The Husband Hunters

by Barbara Cartland

  Then she told herself that they would perceive she was a lady and if she insisted it would not be possible for them to prevent her gaining access to their Master.

  “What made you decide on this – adventure?” her dinner companion asked.

  There was a slight pause before the last word, but Andrina had made up her mind not to discuss her private affairs any further.

  She certainly did not wish to talk about Cheryl or Sharon until she had convinced the Duke how important it was that they should be launched in Society and it was impossible for her to talk about herself without including them.

  Instead she said with a smile,

  “Will you not tell me about the races? I know a little about horses and I should be interested to hear what won.”

  It was true that she knew the names of the best-known horses in the racing world.

  Her father, in the last year of his life, suffered with his eyes and Andrina or one of his other daughters, read aloud the newspapers to him every day.

  Colonel Maldon had taken not only The Morning Post but also a sporting paper that devoted itself mostly to racing and boxing.

  The reports of the mills and the injuries suffered by the pugilists taking part made Andrina feel slightly sick. But she enjoyed reading about horses racing and her father, if he was in a good mood, would tell her stories of the owners he had known when he was young.

  She therefore managed to have quite an intelligent conversation with Sir Tancred who seemed surprised that she knew so much.

  “Are you an owner, sir?” Andrina enquired.

  “I am!” he answered.

  He did not seem anxious to mention his horses by name and she thought that perhaps he was one of those who were unfortunate on the turf and therefore did not wish to speak of his losses.

  When dinner was over and Andrina had refused a glass of port, Sir Tancred suggested that they move nearer to the fire.

  “It was cold enough racing today,” he said, “and this inn, being old, seems to let in all the draughts.”

  “Perhaps you have not lived in the country as I have,” Andrina said with a little smile. “One becomes immune to cold after a time.”

  She thought how cold the manor house was during the winter. The snow had often blocked the roads and even to get to the village someone had to dig them out.

  “You don’t look the hearty type of country girl who would enjoy a breezy walk on the moors,” Sir Tancred said with a twist of his lips. “I expect in London you will find someone who will be only too ready to wrap you in sables and fill your rooms with hothouse flowers.”

  There was something in the way he spoke that told Andrina he was being sarcastic.

  She certainly did not expect the Duke to wrap her in sables. At the same time there was no reason why any gentlemen she met at a ball should not send her, and certainly Cheryl and Sharon, bouquets of flowers.

  There was something about Sir Tancred that made her decide he was conceited.

  He had a superior air as if he thought he was better and of more consequence than anyone else.

  ‘Perhaps that is only because he thinks I am insignificant and of no importance,’ Andrina thought.

  She wished that she could make him see that she was not half as humble in origin as her clothes might suggest.

  “People take you at face value,” her father had once said bitterly, “or rather at the value of your bank balance!”

  There must be some truth in this, Andrina thought.

  If she was a lady of fashion, she was sure that Sir Tancred would be paying her compliments and certainly not looking at her in a manner that made her feel shy.

  Instead of sitting down beside the fire she said,

  “I think, sir, as the stagecoach will be leaving very early in the morning, at five o’clock, to be precise, I should retire now. It has been a long day.”

  It had in fact been half-past five when she boarded the stagecoach, which had left Chester at five. The warmth of the fire, the big dinner she had eaten and the glass of claret that Sir Tancred had persuaded her to drink was making her feel very sleepy.

  “Thank you very much for giving me dinner,” Andrina said. “It was exceedingly kind of you. I should have been very hungry indeed if I had had to wait until now, as the innkeeper intended.”

  “I see no reason for you to leave me so quickly.”

  Sir Tancred put his glass of port down on a side table by the armchair and said,

  “You are very pretty. If you are in search of a man, why go further?”

  As he spoke he put his arms around Andrina and pulled her against him.

  Then, as she was immobile with the surprise of his action, his lips were on hers.

  For a moment the shock of realising that he was kissing her made her unable to move, unable to struggle.

  His lips were hard and demanding and the feel of them was different from anything Andrina had imagined a kiss would be like.

  Then, as she tried to move her hands to push him away, a sudden sensation ran through her body, almost like a streak of lightning.

  It was almost painful in its intensity and yet at the same time a rapture.

  Then, before she could realise it was there or even think of it, she tried to force herself away from him.

  But she had not sufficient strength as Sir Tancred held her completely captive, his mouth imprisoned hers and his arms encircled her whole body so that she could not move.

  Then instinctively, as Andrina realised what was happening and knew she must be free, she brought her heel down hard on Sir Tancred’s foot.

  He gave an exclamation that was half an oath and in that moment she twisted herself out of his arms and ran across the room towards the door.

  As she opened it, she was aware that he had not followed her and in a voice that she hoped was cold and scathing but instead was somehow soft and breathless she said,

  “I thought – I was dining with a – gentleman!”

  She went out through the door and slammed it behind her.

