“Quite frankly, Willy, I am beginning to think that she is outstaying her welcome.”
Willy Lygon raised his eyebrows.
He had thought before he left for England that his friend’s affaire de coeur with the beautiful Lady Lillian would eventually end in the permanency of marriage.
He told himself now that it was not surprising that Drogo was bored.
Women clung to him, pressed him too hard and tried to tie him down with every wile in their repertoire.
It was not surprising therefore that his love affairs, if that was the right word for them, never lasted for very long.
Whenever a woman became possessive, Lord Kiniston became restless and then it was only a question of time before there were tears, recriminations, reproaches and accusations, which inevitably left him unmoved.
“I can see that you have your affairs in somewhat of a mess!” Willy said wryly. “I suppose, if the truth was told, Lady Lillian is jealous of Elizabeth Caton and afraid that the Duke may get his way and she will lose you completely.”
“You would think I was the only man in the world!” Lord Kiniston remarked bitterly, which made his friend laugh.
“I have another problem,” he said after a moment, “and one on which you may be able to help me.”
“What is it?”
Lord Kiniston walked across to his desk and picking up a letter, walked back to the fireplace before he said,
“This is from the Solicitors of the late Earl of Langhaven. Do you remember him?”
“Yes, of course, I rather liked him, Drogo. He was a good soldier.”
Lord Kiniston did not reply, but was looking down at the letter.
Then he said,
“I had in fact forgotten about it until his Solicitors wrote to me a year ago on his death, but he left me as the Guardian of his daughter.”
“His daughter!” Willy exclaimed. “You don’t mean to say that you are the Guardian of ‘Aphrodite’?”
Lord Kiniston raised his head.
“Are you referring to Lady Charis Langley?”
“Of course I am,” Willy replied. “She is the most talked about, the most admired young woman in the whole of London. All I can say, Drogo, is that if you are her Guardian, you might have introduced me to her.”
“I have never seen the girl. In fact I had never heard of her except on her father’s death.”
“Then let me tell you about her,” Willy said. “I have seen her only in the distance, but she is really lovely and every man who meets her throws his heart at her feet.”
“How very dramatic!” Lord Kiniston remarked sarcastically.
“She was an instantaneous success when she appeared in London last Season,” Willy went on. “In fact marooned as I was out here, I was sick to death of hearing about her attractions and charm. Then her father died and she was in mourning when I went back on leave this time and found that they were still talking about her! The betting book at White’s is filled with wagers on which of the most notorious fortune-hunters will carry her off as a prize.”
“Fortune-hunters?” Lord Kiniston questioned.
“She is not only beautiful but she is also rich,” Willy said, “and few impoverished young aristocrats can resist such an obvious bait.”
“That explains what is in this letter.”
“Read it to me.”
“As I have said, it is from the Langhaven Solicitors and they say that, since I did not reply to the last letter they wrote to me on the death of their revered client, they have carried on supervising Lady Charis’s affairs to the best of their ability.”
Lord Kiniston raised his eyes and looked at his friend.
“But they are slightly perturbed by the fact that she has asked them to release twenty thousand pounds of her fortune, as she wished to set up a racing stable. They think in the circumstances that they should ask my approval before agreeing to such a very large demand.”
“Twenty thousand!” Willy exclaimed. “I wonder who is taking that off her?”
Lord Kiniston did not speak and after a moment Willy continued,
“It might be Parkington. I know he is ‘below hatches’ and Hexton, as you know, has been complaining for years that his ancestral home is literally tumbling down. Both of them are in the book at White’s.”
“And they are both of them young wasters!” Lord Kiniston said sharply, “Parkington gambles too high and Hexton drinks to excess!”
“Perhaps ‘Aphrodite’ will reform whichever one she chooses,” Willy suggested blithely.
Then he gave an exclamation.
“I have an idea, Drogo!”
“What is it?” Lord Kiniston asked.
“Why do you not invite your Ward to come here? It would be a good idea for you to meet her and with ‘Aphrodite’ in the house the Great Man might think it impossible for even one of The Three Graces to attract your attention.”
Lord Kiniston stared at his friend in surprise.
Then he said,
“Are you really suggesting – ?”
“You are her Guardian,” Willy interrupted, “and I suppose that she cannot marry without your approval unless she is over twenty-one.”
“No, of course not!” Lord Kiniston agreed as if the idea had only just occurred to him.
“By the way,” Willy said, “why on earth should Langhaven have made you the girl’s Guardian in the first place?”
Lord Kiniston smiled and it softened the hard expression on his face.
“It was just after the Armistice when we joined the Regiment. I daresay you have forgotten it, but I took a great deal more ragging than you did because my father had died and the newspapers had reported what I had inherited in such glowing terms that you would have thought I was Croesus!”
“I remember that,” Willy remarked.
“And do you also remember that before we went into our first battle in Portugal, old Schofield, who commanded us in those days, told us all to make our wills. I always thought that it was a ghoulish thing to do, making it clear that he expected some, if not all of us, to be killed.”
