Love and the Gods

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Love and the Gods Page 4

by Barbara Cartland


  “I hope you will not do so,” the equerry replied. “Think of us. And I am certain, if you are to be a guest, the Queen will find a few ladies who have not gone grey at their temples!”

  The Duke chuckled.

  Then he climbed into his chaise.

  “Make it your business,” he smiled at the equerry, “to see that at least one pretty face sits next to me at dinner or I will have a pressing invitation to visit Paris!”

  The equerry laughed and waved as the Duke drove off.

  The horses began to gather speed as soon as they were out of the town.

  The Duke was thinking that of all the possibilities he had envisaged when on his way to Windsor Castle, such a mission as this had never entered his mind.

  Now, when he thought it out, it seemed as if Fate had decreed that he should be blessed. The task Her Majesty had offered him was unusual and exacting.

  There was no doubt that the Queen was correct in thinking that the statue of Apollo should go back to where it belonged.

  At the same time if it was known that it had come from England there would be innumerable connoisseurs who would fight fervently to keep it in British hands to the obvious embarrassment of the Queen.

  Yet he appreciated that she was indeed wise enough to realise that nothing could be more inspiring for King George at this pivotal moment in his reign.

  If he could restore to Delos the God that had been worshipped and adored by every Greek, he too would be a God-like hero.

  The Duke remembered reading when at Oxford that it was still believed that a Divine light fell over Delos and to the Greeks Apollo was always present, even as Athena herself was still presiding in the Parthenon.

  He recalled thinking that was what he should feel and yet, when he had visited Greece, he found it was a very rough place and he had only stayed for a short time.

  It was just before the reign of King George and it was because he had been so interested in the history of Ancient Greece that he had stopped off in Athens.

  Yet the Parthenon had moved him in a way he had not expected and he now knew a great deal more about Apollo than he had known then.

  The Ancient Greeks had felt that in the air over Delos there was always a dancing quivering flame and it was because Apollo was the God of Light.

  The Duke had thought at the time that there was something unmistakably different in the light he had found in Greece.

  Then he had read that some people who paid a visit to Delos were aware, in the bright shimmering light, of the beating of silver wings and a whir of silver wheels.

  It was, he believed, just a romantic fantasy of those who wrote about the Greek Islands.

  Now it occurred to the Duke that perhaps because he was to be the conveyor of Apollo, he too should know all about this.

  Then he told himself he was just being ridiculous and because he was English and practical, he could hardly feel what the Ancient Greeks had felt.

  Or, as they had fervently believed, that the Gods watched over them and directed every single thought and movement of their lives.

  ‘I am letting my imagination run away with me,’ he mused as he neared London.

  Then he remembered that he was dining with the Prince of Wales tonight.

  It would be a huge mistake to say he had been at Windsor Castle during the day, even more of a mistake for the Prince to think that in any way his mother had confided in him.

  Queen Victoria had always prevented her son from taking any part in State affairs and this drove him, as the Duke and others of his friends and admirers knew, into a life that was a waste of his brain and intelligence.

  So, because he had nothing else to do, the Prince pursued women, falling in and out of love as easily as the Duke himself.

  Yet, whenever they appeared together in public, the Prince and his wife, Princess Alexandra, seemed an ideal married couple and it was therefore not surprising that the people applauded them.

  Only the close friends of the Prince, like the Duke, knew how much he yearned to be involved in State affairs and how much he longed to be allowed to be present at the private meetings when the Queen learnt the truth of all that was occurring in every part of her Empire.

  But the door was shut against him and he returned to his pursuit of women simply because he was barred so unreasonably from taking his rightful place as heir to the throne of Great Britain.

  ‘I must be very careful,’ the Duke told himself as they neared Park Lane, ‘that His Royal Highness does not connect, in any way, my departure from London the day after tomorrow with the fact that I have visited Windsor Castle twice this week.’

  He knew that the Prince of Wales was extremely curious and desperate to learn what his mother confided to his friends, while he himself was shut out completely.

  *

  The Duke drew up outside Sherbourne House.

  As he did so, he noticed there was a closed carriage outside the front door.

  And he did not have to look twice at the footman’s livery to know who was calling on him.

  She might well be beautiful, which she undoubtedly was, but at the same time, she was a talker.

  She always knew the tit-bits of news that amused and sometimes shocked those in the Beau Monde.

  As the Duke handed his hat and gloves to one of his footman, the butler intoned,

  “Lady Evelyn is here waiting for Your Grace in the drawing room.”

  The Duke glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece.

  Then the butler added,

  “I’ve ordered the closed carriage for Your Grace at seven o’clock.”

  ‘That,’ the Duke thought, ‘will give me very little time with Lady Evelyn.’

  He knew she had called on him because she had expected him to visit her during the afternoon or at least to send her a message if he could not come.

  He had meant to visit her, but being summoned to Windsor Castle had made it impossible and he was now wondering what his excuse could be as the butler opened the door of the drawing room.

