The Ship of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  "Well, I didn't mean to sound such a coxcomb. It was rude and I apologise."

  "I accept your apology, but it does not have the effect of making me regard you as a possible husband."

  "Now I shall have to risk being rude again and point out that it is normal for a woman to wait until a man has made an offer before rejecting him. It's a small point, but I thought it as well to mention it."

  In the darkness she blushed with mortification.

  "Oh, how glad you must be that I gave you the chance to say that!" she smouldered.

  "Well, you must admit that until then I was getting the worst of it," he observed mildly.

  "You know very well what I meant. You'd said the Prince as good as told you to propose to me – "

  "No, he didn't go quite as far as that," he said soothingly. "He knows how difficult I am to please."

  There was a sulphurous silence before Rowena said,

  "I suppose I know how to understand that."

  "I am quite sure you do. One thing I did find admirable about you was the sharpness of your wits."

  "Even though you considered that I didn't know how to behave like a lady?" she snapped.

  "You must own to having been a little incautious."

  "Splendid. Then all you need do is tell the Prince that my shocking behaviour makes me quite beneath you."

  "Ah, but your shocking behaviour need not be a problem to me. All I have to do is lock you in a high tower as soon as we're married, and make sure that the world never sees you again, thus leaving me free to live on your money."

  "I beg your pardon!" she said scarcely able to believe her ears.

  "After all, where would I find such another heiress? Your father's fortune has to be considered before I make any rash decisions."

  "You – ?"

  Incensed, Rowena turned on him, but then she saw the gleam of humour in his eyes. It transformed his normally stern face.

  "You are making fun of me," she breathed.

  "You goose, of course I am. What else is there to do but laugh at the fix we're in? I'm not really making fun of you, just the whole situation. It's difficult for both of us, and I can't but feel that dramatic gestures should be avoided. Mostly for your sake. I dare say your father could make himself very unpleasant."

  "He certainly does love to have his own way," Rowena mused.

  "Yes, we have to be subtle here. If we make it too plain that neither of us is remotely interested in marrying the other, we may give offence by our bluntness. So we should let them realise gradually that nothing will come of it."

  "But will they? Papa can be very stubborn."

  "So can I. Nothing on earth can induce me to propose to a woman once I've decided not to. Never fear. You are quite safe."

  "Thank you," she said in a hollow voice.

  "Now I think we may safely return to the others."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Duke led her to the saloon below deck where they rejoined the rest of the guests, who were all enjoying the party. A small party of gentlemen, including the Prince and Colonel Thornhill, had retired to a small saloon to play cards, but after a while they returned.

  Rowena had fallen into conversation with some girls of her own age, and saw the Duke, on the other side of the room, talking seriously with her father and the Prince.

  At last it was time to leave. Being royalty, the Prince of Wales departed first. The Duke took his leave of the Colonel and Rowena with a slight bow.

  "Until tomorrow," he said.

  "What did he mean, Papa?" Rowena wanted to know.

  "He was so interested in The Adventurer that I invited him to join us on board tomorrow."

  "Oh Papa, you didn't!"

  "Certainly I did. Why ever not? He was most interested. Come now, let us be going back to the hotel. Sleep well, and up with the lark, for tomorrow is a busy day."

  "Papa, I know what you're doing and it won't work."

  "Doing? I am at a loss to understand you."

  "You're trying to match me with the Duke of Wenfield, and I won't have it."

  "Aren't you being a little impetuous, my dear? You've only just met him."

  Since it was now too late to tell her father about her two previous meetings with the Duke, this left Rowena in a quandary.

  Nor could she tell him that they had discussed marriage to each other and decided to avoid it at all costs. Papa would be horrified at her lack of delicacy.

  'But he'll be even more horrified that you're defying him,' whispered a little voice.

  "We'll just have a pleasant day tomorrow, and think of nothing else."

  "It won't be a pleasant day if I'm with him," she said fiercely. "I do not like him."

