He then told the nightwatchmen who again were men he could trust to forget everything they had seen and speak of it to nobody.
He looked out over a quiet moonlit garden and, thinking that it was difficult to realise what had happened so quickly and so unexpectedly, he went upstairs to Aspasia.
There had been no sign from the Reverend Theophilus and the Marquis was certain that being slightly deaf he had not heard the three shots. Fortunately the servant’s bedrooms all looked out onto the other side of the house.
As he walked up the stairs from the hall, he thought that nothing could have worked out better from everybody’s point of view.
It would be a mistake for Jerry on starting his new life as the Duke of Grimstone to have been in any way involved even indirectly with the death of the Duchess.
For Aspasia too a new world was opening up before her that the shadows of the past must not encroach on.
The Marquis unlocked the door of his bedroom and he had only just come inside before there was a cry that he had somehow expected.
Aspasia rose from the bed and ran across the room and flung herself against him.
“W-what has – happened? Why have you – been so long? I – heard shots and was afraid – desperately afraid – you might have been – killed!”
The tremor on the last words told the Marquis how much she had suffered and he put his arm around her as he said gently,
“It’s all over. You need not be upset any longer. The Duchess is dead!”
“D-dead?”
Aspasia raised her head from his shoulder and he could see in the moonlight coming through the window the astonishment in her eyes.
“I am going to tell you what happened,” the Marquis said, “then we will never speak of it again because the way they died must be kept a secret.”
He drew her as he spoke towards the bed and, as he sat down on it with his arm around her, he realised how very little she was wearing and that she was still trembling, although not as violently as when she had first come to him in terror.
“You are cold,” he said, “and I suggest while I tell you what has happened you get into bed and keep warm.”
Like a child Aspasia obeyed him and, when she was sitting up against the pillows, she pulled the sheets modestly over her shoulders and said,
“Tell me – please – tell me what has happened – I was so – frightened for you.”
“And for yourself,” the Marquis said with a smile.
“And for Jerry and Uncle Theophilus,” Aspasia added. “There is only – you to – protect us.”
“Which I have done very successfully,” the Marquis said with a note of satisfaction in his voice.
“Is it true – really true that the Duchess is – dead?”
“She is dead and therefore she can never hurt you again,” the Marquis answered. “Now Jerry can claim his rightful place and everything in the future will be very different for both of you.”
“If it is – then it is all – due to you,” Aspasia said, “and how can we – ever thank you?”
She put out her hand as she spoke and the Marquis had the idea that it was not so much an expression of gratitude but because she wished to hold onto him and believe what he was telling her was the truth.
Very briefly, in a few words, he told her how he had shot Bollard in the knee, how the man had fallen to the ground and how the Duchess had shot him to prevent him from being questioned but that he had shot her simultaneously.
He spoke quietly. At the same time he was aware of the horror that was reflected in Aspasia’s eyes as her fingers tightened on his.
“They cannot hurt you anymore,” he finished.
“It is still a – terrible way to die – without having time to pray for – forgiveness.”
“Now you are to promise me,” the Marquis said, “that you will forget what I have told you, just as my servants have given me their word of honour that they will not speak of it to anybody.”
He paused before he added,
“The Duchess’s death will, of course, be reported in the newspapers and I will be informed by my Agent that she is dead. It is then that your brother will be able to put forward his claim and I am quite certain that there will be no difficulties about his taking his rightful place as your father’s son.”
“Jerry will be very – happy,” Aspasia said in a low voice.
“And you? You realise you also will have a social position and a very influential one?”
There was silence and then Aspasia answered,
“I think I will be afraid of taking part in that – sort of life without Mama to guide me and – look after me.
“We will talk about it tomorrow,” the Marquis suggested. “Then I will tell you what plans I am making for you.”
Aspasia looked at him enquiringly and he was aware that, although she was making every effort to speak calmly and sensibly, she was still trembling and her voice when she spoke was unsteady.
He rose to his feet.
“I will take you back to your room. You will be safe now.”
He thought that Aspasia would get out of bed, but instead she just stayed where she was. Then as he looked at her questioningly she said in a very small voice,
“I-I cannot – go back to that – room, you will think it very – foolish of me – but I cannot be – alone.”
The Marquis did not speak and after a moment she went on,
“Perhaps I could go to – Martha – or to Uncle Theophilus?”
“I have no wish for either of them to know what has happened,” the Marquis replied.
Then he smiled.
“I think, Aspasia, that the only solution is for you to stay here with me.”
“Can I stay – in the same way as I – did last – night? Aspasia asked.
There was an eagerness in her voice that took away the terror that had been there before.
“It would certainly solve the problem,” the Marquis said, “and I think it important that we should both have a little sleep before a new day begins.”
“I will – not make you – uncomfortable?”
“I will try and bear it,” the Marquis replied and she hoped that he was only teasing.
