Love In the East

by Barbara Cartland

  The Marquis was listening attentively as she continued,

  “When my step-father was determined that I should marry this very unattractive man simply because he wanted to improve himself socially, it was then that I realised I wanted to be married for myself and nothing else.”

  The Marquis sighed.

  “Oh, those match-making parents!”

  “I suppose you have suffered from them a great deal,” Shona said.

  “From the day I inherited the title. The irony is that my father, having fought so hard to stop me marrying Angela, died the following year, having fallen from his horse.

  “I found myself with all the money that any man could want, one of the oldest titles in the land and nothing that meant anything to me. The woman who could have given it all some meaning was dead. It was like living in a gilded desert.

  “But all the Society mothers could see was an unattached Marquis, and they converged on me like a pack of hounds after a fox. I was oblivious at first, but gradually the danger of my position dawned on me.”

  “I think perhaps you are making it sound worse than it need be,” Shona told him. “Surely the majority of parents, and I would like to include step-fathers, are not all running after what a man wears on his head, but what is in his heart.”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “You put it beautifully,” he said, “but unfortunately there are a great number of people in this world who want to benefit themselves by a coronet or a full purse.

  “What is more,” he added wryly, “I think I have met most of them at society parties. They are incredibly dull affairs, but the hostess knows that the newspapers will report the dinner or the ball the following day, and those who are not present will grind their teeth with fury because they were not asked.”

  Shona laughed.

  “Are you really as important as that?” she asked.

  “I grant you I may sound rather conceited,” the Marquis answered, “but actually that does happen.

  “In fact, I used to have people come up to me after some party to which they have not been invited, and say they were deliberately left out, and I can only do them a favour by going to a party they will give for me the following week.”

  “So you went from party to party,” Shona said.

  “Just as if I were part of a show,” the Marquis retorted. “I would feel I was acting a part, living up to someone else’s idea of a Marquis. And, of course, that was what I was doing.

  “The truth was very different from their ideas. I lived every moment thinking that Angela should have been there by my side, and that life was empty and meaningless without her.

  “But I couldn’t tell them that. So after a very short while, I dropped out of society. I ordered my yacht to be built to my specifications and set off on my travels.”

  “That is how the stories about you grew up,” Shona reflected.

  “You mean about my being a monster?”

  “Yes. I did not know what to expect when I first met you.”

  He nodded.

  “The tales have grown in the telling and I haven’t discouraged them because it kept people away from me. As often as I could, I travelled the world, looking for George Acton.”

  “And you never found him?”

  “No. I followed him from country to country, but he was always one step ahead of me.”

  “Do you think you will find him this time?”

  It was a shot in the dark. She felt no more than a vague suspicion, but it had grown the more she found out about him.

  She knew she was right when she saw the startled look on his face. For a moment she thought he would deny it, but then his shoulders slumped.

  “I should have realised that someone of your intelligence would guess,” he said. “Yes, I am still after him, but I am moving carefully so as not to attract attention.”

  “But why do you need me?”

  “Because you speak Greek. I have received information that he may have settled in Athens. When we arrive, I will need someone who speaks perfect Greek and who is on my side – someone I can trust not to betray me to him.

  “I will admit I had not intended to bring a woman on a trip that might be dangerous, but I was running out of time and no suitable man presented himself. So I seized on you and perhaps I should not have done.”

  “I am not going home now,” she said quickly.

  “No, I don’t see how you can. You would fall straight into Lockwood’s hands.”

  “That is true, but it is not what I meant. You need me.”

  He stared at her for a moment before saying quietly, “Yes, I believe I do.”

  “Of course it would have been easier if we could have found him in France,” Shona observed.

  “Easier?”

  “He committed this dreadful crime in France, didn’t he? You could have handed him over to the law there. It will be more difficult in Greece.”

  “Yes,” he agreed after a moment.

  “Or do you mean to take him back to England?”

  “He didn’t commit his crime there either,” the Marquis said heavily.

  “No, but his victim was English,” she argued. “Surely something could be managed – ?”

  “It is premature to talk about these possibilities before we find him,” he interrupted her. “I simply have no way of knowing how matters will eventuate in Greece.”

  It was rare for him to speak to her in such a tone. His voice had been sharp, almost as if he was snubbing her.

  Then she reflected on how painful the subject must be to him. It was understandable that he did not wish to dwell on it.

  “You are looking tired,” he said suddenly. “I think it is time I took you back.”

  She wanted to protest that she would rather stay here, but she sensed that he was only making an excuse to avoid discussing the unpleasant subject any further.

  So she smiled and agreed that it was time for them to leave.

  Somehow the sun seemed to have gone in and the joy of the day was over.

  They had seemed to be growing close, and then, without warning, he had given her a glimpse of the barriers surrounding him, barriers that were always present, even though she had been so unwise as to forget them.

  Now she discovered that she really did feel weary and when they reached the house she allowed herself to be sent to bed without protest.

