The Winning Post Is Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “I thought you would be pleased with the fountain,” he said. “We had a terrible job to get it going, but it makes the garden look more attractive than it has for years.”

  “I do love a fountain,” sighed Rosetta.

  Then she noticed Gordon drumming his fingers on the windowsill.

  “Don’t be over-anxious,” she said quietly. “That is always a mistake when something vital is at stake.”

  “How can I be anything else?” Gordon asked.

  “You will just have to trust in fate and be confident, as it’s such a good idea and so beneficial to a great number of people, that you will be successful.”

  Gordon smiled at her.

  “That is exactly the right thing to say and of course you are right. It’s stupid of me to be nervous and on edge.”

  “Exactly,” Rosetta asserted. “If people know you are feeling like that and they often know instinctively, then they are inclined to be put off before you have driven home the importance of the idea you are promoting.”

  “Now, Rosetta, you are talking as if you are my grandmother. I cannot think how you can be so wise and at the same time so beautiful.”

  “I take after my mother who was both!”

  Then to his surprise, she turned and walked back towards Henry, who was standing in front of the fireplace and, she realised, watching the door.

  Gordon was staring at Rosetta and he thought that she was undoubtedly the loveliest girl he had ever seen in his whole life.

  Although it seemed incredible, she was even more beautiful than his sister and yet the resemblance was still striking.

  Although he did not want to think about it, he kept remembering the tale he had heard.

  His father, twenty odd years ago, had been very attentive to Mrs. Stourton when her husband was away and she was alone. He was either at the University or taking his students on special expeditions round the world.

  Gordon had, although he had not said anything to Henry, been completely astonished when Rosetta told them her Christian name.

  It had definitely been one of his father’s favourite names and he had actually called his special mare Rosetta as well as a boat he had owned at one time.

  Whether what was frequently suspected about his father’s relationship with Mrs. Stourton was true or not, Gordon did not want to think about it at this moment.

  He therefore turned round to watch the fountain.

  As it threw its water high up into the air, he thought it accurately symbolised all that he and Henry were doing with their ambition over the Racecourse.

  To them it was an exciting and irresistible venture and yet it might seem very different to the Marquis.

  In just fifteen minutes, rather sooner than Gordon reckoned, the Marquis reappeared.

  He was now looking even more handsome in his evening clothes.

  When he entered the study, Gordon could not help giving a shout of joy.

  “You have broken another record, my Lord. No one has ever managed to change so quickly and we ought to award you a special prize!”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “I have learnt to be quick in everything I do,” he said, “and especially in making up my mind.”

  Henry had brought another glass of champagne and he accepted it with alacrity.

  “I confess my throat was dry when I arrived here. It has not rained for weeks and the roads are very dusty.”

  While he was speaking, he was looking at Rosetta.

  She was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen.

  He had heard people talking about Dolina and yet because he had learnt she was little more than a debutante, he had not paid any attention.

  Now he saw her, he thought she seemed older than her years or perhaps he had been misinformed about her age.

  The brothers felt it would be a mistake to talk about the Racecourse the moment the Marquis arrived.

  Therefore Gordon and Henry had put a light cloth over the plans and it would be, they decided, after dinner before they would really begin to discuss the matter with the Marquis.

  In fact the Marquis was just about to enquire,

  “Now tell me why you are so anxious to see me,” just as Barnes announced,

  “Dinner is served, my Lord.”

  “I confess to feeling hungry,” the Marquis observed as they turned to the door. “His Royal Highness always has extremely good food at Marlborough House, but, as I missed my tea, I am looking forward to my dinner.”

  “Then we hope what we have to offer you will not be disappointing,” Gordon remarked.

  He led the way into the dining room and he was aware that the Marquis was scutinising the shining silver on the table with appreciation in his eyes.

  He did not say anything and, as Gordon had heard that the silver at The Castle was really amazing, he hoped that he would not despise theirs.

  They sat down with Gordon at the top of the table with the Marquis on his right and Rosetta on his left and Henry on the other side of Rosetta.

