Danger to the Duke

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Danger to the Duke Page 6

by Barbara Cartland


  “You look younger and I find it hard to believe what you have been telling me about yourself is true.”

  “I promise you I never lie if I can help it. Just at the moment, because I am so frightened, I feel very young and vulnerable and it is difficult to think clearly as I am sure I ought to do.”

  “I think you had better leave the thinking to me,”

  proposed Michael. “I have had to think a great deal in my life and I am determined to find the right answer to our current problem.”

  “You now know a lot about me, but you have not told me anything about yourself.”

  Michael hesitated for a moment, and then he said,

  “Just as you have your secrets, I want to have mine for the moment. Not because I do not trust you, but if you are in hiding, so am I.”

  Adela’s eyes opened wide.

  “You are in hiding?” she asked. “But why?”

  “That is something I am not going to tell you at the moment. It makes it easier for both of us if we are more or less in the same boat and have to be very careful about what we do and what we say?”

  “It makes me feel that I am not imposing on you so much or being a terrible bore. Please tell me exactly what I have to do so that I do not make mistakes.”

  As she spoke it struck Michael that he had now committed himself to taking her with him to Grangemoore.

  What was the alternative?

  It would be impossible for him to put her down on the roadside and tell her to fend for herself.

  It was not only because she was so lovely, but she was so defenceless that anything might happen to her.

  If it did, he knew he would never forgive himself.

  “I am not quite certain what lies ahead,” he said, “but I will take you with me. You may have to be prepared to rough it, as you have never had to do before.”

  “I do not mind what I do or where I go,” declared Adela passionately,” as long as I can be with you and I know you will look after me and protect me.”

  She stretched out her hand towards him and added,

  “I do not know how to say thank you, but it is what I am saying in my heart.”

  Michael did not reply because the innkeeper’s wife had just arrived with a large bowl of soup.

  It was hot and had a delicious taste and both Michael and Adela enjoyed every mouthful. To follow there was a rabbit stew with vegetables from the garden and after that there were some very small strawberries, the first of the season.

  Michael had ordered a bottle of white wine, the best the inn stocked and was, he thought, quite palatable, although undoubtedly the Viceroy would have turned his nose up at it.

  “I enjoyed my dinner enormously,” said Adela when they had finished. “And thank you for letting me dine with you.”

  “Perhaps one day we will go somewhere grander,”

  murmured Michael.

  He felt surprised that the words had come quite naturally to him.

  Was it possible, he asked himself, that he was intending to see this young woman, who had forced herself upon him so unexpectedly, in the future?

  They had talked on quite a number of subjects at dinner and Michael found himself laughing, but it was not the way he had laughed at the flirtatious doubles entendres with which he had been amused by the ladies he had spent time with in India.

  When he had been invited to the Viceregal Lodge in Calcutta he had met the cream of London Society amongst the guests including the beauties who were so admired by the Prince of Wales.

  He concluded as he finished dinner with Adela that he had been entertained tonight in a very different way and it would have been impossible for him to have dined with a more enchanting companion.

  ‘She is certainly unusual,’ he told himself. ‘Equally I must be very careful.’

  When they walked upstairs to bed and he left Adela at her bedroom door, he reminded her to lock it and as he went into his own room, there was a faint smile on his lips.

  No one in India or in his Regiment would ever believe he had escorted such a beautiful girl to bed without kissing her goodnight!

  He was quite certain, fascinating and intelligent as Adela was, she had never been kissed. One or two remarks had told him that she was very innocent, despite her travels with her father.

  In fact she had little or no knowledge of the world to which she was entitled as a debutante. She had not mentioned that she might have gone to London if her mother had been alive or that she should have been presented to Queen Victoria at Court.

  Nor that she had missed the balls and other festivities which every debutante would expect in her first Season.

  From all that Adela had said, Michael guessed that her father had been a country squire with a good family tree and surprisingly he had possessed an unusual talent in the discovery of minerals.

  Although Adela undoubtedly was a lady, she was definitely not part of the Social world which had always been available to the Moore family.

  ‘I must be very wary,’ Michael told himself as he climbed into bed, ‘that she does not fall in love with me.’

  He realised only too well how women found him irresistible because of his good looks and he hoped it was because of his intelligence as well. Almost before he wished them to do so, they threw themselves into his arms.

  Then he told himself he was so much older than Adela and it was therefore very unlikely she would think of him except as an elder brother or almost as a father figure.

  ‘I am sure,’ he tried to convince himself before he fell sleep, ‘that once I take my rightful place as the Duke of Grangemoore, it will be easy to find someone to look after her and keep her well hidden away from her appalling stepmother.’

  He fell asleep and dreamed that once again he was driving his horses and he was urging them to a greater and greater speed because he was being pursued.

