They were anxious to contribute new ideas and to work the new methods that their employer demanded.
It was, the Marquis thought, the most exciting adventure that he had ever embarked on.
What he did not want was to have to share it with some tiresome young woman, who would always be thinking of herself and nothing or no one else.
She would not have the least understanding why he should exert himself in this manner.
He was dreading the very idea of her as he drove up the drive.
He was welcomed home by Dawson the butler, who had been the butler at Rock Park ever since he was a boy.
Walking across the Great Hall, the Marquis told himself that this was his, every inch of it.
Why should he want anything more?
To hell with the position of Master of the Horse!
His own horses were far finer than any in the Royal stables.
He could be content to let Her Majesty look after her own animals without any help from him.
Then he knew that, wonderful though Rock Park was, it was not enough for him.
He wanted more, much more.
He wanted the power that was part of the Monarchy. The power to contribute to the Nation by improving first of all the horses in the Royal stables.
Then perhaps he would serve England in some other capacity in which only he could excel.
‘I have to do it, I have to!’ he told himself.
But he knew with a sinking of his heart that he was not permitted to do it alone.
*
The Marquis spent a surprisingly peaceful night.
He had expected to be awake worrying over his future. Instead, because he had already stressed himself out, he slept until dawn.
He had told his valet to call him early, but he was up and half-dressed before the man appeared.
“You’re right early, my Lord,” the valet remarked.
“I have a great deal to do,” the Marquis replied.
The most important thing that he had to do, he told himself, was something that he did not want to even think about.
The valet knew that his Master would want breakfast earlier than expected, so he quickly sent a footman to warn the chef.
By the time the Marquis entered the breakfast room there were six entrée dishes already on the sideboard and Dawson was carrying in the silver coffee pot.
He had known the Marquis long enough to realise that something was wrong.
He was therefore aware that it would be a mistake to be talkative and he certainly must not ask the Marquis questions.
He put the silver coffee pot down in front of the Marquis, who was sitting at the head of the table, and then left the room.
Breakfast was the one meal when the servants of the house did not wait at table.
This was an old tradition, the Marquis thought, that should not be changed. He so much preferred helping himself and being able to read the newspaper without having to put up with anyone moving about in the room and asking stupid questions.
He was therefore surprised as he started to eat a dish of kidneys and mushrooms when he heard the door open behind him.
“Excuse me, my Lord,” Dawson said, “But Lady Athina Ling has called.”
“At this hour?” the Marquis exclaimed.
He then tried to remember who Lady Athina Ling was. The name seemed to ring a bell, but for the moment he could not recall her.
“Lady Athina,” Dawson said respectfully, “is the daughter of the late Earl of Murling whose estate marches with your Lordship’s.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” the Marquis answered.
“Her Ladyship apologises to you for disturbing you so early in the morning, my Lord, but she says it’s on a very urgent matter.”
The Marquis decided immediately that it would be rude to send her away.
He therefore replied,
“Tell Lady Athina that I will see her as soon as I have finished my breakfast, but I am in fact going riding.”
“I’ll inform her Ladyship,” Dawson replied and left.
The Marquis deliberately went over to the sideboard and poured himself another cup of coffee.
‘What can the damned woman want at this hour of the morning?’ he fumed to himself.
He wanted to ride over his own land on his own horse and try to clear his thoughts in the fresh air
He did not want to talk to anybody, he just wanted to think.
He had nevertheless the most uncomfortable feeling that, however much he thought about the dilemma that he was facing, there was no solution.
CHAPTER FOUR
Only as she walked up the steps to the front door of Rock Park with Peter holding her hand tightly did Athina realise that it was much too early for anyone to be making a call on anyone.
She had been so afraid that Lord Burnham might overtake her on the road and snatch Peter away from her.
She had thought of nothing but reaching Rock Park as a haven of safety.
The door was then opened promptly by a footman and, when she and Peter entered the hall, a grey-haired butler came forward.
“I should be grateful if I could see the Marquis of Rockingdale immediately,” she asked. “It is on a very urgent matter.”
Thinking that the butler looked slightly sceptical, she continued,
“I am Lady Athina Ling.”
The butler’s face lit up and he said,
“Of course, my Lady. I well remember the late Earl coming here often.”
He went ahead and showed her into a study.
There were some fine pictures of horses by Stubbs on the walls and the room contained comfortable masculine furniture all covered in red leather.
The butler went out of the room and Peter asked,
“Is it my uncle who we are going to see? I don’t think I remember him.”
“I would expect you will when you see him again,” Athina said confidently.
She nearly added,
‘He must have been at your mother’s funeral,’ and then thought that it might upset Peter.
Instead she went on,
“This is a beautiful house and I am sure that your mother loved playing in these big rooms when she was a little girl.”
