This is Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “That is what I fully intend to do,” the Marquis answered in a voice of determination.

  Athina rose from the sofa.

  “Let’s go and tell Peter that he need no longer be afraid and this is his home from now on.”

  She walked towards the door and the Marquis joined her.

  “That is one problem solved, but you must not forget mine.”

  Athina smiled.

  “Have you let the Queen know that you are now engaged, my Lord?”

  “I have written a letter to the Lord Chamberlain,” the Marquis replied, “but, of course, these things take time and it would seem very strange if, immediately after my appointment, you then threw me out as unwanted.”

  Athina laughed.

  “I will not do that until you tell me it is impossible for the Queen to take back what she had already given you.”

  “Thank you on my behalf,” the Marquis said, “but I think Peter would be very upset if you left here.”

  “Mrs. Beckwith and I are very comfortable at Rock Park,” Athina responded demurely.

  “I really don’t know whether it is me or Mrs. Field who should be gratified by that remark!” the Marquis retorted.

  They were both laughing as they hurried up to the sitting room that had been allotted to Peter as his schoolroom.

  They knew that he would be waiting, trembling and apprehensive, until they reached him.

  *

  The next day Athina felt as if the dark clouds had vanished from the sky.

  Peter was in high spirits as they rode with the Marquis over the estate and he showed them some of the improvements he was making.

  It surprised him how much Athina knew about farming methods.

  He learned that she not only had, as she had told him, a number of breeding mares at Murling Park but also a pig farm, which was doing exceptionally well.

  “That is something I had not thought of,” he admitted. “You must take me over and show me your estate. It is not very far to go.”

  “Not if we ride,” Athina agreed. “But it takes far longer if we go by road.”

  “Then we will ride,” the Marquis said firmly.

  “Please, may I come too?” Peter implored him. “I would love to see Aunt Athina’s horses and find out if they are as good as yours.”

  “They are not,” Athina said, “but I love them just as they are.”

  She spoke a little defiantly and the Marquis was about to answer when Peter intervened,

  “I worry about poor Ladybird. Do you think that Step-Papa is still beating her? Her back was all sores like mine.”

  “I will tell you what I will do,” the Marquis stated. “If indeed your stepfather is hard up, as I think he is, I will, if it is at all possible, buy Ladybird from him. She will be your special horse.”

  “Oh – could you – would you really?” Peter enthused. “She is such a – lovely mare and I don’t – think that anybody was – kind to her – except for me.

  “I promise I will try,” the Marquis replied. “Then you can make her happy at Rock Park with you.”

  “I am happy, very very happy! It’s only when I think about Ladybird that I am sad.”

  “Leave it to me,” the Marquis smiled.

  Athina felt that no one could be kinder or more understanding of the feelings of a small boy.

  Now, as they toured round the estate, the Marquis explained to her why he had stayed away from Rock Park for so long.

  Her father had been wrong in believing that he had only wanted to enjoy himself in London. He was feeling what any young man would, frustrated and offended, because nobody would listen to him.

  His father would not consider even for a single moment the many improvements to the estate that he knew were very necessary.

  “We will go over to Murling Park first thing tomorrow morning,” the Marquis proposed now.

  “We will have luncheon there,” Athina answered, “and perhaps you could send a groom to warn my servants to prepare a good meal.”

  She paused before she added,

  “Mrs. Bell has been the cook ever since I was a small child and, of course, although her food cannot rival that of your chef, I hope you will find it eatable.”

  “I am sure I shall,” the Marquis declared, “and I shall be very interested to see your home.”

  Athina thought that it would be rather fun to show it to him.

  It would not in any way compare with the magnificence of Rock Park.

  It was a very old house and very picturesque and she thought that the Marquis might find it interesting to compare the two estates.

  She was beginning to feel guilty that in staying at Rock Park she was neglecting her duties at home.

  At the same time she knew that it would greatly upset Peter if she left him.

  The Marquis was quite right in thinking that not for a moment did anyone question that their engagement was anything but genuine.

  She thought it highly amusing to be deceiving the Queen of all people.

  Her Majesty had been really unfair in insisting that the Marquis should be married or engaged before he would be able to take up the post of the Master of the Horse.

  “What are you thinking about?” the Marquis asked unexpectedly.

  “I was actually thinking that you will make a very good Master of the Horse and, since your uncle, Lord Edward Rock, was not really a good horseman, I am sure that there will be a great deal to be done to the Royal Stables.”

  “That is what I thought,” the Marquis agreed with satisfaction, “and I intend to make the Queen’s Stud outstanding.”

  Athina was feeling certain that, as in everything else she could mention, he would succeed in his aims.

  She realised that he was in many ways an exceptional man.

  “I shall be very grateful for your advice about Murling Park,” she said aloud. “I have put in many innovations since I have been running it, but when I saw yours I recognised how much more there is for me to do.”

  “I hope you will let me help you,” the Marquis replied simply.

  “I should be very disappointed if you did not,” Athina replied.

