A Very Special Love Page 8
He saw the worried expression was still on Zia’s face and added,
“Sister Martha is arriving late this evening and I suggest you concentrate on deciding how to make sure that the poor girl is very much happier in the future than she has been in the past.”
“She is coming here?” Zia asked. “I am so glad! Father Proteus has not injured her in any way?”
“Perhaps he is not as dangerous as you think he is,” the Marquis reflected.
But he knew by the expression in Zia’s blue eyes that she was still afraid and nothing he could say or do would drive away her fears.
*
It was after midnight when Sister Martha was brought by a Courier chosen for her by the Police to Oke House.
On the Marquis’s instructions, Mr. Barrett escorted her upstairs to the housekeeper who showed her into a comfortable bedroom.
While a maid unpacked the small suitcase she had brought with her, a meal was brought up on a tray.
Sister Martha enjoyed every mouthful of it and afterwards climbed into bed to sleep peacefully.
When she awoke, which was early because she was used to saying her morning prayers in the Chapel at six o’clock, she looked round the bedroom, which seemed to her very grand.
She was thinking how the old Priest had been too ill to give the Benediction in recent months when the door opened and Zia peeped round it.
When she saw that Sister Martha was awake, she gave a little exclamation of joy and went to her bedside.
“You are here and it is lovely to see you,” she said.
Then, as she looked at her more closely, she asked,
“What has happened? How have you bruised your face?”
“Saul hit me!” Sister Martha answered. “You remember him the man with the scar?”
Zia sat down on the bed.
“I always thought he was horrible like the others and I was afraid that one of them might do something like this. Are you all right?”
“He knocked me down and I think I became unconscious,” Sister Martha replied. “When later I was able to enquire what had happened, I found that Father Proteus, whose leg was injured, had left the Convent with all the four men, taking with him everything that was valuable.”
Zia looked at her wide-eyed as Sister Martha went on in a shocked voice,
“You will hardly believe it, Zia, but Father Proteus took all the things from the Altar, the candlesticks, the Communion vessels and even the Cross because it was made of silver.”
“He is the most evil man who ever existed!” Zia exclaimed. “But why did the Police not catch him?”
“They arrived too late,” Sister Martha answered. “I heard somebody say that a man had ridden in very late the night you left and what he told Father Proteus made him realise that he must escape while he had the chance.”
Zia reckoned that this was what the Marquis thought would have happened, that a spy in Father Proteus’s employ had watched as The Unicorn put into Falmouth.
So they would have known then that the Marquis was communicating with the Lord Lieutenant and the Police.
“Have you any idea where they might have gone?” Zia asked Sister Martha.
She shook her head.
“He might be anywhere, but I imagine that he will be in London.”
“Why London?” Zia asked curiously.
“I heard him say once a long time ago when he did not know I was listening, ‘I am fed up with this place! It gives me the creeps! I want to be back amongst the bright lights of London’.”
Zia was frightened again.
“I must tell the Marquis what you have told me,” she said, “and, Sister Martha, you have to be very careful of yourself. I am sure that Father Proteus would be furious to know that – you are – here.”
“He will not worry about me or you,” Sister Martha said, “now that he cannot get hold of your money.”
“He will certainly not be able to do that now that the Marquis is looking after it.”
“If you ask me,” Sister Martha said, “he will find some other place that he can take over, just as he took over the Convent, and where he can persuade people in different ways to lend him money.”
Zia knew that this was true.
Father Proteus had been able to deceive her aunt into thinking that he was a good and helpful Priest.
And there had been a number of other parents in the County who sent their children to the Convent because Father Proteus had promised that they would be well educated.
When she thought about it, she knew that he had been astute enough to employ a really accomplished music Teacher and a painter, who certainly achieved some good results from their pupils.
There were also three elderly and competent Governesses who made a number of other subjects interesting so that the pupils were eager to learn.
Later, when she discussed it with the Marquis, she said,
“When you think of it, my Lord, it was an extremely clever way of doing really nothing except to find out what other people wanted. He had a house to live in and the fees were very high, although I now suspect that he did not pay the Teachers very generously.”
“And nobody had any idea he was anything other than what he appeared to be?” the Marquis asked.
“No, of course not. He talked as if he was a genuine and dedicated Priest and after Father Anthony was taken ill he occasionally, if there were any visitors to the Convent, conducted a Service in the Chapel. But now I know that it was sheer blasphemy for which he ought to be struck down by a thunderbolt!”
The Marquis smiled.
“Let’s hope that will happen,” he said, “but, as we shall never know the truth, let’s forget him.”
Zia thought that it would be impossible, but she did not say so.
They talked about Sister Martha and the Marquis, with a kindness that Zia thought was unusual in such a consequential man, questioned her as to what she would like to do.
“If you wish to go into another Convent,” he said, “I will arrange with the Archbishop of Westminster Cathedral that you are accepted into the best one he can recommend.”
