A Shooting Star Read online

  “I have no wish to upset anyone,” he had replied.

  He had not really thought again about the warning.

  He was, however, more than a little surprised when Lord Linwood had invited him to a small and intimate dinner party.

  He said he was giving it for his daughter as soon as she arrived in London, a party that the Prince of Wales had already agreed to attend.

  If it had been a large ball, such as he was invited to every night and to which the members of the Beau Monde seemed to attend automatically, he would have accepted it as perfectly normal.

  Of course, as the Earl of Haugton, he was on the list of all the fashionable hostesses and at the age of twenty-seven he was well aware of his own attractions – not the least being his bank balance.

  He might, however, have expected Lord Linwood’s invitation simply because he was persona grata at Windsor Castle and if Lord Linwood did resent the attention the Queen was giving him, he made no sign of it.

  The Prince of Wales was very different and the Earl had been surprised when, as the ladies left the dining room, Lord Linwood had told him with a gesture of his hand to sit down next to the Prince.

  Being naturally a wit, he had found it easy to make the Prince laugh and when it was time to join the ladies, His Royal Highness had declared,

  “You must come to Marlborough House, my boy. I know all your stories that have entertained me this evening will amuse my friends.”

  “That is very kind of Your Royal Highness,” the Earl replied. “I will be delighted and very honoured to be a guest at Marlborough House.”

  “I expect you have heard of the alterations I have been making to it. I was told, I think it must have been by Linwood, that you have made some major improvements recently at Haugton Hall.”

  “I have altered the picture gallery and bought some very fine pictures recently in Rome that I would like Your Royal Highness to view.”

  He paused, wondering if he had said too much and the Prince would consider that he was being too pushy.

  But the Prince had smiled at him and responded,

  “I would really love to see them and so would Mrs. Langtry. If you have a date when you would like to invite us, discuss it with my private secretary. I would be most interested not just to see your pictures but Haugton Hall too”.

  The Prince with Lord Linwood then led the way from the dining room and by the time the Earl had reached the ballroom, the Prince was dancing with Mrs. Langtry.

  The Earl felt it was only polite that he should ask the Duchess of Manchester for a dance as he had sat next to her at dinner.

  She was a superb dancer and, as they swept round the room to a romantic waltz, she asked,

  “What do you think of our host’s daughter? She is really lovely.”

  “I find most young girls,” replied the Earl, “have little to say for themselves. I was impressed, however, that she made that speech which was apparently unprompted, but naturally I did enjoy sitting with you and having that most fascinating conversation.”

  “Now you are flattering me,” the Duchess smiled. “But I enjoyed our conversation too. It was an entirely serious political one, but I don’t reproach you for that!”

  The Earl laughed as he knew only too well about the Duchess’s reputation and she seldom talked to a man without flirting with him.

  They had in fact plunged into a conversation over the new Education Bill as the Duchess was supporting the proposer of the Bill, Mr. William Forster, who was one of her close friends.

  As he expected, the Queen was violently against anything that the Duchess approved of and naturally she disliked the Duchess, not only for her political convictions, but because of her gambling and her attraction for men.

  The Earl had enjoyed every moment of his dinner. Everything she said to him was exactly what he wanted to know about influence and lobbying at Windsor.

  Nevertheless later in the evening he realised he had not behaved correctly and asked to dance with his hostess – or rather the debutante the dinner was given for.

  When he had approached Flavia, he had expected her eyes to reproach him for being so slow in requesting a dance.

  Her answer had been as astonishing as if she had fired a pistol at him.

  *

  He had woken in the morning no less determined to find an explanation.

  He was not quite certain where to begin.

  Thinking it over, he came to the conclusion that his best idea would be to call at Linwood House.

  He would leave a bouquet of flowers for Flavia and a letter thanking Lord Linwood for his hospitality.

  It had truly been a most enjoyable and interesting dinner party and he had actually enjoyed himself more than at any other party this Season.

  He had, with an invitation to Marlborough House, definitely set off on the right foot.

  ‘Why,’ he wondered, ‘must I ignore Flavia?’

  It was quite obvious from what everyone else had said last night that Flavia Linwood would be the ‘belle’ of the Season.

  Then why, why, why did he have to ignore her?

  What could the danger be?

  If there were two things the Earl found fascinating, they were a problem he could not solve at once and the unexpected.

  He knew he must find an answer to this dilemma.

  He sat down and wrote his letter of thanks and then he ordered the flowers and a carriage for three o’clock.

  He was then aware that his secretary and his butler were looking at him in some surprise that he was attending to his correspondence first thing after breakfast.

  The horse he was to ride that morning in Rotten Row was waiting for him at the door. It was one of his latest purchases and a superb thoroughbred.

  He knew when he was riding it that there was no one in Rotten Row or anywhere else in London, for that matter, who could equal him.

  He set off, enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air, which was sweeping in from the trees in Park Lane.

