Never Forget Love Read online

  There was a little twist to the Duke’s lips as he said,

  “I was, as it happens, rather suspicious about those servants who were taken ill at the last moment and also your friends from where you had to return because of a case of measles.”

  Nerissa gave a little cry.

  “I asked you to forget about it. You are – probing and – prying and it is something you must not do!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Delphine would be very – ”

  Nerissa stopped.

  Because he had flustered her she had been about to give him the truthful answer that Delphine would be very very angry if she knew that he had not been deceived by the charade that she had made them enact for his benefit.

  “Please,” she begged, “promise me that you will not – mention any of this – conversation to Delphine.”

  “I thought that I had given my promise already. I want you to trust me, Nerissa, not to make trouble for you or Harry in any way. It is something I should much dislike doing and would in fact be totally unnecessary.”

  There was a silence and then Nerissa, looking away from him, said,

  “It is all rather – difficult and I really want Papa and Harry to enjoy being here in this wonderful place – and not regret it afterwards.”

  “Is that what you think they will do?” the Duke enquired.

  “Only if you frighten me,” Nerissa answered.

  “Then I promise I will do nothing to upset or frighten you. I want you to enjoy yourself, Nerissa, and it should not be a very difficult thing to do.”

  “No, of course not,” Nerissa agreed, “and it is very very kind of you to have us to stay.”

  There was another awkward silence and then the Duke said reluctantly,

  “I suppose we ought to be getting back and I daresay you are feeling hungry.”

  “Now you mention it I am indeed looking forward to breakfast,” Nerissa smiled.

  They moved out from the trees and rode at a trot through the Park and back towards the house.

  As it lay right ahead of them, Nerissa thought again that nothing could be more beautiful or more ethereal.

  It struck her that the Duke was exactly the right person to own it, looking as he did as if he too had just stepped out of a Fairytale.

  They had not spoken for some moments and then he asked,

  “Are you thinking about my house?”

  “Yes,” she replied, “and about you.”

  “And what have you decided?”

  “That neither is – real – that I have stepped into one of my – dreams and here you both are.”

  The Duke laughed.

  “I will accept that as one of the nicest compliments I have ever been paid and dreams do sometimes come true.”

  Nerissa looked again at the house.

  Then she said,

  “I think whoever built Lyn must have given not only his mind to it but also his heart and soul. I feel that by no other means could it have been made just so perfect, both human and Divine.”

  She was speaking more to herself than to the Duke and, only when she realised that he was looking at her, did she feel that perhaps she had been too effusive.

  “I-I am sorry,” she stated quickly, “but you did ask me ‒ what I felt.”

  “It is what I wanted to hear,” the Duke said quietly.

  They rode on without speaking until they reached the front door.

  *

  The Horse Show was everything that Harry had longed for and, because he had spent a long time with Nerissa inspecting all the horses and watching the events take place, she was blissfully happy.

  It was only towards the end of the afternoon that Delphine, who appeared to have been deliberately avoiding her sister, came up to her to say,

  “Nerissa, here is someone who is very anxious to meet you and I have promised him that you should be properly introduced.”

  Beside her was a tall man with a somewhat Military bearing and a curly moustache, whom Nerissa had noticed the previous evening as one of the Duke’s house party and had not thought him particularly pleasant.

  He had been at her end of the table at dinner, laughing rather loudly and making frequent remarks about the other guests, who he identified by lowering his voice and speaking behind his hand.

  She had thought it very bad manners and the kind of behaviour that her mother would have considered ill-bred.

  Now Delphine was announcing his name to her.

  “Sir Montague Hepban – and this, Montague, as you well know, is my younger sister, Nerissa.”

  “Whose acquaintance I am longing to make,” Sir Montague said. “I had hoped to dance with you last night, but alas you vanished and I searched for you in vain.”

  Delphine laughed.

  “That sounds very unlike you, Montague, I thought you always achieved your objective.”

  “I do,” Sir Montague replied, “but you must give me time.”

  Delphine moved away and Nerissa was left with Sir Montague.

  “Have you had enough of this display of horseflesh? he asked, “because if so, I suggest we go and sit down somewhere quiet where I can talk to you and tell you how captivated I am by your adorable little face.”

  The way he spoke seemed to Nerissa somewhat insincere and what Harry would call ‘slimy’.

  It made her decide that she definitely did not like Sir Montague, but for the rest of the afternoon he would not leave her.

  It was difficult to get away as she knew so few people and, although he spoke to almost everyone they met, he did not stop but, taking her by the arm, moved her through the crowds until she found that they were leaving the Horse Show and walking back towards the house.

  “I don’t want to go in yet,” she said quickly. “I am sure that there are still a great many exhibits that I have not yet seen.”

  “We have both seen quite enough,” Sir Montague asserted firmly, “and the main events are all over. As you can see, the Duke is handing out prizes with that benign pomposity that is mandatory on such occasions.”

  Nerissa decided he meant this to be funny, although she actually thought it rather rude.

