Royalty Defeated by Love

by Barbara Cartland

  He hoped she would not be too long. Pacing up and down, he found that his worries began to crowd in on him again.

  Then he heard the door open behind him and he turned swiftly. What he saw made him grow very still.

  Bettina was dressed with an elegance he had seen in her only once before – on the night of the dinner party. Then she had been in evening dress. Now she was dressed for the day and she was smart and exquisite.

  She might have been going to a big luncheon party in Mayfair. Her gown was pink, matching the roses on her hat.

  For a moment Michael just stared at her before asking her,

  “How can you look so magnificent and so lovely?

  Bettina laughed.

  “It is most impolite of you to be so surprised.”

  “No, I didn’t mean – ” he stopped, aware that he was stammering like a schoolboy. He had a horrible feeling that he was also going red.

  Bettina did not feel it necessary to tell him that she had obtained this dress by exchanging it with the black and gold one she had worn for the dinner. Mrs. Tandy had discovered another customer for the evening gown and had been willing to take it back.

  Bettina had been sad to part with the gown which had first made Michael look at her with astonishment and admiration, but she knew she would never wear it again. In the end, the lure of some beautiful day dresses had proved too much.

  Now, when she saw the same astonishment and admiration in his eyes again, she was glad she had made the exchange.

  “I thought I should look as smart as possible,” she explained. “Then, if the Queen’s Messenger arrives before luncheon, we can say that we are just going out to a party being given in our honour.”

  “That’s excellent. Go on.”

  “We must apologise but say we are unable to ask him in for a meal. In fact we can only invite him in for a glass of champagne to drink our good health.”

  She smiled as she added,

  “Next we suggest he returns to London, because we are going to be the guests of the Lord Lieutenant. If, later on, he enquires whether the Lord Lieutenant actually gave a party on this day, he will learn that he did.”

  The way she spoke made Michael laugh.

  “What a wonderful little strategist you are. I can tell you are a daughter of a soldier.”

  “Thank you, kind sir, but I think you really mean a tactician.”

  “Do I?”

  “I am not a soldier’s daughter for nothing. You employ strategy while the enemy is out of sight and tactics when he appears. This enemy is almost upon us!”

  “But the wretched messenger isn’t the real enemy. There are several of them and they are all in London.”

  “True,” she conceded. “You are quite right.”

  “But you are right too,” he hurried to say. “You seem very much in command of what you are doing, which relieves my mind, because I am so much in your hands.”

  “Do not worry about it. We will defeat them.”

  Suddenly he cried out,

  “You are magnificent. You look exactly as I should ask my wife to look if we were going to a Society occasion.”

  She laughed.

  “You are very kind, but I am sure I could never pass muster in fashionable salons.”

  ‘I would like to take her into Society,’ he thought. ‘She is beautiful enough to grace any drawing room, while her freshness and natural manners make her a delight after the artificial world I am accustomed to.’

  But he did not feel he could say this to her while he had placed her in such a delicate position, so he merely said,

  “Let us go quickly now.”

  She took the arm he offered and they walked out together to the waiting gig.

  Bettina felt as though she was travelling in a dream. Everything that was happening to her was impossible and yet it was really happening.

  So many impossibilities had occurred since Michael had arrived. Suddenly the world had become so beautiful, full of hope and promise.

  It was hard to remember that basically it was all an illusion. One day he would leave, if not for good then for a few months to resume his life in London.

  When he had told her his problem, her first horrified thought was that he must not go. She had covered her dismay by talking about the locality and how much it needed him.

  But the truth, which had shocked her almost to dumbness, was that she could not bear the thought of life without him nearby. How empty everything would be. How wretched and lonely!

  How could she ever be happy again?

  One day it would happen and she would be condemned to eternal loneliness. He would find a bride from Society, somebody very different from Alice and he would bring her to the castle. And she, Bettina, would have to endure seeing them together.

  She gave herself a little shake. She had promised to help him and if she was to keep her word she must think only of his needs, not of herself.

  So she pushed gloomy thoughts aside to concentrate on the matter in hand.

  There would be time enough to be unhappy later.

  “Oh, Heavens!”

  The softly vehement exclamation from beside her made her turn to see Michael clutching his head, an expression of horror on his face.

  “What is it?” she asked anxiously. “Are you ill?”

  “No, but I have just thought of something that I should have remembered sooner.”

  “What? For goodness sake, tell me!”

  “Alice was here yesterday. She met you. If they question her, she will say that nobody mentioned anything about our being married.”

  At the thought Michael felt his whole body tighten.

  For a moment he was almost panic-stricken.

  It was all hopeless. The messenger would not believe he had married Bettina.

  “It’s no use,” he groaned. “I am trapped.”

  “Oh, no, you are not!” Bettina retorted in a firm voice. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

  Michael gazed at her.

  “Alice returned to London late last night, didn’t she?” Bettina asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That letter you received this morning, when was it sent?”

  “It must have been posted yesterday.”

