The Sign of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  They sat on either side of him at meals and vied with each other to keep him laughing and amused.

  But when after dinner the ladies withdrew to the Saloon or were alone at other times, there was a note in the voices of Lady Daisy and Enid Tatham of steel meeting steel.

  Bettina learnt that Lady Tatham was married, but that her husband preferred the country. She had swept like a meteor through London Society followed by a host of admirers but not by the man whose name she bore.

  The rest of the ladies were amused by the battle taking place and seemed quite content with the gentlemen they were obviously paired with for the voyage.

  The nicest of these, Bettina decided, was the Honourable Mrs. Dimsdale who had been kind to her from the moment she arrived.

  “I love your father, Bettina,” she said, “in fact everybody loves Charles Charlwood and we have all tried our best to prevent him from being lonely since he lost your mother.”

  “That is very kind of you,” Bettina exclaimed.

  “When we go back to London I will try to be kind to you too,” Mrs. Dimsdale went on. “I have a niece who is about your age and I know that my sister would be only too delighted to chaperone you to some of the balls this winter.”

  “Thank you very very much,” Bettina said.

  She would have felt out of it with the rest of the party if Mrs. Dimsdale had not always appeared to be pleased to see her when she joined the ladies in the Saloon after dinner.

  She would call her to her side and talk to her while Lady Daisy and Lady Tatham were scratching at each other.

  Last night, when the sea was just beginning to get rough and Bettina knew that the ladies’ nerves were on edge, there had been an explosion.

  Perhaps because they too were afraid of feeling seasick the gentlemen had appeared to drink more than usual of the vintage wines that were served at dinner.

  Bettina suspected that Lord Milthorpe at any rate was rather unsteady on his feet when they all came into the Saloon.

  Of course it may have been the motion of the yacht, but all the gentlemen, with the exception of her father, the Duke and, of course, Lord Eustace Veston, seemed unusually red in the face and had a kind of swimmy-eyed look about their eyes which gave them a somewhat stupid appearance.

  But whatever it was Lord Ivan Walsham walked up to Lady Daisy and put his arm round her waist.

  “You are in damned good looks tonight, Daisy,” he said. “Let’s go out into the moonlight and I will love you.”

  Lady Daisy escaped from his clutches with practised dexterity and replied laughingly,

  “Don’t dare to touch me, Ivan! You know that I belong to Varien and he belongs to me.”

  “Are you so sure of that?” Lady Tatham had enquired briskly.

  There was a distinct challenge in her voice and an expression in her green eyes that was unmistakable.

  Perhaps if the wine at dinner had not been so plentiful Lady Daisy would have made a witty retort, but instead she demanded fiercely,

  “May I enquire what you mean by that?”

  “Do you really want me to tell you and in public?” Lady Tatham asked.

  Now her eyes slanted mysteriously and the twist of her lips was undeniably provocative.

  “You will tell me what you mean,” Lady Daisy screamed furiously, “or I will shake it out of you!”

  She walked forward as she spoke in such a determined way that everyone gave a little gasp.

  Then, as the Duke, who had been behind the other gentlemen, came into the Saloon, Lady Tatham ran towards him in pretended distress.

  “Save me! Save me, Varien!” she cried, flinging herself against him, “from this, this Medusa with snakes in her hair!”

  The Duke, who had not heard what had just been said, looked surprised.

  Because the yacht was rolling, he was forced through sheer courtesy to put his arm round Lady Tatham to prevent her from falling.

  It was then that Lady Daisy slapped her rival in the face and went into hysterics.

  All the ladies present hustled round her while, apparently quite unperturbed by what had happened, the Duke sat down at the card table and asked Sir Charles and two other gentlemen to join him.

  Both Lady Daisy and Lady Tatham retired immediately to their cabins and, because she felt that the episode was extremely embarrassing, Bettina went to hers.

  She was reading in bed when an hour or so later there was a knock on her door and when she called out, “come in,” her father entered.

  “Is anything the matter, Papa?” she asked, surprised to see him.

  “Not exactly,” Sir Charles answered. “But I want to talk to you.”

  He sat down on the side of the bed having to hang onto the brass end to reach it because The Jupiter was now rolling uncomfortably.

  Bettina put down her book and looked at him wide-eyed.

  “I felt after that regrettable scene this evening that we ought to have a little talk,” Sir Charles began.

  “Was it wrong of me to come to bed?” Bettina asked quickly.

  “No, not at all, extremely sensible,” Sir Charles answered, “but I realised when those two women were making fools of themselves that you are really too young for this sort of thing.”

  He paused and then he said in a low voice,

  “Your mother would not have approved of you being here, you know that.”

  Bettina said nothing for she was not quite certain what she should say.

  “You see, my poppet,” Sir Charles went on after a moment, “the Duke, as I think I have told you before, has a reputation for fast living and is known to be what historians call ‘a rake’.”

  “He is very magnificent, Papa.”

  “Too good-looking, too rich and too everything that attracts women and that, Bettina, is the truth in a nutshell.”

  “You mean that women always behave like that when around him?” Bettina asked incredulously.

