06.The Penniless Peer (The Eternal Collection)

by Cartland, Barbara

  Now she .wished she had done just that, because Lord Corbury had left the Royal Pavilion early and although she had expected him to call on her the next morning, he had not appeared at Lord Farquhar’s house then or later in the day.

  ‘Could he really be put off so easily?’ Fenella asked herself. ‘If so, he cannot really — love me.’

  Her love for him was like a continual ache in her heart.

  However gay she might appear, however much of a success she might have been these last three weeks, she had gone to bed every night thinking of Periquine, longing for him and knowing that the emotions he evoked in her were so deep, so overwhelming, that every day the hurt of them grew worse.

  ‘I love him — I love him —’ she whispered into her pillow.

  When the dawn broke, she would wish only that she could be back at the Priory in her old gowns tidying Periquine’s room, ironing his cravats, and slaving after him as she had done ever since they had been children together.

  At the same time her success in the Fashionable World had given her a sense of self-confidence that she had never had before and a pride which made her realise that Periquine’s love must be as deep as her own or they would never know true happiness.

  She had listened to him eulogising about Hetty. Was it possible that he would ever feel the same about her?

  It was a question that remained unanswered in her mind all day.

  When the hours passed so slowly that each one seemed like a century and there was still no sign of Periquine, she knew a darkness and despair which encompassed her like a thick fog.

  “He loves you,” Lord Farquhar had said consolingly just before Fenella went up to change for dinner.

  “Then he has a — strange way of — showing it,” she sighed.

  “Perhaps he will turn up at the Ball tonight,” Lord Farquhar suggested.

  “I hope — so,” Fenella murmured miserably.

  Her maid wished her to lie down, but she felt so depressed that she knew it would be worse lying in the darkness thinking about Periquine than being able to move about.

  The hair-dresser came early to do her hair as he had a large number of other ladies to attend to in succession, and when he had gone Fenella put on her new gown. She thought as she did so it was far the most becoming of all those Lord Farquhar had bought for her.

  There was a string of pearls to fasten round her neck and there was also a diamond brooch to wear in front of her décolletage.

  She looked at it in the glass and wanted only that Periquine should see her.

  Once when she had worn his mother’s green gown, he had told her that it made her skin look white. The pearls and tiny diamonds which ornamented the lace on the bodice, gave her skin a kind of translucence which few other girls had.

  It was due, she knew, to her red hair, and she wanted Periquine to realise that now at last she was not so afraid of the contrast between herself and Hetty.

  Why did he not come and see her?

  She had asked herself this question a thousand times during the day and now she went to the window to see the sun sinking low in the sky and wondered if the night would bring an eclipse of all her hopes and desires.

  There was a knock on her bed-room door.

  “The carriage is here, Miss, and His Lordship says as the horses are fresh will you come down immediately.”

  “So early!” Fenella exclaimed.

  Nevertheless she picked up her wrap of satin edged with swansdown and followed the footman down the stairs.

  It was unlike her uncle, she thought, to wish to arrive early at the dinner party they were attending before the dance.

  Then she remembered that the Dowager Marchioness’s house was not in Brighton, but a little way outside. It would be impolite to be late and she was certain Lord Farquhar, who was punctilious over such matters, would have timed their arrival to a nicety.

  The footman was moving swiftly ahead of her, almost too swiftly for decorum, and Fenella remembered that he was a new recruit to the staff. The old Butler, who had been with Lord Farquhar for some years, had already made several complaints about him suspecting he took tips from important guests.

  There was no-one in the hall which again surprised Fenella because there was always a Butler and two footmen in attendance to see His Lordship into his carriage.

  The footman pulled open the door and outside Fenella saw not the large formal carriage which her uncle usually used in the evening with his coat-of-arms emblazoned on the door, but a very smart d’Orsay Curricle, a new vehicle which had recently come into fashion and which Fenella knew was noted for its speed.

  The hood was up and although her uncle often tooled his own horses, she was surprised he should do so at night.

  Then she thought that the Dowager Marchioness’s house must be further from Brighton than she had first imagined.

  The groom was holding open the door of the Curricle and he helped her up the step. As she bent her head to move under the hood into the seat beside the driver, Fenella exclaimed,

  “I have never been with you in a d’Orsay Curricle before. Uncle Roderick, in fact I did not know you had one.”

  She sat down as she spoke, and with rather a bump as the horses sprang forward. Then she looked at the driver whom she supposed to be her Uncle and saw it was Lord Corbury.

  “Periquine!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here and where are you taking me?”

  She was aware even as she spoke that behind the hood and obscured from sight the groom had swung himself into an upright seat.

  But to all intents and purposes she was alone with Lord Corbury and she looked at him a little apprehensively wondering what this action on his part could possibly mean.

  Then with a little sinking of her heart she saw that his chin was squared and his mouth set in a hard line.

  She knew him too well not to recognise the signs if not of rage, certainly of some irritation that invariably preluded an uncomfortable argument or perhaps a row.