  Peter went off sleepily to bed after an early supper.

  At dinner that night the Marquis had insisted that Athina and Mrs. Beckwith celebrate with him the victory that had been won over Lord Burnham.

  They drank champagne and, as they sipped it, Athina asked him,

  “You are quite certain he has not a trump card up his sleeve? Will he do something we have not thought of that will upset Peter?”

  “I doubt it. I have already written to my Solicitors to tell them that he is to receive a considerable sum of money every year so long as he does not dispute my Guardianship and does not interfere with Peter in any way.”

  “That is marvellous!” Athina cried.

  “He needs the money,” the Marquis said in a satisfied tone, “and, if he troubles us in the future, we will simply stop the payments.”

  Athina looked at him with admiration in her eyes. He thought it was certainly an improvement on the way that she had looked at him when they had first met.

  *

  The next morning Peter was in a state of excitement at the idea of going to Murling Park.

  “You must show me all your horses, Aunt Athina,” he urged, “and I expect they will be thrilled to see you.”

  “I am sure they will,” Athina agreed. “And the names that I have given them are Greek just like my own. You must tell them to Mrs. Beckwith who will certainly have a story about each of the Gods and Goddesses who they have been named after.”

  “Mrs. Beckwith’s stories are jolly good,” Peter praised her. “She plays a game with me when we do arithmetic, which makes it fun!”

  Athina knew from her own experience what a clever Teacher Mrs. Beckwith was. She thought, as she had thought before, how fortunate Peter was to have her to teach him

  The one thing that she could not teach him was riding.


  “You are quite certain you don’t want to come with us?” Athina asked her.

  Mrs. Beckwith shook her head.

  “I will come with you another day when we go in the chaise or in his Lordship’s dog cart,” she replied.

  “And I will come with you too,” Peter said. “I want to see the dogs running underneath it.”

  He had already made friends with the Marquis’s Dalmatians and Athina was looking forward to showing him her spaniels.

  She wondered if she could ask the Marquis if she could bring one back with her. But she was concerned that he might object to adding to the dogs that were already running loose about the house.

  The horses were waiting in the drive for them after breakfast.

  Just as they went outside to mount them, Dawson came to tell the Marquis that one of the farmers wanted to see him.

  “There’s been a spot of bother at his farm, my Lord,” he related. “The roof has fallen in.”

  “I had better come to see him at once,” the Marquis answered.

  By now Athina and Peter were already mounted.

  “You two go on ahead,” the Marquis suggested, “and I will catch up with you. I should not be very long.”

  “We will not hurry, my Lord,” Athina replied. “I expect you know the way. It is through Monk’s Wood.”

  “I will find you quite easily,” the Marquis confirmed.

  He then went back into the house.

  Athina and Peter rode out of the courtyard and down the drive towards the lake.

  They crossed over the ancient bridge that spanned it and then they rode under the trees in the Park.

  They disturbed the deer and they moved away from them, but not very fast because they were almost tame.

  At the far end of the Park they could now see Monk’s Wood.

  There was a ride cut through it that led eventually to the Murling Estate.

  Athina remembered that when she was a small girl there had been at one time an extremely heated argument between her father and the late Marquis.

  The Earl had complained to the Marquis that his guests who shot close by Monk’s Wood were killing his pheasants.

  The Marquis on the other hand, asserted that when the Earl shot near to that particular boundary it was the Rock Park pheasants that were being killed. It was an argument that had no ending and had droned on for years.

  It was now a delightfully warm sunny day and the woods looked very beautiful and the leaves of the trees were still the pale green of spring.

  The bluebells were over, but there were still some wild daffodils left to give a touch of gold to the hedgerows and peeping from among their leaves were purple and white violets.

  The path narrowed and Athina led the way with Peter following behind her.

  There was still no sign of the Marquis and she therefore rode more slowly.

  She so wanted to see the expression on his face when he first saw Murling Park.

  It was a low-built house with diamond-paned windows and it had the strange, thick, twisting chimneys of the Elizabethan era.

  Everyone, when they first saw the house, exclaimed immediately at how romantic it looked and she wondered to herself what adjective the Marquis would use.

  They reached the centre of the wood and here the ride was a little wider and Athina pulled in her horse.

  “I wonder what is keeping your uncle?” she asked.

  “He will soon catch up with us if he rides very fast,” Peter replied.

  “I cannot hear him coming,” Athina pointed out a little anxiously.

  Then, as she glanced round, she called out,

  “Look, Peter! There is a poor little bird that must have just fallen out of its nest or been thrown out by a cuckoo.”

  Peter bent forward to look to where Athina was pointing.

  There, sure enough, were two little baby birds lying on the ground with their beaks open.

  He bent down further so that he could take a closer look.

  It saved his life.

  There was an explosion of gunfire and a bullet buried itself in the tree in front of him.

  Athina gave a gasp and Peter exclaimed,

  “What was ‒ that?”