  “Fairly frequently, I am afraid and I cannot imagine, unless it was out of pure devilment, why he asked Daisy and Enid Tatham together in the same party.”

  “Which one of them is he in love with, Papa?”

  Sir Charles was silent for a minute or two and then he replied,

  “It’s not exactly a question of love, Bettina. I don’t think that Varien has really been in love with anyone for years, if ever.”

  “Then – I don’t – understand.”

  “It is not expected that you should,” Sir Charles said. “I am well aware that I should not have brought you straight from school into a set-up of this sort, but there was no alternative if I was to attend the Opening of the Canal, which I longed to do.”

  “You know how wonderful it will be for me too to be there,” Bettina sighed.

  Her father smiled.

  “No one else was likely to ask us.”

  Bettina smiled back.

  “No, of course not, Papa. So we must not criticise, must we?”

  “You are a very sensible child, Bettina,” Sir Charles patted her hand, “and I am very proud of you. But I admit that I feel rather guilty about it all.”

  “Please don’t, Papa,” Bettina pleaded. “Everyone has been so kind to me and I am enjoying every moment of the voyage. As long as no one quarrels with me or slaps my face, I don’t mind what they do to each other.”

  “But it is wrong. It is not the sort of scenario that you should be mixed up in,” Sir Charles said heavily. “Daisy should surely know better, but then Enid Tatham is doing her damnedest to make trouble,”

  “Is she very much in love – with the Duke?” Bettina asked.

  “She wants him doubtless as a man, but very much more so because he is a Duke,” Sir Charles answered frankly.

  “You mean it would be a feather in her cap if the Duke was talked of as her beau?” Bettina asked, “But what I don’t – understand. Papa, is – ”

  She paused.

  “Well?” Sir Charles prompted.

  “It is what they ultimate
ly expect to get out of having the Duke interested in them. After all Lady Daisy and Lady Tatham are both married and have husbands. He cannot marry either of them.”

  Sir Charles was silent for a moment and Bettina thought that he was choosing his words with care.

  “Of course Varien cannot marry either of the ladies in question,” he said after what seemed a long pause, “and frankly I don’t think he will marry anybody. In fact he has always said he intends to remain a bachelor and Eustace can have the title for all he cares.”

  “He does not want a son?” Bettina enquired.

  “Not enough to give up his freedom for it. As a matter of fact he was married once.”

  “He was?” Bettina exclaimed in surprise. “No one has mentioned it.”

  “It happened so long ago that everybody except Varien himself has forgotten what happened.”

  “Tell me about it, Papa?” Bettina asked.

  “He was married when he was twenty-one, long before I knew him well,” Sir Charles said, “but I do remember that the newspapers were full of the festivities that were given to celebrate both his Wedding and his twenty-first birthday with a huge dinner for the tenants on the Alveston estate, fireworks and all that sort of thing.”

  “What happened then?” Bettina asked curiously.

  “Alveston’s bride was about the same age as himself. It was an arranged marriage, of course, between the fathers on both sides. Their estates marched together and they thought that nothing could be more advantageous for the families than that their lands, like their children, should be joined together.”

  Bettina waited, her eyes on her father’s face.

  “Unfortunately,” Sir Charles continued, “human nature being what it is, the bride and bridegroom loathed each other almost on sight.”

  “Then why did they get married?”

  “I suppose paternal pressure was too strong to resist and most marriages amongst the aristocracy are based on good, sound economic grounds.” Sir Charles answered.

  “Go on, Papa.”

  ‘They were married for nearly a year and Varien’s wife was expecting a child. He has never talked about what happened, but rumour has it that they had a seething row, one of the many that had taken place after they married, and she went out hunting when he told her not to and had a fall, which killed both herself and the unborn child.”

  Bettina gave a little exclamation.

  “Oh, Papa, how horrifying!”

  “It certainly soured Varien’s attitude towards marriage and, when a few years later, he became the Duke he did exactly what he wanted. He had many of what the French call ‘affaires de coeur’, but always with married women.”

  “Do – do the husbands never mind or become – jealous?” Bettina asked in a hesitating voice.

  She was not quite certain exactly what happened when a man had an affaire de coeur. But she knew that the Prince of Wales had caused a great deal of interest in France two years ago when the newspapers publicised his relationship with the actress, Hortense Schneider.

  The girls at school had come back after the holidays sniggering and giggling about the Prince and Hortense and later they had a great deal more to say about the Prince and the Princesse de Sagan.

  The de Sagan Château was where the Prince of Wales stayed when he took one of his trips abroad, which were always en garçon while Princess Alexandra visited her parents in Copenhagen.

  The French pupils were not being rude about Le Prince de Galles when they described the Prince’s love affairs or criticised his behaviour.

  It was actually what they admired about him and Bettina found herself, because she was English and her father was a friend of the Prince’s, being envied.

  In a way some of the glitter and glamour of the Prince of Wales himself rubbed off on her.

  Therefore it did not surprise her that the Duke should have love affairs. It was only that the behaviour of the two women he admired made them seem less romantic and less glamorous than she had expected.

