103. She Wanted Love

by Barbara Cartland

  There was silence for a moment, then Eleta said,

  “And the Duke can do this without involving me.”

  “Sadly the truth is that His Grace is exceedingly hard-up. I have not yet visited his ancestral home, which is in Nottinghamshire, but I am told it is in urgent need of repair which he cannot afford.”

  He seemed to Eleta to glare at her as he went on,

  “The cost of restoring it to what it was a hundred years ago will mean little to you, but it should be a great satisfaction when you become the reigning Duchess with an estate which is as perfect as your father made his estate in Northamptonshire.”

  “Which is mine,” Eleta asserted. “What will happen to it if I am busy, as you suggest, in Nottinghamshire?”

  “I am sure with all the education you have had,” her Stepfather replied sarcastically, “two estates will not be too much for you and you should be able to manage them as competently as your mother managed this house.”

  “I think perhaps, Step-papa, that you are being very optimistic, but naturally I would like to see His Grace’s house before I commit myself one way or another.”

  “You would be wasting your time – ”

  He was almost shouting the words at her and he continued,

  “You will marry the Duke as soon as it is possible to arrange the marriage. Because we will need to make everyone aware of such a splendid occasion, it must take place immediately. At the beginning of next month would be best, just before the Royal Ascot races.”

  “I see you have arranged everything,” Eleta said. “But you must understand my feelings.”

  She was about to say much more, but her stepfather broke in, almost snarling the words,

  “You have to marry the Duke and I cannot wait for you to have airs and graces about it. You will marry him when I can arrange a date with him as soon as he arrives here. All you have to do is to spend a considerable amount of money on a wedding gown, which must be outstanding, and of course we can invite at least five hundred people if we use the garden in the centre of the Square.”

  From the way he spoke, Eleta was aware that he had planned every move and there would be little point in her arguing.

  She therefore rose from the tea table and stipulated,

  “As I have been travelling since early this morning, you will understand that I must now go upstairs and rest.”

  “I have a great many more things to say to you,” he replied. “You must therefore make an effort to come down to dinner. I have your mother’s list of friends who must all be invited and you must have made many friends at your school and they too should receive an invitation.”

  “Yes, Step-papa, I understand, but I really am very tired and you must forgive me if I go now and lie down.”

  She walked across the room as she was speaking, but he made no effort to rise or to open the door for her.

  He merely watched her with what she thought were suspicious eyes as she walked out of the room.

  She deliberately closed the door quite quietly and then she forced herself to walk to the hall and up the stairs.

  There were two footmen on duty there and, as she had not seen them before, she greeted them and they said that they were glad to see her back.

  As she reached her room, she found the old lady’s maid, who had looked after her mother, waiting for her.

  Because it was a familiar voice and brought back memories of her childhood, Eleta kissed her warmly.

  “If there is anyone I was hoping to see here when I returned home, it is you, Betty.”

  “I was hopin’ you’d not forget me, my Lady.”

  Betty was now in late middle-age and her hair was going grey, but, when she smiled, Eleta thought it was the same smile she remembered Betty giving her in the cradle.

  “Oh, Betty, I am thankful you are here,” Eleta said. “I suppose you have some idea of what my stepfather has been saying to me.”

  “We all knows he’s determined that you’ll marry the Duke,” Betty replied.

  “How could he think I would do such a thing?”

  “I was wonderin’ that meself, my Lady, but you knows what the Master be like. He never ever listens to anythin’ he don’t want to hear.”

  “I know that,” Eleta said, “which is why I stopped arguing with him, but you can be sure that I will not marry the Duke and no law will force me.”

  She spoke with a violence that had not been in her voice when she was downstairs.

  Betty looked at her, then hurried across the room to make quite certain that the door was shut before saying,

  “I knew you’d feel like this, my Lady, but what can you do?”

  “What I have every intention of doing,” Eleta said slowly, “is to run away!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Betty stared at her.

  “Run away?” she repeated.

  “Yes. How can I do – anything else? You know as well as I do, I cannot marry a man I have never seen – who is old and is marrying me – only because I am rich.”

  The words seemed to tumble from her lips.

  “Now don’t you upset yourself, my Lady. I know it’s terrible, but you’ve got to think it out.”

  “I’ve thought it out already. I intend to run away as quickly as I can and will never, never come back here until Step-papa is thinking very differently.”

  Betty put her hand up to her face.

  “You can’t do it, my Lady, you’re too pretty and far too young to be alone anywhere.”

  Eleta was still for a moment. She knew that Betty was right and it would be very difficult for her to go to any of her friends. If she did so, she was certain her stepfather would find her and drag her away.

  There was silence as both of them were thinking and then finally Eleta exclaimed,

  “There must be something I can do, somewhere I can go.”

  “If I’d a home,” Betty said, “it’d be there for you as long as you’d want it.”

  Eleta smiled at her.

  “I know that, dearest Betty, and I would trust you, while I wouldn’t trust anyone else not to tell Step-papa where I was, however much he offered you.”

