Warned by a Ghost

by Barbara Cartland

In the Chippendale bookcase there was, the Marquis knew, a great number of books on war and biographies of famous Generals.

  He then heard Sedela calling for him and he went from the study into the hall.

  She had changed into a riding skirt and short boots.

  And because it was hot she was wearing with it only a white muslin blouse and no jacket.

  “I am ready,” she said, “and you must admit that I have not kept you waiting long.”

  “I am, of course, grateful,” the Marquis said. “But do you really intend to ride behind me?”

  “It is only just across the Park,” Sedela replied, “and it seems a waste of time to saddle one of my horses.”

  She lowered her voice as if she felt that she might be overheard before she added,

  “Poor old Abbey is getting very old and very slow.”

  “I remember him,” the Marquis admitted. “Do you mean to say he is still working for you?”

  “It would break his heart if we put him – out to grass,” Sedela smiled.

  They went out through the front door.

  The boy who had taken Flash away when the Marquis arrived came hurrying with him from the stables.

  “Have you had any trouble with him?” the Marquis asked.

  “Nay, my Lord, ’e’s bin good as gold,” the lad replied.

  The Marquis picked Sedela up in his arms and lifted her onto the saddle.

  “I said I would sit behind you,” she protested.

  “Nonsense,” he replied. “We will ride as I used to see you riding with your father when you had just cut your first tooth.”

  Sedela chuckled.

  “All right,” she said, “if you want to be uncomfortable, you go ahead. I expect whatever I say you will have your own way.”

  “Of course!” the Marquis declared. “You had better get used, now that I am home, to my giving you orders.”

  “Now you are definitely being pompous,” Sedela objected, “and that is something you never used to be.”

  The Marquis had swung himself up onto the horse’s back behind her.

  Because she was so small and slender there was room for him to sit on the back of the saddle and hold her in front of him.

  He did not intend to go very fast.

  As they moved into the Park he thought how lovely the sunshine was coming through the trees and sparkling on Sedela’s hair.

  It made him think of how at first he had thought that it was the stars on Lady Constance’s.

  He wanted once again to ask her who had told her about Lady Esther and Lord Bayford.

  Then he knew that Sedela was right and she had said that it was a mistake now to think of anything except the present.

  It took them only a short time to reach the stables.

  The grooms looked surprised when they saw Sedela sitting on the front of the Marquis’s saddle.

  She slipped easily to the ground without any help and then the Marquis dismounted.

  “Saddle Mayflower,” he ordered, “and Miss Sedela will ride Flash.”

  The grooms hurried to obey him and Sedela asked,

  “Are you going to buy any more horses?”

  “I fully intend to,” the Marquis replied.

  “There are some coming up for sale that I think you should look at.”

  “In Hertfordshire?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “I don’t think that you will remember him, but there was a man, a newcomer to the County, called Reid, who bought Ashton House after Lord Ashton died, and had some very fine horses.”

  The Marquis was listening with interest as Sedela went on,

  “Mr. Reid was an elderly man when he came here and he intended setting up a stable for his son who, like you, was fighting against Napoleon.”

  Before she said it, the Marquis knew the end of the story.

  “And I suppose his son was killed?” he asked.

  Sedela nodded.

  “It so shocked Mr. Reid that he had a heart attack and, although he recovered partially, he died a few weeks ago.”

  “A sad story,” the Marquis remarked quietly.

  “There is to be a sale arranged by his Executors in a week’s time,” Sedela told him. “I am sure that it would be worth your while inspecting the horses now before it takes place.”

  “We will go there immediately after luncheon,” the Marquis suggested. “Now we will take Flash and Mayflower over the jumps.”

  He knew that Sedela was thrilled by the idea.

  As soon as Mayflower was saddled, they entered the paddock and, although the Marquis had a little trouble with Mayflower, both horses appeared to greatly enjoy the exercise.

  Back at the house Hanson told them that luncheon was ready.

  “I will just wash my hands,” Sedela said running up the stairs and the Marquis waited until she returned.

  Mrs. Benson had prepared a really excellent meal.

  There were, however, so many things that Sedela wanted to tell the Marquis that he hardly knew what he was eating.

  She gave him a summary of everything that had happened in the neighbourhood while he had been away.

  She continually reiterated what a difference it would make now that he was finally home.

  “There are so many things for you to do,” she enthused, “but I was afraid that London would swallow you up.”

  “That is what it was trying to do,” the Marquis admitted, “but I suppose my first duty is here.”

  “You know it is,” Sedela said. “This is your Kingdom, where you reign like a King. However important you may be in London, it cannot be the same as this.”

  “I doubt if many people would agree with you,” the Marquis replied.

  He saw Sedela’s eyes flash before she asked,

  “What do you really feel about it, Ivan?”

  “You are trying to make me admit that you are right,” he answered, “but I have to be convinced that being just a ‘Country Squire’ will not very quickly become nothing but a bore.”