  She ran up the creaking oak stairs to the attics, hurried into her room and having lit a candle, locked the door behind her.

  Then she sat down on the bed to realise in consternation what had happened.

  She had been kissed!

  Kissed for the first time in her life by a man she had never seen before.

  There had been quite a number of men from time to time who had tried to kiss Andrina, the sons of local Squires, the elderly cronies who came to see her father and had an eye for a pretty girl and on one memorable occasion a Member of Parliament.

  He was a married man with four children, who pretended, when Andrina protested indignantly, that he was merely interested in her as a constituent.

  The nearest anyone had come to kissing her was a light brush on her cheek and she had been determined in her own heart that she would never give her lips to a man unless she loved him.

  She was not quite certain what was implied by the immorality of which so many people spoke when they criticised the behaviour of the Prince Regent and those who constituted the ‘Carlton House Set’.

  But she was sure that it had something to do with kissing and she thought that to be kissed by a man one did not love or intended to marry would be to degrade one’s self.

  But now it had happened to her and she had not thought that a kiss would be not only so intimate but also in a strange manner disturbing.

  It was impossible not to think of the strange feeling, half-pleasure, half-pain, that had run through her when Sir Tancred’s mouth was on hers.

  Had he been aware of it too? she wondered.

  Then she told herself that his feelings in the matter were not of the least consequence.

  He had behaved absolutely outrageously, not only in asking an unchaperoned and defenceless woman to dine with him, but then by insulting her.

  She wished now she had had the time to tell him exactly what she thought of his behaviour, but she had wanted to
escape and she knew now how strong he was. If he caught her again, she might not be able to free herself a second time.

  She only hoped, she thought, that she had really hurt him when she had stamped on his foot.

  Because it had been so cold she had not only worn her velvet evening gown that was in no way décolleté but she had also put on a pair of leather house slippers, strapped across the instep and on which there was a well-shaped wooden heel.

  It was undoubtedly quite an effective weapon when used to good purpose!

  “I hope it hurts him all night!” Andrina said almost vindictively.

  Then once again she remembered the strange feeling his lips had evoked in her.

  It had all happened so quickly and even now the shock of finding Sir Tancred’s arms around her and his mouth on hers seemed like an illusion rather than reality.

  But it had happened!

  ‘Never again,’ Andrina told herself, ‘will I ever be able to say I have never been kissed!’

  Then, as she thought about what had happened, she realised that Sir Tancred had insulted her more than by a kiss.

  “If you are in search of a man, why go further?”

  It had never occurred to her that her innocent answer to his question could be misconstrued into something unspeakable.

  But it had and Sir Tancred had thought – what had he – thought?

  Andrina felt her cheeks burning at the explanation she could not express even to herself.

  'How dare he?”

  She said the words out loud.

  “How dare he?”

  She wanted to scream at him, to strike him and she only wished she could have dug a sword into his foot instead of using her heel.

  Then she told herself firmly it was no use getting hysterical, she would never see Sir Tancred again and she would not give him the stature of even thinking about him.

  He was utterly and completely despicable!

  *

  There was predictably no sign of Sir Tancred the following morning when the stagecoach left the inn at five o’clock after a badly cooked and very sparse breakfast served by a yawning waitress.

  The horses, however, were fresh and they made good progress on the journey to the next Posting inn, so that Andrina began to hope that she would arrive in London in time to see the Duke that night and not have to wait until the morrow.

  Although she had sounded confident about finding accommodation at an hotel, she was not so naïve as not to be aware that most hotels would not welcome an unattached woman, especially one who was demanding the cheapest accommodation.

  The hours passed slowly but the day was fine and the roads from Leicester were far better than those they had travelled on the day before.

  The coachman also was obviously anxious to reach his destination. He pushed his horses, allowing the passengers the minimum amount of time at the Posting inns before he had them back in their places and they set off once again.

  It was a great relief when the woman with the baby got off at Market Harborough and her seat was taken by an elderly red-faced man who appeared to have fortified himself against the journey.

  After a few jovial remarks to the assembled company, he put a large bandana handkerchief over his face and went to sleep, snoring louder than the clerk who was still sitting opposite Andrina had done the day before.

  Without mishap, without check of any sort, they rolled into the yard of The Swan with Two Necks in Lud Lane, which was off Gresham Street, on the stroke of five o’clock.

  The yard was much bigger than Andrina had expected and seemed to seethe with activity. She had never seen so many coaches or horses together before.

  She expressed her thoughts aloud and the fat man in the furthest corner replied,

  “Aye, William Chapter knows his job right enough! One thousand horses he had when I last asked he and sixty coaches on the road!”

  The cold and bleary-eyed travellers from the incoming coaches untangled their aching limbs and hastened to the coffee room.

  Waiting passengers finished their pigeon pies, boiled beef and ham and took a last nip of brandy before taking their places in the outgoing vehicles.

  Remembering what Cheryl had said about making herself presentable, Andrina went at once to The Swan with Two Necks and asked if it were possible to hire a room where she could change her clothes.

