They had soon left behind the houses on the outskirts of London and were driving along the road Northwards where there was very little traffic.
Andrina had wisely put on a small bonnet that fitted closely to her head and tied under her chin with ribbons.
As she sat back against the softly cushioned seat with a light rug over her knees, she wished that she was setting out on a happier journey than one that merely meant that she must upset Cheryl by overtaking her.
How, she wondered, could the Marquis have persuaded Cheryl, who was so timid, to run away with him?
It was the last thing she would ever have expected her to do.
Cheryl was usually far too nervous to overstep the conventions or indeed to upset anyone.
‘That,’ Andrina told herself, ‘is the key!’
Cheryl had not wished to be unkind to the Marquis and make him unhappy. He must have played on her feelings, assuring her that they would be married in Scotland and, of course, live happily ever afterwards.
The Marquis, Andrina decided must have banked on the Duke keeping his mouth shut about his previous marriage once he and Cheryl had gone through a form of ceremony.
Andrina was quite prepared to believe that the Arkraes genuinely supposed that their son’s wife was dead and it would in fact put the Duke in a very invidious and uncomfortable position if he were to appear, after Cheryl and the Marquis had been married, to declare that the ceremony null and void.
‘We must catch them,’ Andrina told herself, ‘and prevent their doing anything so reprehensible!’
She wished now that she had told Cheryl the truth, but then she thought it would have been needlessly unkind for anyone, especially Lady Evelyn, who was quite obviously a gossip, to be made aware of the Marquis’s secret.
They drove on and Andrina realised that the Duke was pushing his horses in a manner that she was sure was unusual for him.
Cheryl and the Marquis had an hour’s start and it was imperative that they should overtake them before nightfall.
She could not believe that the Marquis, who seemed so quiet and gentlemanly, would, if they stayed at a Posting inn, make love to Cheryl before the ring, whether it was legitimate or not, was actually on her finger.
But apart from this aspect of the elopement, Cheryl was completely innocent and Andrina knew that she was not really in love with the Marquis.
What her reaction would be to any passionate love making was problematical and Andrina clasped her fingers together nervously as she thought that in all probability Cheryl would be disorientated and distressed.
“Don’t worry,” the Duke said unexpectedly, “we shall catch them up!”
Andrina was surprised that he had sensed her agitation and she flashed him a little smile as she said,
“I am sure they are not travelling as fast as we are.”
“They have only two horses,” the Duke replied, “and I have yet to find a team that can outpace these.”
“They are very fine indeed.”
“I have not seen you on a horse,” he said, “and as it happens I have one in my stable that I think would suit you admirably.”
Andrina’s eyes lit up.
“I love riding, but we have never been able to afford a spirited mount.”
“That is something that must be remedied,” the Duke said.
Andrina did not answer.
There was no time now to think of riding when there were only a few weeks left before they would have to return home.
‘If once I became accustomed to the sort of horses the Duke owns,’ she thought to herself, ‘it would be very hard to go back to riding poor old Dobbin, even though he has carried us all faithfully for nearly ten years!’
She kept her thoughts to herself, although she could not help imagining how exciting it would be to ride beside the Duke in the Park, or better still, in the country, if he ever took them to Broxbourne Park.
The sun was losing its strength when, as they neared Barnet, Andrina saw ahead of them a crowd of people and vehicles on the road.
“What is it?” she asked.
“An accident!” the Duke replied briefly and Andrina felt a sudden tremor of fear as she saw horses plunging in some disorder and a number of people scrambling out of a coach.
A second later she saw the wheel of a travelling phaeton whirling in the air as it lay on its side and, as the Duke began to steady down his team, she saw that a phaeton had come into collision with a stagecoach.
Then with a little cry of horror she saw someone in a blue pelisse being assisted from the overturned phaeton and realised that it was Cheryl.
It was a scene of confusion, accentuated by the plunging and rearing of the horses belonging to the phaeton and the stagecoach, which was lying drunkenly on its side in the ditch, while the passengers were all screaming, crying and shouting at the tops of their voices.
The coachman, who looked as if he had recently imbibed too long and too deeply, was crimson in the face as he hurled abuse at the Marquis, who, looking white and shaken, was striving to get his horses under control.
The luggage of the passengers on the coach was strewn about the road, some of the trunks having burst open.
There must have been a crate of chickens being carried to London that had escaped from their coop and were running about clucking and getting in everybody’s way.
The Duke drew his team to a standstill and as he did so the groom, who was perched behind them, ran to the horses’ heads.
His Grace then stepped down without hurry and lifted Andrina to the ground so that she could run to her sister’s side.
The man who had assisted Cheryl from the upturned phaeton had seated her on the grass and then turned his attention elsewhere.
Cheryl appeared dazed, her bonnet had fallen back to reveal her golden curls in untidy disorder and there was a scratch on her hand that was bleeding.
Andrina put her arms around her.
“Are you all right, dearest?”
“I am – frightened!” Cheryl replied and burst into tears.
Andrina held her closely.
