Love In the East

by Barbara Cartland

  “What name shall I say?”

  Shona thought faster than she had ever done in her life.

  “Winters,” she said at last. “Mrs. Winters.”

  “Well, Mrs. Winters, I am sure that if you have come from Her Grace, he will be pleased to see you.”

  Shona stepped inside, followed by Effie, who looked around her as though expecting boiling oil to pour down over them.

  Together they followed the butler down a long passage into a rather austere looking sitting room.

  “If you will be good enough to wait here,” he declared.

  When the butler had gone, Shona walked to the mirror which was above the fireplace to make a final check that she looked ‘in character’.

  What she saw satisfied her.

  The pince nez took away the beauty of her eyes. The severity of her hair was forbidding.

  “Is it wise to choose a name so like your own?” Effie whispered. “Winters is very like Winterton.”

  “That is why I chose it,” Shona replied, also in a quiet voice. “If he takes me abroad with him I shall have to show my passport, which is in the name of Winterton. If he notices the discrepancy I shall just say that he misheard me.”

  “Oh, miss, you are clever.” Shona sighed worriedly.

  “It isn’t very clever, but it was the best I could think of at the time.”

  It was quite a long wait before the butler returned.

  “His Lordship will see you now, madam,” he announced. Shona rose from the sofa on which she had been sitting.

  “That is very kind of him,” she replied.

  “If you will follow me, please.”

  She and Effie exchanged one last glance before she left the room.

  At the last moment she crossed her fingers.

  “Mrs. Winters to see you, my Lord,” the butler said, standing back to let her pass.

  She found herself standing in a library which, like the rest of the house, was gloomy. The Marquis was standing at the window looking out at the garden.

  When he turned round, the light was behind him.

  She thought for a moment it shone around his head and shoulders as if he had just come to earth from the sky above.

  Once she had shaken off this first impression, she realised that he was still an unusual man. He was at least six feet tall, and lean, with fine features.

  His eyes were dark and brilliant, so that she felt a strange intuition that he could see deep into her.

  It was hard to guess his age. He was certainly over thirty, perhaps less than forty, with hair that was dark brown, not white, as Effie had prophesied.

  Most of all, there was a haunted quality about him that had nothing to do with years.

  Haunted. Yes. That was it.

  Shona remembered the story Effie had told her about the woman he had loved and who had been shot through the heart.

  Perhaps she haunted him still.

  “I understand the Dowager Duchess of Gresham has sent you to see me?” he asked.

  “Yes, indeed,” Shona replied. “She informed me that you require someone who speaks foreign languages. I am proficient in French, Spanish, Italian and Greek.”

  The Marquis smiled faintly.

  “That is certainly an admirable collection,” he said. “Only the Duchess could be clever enough to find someone so talented.”

  “I thought perhaps you would be surprised,” Shona answered. “I am best in French and Greek, but I can also read and write in the other two.”

  The Marquis stared at her.

  Then he indicated with his hand where she should sit. Shona sat down on a sofa and immediately realised that the light from the window was directly on her face.

  The Marquis seated himself some distance away from her, in the shadows of the room. Now he could see her clearly while she had only an indistinct impression of him.

  “How do you come to know all these languages?” he asked.

  His voice was deep, and while he sat in the shade it seemed to come from a deep cavern.

  “I have travelled a great deal,” Shona told him.

  “With your husband?”

  “Yes,” she said, improvising hastily. “He was an ardent traveller and we visited many places together.”

  “Would you be offended if I test your abilities?” he enquired.

  “Of course not. I would not expect you to employ me without assuring yourself that I meet your requirements.”

  “Perhaps you could speak to me in Spanish?”

  “It is not my favourite language,” Shona replied, in Spanish, “and I do find the words rather awkward, but I can read and write it as well as speaking it.”

  “And extremely well, if I might say so,” the Marquis answered.

  He too spoke in Spanish, although slowly and with hesitation.

  He switched to Italian, which he spoke as awkwardly as Spanish. “Now tell me, in Italian, what you think the weather is like at this moment in Rome.”

  Shona began to talk about Rome, which she had visited with her father.

  She spoke in a way which made it absolutely clear that she not only knew Rome well, but found the language very easy.

  “That is splendid,” the Marquis exclaimed as she finished.

  Shona decided to take a risk. “How can you know it was splendid?” she asked.

  “You could barely follow me.”

  He sighed ruefully.

  “Is it as obvious as that? Well, if you had spoken more slowly, I think I would have understood better. But you can see now why I need help. I suppose it’s unnecessary for me to test you with the other languages.”

  “I am only too willing to speak them if that is what you wish,” Shona told him.

  “You say you speak Greek. Classical or modern?”

  “Both. Do you wish to try me?”

  “It would be no use? I would not understand.”

  Suddenly he threw himself into another chair and looked at her intently.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he said. “Where is Mr. Winters?”

  “He is no longer alive,” Shona replied with composure.

  “Do you have any children?”

