For All Eternity

by Barbara Cartland

  “I see you have thought of everything,” Ajanta said, “except that your family and your friends, if they meet me will not think I am a very – suitable bride for you. In fact, I doubt whether when they – see me they will believe the engagement is a genuine one.”

  For a moment the Marquis looked surprised. Then his eyes twinkled.

  “Like all women,” he said, “you are thinking of clothes. It’s the first time I have known you to be really feminine, Ajanta.”

  “Of course I am thinking about my clothes,” she retorted sharply. “It may be part of your plan that I should look like a beggar maid the noble Marquis has picked up in the gutter, but it is not a role I particularly wish to play.”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “You are not giving me credit for my really rather outstanding gift of organisation,” he said. “Of course you shall have the right gowns. I realise they are essential and some of them will be waiting for you when you reach London. That is another note I have to write now.”

  “I have no wish to expend the money you will give me on such frivolities,” Ajanta said quickly.

  “It will not be your money you spend,” the Marquis replied, “but mine.”

  Ajanta stared at him. Then she said,

  “That is something I cannot allow! Mama would not approve!”

  The Marquis squared his chin and she knew he intended to be obstinate.

  Before he could speak, however, she added,

  “I have my pride, my Lord, and I also know what is right and – conventional.”

  “I also know,” the Marquis retorted, “that it would be extremely stupid and short-sighted, in fact, quite idiotic for you to pay for clothes with money which you know full well is required by your brother and sisters for their education!”

  Ajanta made a little sound of protest, but before she could speak, he went on,

  “Even two thousand pounds will not last for ever and, if you do not need it later for your trousseau, Charis will certainly want to look romantic and glamorous and so in a few years will Darice.”

  He saw by the expression in her face that he had partially convinced her and he went on,

  “You really must allow me to conduct this campaign in my own way. I have appointed myself Commander and I cannot have a constant mutiny on my hands. I expect to be obeyed without question!”

  “That is not being a Commander, but a tyrant!” Ajanta flashed.

  “In an emergency one has to take the law into one’s own hands,” the Marquis said loftily, “and that, Ajanta, is what I am doing.”

  He spoke clearly and rather louder as he added,

  “Regardless of Social conventions and what is done or not done by a lot of old Dowagers, I intend to provide you with the clothes you need, just as if I was producing a play at Drury Lane or a ballet at Covent Garden where I would dress my actors and actresses for their parts. Is that understood?”

  There was a pause before Ajanta said in a low voice, “I-I suppose I – must agree.”

  “It would be very foolish if you did not. Now let me get this down so that there can be no mistakes.”

  He read aloud as he wrote,

  “The engagement of marriage is announced between the Marquis of Stowe and Ajanta, daughter of the Reverend Maurice Tiverton and the late Mrs. Tiverton.”

  He looked across the room at Ajanta as he asked,

  “Is that correct?”

  There was just a slight pause before she answered, “Y-yes.”

  The Marquis folded the piece of paper and took another sheet and put it on the blotter in front of him.

  “Now,” he said, “I suggest you go upstairs and find a dress that fits you exactly. My groom will take it to a dressmaker with whom I have had dealings before and whose taste I can trust, who will provide you with several gowns which you can wear immediately.”

  Ajanta’s eyes seemed very large in her face as she looked at the Marquis.

  He had a feeling that once again she was going to protest, to argue with him.

  Then, as her eyes met his, he said quietly,

  “While you are upstairs, I am going to write a cheque for nine hundred and eighty pounds, because, as I think you have quite a number of expenses before you leave home and perhaps some small purchases to make, I will now give you twenty pounds which I have with me in notes and gold.”

  Ajanta drew in her breath.

  Then, as if she felt the Marquis overpowered her and it was impossible to go on fighting, impossible to do anything but obey him, she walked swiftly across the room and left the study, closing the door behind her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Driving back to Dawlish Castle, the Marquis thought with satisfaction that he had been exceedingly clever.

  Everything had gone according to plan except that he had had a considerable battle with Ajanta to get his own way.

  Even when she had come downstairs with the gown to be used as a pattern tied up in a neat parcel, she was still fighting him.

  He thought that she was very pale, but her skin had the translucence of a pearl as she stood in the doorway of the library.

  While she was upstairs, he had been writing several letters that must go to London and he put down the quill pen and waited for her to speak.

  “You are quite – certain,” she asked in a low voice, “that this is the – right thing for me to – do?”

  “It is what I want you to do,” the Marquis said, “and quite frankly I think you would be very foolish to refuse me.”

  He thought of another argument as he spoke and added,

  “It’s not only the money, which I am well aware that you need, but also most young women would find it a considerable advantage to be engaged even for a short while to the Marquis of Stowe.”

  He was saying what was in his mind and he was not prepared for the flash of fire that came into Ajanta’s blue eyes.

