The Husband Hunters

by Barbara Cartland

  “I have no intention of doing anything of the sort!” Andrina answered angrily. “Cheryl very much likes the Marquis. It is obvious that he loves her. Why should they not be married? Why should you interfere?”

  There was silence.

  Then the Duke said,

  “You are making this rather difficult for me, Andrina, and I should have prevented Glen from sending that over-dramatic letter to Cheryl. It will, of course, upset her quite unnecessarily, but frankly, although I think she was flattered by his attentions, I don’t believe that her heart is really involved.”

  “Cheryl likes the Marquis,” Andrina replied, “and if he wishes to marry her I have every intention of allowing them to do so.”

  “You need my permission.”

  “That is nonsense, as you well know!” Andrina snapped. “I forced you against your better judgment into constituting yourself our Guardian. You said it was a crazy scheme and you wished to have little part in it. Now you are interfering, giving orders, preventing us from doing what we wish to do. Cheryl will marry the Marquis!”

  “I think you will find that the Marquis will not ask her,” the Duke said firmly.

  Andrina stamped her foot.

  “He loves her! He says so in this letter! But it is obvious that you have put some pressure on him and he is afraid of you.”

  The Duke did not answer and Andrina added,

  “Very well, I am going to find the Marquis now at this moment. I am going to tell him that you have no jurisdiction over us whatsoever and, if he wishes to marry Cheryl, he may do so!”

  She turned to leave the room, but the Duke put out his hand and caught her wrist.

  “Listen to me. I have a reason, a very good reason, why Cheryl cannot marry the Marquis.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Andrina said angrily.

  “Please trust me, Andrina.”

  The Duke was pleading with her, but she was too angry to listen.

  “You are just being tyrannical and autocratic as you have been before,” she stormed. “You do not want to do what is best for Cheryl and you do not want her to be a Duchess! You are being deliberately obstinate for no reason, except in order to show your power. I am going to see the Marquis and nothing you can do or say will stop me!”

  She twisted her arm but the Duke still kept his hand firmly on her wrist.

  Then he said quietly,

  “If you persist in making a fool of yourself, I suppose I shall have to tell you the reason why I have told the Marquis he cannot marry Cheryl.”

  “What is it? If you have any reason!” Andrina demanded.

  “He is already married!”

  Andrina was still, the anger fading from her eyes.

  “How can that be true? And if it is, why does no one know about it?”

  “Sit down, Andrina,” the Duke said. “I did not wish to tell you this because it concerns only the Marquis and he is in fact more sinned against than sinning. But I have to make you understand.”

  He released her wrist and because she suddenly felt weak, Andrina sat down on a chair.

  “Is that really the truth?” she asked.

  “Nine years ago when he first went up to Oxford,” the Duke said, “the Marquis got in with a riotous and fast set. They used to come up to London regularly during the term and enjoy themselves in nightclubs of doubtful repute.”

  He paused to go on slowly,

  “After one very drunken evening Glen found that he had married a woman with whom he had been enjoying himself, although he had little memory of it.”

  “They were – really married?” Andrina asked in a low voice.

  “She stage-managed the whole thing, knowing who the Marquis was. The Parson, although he was a reprobate, was nevertheless in Holy Orders and the Marriage Certificate was genuine.”

  The Duke sighed before he continued,

  “The Arkraes were naturally appalled when they heard what had occurred, but a divorce would have caused a great scandal. As you know, it requires an Act of Parliament.”

  “What did they do?” Andrina asked.

  “They paid the woman a large sum of money to go abroad and not return to this country. Two years later they announced to their family and their immediate friends that she had died.”

  Andrina’s eyes lit up.

  “Then if she is dead, the Marquis is free.”

  “That is what he himself believed,” the Duke replied, “but unfortunately I met his wife when I was in Brussels after the Battle of Waterloo.”

  “How could you have met her?” Andrina asked in a hostile voice, as if she did not believe him.

  “I was celebrating our victory with several of my brother officers,” the Duke replied, “and, when I saw the proprietress of the ‘maison de plaisir’ in which we were amusing ourselves, I felt sure that I had seen her before.”

  “Where had you done that?” Andrina asked.

  “I was one of the party of undergraduates who came to London from Oxford the night that Glen was married!”

  “You were there?”

  The Duke nodded.

  “I was there!”

  “Then why did you not prevent it?”

  “There were at least a dozen of us present,” the Duke replied, “but I was older than Glen and not a particular friend of his. Frankly no one had any idea that this woman, who was in those days most attractive, had anything like marriage in mind.”

  He smiled a little cynically before he added,

  “We were all considerably ‘foxed’ by the end of the evening!”

  “Are you sure it was the same woman you saw in Brussels?” Andrina asked. “What was she doing in a ‘house of – pleasure’?”

  The Duke paused for a moment and then he replied,

  “She owned it!”

  “What happened there?” Andrina asked. “Was it a place where you could gamble?”

  Again the Duke paused before he replied,

  “That sort of thing!”

  “And you are quite certain it was the same person?”