She moved as far as she could to the other side of the bed and the Marquis put a pillow in the centre of it as he had before.
He did not take off his robe, but climbed into bed on his side. As he put his head down on the pillow Aspasia stammered,
“You don’t – despise me for being – such a – coward?”
“I think you have been very brave through everything that has happened,” the Marquis replied. “Most women both from shock and fear would be having hysterics.”
“I felt – hysterical when you were so – long in coming back.” Aspasia said humbly. “I kept on imagining that Bollard might have – killed you or perhaps – you were – wounded and in pain.”
Her voice told the Marquis what an agony it had been.
Then, as Aspasia recalled how the waiting had seemed like centuries and every second that ticked past had been an agony like being pierced by a dagger that grew and grew with intensity, she suddenly knew why she felt as she had.
It came to her like a revelation that was so extraordinary that she felt as if it was written on the walls in letters of fire.
It was love that had made her feel so agonisingly afraid, not for herself, but for the Marquis!
It was love that had made her know not only that he would save her but that, because he was the one safe bastion in her little world, she could not lose him. When he had left the room her fear was a thousand times more intense and more terrifying because she had been thinking not of herself but of him.
Of course it was love, but she had not realised it, that made her know that if he was killed there would be a despairing sense of loss which she knew her mother must have felt when the Duke had been drowned.
‘I love him in the – same way,’ Aspasia told herself.
<
br /> She lay staring into the darkness, pulsatingly aware that the Marquis was not dead but beside her.
*
Aspasia awoke and for a moment could not think what had happened.
Then she saw the sunshine streaming through the curtains and was aware that she was not beside the Marquis in his bed as she expected but in her own bedroom.
She knew that he must have carried her back, perhaps when dawn broke, and she realised that he had been safe-guarding her against anybody knowing where she had spent the night.
She found it hard to believe that he had carried her without her waking, but she supposed that she had slept the deep sleep of exhaustion. It had inevitably followed the dramatic events of yesterday, while she had gone to bed very late the night before as well.
‘How could so much have happened in so short a time?’ Aspasia asked herself. “But the Marquis has saved us – saved us – all!”
To think of him was to feel as if she saw him in front of her eyes enveloped in rays of light.
Then a thought came to her that made her sit up apprehensively as if she wanted to go to him and ask him to reassure her.
Now that she and Jerry were no longer menaced by the Duchess, the Marquis would feel that he was free of their problems and perhaps she would not see him anymore.
He would, of course, take an interest in Jerry’s claim to the Dukedom, but that would be put forward quite easily by a Solicitor, Aspasia thought, now that they could afford one.
Anyway it was a legal matter that she would play no part in
‘He will leave me and I shall never see him again,’ Aspasia told herself gloomily.
She climbed out of bed because she could not bear to waste a moment away from the Marquis when she might be with him.
‘I must remember everything he says and try to persuade him to help me as long as possible before he finds me – nothing but a – bore.’
It was agony to think of his disappearing out of her life and yet she knew that it was inevitable.
When she and Jerry had watched the Marquis’s horses win, she had learnt not only that he was a great sportsman but that he was constantly with the Prince Regent, a member of the Jockey Club, and obviously a very consequential figure in Society.
Her mother, when speaking of the Duke, had explained to her the life that was led by a Nobleman and there had been people in Little Medlock who had described the entertainment that had taken place at Grimstone before the old Duchess had been taken ill.
When she saw the house, it had been easy for Aspasia to understand how glamorous and impressive such parties had been.
Jerry would be able to entertain in the same way, but Aspasia thought that he would be more interested in the horses he could possess and perhaps in owning a yacht like the one the Marquis boasted.
‘But what will become of me?’ she wondered.
She would be lost and lonely, and perhaps it would be best for her to live at the Vicarage with Uncle Theophilus who, now the Duchess was dead, would not lose the Parish he loved so much.
Martha came to help her dress and Aspasia thought despairingly that she had only the same riding habit to wear and the Marquis would hardly be likely to admire her when she looked dowdy and unlike the beautiful women who must be his companions in London.
She had slept so late that she had breakfast in her bedroom and when she was dressed she went downstairs having learned from Martha that the Marquis intended them to leave soon after eleven o’clock.
Martha did not know where they were going, and Aspasia was suddenly afraid that he was sending her and Uncle Theophilus back to the Vicarage.
There was no reason for him to take care of them any longer and Aspasia was sure that now there was no longer any danger he would merely find her an encumbrance.
Nevertheless, when she entered the Marquis’s study where the butler had told her he was waiting, she felt when she saw him it was as if the room was suddenly enveloped with a celestial light.
When she smiled at her, she felt as if it was so dazzling that she was blinded by it.
“Good morning, Aspasia.”
“I-I am afraid I slept very – late.”
“You were naturally very tired.”