  "Rowena, what are you saying? Did the Duke behave improperly while you were alone? Did he dare to – ?"

  "No, he didn't. We walked the deck, arm in arm, and he made no attempt to – to – behave improperly."

  "He didn't put his arm about you, or try to kiss you?"

  "Certainly not!"

  He sighed. "Ah well!"

  Aghast, Rowena realised that Papa was actually disappointed. If the Duke had tried to compromise her, he might be forced to marry her. That was what the Colonel was thinking.

  Was there anything he wouldn't do to see a coronet on her head? Even if it meant marrying her to the rudest, most obnoxious man in the world?

  It was time to fight back.

  Suddenly she put her hand to her head and leaned back with a sigh.

  "What is it, my dear?" the Colonel asked solicitously.

  "Nothing much Papa, just a headache. Parties sometimes do that to me."

  "Aha, too much jollity!" he said roguishly. "A good night's sleep will put you right."

  In bed that night Rowena thought rebelliously, 'I won't go. I won't go. Why did the Duke of Wenfield agree to this voyage after all we'd said? Perhaps it wasn't his fault, if the Prince was there, listening. But if he can't put a stop to it, then I will.'

  She had no intention of spending a day out at sea, in company with a man who'd made it so rudely clear that he had no interest in her.

  *

  The next morning she didn't get out of bed. Her rebellion had begun. She would simply be too ill for the voyage.

  Jenny carried her message to Colonel Thornhill that she was ailing, and he hurried to see her for himself.

  "I'm sorry, Papa," she said. "But my headache is much, much worse."

  Her father looked at her suspiciously, almost as though she were a malingering recruit in his regiment.

  "The Duke would find me very poor company today," she said.

  As she'd hoped, this was the deciding argument. However disappointed he might be, the Colonel wouldn't risk the Duke seeing her when she wasn't at her best.

  "Very well, my dear," he said. "Keep to your bed today, and I hope you'll be better soon."

  She knew a slight pang of guilt at deceiving him, but she couldn't see that he'd left her any choice.

  More importantly, it would send a clear message to the Duke of Wenfield, that while he might feel obliged to go through a pantomime of social engagements that threw them together, she was made of sterner stuff.

  She lay in bed until she heard him leave, then she rose and went to the window. From here she could just make out the harbour and the masts of The Adventurer. After a while they began to move. She sat there watching until the boat was at sea.

  She spent a dull morning in bed. With nothing to do she began to brood.

  Papa might be baulked this time, but he was a resourceful soldier, and would come again. Who knew what plans he might have made to throw her into the Duke of Wenfield's company next day? Or the day after? She couldn't stay in bed with a headache for ever.

  At last she made up her mind, sat up in bed and rang the bell.

  "We're leaving," she told Jenny when she arrived.

  "Leaving miss? But where?"

  "Back to Haverwick Castle. I feel my headache getting much worse, and I
don't want to be ill in a hotel. I shall go home and retire to my room. I'll leave a letter for my father. Call a carriage, not our own landau, but hire some small, closed conveyance from the hotel."

  She dressed quickly in travelling clothes, and wrote a letter to the Colonel saying much what she'd told Jenny. She left him in no doubt that she was preparing from a long period of withdrawal from society. She left Mrs. Kilton behind to finish packing up her gorgeous clothes and jewels, and follow after. She was determined to escape without delay.

  In the hotel's closed carriage, she was able to close the doors, pull down all the blinds and travel unseen.

  "Oh miss," Jenny wailed. "Are you dying?"

  "Don't be absurd," Rowena chided her kindly. "I'm only – " she checked herself and hastily amended, "I'm only suffering from a very bad headache that will make it impossible for me to entertain."

  "Too ill for parties, miss?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  "Or to wear your pretty dresses?"

  "Too ill for that."

  "Or to entertain the Duke, miss?" Jenny listened to all the gossip.

  "Definitely too ill for that," Rowena declared.

