He frequently travelled abroad, but never seemed to form any attachments there.
In many ways he was a benefactor to the part of the world where he lived. He helped to improve the county and was a generous friend to a number of people who were in trouble, or too poor to look after themselves.
He was a member of several London clubs, and was popular with the men who frequented them. It was there he met those who waited on the Queen, including Lord Ringwood.
He was thirty-three, yet gave the impression of being older, because of the legends that had swirled around him for more than a decade.
“I really can’t believe that he is going to help us,” Lavina sighed as they discussed matters during the journey.
“He might, simply because he would disapprove of anyone being forced to marry someone they did not love.”
“But would that overcome his dislike of women?” Lavina asked. “On the contrary, it might give him pleasure to refuse his help to a woman, and send her away to be unhappy.”
The more she thought about it, the gloomier the prospect became.
At last Ringwood Place came into view. The carriage swung through the main gate for the journey through the grounds. There were the familiar trees that Lavina loved, the great pond, with contented ducks paddling on it. Even in her distraught state the sight of these well-loved signs of home had the effect of calming her.
As soon as they reached the house Lavina sent for the housekeeper and ordered a light lunch that could be served quickly. The sooner they were on their way to Elswick Towers the better.
Then she hurried up to her bedroom where her trunks had already been carried. Jill, her maid and Mrs Banty, her dresser, were already at work, unpacking.
Mrs Banty was a middle-aged woman with an air of imperious authority, whose pride was to be able to locate any of Her Ladyship’s garments and suitable accessories at any time, day or night. That ability was to be tested now.
“I’m going to Elswick Towers,” Lavina told her, “and I want to look utterly superb.”
“The pink,” Mrs Banty said without hesitation, pointing to a trunk that, to the casual eye, looked just like the rest. “It is in there.”
In moments they had extracted a ‘visiting’ costume of pink silk, trimmed with four flounces, each surmounted by a band of purple velvet ribbon. The over-skirt was of a heavier, ribbed silk known as faille. This was a lighter shade of pink, trimmed with white lace, with purple velvet ribbon and bows.
Working like the expert she was, Mrs Banty produced the perfect accessories, a tiny parasol of the same pale pink as the overskirt, and a white chip bonnet, trimmed with purple velvet ribbon, and tiny pink rosebuds.
The ensemble was completed by the daintiest pair of black kid walking boots.
As soon as she had finished her lunch Lavina sped upstairs to put on the dress that Mrs Banty and the maid had lightly pressed and brushed out.
Reverently they helped her put it on. When everything was in place Lavina regarded herself in the mirror, wondering if this was all a dream. Surely there was a kind of madness in running away from London at a moment’s notice, to throw herself on the mercy of a man who hated women?
But then she took another look at the magnificent creature looking back at her, and she had to admit that she was proud of what she saw. This was no romping child, but a great lady of the highest rank. She looked glorious enough to enchant any man. But could she move the heart of Lord Elswick? Or was he as heartless as the world said?
There was a knock on her door. It was her father.
“Are you ready my dear?”
“Quite ready, Papa,” she announced in a firm voice, and walked out with her head up.
Down below, an open carriage was waiting for them, drawn by two white horses. The coachman got onto the box and they drove away, Lavina using her little parasol to protect her face against the brilliant sun.
It was twelve miles to Elswick Towers and the route lay across open country. England in summer was at its most beautiful, and as they bowled along the lanes Lavina vowed again that nothing would make her leave this place, no matter what she had to do.
Even if it meant enduring Lord Elswick.
Suddenly she sat up straight, her attention riveted.
“What is it, my dear?” her father asked.
“Over there, Papa,” she said, pointing to a figure on horseback, about a hundred yards away. “Isn’t he magnificent?”
“He?”
“The horse.”
Horses were Lavina’s passion and all her attention was for the animal, which was black and glossy, the most magnificent horse she had ever seen. His skin was like satin, and although he was a huge beast he moved as gracefully as a dancer, soaring easily over hedges and streams, galloping strongly and seemingly without effort.
Only belatedly did she look at the man, whom she realised was riding bareback without saddle, reins or stirrups, holding onto the huge animal’s mane and controlling him without effort. He wore only breeches and a shirt that was unbuttoned, showing a broad, muscular chest.
At first she thought he must be a groom, but then something familiar in the set of his dark head made her heart start to beat more strongly.
“Elswick,” she whispered.
“Eh – what?” her father demanded. “By George yes! It is Elswick.”
The Marquis was in the distance now, getting smaller and smaller, heading in the direction of Elswick Towers which had appeared on the horizon.
As they neared it, Lavina could not help being impressed by the castle which had been restored and added to by the Marquis’s father. It was a building of great splendour and magnificence, which cast Ringwood Place into the shade.
In the centre of the main wall was the huge keep, a tower with battlements, at the top of which was a flagpole, telling the world whether or not the Marquis was at home.