  She had a feeling that the Duke was so magnificent and so splendid in appearance that the women he bestowed his favours on should be his equals.

  Sir Charles’s eyes were on Bettina’s face as she thought over what he had told her and now, because she realised that he was really perturbed about her, she took his hand in both of hers and said,

  “You are not to worry about me, Papa. I am so happy to be with you and it is so exciting to be going to Egypt that nothing else matters – really nothing.”

  Sir Charles gave a sigh of relief.

  Then, as if it was always at the back of his mind, he asked,

  “How are you getting along with Eustace?”

  “He has read me two of his pamphlets, Papa.”

  “Encourage him,” Sir Charles suggested, “make him talk to you about his ambitions for the future. You could help him, Bettina, and, quite frankly, I think he needs help.”

  “He is so very serious-minded, Papa, and I am afraid that he heartily dislikes the Duke.”

  “You must try to persuade him to take a more human view of life,” Sir Charles said lightly. “And now I must be getting back.”

  “Are you still playing cards, Papa?”

  “Yes, Walsham cut in while I came to talk to you, but they are expecting me back at the card tables.”

  “And they miss you,” Bettina added with a smile. “Everyone loves you, Papa. You never quarrel with anyone.”

  “It’s a luxury I cannot afford,” Sir Charles replied jokingly.

  As they both laughed, he bent down and kissed her cheek.

  “Goodnight, Bettina. You are very pretty and, if Varien keeps to his vow of remaining a bachelor, I may see you a Duchess yet.”

  Bettina did not reply. She watched her father walk carefully to the door and heard him move away down the passage.

  Then she sat staring ahead of her, but she was thinking of the Duke and his disastrous marriage.

  *

  Now with the sea-wind in her face her thoughts returned to what her father had said to her and she knew that, if she was doing what he wanted, she would have waited in the Saloon in the hope that Lord Eustace would join her.

  She had already listened to two of his pamphlets and he had explained to her in some detail the work that he was undertaking amongst the ‘down-and-outs’ in the slums of London.

  It was all rather difficult to understand how they could be saved or their lives changed in any major way.

  But she thought it very commendable that a young man should spend so much time worrying over what she was certain most people would consider riff-raff and not worth a second thought.

  She only wished that Lord Eustace need not be so sombre and gloomy about everything.

  “Surely something has been done for these people?” she had asked him.

  “Very little,” he had replied. “The Government is not interested in spending money on such poverty-stricken creatures.”

  “Why do you not go into Parliament?”

  Lord Eustace had paused for a moment before he replied,

  “One day I hope to be in the House of Lords!”

  She knew that he meant by this that he would one day succeed to his half-brother’s place as the Duke of Alveston.

  Because his was only a courtesy title he was not eligible for the House of Lords, but could enter the House of Commons as an ordinary elected member.

  There could be, Bettina reckoned, only eleven or twelve years between the half-brothers so surely that did not entitle Lord Eustace to expect that the Duke would die early so that he could inherit while still young enough to lead an active political life.

  She was, however, reluctant to ask further questions, but merely forced herself to listen attentively as he read her the notes that he had made for another pamphlet.

  This on slum clearance was to be distributed to Members of Parliament and all rich men whom he thought might give him money for his charities.

  She had the feeling, alth
ough she did not like to say so, that the pamphlets were written in a hectoring and dictatorial manner that would discourage rather than evoke sympathy for the objectives that he was striving for.

  She wondered if she could suggest that a more conciliatory tone might more effectively produce the funds he obviously needed so urgently.

  Then she told herself that, while Lord Eustace was willing her to be an appreciative audience, he was not asking her to be a critic.

  Bettina found her sheltered spot at the stern of the yacht and, although the spray from the waves had splashed over her on the way there, the water had rolled off her oilskins.

  She sat down and made herself comfortable, but she did not open her book.

  Instead she looked at the rolling sea, at the shafts of sunshine coming between the clouds and thought it was all exquisitely beautiful just like a painting by Turner.

  There was a sense of freedom in the open sea that she had never felt anywhere else.

  She had found it hard these past years to be confined at school and confined also during the holidays.

  Her father had not suggested that she should return to England for the holidays and she had either remained at school with two or three other girls whose homes were far away or had stayed with her French friends who had kindly invited her to their houses.

  She had been interested in seeing the way that the French people lived and with one friend she had been able to ride and with another attend some of the Operas in Paris and visit the Museums and Art Galleries.

  French girls lived a very sheltered life, always chaperoned and never taking part in the entertainments of their parents until they were grown up and at times Bettina had missed her mother and father unbearably.

  But now when everything could have been delightfully different, she had to exchange one secluded life for another.

  If she married, as her father had told her was imperative, then she would be under the jurisdiction of a husband who might prove even more stringent than Madame de Vesarie.

  She gave a deep sigh at the thought of her future and as she did so a voice came from behind her,

  “So this is where you are hiding yourself! I thought I saw someone struggling along the deck and could not believe that any woman in my party would be so adventurous.”