Sister Martha drew in her breath, but she did not speak and the Marquis went on,
“There is another idea that you might find interesting. Why not put aside your nun’s attire for a while and stay, either here or in the country, and find out if you prefer an ordinary life to one of dedication?”
He knew before he said so that Sister Martha would feel embarrassed at the thought of living with them and he added,
“I have a feeling that you would like to help other people. Now I have a school on my estate in Sussex where the Mistress who has taught in it for many years is growing old.”
He saw Sister Martha’s eyes light up and he continued,
“Mr. Barrett tells me that she is already looking for her successor. Until she finds one, perhaps to help her out is something that you might contemplate doing. She has room in her small house for any assistant I send her.”
Before Sister Martha could reply, Zia exclaimed,
“That is a wonderful idea! And if I come to The Castle, as his Lordship has said I am to do, I will be able to visit you and make sure that you are really happy.”
Sister Martha was unable to answer because her eyes had filled with tears and it was impossible for her to speak.
Zia jumped up and put her arms round the older girl saying,
“There is no hurry for you to make up your mind. Just think it over. We will talk about it and then tell his Lordship in a day or two.”
“You are – very kind,” Sister Martha stammered, “and I don’t know – what to say.”
Then because Zia was sure that the Marquis would find tears tiresome, she took Sister Martha out of the study where they had been talking.
The Marquis was left alone and he walked to the window to look out into the garden.
He was thinking that few women of his acquaintance would be so kind as Zia was being to
the plain little nun who she really she had nothing in common with.
He could never remember any of the beauties who he had spent time with worrying over anyone except themselves.
He had often thought that they were quite unnecessarily sharp and intolerant even to their personal servants.
‘Zia has been well taught by her father,’ he told himself.
Then he sensed that it was not teaching that made Zia care for others but her warm heart and that was very different.
Now he was alone he was forced once again to remember what Harry had told him and to know that Yasmin was making sure in a very subtle manner that it would be impossible for him to escape her.
Of course Irene would talk, however confidential the secret might be that she had been entrusted with.
The Marquis knew that he was fortunate that where Harry was concerned it would go no further.
Harry had assured him that he had made Irene swear on everything she held Holy that she would not repeat what Yasmin had written to her to another living soul.
But few women were trustworthy he was sure of that.
No one could be certain that Irene would not, naturally in confidence, tell another friend, who would tell another and then yet another.
Within a few days the story would be all over London.
‘What shall I do?’ the Marquis asked himself a dozen times. ‘What can I do?’
As he spoke the words beneath his breath, the door opened and Harry came in.
“I am sorry I am late, Rayburn,” he said, “but one of my horses has gone lame and I went to the Mews to see to him.”
“You can always borrow one of mine,” the Marquis offered him.
“That is what I was just going to ask you,” Harry replied. “What are you going to do?”
“I was just thinking of going riding, “the Marquis replied. “Then we have a luncheon party today, to which, if you remember, you are invited.”
“Of course I remember. If there is one person I enjoy talking to it is your grandmother.”
The Marquis stared out of the window as Harry went on,
“By the way I have not had a chance to tell you how much I admire your Ward. She is lovely, Rayburn, quite, quite lovely! I only hope that you enjoy her looks while you have her with you, because she will not be with you for long.”
“For God’s sake,” the Marquis replied irritably, “don’t start harping on about the girl being married before she has even attended her first ball.”
“I would not mind betting that by her second she will have had half-a-dozen proposals!” Harry persisted.
The Marquis did not reply and after a moment his friend carried on,
“Do stop, Rayburn, looking like a bear with a sore head. If it is Yasmin who is worrying you, I think I have a solution.”
“You have?” the Marquis enquired.
He thought as he spoke that Harry was just being facetious.
Because he had lain awake most of the night worrying as to what he should do, he did not find it a laughing matter.
“It’s quite simple,” Harry said, “and I cannot think why we did not think of it before.”
“Think of what?” the Marquis wanted to know.
“That you should get married!”
Chapter Five
The Marquis stared at Harry and was about to reply when the door opened and the butler announced,
“Lord Charles Fane, my Lord.”
A good-looking and impeccably dressed young man came into the room saying as he did so,
“I have just learnt, Rayburn, from your grandmother that you are back in London and I decided to come and see you right away.”
The Marquis held out his hand.
“How are you, Charles? Behaving badly as usual, I suppose?”
“Of course,” Lord Charles replied, “but I wanted to talk to you for a moment about your party as unfortunately Evelyn’s husband has just returned from the North and therefore she cannot come.”
“Another casualty!” Harry exclaimed before the Marquis could speak.
“Hello, Harry,” Lord Charles greeted him. “Who is the first one?”
Realising that he had made a mistake, Harry replied hastily,
“Rayburn will tell you our troubles.”
“Before I do that,” the Marquis said, having no intention of confiding in Lord Charles, “would you like something to drink?”