  “As a matter of fact she remembered me or I would not have been able to place her,” the Duke answered. “She had altered considerably and it was not for the better! In fact I doubted very much if she would live long. She was coughing blood and, although I am not a doctor, I am sure that she has a wasting disease!”

  “But the Marquis is still married?”

  “He is still married,” the Duke affirmed, “although he does not wish to think so.”

  “It is too cruel – too unfair!” Andrina exclaimed.

  “I agree with you,” the Duke said quietly. “At the same time there is nothing you can do about it.”

  “No, I realise that,” Andrina said, “and I had been so certain that Cheryl would be happy with him. She does not like many men. She is frightened of them, but she gets on well with the Marquis.”

  “He would certainly frighten no one!” the Duke said with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. “Equally I am not certain that if two such ineffectual people married they would deal well together. I cannot imagine Cheryl running a big castle in Scotland or taking over from the Duchess, who has a very distinct and domineering personality.”

  “You don’t have to be domineering to be a Duchess,” Andrina remarked.

  “There are certain duties that are expected from a Ducal family,” the Duke replied, “especially in Scotland, where the Chief of the Clan reigns almost as a King.”

  Andrina had to admit to herself that Cheryl would find this difficult, but she did not wish to give the Duke the satisfaction of hearing her admit that he was right.

  “So there is nothing we can do, Your Grace?” she said. “I suppose now I shall have to try and find someone else for Cheryl. It is most unfortunate that she has wasted so much time already with the Marquis.”

  “That is undoubtedly a catastrophe,” the Duke commented.

  There was a twinkle in his eye and Andrina knew that he was laughing at her.

 
; “It is all very well for you to talk like that,” she said hotly, “but money does not last for ever.”

  She thought that he would say something scathing in reply and so, before he could answer her, she turned and went from the room, shutting the door noisily behind her.

  She went upstairs to Cheryl’s bedroom to find her sister sitting moodily in a chair.

  “Are you very upset, darling?” she asked.

  “I like him,” Cheryl said, “and he loves me, he told me so! Why has the Duke sent him away?”

  “I think he thought that you would find it difficult to be the Duchess of Arkrae,” Andrina replied quickly. “They have an enormous castle and vast estates in Scotland and the Duke and Duchess are treated almost like Royalty. I would like to think of you reigning there, Cheryl, but would it make you happy?”

  Cheryl shook her head.

  “I did not think of it like that,” she said. “The Marquis is quiet and gentle, but I would be terrified of meeting crowds of people. You know I don’t like that sort of thing.”

  “Yes, I know, dearest,” Andrina said, “and therefore perhaps it is for the best that he should go away now, rather than if you had fallen in love with him.”

  “He was very nice,” Cheryl said wistfully, “but he did not say very much.”

  “Try and forget him,” Andrina begged. “The Duke is wise in such matters and he was sure you that would not be happy.”

  “That was kind of him,” Cheryl said. “I had forgotten that the Marquis will eventually become a Duke. If I had to run a house as big as this, I could never manage, I know I could not!”

  “But you would have lots of servants to do it for you,” Andrina said reassuringly.

  “It is too big!” Cheryl said positively.

  Andrina was relieved that her heart seemed not to be too involved.

  At the same time she could not help thinking that it was a tragedy that Cheryl could not marry the Marquis and, whatever the Duke might say, she was sure that they would have been content together.

  Now she had to start all over again finding a husband for Cheryl and she knew it would not be an easy task, despite her sister’s acknowledged beauty.

  Sharon and Lady Evelyn were naturally extremely curious as to why the Duke had sent the Marquis away.

  “I am not allowed to tell you the reason,” Andrina said loftily. “You will have to ask the Duke yourselves.”

  She was quite certain that neither of them would presume to do so and while they tried to persuade her to tell them secretly, she would not be drawn, feeling that it was not fair on the Marquis, for whom she had the deepest sympathy.

  She could not help wondering, however, if the Duke had enjoyed himself in the ‘house of pleasure’ in Brussels.

  Perhaps when he was with the type of woman he would meet there, he was more relaxed, less aloof and probably less cynical – but that was something she would never know for certain, she told herself.

  Lady Evelyn had some shopping to do and asked Andrina to accompany her.

  Sharon said that she had some letters to write and Cheryl said that she was too tired.

  They therefore had a very early luncheon, before Andrina and Lady Evelyn set off for the shops.

  Andrina had made up her mind that they must spend no more money on clothes unless it was absolutely necessary.

  She was quite certain that already they must have spent a great deal of their precious five hundred pounds, and she thought that once again she must ask the Duke to render her an account so that she would know exactly what they had left.

  Nevertheless there was a gown in Madame Bertin’s that was irresistible. In white gossamer net it was exactly the sort of dress in which Cheryl would look angelic and Andrina thought perhaps it would cheer her up if she took it home with her as a present.

  Madame Bertin was only too willing to oblige and it did not take long to have it packed and placed in the carriage.

  They set off driving back through the crowded streets, which never ceased to amuse and interest Andrina almost as if they were a theatrical performance, staged especially for her benefit.