  He had just started his affair with Lady Evelyn.

  She had a husband who disliked London and spent most of his time in the country, while she held court at one of the most impressive houses in Regent’s Park.

  As she was exceedingly wealthy in her own right, her husband could not accuse her of extravagance, but the whole of London chattered about the magnificence of her dinner parties where everyone ate off gold plates.

  She gave balls, where the garden was lit by fairy lights and she hired the best musicians, actors and actresses to entertain her friends when the conversation ran out.

  The Duke had not paid any particular attention to Lady Evelyn until they had met at Marlborough House.

  She had then insisted, saying she was nervous of being driven at night without an escort, that he should see her home.

  That was when she had made it very clear that, if he was interested, so was she, as his own carriage followed behind.

  The Duke was quite certain that with two stalwart servants of her own she was perfectly safe, although there was some justification for her feeling nervous.

  The amount of jewellery she wore would certainly be a great temptation to any robber. They were not only heirlooms from her husband’s family, but also they were from her own collection of diamonds, emeralds and rubies.

  Her jewels were the envy of every woman in the Beau Monde and they sparkled round her long white neck and in her dark hair. Her gowns made every woman anywhere near her look dowdy and somehow out of date.

  She was waiting for him, reclining on a sofa.

  The first thing the Duke saw as he entered the room were the ostrich feathers on her bonnet and they swayed a little as she turned her head towards him.

  She was very beautiful, there was no denying that.

  Yet for a moment, because his mind was on Greece and Apollo, the Duke unexpectedly found her not at all alluring.

  She was certainly not as intriguing as all that lay a
head of him.

  “David!” she exclaimed as he moved towards her. “How could you leave London without telling me where you were going?”

  “You must forgive me,” the Duke murmured as he reached her.

  He took her ungloved hand in his and raised it to his lips, but he did not quite touch her skin.

  “You look very beautiful today,” he remarked, “and I am very sorry that I could not call on you, as I intended to do after luncheon.”

  “Where have you been?” she asked imperiously. “And how could anything be more important than that we should be together?”

  “I think I should ask that question of you first,” the Duke said. “You must tell me where you have been, what you have done and who has told you in my absence that you are surely the most beautiful woman in London.”

  Lady Evelyn laughed a little and looked up at him with an expression on her face he knew only too well.

  “Did you really miss me?” she asked. “Were you a little jealous that someone might have taken your place?”

  “Of course I was jealous, Evelyn, and I will tell you about it tomorrow. But now, as I am sure you are aware, I am dining with His Royal Highness tonight, and to be late is an unforgivable sin. I must now go and dress.”

  “How can you possibly be so unkind as to dine at Marlborough House when you could dine with me?” Lady Evelyn pouted.

  “Unfortunately His Royal Highness invited me a week ago. I was not aware at that time that I could be with you.”

  “But I want you now, this moment, and I want you to dine with me tonight. We will be all alone as I have deliberately not asked anyone else.”

  There was no doubt, from the way she spoke and the way she looked at him, what she intended.

  But the Duke could not help feeling that this was a line he had heard before.

  “You must forgive me, Evelyn, and tomorrow I will go on my knees to make sure you do. But now unless I am to be sent to the Tower of London for lese-majesty I have to go and dress.”

  Before she could reply, he kissed both her hands.

  Then, even as her fingers tried to tighten on his, he had crossed the room and was standing at the door.

  “You are not to tempt me, Evelyn, and the only way I can be safe from such temptation is to leave you. Goodnight, my beautiful one, and when you sleep, dream of me.”

  He was gone before she could bat an eyelid.

  He ruminated, as he ran up the stairs, towards his bedroom that she would undoubtedly never forgive him, especially when he did not turn up tomorrow night either.

  His bath was waiting for him and Jenkins had laid out his clothes.

  Because he had been a soldier, he was always quick in everything he did.

  He had bathed, dressed and was hurrying down the stairs in record time.

  ‘Two records in one day!’ he told himself as he stepped into his carriage.

  Because the coachman knew that he must not be late, the horses were actually moving before the door of the carriage was closed by the footman.

  As he leant back comfortably, he was not thinking of the lovely Lady Evelyn, who had gone away angry and tight-lipped.

  His thoughts were all of tomorrow night at Windsor Castle, when he would take away the statue of the God Apollo from its English hiding place and restore him in glory to his own country, and there his own people would revere him, as they had done more than two thousand years ago.

  The Duke was still thinking of Apollo as he drove swiftly towards Marlborough House.

  Some words he thought he had long forgotten, but which he had read at Oxford, came to his mind,

  “Apollo ruled the world by the power of his beauty. He had no earthly resources, no Army, no Navy and no powerful Government. In the beginning his sole possession was a barren Island.”

  But, as the Duke told himself, he became the most worshipped of all the Greek Gods and he typified to his people the beauty of Light and of Reason.

  And that was why he must now return to the land that needed not only his light but his heart.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Dinner at Marlborough House was as usual most amusing.

