The Keys of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “I will make sure you suffer for this,” he grunted through gritted teeth.

  Then he turned and was gone the way he had come.

  Henrietta felt faint.

  She had never in her life encountered such hostility, nor endured such a threatening volte-face of behaviour.

  She was afraid he had cursed her and she wished to get as far away from him and his kind as possible.

  She had had enough of this long line of importunate deceivers.

  When she heard the sound of her father’s voice in the hall, she groped her way thankfully to the door of the drawing room.

  “Papa!”

  Lord Radford turned and started at the sight of his daughter, wide-eyed and trembling.

  “Henrietta! What on earth is the matter, my dear?”

  She took several unsteady steps towards her father before collapsing with a sob into his arms.

  “I want to go home, Papa. Not in a few months or a few weeks, but tomorrow. Please, Papa, please. I mean it with all my heart. I want to go home!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Henrietta and her father stood at the railings on the first class deck of The Boston Queen.

  Nanny was below, ensuring their trunks containing Henrietta’s wardrobe were delivered to the right cabin.

  Lord Radford had booked her passage on a ship that sailed only two days after the incident with Prince Vasily.

  Henrietta felt no sadness as she gazed at the Boston skyline. It was not her home and she had few friends.

  “Well, the cabins are fancy enough,” came Nanny’s voice. “No better than they should be for a Radford!”

  Henrietta’s father turned with a quick frown.

  “You are forgetting yourself, Nanny. Remember, that for the purposes of this voyage, she is not Henrietta Radford. She is Miss Harrietta Reed.”

  Nanny looked crestfallen.

  “Oh, dearie me, my poor old head.”

  He had decided that it would be best for Henrietta to travel incognito on the ship in order to avoid the kind of attentions that were driving her out of Boston.

  He also wished to spare her the embarrassment of being met at Liverpool by various gentlemen of the press.

  The story of the English Lord who had struck oil in America had already been reported in The Times and any reporter worth his salt would consider it quite a scoop to interview Henrietta on her arrival home.

  Lord Radford could not leave his business as yet, as he was still training up a manager to take his place.

  He would follow Henrietta as soon as he could.

  “I hope you remember that your name is now Miss Reed,” he was saying to Henrietta. “That is the name you are booked under, after all.”

  “I’ll remember,” she answered. “And I’ll certainly remember that Nanny is now Mrs.Poody!”

  It was decided as well that Nanny should travel as a companion to Miss Reed to further protect her identity.

  Nanny gave a cross little shake of her shoulders at being Mrs. Poody. She would have liked something a little more dignified than a childish nickname.

  However, she could not be annoyed for more than a second with her beloved charge.

  Lord Radford took out his watch.

  “Almost time,” he intoned with a sad glance at his daughter.

  The long queue of passengers tripping up the three gangways for First Class, Second Class and Steerage had by now slowed down to a trickle.

  It was therefore easy to see the sudden last minute flurry of figures that spilled out of the departure building and hurried towards the ship.

  Henrietta watched as they scrambled up the Second Class gangway. They were in black overcoats and carried leather containers of various shapes and sizes.

  “It must be the ship’s orchestra,” commented Lord Radford, following his daughter’s gaze. “And those are their instruments.”

  “An orchestra!” murmured Henrietta. “What fun!”

  One member of the orchestra had lingered behind on the quayside. He seemed to be waiting for someone, as he had his back to the ship and was eagerly scanning the departure building.

  The ship’s horn blew a long and mournful sound.

  “I must disembark,” said Lord Radford softly.

  Henrietta threw herself into her father’s arms.

  “Goodbye, dearest Papa, I shall miss you so. But you will follow soon, won’t you?”

  “As soon as I can, my darling,” he promised.

  He winked at Nanny.

  “You’ll keep a close eye on my treasure, won’t you, Mrs. Poody?”

  Nanny suppressed a giggle.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t let her out of my sight!”

