Forced to Marry

by Barbara Cartland

  The snake which was now sliding relentlessly over the thick carpet as if in search of prey turned back towards Gytha.

  She knew that she was safe.

  At the same time the whole thing was unexpected and terrifying.

  She could only thank God that Lord Locke was there.

  She was saying a little prayer of thankfulness when she heard him returning.

  She knew before she saw what he held in his hand what he was about to do.

  She had expected him to be carrying a shotgun.

  Instead he held one of her father’s duelling pistols.

  Then a shot rang out, seeming unnaturally loud being confined by four walls.

  The adder was dead although its tail continued to twitch.

  It was then that Emily burst into tears.

  “It is all right,” Lord Locke said soothingly. “It’s all over. It cannot hurt you now.”

  Quickly the maid climbed down from the chair and, bawling like a frightened child, she rushed from the room.

  Lord Locke picked the adder up by the tail, dropped it into the basket, and closed the lid.

  Then he went to Gytha and lifted her down onto the floor.

  “How in God’s name did that get here?” he asked.

  For a moment she leant against him as if for support and he saw that she was very pale.

  “It – it was sent to – me as a – Wedding present.”

  “By whom?”

  “I have no idea – it came last night – and Emily forgot about it – until just now. The person who – left it at the door – gave no name.”

  Lord Locke’s lips tightened.

  “I want you to come to stay at Locke Hall,” he said, “until you can make arrangements for one of your relatives to be with you. I have already sent a letter to my aunt, who lives in the Dower House to ask her to chaperone you.”

  Gytha looked up at him.

  He thought that she looked like a child who was waiting to be told what to do.

  She was clearly quite incapable of looking after herself.

  He put his arm around her shoulders and said softly,

  “Leave everything to me. Just tell your maid when she recovers from her shock to pack what you need and it will be collected later. I have already ordered my phaeton to meet me here and I can drive you to Locke Hall in it.”

  “May I really – come with – you?” Gytha asked.

  “I am going to insist on it,” Lord Locke replied. “I do not consider that your cousins are suitable companions for you at this moment – ”

  He paused and wondered if he should say what was in his mind.

  Then he decided that it would be a mistake to keep what had just happened to himself.

  “ – especially,” he continued, “as one of them has just attempted to kill me!”

  “It – cannot be true!”

  “Somebody took a pot-shot at me when I was coming through the ride in Monk’s Wood.”

  “I cannot believe it,” Gytha gasped.

  “If I had not happened to bend forward at that precise moment,” Lord Locke went on, “it would have entered my head and I should not have reached you.”

  Gytha gave a cry of horror.

  Then she said,

  “It was Vincent! I wondered why he had taken – a rifle with him this morning. I was – afraid that he was going to – kill one of the stags.”

  “Instead, he was going to kill me! No doubt it was in an effort to be rid of me. We will have to be careful, you and I, Gytha.”

  Gytha looked up at him, and said in a small voice,

  “And I think it – must have been the – Princess who – sent me the snake.”

  “Why should you think that?” Lord Locke asked.

  It was what he thought himself, but he wanted to know Gytha’s reasons for suspecting it.

  “She told me that you – belonged to her and that – if I tried to – come between you and her – I would be sorry – very sorry for my presumption.”

  As she spoke, Gytha could still hear the threatening note in the Princess’s voice and she remembered how frightened she had been.

  Yet it seemed inconceivable that anything so terrifying as a poisonous adder could have been sent to her by any other woman.

  Instinctively she drew closer to Lord Locke as if she needed his protection.

  “What are we to do?” she asked. “How can we escape if three – people – Vincent and Jonathan and the – Princess are determined that we shall – die.”

  “If I have to die,” Lord Locke replied, “it will not be by a bullet fired at me by a man who is too much of a coward to face me!”

  “But – you cannot – always be on your – guard.”

  Lord Locke knew this to be true.

  But, because he did not want Gytha upset, he said,

  “What we are going to do now is to run away from all this unpleasantness. I am sure that your father would have agreed that a good General always knows when it is wise to retreat!”

  He knew as he spoke that he had said the right thing in reminding Gytha of her father.

  After a moment she said,

  “I am quite sure it is Papa who told me to – come to – you for help when I was so afraid that Grandpapa would make me – marry one of my cousins. But he would not have – wished me to put – your life in – danger.”

  “He certainly would not want you killed by anything so unpleasant as an adder,” Lord Locke said. “Now we have to be sensible enough to work out exactly who our enemies are and how we can make sure of defeating them.”

  His arms tightened around and he hugged her as a brother might have done as he said,

  “Hurry up now and put some clothes together. Then I will take you to my house so that we can sort this out in comfort without feeling that there are scorpions hidden in the chairs and guns pointing at us from the chandeliers!”

  He spoke so lightly that Gytha found herself giving a nervous little laugh.

