Earl proceeded up the stairs, she said to her father in a low voice,

  “Does that mean that we will be able to ride?”

  “Of course it does! You may ride any time you like here, but you must be certain to get yourself a really good horse. We will see the parade of the Duc’s stables and after that there will be some flat races in which everybody takes part and other races with a number of high hedges to be jumped.”

  Marcia gave a cry of excitement.

  “That is what I shall enjoy, Papa, and I hope I do you credit.”

  “I shall be very angry if you do not,” the Earl teased.

  As she reached her bedroom, she kissed her father affectionately.

  “Goodnight, Papa. It is very exciting being here in the most beautiful château I have ever imagined.”

  “I thought you would enjoy it,” the Earl replied. “I have not been here for many years, but the Duc has made it even more beautiful than I remember on my last visit to his father.”

  He walked away to his own room and Marcia went into hers.

  She was very tired and slept peacefully in the big comfortable bed.

  *

  When she awoke, the sun was shining through the sides of the curtains.

  She sat up in bed and looked at the clock and realised that it was still very early.

  She looked out through the window and the panoramic view over the valley was breathtaking.

  She felt that it was impossible to remain in bed, even though she had asked the maid to call her at seven o’clock.

  Her father had said that anybody could ride who wanted to and there seemed no reason for her to hesitate.

  She dressed herself quickly as she often did at home.

  Because it was hot she put on a riding skirt that was made of a thin piqué material that had just become fashionable and it was unnecessary to wear the jacket that went with it.

  She omitted a hat because at home she always rode bare-headed.

  It was just before six o’clock as she ran down the stairs.

  The housemaids in their mob caps were already cleaning the hall and it was obvious as they bobbed a curtsey that they were surprised to see one of the guests up so early.

  Marcia was sure that nobody else in the party was up at such an early hour.

  She had already guessed in which direction the stables lay.

  When she reached them, she found that the young grooms had just begun to clean out the stalls and they were also carrying water and food to the horses.

  As she had expected, the stables were magnificent, almost, she thought, as fine as the château itself.

  She could not resist going from one stall to another.

  She thought that the occupant of each one was finer than the last.

  A groom, who seemed superior to the others, asked her which horse she wished to ride.

  “I would love to ride this one,” she replied.

  “That is Aquilin, m’mselle,” the groom replied, “and one of Monsieur le Duc’s favourites.”

  “I am sure that he will not mind if I take him for a short ride,” Marcia answered.

  The groom was too well-trained to argue.

  He merely saddled Aquilin and took the horse outside to the mounting block.

  As Marcia seated herself in the saddle, she thought her father would be hard-pressed to find his equal.

  It was not difficult to find her way onto the open ground that sloped down towards the valley and she soon found a smooth stretch where she could gallop.

  She took Aquilin at a speed that made her hair fall into soft curls round her forehead.

  Only when she felt that both she and her horse were breathless did she draw Aquilin in and move more slowly.

  Now she was looking at the great cliffs rising up on one side of her.

  Below she could see the vineyards and the river that ran through them.

  “It is lovely, lovely!” she said aloud. “The most beautiful place I could ever imagine.”

  She went some way further before reluctantly turning back towards the château.

  Her father would be coming downstairs for breakfast and, if he intended to ride immediately after it, he would be disappointed if she was not there.

  She was trotting Aquilin at a slow pace when she became aware that in the distance a rider was coming towards her.

  As he drew nearer, it was somehow not surprising to realise that it was the Duc.

  For the first time Marcia began to wonder if she had not committed a faux pas.

  Was it wrong to have asked for a horse that the groom had said was one of the Duc’s favourites?

  There was nothing she could do, however, but ride towards him.

  She had to admit as she watched him that he rode better than any man she had ever seen.

  He was mounted on a huge black stallion and it was impossible not to appreciate the picture he made on such a magnificent horse.

/>   The cliffs were on one side of him, the trees behind and far in the distance the white walls of the château.

  The Duc came closer still.

  As he reached Marcia, he swept off his hat.

  “Good morning, Lady Marcia,” he said. “I was surprised to find you had stolen my favourite mount!”