Cheryl’s gown was crumpled and her hand was bleeding, but otherwise she appeared to have suffered no particular damage and Andrina thought that it was only the shock of the accident that was making her cry.
She murmured comforting and soothing noises and found a handkerchief that she could wipe Cheryl’s eyes with.
“I am – frightened!” she kept repeating until Andrina said briskly,
“It’s all right, it is all over now. The Duke and I will take you back. You must try to forget all about it.”
“I am so glad to – see you – Andrina,” Cheryl said childishly.
“And I am glad to see you too, dearest.”
Raising her eyes from Cheryl’s unhappy face, she saw that the Duke was creating order out of chaos.
Under his instructions the male passengers and a number of spectators who had arrived at the scene of the accident were pulling the stagecoach out of the ditch, while the horses had been calmed down and prevented from doing any damage to the shafts or their harnesses.
The voices of the outraged passengers seemed to die away as the Duke with an air of unquestionable authority suggested that they should resume their seats so that their journey could continue.
Finally, as the Marquis seemed too bemused to do anything sensible, the Duke tipped the coachman so as to put him in a good humour.
Almost before it seemed possible, the trunks were stowed back on the roof, the chickens were collected and returned to their coop and the stagecoach set off again towards London.
The same willing spectators righted the phaeton in which the Marquis and Cheryl had been travelling, but it was obvious that one of the wheels was buckled and it could not proceed far without attention.
“You had better take it to Barnet,” the Duke said to the Marquis. “There will be a wheelwright there and doubtless you can hire a post chaise.”
The Marq
uis did not reply.
Instead he looked to where Cheryl was seated on the grass beside Andrina.
“I will take Cheryl back with me,” the Duke said quietly.
The eyes of the two men met and just for one second it seemed as if the Marquis might defy the Duke. Then with his habitual look of indecision his eyes flickered and he replied,
“Perhaps that would be – best.”
“I am sure it is.”
The Duke walked away without saying any more and, getting into his own phaeton, turned the horses with some considerable skill on the narrow road and drew them up beside Andrina and Cheryl.
Cheryl allowed her sister to help her into the Duke’s phaeton without, it seemed, sparing a thought for the unhappy Marquis. He stood watching them depart without however making any effort to approach her.
The phaeton, which had been designed for two people, was fortunately wide enough for three, especially as Andrina and Cheryl were both so slim.
Andrina seated Cheryl between herself and the Duke and put her arms round her sister’s shoulders.
They drove off without anyone speaking and only when they had gone for perhaps a mile did Cheryl say,
“I am – sorry, Andrina!”
“Why did you do it, dearest?”
“He said he would be so – unhappy without me,” Cheryl answered, “and I hate people being – unhappy.”
That was true enough, Andrina thought, and it was a very sweet part of Cheryl’s nature. But she could not help wondering how her sister could go through life without disastrous results, doing everything she was asked to do.
It was difficult, however, to have an intimate conversation as the Duke was driving very fast and there was an evening breeze that seemed to whip the words away from their lips.
Andrina therefore contented herself with holding Cheryl comfortably in her arms and feeling grateful that she had arrived there so soon after the accident.
She wondered whether, if they had not reached them in time, Cheryl would have demanded to be taken home.
She had a feeling that she would have done so and that would have been no less embarrassing to the Marquis than what had happened now.
Anyway it was all very upsetting and Andrina could only hope that Cheryl would not now take a dislike to every man she met and perhaps even refuse to go to the parties.
She had always been absurdly sensitive when anything went wrong and all through her life Andrina could remember Cheryl being depressed and unhappy about the smallest slight or the faintest criticism.
She realised that at the moment her sister was still in a daze and she could not help feeling a little apprehensive about what would happen once they reached Broxbourne House.
There was, however, nothing that she could do but hope that both Lady Evelyn and Sharon would be tactful and she was determined that she would protect Cheryl in every possible way.
It was nearly seven o’clock when they turned into Curzon Street and Andrina wondered whether anyone had had the sense to let the Princess de Lieven know that they would be late for dinner.
It was quite obvious that Cheryl would not wish to go and she wondered how she could explain that she must stay with her sister without making anyone suspicious as to what Cheryl’s indiscretion might have been.
The Duke drew the horses to a standstill and footmen hurried forward to help first Andrina then Cheryl down from the carriage.
They walked up the steps side by side. Then, as they entered the hall, Andrina saw that there was a man standing at the far end of it.
She had only given him a casual glance before Cheryl uttered a loud cry and ran across the marble floor with her arms outstretched.
“Hugo! Hugo!” she exclaimed.
It was Hugo Renton and Andrina was surprised to see him, but before she could even move Cheryl had flung her arms around him saying,
“I am so glad you are here! You said I would not like it and you were right! I want to go home!”
Hugo Renton looked down at her lovely face and his arms went round her.
“That is just what I have come to suggest, my darling,” he answered. “My father is dead and now we can be married!”
“Oh, Hugo! Hugo!”