“She used to tell me about the swing in the garden and a little house in the trees,” Peter said as if he were just recalling it.
The butler came back to say,
“His Lordship’ll see you, my Lady, as soon as he’s finished his breakfast.”
“Thank you,” Athina replied, “and, as I would like to speak to him alone, I wonder if it would be at all possible to give Lady Louise’s son, Peter, who is here with me, something to eat? We have come a long way and I am sure that he is both hungry and thirsty.”
“Master Peter!” the butler exclaimed. “I wondered who the young gentleman was and thought he resembled someone I knew. Of course, it’s Lady Louise!”
He was obviously pleased at meeting Peter and then, putting out his hand, he suggested,
“If you’ll come with me now, Master Peter, I’ll give you some breakfast and show you the secret safe in my pantry that your mother used to love when she was your age.”
Peter looked interested.
“Why is it a secret?” he wanted to know.
They went from the room and Athina could hear the butler telling Peter about the silver safe as they went down the passage.
She walked over to the window to look out at the lake a little way below the house.
She could see swans and ducks swimming in it and beyond it in the Park that they had just driven through was a herd of spotted deer.
It was all so beautiful and looked so peaceful.
It seemed really incredible that one of the family, so young and so vulnerable, should be treated in such a horrifying manner.
The door opened and the Marquis came in.
Athina turned around slowly.
She thought at a quick first glance that he was younger and more hands
ome than she might have anticipated.
She had no idea that the Marquis was astonished at her looks and she was so very different from what he had expected.
He walked across the room and held out his hand.
“How do you do, Lady Athina. I don’t think we have ever met but I remember your father well. And I was extremely sorry to learn of his death.”
“As you can imagine, I miss him very much,” Athina replied.
“So what can I do for you?” the Marquis asked in a brisk tone. “I expect that Dawson, my butler, has told you that I was just about to go riding.”
“I would not have called so early,” Athina explained, “if it had not been of the utmost importance that directly concerns your nephew, Peter Naver.”
The Marquis looked surprised.
“What has he been up to?” he asked. “And how does it concern you?”
Athina sat down on a sofa that stood next to the fireplace.
“Last night,” she began, “I had to stay at a Posting inn called The Crown and Feathers. While I was having dinner, I noticed at a table close to me a gentleman who was being noisily aggressive to a small boy.”
“You were staying alone?” the Marquis queried unexpectedly.
“I had had a slight accident to the wheel of my chaise,” Athina replied, “and was unable to proceed until early this morning.”
She thought that his interruption was unnecessary and went on,
“I was just going to sleep in my bedroom when I heard a small boy, who I afterwards learnt was your nephew, screaming in the next room.”
The Marquis frowned.
“Why was he screaming?”
“He was screaming,” Athina replied, “because his stepfather, who I understand, is Lord Burnham, was furious because he had gone to the stables to comfort a horse that Lord Burnham had whipped on the journey.”
She then paused a moment and this time the Marquis did not say anything,
“To punish him,” Athina continued, “he whipped the poor boy unmercifully until he was almost unconscious.”
There was silence as the Marquis stared at Athina as if he could hardly credit what she was saying.
Then he commented,
“I cannot believe that my brother-in-law could be so cruel as you imply. After all small boys often require correction. There is nothing unusual about their being spanked.”
“This was no question of being spanked,” Athina replied sharply. “He was beaten unmercifully with a whip that left open weals on his skin.”
The Marquis walked across the room to his desk and then back again before he said,
“I quite understand, Lady Athina, that you were upset but I assure you most boys do get whipped at some time or another. I have always believed that my nephew is being well looked after by his stepfather. So it would be incorrect for me to interfere in his upbringing.”
Athina rose to her feet.
She was thinking that her father had been right in everything he had said about the Marquis.
She had slept very little last night and was tired from the journey and now she felt her temper rising.
She did not speak, however, but walked towards the door.
“Where are you going?” the Marquis asked as she reached it.
Athina turned back.
“As you have lived up to your reputation, my Lord,” she said, “I will tell you exactly what I am doing. I am taking Peter to Windsor Castle. I will show the Queen how brutally a Peer of the Realm has marked the child and will warn her that her new Master of the Horse is likely to treat Her Majesty’s own horses in the same manner.”
If she had thrown a bomb at the Marquis, he could not have been more surprised.
Never in his whole life had a woman spoken to him in such a way.
It seemed incredible that anyone so small, so fragile and beautiful, should so insult him in his own house.
Athina started to open the door.
The Marquis then realised abruptly that she would undoubtedly do what she had threatened.
She would indeed go to Windsor Castle and he was well aware of the damage it would cause him.