“I was not with you when that happened,” Willy said. “I had been sent abroad to reconnoitre the position of the enemy, a mission almost impossible in the dark!”
“I had forgotten that,” Lord Kiniston answered. “Well, what happened was that we did as we were told and sat down to write out our wills and Langley, who had not then come into the title came into the room and said,
“‘I have been told to suggest to you, gentlemen, that you take this seriously and appoint for your children, if you have any, a responsible Guardian, who will look after them if anything should happen to your wife.’
“He spoke seriously, but there was a twinkle in his eye, as most of the Officers were unmarried and the rest had distinguished relatives, who would obviously be conscious of their responsibilities.
“Then, as Langley and I sat down at a table together, he said,
“‘Personally, I can think of no one important or rich enough to take care of my daughter. Do you think the Queen would accept the position?’
“There was laughter at this, then somebody, I have forgotten who it was, said,
‘“Why not appoint Young Kiniston? We all know how rich he is and he is certainly distinguished enough to make an admirable Guardian!’“
“So that is how it happened!” Willy exclaimed.
“I never gave it another thought,” Lord Kiniston went on, “until a year ago, when on Langhaven’s death, his Solicitors wrote to me to say that I was the Guardian of his daughter and I realised that he had never made another will.”
“And you did not reply?”
“No. I was very busy at the time and afterwards it slipped my mind until this letter arrived yesterday.”
“Well, I have told you what to do about it.”
“Of course your idea is ridiculous!” Lord Kiniston exclaimed.
Then he was silent and Willy, watching him, knew that he
was thinking it over.
“At the same time,” he said after a moment, “the Great Man has made it very obvious what he required of me.”
“And Lady Lillian is being difficult,” Willy added.
“I will do as you say!” Lord Kiniston exclaimed suddenly. “Anyway twenty thousand pounds is far too much money for a young woman to throw away on a fortune-hunter! Most of them don’t know a good horse from a bad.”
“You are right there,” Willy agreed. “But, if she is setting up a racing stable with that amount of money, I would not mind participating in it myself!”
Lord Kiniston did not say anything more, he merely sat down at the desk and wrote two letters, the first to the Solicitors to say that he would deal with their query in due course and the second to the Ward he had never seen, Lady Charis Langley.
When he had given the letters to an Orderly to send to England with the despatches that left Wellington’s Headquarters every day for London, Lady Lillian came into the room.
She was an extremely attractive woman and used her looks as a bait to catch any man she fancied.
From the moment she had seen her distant cousin, Lord Kiniston, she had been determined to enslave him, and had only been prevented for some two years from achieving her objective because both her cousin and her husband were fighting in the Peninsula.
Then George Somerset was most conveniently killed and, when she learnt that Drogo Kiniston was in Paris setting up the Army of Occupation with the Duke of Wellington, she had left immediately for the French Capital and for a short time had managed to be a guest in the Duke’s mansion on the Champs Élysées.
After that it was quite easy for her to move with Lord Kiniston to Cambrai and install herself in his château.
By this time he had found her not only useful in various ways, but also extremely attractive as a woman.
In fact in all the many love affairs in which he had indulged whenever he was not on the battlefield, he had never known a woman so passionate and so insatiable.
Looking at her now as she came into the salon, her eyes slanting a little at the comers, which gave her a mysterious look, and her red lips pouting provocatively because she felt that she was being neglected, Willy thought it would be difficult for any woman to look more exotic and seductive.
And yet, knowing Drogo Kiniston as well as he did, he was aware, as Lady Lillian went to his side and reached out her long slender fingers to touch him, that he stiffened as if he resented her intimacy.
“How can you have neglected me for so long, dearest Drogo?” Lady Lillian asked. “I have been waiting for hours for you in the salon, but I was told that you were in conference and thought that you had a number of Officers here.”
“Only Willy,” Lord Kiniston replied.
Rather slowly Willy rose from his armchair as Lady Lillian turned to look at him.
“So you are back!” she said in a somewhat uncompromising voice.
“Yes, I am back, Lady Lillian,” Willy replied, “and, of course, delighted to see you again and looking as usual like a ray of sunshine.”
There was always a sarcastic note in Willy’s voice when he paid her a compliment and Lady Lillian always resented it because she knew that he was mocking her.
She was well aware that he did not like her and, although she tried to put it down merely to jealousy because of his long friendship with Drogo Kiniston, she knew it was something more than that and hated him for it.
“Well, nobody informed me,” she said, “that you were coming back today! I am supposed to be running this house for dear Drogo and it may be inconvenient to put you up.”
“That is quite all right,” Willy replied. “My favourite room has been kept for me and, as I expect you are aware, most of my worldly possessions are still in it.”
Knowing that she could not refuse to accept him, Lady Lillian shrugged her shoulders and, looking up at Lord Kiniston in a way he invariably found irresistible, said,
“Dearest Drogo, when you have time after luncheon, will you take me for a short drive? I seem to have been cooped up in this house for days without a chance of being alone with you.”