  She moved from the shelter of his arms towards the door and only as she reached it did she look back to say,

  “I am – ashamed and – horrified that all this should have happened because I asked you to – help me. At the same time I am thanking God – and Papa in my heart – because you are h-here.”

  There were tears in her eyes as she said the last words.

  Lord Locke heard her running down the passage.

  Then he looked at the basket on the floor containing the dead adder.

  He could hardly credit that such things were happening in the peace and quiet of the English countryside.

  Chapter Six

  Lord Locke was waiting impatiently in the hall as Gytha came downstairs.

  The phaeton had arrived and he had sent a groom back with his horse with orders for a carriage to come later and fetch her luggage.

  Gytha hurried down wearing a black fur-trimmed cape that had belonged to her mother.

  She wore a bonnet that she had quickly taken the blue ribbons from and replaced them with black.

  She was aware that she had been keeping Lord Locke waiting.

  But, when she reached his side, she said,

  “Please – I must speak to – you.”

  “We can talk as we drive,” he replied.

  Sand she knew that he was eager to get away.

  He was anticipating that there might be a nasty scene if Vincent returned and he accused him of shooting at him in the wood.

  “Please,” Gytha pleaded.

  Without arguing he followed her to the door of the morning room and it was nearest to where they were standing.

  As she closed the door behind them Gytha said,

  “There is – something I must – say.”

  “What is it?” Lord Locke enquired.

  “I-I asked you to help me and you have been very – very kind and – understanding. But I never dreamt for – one moment that it would mean putting your life in – danger.”

  She took a deep bre
ath and then she went on,

  “That is why I suggest that I stay – here and – help my cousins.”

  Lord Locke stared at her questioningly to see if she was sincere in what she was asking.

  He could not imagine that any other woman of his acquaintance would not cling to him for protection.

  She would also whine about how frightened she was.

  “If I do as you ask,” he said slowly after a moment, “how will you manage?”

  “I have thought – about that,” Gytha replied. “I know if I offer Vincent and Jonathan – all the money that Grandpapa has – left me and the house, they will be – content without my having to – marry either of them.”

  She did not look at Lord Locke as she spoke.

  He was, however, aware that her eyes would be dark with fear and he was near enough to her to realise too that she was trembling.

  “And what then will happen to you?” he asked quietly.

  “Perhaps I could keep – just enough money to have a – cottage somewhere on the estate – and Vincent might let me look after – the horses as I am – doing now. I will be – quite all right.”

  “And do you really think that if your father was in the same position as I am, he would agree to that?”

  He knew as he spoke that he had said the right thing.

  Gytha looked at him and he saw the light of hope in her eyes.

  “You – really mean,” she said hesitatingly, “that you would risk going on – helping me as you have been – doing?”

  “It is what I definitely intend to do,” Lord Locke responded to her. “You and I are going to face the danger together knowing where it comes from.”

  She put out her hand as if she would touch him.

  Then she changed her mind and said in a voice that she strove to control,

  “I-I had to give you a – chance – to leave me. It is – not really your – fight.”

  “As I very much dislike people taking pot-shots at me, it is now!” he countered.

  Then in a different tone of voice he added,

  “Come along. We are wasting time and the sooner we find ourselves in the safety of Locke Hall the better. Equally I am very grateful to you for thinking of me.”

  She looked at him again.

  Now he saw an expression in her eyes that made him uneasy.

  ‘If the child falls in love with me,’ he told himself, ‘it will make things more complicated than they are already.’

  Almost brusquely he walked to the door and opened it saying,

  “We are wasting time and I am quite certain that the horses are becoming restless, which is definitely something to be avoided.”

  The way he spoke made Gytha give a little choked laugh.

  Then they were outside and he helped her into his phaeton.

  As they drove away, Gytha felt as if he carried her up into the sky on wings and everything that was frightening and unpleasant was left behind.

  They sped along the dusty lanes and it made the distance to Locke Hall far longer than if they had gone back the way that Lord Locke had come.

  They did not speak.

  Gytha was murmuring a prayer of thanks.

  She was leaving Vincent and Jonathan behind in the dark house with her grandfather lying dead in his bedroom.

  He had been laid out before she saw him again and she thought that he looked very dignified in death.

  The expression on his face was far kinder than it had been when he was alive.

  She said a prayer beside him.

  Then Dobson had hurried her from the room, saying,

  “It’s no use you upsettin’ yourself, Miss Gytha. The Master’s at peace and he’ll not suffer no more pain.”

  Now Lord Locke had taken charge, but she would have to go back for the funeral.

  But she felt as if the darkness that encompassed her had been swept away.

  She had suddenly come into the sunlight.

  ‘Thank you – God – for letting him – protect me,’ she said in her heart.

  She looked at his handsome profile etched against the sky.

  His eyes were on his horses but she felt a glowing warmth seep through her.

  She knew that everything had changed because he was so kind to her and she wanted to tell him how much it meant to her.