  He had the feeling that however fast they were going, the menace behind him was coming faster still and it was a relief that just when it was about to reach him, he woke up with a start.

  ‘Now why on earth should I have a dream like that?’

  he asked himself sleepily.

  He looked at his watch which he had placed on the table by his bed and saw it was nearly seven o’clock.

  There was still a long way to drive and he had no wish to reach the neighbourhood of Grangemoore Hall when it was getting dark. So he could then have difficulty in finding somewhere suitable to stay.

  He had not yet made up his mind exactly what he would do, but he recognised that he must somehow get into the Hall without anyone realising who he actually was.

  He was anxious to see for himself what was going on and he needed more information than he had obtained from the Turners. Yet what they had told him was enough to make him both curious and apprehensive.

  It was enough to send him into Grangemoore Hall under another identity.

  Then he remembered he had Adela with him and she might prove a considerable handicap, but on the other hand it might simplify the difficulty of concealing his identity.

  No one in their wildest imagination would expect Michael Moore, the Fifth Duke of Grangemoore to arrive from India accompanied by a beautiful young woman.

  He smiled as he thought about it.

  ‘Perhaps after all,’ he told himself, ‘she is really an unexpected gift from the Gods.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Michael and Adela drove off early after a good breakfast.

  He reckoned that they ought to be nearing Little Morley, which was where the Hall was situated, soon after luncheon.

  Then as the hours passed he began to look for a place where they could partake of a quick meal.

  He was trying in his own mind to decide exactly how he could present himself at Grangemoore Hall, but he was still uncertain of his best approach.

  As they were driving closer to Little Morley, they came to a small village where there was a pleasant looking inn.

  “I think we will take l
uncheon here,” suggested Michael.

  “I was hoping you would say that,” replied Adela.

  She had been wondering all the time they had been travelling what Martin, which was of course the name by which she thought of him, would say when they reached their destination.

  She had no idea where they were going, but she had the frightening feeling he would not want her with him.

  ‘How can I stay with him? How can I persuade him to keep me with him?’ she asked herself and yet she could find no answer.

  It was a relief to know they would have at least another meal together.

  The inn was small and rather like the one where they had stayed the night except that the proprietor was an older man and his wife, who was the cook, seemed somewhat reserved. She did not speak to them.

  There were two tables laid in a very small room and to Michael’s relief there was no one else dining.

  He was now beginning to feel a little nervous just in case someone should recognise him. It could not be because they had seen him before, but if his looks resembled other members of his family, someone might notice it.

  He supposed people could say he looked like his father, but actually he thought he was more like his mother.

  At the same time because he could not remember seeing any pictures of his uncles or his grandfather, he had no idea if he looked like them or not.

  He could only hope that any resemblance was not too striking as otherwise someone might be asking who he was.

  It was not a very exciting luncheon provided by the inn – just some cold ham with a few vegetables, but the bread at least was newly baked and the butter obviously came from a Jersey cow.

  Both Michael and Adela enjoyed the local cider.

  When they had finished eating, Adela went upstairs to tidy herself before they proceeded any further.

  Michael walked into the bar where the proprietor was cleaning some glasses.

  “I think we are close to Grangemoore Hall,” said Michael casually. “I hear it is a very impressive house. Are there any sightseers being admitted to see it?”

  “No chance as I knows of, sir,” replied the proprietor.

  “They be ’aving a lot of trouble at the ’all and no mistake.”

  “What is happening?” enquired Michael still in a casual tone.

  “Well, they can’t keep no servants for one thing. The butler who was there for years comes ’ere yesterday on ’is way to London, ’e says ’e’d had enough and no man could stand more.”

  “What did he mean?”

  “There’s been a lot of talk about what’s been ’appening at the ’all,” answered the proprietor. “Some says the gentleman drinks too much, and others that the goings on be a-shocking the whole village.”

  “It sounds strange to me,” remarked Michael.

  “Well, sir, what the butler says yesterday was that it be more than flesh and blood could stand. He said ’e’d rather go to the workhouse than put up with any more of it!”

  “If that is the truth, I am sorry for him.”

  “Well ’e ain’t the first to leave and I don’t suppose ’e’ll be the last. If you asks me, it be the man who’s taken the place of the last Duke. A nasty bit of work ’e be from what I ’ears.”

  “So you do not think there is any chance of my having a look round the house, even if I pay to do so?”

  “If you asks me, I’d say you’ll get your ’ead snapped off for suggesting it, but you can only try.”

  Michael laughed.

  “I hardly think it’s worth it.”

  He paid the proprietor for the meal and went to be back of the inn to collect the chaise.

  As they drove off he was silent until Adela looked at him questioningly.

  “Has anything upset you?” she asked a little nervously.

  To her surprise Michael drew his horses to a standstill.

  “I have something to ask you,” he said, “and you have to think very carefully about it.”

  “About what?”