  “It’ll cost you two shillings,” the porter said laconically.

  “Two shillings?” Andrina exclaimed. “But I shall not be using it for more than ten minutes!”

  “Two shillings is what we charge,” the porter said in a take it or leave it voice that told Andrina that it would be stupid to argue.

  “Very well,” she said producing the money and he told the pageboy to show her into a small badly furnished room at the back of the inn.

  She took off her travelling gown and after washing herself put on a more elegant creation that the girls had decided was the best garment she had to confront the Duke in.

  It was passably fashionable since Andrina had taken in the skirt, which had been much too full, heightened the waist and added a frill of real lace round the neck which she had found in one of her mother’s drawers.

  The material was a soft pink that became her and, she thought, gave a little colour to her pale cheeks.

  The bonnet she had worn during the journey had also been her mother’s and it had been greatly improved by some ribbons that Sharon, who was quite skilful with her fingers, had sewn on it.

  When she had finished dressing, Andrina looked at herself in the mirror and decided that, if nothing else, she looked a lady and, without the competition of Cheryl and Sharon, she was as pretty if not prettier than most of the women anyone would meet in London.

  At least she hoped so, but now she had reached the busy Metropolis, she was half-afraid that what had seemed beautiful in Cheshire would pale into insignificance in the Social world.

  Then she told herself there was no doubt that Cheryl and Sharon were beautiful and she herself was definitely pretty.

  She would be a fool if she thought otherwise.

  ‘Besides,’ Andrina told herself, ‘I shall never convince the Duke if I am not convinced myself.’

  She ordered a Hackney carriage and told the driver to go to Broxbourne House.

  “In Curzon Street, miss?” the man asked.

  “That is correct,” Andrina replied, only hoping it was.

  Sharon had been right, she thought, as they set off. The great houses in London were called after their owners and naturally the drivers of the Hackney carriages would know where they were situated.

  At the same time as they drove along she could not help a cold feeling inside her which seemed to increase as they came to what was obviously the more fashionable part of the City.

  There was a number of large, imposing mansions and squares in which the gardens in the centre were filled with the first flowering shrubs of spring.

  There were lilacs, laburnums and syringa, all more in bloom than the same shrubs were in their garden at home.

  Andrina was sitting forward in her seat watching the crowds in the streets, noting the carriages drawn by superlative horseflesh and feeling as if a new and exciting panorama was unfolding itself before her eyes.

  ‘London is exciting!’ she told herself.

  She was absorbed in looking out of the window, catching a glimpse of a hurdy-gurdy with a red-coated monkey on top and surprisingly a flock of sheep being cursed by the drivers of drays piled high with barrels.

  There were women with baskets selling bunches of primroses and daffodils, a muffin man ringing his bell and balancing a tray filled with his wares on top of his head.

  It was all so fascinating to Andrina and it came as a surprise when the carriage slowed down and she realised that they were entering through high wrought-iron gates which were open to reveal a large white mansion at the end of a short drive.

  Andrina had only a quick glimpse of flower beds planted with
crimson tulips and the high white pillars of a portico, before they had reached the front door and footmen with powdered wigs and wearing an elaborate dark blue and gold-braided uniform opened the door.

  She stepped out and, because she was very conscious that her valise was on the seat beside her with her travelling cloak thrown over it, she decided that she must be extravagant and tell the cabby to wait for her.

  She was confronted on the doorstep by an exceedingly imposing pontifical man who Andrina realised was the butler.

  “Your pleasure, madam?” he asked with a solemnity she found slightly intimidating.

  “I wish to see the Duke of Broxbourne.”

  “Have you an appointment with His Grace, madam?”

  “No,” Andrina answered. “Will you kindly inform His Grace that I am here after travelling a very long way and that my name is Miss Andrina Maldon, the daughter of Colonel Guy Maldon!”

  She spoke slowly so that the butler could take in what she said and she had rehearsed it to herself.

  “Will you come this way, madam?” the butler asked.

  He walked slowly like the verger leading the choir up the aisle in Church, Andrina thought.

  She found herself in a large marble hall decorated with statues. A double staircase with gilded bronze balustrading led up to the first floor, a huge crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and there were a number of gold-framed mirrors in which Andrina could see herself reflected and re-reflected.

  There was also an inordinate number of footmen, she thought and, because they made her feel shy, she lifted her head a little higher and walked with her back straight, as her mother had always taught her to do.

  The butler opened a large mahogany door.

  “If you will wait here, madam,” he said. “I will inform His Grace of your arrival.”

  He closed the door behind Andrina and she looked around her with an irrepressible curiosity.

  The room was not large, but exquisitely furnished. Never had she imagined that she would see so many treasures collected in one place.

  She had visited some large and imposing houses in Cheshire, but none of them had anything to compare with the French commodes she saw now, the inlaid secretaire, the high-backed tapestry chairs.