  She drew in her breath and as she did so she realised that the horses were moving unusually fast.

  Then as they turned off the Marine Parade, she was aware that Periquine was driving at a breath-taking speed which could in fact be dangerous.

  The horses were certainly fresh and although there were only a pair of them, the Curricle was very light and soon its wheels hardly seemed to touch the ground, they were moving so swiftly.

  “What is happening? Please explain, Periquine! Did you arrange with Uncle Roderick to take me to the Ball? He did not tell me you intended to do so.”

  “I have nothing to say to you until we reach our destination,” Lord Corbury replied.

  His voice sounded hard and harsh and Fenella looked at him in perplexity.

  ‘How handsome he is,’ she thought.

  She felt her heart turn over in her breast because she was close to him and because her love for him made her feel curiously weak.

  In fact she could not think clearly as to what was happening or why Periquine was behaving in this unaccountable manner.

  They drove on and on and she knew that Periquine was forcing an almost abnormal speed out of his horses.

  She recognised the road, which she had driven over often enough, and now she was certain they were long past the house where the Ball was to take place and were on their way towards the Priory.

  ‘Why,’ she asked herself, ‘why was Periquine taking her away from Brighton, and what had he to say to her that he could not have said in her uncle’s house or anywhere else that they might have met?’

  She was however too afraid of the grim determination on his face and the tightness of his lips to venture any more questions.

  Besides it was quite hard at the pace they were travelling to keep her balance and she was concentrating on holding onto the side of the carriage so as to prevent herself from being thrown against him.

  They could have only driven for perhaps twenty minutes when the journey usually took thirty-fi
ve or forty, when she saw ahead of them the gates leading into the Priory.

  ‘So I was right,’ she thought to herself, ‘that is where Periquine is taking me.’

  She could not help feeling a little glow of happiness at the thought that whatever he might have to say he wanted them to be together in his home.

  Then to her complete astonishment they passed the Priory, and even as Fenella looked round with enquiry in her eyes, Periquine turned his horses off the road and onto a cart track which led into the woods.

  He was forced to slow his pace as dusk was falling and it was not so easy to see the way. But to Fenella it was as familiar as every path in her own garden.

  She opened her lips to exclaim and to question Periquine once again as to what he was doing.

  Then before she could speak she saw ahead of them the little Church-in-the-Woods and Periquine drew his horses to a standstill outside the door.

  She turned then to ask the question trembling on her lips, but he avoided her glance and getting out of the Curricle walked round to assist her to alight.

  The groom was already at the horses’ heads and a gesture from Lord Corbury made him take them a little further on, so that he was out of earshot.

  “What are we here for?” Fenella asked at last.

  Her voice was tremulous, partly from the speed at which they had travelled and the shaking she had received in the process.

  “I have brought you here to marry you,” Lord Corbury replied.

  “To — marry me! “ Fenella exclaimed.

  “You are mine!” he replied. “You have always been mine, and if you think I am going to allow you to marry anyone else, you are very much mistaken! You will agree to marry me here, now at this moment, Fenella, or I will make you.”

  She felt her heart leap, but because she was curious she could not help asking,

  “How — will you — make me?”

  There was still a darkness in Periquine’s eyes as he looked down into her face.

  “It will not be difficult,” he said slowly. “You are very small and I have always been able to compel you to do anything I wished, but alternatively I could take you into the woods and ravish you. Then you would feel obliged to marry me.”

  “Periquine !” Fenella gasped, “are you really saying such things to me?”

  “I do not intend to argue with you, Fenella,” he said. “Will you marry me willingly or do I have to make you obey me?”

  Fenella’s heart was beating frantically. At the same time she felt a wild elation sweeping over her, and in a voice which trembled, but not entirely from fear, she said softly,

  “I will — marry you, Periquine.”

  He offered her his arm in a manner which she felt was half ironic and then as she put her fingers on it, he led her through the, open door of the Church and into the aisle.

  It was very dim inside, for the trees excluded the daylight, but the candles were lit on the Altar and standing waiting for them was the old Rector.

  Their footsteps seemed to ring out on the stone floor as they walked towards him, and Fenella remembered how hiding in the Crypt they had listened to the soldiers stamping over-head.

  Then as she recalled Periquine’s kiss and the ecstasy she had known before she had become unconscious, she felt herself thrill again with an incredible rapture which made her involuntarily tighten her fingers on his arm.

  They had reached the old Rector, and as he smiled at them Fenella knew nothing would give him more pleasure than to marry two people he had loved since they were children.

  The marriage service began, and as Fenella listened to the beautiful words that were joining her to the man she had loved so deeply ever since she could remember, she was conscious of the soft scufflings of small animals behind them, the flutter of wings in the rafters.

  She felt as if she was encompassed about with a crowd of tiny witnesses who were a part not only of the woods but of the Priory itself.