  She spoke bitterly, thinking that money was all that mattered and so the Duke would marry her without even seeing her, simply because she was rich.

  Because she felt she could not sit still, she stood up and walked to the window.

  “What can I do? What on earth can I do?” she asked desperately.

  There was only silence from Betty and then after a moment Eleta suggested,

  “I wonder, I just wonder, if I found a job as a Governess, whether that would prove a hiding-place? I am sure it is something Step-papa would not expect me to do.”

  “I’m afraid, my Lady, that no one’d take such a young Governess or such a pretty one. You’ll remember what your Governesses looked like when they was here.”

  Eleta recalled that they had been middle-aged and dull. They had taught her very little, which was why her mother had insisted she went to the Convent School.

  “You are quite right, Betty, I don’t look like them and I don’t want to!”

  “Of course not, but then you might find somethin’ if you went to the Agency.”

  Eleta started.

  “I did not think of that. They might have all sorts of unusual jobs. After all I speak a good few languages.”

  “It’s just an idea, because you’re too young and too pretty and too much a Lady to find work easily.”

  “It seems unfair, but, if I had a face like the back of a cab, there would doubtless be a dozen jobs for me to do!”

  “But the Almighty’s made you as pretty as your mother and you should thank Him on your knees for that.”

  “I am more than prepared to thank Him, but it’s obviously a handicap where a job is concerned.”

  “I’m sure we can think of somethin’,” Betty went on. “I’d be so much happier if you was in a decent house and sleepin’ in a comfortable bed than if you was h
idin’ yourself in lodgings or somewhere like that.”

  Eleta knew what she meant and she was intelligent enough to realise that she could easily be the prey of any man who fancied her.

  She recognised that if she was alone she would be frightened and, if she did find a job working in a school or even a shop, she would still have to accommodate herself at night and that was where the danger would be.

  “Should we go to the Agency, Betty, and find out what is available? I suppose there is one round here.”

  “Of course there’s one, my Lady. It’s where your Mama always went if she wanted a housemaid or someone extra to work in the kitchen.”

  “Then come with me, Betty, and we’ll go there and see what happens.”

  “We’ll have to walk,” Betty replied.

  “Of course!” Eleta agreed, not having thought of it herself. “I think too we had better wait until Step-papa has gone out. He is certain to go back to his office and then I will not have him pouncing on me again.”

  She spoke bitterly and Betty put out her hand and laid it on Eleta’s shoulder.

  “Now don’t you go talkin’ like that. We’ll find a way out of this mess, but I can’t have you speakin’ as your mother never did and I know it’d hurt her.”

  Eleta smiled.

  “You are quite right, Betty. This is a very difficult situation, but somehow I will find a way out of it. I will try not to be bitter, which would have upset Mama.”

  “That’s right. Now wait here while I pop out to see what’s happenin’. And you’d best change into somethin’ plain and serviceable if you’re really goin’ to the Agency.”

  “You are quite right. I had not thought of that.”

  Betty left and Eleta went to her wardrobe.

  She took out a plain coat and skirt she had worn at school and put it on, together with a pair of flat shoes.

  Then she hesitated.

  Most of her hats were elaborately ornate with many flowers and ribbons and they would look very out of place.

  Then she remembered that when she was riding she often wore a plain felt hat with a brim. It was especially useful when the sun was hot and it shaded her eyes.

  It took her some moments to find it.

  Her clothes from Paris had not all been unpacked and finally she discovered it folded flat at the bottom of one of her hat-boxes.

  She put it on her head after pulling back her curly fair hair and pinning it tidily in place and, when she looked in the mirror, she laughed.

  She certainly did not look like herself, but at the same time it was no use pretending that she did not still look very attractive and very young.

  Betty came back after quite a time.

  “The Master’s just left,” she said, “and I heard him givin’ a message to Mr. Buxton that he wanted to see you when he returns.”

  “At any rate he has gone for the moment,” Eleta said, “so we can leave as soon as you are ready.”

  Betty looked at her quizzically

  “If you asks me, they’ll think it strange downstairs if you appear in that get-up.”

  “But what can I do, Betty, unless I jump out of the window?”

  “Then we’ll go out the back way, my Lady. When they’ve finished in the kitchen, Mrs. Buxton lies down and those who help her goes shoppin’.”

  Eleta spread out her hands.

  “I will leave it to you, Betty, to get me out of this house without anyone being suspicious of my appearance. The last thing I want when I do disappear is for them to tell Step-papa that I did not look like myself.”

  “I’ll get my bonnet,” Betty said. “I won’t be long.”

  She hurried away and Eleta went along the corridor to her mother’s bedroom.

  It was just as she had left it. Only the flowers were missing, which had always scented the room and made it look even lovelier than it already was.

  As soon as Eleta walked through the door, she was aware of the fragrant smell of violets. It was the scent her mother always used and had been her father’s favourite.