  Almost as if he was aware of her feelings, he looked down and smiled at her.

  At that moment she knew that she loved him.

  Of course she loved him!

  She had loved him since she had first seen him out hunting.

  She had thought then that he was the most fascinating and attractive man she had ever imagined!

  Whenever she had seen him ride in a steeplechase, he had seemed like a Knight in Shining Armour.

  He was part of the fairy stories and annals of Chivalry that her mother had read to her when she was a child.

  She must have been only fifteen when he first began to be part of her dreams.

  She had encouraged the grooms to tell her about his horses.

  Then he had been away for a long time, first in the Army of Occupation and then travelling round the world.

  But she had talked about him to the servants.

  They had relatives in the village working at Locke Hall and at Locke House in London.

  They always had something to relate about the man whom everybody in the neighbourhood admired.

  His gallantry in the War lost nothing in the telling.

  The parties he gave in London on his return when the chief guest was always the Prince Regent were described a dozen times.

  Of course Gytha had heard about the beautiful ladies he spent his time with and she was not surprised that they invariably lost their hearts to him.

  Almost every day there was something new to be exclaimed over in the village shop.

  This was owned by the father of a housemaid at The Hall and of one of Lord Locke’s footmen in London. Another villager was related to his Lordship’s valet.

  Gytha heard everything about the party that Lord Locke intended to give at Locke Hall almost before the servants in the great house were aware of it.

  Now she knew the reason why she had been so interested.

  It was that he was the hero of all her fantasies and the man she admired above all others, but, because of the ridiculous feud between their two families, she thought despairingly that she would never meet him.

  Now she was with him and sitting beside him and he had promised to protect and look after her.

  She thought that no woman in the whole world could be so lucky.

  “I love him! I love him!” she said to the rattle of the wheels and the clip-clop of the horses’ hoofs.

  Then she told herself that she must be very careful.

  He must never be aware of her feelings.

  Perry was waiting for them on the steps and, as he helped Gytha down from the phaeton, he said,

  “Why is Valiant driving without a hat? Was it blown off in the wind?”

  “Blown off is the right word for it,” Lord Locke smiled before Gytha could reply, “but it was not the wind that was responsible but a bullet!”

  Perry stared at him and he added,

  “I will tell you about it when we are alone.”

  They walked into the hall and Gytha felt that it was filled with sunshine as if in a strange way she had come home.

  Lord Locke led the way into the library.

  Going to the grog table, he poured out glasses of champagne for Gytha and himself.

  He said to Perry as he did so,

  “We deserve this. When I tell you what we have been through, you will not believe it!”

  “What on earth has happened?” Perry enquired.

  “My hat was shot from my head by a bullet in the much contested Monk’s Wood,” Lord Locke replied, “and Gytha was sent a poisonous adder as a Wedding present!”

  “I certainly do not believe it!” Perry exclaimed.

  Then they both
had to tell him in detail exactly what had occurred.

  “It was Vincent who shot at me,” Lord Locke said, “and the adder was undoubtedly Zuleika’s Oriental idea of an appropriate Wedding present!”

  “What do you intend to do about them?” Perry enquired.

  Lord Locke shrugged his shoulders.

  “What can I do? I know that they were the culprits, but my suspicions would not be accepted as evidence in a Court of Law.”

  “You can hardly sit down and wait for them to try again,” Perry pointed out.

  “Will you suggest then what we can do,” Lord Locke asked, “short of leaving the country?”

  Gytha put down her glass of champagne on a table beside her chair.

  Clasping her hands together she pleaded,

  “Please, Major Westington, listen to me. I want you to persuade his Lordship that the only sensible thing to do is for me to give the money that Grandpapa has left me to my cousins. Then they will no longer have any motive to – kill him and he will be – safe.”

  “I will not surrender to brute force!” Lord Locke asserted firmly.

  “No, of course not,” Perry agreed, “and when it comes to a fight, Gytha, I would back Valiant against any assailant. He is the best shot with a pistol I have ever known.”

  Gytha did not argue.

  She thought despairingly that Vincent would never attack Lord Locke openly.

  Instead, he would do what he had done already – shoot at him in a wood where he would not be seen.

  He would wait until it was dark to shoot him as he was getting into a carriage or he would wait until he was riding back from hunting.

  Then he would escape before anyone could identify him.

  ‘What can I do to save him?’ she asked herself.

  She felt her love for him surge up into her breast.

  She wanted to tell him that she was willing to die herself rather than that he should be killed or injured on her behalf.

  She did not speak and her frightened eyes reminded Lord Locke of a nervous fawn.

  Then he said,

  “It’s no use worrying ourselves unduly. What we have to do is to decide quite quietly and without panic how we should tackle this situation.”

  He smiled.

  “What we need first is a good luncheon. My Nanny always told me that things would seem better on a full stomach!”

  Gytha laughed as he had intended that she should.