  “What you are really saying, my Lord,” she said, “is that I should be on my knees, thanking you for condescending to anybody so unimportant, who in any other circumstances would certainly be beneath your notice.”

  “I have not said that,” the Marquis retorted.

  “But you are thinking it,” Ajanta said. “So let me make it quite clear that I am not impressed by your Social importance or by your title, my Lord. I am doing this entirely so that I can help Lyle at Oxford and give my sisters a better education than we can afford at present.”

  She paused and the Marquis added with a mocking smile, “And of course you must not forget your father and yourself.”

  “I have certainly not forgotten Papa!” Ajanta replied aggressively. “As you have already pointed out, he will be able to go to Oxford for the research he needs for his new book.”

  “I shall return to London first thing tomorrow morning,” the Marquis said, “and there make arrangements for you all to be brought to Stowe Hall in Buckinghamshire. Your father will accompany you.”

  There was silence. Then Ajanta said in a different tone of voice,

  “I suppose it would not be – possible – although we are – officially engaged, for me to – stay here? It will be – very embarrassing for me to meet your family and friends – if that is what you – intend.”

  “It will not be embarrassing if you play your role properly. My family will be overjoyed that I am to be married and will do everything in their power to welcome you.”

  “And what will they – feel when our – engagement is – terminated?’

  “I will deal with that when the time arrives,” the Marquis said. “All you have to do, Ajanta, is to be charming, look lovely and of course, make them believe that you have some affection for me.”

  There was no doubting the note of sarcasm in his voice, but he did not expect the answer that Ajanta gave him.

  She looked at him for a long moment before she said,

  “I don’t know what sort of trouble you are in or why you really need my help, but I can only hope that the reason is not a di
shonourable one.”

  “Why should you think it might be?” the Marquis asked.

  “Why else, when the most noble Marquis of Stowe has the whole Social world to choose from, should he seek the assistance of an obscure Vicar’s daughter?”

  “The answer is quite simple,” the Marquis retorted. “You are an extremely intelligent and beautiful young woman.”

  Ajanta looked at him in surprise and he saw the colour rise in her cheeks before she turned away, with what was obviously a little flounce, to place the parcel she carried down on a chair near the door.

  The Marquis addressed the letter he had written to his secretary, then another to,

  Lady Burnham,

  Park House, Park Street, London.

  What he had written was, he thought, a very clever letter that even George Burnham might find convincing.

  “My dear Lady Burnham,

  I have taken your advice and I want you to be the first to know that Ajanta Tiverton has accepted my proposal of marriage.

  We are very happy and it is all due to your kind advice for which I am most grateful.

  Ajanta is coming to stay at Stowe House for a few days after which I shall hope to bring her to London to make your acquaintance.

  Again my most grateful thanks.

  I remain,

  Yours sincerely, Stowe.”

  Thinking it over to himself as he rode back through the fields towards Dawlish Castle, the Marquis reflected that George Burnham would have difficulty reading anything into the letter other than what it said.

  ‘Damn it, he must be convinced!’ he thought.

  At the same time he knew that Burnham was like a bulldog and, once he got his teeth into an idea, it would be hard to make him give it up.

  Having sent Jim off to London with the parcel containing Ajanta’s gown, a letter to his secretary with the announcement to The London Gazette and the letter to Lady Burnham, he said goodbye to Ajanta saying,

  “I will send my travelling chariot for you all the day after tomorrow. It will be accompanied by a brake for your luggage, but you will not need very much as the new clothes I have ordered from London will be awaiting you.”

  He spoke in the commanding voice he always used when he was giving orders, and he thought it would prevent her protesting any further and ensure that she carried out his plans exactly according to his wishes.

  She did not speak for a moment. Then she asked,

  “What am I to say to Papa?”

  “Tell him I came here to ask formally for his permission to pay my addresses to you, but, as he was away from home and I had a pressing engagement I, unfortunately, could not wait to see him. But I will of course discuss everything with him when he arrives at Stowe Hall.”

  He was aware that Ajanta was going to say that her father would think this very odd and he added,

  “I should not tell him when the engagement is to be announced. I cannot believe that you take The London Gazette and it will not appear in The Times until Friday or Saturday.”

  Ajanta did not reply and the Marquis said quickly,

  “Goodbye, Ajanta. Try to think of this as an adventure – something that your family will enjoy, even if you are determined not to do so.”

  His words, because they were provocative, made her eyes flash at him again and he swung himself onto his horse and rode off.

  He did not look back, being sure if he did so that Ajanta would not be waiting to see him out of sight.

  At least, he thought, as he neared Dawlish Castle, skirmishing with Ajanta would be considerably more interesting than trying to talk as if through a thick fog to Lady Sarah.

  When the Marquis reached The Castle, he found he had taken longer than he had expected at the Vicarage and, when he entered the breakfast room, there was only Harry there.

  He looked up as the Marquis entered.