  He was teasing Sedela, but she retorted angrily,

  “How can you say anything so ridiculous? The Marquis of Windlesham could never just be a Country Squire and the farmers, not only in this County but everywhere in England, need somebody to champion them, now that they are being so badly treated.”

  The Marquis raised his eyebrows as she went on,

  “You must be aware, even though you have been away, that the prices for farm produce have slumped now that the War is over and farmers are going bankrupt one after the other because they cannot sell their crops.”

  The Marquis knew that this was true, but it had not occurred to him that it was something that called for action by him.

  “If you want me to fight for the farmers,” he said, “I shall have to go to London to speak in the House of Lords.”

  “Of course you must,” Sedela agreed, “but speaking in Parliament on behalf of the people is very different from – ”

  She stopped.

  She was thinking of Lady Esther and the Marquis knew what she was going to say.

  Because he had no wish to discuss that subject with Sedela he said,

  “I think if we are going to Ashton House we should leave now.”

  “Yes, of course,” Sedela agreed.

  She jumped up from the table and walked towards the door.

  By the time the Marquis reached the hall she was already mounted on Flash and they set off for Ashton House by the quickest route, which was across the fields.

  It took them a little under half-an-hour to reach the estate.

  The house looked empty and somewhat sad as they rode up the drive.

  “Now that Reid is dead,” the Marquis said, “I hope whoever takes over here will be an asset to the neighbourhood.”

  “That is what I am hoping for,” Sedela nodded.

  “Of course, what you need is a good-looking, charming young man,” the Marquis said, “who is not yet married and will undoubtedly fall in lo
ve with you!”

  “That is a ridiculous idea!” she flashed back. “Since the house is large – much too large for a bachelor – the new owner will probably be middle-aged with at least half a dozen children!”

  “Then we shall have to look elsewhere for a husband for you,” the Marquis remarked.

  “Why are you so busy trying to marry me off?” Sedela enquired.

  “Since you are more or less one of the family,” the Marquis answered, “and living at my gates, I feel partly responsible for you.”

  “I am delighted that you should think so, but I am not allowing you, or anyone else, to choose my husband for me.”

  “But that is what as Head of the Family I shall have to do,” the Marquis argued. “In the best of families a marriage is always arranged so that blood marries blood and, as you possess Windle blood, no one can deny that you qualify.”

  Sedela laughed.

  “It all sounds very plausible, but I assure you, Ivan, I have no intention of letting you arrange my marriage, any more than you would allow me to arrange yours!”

  As she spoke, the Marquis could not help remembering she had in fact ‘dis-arranged’ his.

  He knew at once that she was thinking the same thing.

  They rode on in silence, the Marquis thinking,

  ‘I will not have Esther intruding on me in everything I say and everything I think. I made a mistake and now I have to forget it!’

  At the same time he was determined to be very very careful whom he did marry.

  It was inevitable that he should do so sooner or later, for he had to have an heir to his title and estates.

  His father had always regretted that he had had only one son.

  ‘I should have had three or four brothers,’ the Marquis thought. ‘Then there would not be the urgency for me to carry on the family name.’

  But it was something that he knew he had to do.

  It was unthinkable that, after the Windles had succeeded from father to son for centuries, the line should end with him.

  It was something that he should have thought about more seriously.

  Instead he had been swept off his feet by Esther’s beauty and passionate appeal and he had not considered whether she had the right type of character to be his wife.

  ‘I was a fool, a complete fool,’ the Marquis reproached himself. ‘But it will not happen again!’

  They rode into the stable yard of Ashton House and a man who was obviously the Head Groom looked at them.

  Then, as the Marquis dismounted, he grinned and said,

  “Afternoon, my Lord! I thinks that you’d be a-payin’ us a visit.”

  “You know me,” he asked. “Should I know you?”

  “I be Wilkins, my Lord, as started as a lad in your Lordship’s stable.”

  “Of course!” the Marquis exclaimed. “I thought I knew your face, but you are much older than the last time I saw you.”

  Wilkins laughed.

  “That be true, my Lord. I ’ad the opportunity of comin’ ’ere when Mr. Reid first arrives and ’is late Lordship gives me such a good reference that ’e took me on straight away.”

  “I am quite sure that you served him very well, Wilkins,” the Marquis said, “and I would like to have a look at the horses.”

  “If they don’t please your Lordship, I be very surprised.”

  He touched his forelock to Sedela saying,

  “I knows it were you, Miss Sedela, as told is Lordship to come over, but I never expected ’im so soon!”

  “The sooner the better!” Sedela said. “As you are aware there is plenty of room for new horses at Windle Court.”

  Going to the stables the Marquis found that Sedela had not exaggerated when she had told him that the horses were worth buying.

  Mr. Reid, being a wealthy man, had only bought the best and those he had acquired as yearlings had, over the past few years, become outstanding.

  The Marquis selected six horses that he wished to buy.

  He agreed to the price that Wilkins asked for them without any prevarication.

  The Head Groom was obviously delighted at having made the sale.

  The Marquis expected, however, that the executors might not be best pleased as it was perceived to be a mistake to withdraw exceptional horses before a public auction.