The pole was empty now, but as Lavina watched, the flag was hauled right up to the top. Lord Elswick had returned.
As they drove nearer to the castle, crossing the bridge over the stream which ran in front of it, she could not help but be impressed by the flowers which were a brilliant colour at the base of the walls. Also the huge beautifully carved portico over the front door.
The horses came to a standstill in front of it. The footman beside the driver jumped down and rang the bell.
As he did so the Earl said,
“Now, dearest, you stay here. I will speak to the Marquis, then send for you.”
“No, Papa, I should come with you,” she insisted. “After all, this concerns me.”
“Of course it does, but it will be a difficult request to make, and I feel that modesty demands that you should not be present when I ask him to become engaged to you.”
For once her gentle father was stubborn, and Lavina had no choice but to agree.
On opening the door, the butler seemed somewhat surprised to see the Earl. However he informed him that he would see if His Lordship was at home.
He moved slowly and loftily down the length of a wide corridor. After a few moments he returned to say that Lord Elswick would receive him.
He then led the Earl down a seemingly endless series of passages until he flung open a door and cried in a loud voice,
“The Earl of Ringwood to see you, M’Lord.”
As the Earl entered the room the Marquis, who was sitting down reading a newspaper, put it down.
Rising to his feet he walked towards the Earl.
“This is a surprise!” he exclaimed. “I thought you were in London.”
“I was,” the Earl said, “but I have come to ask for your help in one of the most difficult and unpleasant situations in which I have ever found myself.”
The Marquis had reached home only a few minutes earlier and was still wearing the extremely casual clothes he had worn for his ride. Hearing that he had a visitor, he had attempted some semblance of propriety by throwing on a jacket, but it was an old garment that looked as
though it was normally worn around the stables. Which, in fact, was true.
At first glance it gave the Marquis the air of a groom, yet nobody could have sustained that illusion for more than a moment. His height and lofty manner, the haughtiness in his lean face, marked him as the bearer of one of the highest titles in the land.
His dark eyes were vivid and expressive, his mouth was wide and would have been mobile, save for the tense, stern expression that too often settled over it.
Now he spoke politely to Lavina’s father.
“I am, of course, at your service. Will you have a drink? I suppose you have had luncheon.”
“I had it when I returned home,” the Earl said, “after driving from London at an almost incredible speed.”
The Marquis raised his eyebrows.
“Good heavens, what can have gone wrong?” he asked. “Surely there has not been an accident at your house or anything like that.”
“No, the house is all right and so are the horses, as far as I know,” the Earl replied.
“But I have come to you on a very different matter. In fact, to beg your help, and if you cannot help me I think I shall go distracted.”
He spoke in such a desperate way that the Marquis stared.
“Let me get you a drink,” he repeated. “I’m sure the trouble you’re in cannot be as bad as you think it is.”
“It is worse,” the Earl told him gloomily. “If you can’t help me we’ll have to leave the country as fast as we can.”
“We?”
“My daughter and I. When I think what her fate could be – ” he groaned.
“Good Heavens!” the Marquis exclaimed. “What have you been doing and how have you found yourself in such a mess?”
“I’m desperate,” said the Earl. “So desperate that I’ll do anything you ask, if only you will help me.”
“Very well, sit down and let us talk, man to man.”
*
In the garden Lavina wandered slowly, looking at the flowers. Then, leaning on the bridge, she gazed down at the water bright in the sunshine moving beneath it.
“I wonder how Papa is getting on,” she mused. “He seems to be a terribly long time.”
Suddenly she straightened up.
“I should have gone with him,’ she thought. “How can the Marquis possibly make a decision like this? What am I doing, meekly waiting out here while two men decide my fate, and exclude me?”
It was also exasperating to have taken so much trouble over her appearance, and then not to be seen. How was Lord Elswick to know that she was no longer the child he had scorned, if she let herself be banished like a – like a child?
Lavina was not a conceited young woman, but she knew the truth about herself. She knew that she was beautiful, with a touch of magnificence in her looks. Her figure was tall, slender, and superb.
She knew that her luscious dark hair and blazing blue eyes could reduce men to jelly. She had seen it happen too often to have any doubts about that.
When he had last seen her she had worn her hair down in childlike fashion. Now it was up in a stylish coiffure that revealed her long, elegant neck.
She did not want to marry a foreign Prince, but she knew she was fit to be a Princess and she was not averse to letting the Marquis see her.
It might even make him reconsider his dislike of women, she mused, and at that thought a mischievous smile played about her lips.
Not that she was interested in him. The days when she had swooned over a fictional Byronic hero were far behind her. But it would be pleasant to make him regret his callous behaviour, especially if it made him more willing to help her.
She began to walk decidedly towards the house.
As soon as the butler opened the door she said,
“You admitted my father a few minutes ago. “Where is he, please?”
“In the library, miss – er that is – ”
“Your Ladyship,” Lavina informed him. “I am Lady Lavina Ringwood.”