Quickly he turned and walked swiftly towards her saying,
“Forgive me, Lady Athina, if I sounded in any way callous. Of course I am concerned about my sister’s child.”
Athina stood still, but she did not speak and he said again,
“Please forgive me and let’s discuss this sensibly. I am convinced now that you are not exaggerating the situation, as I had first thought.”
Slowly and somewhat reluctantly Athina closed the door and she then turned back into the room.
As she did so, she looked at the Marquis and he knew that he had never seen a woman look at him with such contempt. j
He found it hard to believe that she disliked him as much as she appeared to do.
“Come and sit down,” he proposed in his most engaging tone.
Again slowly, as if she was only half-persuaded to do so, Athina walked back to the place that she had vacated on the sofa.
“Now let’s start from the beginning,” the Marquis suggested, “and try to forget that I said all the wrong things and so upset you.”
He had never met a woman who did not succumb to his charm when he pleaded with her.
He was aware, however, that Athina was sitting very straight and stiff on the edge of the sofa.
He could feel her hostility vibrating from her.
“Let me explain to you,” the Marquis continued, “that when my sister died she left her son in the charge of her second husband, Lord Burnham.”
Athina made no comment and he went on,
“In fact she made a will, leaving her money, which amounted to a considerable sum, since she had a large private fortune left to her by her Godfather, to Peter with Lord Burnham as the Administrator of it until Peter reached the age of twenty-one.”
He paused and then added as if he was trying to remember the exact wording that had been used,
“If anything happened to Peter before then, the money was to go to Lord Burnham and not back to the mother’s family as might have been expected.”
Now he made a little gesture with his hand before he said,
“You can understand why I was not concerned in any way as to where my nephew lived or what he did. Nor have any of my relatives, who have seen him, made any complaints as to the way he is being treated.”
Even as he spoke the Marquis remembered something.
Someone had told him that Lord Burnham had been short of cash before his wife died.
Perhaps it was a chance remark because he could not recall who had said it. Nor had it made any real impact on him at the time.
Now, however, it now struck him that it was, of course, extremely convenient for his brother-in-law to have the care of a child who was so rich.
There was still no response from Athina to what he had just said.
So after a moment the Marquis went on,
“I will, of course, speak directly to Lord Burnham and tell him of your complaint and we can only hope that he will be kinder to the boy in the future.”
“I heard the way that Lord Burnham was behaving last night,” Athina said slowly, “and I would not allow any child, not even one who is older and stronger than Peter, to be in that brute’s care for another five minutes!”
She drew in her breath before she added,
“I brought Peter here to you because I thought that you would save him and protect him. If you refuse to do anything, then I will! Even if it means taking Peter to Windsor Castle or going abroad with him.”
The Marquis looked bewildered.
“I don’t quite understand. Are you saying that you have brought the boy here to me?”
“I thought that your butler would have told you,” Athina said. “I smuggled him away at five o’clock this morning. We have driven at great speed because I was afraid that Lord Burnham would overtake me and snatch Peter away from me.”
She saw that the Marquis was still looking somewhat puzzled and she explained,
“We had no time for breakfast and, as I wanted to speak to you alone, your butler has taken Peter to have something to eat.”
“In that case before we go any further I would like to meet my nephew.”
Athina rose from the sofa with her head held high and then the Marquis hurried to open the door for her.
She was disliking him intensely for not being appalled by this obvious cruelty to a child.
They walked down the corridor towards the hall.
The Marquis was wondering where Dawson had taken the boy when the butler appeared.
“If you’re looking for Master Peter, my Lady,” he said to Athina, “I gave him some breakfast, but he couldn’t eat much because his back was hurting him. So I’ve taken him upstairs to Mrs. Field. She’ll know what to do.”
“Mrs. Field is my housekeeper,” the Marquis explained.
“Thank you,” Athina said to the butler, “I would like to go up to him.”
“I will take you,” the Marquis suggested.
They walked up the impressive staircase side by side in silence.
When they reached the first floor, the Marquis turned left and they walked a long way down a wide corridor.
He then opened a door that was covered in green baize, which Athina knew would lead into the servants’ part of the house.
After they had passed through it, he opened another door on the right hand side of the corridor.
They walked into a sitting room where the sunshine was pouring in through tall windows.
Peter was standing in front of one of the windows in his trousers and without his shirt.
An elderly woman with a kind face was examining his back.
When he saw Athina come into the room, Peter gave a cry and ran to her.
He held out his arms and Athina went down on her knees and, as he flung himself against her, she pulled off her hat so that it was easier to kiss him.
He put his arms round her neck and his cheek against hers.
“I thought – you had – gone – away,” he stuttered.
“No, no, of course, I would not do that,” Athina comforted him. “I am here and I understand your back is hurting you.”
This is Love Page 6