  She walked on in silence thinking it would be embarrassing to insist on returning to the crowded show and actually she was feeling hot and tired after so many hours of wandering around it.

  “We will find something cool to drink at the house,” Sir Montague was saying, “then, if you are not tired of exhibitions, I will show you the orchids in the conservatory. But I think the roses you wore in your hair last night found exactly the right resting place.”

  “When we get back, I should like to go to my room and change,” Nerissa said. “It has been hot this afternoon and I shall look forward more than anything else to a cool bath this evening before dinner.”

  “I wish I was privileged to see you in it,” Sir Montague remarked.

  Nerissa stiffened. She considered what he had just said to her was insulting even though she realised that he was only joking.

  Then she told herself that it was her own fault for mentioning a bath in the first place.

  “You must tell me about yourself,” Sir Montague was now saying. “I could not believe anyone could look so young and beautiful. You seem like Persephone bringing the spring to everyone who saw her.”

  As Sir Montague was speaking, he had put his hand under her arm and Nerissa told herself that she disliked the touch of his fingers and feeling strongly that he was being too familiar.

  She was forced to walk up the steps beside him into the hall. Then, when she would have gone upstairs as she wished to do to her own room, he drew her firmly down the passage and, after they had walked a little way, he opened a door, which she found led to a sitting room.

  “I have already told you, Sir Montague, that I wish to change,” Nerissa insisted.

  “There is no hurry and I have no wish for you to leave me after I have taken so long in finding you. Come and sit down here and tell
me about yourself.”

  “There is nothing to tell,” Nerissa responded. “Have you known my sister for long?”

  “Your sister shines like a star in the glittering world of London and we all worship at her feet!”

  “She is very beautiful.”

  “And so are you.”

  Sir Montague drew her towards the sofa and, because it was impossible to resist without struggling uncomfortably against him, Nerissa sat down.

  Then he sat embarrassingly closely beside her and put his arm along the back of the sofa so that it was touching her shoulders.

  As she sat bolt upright, she suggested, hoping to divert his attention,

  “I wonder if it would be possible for us to have some tea? I feel very thirsty.”

  “So do I now I think about it,” Sir Montague said, “but tea will take a long time and I am sure there is a grog tray here in this room. Our host is very generous, I am glad to say, and there is no need for his guests to be thirsty.”

  He rose from beside Nerissa and moved to where in the corner of the room was a table on which a tray held a number of decanters as well as a bottle of champagne in an ice cooler.

  He poured out two glasses and brought them back to Nerissa.

  She was wondering as he did so just how she could manage to escape from him without making what she was afraid might become an uncomfortable scene.

  Sir Montague sat down again and lifted his glass.

  “To your lovely eyes,” he toasted. “And may they very soon look into mine with the expression I long to see.”

  Nerissa looked away from him and he added,

  “That is a very sincere toast because from the moment I saw you I knew that you were what I have been looking for all my life.”

  “I am sure that is not true,” Nerissa reacted. “In fact you did not pay me much attention last night even though you did say you wanted to dance with me later.”

  She was actually recalling in her mind exactly the way that Sir Montague had behaved at dinner.

  She recalled that he had been showing off to the lady on his right, who was extremely attractive with red hair and wearing in it a tiara of emeralds.

  Afterwards she remembered, when the gentlemen had re-joined the ladies, he had gone at once to the side of the same lady and had apparently a great deal to say to her.

  Then why, Nerissa asked, was he behaving to her as he was now?

  She suddenly knew the answer.

  It was Delphine who had told him to keep her out of the way of the Duke. Delphine who perhaps had learned, although Nerissa was praying it was not so, that she and the Duke had ridden together early that morning.

  This seemed rather a far-fetched theory, however, and she told herself that it must be something she was imagining.

  Equally her intuition assured her that it was the truth and this made her feel frightened.

  She put down the glass of champagne that had only taken a tiny sip from and rose to her feet before Sir Montague could stop her.

  “You have been very kind,” she said, “but now I really must go and see if my father is back. I know he would not stay very long at the Horse Show as he would find it tiring and there are several matters that I need to talk to him about.”

  “There are a great many things I want to talk to you about,” Sir Montague replied, “so I will make certain that we sit next to each other at dinner tonight and afterwards we shall dance. Or, if you prefer, I can show you parts of this house that you have not yet visited.”

  “Thank you, that is very kind of you,” Nerissa said vaguely.

  He had risen to his feet as he was talking and now, as she moved towards the door, he was standing in front of her.

  “Before you leave,” he insisted, “I want to tell you just how beautiful you are and how alluring I find your lips.”

  Nerissa stiffened and would have taken a step backwards if his arms had not gone around her.

  “I have a feeling,” Sir Montague murmured, “that you have never been kissed and I want to be the first.”

  “No, no! Of course not!” Nerissa cried.

  Now she was struggling against him with both her hands against his chest, but she was aware that his arms were very strong and she had the terrifying feeling that he had captured her and she would not be able to escape from him.