  There were a number of extremely pretty ladies and gentlemen with whom the Duke enjoyed conversing.

  When the ladies left the dining room, the gentlemen talked politics.

  As they were finishing a decanter of port, one of them remarked,

  “You snould attend The House of Lords more often, David. Your ideas might be a little revolutionary, but you have convinced me that they are valid.”

  The Duke smiled.

  “I am afraid I find the speeches boring, especially when the older members read them rather badly.”

  There was some laughter at his comment and then someone sneered,

  “The only things you read, Sherbourne, are billets doux.”

  “That is an insult,” the Duke fumed. “I ought to call you out tomorrow morning.”

  “That would certainly be very unfair,” the Prince of Wales intervened. “David is a very good shot and I bet no one is quicker than he is.”

  “The trouble with David,” someone chipped in, “is that he is so quick at everything, especially where a pretty woman is concerned!”

  They were all laughing at the Duke again, but he enjoyed it.

  All the same they all assumed he was not interested in anything but enjoying himself.

  They would indeed be surprised if they knew what he was planning to do tomorrow.

  After dinner some of the gentlemen played bridge and the ladies flirted with those who were not sitting at the bridge tables.

  It was after twelve o’clock when the party finally broke up.

  When the Duke said goodnight to his host, His Royal Highness said,

  “Come and dine with me again soon, David. You always make the party go and you certainly scored points off his Lordship.”

  “I always enjoy myself at Marlborough House,” the Duke replied. “Thank you, sir, so very much for the most delicious dinner and an enjoyable time.”

  The Prince of Wales was obviously pleased at the compliment and patted him on the shoulder.

  “You will be receiving an invitation from me in the next day or two,” he added.

  The Duke thought it wise not to answer this, so he merely hurried to where his carriage was waiting to drive him home.

  Late though it was, he was wondering how he could pack the statue of Apollo safely and securely.

  It had been quite a shock when Her Majesty had told him the statue was almost life-size, as he had been thinking of it as a sculpture that would stand on an altar or in some special alcove in a Chapel.

  He had said lightly that it would fit easily into his luggage, but he certainly did not have a trunk large enough for a statue that was almost life-size.

  When he arrived back at his house, instead of going to his bedroom, he went up to the attics where he knew his luggage and old suitcases were stored.

  He carried with him a lighted candle and then he lit another so that he could inspect the enormous number of pieces of luggage that had accumulated in the attics over the years.

  His own cases were smart and of the best leather, but when he looked at them they were all far too small for anything like this statue.

  He knew that it would be a great mistake for it to be simply wrapped up in linen as that would obviously make the servants at Windsor Castle question what he was taking away and for them to talk about it would be dangerous.

  ‘There must be something,’ he said to himself as he looked around.

  Then, at the far end of the attic, he saw what looked for a moment almost like a bed placed against the wall.

  For a while, he stared at it and then he remembered what it was.

  When he had been on a trip to Japan, he had seen two delightfully embroidered and bejewelled screens that had been made perhaps a hundred years ago.

  They were in their own way unique and he had brought them home and one of
them was in his castle in the country. The other, because it was rather large, was in a room he seldom used in London.

  They had, in fact, turned out to be white elephants as they did not fit in with any of the rest of his furniture or decorative schemes.

  To bring them home he had had a special packing case designed to hold them and this was now staring at him across the attic.

  As he looked at it, he knew exactly what he would do.

  He went back downstairs and found his valet, as he had expected, in his bedroom.

  Jenkins had realised his Master had gone upstairs and thought it very strange that he should be visiting the attics so late at night.

  As he came into his bedroom, the Duke called out to Jenkins,

  “I have promised Her Majesty that I would give her a present. It has to be something rather good as actually I forgot her birthday this year.”

  “I thinks you were abroad, Your Grace.” “I intend to make up for it now,” the Duke went on, as if Jenkins had not spoken, “by giving her one of the screens you will remember we brought back with us from Japan.”

  “Her Majesty will like that, I’m sure, but if you remember, Your Grace, they were a terrible nuisance to us on the voyage, being too big to be put into the cabins, and people complained they tripped over them when they stood in the corridor.”

  “I remember, Jenkins, but we brought them home safely. I want you first thing tomorrow morning to bring down the case that was made for them in Japan and put the screen which is in the blue drawing room into it.”

  “I’ll have to have some help, Your Grace.”

  “Yes, of course. Get the footmen to help you, but be certain you supervise it properly so that the screen is not damaged in any way before I present it to Her Majesty.”

  “When’ll Your Grace be doing that?” “Some time tomorrow, Jenkins, and I will let you know exactly when. But have the screen packed up first thing in the morning.”

  He gave the order almost sharply so that he knew it would be carried out.

  He had no intention of telling Jenkins until much later that they were going away as he did not want there to be too much speculation as to ‘whys and wherefores’ in the servants’ hall.

  When the Duke at last climbed into bed, it was with a feeling of satisfaction that he had settled one problem.

 

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