  *

  Over the next few days she found she was able to get out of bed more and more. Lionel was on his feet, having a good time, going for rides, and sometimes playing with the Rivalier children.

  The Marquis continued taking Shona for drives every day. They steered clear of dangerous subjects, but there were many other subjects to talk about.

  He talked about his estate and his large mansion which was over five hundred years old.

  “There is a lake full of fish and beautiful woods where the deer run. There are several farms, where labourers work to make the land fruitful.

  “And in the house I am always conscious of the many generations of my ancestors, the men who fought for their King and the women who stayed at home and ran the estate.

  “Their portraits hang in the picture gallery. There is Elizabeth, who confronted an army of Cromwell’s soldiers in the Civil War. They wanted to burn the house down, because of course we were Royalists. But Elizabeth charmed the Major until he allowed the place to stand for her sake.”

  “I thought roundheads were immune to charm,” Shona remarked.

  “Nobody was immune to Elizabeth’s charm apparently. The Major not only did not burn the house, but he forbade his men to loot it.

  “Then there was Sarah, Elizabeth’s daughter. Charles II fell in love with her, but she was virtuous and rejected him. He laid a long siege, but she was the one woman with whom he suffered total failure.”

  The Marquis talked for hours, describing his ancestors so vividly that Shona felt as though she could visualise them. They were very real to him, and she had a fee
ling that he wanted them to be real to her.

  He made no mention of love, but as they sat there under the trees she could feel ardour flowing from him towards her, embracing her.

  His eyes were saying the words that his lips could not speak and she guessed that her own eyes were answering him. For her heart was giving him her response and whenever he could say the words aloud, she would be ready.

  But the time could not be yet. She understood that.

  ‘If only it could be soon,’ she thought wistfully.

  “I seem to have been talking a long time,” he said at last. “I hope I haven’t bored you.”

  “You know you haven’t,” she replied.

  “Yes, I wanted you to ‘see’ my home and feel for it as I do. It is such a beautiful place. I don’t spend as much time there as I should, but wherever I am in the world it is always there in the back of my mind.

  “I long for the day when I am free to return for good, and make it my real home. And then – ”

  He fell silent. His hand was holding hers.

  “And then?” she asked, hardly daring to breathe.

  He gave an almost inaudible sigh.

  “It is time we were going back.”

  He led her to the carriage, to help her in. At the last moment, he drew her towards him and held her close.

  No words were needed between them now.

  She clung to him, pervaded by the sweetness of the moment, wishing it might last forever.

  But it was a vain wish. She knew that even then. All too soon reality must intrude again. There were still mountains to climb before they could declare their love.

  He handed her into the buggy and they drove home in the fading light, content simply to be together.

  But the world would not be kept away. They sensed that their quiet, blissful time was over as they turned a bend in the road and saw Madame Rivalier standing by the garden gate, evidently waiting for them.

  Even at a distance they could see her agitation and a terrible foreboding rose in Shona.

  The Marquis drew up beside her, asking urgently, “For pity’s sake, Marie, what has happened?”

  “We have an unexpected visitor,” Madame Rivalier said, almost weeping. “He just marched in and started making himself unpleasant.

  “His name is Colonel Lockwood. He says he is Shona’s father, and he has come to take her home whether she likes it or not.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Shona’s worst nightmare had come true. Her hands flew to her face.

  “Oh, no,” she cried in despair. “How could he have found me here?”

  “Then he is your father?” asked Madame Rivalier.

  “No, he is my step-father. And he has no right to give me orders. He is trying to force me to marry one of his friends. Oh, Madame, did you tell him I was here?”

  “Certainly not!” Her hostess was shocked at the suggestion. “He is asking for a Miss Shona Winterton, of whom neither my husband nor I have ever heard. We only know Madame Shona Winters, but we did not feel it necessary to mention her.”

  “You are such a dear friend,” Shona exclaimed in passionate gratitude.

  “Does he know anything about me?” the Marquis enquired.

  “Oh, yes. Someone has told him that Shona is travelling on your boat, but my husband said he could not recall having seen you recently.”

  “He is a good fellow,” said the Marquis fervently.

  “Yes, Charles can be extremely stupid when it is necessary,” said Madame Rivalier. She could not resist adding, with wifely frankness, “also at other times when it is most inconvenient.”

  She collected herself.

  “As soon as I heard the horrible, bullying way in which that man spoke, I knew you must instantly make your escape, without seeing him. So I came here to warn you not to go to the house.

  “Your things have been packed and the carriage, bearing everything, should be on its way to collect you at any moment,”

  “What about Lionel?” the Marquis asked.

  “Making him behave sensibly was most difficult,” Madame Rivalier said with some asperity. “But in the end, Effie told him to shut up and do as he was told. After that there was no problem.”

  The Marquis grinned.

  “Definitely she must marry him. I am not allowing this paragon to escape from my family!”