  “Please – please – you must not do this!”

  “You cannot stop me,” Sir Montague asserted. “I want to kiss you, Nerissa, more than I have wanted anything for a very long time.”

  He held her close to him, but she was turning her head frantically from side to side.

  She felt with horror that she could not escape and it was only a question of seconds before he kissed her.

  “Let me go!” she cried out again and again.

  Then, as he pulled her still closer, she screamed.

  “You are mine, my little spring Goddess!” Sir Montague breathed and Nerissa screamed again.

  Then a voice from the door, cold and icy seemed suddenly to fill the room.

  “What is going on here and who is making all that noise?”

  It was the Duke and Nerissa knew that she was saved.

  Sir Montague’s arms slackened as she fought herself free and ran towards the Duke who was standing inside the door looking overwhelmingly large and awe-inspiring in his riding clothes.

  Without thinking she put out her hand to hold onto him, conscious as she did so that she was trembling all over with fear.

  For a moment nobody spoke and then the Duke said,

  “I wondered why you left the Horse Show so early, Hepban, and Sylvia is wondering the same thing.”

  “As you know, Lynchester, enough can be enough,” Sir Montague said in a somewhat affected tone.

  “That is obviously what Miss Stanley is finding,” the Duke observed.

  At the sound of her name Nerissa, realising that she was now safe from Sir Montague, knew that she had best stay no longer in the room.

  She made an inarticulate little sound and, moving from the Duke’s side, reached the door and disappeared through it.

  There was silence while the two men listened to the sound of her footsteps dying away in the distance.

  Then the Duke addressed him,

  “She is too young for your sort of games, Montague, and I suggest you leave her alone.”

  “Of course if you insist,” Sir Montague said. “Actually it was not my idea but Delphine Bramwell’s. I think she is worried because you are looking in a different direction from the one she expected.”

  Sir Montague did not wait for the Duke to reply to him, but walked out of the room with a swagger, a gait he always assumed when he was feeling rejected.

  The Duke did not watch him go, but merely walked to the window and stood gazing out for a long time.

  Chapter Five

  When Nerissa came downstairs before dinner to join the house party, she was feeling embarrassed.

  She wished that she could stay in her room and not have to face the Duke again, feeling that he would condemn her for being so foolish as to have gone into a sitting room alone with Sir Montague.

  She knew that she would never be able to explain how difficult it would have been to refuse without making a scene.

  And yet the scene that had ensued had been worse than anything that she could have anticipated and she felt humiliated by it.

  She had chosen another of Delphine’s pretty gowns, this time of a pale blue gauze, and Mary had procured for her some small white orchids with touches of pink on their petals to wear in her hair.

  They were so pretty that Nerissa could not help feeling that it was a shame to cut them and they should have been left to grow for as long as their natural life would last.

  She felt, however, once again that, because she was wearing flowers in her hair, she did not look quite so drab beside the rest of the Duke’s glittering lady guests.

  They were all clustered together under the chandeliers, the candlelig
ht playing on their jewels, their lovely faces and sparkling eyes.

  Nowhere, Nerissa thought, could there be a more attractive throng of people, because all the men looked so elegant in their high starched muslin cravats and black silk knee-breeches.

  She moved quickly to her father’s side and only as she reached him did she realise that he was talking to the Duke.

  “I am sure, Your Grace,” Marcus Stanley was saying, “that this is one of the Elizabethan houses that during the Elizabethan era held special Festivals of their own.”

  “I don’t think I have heard of that before,” the Duke remarked.

  “There was, of course, the Festival that always took place at the beginning of May, but there were many others,” Marcus Stanley explained, “including the Festival of Fruits, which I suppose now we would call it the Harvest Festival and there were Festivals of various Saints and I expect, although I am not certain, there was a Festival of Flowers.”

  Before the Duke could reply Delphine, who had moved to stand beside him, exclaimed,

  “What a lovely idea! Why do we not have one tomorrow evening? We could all appear in the flowers we resemble.”

  She turned her beautiful face up to the Duke’s as she spoke and Nerissa was certain that Delphine was visualising herself as a rose, which was what she had always claimed that she resembled.

  “It is certainly an idea,” the Duke surmised slowly.

  Now several of the other ladies who had been listening joined in to say,

  “But of course. It would be spectacular and where else could we have such a choice of flowers but from Your Grace’s garden and greenhouses?”

  “They are at your disposal,” the Duke smiled, “but I must refuse to allow you to deplete my special orchids in the Conservatory.”

  As he spoke, his eyes rested for a moment on the small orchids in Nerissa’s hair and she blushed thinking that she had no right to be wearing them.

  Then Delphine protested volubly.

  “Oh, Talbot,” she cried out, “you have always promised me that I should wear your star orchids when they came into bloom and when I looked yesterday they were very nearly ready to flower.”

  “My ‘star orchids’, as you call them, are so precious,” the Duke replied, “that there are experts coming from all over the country to see them as this is the first time that they have been grown in England.”