  When Eleta shut her eyes, she could almost believe that her Mama was either lying in the bed or sitting on the sofa by the windows.

  ‘Help me, Mama, do help me,’ she begged silently. ‘You know I cannot marry this horrible man whom Step-papa has found for me. So help me! Help me disappear until he gives up this awful idea.’

  She felt her whole being reach out to her Mama.

  Then somehow she felt her mother answering her and telling her not to worry. And she could almost see her smiling at her as she had always done and Eleta knew that whatever else might happen to her, her mother was there thinking of her and loving her.

  Almost as if she was being directed by her Mama, Eleta was suddenly aware that if she went to an Agency she would need references.

  She sat down at the beautiful French secretaire in the corner of the room and opened the drawers.

  There was the writing paper her mother had always used with the Family Crest die-stamped on it.

  Eleta thought for a moment that she could not use it and then she asked herself why not?

  She would have to apply under an assumed name and there was no reason why her mother could not have employed her in the past.

  She therefore wrote quickly,

  “The Countess of Stanrenton is very pleased to recommend as a Governess – ”

  Eleta hesitated and then continued,

  “Miss Ellen Lawson, who I have employed for the past three years and has proved most satisfactory.

  She is very intelligent, speaks several languages and has carried out her work in a conscientious manner.

  In fact the Countess cannot speak too highly of Miss Lawson and is prepared to give her a reference at any time she needs one.”

  Eleta read what she had written and she thought it was just the sort of thing her mother would have said in giving a reference to anyone she was fond of.

  That, she thought, was one reference at any rate.

  She looked in the drawer, as she wanted to see if there was by chance a piece of writing paper with another address on it.

  Then she noticed stacked tidily in a corner some writing paper from a hotel, one her parents had stayed in when they thought the sea air would do them good.

  She tried to make her handwriting look different and wrote a glowing reference from a lady she invented who was currently staying in the hotel.

  She said that she had employed Miss Lawson only temporarily while she was in England and had found her excellent. Her French was Parisian and as good as she would expect to find in any French girl of the same age.

  She signed the letter with a French name and on the top of it she made the writer a Comtesse.

  As Eleta folded up the two letters, she thanked her Mama silently for helping her. She was almost sure that she was smiling and telling her not to be worried.

  She went back to her bedroom expecting to find Betty there, but she did not arrive for another ten minutes.

  Then she came bursting into the room dressed in the black bonnet and black cape she always went out in.

  “Come along then, my Lady,” she said, “the coast’s clear, Mrs. Buxton’s gone to rest and the kitchen’s empty.”

  “I was afraid you had forgotten about me,” Eleta said jokingly.

  “You know I’d never forget you,” Betty answered. “You mean more to me than if you were my own child and I’d help you if I could even with my dying breath.”

  “I know you would, Betty,” Eleta said and, bending forward, kissed her cheek. “Now come along, we have to think of this as a new adventure and I must not make any mistakes or I will find myself back here and married before I can say ‘Jack Robinson’.”

  “God forbid that should happen!” Betty exclaimed.

  They went down by the staircase which led to the back of the premises and out through the basement door from which there were steps into Berkeley Square.

  Then they hurried out and into Davis
Street, just in case a footman was looking out from the front door.

  They did not speak until they were out of sight of the house and then Betty drew a deep breath.

  “I don’t think anyone noticed us,” she sighed.

  “I am sure that they didn’t and thank you, Betty, for being clever enough to remember that is the best way to leave the house when one does not wish to be seen.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it before and that’s the truth!”

  “Now where is this Agency you have been talking about?” Eleta asked.

  “It’s not far, my Lady, it’s just at the back of these shops and convenient for them as wants staff locally.”

  They walked on in silence until they came to what looked like an ordinary house, but the front door was open revealing a narrow staircase.

  “It’s on the first floor,” Betty said unnecessarily, “and I’ll be waiting for you here.”

  “You are not coming with me?” Eleta asked.

  Betty shook her head.

  “They knows me because I’ve been here once or twice for your mother when she wanted a kitchenmaid. Mrs. Hill, that be her name, might recognise me and that’d be unhelpful.”

  Eleta knew this was common sense, so she said,

  “Don’t go far away, Betty.”

  “I’ll wait at the end of the street. There’s no hurry and be careful where you promises to go.”

  Eleta smiled at her.

  “I’ll be careful, I promise, Betty. Now pray hard that I will find a place I can hide from Step-papa.”

  “I’ll be prayin’,” Betty assured her.

  Then, as if worried she might be seen, she walked off leaving Eleta alone outside the open door,

  She walked up the narrow stairs.

  At the top the door was open and she saw inside what looked like servants sitting on chairs against the wall.

  There were three young girls she thought must be housemaids or perhaps kitchenmaids. And several young men she was certain were looking for jobs with horses.

  As they stared at her, she saw at the far end of the room that there was a high desk and seated at it was an elderly woman with grey hair and wearing glasses.