As Lord Kiniston had spent most of the previous night with her, this was, of course, untrue.
But she hoped that he would appreciate the way she was keeping their liaison secret from Willy.
“I am afraid this afternoon is impossible,” Lord Kiniston replied. “The Duke required me to be with him at two o’clock, so we must have luncheon early.”
Lady Lillian gave a little cry.
“In which case I must go and give the order, otherwise you might be late and that, as you well know, would be disastrous!”
She reached the door and then turned back to say,
“I suppose he wishes to see you on Army business? It is not just an excuse for you to entertain those Caton girls without my being invited?”
“I am looking forward to seeing The Three Graces again,” Willy remarked, knowing his interest would annoy Lady Lillian.
“You will not have to look far for them,” she said tartly. “They hang around the dear Duke like strands of clinging ivy. Marianne Patterson actually persuaded him to take her to see the field of Waterloo!”
“I am surprised that he agreed to that,” Willy said.
“It was extremely selfish of her,” Lady Lillian replied, “and she confessed afterwards that, had she realised the mental anguish the sight caused him, she would never have proposed such a visit.”
“I should think not,” Willy agreed, “for we all know he hates to talk about it, let alone see it.”
“It was a great mistake,” Lord Kiniston agreed, “and something that must not be repeated.”
“I am sure you, Drogo dear, will see to that.”
Lady Lillian gave him a dazzling smile before she left the room, leaving behind her the fragrance of a French perfume and for a moment there was silence between the two friends.
At length Willy said,
“She is very much the chatelaine of the château. You will have great difficulty in getting her to move elsewhere.”
“I may have to go to Paris myself,” Lord Kiniston remarked.
Again there was a pause. Then, as if he wished to change the subject, he said,
“By the way there is somebody I want you to meet who actually is the owner of this house.”
Willy looked surprised.
“I thought it belonged to the Duc de St. Brière.”
“It does.”
“You know him?”
“He was here a week ago to see the Duke and also to see how I was looking after his château.”
“What is he like?”
“He seems very charming,” Lord Kiniston replied. “He is, of course, one of the Ancien Regime. He loathes Napoleon, whom he refers to as ‘that Corsican upstart’ and says that he is delighted we have beaten him. In consequence he is only too pleased for me to occupy this house, which he told me was comprehensively looted in the Revolution.”
“I should have thought that he was fortunate not to have lost his head!” Willy remarked.
“Apparently he escaped from Paris, finally reaching England to spend a great deal of the War in London and Brighton – ”
“With a large number of other émigrés,” Willy intervened.
“Exactly!” Lord Kiniston agreed. “And I understand that he was useful towards the end of the War when he returned to France in disguise and helped the British against the Napoleonic Army.”
“That was brave of him,” Willy replied, “and I would like to meet him.”
“I have invited him to dinner tonight,” Lord Kiniston said, “and then you can tell me what you think of him.”
“You sound as if you yourself are a little doubtful,” Willy suggested.
“Shall I say I am not absolutely sure,” Lord Kiniston replied, “but Lady Lillian is delighted with him and so are several other women.”
“All Frenchmen have that ‘kiss the hand
and look with eloquent eyes’ technique that English women love,” Willy remarked.
Lord Kiniston laughed.
“You are quite right, Willy, and it is an art that we as a race have no intention of acquiring. Come and have a look at the horses. I have bought a new charger, which will make you envious.”
“Am I ever anything else where you are concerned?” Willy asked. “It’s not only that you are too rich, but you are too knowledgeable, especially where horses and women are concerned!”
Lord Kiniston did not answer, but put his arm through Willy’s and they walked into the hall.
He thought that he would enjoy having his friend back far more if it were not for Lillian pressuring him, and the Duke continually extolling the attractions of Elizabeth Caton.
*
Over the next week it seemed to Lord Kiniston that things were accelerating in an unpleasant manner that he could not control.
The Duke was obviously convinced that there was no one more suitable as a husband for his protégée, Elizabeth.
Because Lady Lillian would have been extremely foolish if she had not realised what was afoot, she clung desperately to her position in her cousin’s life.
She also made it abundantly clear that, after she had given him what women call ‘their all’, he should do the right thing and marry her.
Lord Kiniston found himself fighting against her persistence, which increased day by day.
He spent as much time as he could with the troops and on horseback.
He could not, however, without being extremely rude, refuse the countless dinner parties that were arranged for the Duke of Wellington and at which, as his Second-in-Command, he was expected to be present.
In the meantime the political difficulties arising from the Occupation did not lessen.
France was complaining that it was impossible to feed the one hundred and fifty thousand men of the Army of Occupation and began to press the Duke to send home at least thirty thousand immediately.
The Duke was in a dilemma, which did not make him any easier to be with.
It seemed that only Marianne Patterson could bring a smile to his lips and a tender expression to his rather tired eyes.
As Lord Kiniston was well aware, Marianne had her own axe to grind.
Love Casts Out Fear Page 5
