The Waters of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  He joined her and for a while they galloped side by side, gathering speed on the powerful beasts that they both rode harder and harder.

  He found that she was a match for him. She feared nothing, whether it was the highest fence or the widest ditch and if he increased his speed, so did she, daring him.

  It was exhilarating to be with her.

  At last they slowed and brought their horses to a halt.

  “Thank goodness!” exclaimed Lexia. “Now I feel I can breathe again.”

  “Did you know I would be waiting for you?”

  “Not exactly know, but I hoped you would. If you only knew how badly I need someone to talk to!”

  “But I do know, it’s the same with me.”

  “If you could have heard my father. He didn’t stop talking all last evening and now he has met you, he thinks you’re wonderful.”

  “I hope you told him I wasn’t.”

  “I tried, but it was hard to be convincing after you were so nice to us. That made it very difficult for me.”

  “I beg pardon, ma’am,” he said meekly. “I’ll try to do better next time.”

  They found a stream and dismounted to allow the horses to drink.

  “Does your father know you are out here, dressed like this?” he asked, laughing.

  “I told him I was going riding with the Marquis, so he didn’t raise any objection. But the truth is that I came to meet my friend, Frank.”

  He grinned.

  “You are not still angry with him, then?”

  “I cannot afford to be,” she replied simply. “He’s the only real friend I have. Besides,” she added, with a smile, “he is my spy in the camp.”

  “Ah! You mean he can alert you to how the Marquis’s mind is working?”

  “Exactly. So I hope he has plenty of information for me now. How were things after we left yesterday afternoon?”

  “The ladies were delighted with you. They said so to his Lordship at length and repeatedly.”

  “That must have made matters very difficult for him.”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “He is not averse to hearing you praised, ma’am, especially as his own view of you was entirely favourable.”

  “That is kind of him when I am making his life so difficult. I actually feel rather sorry for the Marquis, being badgered to marry when he doesn’t want to.”

  “He copes with it fairly well,” the Marquis told her. “Don’t forget that he has been raised to think of marriage as a duty he must one day perform for the good of his estate.”

  “But what woman wants to know that a man has married her for duty? What kind of marriage could they have? How would she look at him and what would she expect to see in his eyes?”

  She gave a heavy sigh.

  “And what would she see in his eyes? Weariness and resignation, the knowledge of a life that might have been so much happier.”

  He nodded.

  “The Marquis feels the same. You see, he has always cherished the notion that somewhere in the world is a woman who will love him for himself alone – without thinking of the worldly advantages that he can bring.

  “And he hoped that if he was patient he would find that woman. But time passes and she seems to slip beyond his grasp.”

  “I know just how he feels,” said Lexia earnestly. “It’s what we all want, isn’t it – someone who prizes us for ourselves. Oh, Frank, if we are not careful, they will marry us off to each other before we know what’s happening.”

  “No, they won’t, I won’t let it happen.”

  “I have said that to myself, but, although I might try to stand up to my father, I don’t know how much success I would have. It’s so much easier for a man to be strong. So if you are as determined to avoid our marriage as I am, then I feel there is hope.”

  He looked at her strangely.

  “But hope for what? Hope that one day you may be reunited with the man you love?”

  Lexia glanced at him quickly.

  “I know,” he told her. “I know about Wayne Freeman.”

  “But how – ?”

  “Servants’ gossip. Forgive me for heeding it, but I am glad to know the truth.”

  “I wonder what, exactly, you think is the truth?” she enquired cautiously.

  “That you love this man and your father forced you to leave America to take you away from him.”

  “It wasn’t quite like that – ”

  “Please – ” he held up a hand to stop her. “I am not prying into your private affairs. I have no right to do so, but I merely feel ashamed of some of the things I said to you when we first met. When I think that I actually implied that you were setting your cap at me – well, I don’t know how to look you in the face.”

  Since this imputation had been the one that annoyed Lexia the most, she found a certain amount of pleasure in this moment. She had no desire to deceive him, but she was glad to have him realise that she was not setting her cap at him.

  After a moment she said carefully,

  “You will understand that this is something I cannot discuss.”

  “I would not for the world intrude upon your most delicate feelings,” he assured her. “But may I ask – do you really despair of marrying him?”

  “I would never be so poor spirited as to indulge in despair,” she riposted firmly.

  “Of course not. You are all courage, but do you not still cherish the dream of being united with the man you love?”

  “Please,” she said hurriedly, “do not speak of him as the man I love – ”

  “Forgive me, that was tactless. I only meant – I am too much your friend to want to stand between you and your happiness.”

  “You do not, I assure you. There is no question of our marriage.”

  “You think your father will remain intransigent?”

  “I am convinced of it. Besides, I don’t even know where Wayne is.”

  “Didn’t you leave him behind in America?”

  “He left New York to go off on his travels. He may still be there or he may have come to Europe.”

  “In search of you?”

  “No, not looking for me,” answered Lexia quickly.

  She was finding it difficult to talk about Wayne in the face of the Marquis’s conviction that they were in love.