  “No.”

  “How old are you.”

  Crossing her fingers beneath her skirt, Shona said, “I am thirty-one.”

  “When did you marry and how long have you been a widow?”

  Shona hesitated. She had anticipated questions, but not such detailed ones. She did not like having to practise such a deception, but she had no choice if she was to escape her step-father.

  “I was married for ten years,” she said, “and my husband died three years ago.”

  “Then you must have married very young.”

  “I was eighteen.”

  “What was your husband like?”

  “A gentle man and full of learning,” she replied, describing her father. “He enjoyed teaching, so he tried to teach me everything he knew.”

  “Did you appreciate that?”

  “Oh, yes,” she answered with animation. “He was a wonderful teacher. He could make things live. When he talked, everything was interesting. He opened my mind and showed me how lovely the world could be.

  “When we visited great historical places, he would take me walking through the ruins and talk about the people who used to live there.

  “That was how I learned about the ancient Romans, the Greek gods, Spanish musicians and French cuisine.”

  Unknown to her a smile had crept over her face as she spoke about the father she had adored.

  “It was so wonderful,” she said softly. “I never thought of life being any different, but then – ”

  “How did he die?” the Marquis asked gently.

  “He had a heart attack and died in two hours. There was barely time to say goodbye. And suddenly all the light and happiness had gone out of my world. I still miss him terribly.”

  When Shona had finished there was a silence. At last she looked up to find the Marq
uis regarding her with an odd, puzzled look on his face.

  “You must have loved him very much,” he said at last.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And yet – forgive me – he sounds as though he must have been a great deal older than you.”

  “We were not of the same age,” she agreed. “But it did not matter. Why should it?”

  “No reason,” he said hastily.

  “Perhaps I may now ask some questions of you,” Shona said. “What would my duties be and why do you require languages? Do you, perhaps, have an extensive foreign correspondence?”

  “I do correspond frequently, but I also travel a great deal. At this moment I have the idea of writing a book.

  “It will be based on my experiences in various countries and my plan is to return to those countries immediately to gather material.”

  “Your butler said that you were planning to go abroad soon,” Shona observed. “But he did not mention the exact date.”

  “That is because I do not yet know it myself. I have been waiting for the right secretary. Now, I think I have found her. Mrs. Winters, you are too good to be true.”

  Then, in a suddenly decided tone he asked, “Can you leave England almost immediately?”

  Shona drew in her breath.

  “At this very moment or in the next day or so?” she enquired.

  The Marquis laughed.

  “Not quite as quick as this very moment,” he retorted, “but now you are here I see no need to delay further. I would like to leave tomorrow morning. Can you manage that?”

  “I certainly can,” she replied eagerly, thinking that this might be the answer to all her prayers.

  “There is, of course, one problem,” he admitted slowly. “I am sure you realise what it is.”

  “No, I don’t see – do you think, after all, that I will not suit your requirements?”

  “In many ways you will be perfect. But, I must confess, I had not planned to employ a woman. We shall be travelling together, living in each other’s pockets. Tongues will wag.”

  “But we won’t be in one place long enough to hear them,” she pointed out.

  “True, but would you not feel happier bringing a female companion?”

  “I do not fear scandal, my Lord, and neither should you. I am neither young nor pretty and nobody should bother about us.”

  He gave a slight grin.

  “Very well, if you feel so sure, we will take the risk. Can you be here in time to leave very early in the morning?”

  “I can do better,” Shona answered with determination. “I can come immediately. I will return home now to fetch my luggage and tomorrow we can leave at dawn if you like.”

  “Are you not forgetting something, Mrs. Winters?”

  “Am I? What is that?”

  “You have not asked what I intend to pay you. I would have thought that was a very important question.”

  This was a dilemma. Shona had no idea what would be the appropriate salary for such a position.

  “Oh, we can talk about that later,” she said airily. “In fact, I am happy to leave the question of money entirely to you.”

  “You are certainly different from any other employee I have ever known,” the Marquis said quizzically. “I promise to pay you fairly and not betray the trust you have placed in me.”

  He ran a bell on the desk beside him and the butler appeared to show her out.

  At the door Shona looked back to say goodbye, but the Marquis had already turned away from her into the shadows.

  Gathering Effie, who was visibly relieved to see her, Shona hurried out into the street and managed to secure a cab.

  “Is he a monster, miss?” Effie asked breathlessly when they were moving.

  “No,” Shona replied with a little smile. “He is not a monster, but he is a very unusual man. In fact I have never met anyone quite like him.

  “Now, we have to get home, pack, and then leave before the Colonel can stop us,” she said.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to the Marquis’s house.”

  Effie’s eyes popped.

  “You’re going to live with him?”

  “Not to live with him,” Shona said quickly. “I shall stay under his roof tonight and then tomorrow we are going abroad.”

  Shona frowned as she added, “I have to think of you. I can’t leave you behind to face the Colonel’s wrath, so we must find a way to get you out too. If I give you some money for a dowry, can you go to Jimmy?”