  “I was afraid you might say that,” Marcia replied. “Please forgive me, monsieur, but I just could not resist Aquilin, and even if you are angry with me it is worth it because I have so much enjoyed riding him.”

  Just for a moment the hard expression in the Duc’s eyes softened as if he was amused by her reply.

  Then he asked,

  “You are quite certain that he is not too much for you?”

  “You are insulting me and insulting Papa even more,” Marcia answered. “I have ridden since I was in the cradle and Papa would be furious if he thought that anything you could breed would unseat me!”

  The Duc laughed as if he could not help it.

  Then he said,

  “As I have no wish to insult your father, whom I admire tremendously, I can only say that you ride as his daughter should.”

  “Thank you,” Marcia said. “I was just going back to the château as I thought that Papa might want to ride after breakfast and wish me to accompany him.”

  “You don’t think that you will be too tired after your long ride this morning?” the Duc enquired.

  Marcia was just about to make a sharp retort when she realised that he was teasing her.

  “I will answer that question at the end of the day,” she said. “I am looking forward to racing you, monsieur, or shall we make it a steeplechase?”

  “Perhaps we might manage both,” the Duc replied.

  “That is a promise,” Marcia answered, “and I shall keep you to it!”

  Their horses were now walking side by side.

  Marcia suddenly realised that this was her opportunity when nobody could interrupt them to speak frankly to the Duc.

  For a moment she hesitated, feeling that it was embarrassing.

  Then she told herself that the sooner everything was put into its right perspective the better.

  “I had not expected to meet you this morning, monsieur,” she began, “but now you are here I have something to say to you and I am glad of the opportunity.”

  The Duc raised his eyebrows before he replied,

  “I am listening, Lady Marcia.”

  “I think I must tell you,” Marcia continued, “that in fact your aunt, the Comtesse, asked Papa to bring me with him to stay at the château and I expect you can guess why she did so.”

  Without even looking at the Duc she was aware that he had stiffened.

  There was an angry expression in his eyes and his lips had set in a hard line.

  For a moment he contemplated telling Lady Marcia to mind her own business. Then he thought that it would be a mistake to be rude and easier to pretend to be mystified.

  “I am afraid, Lady Marcia,” he replied, “that I have no idea what you are implying.”

  “Then I will be frank, monsieur,” Marcia answered, “and tell you that your aunt intimated to Papa that I would make a suitable bride for you.”

  The Duc drew in his breath.

  This was plain speaking such as he had not expected and he was not at all certain how to answer it.

  “What I wanted to tell you,” Marcia went on before he could speak, “is that I personally have no wish to marry you and no intention of doing so.”

  If she had thrown a bomb at him, the Duc could not have been more surprised.

  He was used to being pleaded with to be married.

  He had therefore assumed that any young woman in France or any other country would agree with alacrity to become his wife.

  He had been certain, without anybody saying so, that this was the reason why Lady Marcia had been brought to the château.

  He thought that it was going to be very difficult to inform the Earl, if he raised the question, that he did not wish to marry his daughter.

  What he had never anticipated for one moment was that the Earl’s daughter would have no wish to become his wife.

  Last night, when he had gone to the Marquise’s room and made love to her, he had told himself that all he wanted of life was amusement and gratification.

  This meant making love to any beautiful woman who would not try to fetter him to her by the Marriage Service.

  He had been perturbed by Marcia’s sudden appearance and he had soon guessed that it had been planned to bring them together and why.

  Because of this he had not enjoyed himself with the Marquise as much as he had expected.

  She had been very alluring, very passionate and insatiable in her demands.

  It was what he had experienced before, but somehow, although he could not explain it to himself, there was something missing.

  He had gone back to his own room sooner than she had expected and she had reproached him for doing so.

  “How can you leave me, dearest Armond,” she whispered, “when we are so fortunate to be here together with Eugene away in Rome and no one to interrupt bur happiness?”

  “Forgive me if I disappoint you,” the Duc replied, “but I have a great deal to arrange tomorrow and I have waited a long time to welcome the Earl of Grateswoode as my guest.”