  “While she was still here?”

  “Yes,” he said, beginning to catch her drift.

  “Is it likely that the messenger would visit her this morning before leaving?”

  “I suppose he might – but probably not.”

  “Even if he did, would he have asked Alice how she felt about you being commanded to marry her?”

  “It would indeed be rather indelicate,” Michael agreed.

  “Then we still have every hope, do we not?”

  “We do, indeed,” he said, feeling more cheerful.

  “And we are not downhearted?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “Let them throw their regiments at us!” Bettina cried defiantly. “We will repel them!”

  Michael laughed.

  “What a genius you are at putting new heart into a man! You have missed your vocation. Clearly nature intended you to be a Sergeant Major.”

  To his surprise some of the pleasure faded from her face. He had meant to compliment her without being heavy-handed, but he recognised that he had said something wrong.

  Bettina tried to tell herself not to be foolish. Michael had meant it kindly. It was just that when she knew that she was looking her prettiest for the man she loved, she wanted him to praise her looks, or at least her charm.

  What she did not need was to be compared, however flatteringly, to a Sergeant Major.

  “We are nearly there,” she said brightly. “We should be making further plans.”

  “What further plans can we make?”

  “Well, if we are supposed to be attending a formal function, I think you should change your clothes.”

  “You are right. I need to look as fine as you do. don’t want to be cast into the shade.�
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  “Now you are making fun of me.”

  “No, I am just saying how delightful you look.”

  “That is important too,” Bettina answered. “After all with a castle like yours, you will not want an ugly wife.”

  Michael did not answer as she continued quickly,

  “Of course you don’t want a wife at all, you only want to stay in your castle and be left in peace.”

  “Left in peace,” he echoed. “How well you understand me! Nobody in London would understand for a moment. That is one reason I was so glad to leave them behind.”

  “But have you managed to leave them behind?” she asked.

  “Not yet, but after today I will have done. They will all be defeated.”

  “I do hope so. But, as my Papa always said, ‘never underestimate your enemy. He can often be far stronger than you expect him to be’.”

  “Now you are depressing me,” Michael protested. “At the same time, I cannot find the words to express how grateful I am to you.”

  “You must keep all your gratitude until we are successful,” Bettina advised him. “And think only of the castle. When it is finished, it is going to be so marvellous that people will come in crowds to admire it.”

  It passed through Michael’s mind he would find that extremely annoying.

  But he did not say so.

  He wanted peace and quiet, not only to enjoy the castle, but to concentrate on all the other challenges on the estate. They would also keep him busy and interested for a long time.

  ‘How could I possibly,’ he asked himself, ‘share all this with Alice? She would have no sympathy with it, unlike Bettina who seems to be instinctively in sympathy with me and the castle.’

  As if to prove him right, Bettina said,

  “Now you must not worry! I am praying that everything will go exactly as you want it to do. But if we let ourselves become nervous, we might make mistakes.”

  Michael nodded as she carried on,

  “We must believe in what we are doing and try to convince ourselves that what we are saying is the real truth.”

  He grinned.

  “You mean that the best way to tell a good lie is to believe it. Is that an Army saying, too?”

  Bettina gave a chuckle, but did not reply in words.

  “You should write a book,” he said. “Your imagination is fertile enough for anything.”

  “If I ever did write a book, it would end happily,”

  Bettina mused, “and that is what this present drama must do.”

  As she was speaking they drove in at the front of the castle. To their relief there was no carriage at the door.

  “Nobody has arrived yet,” Bettina pointed out. “Thank goodness. If the messenger had arrived first, and we had walked in looking like this, he might think it strange that I am dressed in my best, while you are somewhat dilapidated, to put it bluntly.”

  Michael laughed.

  “I was in such a hurry to come to you,” he explained, “that I put on the first clothes my valet gave me. He thought I was going to join the workmen as I often do.”

  Bettina was considering something.

  “Do you think I should be stupid?”

  Michael stared.

  “I don’t think you would know how to be stupid,” he said.

  “Oh, yes, it’s easy if you are a woman. People expect women to be stupid, you see. So if you want to – shall we say – muddle their thoughts a little – you just act vague and everyone assumes it’s for real.”

  Seeing Michael looking at her uncertainly, she gave an inane giggle, gazing at him with wide open eyes.

  “That was very effective,” he admitted, entranced by the deep blue of her eyes.

  “Oh, I can do better than that,” she assured him. “If you want, I could sound really half-witted.”

  She proved her point with another giggle, even vaguer than the first.

  “Oh, how clever you are,” she sighed. “I really don’t know how you intelligent men put up with us ridiculous females. It is so kind of you to condescend to us.”

  “For pity’s sake!” Michael said, trying to speak through his laughter. “You are actually a very dangerous woman. I do not think you should be allowed out in public.”

  Her eyes teased him.

  “Has no beautiful lady ever spoken to you like that?”

  “Yes, you wretched girl. And now I will never be able to listen to a woman again. I shall always be wondering what she is thinking behind the words.”