  Lord Corbury drew a ring from the pocket of his waistcoat and when the Rector had blessed it he put it on to Fenella’s finger saying,

  “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”

  His voice was very deep and sincere.

  Fenella felt as if her cup of happiness was filled to the brim and flowing over, because now at last she was what she had always wanted to be - Periquine’s wife!

  They knelt. The old Rector blessed them and they walked together down the aisle.

  Without a word Periquine handed Fenella into the Curricle climbed in on the other side and picked up the reins.

  They drove off, Fenella acutely conscious of the ring on her third finger and the Rector’s words when he had joined them together as man and wife echoing in her ears.

  It was a very short distance to the Priory and Lord Corbury drew his horses up outside the front door which was open.

  Again he helped Fenella to alight and as they walked up the steps and into the hall she saw all the candles were lit but there was no-one about.

  She stood irresolute looking up at him as he placed his hat and gloves on a table and came slowly towards her.

  “There is food and drink waiting for us in the Dining Room,” he said and she thought his voice sounded entirely impersonal. “I told the servants to go to bed as we had no need of them tonight.”

  Then he looked down into Fenella’s worried eyes and suddenly the expression on his face changed.

  “You are mine, Fenella !” he said, “mine, and my wife as I always meant you to be! Oh my darling, my wonderful little love, how could you think of anyone else, how could you try and leave me when I need you so?”

  He pulled her roughly into his arms and held her crushingly against him. As instinctively she lifted her face to his he cried,

  “Mine! Mine! Mine!” and his voice seemed to ring out round the panelled walls.

  Then his lips were on hers and Fenella felt the rapture that she had known once before shoot through her body like a meteor.

  It made her feel that Periquine swept her away into a golden world where they were alone - and everything else was forgotten.

  His arms tightened, his lips became more possessive, more passionate until she felt as if he drew her very heart from her body.

  She was unable to move, unable to think! She could only feel a wonder and a glory such as she had never known existed.

  Then with his lips on hers Periquine lifted her in his arms and carried her up the stairs.

  The candles which Mrs. Buckle had left alight on one side of the bed gave as they guttered low very little light through the heavy embroidered curtains of the big four poster bed.

  There was a small fire in the grate because even in the summer, unless the house was regularly occupied, it could strike cold.

  Fenella stirred against Periquine’s shoulder and said softly,

  “What can Uncle Roderick have thought when he found I had disappeared?”

  “I have no idea,” Periquine replied, “and quite frankly it does not particularly interest me. What is important is - have I made you happy?”

  “So — very — happy,” Fenella whispered.

  “And you love me?”

  “You know — I — do! “

  “Tell me - I want to hear you say it.”

  It was a command.

  “I — love — you.”

  “My precious - my adorable little wife!”

  His hands were touching her and she quivered and thrilled until her breath came quickly between her lips. Perequine gave a little laugh and pulled her even closer against him.

  “I did not know that a woman could be so soft, so sweet, so utterly and completely enchanting,” he said gently.

  Fenella buried her face in his shoulder. When he spoke to her in such a manner, her happiness was almost too overwhelming to be borne.

  “What made you spirit me away in such a — manner?” she asked after a moment.

  “I was afraid
,” Perequine replied, “afraid of losing you. I do not think I have ever suffered such agonies as I did on the journey down from Yorkshire thinking I might be too late.”

  Fenella made a little murmur.

  “You can never escape me now,” he went on in a deep voice. “You are mine, my dearest Heart, mine as you always have been, only I was such a fool I did not realise it. You were so much a part of the Priory, my life and of me, that it was only when I thought that I might lose you I knew it was impossible to live without you.”

  “When did you first — know you — loved me,” Fenella asked as every woman has asked since the beginning of time.

  “When I kissed you in the Crypt,” he answered. “As my lips met yours, I knew a magic I had never known before. I was aware then that you were what I had been looking for, you were what I had been seeking, and I had had no idea of it.”

  “It was — wonderful for me — too,” she whispered, “but why did you not tell me that you — loved me?”

  “Because I realised I had nothing to offer you,” he answered. “How could I marry you knowing that the only way I could get money was to involve you in crazy dangerous adventures in which you might have been harmed. It had not mattered where other women were concerned, with you it was different.”

  He paused for a moment and then he said,

  “That was why I was going to India to make money for you, my darling one. To work so that we could live together at the Priory.”

  He held her so tightly that she could hardly breathe as he said,

  “How could I have been such a muttonhead as not to anticipate that you might find someone else when I was away? I just expected you to wait for me. I knew that we belonged to each other and I thought you must know it too.”

  “I do belong to — you. I always — have.”

  “You belong to me now,” he said. “And you can be sure of one thing, my precious, I will never let you go, never, never.”

  “As if — I would — wish to leave — you!”

  “And I will not have you flirting with Waringham or anyone else,” he said masterfully. “Let me make one thing very clear, Fenella, I shall be a very jealous husband.”