  “I cannot believe that anywhere else in the world one can see such smart people or such magnificent horses,” she said to Lady Evelyn.

  “You are right there,” Lady Evelyn replied. “I have, as you know, travelled a great deal and my husband and I always said that for real elegance there was nowhere like London, especially in the Season.”

  “Of course we are only looking at the best parts of it,” Andrina said. “I have heard terrible stories of the slums and of what goes on in St. Giles and other places like it.”

  “My dear, it’s no use troubling yourself with such matters,” Lady Evelyn said. “I can promise you that in that respect London is not half as bad as Rome or even Paris!”

  ‘It is bad enough,’ Andrina told herself.

  She had heard stories of the flash houses where thieves and child pickpockets herded together in places so rough that no respectable person would dare to go near them.

  She had read reports in newspapers of the cruelty with which some apprentices were treated and she longed to support those who were fighting for the abolition of the young chimneysweeps, ‘the climbing boys’ as they were called.

  She wondered if the Duke ever concerned himself with such matters and then told herself that Lady Evelyn was assuredly right and he was too selfish and egotistical ever to be concerned with anyone or anything except himself.

  They arrived home and, as she walked into the hall, Andrina said to the butler,

  “Is Miss Cheryl downstairs?”

  “No, Miss. Miss Cheryl has gone driving.”

  “I thought she was going to rest!” Andrina exclaimed. “Who did she go with?”

  “With the Marquis of Glen, miss. He called soon after you had left with her Ladyship.”

  “And Miss Cheryl has gone driving with him?” Andrina persisted.

  “Yes, miss!”

  “And where is Miss Sharon?”

  “She is also out, miss.”

  Andrina thought it strange that neither of her sisters had told her what they were going to do before she left the house.

  Lady Evelyn thought it strange too.

  When they were out of earshot of the servants, she said,

  “It is naughty of the girls to behave as if I was not their chaperone and they should have told me where they were going.”

  “Yes, of course, ma’am, but, as the invitations came after we had gone, I suppose that they felt it would be a pity to waste such a lovely afternoon by staying indoors.”

  She went to her bedroom feeling more perturbed than she intended to show in front of Lady Evelyn.

  Having written that letter of farewell, why then had the Marquis defied the Duke and called to see Cheryl?

  She could not understand it.

  Hardly realising what she was doing, she walked from her own bedroom into Cheryl’s and then stood transfixed.

  The place was in a turmoil. There were clothes thrown on the bed and on the chairs, a valise lay open on the floor and the wardrobe door was left open.

  Then she glanced at the dressing table.

  Cheryl’s brushes and combs had gone, but in the centre of the table was an envelope and it was addressed to her.

  Andrina tore it open.

  “Dearest Andrina, I am going away with the Marquis because he needs me. Don’t let the Duke stop us. We will be married in Scotland.

  Love, Cheryl.”

  Andrina read it, gave a little gasp and then hurried downstairs. When she reached the hall she said to the footman on duty,

  “Is His Grace in the house?”

  “No, miss, His Grace went riding.”

  “Have you any idea when he will be back?”

  Even to herself Andrina thought her voice sounded strange and agitated.

  “His Grace did not say, miss – ” the footman began.

  At that moment there was a sound outside
the front door and, when one of the flunkeys opened it, Andrina saw with an inexpressible sense of relief the Duke dismounting from a black stallion.

  He came up the steps looking exceedingly elegant in his polished boots and well-cut whipcord jacket.

  Andrina ran towards him.

  “I must speak to you!” she said in a low voice. “Something terrible has happened!”

  He looked down at the agitated and pale little face turned up to his.

  Then he handed his hat, gloves and riding whip to one of the servants and, taking Andrina by the arm, drew her across the hall into the salon.

  “What has happened?” he asked.

  “Cheryl has run away with the Marquis!”

  As Andrina spoke, she put Cheryl’s note into his hand.

  The Duke read it.

  “Damn it!” he ejaculated angrily. “Glen had no right to do such a thing!”

  “What can we do?” Andrina asked.

  “Stay here!” the Duke ordered.

  He walked from the room closing the door behind him and Andrina could hear the sound of his voice as he spoke to someone in the hall, although she could not make out what he said.

  A few moments later he came back.

  “They have only been gone an hour and, as the Marquis is driving, they will not have got very far. He was always ham-fisted with the ribbons!”

  “We can stop them in time?” Andrina asked, her eyes suddenly alight.

  “We?” the Duke questioned. “Are you coming with me?”

  “Please take me,” she pleaded.

  He looked at her and for the moment she felt that he was not sneering, not being cynical, but understanding exactly what she was feeling.

  “I will take you,” he said. “I have already ordered my phaeton.”

  Chapter Six

  If Andrina had not been so agitated about Cheryl, she thought that she would have much enjoyed driving beside the Duke at a pace that was faster than she had ever been before.

  She was knowledgeable enough about horseflesh to know that he drove his four magnificent chestnuts with remarkable expertise.

  Moreover she was aware that he looked extremely elegant with his high hat set firmly at an angle on his dark hair. His grey whipcord coat fitted him to perfection and his boots shone brilliantly.