  In an hour they had reached Haverwick Castle, and Rowena retired to her room with a large pot of tea, a plate of cream cakes and a good novel. She needed some way to pass the time in what was clearly going to be a tedious wait.

  The day wore on. As afternoon passed into evening, she braced herself for her father's appearance, or possibly a furious message from Dover demanding her instant return. But there was no message.

  At last Mr. Farley looked in.

  "Are you all right, my darling?" he asked tenderly.

  "Of course I am, Grandpapa. You know there's nothing really the matter with me. I just want to escape that terrible man."

  "This Duke of Wenfield sounds like a monster," Mr. Farley said, wide-eyed. "Oh my dear girl, you may count on my support and protection."

  "Thank you, Grandpapa."

  Rowena hugged him, but it went through her mind that she must rely on herself more than on her gentle grandfather.

  "I wonder what Papa will do when he finds me gone," she mused. "He'll be so angry. Will he come rushing over here?"

  "I've had an idea," said Mr. Farley. "I'll go to the hotel now and talk to him, tell him how poorly you are."

  "But then he'll be angry with you."

  Her grandfather chuckled. "He won't, you know. In his heart he's afraid of me. You'll see."

  He was as good as his word, departing for Dover and returning two hours later to say that the Colonel had not returned.

  "But there's no cause for alarm. Before he set sail he sent a message back to the hotel to say that his journey might go over until tomorrow, or even the day after. So you're safe for a while." He kissed her. "Goodnight, my dearest."

  Full of relief, Rowena snuggled down and went to sleep.

  But before she slept she spared a thought for the Duke, trapped on board The Adventurer with her father, for two days.

  And she couldn't suppress a chuckle.

  *

  She spent the next day pleasantly. In the morning she had a gentle game of tennis with Grandpapa, and when he took his afternoon nap she wandered about in the gardens, thinking how nice it was to have no social duties.

  But her enjoyment was short lived. Soon a powdered footman appeared, looking very strange among the greenery.

  "Miss Rowena," he said, "your father has sent me to fetch you."

  "He's here?"

  "The Colonel arrived a few minutes ago, miss." The footman lowered his voice and said respectfully. "The Duke of Wenfield is with him."

  Rowena's eyes flashed. How dare this man pursue her to her own home, when he knew what she thought of him?

  She was finished, she decided, with being paraded before men with titles as though she was a prize animal at an agricultural show. This time she would simply refuse.

  "That settles it," she said rebelliously. "I'm far too busy to come."

  "You wish me to convey this message to the Colonel, miss?" the footman enquired woodenly.

  A little of her courage seeped away.

  "Couldn't you just say you couldn't find me?"

  "As you wish."

  He departed, with vast dignity.

  When he was out of sight, she began to run in the direction of the stream that ran through the estate. Anywhere, to escape the net that was closing around her.

  She found some children playing with a ball near the water. Nearby, their fathers, estate workers, were pruning trees. She waved to them, and joined in the game with the youngsters, who were tossing a ball back and forth, while a little dog barked with delight and tried to catch it.

  It was a relief to take part in such an innocent pastime, and forget what might be waiting for her.

  Gradually, as she chased and laughed, she found that her mind had calmed down. A new plan was evolving to meet this new situation.

  The Duke had as good as told her that she couldn't be a Duchess because she didn't know how to behave in society.

  Very well! She would show him. When she returned to the house she would act with great dignity, like the fine lady her father wanted her to be. She would not deviate one jot from the insipid rules of etiquette. That would silence his criticism, and make him realise that he had rejected her too soon.

  Absorbed in her thoughts she missed the ball when it flew towards her. It went soaring into the air and landed in the river. The children set up a cry of protest, and one of the boys tried to dart into the water, but Rowena stopped him.

  "No," she said firmly, "the water might be deep, I think I can get it, using this tree."

  A tree on the bank had grown low, so that one thick branch ran out over the water, trailing leaves. The ball had drifted against these leaves and for the moment was motionless. But she knew she must be quick, before it floated away.