  “You must not think of me as broken-hearted,” she told him, meaning only to be honest. “I do not dream of marrying Wayne.”

  “I admire you for refusing to wear your heart on your sleeve. You mean that your father has crushed your dreams. Obviously this man cannot help you climb the social ladder that is so important to him?”

  “He has nothing to recommend him but a good heart,” smiled Lexia, “and he dances very well.”

  “A poor recommendation in a husband.”

  “Now you sound like my Papa.”

  “Don’t say that. Believe me truly to be your friend. Is there nothing I can do to help you?”

  Lexia laughed.

  “You can protect me from the others.”

  “Yes, I can do that and you, in your turn, can protect me.”

  “From Martha?”

  It was a shot in the dark.

  “Yes, from Martha. I promise you, I could really do with your assistance there.”

  Lexia gave him a look of mischievous innocence.

  “But I understood from Lady Overton that you and Martha are practically engaged.”

  He threw her a dark look that made her giggle.

  “Is she not a great beauty?”

  “Indeed she is. Every feature is fine and perfectly formed.”

  “But her purse is not large enough?”

  “She is well-dowered, beautiful, elegant and virtuous,” the Marquis told her, speaking like a man reciting a lesson.

  Lexia stared, willing him to go on.

  “But I could not make myself marry her,” he confessed at last.

  “What fault do you have to find with her?”

  “None,
that is what terrifies me. Her voice is low and well-modulated, she never says anything out of place – ”

  “Not like me?”

  “Definitely not like you. Her behaviour is definitely ladylike. She would never have ridden out without a groom.”

  “A paragon of virtue?”

  “A bore,” he said gloomily. “Whatever is there, is perfect, but so much is missing. When I am in her company I never feel that I dare laugh too often.”

  “Good Heavens! How terrible! Then I promise to look after you.”

  “My dearest friend!”

  He clasped her hand warmly and she clasped his back.

  “You are going to be on show at Lady Overton’s dinner tonight,” he warned. “The neighbourhood will be there, getting your measure.”

  “Then I must not disappoint them,” she enthused, her eyes gleaming with pleasure.

  “Remember,” he told he, “be magnificent.”

  Lexia laughed.

  “But that was for yesterday.”

  “Tomorrow night you need to be even more splendid – for Lady Overton and the whole neighbourhood.”

  “Very well. Magnificent.”

  He held her horse’s head while she mounted.

  “Until tonight,” he murmured.

  “Until tonight.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  True to his word, the Marquis arrived at six o’clock that evening.

  Lexia descended the main staircase to find him waiting in the hall below with her father and they looked up to watch her with differing degrees of satisfaction.

  Mr. Drayton nearly burst with pride at the picture his daughter presented. She was wearing a dress that she had bought in London and which had originally been imported from Paris.

  The Marquis also regarded her with pleasure, although his was quieter and more restrained. He thought she looked exquisitely beautiful and would surely outshine all the ladies at the dinner party.

  He wondered if Wayne Freeman truly appreciated what he had won and why he had allowed himself to be frightened off – the ungrateful dog!

  The Marquis knew that if he had won such a prize as this woman he would have allowed no man to frighten him away.

  It seemed that Lexia was like so many women who gave their hearts to men who were unworthy of them.

  For a moment this thought made the Marquis feel a little savage, but there was no sign of anger in his eyes as he stepped forward to take her hand and lead her down from the last step. His eyes were filled with smiling admiration.

  The sight comforted Lexia. This was not the terrible Marquis being driven to pursue her for gain.

  This was her friend Frank.

  “My compliments, madam,” he began lightly. “You look – ” his eyes teased her, “magnificent.”

  She smiled at him understanding his joke.

  Mr. Drayton watched them in seventh heaven. Already he could hear wedding bells.

  His joy was increased when he saw the Marquis’s carriage displaying the Wimborton coat of arms on the panels. All his efforts in London had not enabled him to arrive at a party in this kind of style.

  For the entire journey he beamed at the other two sitting opposite him in a manner that made them both feel self-conscious.

  It was twilight when they reached the Overton mansion, which was flooded with lights. As the carriage drew up outside, two powdered footmen advanced to open the door and let down the steps.

  The Marquis offered his arm to Lexia and indicated for Mr. Drayton to go ahead of them, an act of courtesy that pleased Lexia, but strained Lady Overton’s sense of etiquette.

  She was forced to greet Mr. Drayton effusively first, before turning her attention to the man who was her prey.

  Even then it was hard for her to keep smiling at the sight of Lexia on his arm, but she still had her trump card to play, so she bided her time.

  For a while she contented herself with introducing the Draytons to her other guests, every one of whom knew in advance about the huge Drayton fortune – Lady Overton had made certain of that.

  She had also invited several young men to meet them, all of whom crowded around Lexia.

  Lexia understood perfectly. She had been through this ritual many times before and she knew how to play her part with ease. Also some of the young men were extremely good-looking, so she decided to enjoy the evening.

