At the same time Nelda was young too.
He wondered if perhaps such a marriage might be a successful one. It would certainly solve his own personal problem regarding her.
Then realising that Waldo was waiting apprehensively for his answer, he asked,
“Have you spoken to Nelda about this?”
“I tried to last night,” he replied, “but she was very evasive and, I think, shy.”
Lord Harleston thought that he would replace the word ‘shy’ by ‘afraid’.
He had seen the look in Nelda’s eyes when Waldo was talking to her and he was quite sure that, because of the extraordinary way that she had been brought up, she had never had any contact with a man who might be falling in love with her.
With him she was completely unselfconscious, but Lord Harleston was well aware that she thought of him really as her only rock of safety and security in her loneliness and he could understand that Waldo’s impulsive approach would scare her.
Aloud he said,
“Nelda is very young and I have learnt how her father insisted on keeping her away from the people he associated with. As she therefore has had no friends, I think it will be some time before she can adjust herself to the idea of marriage.”
“That’s why I’d like her to stay here and get used to me,” Waldo replied, “but it might be rather difficult.”
The way he spoke made Lord Harleston ask,
“What do you mean by that?”
He thought for a moment that Waldo was not going to answer him until, after a distinct hesitation, he said,
“I don’t think my father and mother would exactly encourage the idea.”
Lord Harleston was surprised.
He thought, because Mrs. Altman seemed so kind and maternal towards Nelda and Mr. Altman was obviously very sorry for the tragedy that she had encountered, that they were genuinely fond of her.
“You have discussed this with them?” he asked.
“Yes, I mentioned it after Nelda had gone to bed last night.”
Lord Harleston remembered that he too had retired early and so Waldo had been able to talk to his family alone.
“I would be interested to hear what your father said.”
Again Waldo seemed to hesitate.
Then after a long moment he replied,
“I think perhaps I’d better be frank with you and say that my father’s not at all keen that I should marry Handsome Harry’s daughter.”
Lord Harleston stiffened.
Although he was aware that this was a reaction that he might have expected from Mr. Altman, he was so proud of his family that it seemed incredible that anybody in this country would not be glad to be connected with the Harles.
“He did say,” Waldo went on, “that Nelda was the prettiest girl he had ever seen and that he liked her, but he didn’t think that socially she would be accepted in Denver.”
Lord Harleston was completely taken by surprise.
He had thought of Denver as basically a mining town although he had read about the Society that had grown up there and had seen the enormous and grand town houses that were being built.
But it had never struck him that, just as in England and in other countries in Europe, in Denver there were already both upper and lower strata of social life and the upper would be very particular as to whom they admitted into their circle.
As if Waldo knew what he was thinking, he said,
“Some of the newcomers, even though they’re as rich as Croesus, are more or less ostracised. They’ve done everything they can to be accepted, but they’re still left on the outside.”
“What you are saying,” Lord Harleston remarked slowly, “is that your father does not think that Nelda Harle is good enough for you.”
He could not help sounding sarcastic, but Waldo did not seem to notice.
He only walked to the window to say,
“Aw, Pa’ll come round eventually. What he’s fussing about at the moment is keeping a low profile for when he runs for Congress.”
“I should have thought, considering how much she seems to know about American Politics, that Nelda would be seen as an asset,” Lord Harleston remarked.
He did not know why he was defending Nelda so aggressively, but it irritated him to learn that Mr. Altman did not think her good enough for his son.
Waldo did not reply and after a moment Lord Harleston asked,
“What did your mother say?”
“I’d rather not tell you that,” Waldo answered after a pause.
“If we are being frank with each other,” Lord Harleston said, “and, as Nelda’s Guardian, I would prefer to know the truth.”
Waldo shuffled his feet and with his hands deep in his pockets he looked uncomfortable.
“You’re not going to like this,” he said at length.
“I am still prepared to listen to it,” Lord Harleston replied.
“Ma’s old fashioned, so you can’t really blame her,” he said even more uncomfortably, “but she thought, as you’d more or less compromised Nelda’s reputation by staying the night alone with her in a farmhouse, that if anybody should marry her it ought to be you!”
If he had fired a pistol at him, Lord Harleston could not have been more astounded.
Because it had been such an obvious solution indeed the only possible one after their terrifying drama of escaping from the Indians, it had never struck him for one moment that anybody could think it wrong that he and Nelda had taken refuge under the same roof for one night.
Of course, if Mrs. Altman had known that they had slept in the same bed, he could have better understood her attitude.
But there had been nothing he could do but stay with Nelda in the farmhouse, although he supposed it was indeed from her point of view a compromising situation.
Because he was startled, he replied angrily,
“I have never heard such utter rubbish in all my life! Nelda and I had just escaped death and there was even an Indian lurking in the house when we reached it. In the circumstances we could think of nothing except to thank God that we were still alive.”