  “Ride! Ride quickly! Go, go!” she shouted at him.

  Obediently he passed her.

  She pulled her horse in behind him to shelter him from any further danger.

  Peter then rode off at a tremendous pace through the wood and Athina just managed to keep up with him.

  As they came to the end of the trees and rode on out into an open field, Peter reined in his horse.

  “Somebody – shot at – me – Aunt Athina!” he exclaimed.

  Before Athina could answer him, she saw the Marquis to her very considerable relief.

  He must have passed through the wood a little higher up and he was now coming down the field at a sharp canter.

  “Tell your uncle what happened,” she said.

  Peter obediently rode towards him.

  As he did so, Athina surmised that they had been too optimistic in believing that they had won the battle.

  Lord Burnham, as she had thought from the very first, would be a relentless enemy.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Peter galloped up to the Marquis.

  “Someone shot at me, Uncle Denzil,” he yelled, “the bullet went straight past ‒ my head!”

  The Marquis stared at him and then he said,

  “Come on, let’s get away from here.”

  He started to ride across the field in the direction of the Murling Estate.

  Seeing what they were doing, Athina followed them.

  They went across another field and only as they reached the trees that bordered the drive of her house did the Marquis pull in his horse.

  “I will tell you what happened,” Athina said as she joined them. “We were riding through the wood slowly as we were waiting for you to catch up with us. Then we stopped to hear if you were coming and I saw a bird that had fallen out of its nest.”

  “There were two, there were two,” Peter interposed.

  “There were two,” Athina corrected herself. “Peter bent forward to look at them and as he did so ‒ a shot rang out and the bullet buried itself in a tree, passing just where Peter’s head would – have been.”

  She saw the Marquis’s lips tighten.

  As her voice faltered, he realised that she was very pale and it had obviously been a tremendous shock for her.

  He put out his hand.

  Athina had already taken off her glove to press her hand to her face and instead she put it into his.

  She felt that the strength of his fingers was very comforting.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “Yes,” she answered. “I-I am all – right.”

  She did not sound very certain about it and the Marquis looked at her searchingly as he said,

  “Let’s go on to your house. I don’t imagine that there is anything we can do at present. The man who fired a shot at Peter will have made a quick getaway by now.”

  As he spoke, Athina saw her gamekeeper coming down the drive with two dogs at his heels.

  She took her hand from the Marquis’s and told him,

  “There is Wilkins, my gamekeeper.”

  The Marquis rode up to the man and, as he touched his forelock, said to him,

  “There is, we think, a poacher in Monk’s Wood. As I cannot get hold of any of my keepers in a hurry, I would be grateful if you would go and see what is happening. Her Ladyship heard a shot as she was coming here.”

  “I’ll go at once, my Lord,” Wilkins answered. “Them poachers be everywhere and they does a lot of damage to the young birds!”

  “I know that only too well,” the Marquis replied.

  The gamekeeper walked away and his dogs followed him.

  When he was out of earshot, the Marquis said,

  “I doubt if he will find anybody there. They would not stay to be caught.”

/>   “Do you think that it was Step-Papa who was trying to – kill me?” Peter asked him nervously.

  “It was probably just a poacher, as I said to the gamekeeper,” the Marquis replied, “shooting the pigeons.”

  He spoke casually, but Athina was well aware that he was trying to prevent Peter from being frightened.

  She knew that she herself was terrified.

  Just how was it possible in the quiet of the country that someone could be lurking on the Marquis’s land waiting to murder Peter?

  It could be Lord Burnham himself.

  But more likely it was someone he had hired to do his dirty work for him.

  ‘What are we – to do? What – are we to – do?’ she asked herself, as they rode on up the drive.

  The Marquis was looking at Murling Park with great interest and, as they neared it, he said,

  “I had completely forgotten, for I have not been here since I was about twelve, how beautiful your house is.”

  “I hoped you would think so,” Athina answered.

  “There is nothing more attractive,” the Marquis went on, “than the pink of all those Elizabethan bricks when they have been mellowed by the centuries.”

  Athina managed to smile. He was right and he was appreciating her home.

  There were two grooms waiting to take their horses and, as they walked up to the front door, an ancient butler opened it.

  Next there was the patter of feet as three small spaniels then came bursting out.

  They all jumped up at Athina barking excitedly because she had come home.

  As she bent to pat them, Peter did the same.

  “They are very pleased to see you, Aunt Athina,” he shouted above the noise that the dogs were making.

  Athina was making a particular fuss of one outstandingly good-looking spaniel.

  “This is Flash,” she said to Peter. “I have had him ever since he was born. He goes everywhere with me when I am at home.”

  “He must have missed you while you were at Rock Park,” Peter remarked.

  “You can see he did,” Athina replied.

  Flash was trying in every way he knew to tell her how glad he was that she was back at home.

  The Marquis was watching.

  As she gave the spaniel a final pat and rose to her feet, he said,

  “I can see I have been very remiss in not including Flash among my guests.”