  Henrietta and Nanny waved as he walked down the gangway. He turned on the quay and stood there, waiting.

  The ship’s horn blew again.

  The lone member of the orchestra on the quayside looked again at his watch as a sailor called down to him that they were about to raise the gangway.

  Shaking his head, he pocketed his watch and began to climb, not the Second Class gangway, as the rest of the orchestra had done, but the First Class, his face wearing a worried frown.

  Henrietta regarded him for a moment with interest before turning her gaze back to her father.

  Lord Radford watched The Boston Queen weigh its anchor and steam slowly away.

  He took off his hat and waved it until neither he nor the quayside were visible any more.

  Henrietta stayed a long while at the railing, staring out over the petrel grey sea.

  America was receding into the distance. For all its attractions, she had not found love there.

  Would she find love in England, she wondered.

  A chill sea breeze began to blow, but that did not drive Henrietta away from the rail.

  It was only when the shoreline had disappeared that she turned and went in search of her cabin.

  She walked along the deck and hesitated. Had she missed the entrance to the ship’s interior?

  There was nothing before her here but a small white gate with ‘Crew Only’ written on it.

  She glanced back.

  The gentleman she had seen waiting anxiously on the quayside was coming along the deck towards her.

  “Excuse me, sir, but is that the entrance to the First Class section over there?” asked Henrietta as he drew near.

  He turned lively brown eyes upon her.

  “Why, sure. But you are nearer to the starboard entrance now.”

  “I am?” answered Henrietta dubiously, not certain of what ‘starboard’ entailed.

  “Yeah. Follow me.”

  He opened the white gate in front of them and stood aside for Henrietta to pass.

  “But that says ‘Crew Only’,” remarked Henrietta.

  The gentleman shrugged.

  “So? Pretend I’m a sailor and put the blame on me. You can go round the back here and cross to the First Class deck. I have to go down to Second Class to see my troop.”

  “Your troop?”

  “I’m the leader of the orchestra. You could have seen ’em boarding.”

  “Oh. Oh, yes. I did.”

  He smiled and held out his hand.

  “Eddie Bragg’s the name.”

  Henrietta, hesitatingly, took his hand and shook it.

  “I’m Hen Harrietta Reed,” she told him shyly.

  “Glad to meet you, Miss Reed.”

  He gestured to the open gate.

  “So you coming?”

  Henrietta glanced along the deck and then passed cautiously through the white gate.

  “See now, you haven’t been struck by lightening,” laughed Eddie.

  “N-no,” smiled Henrietta. “I haven’t.”

  The breeze was stronger here and she had to clamp her hand to her hat to prevent it being torn from her head.

  “Just follow the deck round,” Eddie advised loudly. “You’ll find a white gate and you’re back in First Class.”

  “Thank yo
u very much.”

  They shook hands again and Eddie moved away.

  She watched him as he descended a twisting steel stairway, his coat flying out in the wind.

  A few seconds later she noticed a flat leather folder lying at her feet.

  Eddie must have been carrying it under his coat. It had probably dropped when they had shaken hands.

  She picked it up quickly and followed Eddie down and found that she was now on the Second Class deck.

  There was no sign of Eddie, so she moved along the deck, peering in through several glass doorways, unsure of where to find him.

  She came to another white gate.

  Once again it said ‘Crew Only’, but knowing Eddie Bragg, this would be no deterrent. She paused, opened it, and stepped through to see if he might have gone that way.

  She was now looking down into what seemed to be a cargo deck at the back of the ship.

  There was no cargo, but there were a large number of people. Shabbily dressed, pale and thin, they huddled together or paced the enclosed deck for warmth.

  With a shock, she realised that she was looking at the Steerage section where the poorest people travelled.

  Someone began to play a mouth organ.

  A gentleman shrouded in a full cloak of a material a good deal more expensive than his fellow passengers were wearing, turned away with a shrug of disgust and strode to a door at the back of the deck.