“I understand, of course, I understand,” Waldo said soothingly. “But you know what women are like. Actually I don’t think it was Ma’s idea, but the servants have talked about how pretty Nelda is and you being a Lord and all that sort of thing.”
“Gossip! Gossip!” Lord Harleston asserted contemptuously. “One thing I really dislike is gossiping women who have nothing else to do but defame their own sex.”
Even as he spoke he remembered that the reason why the Prince of Wales had informed him that he should marry Dolly was that he was supposed to have damaged her reputation.
There was some justification for the Prince of Wales believing it, he thought, but where Nelda was concerned it was totally different.
He picked up his coat from the chair and put it on in such a manner that it might have been a coat of mail and he was preparing to go into battle.
“I didn’t want to upset you,” Waldo muttered, “but you did tell me you wanted to hear what Pa and Ma had said.”
“Yes, I did,” Lord Harleston conceded, “and I suppose it is what I might have expected, although it had never struck me that anybody would think such things least of all about Nelda.”
“They’re not thinking of Nelda,” Waldo replied, “but of me!”
This was obvious and Lord Harleston thought that he had been needlessly aggressive.
“What I’m asking you,” Waldo continued, “is how I can see Nelda again. How long do you intend to stay in New York?”
“I have not yet made up my mind,” Lord Harleston replied. “As you are well aware, the first thing we have to do it to buy some clothes for her and I am most grateful to your sister for providing her with something to wear until I am able to do so.”
“That should take some time at any rate,” Waldo calculated, “and, if I do join you, will you allow me to see as much of her as is possible?”
&nb
sp; It was the sort of question that Lord Harleston felt reluctant to answer and, playing for time, he replied,
“I think, before I make any promises or arrangements on Nelda’s behalf, I should first discuss it with her. It must be up to her whether she wishes to see you again and let me make it quite clear that, as her Guardian, I would never press her into marriage with anybody unless she was willing and in love.”
“I’ll make her love me,” Waldo contended. “Of course she is your responsibility now that her father and mother are dead, but she’s always lived in America and I can’t believe that she really wants to go back to England.”
“All the same she is English.”
“Yes, of course, but I bet she feels that she belongs here.”
Waldo spoke optimistically and Lord Harleston then had the idea that he was trying to persuade himself that Nelda would be ready to marry him, even though he suspected that her feelings were very different.
He walked towards the door ready to go downstairs for breakfast, but Waldo was looking out of the window and said,
“I’ve met a lot of girls in one way or another, but I’ve never felt like this about any of them.”
“You are still very young and it is a mistake to get married too quickly.”
“It’s not a mistake when you’re absolutely sure that you’ve met the right person,” Waldo replied, “and what I’m asking, my Lord, is will you help me?”
“As I have already said, it is entirely up to Nelda.”
Waldo made a helpless gesture with his hands.
“I suppose that’s the best you can do and I must just hope when I come to New York that Nelda’ll be more encouraging than she is at the moment.”
Lord Harleston felt that there was nothing more he could do and pulled open the door, saying,
“I understand from your father that he is sending a large escort with us.”
“Twenty men who are known as the best shots on the Prairie,” Waldo confirmed.
Lord Harleston instinctively put his hand to his pocket to see if his pistol was there. That would make twenty-one and in England he was considered an outstanding game shot.
Now that Waldo had told him of his feelings for Nelda and his father’s and mother’s reaction, he thought that there was a slight reserve about Mr. and Mrs. Altman that had not been there before and he sensed that they were relieved that he and Nelda were leaving.
Because she was looking so exquisitely pretty in a travelling gown and cloak owned by Mattie with a very chic little bonnet trimmed with flowers, he could sympathise with Waldo.
There was no doubt that the young man was looking miserable and, although his father said that he had work for him to do on the Ranch, he insisted that he should accompany them to Denver.
“I can’t see any point in your going there just for one night,” Mrs. Altman said sharply.
“Aw, don’t fuss, Ma,” Waldo answered. “ I’ll be all right.”
Mrs. Altman pressed her lips together as if afraid that she might say too much and she would be sorry for it.
Lord Harleston thought it was not only that she was upset at Waldo’s feelings for Nelda but that any mother would worry about her son travelling into possible danger.
Despite the escort there was always the chance that the Indians would attack them again.
*
However the long journey was accomplished much more quickly than the journey out to the Ranch, because they had no wagons with them and the trip was completely uneventful.
There was no sign of any Indians and the Plains looked lovely in the sunshine while the first sight of the Rockies with their snow-capped peaks made Lord Harleston think that it was one of the most beautiful places he had ever seen in all his travels.
They entered Denver and there were the great mansions with their conglomeration of styles and the streets filled with traffic as they drove towards the Railway Station.
It was growing late and the sun was now low on the horizon as they waited at the Station for the long train with its huge engine to come slowly into the platform.
During the ten years since the Denver Pacific had first puffed into Union Station, new railroads had been laid over all Colorado spanning the deep canyons, high passes and precipitous cliffs.