  “I tell you what I will do,” the Marquis said. “There are a number of horses in my stable that are now a little too old for what I require of them, but are still capable of several years of work that is not too strenuous.”

  “I knows exactly what you means, my Lord,” Wilkins said, “and it’d be a good idea to put ’em under the ’ammer.”

  “Right,” the Marquis agreed, “I will send them over for you tomorrow.”

  He walked towards Flash.

  And then he said,

  “By the way, if you are looking for a job, Wilkins, I would be happy to have you back at The Court as long as you are prepared to work for a year or two under Barker who will, I think, be retiring when he is sixty-five.”

  Wilkins gave a gasp.

  “I’d rather come back to Windle Court than go anywhere else, my Lord! Me family be in the village and it’ll be just like comin’ ’ome.”

  “Well, that is settled,” the Marquis smiled.

  As soon as they rode away, Sedela exclaimed,

  “That was wonderful of you! I know Wilkins would rather come back to you than go to some other employer, but I did not like to suggest it, in case you thought that I was intruding.”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “I think I had better make it clear, once and for all, Sedela, that you have set yourself the task of helping me re-establish myself in the way that I most properly should. Therefore nothing you say or do to help me can be anything but the action of one member of the family on behalf of another.”

  Sedela made a murmur of delight.

  “That is what I wanted you to say, but I warn you that there is a difficult task ahead of you and you must not blame me if I ask too much.”

  “If you are too hard a taskmaster,” the Marquis replied with a grin, “I can always leave for London and the glittering lights!”

  It flashed through his mind as he did so that Esther would surely be waiting for him.

  Then he was annoyed with himself for thinking about what he was trying to forget.

  “I will keep you here,” he heard Sedela say, “even if I have to chain you to the ground in order to do so!”

  *

  Lady Esther walked into her drawing room with a bundle of letters in her hand.

  She had picked them up off the hall table when she entered the house.

  She looked at them one by one.

  She did not open them, but threw them down onto a table with an air of disgust.

  She had reached the last one when Lord Bayford came in.

  “Oh, there you are, Roger!” she exclaimed. “Any news?”

  “Nothing different from what you have heard before,” Lord Bayford replied. “I called at Windle House and was told that his Lordship was in the country on family business and his secretary had received no instructions as to when he would be returning.”

  “It’s intolerable!” Lady Esther cried. “You know as well as I do that Ivan will be bored in the country and he cannot stay there for ever just to avoid me!”

  “I suppose there has been no answer to your letters?” Lord Bayford enquired.

  “Not a sign of one,” Lady Esther replied pointing at the pile of letters on the table.

  She walked across the room and back again.

  She was looking exquisitely lovely, Lord Bayford thought.

  Her green gown accentuated the whiteness of her skin and her bonnet was trimmed with ostrich feathers and haloed her beautiful face.

  He thought it was extraordinary that Windlesham, who had been obviously obsessed with Esther, could discard her quite so easily.

  He had, of course, intruded upon them together in a very unfort
unate manner.

  But, after all, she was a widow and he could hardly have expected her to remain completely celibate.

  It should not be difficult for him to forgive one small indiscretion.

  Lady Esther stopped moving about and sat down on the sofa.

  “What are we to do, Roger?” she asked in a helpless tone.

  “I have not the slightest idea,” he answered. “All I know is that if I cannot get some money by some means or another, I will undoubtedly end up in the debtors’ prison.”

  “You made quite a lot out of Ivan,” Lady Esther observed.

  “Not enough for me!” Lord Bayford replied. “What I was looking forward to was you marrying him.”

  “I cannot believe,” Lady Esther said as if she had not been listening, “that Ivan is just sitting in the country with nothing to do except admire the flowers and no one to talk to. You are quite sure he has not arranged a house party?”

  “As sure as one can be of anything,” Lord Bayford responded. “All his friends are enquiring about him and the Prince Regent keeps asking when he is coming back.”

  “There must be something going on that we don’t know about,” Lady Esther said. “If only we knew someone down there we could ask.”

  “I have not been to Windle Court since I was at Eton and stayed with Ivan in the holidays,” Lord Bayford said. “I was in fact looking forward to going there again now that he was back from France and was ready to organise some very amusing parties for him.”

  “That should be my prerogative,” Lady Esther murmured.

  Suddenly she gave a scream and Lord Bayford started.

  “What is it? What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “I have thought of something,” she replied, “and I cannot imagine why I did not think of it before.”

  “What have you thought of? What are you talking about?” Lord Bayford asked.

  “I have just recalled that Ivan was telling me once how he was brought up. He said that he had an old Nanny who had looked after him and, like all children, he was very fond of her.”

  Lord Bayford was listening, but not with any enthusiasm.

  “I remember telling Ivan that I too had a Nanny who died a few years ago,” Lady Esther went on. “I said to him ‘I suppose yours is dead too? Not at all,’ Ivan replied, ‘she is very much alive and, after looking after the child of a friend of my parents, she is now back at The Court waiting for me to start a family’.”