  “This is a charming room,” the Marquis remarked.

  He was looking at the pictures on the walls and the fine marble fireplace that had been brought from Rome by one of the Waincliffe ancestors.

  “Anything we have,” Gordon replied, “has always been overshadowed by all you have at The Castle. I have often thought that it was an unfair stroke of fate that we should be situated side by side.”

  “Well, at least our families have been friendly over the years,” said the Marquis, “and indeed ever since they chose to live in this part of the country.”

  “That is true,” added Rosetta. “In fact one of our many illustrious ancestors was known as ‘Waincliffe the Good,’ and one of his Lordship’s was ‘Millbrook the Just’.”

  The Marquis chortled.

  “I recall hearing that. What was he just about?”

  “I expect he looked after his people and made sure they did not suffer injustice or unfairness,” Rosetta replied. “If you remember, he was a judge for many years and even the highwaymen respected him, because he would never exaggerate the charges against them.”

  The Marquis stared at her in surprise.

  “How do you know all this?” he asked.

  “Living in the country, my Lord, I have naturally read about your family, just as I have read about ours in the archives.”

  “I have a suspicion,” the Marquis said, “you know considerably more about my family than I know myself. I had completely forgotten the ancestor who was called ‘the Just’ or that he was a judge.”

  “I think the truth is,” Gordon chipped in, “that you have very little time to think about your ancestors when you are enjoying yourself in London, while we, who live here quietly, have plenty of time to study the past as well as the present.”

  “I am most intrigued,” said the Marquis, “that your sister should know so much about my family. Or was that particular Marquis more interesting than the others?”

  He knew, as he spoke, that any woman with whom he was flirting in London would say at once that he, the present Marquis, was much the most interesting.

  Instead of which Rosetta responded,

  “My favourite of your family is the one who defied Cromwell’s men. He was so brave in fighting against them that they deliberately left The Castle untouched despite its strategic position in the County.”

  “Is that true?” asked Gordon. “The Cromwellians did a great deal of damage to us.”

  “I have heard the story of the defence of The Castle since I was in the cradle,” the Marquis replied. “But I am surprised it should have been of any interest to you, Miss Dolina.”

  “I love history, my Lord, and I would rather read about the past than any other subject and I study the history of other countries as well.”

  As he was listening, Gordon guessed that Rosetta’s father must have taught her all this.

  The Marquis was intrigued.

  As he helped himself to the
first course, he turned to Rosetta and asked,

  “Tell me more, I want to hear what you know about my family, since you seem to know more than I do.”

  “I have not had the privilege of going round your Castle, my Lord, but I am told you own treasures that are finer and better than anything at Windsor Castle.”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “I like to think so, but actually the Royal collection is superb, but I should like to hear your opinion on mine.”

  “I expect that what Dolina is really saying,” Henry remarked, “is that she would like to go round The Castle. Do you realise that, although we live so near, none of us has ever been invited to your house.”

  “Is that true!” the Marquis exclaimed. “I thought you must have gone to parties there in my father’s time or when I was away exploring the world.”

  “I hope that you remembered to write down all you discovered,” Rosetta said, “and perhaps one day you will write a book about your tours, my Lord.”

  “If I did, do you think anyone would read it?”

  “I am sure they would, especially as you are so well known and so often in the newspapers. Readers would be curious to learn about your adventures overseas.”

  The Marquis was sharp enough to be aware that she was not being particularly complimentary and in a way she was rebuking him for having such a smeared reputation.

  It was something that he had never expected to hear from a pretty woman – least of all one who lived in the country.

  He imagined that she would know nothing about his affaires de coeur and if she did, then she would be too shy to mention them.

  “I think,” he said, “you are challenging me to make myself more useful to humanity than I am at present.”

  “I feel sure that you are very charitable in your own way,” Rosetta smiled softly. “Equally you must not expect us to know all about it here in the depths of the country.”

  The Marquis thought she was laughing at him and he became even more intrigued.

  He had never met a woman without realising that the moment she saw him she was aware of him as a man.