  As he turned, Henrietta caught sight of a thin nose, thin as the blade of a knife

  The profile so resembled that of Prince Vasily of Rumania that Henrietta’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “Miss Reed? Are you all right?”

  It was Eddie, standing at her elbow and regarding her with concern.

  “I-I’m fine. Thank you. It’s just that I thought I recognised someone I knew.”

  She peered over the rail again, but the gentleman in the cloak had gone.

  “Someone you knew? In Steerage?”

  He sounded so surprised that she shook herself and gave a gay little laugh.

  “You are right the person I knew would never ”

  Eddie’s eyes twinkled.

  “A he, eh?”

  Henrietta grew flustered. Mr. Bragg’s manner was more informal than she was used to from a stranger and she should by rights have been offended.

  But his face was so open, his demeanour so good humoured and thoughtful, that she did not think it right to correct him.

  The world of The Boston Queen was so unlike any world she had ever known and besides, Eddie was an artist. He was different. And, of course, he had no idea that she was the daughter of a Lord!

  “Mr. Bragg. I believe you dropped this whilst we were talking.”

  “Eddie, please, not Mr. Bragg. And yes, that’s my music folder. Thank Heavens! I was looking for it. My latest composition could have been lost had I not found it.”

  Henrietta’s eyes widened.

  “You are a composer?”

  “Yes, but alas, fair lady, I am far better known as a conductor!”

  She turned and began to make her way back along the Second Class deck with Eddie at her heels.

  “I cannot let you go without a promise that you’ll take a cocktail with me,” he insisted breezily.

  “I have never drunk a cocktail in my life,” replied Henrietta truthfully.

  She began to climb up the stairs and again, Eddie followed her.

  She hurried to the white gate that led through to the First Class area, but Eddie darted ahead and reached it first.

  “Well then,” he puffed, opening the gate, “I’ll just have to dedicate a number for you when we play at dinner tomorrow night.”

  Then his face darkened.

  “If we play ”

  Henrietta was about to ask what he meant by this qualification when she caught sight of two ladies, one of whom was staring disapprovingly her way.

  The elder of the two was tall and stout with a long imperious nose and a haughty expression. She was swathed in furs and a purple hat that the wind tugged at viciously.

  The other one was younger, perhaps not much older than Henrietta. She was also tall, but thin as a post, with tiny boot black eyes and a nervous grimace on her face.

  “I wonder how it is that the gate is not locked,” said the haughty woman. “It is simply wrong that Second Class passengers should come up here without a by or leave!”

  “Yes, Lady Butterclere, it is indeed,” sniffed her thin companion.

  Eddie seemed amused.

  “If it's any of your business, Lady B-B whatever, we’re First Class passengers who decided to see how the other half lives!”

  “How the other half lives?”

  Lady Butterclere’s voice rose to a shrill crescendo that was in direct competition with the wind.

  “I have no idea why anyone should wish to do such a ridiculous thing. But if you are First Class, I wonder that any young lady should be without a chaperone. Unless you are her chaperone a relation, perhaps?”

  “Her chaperone?”

  Eddie threw back his head and roared with laughter.

  “I’m no chaperone, Lady Buttery. I’m a composer and conductor of the Eddie Bragg Orchestra.”

  Lady Butterclere’s lip curled with distaste.

  “An artiste.”

  She drew her furs closer about her as if in danger of being contaminated.

  “I might have guessed.”

  With that, she swept away, crooking her finger at her companion to follow.

  “Well,” observed Eddie chuckling, “if that doesn’t beat all! She must think she’s become The Boston Queen incarnate!”

  “Oh, Eddie!” expostulated Henrietta, trying so hard not to join his burst of laughter.

  Eddie stared, ruminating, after the two ladies.

  “You know, I’m sure I’ve seen that skinny Lizzie who was with her before.”

  “Skinny Lizzie?” repeated Henrietta, puzzled.