“Naturally,” Lord Charles responded. “I always think that your champagne is medically speaking the best tonic I know.”
The Marquis laughed and went to the grog tray, while Lord Charles seated himself in a comfortable chair near Harry.
“I was wondering what had happened to you,” he said to the Marquis who had his back to him, “when I just happened to meet your grandmother, who was accompanied by the most beautiful creature I could possibly imagine!”
“That is exactly what I have been saying,” Harry chimed in.
“She really is unbelievably lovely,” Lord Charles went on, “and, if you don’t ask me to dinner, I shall sit on your doorstep until I can see her again!”
He was speaking lightly, but the Marquis suddenly felt annoyed.
He knew that Charles Fane was one of the most amusing men in London, but at the same time, he did little but trek from boudoir to boudoir and his love affairs were too numerous to count.
He was the last man he would think of as suitable to be with anyone as innocent as Zia.
“Now listen to me, Charles,” he said as he handed him a glass of champagne, “Zia is young and unspoilt. Harry and I are going to find her a suitable husband among the young men who do not have a reputation like yours. So keep away!”
Lord Charles stared at him.
“Are you really giving me orders, Rayburn?” he asked. “I have never heard anything so outrageous and I have no intention of being told to keep off the grass where anything so delectable and unusual is concerned.”
The Marquis felt his temper rising.
Then he told himself that if Zia looked on him as a father figure, she would presumably feel the same about Lord Charles, who was two years older than he was.
Equally he would take care that she saw as little of him as possible.
“Now, what I want to know,” Lord Charles was saying, “is where you found her and who she is.”
As the Marquis did not reply immediately, Harry obliged by saying,
“She is Colonel Langley’s daughter. You must remember him.”
“Of course I remember him. The best rider I have ever seen and an exceedingly good-looking man. I suppose it is to be expected that his daughter would look as if she had stepped down from Heaven or wherever angels come from!”
The Marquis walked to his desk.
“If you two are going to continue rambling on in this idiotic way,” he said forcefully, “you had better go into another room, although actually I have much to discuss with Harry.”
Lord Charles finished his glass of champagne.
“I don’t know what I could have done to offend you, Rayburn, but I know when I am not wanted. However I would like to know what is happening about your party?”
“I have decided to postpone it until a later date,” the Marquis replied.
Harry looked at him in surprise and Lord Charles remarked,
“Well, that suits me if Evelyn cannot come. I am not really interested in anybody else unless, of course, the exquisite Miss Langley will take her place!”
He was being provocative, but somehow the Marquis could not laugh as he ought to have done.
“I will let you know when I am holding another party,” he said coldly, “but it will not be for some time.”
“I have a feeling that you are keeping something from me,” Lord Charles complained. “And if you have a party without me, Rayburn, I swear I will be an unremitting enemy. I might even call you out!”
The Marquis this time laughed, but it was not a particularly humorous sound.
“Well, I will think of something else,” Lord Charles said, “and I promise you it will be very unpleasant!”
The Marquis was suddenly aware that Harry was frowning at him and he remembered that Lord Charles, although they were quite fond of him, was an irrepressible gossip.
He decided therefore that it would be a mistake to quarrel with him at this moment.
“Don’t be a fool, Charles, you know if I have a party it would not be the same if you were not there to make everybody laugh. It is just that with a debutante on my hands, I don’t feel that the sort of party Harry and I were planning would be very appropriate and I can hardly go to The Castle and leave her alone here with my grandmother.”
Lord Charles, who was a very good-humoured man, smiled.
“Of course not, “ he said, “and if you ask me nicely I will stand back and let some of the unfledged, chinless young fools say their piece, but I warn you, Rayburn, I will not be cut out altogether!”
“I am hoping to find a responsible husband for Zia,” the Marquis said heavily, “and you know as well as I do that, like me, you have no intention of marrying anyone.”
“You will have to marry sometime, old man, in order to have an heir,” Lord Charles replied. “As for me, you are well aware that my brother his three sons, so there is no chance of my coming into the Dukedom.”
“It’s a great pity,” Harry smiled. “You would be the most flirtatious Duke that has ever been known, but undoubtedly the scandals that you would create would have you barred from Windsor Castle!”
“I should certainly be grateful for that mercy,” Lord Charles said. “I am so sorry for all those overdressed Gentlemen-in-Waiting who have to mop the Queen’s tears and listen to her eulogising hour after hour on the virtues of the late lamented Prince Consort!”
Harry and the Marquis both laughed.
At the same time they were thinking of how indiscreet Lord Charles was. The Marquis prayed that he would never know about Yasmin or the unfortunate situation that Zia had been in when he rescued her.
Because Harry was so close to the Marquis, he was aware of what he was thinking and changed the conversation by inviting Lord Charles to tell them all about the latest scandals that were being circulated in Mayfair.