  “I also am – your guest,” the Marquise said softly.

  “Do you think I could forget that?” the Duc answered. “Tomorrow night I will tell you again how beautiful you are.”

  It was not exactly what the Marquise wanted, but she had to be content.

  She had already learnt that, whatever she said and however much she protested, the Duc would always do what he wanted.

  He left her and went to his bedroom.

  But, when he climbed into bed, he did not sleep as he expected to do immediately.

  Instead he lay thinking of how infuriating it was that his aunt should have arranged with the Earl to bring his daughter with him.

  She would spoil what he had thought would be their joint enjoyment of his horses.

  ‘Curse the girl!’ he swore to himself. ‘I would not marry her if she was Aphrodite herself, but I have no wish to tell her father so.’

  Yet now, when he had least expected it, the girl he had cursed was telling him before he could speak that she had no wish to be his wife.

  Because he was so surprised, he asked the first question that came into his head.

  “Why do you have no wish to marry me?” he enquired.

  “I should have thought that the answer was quite obvious,” Marcia replied. “I do not love you and I have no intention of marrying anyone I do not love.”

  The Duc stared at her.

  “But surely,” he said, “you will accept someone your father approves of?”

  Marcia shook her head.

  “I have already told Papa firmly that I will not marry anyone until I am in love. He is determined, however, that I shall marry you and I can only ask you to make it quite clear that you have no wish to marry me.”

  The Duc was even more astonished than he was already.

  He knew that any girl in the length and breadth of France would jump at the opportunity of marrying him and her father and mother would be even more eager than she was.

  It had never struck him for one moment that anyone he even smiled at would refuse him their favours.

  Yet this young girl, who he admitted reluctantly was exceedingly beautiful, did not wish to be the Duchesse de Roux.

  It astonished him, to say the least of it.

  Aloud he remarked,

  “Of course I respect your feelings, Lady Marcia, but I find them somewhat uncomplimentary.”

  Marcia laughed.

  “On the contrary you were angry when I arrived and I was sure then that you had not been told that Papa was bringing me.”

  She looked at him with her eyes twinkling as she continued,

  “You have made it v
ery clear since then that you have no wish for my company and I have only been waiting for an opportunity to tell you that I share your feelings.”

  She paused to say almost pleadingly,

  “I beg you to plan with me how to save ourselves from being dragged forcibly up the aisle and married before we can fight ourselves free and run away.”

  Quite unexpectedly the Duc laughed.

  “I don’t believe that I am hearing this,” he said. “I have been pleaded with, pressured and almost forced with a shotgun at my back to agree that I would marry! Now you are telling me that the same thing is happening to you.”

  “Quite seriously, it is,” Marcia replied. “Papa has such an admiration for you that he thinks I must be mad when I say that I will not marry you.”

  “I am sure that your determination is very good for my soul,” the Duc remarked, “but I feel that it is somewhat deflating.”

  “Nonsense,” Marcia argued. “You are delighted at being let off the hook. But I am quite certain that you will find Papa and your aunt, the Comtesse, very persuasive. The only thing we can do is to fight them together.”

  “There I agree with you,” the Duc said, “and I am sure that you are right in saying that it will not be easy.”

  “It’s going to be difficult,” Marcia agreed, “but if we can make it quite clear to them that neither of us has any intention of doing what they want, I shall be able to enjoy your horses without feeling embarrassed every time your family look at me.”

  The Duc laughed again.

  “I shall feel the same! We both know when we enter a room that there will be a sudden silence as if they have been talking about us.”

  “They will do that,” Marcia agreed, “so please, Monsieur le Duc, promise me that you will tell Papa very firmly, so that he cannot misunderstand, that you have no intention of proposing marriage to me.”

  “I promise,” the Duc said. “At the same time I think that this is the most extraordinary conversation that I have ever had in the whole of my life!”

  “Then that is settled,” Marcia smiled. “Now I will race you to the end of the field.”

  She did not wait for him to agree.

  She pushed Aquilin forwards so quickly and so skilfully that she was some lengths away before the Duc realised what she was doing.