With a cry of sheer happiness Cheryl put her arms round Hugo’s neck and he was holding her closely to him, quite oblivious of Andrina standing still, unable to move and of the flunkeys staring with undisguised curiosity.
“No! No!” Andrina said almost beneath her breath.
Then, as she would have gone towards her sister, she felt the Duke’s restraining hand on her arm.
He walked towards Cheryl and Hugo Renton and, as he reached their side, Cheryl looked up at him, her blue eyes swimming with tears but with a radiance on her face that made her lovelier than she had ever been before.
“This is Hugo, Your Grace!” she said as if she felt an explanation was necessary.
“So I gather!” the Duke answered. “Shall we go somewhere a little more private where we can discuss his arrival”
“Of course,” Cheryl agreed happily.
She took her arms reluctantly from Hugo Renton’s neck and he looked at the Duke in a somewhat embarrassed manner and then held out his hand.
“I must apologise, Your Grace.”
“It is quite unnecessary,” the Duke replied.
He made a gesture indicating the salon and the footmen opened the doors.
They walked inside, Andrina feeling that there was a great deal she ought to say, but having no idea how to say it.
There was no doubt, she thought, as she walked behind Cheryl and Hugo Renton, who were following the Duke towards the fireplace, that Hugo was a very different sort of man from the Marquis.
He too was quiet and gentle, but he also had a determination and a strength about him that the Marquis had never shown.
Andrina was aware that he had loved Cheryl ever since they were children, but she had never thought that he was good enough for Cheryl as a husband simply because she had always had such ambitious schemes for her two beautiful sisters.
The Rentons were a well known County family who owned a comfortable house surrounded by a small estate, but she had wanted something more than that for Cheryl.
Yet looking at her sister now, her fear and unhappiness swept away as if by magic, it was impossible not to know that it was Hugo she loved, if indeed she was capable of loving anyone very deeply.
“I knew that this was where Cheryl and her sisters were staying, Your Grace,” Hugo Renton was saying, “and since I arrived I have learnt from Sharon that you are their Guardian.”
“That is correct!” the Duke agreed, “and as far as I am concerned, if Cheryl wishes to become your wife, she has both my permission and my blessing!”
Cheryl gave another cry of delight and put her arms around Hugo again.
“I am very grateful to Your Grace,” Hugo Renton said.
Then he looked down at Cheryl’s lovely face and it was obvious that he could think of nothing else.
The Duke turned to Andrina with a twist of his lips.
“I think you and I are slightly de trop at this moment.”
Andrina drew a deep breath.
She wanted to protest, she wanted to say that this was not what she had envisaged or planned for Cheryl, but she knew it was useless.
Cheryl had made her choice. It was obvious from the way she was clinging to Hugo and the happiness in her face that it would be cruel even to suggest that she should look elsewhere.
Philosophically Andrina shrugged her shoulders and, as she acquiesced in the Duke’s suggestion and turned to walk towards the door, she saw a twinkle in his eye.
He knew full well that her ambitions for her sister had been dashed and that she was bitterly disappointed.
‘He is pleased to see me discomfited,’ she told herself.
Because she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing that she was upset, she lifted her chin a little higher and gave him a de
fiant glance as they walked towards the door.
They had almost reached it when it opened and two people came into the room.
It was Sharon already dressed for dinner and looking extremely lovely, accompanied by the Count who appeared more handsome and elegant than usual with an exquisitely tied cravat, a frilled shirt and a coat of dark blue satin.
“You are going to be very late – ” Sharon began.
Then she looked to the other end of the room and saw Hugo and Cheryl with their arms around each other.
“What is – happening?” she began. “Why, it’s Hugo!”
“An old friend,” the Duke remarked laconically. “You must congratulate your sister. She has found, without any effort on our part, the man she wishes to marry!”
“And so have I!” Sharon exclaimed.
Then as Andrina stiffened she realised that she had spoken impetuously and the colour rose in her face.
Her eyes turned towards the Count as he said quickly to the Duke,
“I intended to speak to Your Grace at the first available opportunity.”
There was a smile on the Duke’s lips as he said dryly,
“It seems usual in this family for everyone to make their arrangements first and ask afterwards!”
“Are you saying, Sharon, that you – wish to marry the Count?” Andrina asked in a voice that shook.
Sharon gave her sister a brilliant smile.
“I intend to marry him!” she answered. “Oh, Andrina, I am so happy! Don’t say anything to spoil it!”
She bent forward to kiss her sister as she spoke and there was so much excitement in her voice that Andrina found her protests dying away even before they were spoken.
It would have been as impossible to do anything to dim the radiance in Sharon’s face, as it had been in Cheryl’s case, and now she ran across the room to kiss her younger sister and tell her the news.
“I think this calls for a celebration!” the Duke remarked.
He ordered the butler to bring champagne and then looked at Andrina, who was watching her sisters chattering to each other at the other end of the room while the Count and Hugo were introducing themselves to each other.
“They are both very happy,” the Duke declared quietly.
The Husband Hunters Page 13