  “You have two choices of what you could do,” began Michael slowly. “First I can take you to a Railway Station and give you the money to enable you to reach your aunt in Northumberland.”

  He saw Adela’s cheeks go pale, but she did not answer him, so he continued,

  “Alternatively you can come with me, but I must tell you that I am going to apply for the position of butler at Grangemoore Hall.”

  Adela stared at him.

  “As butler?” she exclaimed. “But, Martin, you are a gentleman! How can you take the position of a servant?”

  “That is my business,” replied Michael, “and you will have to pretend, as I shall be pretending, that it is my usual position in life.”

  He paused before he added,

  “Now think carefully and if you decide to go by train, we can perhaps find someone who is going in the same direction who you can travel with.”

  “I want to stay with you,” Adela came in quickly.

  “Please, please, Martin, let me stay with you! It is the only way I can feel safe.”

  She thought he might argue with her, but instead he smiled.

  “Very well,” he agreed. “But you will have to help me and you must be very careful what you say.”

  “I will do anything you want as long as I can be with you.”

  “The first thing you must do is to hold the horses while I fetch something out from my luggage.”

  He jumped out of the chaise whilst Adela held on to the reins.

  He walked to the back and opened one of his cases and took out a small locked box in which he kept his papers, his real passport and all his important documents.

  He had remembered that he had kept a few sheets of writing paper from Viceregal Lodge and fortunately he had brought a small pot of ink and a quill pen with him.

  Sitting on the back of the chaise with the box on his knee, he wrote out his own reference on the Viceregal writing paper.

  “To Whom It May Concern.

  The Most Honourable the Marquis of Dufferin has pleasure in recommending Martin Morris who has been his butler for over three years.

  His Lordship has found him trustworthy, honest, sober and extremely capable in all his duties.

  George Littleton,

  Secretary.”

  Michael read the reference through and then placed it carefully into the inside pocket of his coat, crushing it a little so that it would appear that it had been with him for some time.

  Next he closed his case and climbed back into the chaise taking the reins from Adela.

  “What were you doing?” she asked curiously.

  For a moment Michael hesitated and then told her the truth.

  “Writing my reference!”

  Adela laughed.

  “I’m sure you gave yourself a very good one!”

  “Of course, because it is important for me to get the job I am seeking.”

  There was silence for a little while and then as he drove on Adela asked,

  “Are you really so poor that you have to work for your living or are you doing it for some other reason?”

  “What do you think or rather suspect?”

  “That you have some other reason for pretending to be a butler.”

  “That is indeed the truth and it is why you have to help me. One unwary word, one single slip that might make people suspect that I am an impostor and we would be thrown out of the house in no uncertain manner.”

  “I promise that I will be very careful,” murmured Adela.

  They were now nearing Little Morley and when Michael saw the name on a signpost on the outskirts of the village, he drew in his horses again.

  To Adela’s surprise he took off his hat and pulling out a comb he had taken from his case, he parted his hair in the middle.

  Watching, Adela thought it gave him quite a different look and somehow took away some of his distinction.

  “Is that all you are going to do?” she asked as Michael put on
his hat again.

  “I told you that when you are disguised you have to think yourself into the character of the person you are pretending to be.”

  “Is that what I have to do as well?”

  “Of course. You are my sister and I have you with me because our father and mother have both recently died. You are well skilled with a needle and are prepared to help the housekeeper with any sewing that is required.”

  “Oh, I really can sew,” admitted Adela.

  “I thought you could and be very careful not to confide in anyone or say anything different about ourselves from the story I have just told you.”

  “I will be very, very careful,” promised Adela meekly.

  Michael drove on.

  They had only gone a short distance when they saw a pair of ornamental gates set back from the road. There were heraldic stone carvings on each side and two quite large lodges.

  The gates were wide open and there was no need for the lodge-keeper to come and open them. As they passed the lodges it appeared that one was empty and there was no movement in the other.

  The drive was long and lined on each side by ancient oak trees so they drove for some distance before there was the first sight of the house.

  When they could see it, Adela gave a cry of astonishment.

  “Is this where we are going? It’s enormous!”

  Michael was thinking much the same. He had always supposed that Grangemoore Hall would be impressive, but he had not expected it to be so large or in fact so beautiful.

  He knew without being told it had either been built or renovated about 1750 by the famous Adams brothers, who were responsible for all the great Palladian houses commissioned at that time by so many of the English nobility.

  Besides its exquisite design, Grangemoore Hall was magnificently sited halfway up a steep incline which was covered with a mass of fir trees that made a protective and very fine background for the house. On one side there was a very attractive artificial lake with a cascade.

  They drove on slowly up the drive.

  Michael was thinking it could not be true that now this was all his.

  His father had never spoken of his home and all he had heard about it had come casually from other people.

  Now he realised that Grangemoore Hall was unique.

 

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