“Did you write that?”
He shook his head.
“No, I would like to have done so, but actually it was written by a friend of mine called Rudyard Kipling.”
Now, as she finished speaking, the whole audience was absolutely silent.
The Marquis, raised on one arm, was looking at her.
She held out her hand.
“Come,” she said, “and when you come back with your talents and no debts, you will, I know, do far better than you have done this time.”
The Marquis grasped her hand.
As he rose, the light flowed in brilliantly to make her presence seem dazzling.
The orchestra then broke into chords of celestial music, which seemed to carry everyone listening up into the sky.
Then slowly the curtain fell.
For a moment there was only the silence that every actor knows is the greatest tribute an audience can pay him.
Then there were cheers as the audience rose spontaneously to clap and go on clapping.
They were still cheering as the curtain rose and all the performers were standing on the small stage.
Magnificent bouquets were handed to the women and a present from the Marquis was given to all the men.
Only when the Marquis ordered the curtain to fall was the performance really over.
It had not taken very long and yet Angela felt that it was something that a great number of people would remember and think about for a long time.
It was then, still wearing their stage costumes, that they went into the dining room.
Instead of one long table, small ones had been placed around the room and names had been placed on a number of them.
Angela was delighted to find that she was sitting with Trevor and Sadie Vandebilt.
With them as well was a very charming man who had arrived from India only two days before.
‘The one thing I have been thinking about as I came home,” he said to Angela, “was the Marquis’s horses and, when I rode one today in the Steeplechase, I felt as if all my dreams had come true,”
“That is how I felt when he allowed me to ride Saracen,” Angela admitted.
She was aware, as she was talking, that Lord Grentham was looking at her from another table.
He was with one of the Gaiety Girls who had an ardent admirer sitting on her other side.
Angela thought that Lord Grentham was looking frustrated.
She was therefore careful not to look in his direction again in case he came over to speak to her.
After the excitement of the play, everybody seemed to be drinking more than they had the previous night.
The newcomers, who had been in the audience, were as noisy as the rest.
The women, Angela thought, were outrageous.
Two of them, when dinner was ended, wanted to dance on the tables and they were only prevented from doing so only because the Marquis objected.
“I must say,” Sadie Vandebilt remarked, “I was not expecting English people to behave like this!”
“The answer to that is,” Trevor explained, “that this is not the sort of party you would normally be expected to attend.”
“I guessed that,” Sadie replied, “when Cousin Shaun was so astonished to see me and not, I thought, very welcoming.”
“This is a party for his men-friends,” Trevor explained, “and I think he contemplated sending you straight back to London.”
Sadie laughed.
“I would refuse to go. Don’t think I am shocked. I have seen worse things in New York and far worse at home where they usually throw anyone who has had too much to drink into the swimming pool!”
“That is something we don’t have here,” Trevor replied, “and it is far too far to go to the lake.”
Sadie laughed again.
“I would so like to see some of these men struggling to the bank and looking like a lot of half-drowned rats!”
Trevor laughed.
It was then that one of the men rose from the table and, losing his balance, fell to the floor.
The Marquis rose as well, saying,
“I think we should all move to the drawing room now.”
Trevor turned to Angela and suggested,
“Go to bed. Nobody will notice your absence and, if they do, I will make some excuse for you.”
“And what will everybody else be doing?” Angela asked.
“Gambling” her brother replied curtly, “which is what I just cannot afford to do. I intend therefore to suggest to Miss Vandebilt that I take her round the Picture Gallery.”
There was a distinct note in his voice that told Angela it was indeed no imposition but something he wanted to do.
She therefore joined the crowd that was walking out of the dining room.
When they reached the hall, she ran up the stairs.
She was halfway up when Lord Grentham saw her.
“Where are you going, Angela?” he asked.
“To take off my wings,” she replied.
“Shall I come and help you?”
She did not answer him, but hurried to her room.
She locked the door just in case he was impertinent enough to follow her.
She did not ring for the maid and, as she had come up so early, it was unlikely that Emily would be expecting her.
Then she remembered that she had promised to go and see Lady Mary.
She took off her halo and her wings and put on her dressing gown.
As she did so, she glanced at the clock.
They had been so long in the dining room that it was now nearly midnight and she was sure therefore that the child would be fast asleep.
At the same time she felt that she should keep her promise.
Unlocking the door, she peeped out and was relieved to see that the corridor was empty.
She hurried along it and there was no one to see her as she slipped up the stairs to the nursery floor.
She quietly opened the bedroom door, aware, as she did so, that there was a night light burning.
Lady Mary sat up in bed.
“You have come! You have come!” she cried.
“I promised I would,” Angela said, “but I had hoped that you had been a good girl by now and gone to sleep.”