  “Oh, yes, miss.”

  As soon as they reached home, they raced upstairs and were lucky enough to escape detection.

  “Get your clothes out,” Shona said impatiently. “And take any of mine that you want. We are going to swap.”

  In a few minutes they had packed two large suitcases.

  “Go out and find us a cab,” Shona instructed Effie. “I will be downstairs in a moment.”

  Now came the hard part. Shona knew she could not simply vanish without a word to her mother, who must not be allowed to worry.

  She sat down and wrote her a letter.

  “Dearest Mama,

  I have decided to go away for a little while. I simply cannot remain here and allow the Colonel to bully me about getting married.

  Please do not worry about me. I have many friends whom I can visit, and shall probably move around between them. The McPhersons have often invited me to stay, and I know they would be glad to see me.

  The McPhersons lived in Scotland. Without actually saying she was going there, she had dropped a hint that might send her step-father chasing north, while she was going south.

  She finished the letter,

  I will write to you very soon,

  All my love, dearest Mama,

  Shona.”

  She sealed the letter and summoned a footman. When the young man arrived, she gave him the sealed envelope, with instructions to give it to her Mama as soon as she awoke.

  “Now I need your help getting these cases downstairs,” she said. “I am sending some of my things to charity and there are rather a lot of them.”

  By the time everything was downstairs, Effie had returned with the cab. The footman helped her pile the bags in, but looked alarmed when she climbed in after them.

  “But miss, what about one of our own carriages?”

  “No time,” she said. “Goodbye.”

  Somewhere overhead she heard a window being opened and she looked out of the cab.

  Her step-father was staring down at her, bleary-eyed, as though he had just arisen from a drunken stupor. When he realised what was happening, he seemed to wake up with a start.

  “Stop!” he called.

  “Hurry,” Shona told the cabman. “Get right away from here as fast as you can.”

  The cabman started his horse and in a moment they were turning the corner.

  “Turn another corner, quickly,” she called.

  “Anything you say, miss,” said the cabman, gamely trying to keep up.

  Shona’s heart was beating with fear as they twisted this way and that to escape her step-father. She had no doubt that he would follow her on horse-back as soon as he could dress.

  “Where am I going?” the cabman called desperately.

  She gave him the Marquis’s address and then spoke to Effie.

  “When I have got out he can take you on to Jimmy. Here’s some money to pay him and here’s some more money as my wedding gift, Effie dear.”

  “Oh miss!” Effie threw her arms about her mistress’s neck.

  Shona hugged her back, hoping her own problems could be solved just as easily.

  At last they drew up outside the Marquis’s house. To Shona’s relief the door opened and two footmen appeared.

  When they had taken down Shona’s luggage, Effie gave the driver a new address. The two women hugged each other again and the cab drew away.

  The housekeeper greeted Shona, explained that the Marquis had gone out for awhile and sh
owed her to her room.

  It was an elaborate guest room with a huge bed and elegant decorations. But Shona hardly noticed anything. She paced up and down in agitation, wishing the time would pass quickly so that she could get away.

  Hours passed and the Marquis did not return. A maid came to say that her dinner was to be served downstairs.

  Shona descended and ate in solitary state, hurrying through the meal so that she could retire to her room as soon as possible.

  Then, as she was drinking her coffee, she heard a noise from the hall outside. Assuming it was the Marquis, she rose to greet him.

  But the man who entered was not the Marquis, although she could instantly see that they must be related.

  He was in his early twenties, with the same tall figure and lean face as the Marquis. But there was a weakness about his mouth that detracted from his handsome looks.

  “Good evening ma’am,” he said, stopping when he saw Shona. “I am the Honourable Lionel Hilton, Chilworth’s nephew. And you?”

  “My name is Mrs. Winters, and his Lordship has hired me as his secretary,” she said calmly, preparing to leave.

  “Has he? Oh God, that’s dished everything.”

  Lionel pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, regarding her.

  “You don’t look like a secretary to me,” he announced.

  “But I look like one to his Lordship and that is all that counts. Does that trouble you?”

  “The thing is – I was rather hoping to be his secretary myself. It would just suit me to go on this trip with him.”

  He looked at her hopefully, and Shona gathered that she was expected to abandon her job for his sake. Clearly this spoilt child had never been denied anything he wanted.

  At the same time he was impossible to dislike. His air of being a confiding puppy was disarming.

  “I am sorry to disoblige you sir, but Lord Chilworth has hired me.”

  “But you could do something else,” he suggested.

  “So could you.”

  “Well – actually I am not good for much.”

  “Then you will hardly be any use to him as a secretary,” Shona suggested, amused at her impudence despite herself.

  “I don’t suppose there will be very much work involved. I am sure I could do it.”

  “Have you offered your services to Lord Chilworth?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He said nothing on earth would persuade him,” Lionel admitted. “But I should have so liked to go with him.”