To Lord Harleston’s surprise the Prairie Cattle Company’s private coach compared favourably with the private trains and coaches that he travelled on in England.
There was a large bedroom and two small ones, a drawing room with comfortable chairs and a servant to travel with them to serve their meals.
Also, as Waldo pointed out proudly, there was a private bar, which supplied every drink a traveller could possibly need.
Because it was obvious to Lord Harleston how very much in love Waldo was with Nelda, he thought it was only fair to give him a chance to say ‘goodbye’ to her without being overheard.
He therefore deliberately left them in the drawing room and walked to the door of the coach to stand gazing at the commotion on the platform.
There were passengers struggling to find their seats, frightened dogs muzzled and on leads and a great amount of luggage, mailbags and other packages being bundled into the Guard’s Van.
He had only stood there for a minute when Nelda joined him.
“People always seem to be so – agitated when they are on the Station platforms,” she said in a strange little voice. “Papa used to say he thought it was because they are – afraid of trains.”
Without looking at her Lord Harleston knew that she was frightened and he turned from the door and walked back into the drawing room.
Waldo was there with a scowl on his face and Lord Harleston realised that, whatever he had said to Nelda, she had certainly not responded favourably.
“Goodbye, Waldo,” he said, “and thank you for entertaining me so well. When you see Jennie Rogers, give her my best regards.”
Waldo grinned.
“I will certainly do so and I bet she’s sorry not to have seen you again, my Lord.”
“Tell her I shall be looking forward to renewing my acquaintance with her the next time I come to Denver.”
Lord Harleston was just speaking casually, but he knew by the expression in his eyes that Waldo thought he was implying that Nelda would eventually marry him. In that case, if he came back to Denver, it would be to visit her.
Waldo put out his hand to Nelda.
“Goodbye, Nelda,” he sighed. “Remember what I said to you.”
She did not look at him, but replied in a low voice,
“I will – remember.”
“Well, take care of yourself.”
He looked at her for a long moment and then impulsively he put out his hands, held her by the shoulders and kissed her first on one cheek and then on the other.
“I love you!” he murmured. “Don’t you forget it!”
Then, as the Guard’s whistle shrilled, he swung himself down from the coach onto the platform.
The train began to move and Waldo ran beside the carriage. Lord Harleston was aware that it was with an effort that Nelda went to the window to wave her hand.
He waved too until with much puffing and clouds of smoke they had left Denver Station behind and their last sight of Waldo.
Because the train was swaying uncomfortably, Lord Harleston sat down hurriedly in one of the armchairs.
“I should take off your bonnet and make yourself comfortable,” he said to Nelda, “we have a long journey in front of us.”
“Yes – of course,” she agreed.
She walked towards the other half of the coach and Lord Harleston could hear her speaking to the servant who was carrying into the bedrooms the luggage that they would require on the journey.
It was only later he was to discover that she had taken one of the small bedrooms for herself and leaving him the large one.
But for the moment he was thinking that, as he had watched Waldo kiss Nelda, he had experienced a very strange sensation that was
different from any feeling he had ever known before.
It had been so surprising that for a moment he had felt that it could not be real.
Yet now he knew that his first instinct had been to knock the young man down because he was touching Nelda, but his second was an emotion that he had never experienced before, which he was honest enough to admit was jealousy.
He could hardly believe it and hardly credit that he was not just imagining what he felt or that the long drive from the Ranch had affected him mentally.
Now sitting alone as the train gathered speed, he was forced to admit to himself that what he felt for Nelda was different and yet in some ways very familiar.
It seemed to him incredible, utterly and completely incredible, that, when she had stood at the window watching the Denver platform and Waldo fade out of sight, he had felt his heart pounding in a very odd way and the blood throbbing in his temples.
He wanted at that moment to put his arms round Nelda, hold her close to him and tell her not to be afraid and he would protect her against Waldo and any other men who approached her.
In fact he would prevent them from doing so.
He thought for one second that he was thinking of her and then realised that actually he had been thinking about himself.
‘It cannot be true,’ he muttered beneath his breath.
How could this girl, whom he had bought for hard cash even while he despised and disliked the whole idea of her, have suddenly become a very desirable woman instead of the encumbrance who he had been convinced would be a confounded nuisance.
That was what he had felt until she had cried tempestuously against his shoulder after the Indian war cries had faded into silence.
Then he had wanted to comfort, protect and fight for her.
He remembered the silkiness of her hair and the way that, with a courage he admired more than he could possibly say, she had forced away her tears and set off bravely to walk hand-in-hand with him to find somewhere where they could shelter for the night.
Then, with a bravery that had again astounded him, she had saved his life.
Even then, although it must have been terrifying, she had not cried or been hysterical, and only later, when her fear had been too agonising to suffer alone, she had come to him for help.
Lucky in Love Page 13