“How could I go to sleep when I was waiting for you?” Lady Mary asked.
Then, as Angela approached the bed, she exclaimed,
“Oh – you have taken off your wings!”
“Like you, I am going to bed,” Angela replied.
Lady Mary held out her arms.
“Please – will you cuddle me and tell me a story?” she begged. “Daddy has not told me a story for ages and ages – and I would like to hear one.”
“I will tell you the story of Cinderella,” Angela suggested.
As she spoke, she thought that it might almost be a story about herself.
Then, because Lady Mary was holding onto her eagerly, she climbed into bed and put her arms round her.
“Once upon a time – ” she began.
*
The Marquis, coming up to bed two hours later, was relieved to be rid of the noise made by his neighbouring guests as they drove away.
They had all assured him, as they got into their carriages, that they had never enjoyed an evening more.
He had noticed that Trevor and his American cousin had disappeared.
He had been very sure when he saw Angela going up the stairs that she would not come down again.
Then he told himself that he wanted more than anything else to say ‘goodnight’ to her and thank her for playing her part so brilliantly.
There was no one else he knew who could have looked so like an angel and spoken like one and she had moved the audience dramatically.
‘She is a very remarkable young lady,’ he mused to himself
He undressed, then opened the door of the boudoir and walked across it.
It struck him that Trevor might be with her in which case he must not intr
ude.
He stood outside the communicating door and listened.
He was sure that there was nobody with Angela.
Quietly he opened the door and looked in.
To his amazement the bed had not been slept in although there was a small candelabrum alight beside it.
It seemed to him incredible that Angela should have broken one of the unwritten laws that a woman never went to a man’s bedroom.
He would always come to hers.
Because he was angry, the Marquis walked back across the boudoir and, going into his bedroom, slammed the door behind him.
Chapter Six
Angela woke up and for a moment could not remember where she was.
Then she felt something soft and warm against her and realised that it was Lady Mary.
They had both fallen asleep while she was telling her the story of Cinderella.
The room was dark and the night-light had guttered away and she thought, although she was not really certain, that it must be about two o’clock in the morning.
Gently she moved Lady Mary’s head from her shoulder and slipped out of bed.
She tucked the child in and then, putting on her dressing gown and slippers, she tiptoed across the room, closing the door behind her.
The corridor outside was totally dark and it took her a long time to grope her way to the staircase.
When she reached the next floor, there were still lights burning and so she could see her way more clearly.
She went to her own room and was just about to take off her dressing gown when she thought that it was rather warm.
So she pulled back the curtains and opened the window wide.
The moonlight turned the garden and the trees to silver and they looked very beautiful.
She leaned out of the window to breathe in the cool air.
It was then that she became aware that there was something strange to the left of her.
She looked towards it and saw to her astonishment a ladder rising from a vehicle up to the second floor.
She was wondering what it could be, when suddenly she saw a man appearing out of a window.
As he was holding onto the ladder, another man placed something small and white on his back.
Angela stared at the bundle.
Then, like a flash of lightning, she knew what was happening.
She moved from the window, pulled open the door leading to the boudoir and ran across it.
She threw open the door of the Marquis’s room.
His curtains were pulled back and she could see clearly that he was asleep in his bed.
She rushed to the bed and shook his shoulder, saying,
“Wake up! Wake up! Mary is being kidnapped and there are ‒ two men taking her down ‒ a ladder!”
The Marquis was instantly alert.
“What are you saying?” he demanded.
“Hurry! Mary is being ‒ kidnapped!” Angela exclaimed breathlessly.
She turned and opened the door leading into the corridor and ran out.
The Marquis jumped out of bed thinking that Angela must be dreaming.
He went to the window and, looking out as Angela had done, saw his fire engine, which was a new and up to date acquisition.
Its ladder was resting against the sill of the nursery window and there was a man halfway down and he was carrying something on his back as a fireman would have done.
As the Marquis looked out, he could see a carriage drawn by two horses standing beside the fire engine.
A man held them while another waited to take the child he was carrying from the man on the ladder.
Even as he stared, the man on the ground took Lady Mary from him and put her inside the carriage.
The Marquis looked up again and saw that a fourth man was coming down the ladder.
Then he saw Angela come running from the house.
Before the men realised what was happening, she had jumped into the carriage.
A moment later, as the fourth man reached it, the horses were already moving.
The man standing by the open door just had time to throw himself inside.
As it moved down the drive, he swung the door to.
The Marquis hurried to his wardrobe, threw on some trousers and then went to his chest of drawers for a shirt.
He then took a revolver from a drawer and, dragging a coat from its hanger, he hurried across the corridor.
As he did so, he was deciding which of his friends would be sleeping alone.
He opened the bedroom door of the one who was the nearest.