  At that moment the Rivalier carriage appeared from the far side of the garden.

  “Here they are now,” Marie announced. Go to your yacht quickly and set sail and we will keep Colonel Lockwood talking as long as possible.”

  The Marquis jumped down to the ground.

  “Marie, we are behaving unforgivably. We have put you to so much trouble. And now we are leaving your house like fugitives, without even a proper goodbye.”

  Laughing, she opened her arms.

  “Then say goodbye properly,” she cried.

  He embraced her and gave her a big smacking kiss.

  “That will have to do until we come back this way – and very soon, I hope,” he exclaimed.

  “Of course you must,” she answered. “I want to know what happens. Now here is the carriage. Hurry!”

  The vehicle was nearing them with Effie looking out of one window and Lionel looking out of the other.

  Shona embraced her hostess, and whispered in her ear,

  “Marie, you should have joined the Secret Service, you are so good at intrigue!”

  Which made her scream with delighted laughter.

  The Marquis helped Marie up into the buggy so that she could drive it home.

  Then he and Shona climbed into the carriage, as it was pulling away.

  “Oh miss,” Effie cried. “There he was, as large as life and twice as nasty and saying such terrible things.”

  “Let him say all he likes,” the Marquis said grimly. “We are not going to be around to hear him.”

  “Why are you running away from him?” Lionel demanded. “Why not just stay and crush him?”

  “Because I don’t have the time,” the Marquis growled. “It goes against the grain to run away, but he must wait until my main business is attended to.”

  “But – ”

  “Hush!” Effie told him firmly. “His Lordship knows best.”

  Lionel subsided.

  Shona sat silently, her nerves in shreds. She had come so close to falling into her step-father’s clutches that all her old fears came back again to torment her.

  “Just another few moments and he would have caught me,” she murmured.

  “Nonsense,” the Marquis replied firmly. “As though I would allow that to happen.”

  She could feel safe with him she told herself.

  Nevertheless, she knew she would not be able to relax until they were safely out to sea.

  “Will the Captain be ready to leave?” she asked worriedly.

  “Yes, I had planned to go soon anyway. Yesterday I sent him a message telling him to be ready at a moment’s notice. If he heeded it, we can sail at once. If he didn’t, he will not be long in my employ.”

  At last Marseilles came into view and soon the carriage was rumbling onto the quay.

  The Captain came to greet them with the welcome news that all was ready. They had only to board.

  The sailors unloaded their luggage and carried it onto the ship. The Marquis gave the driver a handsome tip and followed the others up the gangway.

  “Athens,” he ordered the Captain curtly.

  He turned to Shona.

  “For your own safety I suggest you go below until we are out at sea. I will see you later.”

  His tone was courteous but cool and she felt a twinge of dismay.

  Of course he could not speak to her in front of others in the tender way that she had grown accustomed to.

  But still, it hurt to feel that he had now placed her at a distance for reasons that she only partly understood.

  Dangerous times were coming and he was telling her, in his own way, that there were
things she could not share with him.

  The light was fading fast as they met for dinner that night.

  Now that the truth was out in the open, Effie declined to join the other three at the table, until Lionel knocked on her cabin door and insisted.

  His uncle applauded him, rising to draw out Effie’s chair with his charming smile.

  “We four have embarked on this adventure together and there will be no division between us now,” he said.

  Lionel wanted to talk about the events of the day and exclaimed in wonder at what had happened. He was fascinated by the whole story.

  The Marquis allowed him to ramble on, occasionally interjecting some remark worthy of a good host.

  He played the role perfectly but Shona could feel that his mind was elsewhere.

  When the meal was over and Lionel and Effie had gone up on deck, he turned to Shona and asked,

  “Play for me please. Tonight I need the beauty your music can create.”

  They walked to the saloon where she played for an hour.

  She felt somehow that the beautiful music from the piano was lifting her up towards the stars which were now shining brightly in the sky.

  Afterwards he bade her a brief goodnight, escorted her to her cabin door and left her.

  Inside the cabin she stood for a long time at the porthole, staring into the night.

  The stars were still very bright and the moon had taken on an almost magical appearance.

  ‘Thank you God for letting me escape,’ she murmured, ‘and for bringing me to him.’ At the thought of the man she loved, her eyes softened.

  ‘I don’t know what is going to happen. I can sense that there is a rocky path ahead. I believe he loves me, but he will never feel himself free to love until he has brought this man to justice. He tried to tell me that.

  ‘And who knows what we will have to go through together before the path runs smooth for us. But it must run smooth in the end. There must come a time when we can love each other in peace and joy.’

  All the next day she was conscious that they were drawing closer to Athens. She wanted to ask the Marquis so many questions, but somehow she did not seem to encounter him.

  He was avoiding her, she realised with a sinking heart.

  But that night, after dinner, when she was standing at the rail, he came to stand beside her.