  “I should think you can probably guess what she’s thinking,” Bettina said outrageously.

  “You mean she will be wondering what sort of dunderhead I must be to fall for it. Thank you!”

  “Ah, but I feel sure that you do not fall for it, being a man of superior intellect.”

  “You go too far, my girl.”

  The laughed out loud together.

  “Anyway, just how brainless should I be?” Bettina asked. “Now you have heard my repertoire, should it be Brainless One, or Brainless Two?”

  “Brainless One, I think. We don’t want to overdo it. Besides, I feel fairly sure that you could not keep Brainless Two going for any length of time. The strain on those sharp wits of yours could be too much even for you.”

  “Oh, you would be amazed at how stupid I can be when I set my mind to it,” she assured him.

  “Not really. I think that you are probably an excellent actress and the stage is poorer without you.”

  They were both laughing as the carriage came to a standstill. One of Michael’s grooms came hurrying forward, suppressing his astonishment at the sight of his Lordship driving the shabby gig.

  Michael helped Bettina out.

  “Here we are,” he said. “Into the lion’s den. Hold my hand and we will face anything together.”

  She slipped her hand into his as they ran up the steps.

  The first thing they saw was Brooks crossing the hall. Michael hailed him.

  “Show Miss Newton into the library and bring her some lemonade while I go upstairs,” he ordered.

  Brooks did so, leaving Bettina alone for a moment while he fetched the refreshment.

  There was a small mirror in a gilt frame on the desk. Bettina glanced into it to check her appearance and felt moderately satisfied.

  Suddenly Brooks returned, to announce,

  “A gentleman from London to see his Lordship.”

  Bettina turned round sharply, thankful that Brooks had not addressed her as Miss Newton, which would have been disastrous.

  The man who entered was middle aged and good-looking, but exuded a self-important air.

  Bettina drew a deep breath, wondering if she could deal with him alone.

  But luckily Michael came rushing into the room.

  “I heard someone had arrived,” he said, “but I did not expect to see you, Lord Stacey.”

  He held out his hand and the stranger shook it and replied gravely,

  “I have come to see you on an important matter. I am here on Her Majesty’s orders and I think it would be best if I could please see you alone.”

  There was a short pause before Michael responded,

  “I am delighted to hear from Her Majesty. But first I think you should be introduced to my wife.”

  As he spoke he turned towards Bettina and held out his hand. She smiled at him and came forward saying as she did so,

  “I am longing to know why the Queen sent you here to see my husband.”

  For a moment Lord Stacey was unable to speak.

  Then he said, looking at Michael,

  “Did you say that this lady is your wife?”

  “We were married very quietly,” Michael told him. “We are both engaged on restoring this castle, so we decided against a big wedding. It would have been too time consuming.”

  There was silence.

  Both Michael and Bettina became aware that the newcomer was finding it hard to know how to deal with this news.

  Final
ly, with an obvious effort, he said,

  “I had no idea that you were married, Danesbury.”

  “We have kept very quiet about our marriage owing to mourning in my wife’s family,” Michael told him.

  “The Queen will be most surprised to hear this information,” Lord Stacey said after a moment. “She will expect me to tell her all the details about when and where the ceremony took place, who were your witnesses, and so on.”

  Silence.

  “Witnesses?” the Michael asked.

  “Of course. Even a small private ceremony needs witnesses, otherwise there is no proof that the wedding ever took place. I am sure you understand me.”

  ‘He does not believe us,’ Bettina thought in horror.

  The same thought had evidently occurred to Michael, for he paled visibly. But he was not ready to give up.

  “We were married in the North of England, where I have relatives,” he said.

  “So your relatives were your witnesses?”

  “No,” he said quickly, knowing that he could not embroil them in this matter.

  “Then who witnessed your wedding?” Lord Stacey asked, his eyes becoming hard.

  “Lord Winton Shriver,” Michael asserted decidedly. “We have been good friends for years and he accompanied me on a visit North recently.”

  This was true. Then, as now, Win’s complicated financial affairs had demanded an urgent retreat from London, and the two young men had travelled North to visit two of Michael’s aunts.

  “So Lord Winton can vouch for your marriage?” Lord Stacey asked.

  “Good Heavens, Stacey! Do you doubt me?”

  “It is not I that you have to convince, Danesbury, but Her Majesty, who has an infernally suspicious mind when she does not get her own way.”

  “Well she isn’t going to get it this time,” Michael replied firmly. “This lady is my wife and I want no other.”

  A pang coursed through Bettina’s heart. He sounded so fervent as he said those words. If only they had been true.

  Lord Stacey regarded Bettina coolly.

  “And may I ask exactly who this lady is?”

  “She is the Countess of Danesbury,” Michael declared.

  “Of course, but before that?”

  “Before that she was Miss Bettina Newton, daughter of Major Newton, lately of Her Majesty’s Army, where he saw distinguished service in the East,” Michael said in the same firm tone.