The Ship of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  "I'm sorry, Papa, but I didn't know you would have the Duke with you."

  "He is here as my guest and – what on earth do you mean by looking like that?"

  "I am dressed with propriety, Papa."

  "You look as ugly as a witch," he said flatly.

  She could not resist saying, "Oh no, Papa. As long as I have your money behind me, men will never find me ugly."

  At that moment she spotted the Duke of Wenfield out of the corner of her eye. It was hard to know how long he'd been there, but from his sudden grin she assumed he'd probably heard her last remark.

  "Miss Thornhill," he said, coming forward, "allow me to hope that you have recovered from your unfortunate fall into the water."

  "Thank you," she said stiffly. "I believe I must go and greet our guests."

  "Of course. But you will permit me the honour of escorting you in to lunch."

  There was no way to refuse him, so she smiled and agreed, but in her heart she was very angry with him. Why could this man not take a hint?

  Carriages were arriving. The lunch party had been arranged quickly, and the Colonel had called on as many local dignitaries as he could find. The vicar, a mayor, and a neighbour who owned race horses, all with their wives.

  Rowena went out to meet them, smiled charmingly, and welcomed them to the house.

  The lofty butler announced that luncheon was served,

  and the Duke stepped forward to offer her his arm. As they walked into the dining room together he murmured,

  "It is quite useless, Miss Thornhill."

  "I fail to understand you, sir."

  "Trying to make yourself look plain. You are bound to fail. You are still the most beautiful woman here."

  "I am not," she said firmly.

  "I say you are."

  "I am not."

  "I am a connoisseur."

  "Yes, you have already informed me that women chase you for your title, so you must have many opportunities to judge. But in my case you are mistaken."

  "Do not argue with me, Miss Thornhill. I am never mistaken."

  The Colonel's expensive French chef had excelled himself, and there were murmurs of admiration for the food. Despite this Rowena found herself feeling very uncomfortable.

  Her attack on her own looks had succeeded far too well, and she caught more than one puzzled glance from her guests. Clearly they were wondering about this dowdy creature, and thinking she needed every possible help from her father's money to get a husband.

  Sometimes they looked at the Duke, and Rowena was angrily certain that they were thinking he must be desperate for money to be here at all, paying attention to this dull young woman.

  She could have screamed with vexation at having made such a stupid mistake.

  It was all the Duke's fault, she thought. If he hadn't behaved so unreasonably, she wouldn't have had to put herself in this position. Really, there was no enduring the man.

  After lunch came an insufferably tedious afternoon, showing her guests around the house and the grounds. The Duke accompanied them, the very picture of gentlemanly interest. Which, she thought bitterly, was exactly the kind of behaviour one might have expected from him.

  "May we not take a little stroll down to the stream?" he asked. "It looks so pretty from here."

  "You have already seen the stream," she reminded him.

  "But your other guests have not, and the house is shown to its best advantage from down there. Water improves a landscape so much, don't you think? And one may always hope to see a water nymph."

  "Really?" she said frostily. "Personally I have never seen a water nymph, and I don't believe they exist."

  "Certainly they do. I saw one myself only recently, and it's a sight I shall never forget."

  Then he was button-holed by the mayor's wife, who professed a deep interest in 'unseen presences'. She interrogated him on this subject all the way to the stream and back, and to do him justice, Rowena thought, he bore it very well.

  Just the same, she felt that he'd come by his just deserts.

  *

  When it came to dressing for the evening, Rowena did not repeat her experiment of the afternoon. Her father would demand that she look her best, and she too had no further desire to be thought dowdy.

  So she allowed Mrs. Kilton to attire her in an evening gown of very thin white muslin over blue silk. It was decorated with deep puffing around the hem, and at the back were three garlands of blue flowers.

  Her hair was dressed in little curls and adorned with tiny blue flowers, matching the ones on the dress. Sapphires hung from her ears and about her neck. Her mirror told her that she was lovely, but was it herself or her fabulous jewels that people looked at?

  Tonight they were entertaining some members of the Clipper Club who had driven over from Dover for the occasion. Here were the titles that the Colonel loved to entertain. Although only the Duke of Wenfield was actually staying in the house, there would be two Viscounts, a Baronet and a knight at his table tonight.

  'And that's all he thinks of,' she brooded. 'Titles, money, social advancement. If only I could escape before this goes any further. But what can I do? Where could I go?'

  After the meal there was to be a 'musical entertainment'. The Colonel had engaged a well known operatic soprano to sing sentimental ballads. As she sat listening, Rowena was aware of interested glances being cast in her direction, and that of the Duke.

  No doubt everyone was expecting an announcement. She felt the net closing around her.

  When the recital was over, the pianist strummed on the piano while the guests began an impromptu dance.

  "Will you dance with me, Miss Thornhill?" the Duke asked her.

  "Thank you, sir, but I prefer not to dance."

  "As you wish. We shall have plenty of time for talking over the next few days."

  "But – aren't you leaving tomorrow?"

  "Not at all. Your father has invited me for another week, and I have accepted."