  “Isn’t she charming?” Lady Overton cooed to the Marquis. “So unspoiled! So rustic!”

  “So rich!” murmured the Marquis, appreciating these tactics. “Lord Charles, the Honourable Ferdinand, the Honourable Augustus and Viscount Frain. All of them in need of cash. You are playing a deep game, Honoria.”

  “I am merely introducing her to likely prospects.”

  “You may think them likely, but her father won’t.”

  “But she might. Charles is so handsome.”

  “He is also practically half-witted and let me assure you, Honoria, that the lady has all her wits about her.”

  Since this was precisely what Lady Overton was afraid of, she decided it was time to play her ace.

  “And now I have the most wonderful surprise for you,” she gushed. “Who did you least expect to see tonight?”

  “I really could not say,” the Marquis responded politely, while an uneasy feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach.

  “Oh, I am sure you must guess. She turned up so unexpectedly and we were all so thrilled. I told her to stay out of sight at first and not spoil the surprise, but here she is”.

  Following her pointing hand the Marquis turned his appalled gaze to the staircase, at the top of which stood Martha.

  Lexia saw her too and regarded her with interest. Martha was undoubtedly the most beautiful young woman she had ever seen, but there was a cold perfection about her that reminded Lexia of a marble statue.

  She was dressed in a ravishing gown of white silk and tulle with pearls around her neck and in her ears.

  In fact, she looked like a bride.

  She evidently commanded general admiration for the young men gathered at the foot of the staircase to watch her descent. But none of them moved forward to greet her. They all knew that she was hunting very big game.

  The Marquis knew it too, but good manners obliged him to step forward and take her hand, greeting her pleasantly.

  Lexia could not help observing how well they went together. His height and air of distinction perfectly matched Martha’s flawless porcelain beauty.

  Nature had meant her to be a great lady, Lexia thought. Possibly a Marchioness and from the way she took the Marquis’s hand, it was clear that she thought so too.

  Then Lady Overton was ushering them all into the dining room, showing Lexia to her seat, between Lord Charles and Viscount Frain. The Marquis naturally was next to Martha.

  This was the kind of situation, Lexia mused, where he felt as hunted and miserable as she did herself. She sent him a look of sympathy, but instead of returning it, he seemed content to devote himself to Martha.

  Which left her nothing to do but flirt with the two young men on either side of her and a third who smiled at her across the table. Seeing that there was no better way of passing the evening, she concentrated on enjoying herself.

  Luckily Viscount Frain was a wit and her merry laughter frequently rang out down the table. Occasionally this would make the Marquis glance at her with a little frown, but his attention was soon reclaimed by Martha’s elegant hand on his arm.

  After that Lexia did not glance in his direction again.

  Lady Overton was looking insufferably smug.

  Mr. Drayton was glowering. He was not a subtle man, but he could read the atmosphere where his own interests were concerned.

  Lady Overton beamed in Lexia’s direction.

  “It is so delightful for us to meet new people,” she proclaimed. “I fear that in our little corner of the County we are becoming sadly out of touch. Miss Drayton and her father come from another part of the world.”


  There were smiles all around the table.

  “Of course, my dear,” Lady Overton droned on, “we understand that things are done differently over there, so you need not be shy if you find everything a little strange.”

  Lexia was silent for a brief moment. Lady Overton was patronising her and it was like a declaration of war.

  She raised her head at last and if the Marquis was the only person at the table who recognised that she had accepted the challenge, to him at least the glint in her eye was perfectly clear.

  “You mean if I don’t use the right knife and fork?” asked Lexia sweetly.

  Lady Overton’s smile became glassy and around the table there were a few intakes of breath.

  “I am sure we would all like to hear about High Society in America,” she said.

  “I couldn’t tell you about that,” replied Lexia affably. “I preferred cow punching myself.”

  Her accent, which had become more English recently, had reverted to American and a slightly theatrical bluntness had crept into her manner.

  Her father noticed it and glared.

  The Marquis noticed it too and watched her with increased interest.

  Beside her Lord Charles gave an inane giggle.

  “Cow punching?” he echoed. “You punch cows? With your fists? I say, doesn’t it make them frightfully annoyed?”

  “It does a little,” agreed Lexia, through quivering lips.

  “There’s a machine,” came in the Marquis, sounding as though he was speaking with difficulty. “It punches a hole in the cow’s ear so that it can be tagged for identification.”

  “I say! How frightfully – frightfully – oh, I say!”

  “Very interesting!” observed Lady Overton coldly. “I thought we would have a little dance later. Nothing formal. We will push back the carpet and enjoy ourselves.”

  She might call it informal, but she had managed to secure the services of a six piece orchestra.

  With only thirty guests, there was a restricted choice of partners, which was, perhaps, what Lady Overton had intended.

  The Marquis danced with Martha while Lexia juggled with admirers. But he was a gentleman of perfect manners and all his hostess’s efforts could not make him dance with Martha a second time until he had taken the floor with Lexia.