  It was when he was halfway down Rotten Row that he saw Lord Linwood coming towards him.

  He was riding a very fine horse and beside him was Flavia.

  The Earl had to admit she looked almost as smart and sensational in an attractive riding habit as she had done last night in her glittering gown.

  As they met face to face, the Earl swept off his hat and spoke to Lord Linwood,

  “Good morning. I have just written a letter to you to thank you for a most stimulating evening. In fact I have never enjoyed myself more.”

  “I am so delghted,” Lord Linwood answered him, “and I understand you are inviting His Royal Highness to Haugton Hall.”

  “His Royal Highness was kind enough to say that he would like to see some pictures I bought in Rome when I was last there.”

  “I am hoping that, when he does come, you and Miss Flavia will also honour me.”

  “We will be enchanted,” said Lord Linwood. “Do arrange your party as soon as possible.”

  “I will most certainly do so,” the Earl answered and looked towards Flavia.

  She was frowning at him.

  Her forehead was definitely wrinkled and he knew without her saying it that she did not want to accept his invitation.

  The Earl was wondering what he could do, when Lord Linwood remarked,

  “Ah, there is Lady Brentford. I must have a word with her.”

  He then moved his horse quickly towards one of the open carriages that had drawn up at the side of the Row so that those occupying it could talk both to those riding and people walking on the footpath.

  The Earl realised that he and Flavia were for the moment left behind.

  He rode closer to her.

  “I must see you,” he began. “I want to ask you for an explanation of what you said to me last night.”

  “Just leave me alone,” Flavia blurted out. “Pay no attention to me and you must not come to the house.”

  She spoke quickly and at that moment a man riding a
spirited horse that was bucking a bit came up beside her.

  “That was a marvellous party you gave last night, Miss Linwood,” the man began. “I hope you will save me a dance at the Beaufort’s party tonight. I am sure you will be one of the guests.”

  Flavia smiled at him.

  “I must ask Papa, but I expect we are going. He said something about it yesterday.”

  “Then please promise me the first dance and a great number of dances after that,” the man blustered on.

  Flavia laughed.

  “You must not be greedy. As I have just arrived in London, there are a great number of people I want to meet, who up to now have just been names to me in The Court Circular.”

  The young man chuckled.

  “I suppose I should be grateful I am grand enough to be in it. Do I get my dance?”

  “It depends what time you arrive,” Flavia answered. “If you are late and my dance card is full, what can I do about it?”

  “I think you are being very unkind,” the young man protested and turned to the Earl.

  “What do you think, Vincent?” he asked.

  Before the Earl could answer, Flavia moved away and she was now riding quickly down Rotten Row, passing her father who was still talking to his friend in the carriage.

  The Earl felt that he should follow her and then changed his mind.

  ‘I must get to the bottom of this,’ he determined.

  But for the moment he could not see how.

  Hoping to avoid the Earl, Flavia rode to the end of Rotten Row and waited for her father to join her.

  When he did so, he asked her quizzically,

  “Why did you hurry away so quickly? I thought you would be pleased to talk to the Earl.”

  “I did not get the chance, Papa. A rather tiresome man, who pursued me last night, came up and started to ask for a dozen dances or so at the Beaufort’s party tonight. As I have no wish to dance even one dance with him, the only thing I could do was to gallop away.”

  Lord Linwood was frowning.

  “I hope you were not rude to the Earl, my dear. He was a great success with the Prince of Wales last night and I would indeed like to visit Haugton Hall when His Royal Highness is also a guest.”

  Flavia did not answer and, after they had ridden on a little way, Lord Linwood added,

  “I thought he was more pleasant than I expected him to be and the Duchess was saying the most flattering words about him.”

  Flavia did not reply and yet she realised that her father was waiting for her to say something.

  “I think the party was a huge success, Papa,” she answered after what seemed a long pause, “and everyone said how much they enjoyed themselves. If you are not careful, you will find you will have to give another party.”

  “Which I have every intention of doing. The only difficulty will be to find a vacant evening when we are not going somewhere else.”

  “I saw a large number of letters arrive just before we left the house. Of course they may have been bills!”

  Her father laughed.

  “If they are, I will settle them all. But you were a great success and I was very proud of you last night.”

  They rode on for a little while before he added,

  “It was very sweet of you to want to sit with me at dinner, but I really wanted you to get to know the Earl.”

  “But I have no wish to know him, Papa.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “He is too busy with women like the Duchess of Manchester and Aunt Edith told me he has little use for unmarried girls, especially debutantes.”

  Lord Linwood scowled.

  “That is absolute nonsense! You must not believe anything your aunt tells you about anyone as she always exaggerates.”

  “There are lots of charming men in London besides the Earl,” she responded, “so don’t let’s bother about him.”

  She realised that her father’s lips had tightened and he was preventing himself from saying all he really wanted to say.