  She rose to her feet. "I think we should dance."

  As they circled the floor, she said, "I fail to understand you, sir. We are agreed, are we not, that we will not tolerate this attempt to match us? So why are you staying?"

  "Your Papa has promised me some excellent shooting. Whatever efforts he may make to pair us off will not succeed, so I suggest that we simply forget the matter."

  "You know very well that isn't possible, with everyone looking at us. They are doing so now."

  "Yes, I'm rather afraid they are. Let's get out of their sight."

  Before she could suspect what he meant to do, he whirled her out of the French windows onto the terrace.

  "This just makes it worse," she exclaimed crossly.

  "You mean they'll think I brought you here to kiss you? Don't worry, I promise not to."

  "Beware my lord, the net that closes about me will also close about you. Then we'll both be in a fix."

  "We'll have to think of a way of extricating ourselves."

  "I'd hoped you were going to do that, but I see it's all going to be left to me."

  He laughed suddenly. "Do you know, you sound like a governess."

  "I have a practical turn of mind, and it's very useful."

  "I don't much care for practical women."

  "Capital! Things couldn't be better!"

  "And to think I once accused you of trying to lure me on! What was I thinking of?" exclaimed the Duke.

  "Not of me, certainly. I've never tried to lure a man, and I never will."

  "Then you've never been in love."

  "Have you?" she asked, startled into curiosity.

  "Oh yes. Many times."

  "Many times? Then it was not true love, or it would last forever."

  "You may be right," he said, sounding a little sad.

  "The difficulty is – telling the difference at the time."

  "I think you're a most improper person," she said, scandalised.

  "True."

  She knew she sh
ould insist on going inside. No lady could remain on a moonlit terrace with an improper person. But that could wait a little, she decided.

  "Does this remind you of the evening we met at Ellesmere House?" he asked. "The dancing, the moonlight."

  "But nothing else is the same. You concealed your identity."

  "I wasn't hiding in the shadows, as you seem to suggest," he countered. "Lord Ellesmere is a friend of mine. We were at school together and I was paying him a short visit. I passed up the chance to attend the ball because I've attended too many, and spent the evening in the library.

  "After a while I lost interest in my book and turned off the lamp. I went out for a walk in the garden, to enjoy the moonlight, and had just returned when you came flying in."

  "And you immediately thought it was another trick to capture you. And then, of course, when I threw myself into your way on horseback, that decided you. I wonder what I would have to do to convince you that I am not part of my father's plan."

  "You're a little unjust to me, I think. I'd have to be very foolish not to have understood the message you sent me by not coming on that voyage. Not that it was necessary after I'd made it so plain that you had nothing to fear from me."

  "I dare say it's all a misunderstanding, and you don't need Papa's money at all," she said coolly.

  "Oh no, I'm fairly poor."

  "For a Duke!"

  "For a Duke. I have a small house in this part of the country that I must sell. That's why I'm down here at the moment. And there are other economies I must make. I shan't have to sell the Wenfield country seat, but there are some urgent repairs that need doing, especially in the turrets, where I seem to have bats."

  Once more she had the disturbing sensation that he was teasing her.

  "I do wish you would be serious," she scolded him.

  "But my dear Miss Thornhill, bats in the turrets is a very serious matter."

  "Then you do need an heiress."

  "Of course. I've never denied needing an heiress. I merely promise that it won't be you."

  They walked on in silence. She was unable to decide why his attitude was so annoying. She certainly didn't want him, but neither did she desire to be informed at every turn that he didn't want her.

  "I hope you enjoy your trip aboard Papa's yacht," she said, to make conversation.

  "Now you're being untruthful, Miss Thornhill. You hope no such thing. You would prefer us to have been bored to tears with each other's company, and to have learned our lesson so thoroughly that no-one will try to pressure us into marriage."

  She took a deep breath. "Well, I may have been thinking something of the kind about Papa, because when he gets an idea in his head I might as well shout at the moon."

  As if to prove it the Colonel appeared on the terrace before them, beaming.

  "Well, well, we all wondered where the two of you had vanished."

  Rowena inwardly groaned. It was as good as an announcement.

  At the same time, she knew that if Papa hoped to trick the Duke into an engagement by this kind of method, he was in for a disappointment. She might not like the Duke of Wenfield, but she recognised that he was nobody's fool.

  He proved it now, sliding easily around the Colonel's clumsy attempt to back him into a corner, by leading them all back inside, and declaring himself ready for a game of cards.

  After which all the men decided to play cards, leaving the women to talk among themselves. It was done very smoothly and skilfully.

  'Well done!' Rowena thought.

  It was the kindest thing she had thought of him all evening.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It was two in the morning.

  The house was dark and quiet.

  The guests had gone. Those who remained had retired to their rooms to sleep.

  Except for Rowena, who had no intention of sleeping.

  Tonight she must make her escape. She would leave the house, and in the morning they would find her room empty.

  It was drastic, but she saw no other way, of escaping the marriage with the Duke of Wenfield that was being slowly forced on her. Papa would brook no refusal, and whatever he might say, the Duke might not be able to resist all that money to deal with his bats.