  “That’s what we call a girl who aw, never mind. Say, now I’ve got my music folder back, I’d better get on down to check that the fellows have settled in. So good to meet you, Miss Reed.”

  “Good to meet you, Eddie,” murmured Henrietta to his already retreating back.

  She had never met anyone quite like Eddie Bragg.

  This time she made her way without any difficulty all the way to her cabin.

  Nanny had unpacked the trunk and hung everything up and now suggested that she take a nap before supper.

  Lord Radford had arranged for the cabin to be filled with roses and their scent filled the air.

  As Henrietta lay dreamily in her bunk, the image of the gardens at Lushwood floated before her.

  It was to be longer before she saw them again than she could ever have imagined.

  *

  Nanny woke her excitedly.

  “The dinner gong has sounded,” she cried. “And we are invited to dine at the Captain’s table!”

  “We are?”

  “A Steward brought the invitation on a tray. It said ‘Miss Reed and Mrs. Poody are hereby requested to dine at the Captain’s table this evening ’ or something like that.”

  Henrietta slipped her feet over the side of her bunk.

  “I wonder why we’ve been invited, when as far as the Captain knows we are not important or interesting.”

  “Well, I just don’t know to be sure,” replied Nanny, “but I have accepted the invitation on your behalf.”

  “That’s all right, Nanny. It will be an adventure.”

  Henrietta remembered that on the voyage out, she and her father had been invited to the Captain’s table, but not Nanny. Now, as the chaperone, ‘Mrs. Poody,’ she was to be included and Henrietta understood her delight.

  “There’s a grey silk gown that will be just perfect for you tonight, Nanny, and you can borrow my pearls.”

  She was going to enjoy it all as much as Nanny!

  *

  Heads turned as she entered the dining room
.

  Tendrils of blonde hair fell over her high pale brow and about her slender swan-like neck.

  Her eyes gleamed like huge emeralds and were full of life as she surveyed the scene before her.

  ‘Why,’ she mused in surprise, ‘there’s Eddie Bragg at the Captain’s table!’

  Eddie rose with the Captain as they approached.

  “You are most welcome, ladies,” boomed out the Captain jovially.

  They sat down and the Captain was soon chatting to Mrs. Poody, while Eddie leaned across to Henrietta.

  “I guess you’re wondering why my troop are all in Second Class while I’m in First?” he whispered.

  Henrietta nodded, as she sipped a glass of water.

  “Well,” explained Eddie, with obvious enjoyment, “the Captain just happens to be my cousin. He’s allowed the orchestra to travel at a reduced rate, but being a family member means I travel free, so naturally, I choose the best! The troop are a decent bunch they don’t mind if I sleep in a feather bed now and then!”

  “I see, but that doesn’t explain why ”

  “Why you and the chaperone are here?” he finished for her. “Well, I arranged the invitation. Walter Captain Hanket, that is to say, is always happy to have a few pretty ladies at his table.”

  Henrietta blushed and then glanced at two laid but empty places at the table.

  Eddie followed her gaze.

  “Ah, you’re wondering what other pretty ladies are to join us! Well, if you could see those place cards from where you’re sitting you’d realise what perfect specimens of beauty are scheduled to shine at us over the stew Miss Romany Foss and Lady Maud Butterclere!”

  Henrietta blenched.

  “Oh, my goodness. You you arranged for them to be invited too?”

  Eddie chuckled.

  “Heaven’s, no. That was the Captain’s doing. But don’t worry they sent word that they cannot attend.”

  “They’re not coming?” she asked in palpable relief.

  “No,” replied Eddie with unmistakable glee. “Poor Miss Foss has motion sickness and Lady Butterclere can’t leave her side, so it leaves me with only one exquisite face to gaze on instead of three!”

  He winked at Henrietta.

  She lowered her eyes for she really did not know what to make of Eddie. She was never certain if he was genuinely complimenting her or merely teasing her.

  Most of the time, he seemed to treat her as an equal, almost as one of his troop.