“I did not wake when you – carried me – back to my – room.”
“I made every effort to make sure that you did not do so,” the Marquis smiled. “But now I hope you are ready to leave. We have a long distance to go.”
Aspasia looked at him enquiringly and afraid to ask for an explanation.
“I am taking you to Thame,” the Marquis said, “for reasons I will explain later. But in case you are worried, let me tell you that the precious box belonging to your mother has already left for London.”
Aspasia made an exclamation of delight and he went on,
“I have given my Agent instructions for it to be deposited with my family Solicitors, who will deal most adequately with all the legal aspects of your brother’s case.”
“Oh, thank you,” Aspasia answered. “You are so kind – and I knew that you would know exactly what to do.”
“I am glad that you and Jerry should trust me,” the Marquis said.
“Of course we do,” Aspasia replied.
She wondered what he would say if she added that she loved him, that even to look at him was making her heart beat in a very strange manner and it was hard to speak as well.
Then she told herself that she had to face the fact that she would merely embarrass the Marquis if he had the slightest idea that her feelings were in any way intimate.
She was certain that he looked upon her as a rather tiresome child whom he had helped and saved because it was his duty as a gentleman to do so.
“Why are we going to – Thame?” she asked.
“That is something I was going to explain to you,” the Marquis said, “and I hope it will meet with your approval.”
“Everything will meet with my approval as long – as I can go with you.”
There was such a lilt in her voice and a light in her eyes that the Marquis for the moment seemed surprised.
“What I am going to suggest,” he said, “is that you and I ride across country, which is much the quickest way, while your uncle, your maid and your luggage go by road, which will take well over an hour longer.”
“My – luggage?” Aspasia questioned.
“I sent to the Vicarage for it earlier this morning, before you were awake,” the Marquis said. “Your clothes, your uncle’s and your maid’s arrived here about fifteen minutes ago.”
Aspasia clasped her hands together.
“How can you be so – fantastic?” she asked. “How can you think of – everything?”
“I try to,” the Marquis replied, “and if Charlie was here he would tell you that organisation is something that I have always found interesting. So I hope that you will think that Thame, if nothing else, is well organised.”
Before she reached Thame, Aspasia found that the Marquis’s organising ability extended to providing them with an excellent luncheon at a small wayside inn.
They had ridden for about an hour and a half before they reached it, where the landlord, a large jovial man, welcomed them effusively and took them into a small garden at the side of the inn where a table had been laid under a weeping willow tree.
The garden was unkempt, but it was filled with the simple flowers that reminded Aspasia of the cottages in Little Medlock.
There were marigolds and pansies, roses and forget-me-nots and she thought to herself that because she was alone with the Marquis it was like being in a small Garden of Eden in which nobody else could encroach.
It was a simple luncheon augmented with dishes supplied by the Marquis’s chef in Newmarket, but served by a buxom young woman in a mob cap instead of one of the Marquis’s liveried staff.
“You remembered my lemonade!” Aspasia exclaimed.
“Of course,” the Marquis replied. “I try to remember everything you like and
dislike.”
“I like being here,” Aspasia smiled. “It is so pretty and so simple, and not – frightening.”
The Marquis was about to say something about her being frightened. Then he changed his mind and soon they were riding on over fields and through woods.
To Aspasia it was not only a wonderful experience to be with the Marquis but also to ride a horse which was finer than anything she had ever had the chance of riding before and was trained to respond to her every touch.
“I have wanted to see you on a horse,” the Marquis said unexpectedly. “I had a feeling that you would be a very good rider.”
“I have only ridden horses in the past that Jerry and I bought at the Horse Fairs or from farmers and broke in ourselves.”
“That is something you will never have to do again.”
The Marquis had intended that his remark should give her pleasure, but Aspasia thought he meant that she would be living at Grimstone with Jerry and would be able to ride the horses in his stable.
But she knew that the finest horses in the world would not compensate for not being with the Marquis and not being able to ride beside him as she was doing now.
She looked at him from under her eyelashes, thinking that it would be impossible for any man to look more handsome or to ride better.
She had always thought that Jerry was a good rider, but the Marquis seemed part of his horse and he rode with an expertise that Aspasia could see was exceptional.
They did not talk much after luncheon, but rode for another hour and a half until the Marquis pointed with his whip and said,
“There is Thame!”
Standing on a rising piece of ground with woods behind it and a large lake in front it looked to Aspasia like a Fairy Palace.
If Grimstone had been impressive, Thame was serenely beautiful, and its turrets and towers silhouetted against the sky made her feel that it was not real but part of a dream.
As they rode down the drive, she felt a pang of despair because in a few minutes she would no longer be alone with the Marquis. There would be his servants and within the hour Uncle Theophilus would arrive.
Impulsively she said,
“Thank you for letting me ride here with – you. It was something I shall always remember.”
In the Arms of Love Page 12