Just as Angela had done, he shook his friend by the shoulder, saying,
“Wake up, Harry! My daughter has been kidnapped! Meet me in the hall as quickly as you can.”
He repeated the same words twice more before he ran down the stairs.
As he did so, the night footman, who was sitting in his padded chair near the front door, rose to his feet.
“Run to the stables,” the Marquis ordered, “and tell the grooms on night duty to saddle four of my fastest horses as quickly as they can!”
He did not wait for the surprised boy to reply, but hastened to the gun room.
It was a room that the Marquis’s men-friends always admired. There were shotguns of every description, some very old duelling pistols and several blunderbusses.
There was also a cannon that had been captured by one of the Vauxhall ancestors at the Battle of Waterloo.
The Marquis pulled open a drawer where there were a number of revolvers stored.
He drew out three, two of which were up to date and one a little older.
He loaded them and carried them into the hall.
Two of his friends had just reached the bottom of the stairs.
The third was not far behind and, as he handed out the revolvers, Harry asked,
“What has happened? How do you know she has been kidnapped?”
“I will tell you about it later,” the Marquis said. “There is no time now. We have to try to intercept the carriage before it can reach the main road.”
All four men ran as rapidly as they could to the stables.
Two of the horses were already saddled and the grooms had very nearly finished with the other two.
It was only a few minutes before the Marquis and his friends were riding down the drive.
“Those devils cannot go fast down these lanes,” the Marquis said grimly. “Follow me we will go cross-country.”
He then set off as quickly as Saracen could carry him.
They jumped a number of hedges and made very good speed, keeping to the flat land and where the fields had not been cultivated.
They must have ridden for nearly two miles before the Marquis saw what he thought was the top of a carriage.
It was moving pretty slowly along a twisting narrow lane with plenty of potholes.
He pointed it out to his friends without speaking and then set off at a gallop to get ahead of the carriage.
All four swept over a high hedge and landed safely in the lane.
The carriage came round a sharp corner.
It took the driver a second or two to realise that two men on horseback were blocking the road and the others were standing on the verge behind them.
He drew in his horses and, as he did so, the Marquis could see that there were two other men beside him.
As he looked, the man on the outside put his hand inside his coat.
He had only half-pulled his revolver out when Harry shot him in the arm.
He gave a shrill scream of pain and fell into a ditch full of water.
*
When Angela had jumped into the carriage, she had found, as she expected, that Mary was gagged and her body was encircled by a rope.
She untied the gag and then Mary burst into tears.
“I’m frightened! I’m so frightened!” she sobbed.
“Of course you are, darling,” Angela answered, “but I am here and I am sure very soon your father will
come and rescue you.”
As she spoke, the carriage started to move.
The fourth man, who had been beside the door, jumped inside.
“Now then, what be you a-doin’ ’ere?” he asked Angela.
“I might ask you the same question,” she said, “but instead, I will ask you to please untie the rope ‒ round this child’s ankles. It is far too tight ‒ for her.”
“And ’ave ’er ‘runnin’ away?” the man asked who had sat down on the seat opposite them. “I ain’t doin’ nothin’ like that.”
The coach was swaying from side to side.
“How could we possibly run away?” Angela asked scornfully. “Why are we going so fast? Even if we tried, we would not go very far in our nightgowns.”
As if the man thought what she had said was funny, he laughed.
“Got an answer for everythin’, ’aven’t you?” he answered. “Well, I suppose it’ll do no ’arm to take the rope orf, but any trouble and you’ll wish you’d never bin born!”
Angela did not answer.
She watched as he undid the rope that was tied tightly round Mary’s ankles and Angela eased it over her arms until they were free.
Mary could then hold on to Angela and hide her face against her shoulder.
Angela stroked her hair.
“Now, you have to be brave, as your father would want you to be,” she urged “and, of course, the little girls in the stories I am going to tell you were always very brave and clever.”
Mary looked up at her, her face wet with tears.
“You will tell me a story?”
“I will tell you lots of stories and this will be an exciting one for you to tell when you get older.”
“Those men came in,” Mary cried indignantly. “They put a handkerchief over my mouth and picked me up out of bed.”
“I know,” Angela said soothingly, “and it was very bad and wicked of them. When your Daddy finds out what they have done, they will be very sorry.”
“That’s what you fink!” the man opposite them said. “But we wants a great deal of money for this ’ere child ’fore we sends ’er back.”
“I think it is very cruel of you to frighten anyone so small,” Angela said, “but I have to admit it was clever of you to climb up to the window with that long ladder.”
The man smirked.
“I ’eard as ’ow ’is Nibs paid a pretty penny for that fire engine and it served our purpose right enough.”
The Angel and the Rake Page 10