  He therefore changed the subject and, as Flavia was so astute, she managed to make her father laugh before they arrived back in Grosvenor Square.

  *

  However, later on in the day, a beautiful bouquet of orchids arrived at the house and her father said that he had received a charming letter from the Earl.

  She now realised that she would have to tell the Earl sooner or later why they must not associate with each other, and she wondered if she should write him a letter of thanks for the bouquet.

  Later in the afternoon she was sitting alone in the library reading a book.

  Her father had gone to see the Prime Minister and had promised he would be back for tea even if he was late.

  Because they were going out in the evening, Flavia had no wish to go shopping and anyway she thought that she had enough clothes to last her for a year or more.

  She was enjoying a book about the reign of Charles II when Barker entered.

  “There’s a note for you, Miss Flavia,” he said, “and the messenger’s waiting for an answer.”

  She took the letter from the proffered silver salver and she sensed that she knew who it was from even before she opened it.

  It was short and to the point.

  “I have to have an explanation for what you said to me last night and again this morning.

  I will meet you at any place at any time you suggest where we will not be seen.”

  It was not signed and there was no address at the top of the writing paper.

  Flavia felt the moment had come when she had to answer him.

  They could hardly go on as they were and it could be very threatening if he was not aware that he must play his part in the charade as well as she was doing.

  “I will send an answer,” she said to Barker. “Please come back in five minutes.”

  Barker bowed and left the room.

  Flavia went to her father’s writing table in the next room.

  She wondered if it would be possible for them to sit in separate rooms and she could whisper to him through the secret shelf.

  Then she knew that it was impossible, as it was so important for him not to come to the house.

  Because she was intelligent, she suddenly thought of a solution that would not have occurred to anyone else.

  “Please meet me,” she wrote, “in the Gallery of the Grosvenor Chapel tomorrow morning.

  If you are there at eleven o’clock, I will arrive at eleven-fifteen.”

  She did not sign her name nor did she address the envelope.

  She merely rang the bell and told Barker to take it to the waiting messenger.

  “I don’t know who he is, Miss Flavia,” Barker said, “and when I asked him who the letter were from, he were most cheeky and told me to mind me own business.”

  He was obviously affronted by such impertinence and Flavia wanted to laugh.

  Instead of which she told Barker,

  “It is from someone who wants to meet me without anyone knowing. He is a married man and, of course, I have told him to leave me alone.”

  “I thinks it be sommat like that,” Barker muttered.

  “You are not to tell His Lordship, Barker, for the simple reason it would upset him, as you well know.”

  “Me lips be sealed, miss.”

  Barker took the note and carried it outside.

  Flavia sat making her plans.

  It was not going to be easy, but at least it was very unlikely anyone would see her.

  She had often been to the Grosvenor Chapel when she was a child and she had enjoyed sitting in the Gallery rather than being in the usual pew with her mother.

  “I cannot think why you want to be upstairs in the Gallery,” her mother had commented.

  “I was reading, Mama, that in the East the higher they made their religious buildings, the nearer they thought they were to God.”

  “That’s a very good excuse,” my dear, “for wanting to look down on the people below and seeing
them from an angle at which no one sees oneself!”

  “That’s a good explanation, Mama, and far better than any I can think of.”

  “Very well,” her mother conceded. “When we go to the Chapel, you will sit in the Gallery and I am sure your father will much prefer a pew down below.”

  A compromise was agreed that, when her father was there, they sat in the family pew and when he was not, her nanny or her mother escorted Flavia up to the Gallery.

  *

  She was only hoping there was not a Service taking place tomorrow morning.

  Her father went off early, because he had to go to Windsor Castle, promising to return in time for tea.

  Flavia had the feeling he wanted to report to Lord Carlsby how badly they had progressed with regard to the Earl – and probably to see the Queen and find out the latest developments in the troubles with Russia.

  ‘One thing that will please him,’ Flavia thought, ‘the Earl will not be at the Castle this morning when he is there.’

  She told the housekeeper that she wanted to buy a few items from the shops in South Audley Street and that she would like Molly to go with her.

  Molly was an old housemaid, who had been in her father’s service for over forty years.

  She had refused to retire because she had no home to go to nor did she have any relations who would offer her one. She was going rather blind and suffered from arthritis in her knees.

  “Why do you want Molly?” asked Mrs. Shepherd. “You know she’s getting too old to do anything but just sit about.”

  “Molly has been with us longer than anyone else,” Flavia insisted, “and I would not like her to think she is ignored because she is old, which will happen to us all.”

  “I will not and I will not be going far.”

  She and Molly set out.

  They walked slowly while Molly told her what a beautiful baby she had been and how much she had loved her mother.

  “A kinder lady never left this world,” she said in all sincerity,” and if anyone be in Heaven it be her.”

  “I agree with you, Molly. That is why I am going to the Chapel today where you recall I went when I was small and I am going to say a special prayer for Mama.”