  She packed one bag. It was all she dared to take. Then she crept out of her room and headed for the stairs.

  But she was pulled up short by the sound of voices coming from below. She recognised the housekeeper and the head butler, and slipped back into the shadows.

  It was true that they didn't have the authority to stop her, but they could raise the alarm.

  There was only one way open to her, and that was the tree outside her window.

  As a child she'd been a tomboy, always climbing trees to Mama's horror. Looking out of the window she knew she could manage this tree, which had a thick trunk and plenty of heavy branches, some of which came close to the window.

  She dropped her bag to the ground and heard the soft clunk as it landed. Then, hitching up her skirts, she climbed out of the window, tested her weight on a branch, and found it strong enough.

  Moving carefully, she inched her way along until she could grasp another branch and use it to balance herself as she left the window behind.

  Now she was right out in the tree, committed to the outrageous action of running away from home.

  She took one look at the house, thinking there was still time to turn back.

  But no! She had decided. It was time to demonstrate a strong mind.

  She took another step down, and another. She was going to escape.

  But then, as she slowly loosened her grip on the branch above her, she felt something give beneath her. There was an ominous cracking sound. She floundered, seeking somewhere for her foot to land. There was nowhere.

  Then she was falling – falling to earth – falling in darkness.

  She braced herself for a terrible crash landing, broken bones, perhaps death.

  But when her fall stopped suddenly she wasn't on the ground.

  She was in two strong arms, held firmly against a broad, masculine chest, while above her head an exasperated masculine voice was saying,

  "Really Miss Thornhill, you cannot spend the entire rest of your life running away from me. It grows tedious."

  *

  "You must have taken leave of your senses," he thundered. "What kind of bird-brained, feather-headed – "

  "There is no need to insult me," Miss Thornhill said crossly.

  "It is not insulting you to state the plain facts."

  They were in the conservatory, where the Duke had lingered for a final cigar. He had been about to go to bed, when the sound of a bag landing on the ground had alerted him, and he'd gone outside just in time to catch Rowena as she fell.

  The Duke wasted no time taking her indoors, fetching her bag, then returning and locking the conservatory door, enclosing them both. But he did not put on the light, being unwilling to attract attention.

  "If I hadn't been there you might be dead by now," he said furiously. "And if you had escaped – where were you going?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  "There's no such place as 'it doesn't matter'. You can't go there. You've got to be somewhere, and you've got to have a good explanation. And money. Have you any?"

  "I have some jewellery to sell."

  "Wonderful! You should have tried that. Then, instead of catching you from a tree I could have rescued you from a police station. Then we probably would have been compromised."

  "Not in a million years," she said vehemently. "You are the last man I would ever marry."

  "If you continue to play fast and loose with your reputation, I'll probably be the last man you'll have the chance to marry."

  "Then I'll stay an old maid. Anything would be better than you."

  "My sentiments exactly, madam."

  "Then why don't you give me a little help?" she cried. "You say you're as reluctant as I am, but all the work is left to me. Why couldn't you have just
gone away tomorrow?"

  "Because I'm making plans to rent your father's yacht. I thought a cruise would take me away for several weeks and you would no longer be in any danger from me. But there are talks, negotiations, that will take some days. Then I'll be gone and trouble you no more."

  She sighed. "I wish I had known that."

  Something forlorn in her voice made him stop his pacing and look at her more closely in the half light. A gentler expression came over his face.

  "Perhaps I haven't been very clever about this," he said, sitting beside her. "I forget that it's worse for you than for me. A man can always simply leave."

  "But if a girl tries to leave everything goes wrong," she said in a wobbly voice.

  "Come now, you're not going to cry are you? You've been so strong up until now."

  "I don't mean to cry, but I've nowhere to turn for help."

  Then he surprised her. Taking both her hands in his he said, "You can turn to me."

  "No, how can I?" she said with a shaky laugh. "You're the one I'm running away from."

  He considered this. "I think you should stop doing that. It doesn't work. It's better if we're on the same side. You're right, I should have been helping you, and I've done very badly. Will you forgive me for my clumsiness, and let us start again, as friends? As brother and sister if you like."

  How kind and warm his voice was, and how strong his hands holding hers. Suddenly she didn't dislike him any more. If he would be her friend and brother, then there was hope.

  "I've always wanted a brother," she said shyly.

  "Do you realise," he said seriously, "that we are the only two in the world who can solve each other's problems? For mine are the same as yours, with family pressure to make a marriage that takes no account of my feelings."

  "Of course I wasn't meant to be the Duke at all. It was supposed to be my cousin James. But even as a mere cousin, I was told repeatedly that it was my duty to marry in a way that brings credit to the family. Either a lady with a title or a rich father. Preferably both, of course, but at least one or the other.

  "James and I used to commiserate with each other, because of course it was worse for him. They actually managed to engage him to a titled lady, and when he died last year, before the marriage could take place, one of my uncles had the confounded impudence to suggest that she would 'do for me'."