“Your Ladyship, my orders are that they are not to be disturbed.”
“That doesn’t apply to me,” she said firmly, sailing past him. “Where is the library?”
“Your Ladyship – ” the butler said imploringly.
“The library, if you please.”
Perceiving that he was in the presence of a very determined female, the butler yielded and led her down the labyrinth of passages that led to the great room at the back, where ten thousand books had been collected over generations.
Lavina did not wait for him to announce her, but threw open the door herself. Her father turned to look at her in surprise, and the Marquis rose from the chair in which he was sitting.
The library was very large, and it took her a long time to walk across the floor to stand in front of him. During that time she was able to form a strong impression of him.
This was certainly the man she had seen riding with such skill and confidence. She noted that he dressed more like a stable hand than a Marquis, his jacket shabby, his shirt torn open at the throat.
But it made no difference. This man was an aristocrat to his fingertips. He offered no concessions to convention, fashion, or even manners, because he did not need to.
As Lavina walked towards him he did not hold out his hand. He merely stood regarding her with a look in his eyes which told her he was amazed, and none too pleased, to see her.
In fact, she sensed that only courtesy prevented him from ordering her out.
She went to stand directly before him, watching his face for the moment of astounded recognition.
It did not come.
His expression, as he stared at her, was completely blank, save perhaps for irritation.
“I am Lady Lavina Ringwood,” she said. “Forgive me for coming in without being invited, but I felt that it was only fair, when my father was asking you for such an incredible favour, for you to know all the facts.”
“And you have come here to present me with new facts?” he asked haughtily.
“I am the fact, sir. I am the person you are being asked to save, and who would rather die than marry this stranger.”
The Marquis stared at her. But he did not speak.
For a moment there was silence while their eyes met. Then she said,
“I am not exaggerating. I would rather die than marry a man who I have never seen – and who, reputedly, does not wash.”
The Marquis grimaced.
“I dare say there are worse things in the world than a man who does not wash.”
“Not if you’re married to him,” Lavina said firmly. “Besides, I would have to leave everything I have known and loved since I was born, and be isolated in a country which I have not even visited, with a man who has no use for me except as a weapon against the Russians.”
As she finished speaking Lavina could barely repress a sob.
But for a moment neither the Marquis nor the Earl moved or spoke. Both men seemed stunned by her sudden intervention.
“I know we are asking you for a great deal,” she persisted, “but I see no other way to escape the Royal Command.”
The Marquis regarded her through narrowed eyes.
“Are you sure you’ve considered this proposal carefully?” he asked.
“What is there to consider? I don’t know this man.”
“You know he’s a royal Prince, ruler of a country, albeit a small one. These tiny Balkan states are all very grand, and as the Princess you will have all the jewels any woman could desire, a host of ladies in waiting, all addressing you as Your Royal Highness.”
Lavina’s jaw dropped. She could hardly believe she was hearing such a thing.
“Doesn’t the thought of such luxury appeal to you?”
“It most certainly does not,” she said furiously.
“Then you’re different from most women, who swoon at the sight of jewels,” the Marquis snapped with a touch of savagery in his voice.
“I don’t care for jewels,” she snapped
in return. “When I marry it will be for love, and I won’t allow myself to be sold off to a stranger, no matter how many jewels he has to give.”
“Fine principles for a fine lady,” he sneered, “but how long will they last? Wait until they drape you with diamonds – diamond tiara, diamond aigrette, diamond necklace, bracelets, rings, diamond shoe buckles – ”
Suddenly he stopped. A strange, wild note had entered his voice and he was breathing hard as though tormented by some violent emotion. He seemed to become aware of his guests staring at him, for he swung away and put both his fists on the desk, leaning on them.
After a moment he straightened up and turned back to face them. He had regained his composure but his face was dreadfully pale.
“Forgive me,” he said in a strained voice. “Sometimes I am not quite myself. This is not a good day to come asking me favours – ”
“It is the only day I have,” Lavina cried. “Only help me and I promise, in fact I swear, that I will not bother you in any way. I will not demand anything from you, except to pretend we are engaged until the danger from the Russians is over. Then we can separate, as undoubtedly you will wish to do, and you never need see me again.”
When he did not answer she repeated desperately,
“I swear to you on all I hold sacred I will leave and make no further demands on you, the moment I am safe.”
He was looking at her now with a thin, chilly smile playing about his lips.
“Do you know what you are suggesting? We become engaged, stay that way for a while and then – what – ?”
“Why then, we announce that we have decided that we will not suit,” she said quickly. “It’s easy, engagements get broken all the time and – ”
Then she saw his bitter eyes on her, and knew what she had done.
Of course, this man had been jilted at the altar, to the derision of the world. He was the last person who would help her with a false engagement.
She saw defeat staring her in the face, and she began to feel desperate.
If only he would speak. His silence was becoming unnerving.
At last the Marquis did speak, heavily, as though speech were an effort for him.
An Introduction to the Pink Collection Page 16