  Taking her shoes off she climbed onto the branch and began to edge her way along. She wobbled a good deal, but there were always minor branches to hold on to.

  "Come on, come on," the children shouted encouragement.

  Just a little bit further, just a little bit…

  The branch was getting narrower and shakier under her. It was harder to keep her balance, but she wasn't going to be defeated.

  And then disaster struck.

  Her father and another man appeared from between the trees. She saw annoyance in the Colonel's face at the sight that met his eyes. Rowena saw that, but what she also saw, with dreadful clarity, was the face of his companion.

  The Duke of Wenfield.

  For one appalled moment their eyes held, hers full of shock, his full of cool, ironic amusement. Then she tried to straighten up and lost her footing. The next moment she'd toppled into the water.

  It wasn't as deep as she had thought. In fact she could stand up easily and the water only came up to her waist. But she was horribly conscious of how she must look to him, with her hair plastered to her head and her thin white blouse made transparent by the water. Why, she wasn't decent, she realised with horror, and hastily crossed her arms over her chest.

  She could have screamed with vexation. Only the moment before she'd been planning to impress him with her grand manners. Now there he was, standing on the bank regarding her ironically.

  And here she was, Miss Thornhill, the heiress, the fine lady.

  Looking like a drowned rat!

  "Papa!" she said weakly.

  The Colonel seemed incapable of speech or movement. For a moment it seemed as though he might explode.

  The Duke moved first, coming down to the water's edge and reaching out a hand to her.

  "Allow me," he said.

  "No thank you," Rowena said quickly, backing towards the other bank. "I am in no danger, in fact – please go away."

  She could hear herself sounding like a mannerless schoolgirl, but she was so embarrassed and mortified that she scarcely knew what she was saying.


  "My daughter does not mean what she says," her father hastened to say.

  "Oh, I think she knows her own mind very well," the Duke said coolly. "I can see that my presence must be unwelcome to her."

  He bowed and walked away. The Colonel threw Rowena one glowering glance that promised it would be the worse for her, and hurried to follow him.

  Rowena took a deep breath, thinking she must be the unluckiest person in the world.

  She managed to return to the house by a route that avoided them, and ran upstairs as fast as she could.

  Mrs Kilton exclaimed at the sight of her.

  "Your Papa's here with the Duke of Wenfield, and a crowd of guests arriving later, and look at you!" she exclaimed.

  In a moment she had maids flying about trying to fulfil a dozen orders at once. The Colonel planned to have bathrooms installed in the castle, but so far there had been no time, so one maid dragged out a hip bath while two others scampered to fetch hot water. Rowena scrubbed off the river water, while Mrs. Kilton laid out the clothes she considered suitable for the occasion.

  But Rowena vetoed them all.

  "I will wear something plain and dull," she said firmly.

  "You do not possess anything plain and dull," her dresser said indignantly.

  Rowena set her chin stubbornly. "I want to look twenty years older."

  In the end the best she could manage was a dress of gold coloured twilled silk. The bottom of the skirt was trimmed with black velvet. Sleeves and waist also had black velvet trimmings, and there was a black silk sash.

  "Now you will do my hair as plainly as possible," Rowena commanded. "No frills, no curls, no ribbons."

  Mrs Kilton gave a little scream.

  "I never heard of such a thing. Do you want to end up an old maid?"

  "Yes!"

  Mrs. Kilton was forced to give in, though with much weeping and wailing about her reputation if anyone thought she was responsible for this disaster.

  When Rowena was satisfied that her appearance was as drab as could be managed, she went down the stairs in as stately and dignified a manner as she could.

  When the Duke of Wenfield saw her looking like this, he would forget what she had looked like in the river.

  In the hall she met her father.

  "We have guests arriving or I should have spoken to you sooner," he said in a low, angry voice. "How dare you behave in such a way! First you feign illness to escape the voyage. Then I arrive back at the hotel to find you gone. And then – this morning – "