  “It’s unlike you to be so late, Quintus,” he said. “I thought you never overslept.”

  “I have been riding,” the Marquis replied.

  He went to the sideboard to help himself to a rather unappetising dish of eggs and bacon, but there was nothing else he fancied.

  “If you had told me that you were going, I would have come with you,” Harry said. “There is something I wish to tell you when we have the chance to be alone.”

  The Marquis looked at him sharply.

  The way Harry spoke made him guess what the information would be and he was aware that his friend was choosing his words with care.

  Because he thought it would be embarrassing if Harry warned him that Burnham was on the warpath he said,

  “Actually, I have news for you that I think will surprise you.”

  “What is it?” Harry asked.

  “I am engaged to be married!”

  Harry stared across the table as if he could not believe his ears.

  “You are what?” he finally asked.

  “It will be in The London Gazette tomorrow morning,” the Marquis said, “and I hope, as one of my oldest friends, you will give me your good wishes.”

  “Good God!” Harry exclaimed. “There is one thing about you, Quintus, you always spring a surprise when one least expects it! I had no idea that you were contemplating matrimony after what you have said so often about that particular state.”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “That was before I met Ajanta.”

  “Ajanta?” Harry questioned. “Have I met her?”

  “No, you have not. Her name is Ajanta Tiverton and need I say, she is very beautiful.”

  “I wonder why you have never introduced me to her?”

  “I am too wise for that,” the Marquis replied. “You might have attempted to steal a march on me as you were doing over the sale today.”

  “Good Heavens! I would never try to rival you in the field of love!” Harry said. “You know as well as I do that, where women are concerned, you pass the winning post before the rest of us have even left the start!”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “You are very humble all of a sudden.”

  “Tell me about this beauty who has captured you when so many others have failed,” Harry asked.

  “I am not going to say anything until you have seen her for yourself,” the Marquis replied. “And, Harry, I would rather you did not tell the others until after I have left. Their curiosity and their congratulations would be equally embarrassing.”

  “Of course they will be curious and so am I,” Harry said. “You are the most avowed bachelor in the whole of St. James’s and I had thought your interest recently lay in a very different direction.”

  “When one wants to keep something secret,” the Marquis said lightly, “it’s always wise to make people look in the wrong direction.”

  “So that is what you have been doing! Well, all I can say, Quintus, is that you have deceived both me and a large number of other people, including one who is in a dangerous mood.”

  The Marquis knew that he was referring to George Burnham and he managed to reply again as if it was a matter of no great significance,

  “If ever a man was a fool who cannot see directly what lay under his nose and is always ready to fly off at a tangent, it is Burnham!”

  Harry looked at him quizzically, but he said no more and the Marquis, deciding that he had had enough breakfast, rose to his feet.

  “Come and have a look at the Duke’s stable before we leave,” he suggested. “I have just decided that I cannot face the food in this place any longer and will start back to London the moment the sale is over or I have bought everything that takes my fancy.”

  “That means we may get some of the animals you reject at a reasonable price,” Harry said.

  “Tell me what you want particularly,” the Marquis replied, “and you know I will not bid against you.”

  “That is very decent of you, Quintus,” Harry smiled. “There are in fact two horses I particularly want as long as they have not deteriorated since I last saw them.”


  *

  When the Marquis had left, Ajanta sat down on a chair in the hall as if her legs would no longer support her.

  She found it impossible to believe that what had happened was true, rather than part of some mad dream from which she would wake at any moment to find herself upstairs in her small bed.

  Then she walked back into the library to find lying on the desk where he had left it, a cheque made out in her name for nine hundred and eighty pounds, besides two notes of five pounds each and ten golden sovereigns.

  Ajanta had never seen so much money in the whole of her life and it struck her that perhaps it was fairy gold and when she touched it with her fingers it would vanish.

  She picked it up and it was still there, then she put it down again so that she could fold the cheque carefully.

  She then decided that she would not tell her father of the transaction she and the Marquis had made together. In fact, nobody must know.

  She was ashamed of it – she thought it degrading.

  At the same time some part of her brain was already busy deciding what she would buy and knowing what an enormous difference the money was going to make to their lives.

  Lyle could have the riding boots he wanted and some really smart clothes such as he had never had, and he could have a horse of his own in the vacations.

  He would also be able to afford to hunt as he had always wanted, not with the ‘hobbledehoy’ farmers’ pack, but the one in which the members’ fees had until now, been too high.

  Then she thought of Charis and decided that the best thing for her would be to go to a Young Ladies’ Seminary for a year.

  Her mother had attended one and she had often spoken of how different her lessons had been there from jogging along with one Governess at home.

  “When I married your father,” she had said, “if I had not been better educated than most young women of my generation, I should never have been able to share his interests or help him with his work as I have done.”

  She sighed before she said,

  “Oh, dearest, I do wish we could afford to send you to a good school, even for a few months.”