  Yet in a subtle manner this young girl, for she was little more, was challenging his brain rather than his looks.

  He felt honour bound to protect himself.

  “I tell you what I’ll do,” he proposed. “Tomorrow, when we have discussed the subject your brothers wish to raise with me, I will invite you all to The Castle. Then you will see for yourself if it is as wonderful as you believe it to be.”

  Henry gave a cry of delight.

  “Do you really mean that? You have no idea how much I have always wanted to stand on the Tower and find out how far you can see from it. I have been told it is five Counties, but I would love to see for myself.”

  The Marquis chuckled.

  “And so you shall. People who come to The Castle always find it fascinating.”

  “I want to see your collection of armour, which is always spoken of as being the best anywhere,” Gordon added. “My father said that some of the weapons you own are not even in the Tower of London.”

  “You shall see them all! Now, Miss Dolina, what is your particular interest?”

  “Almost everything you possess,” Rosetta replied. “But I am especially anxious to know if the portrait you own of Queen Elizabeth, which I am told is the best ever painted of her, was done during her lifetime. I am afraid I don’t know the name of the artist.”

  “Nicholas Hilliard and he painted it, I believe, in 1570.”

  “The Queen would have been thirty-seven then, and she must actually have sat for him!” exclaimed Rosetta.

  She knew, as she spoke, that her father would be so delighted at this information and even if she discovered nothing else, it would give him great pleasure.

  “I am wondering,” the Marquis continued, “if you know that I have an even more important picture than that of Queen Elizabeth.”

  Rosetta smiled.

  “I have been told,” she said, “that Holbein’s portrait of Henry VIII and his Court is the most striking Royal portrait in any collection, including the Queen’s.”

  “You are right, of course you are right, but I am intrigued to find out how you know so much when you live here quietly in the country.”

  “We actually have quite a good library,” Gordon said quickly, in case the Marquis was suspicious of Rosetta because she knew so much.

  Gordon well knew that history had never interested Dolina and as far as he could remember, she had read only novels. She seldom went into the library, let alone read any of the books their family had acquired over the years.

  “I feel sure that your sister will enjoy my library,” the Marquis was saying. “My father was meticulous about buying old books at sales. I must admit I have been more interested in horses than in books.”

  “That is just the subject we intend to talk to you about,” Henry began.

  Even as he spoke, he realised Gordon was frowning at him.

  Then, at that very moment, Barnes arrived with the second course and there was no doubt that Mrs. Barnes had really excelled herself.

  When dinner was finished, the Marquis called out,

  “Please give my compliments to the cook and tell her I have never enjoyed a meal more or eaten so much.”

  He had asked for second helpings of two dishes and Gordon felt that the kitchen would be dancing with delight at the compliment.

  As the dinner came to an end, Rosetta suggested,

  “As we are just a family party, I have no wish to leave you gentlemen to your port. I think, as it is late, it would be wise if we went back to the study and you told his Lordship, Gordon, why you have invited him here.”

  She looked at Gordon and he understood that she was worried that the Marquis would say he was tired and go off to bed and then perhaps in the morning there would not be enough time to discuss the Racecourse before he said he wished to leave for his Castle.

  “Of course you are quite right,” Gordon agreed.

  As Rosetta rose to her feet, they all stood up too.

  Gordon glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece as they left the dining room.

  He felt that Rosetta was being very wise and, as he had been anxious for the Marquis to enjoy himself, he had not realised they had talked for so long about The Castle and that time was passing.

  They walked down the passage.

  As they did so, the Marquis was thinking that no one could be more graceful and elegant than his hostess.

  He had, as he had said, heard her beauty acclaimed in London and he had only to open The Court Circular to realise she was at most of the fashionable parties.

  He had merely thought of her as yet another young beauty who would doubtless be married off to some titled gentleman before the Season was out.

  Perhaps in two or three years’ time she would be of interest to him!

  But, now he had seen her, he had to admit she was even lovelier than he expected and to his astonishment far more intelligent.

  The debutantes once they became married women were usually, he had found, extremely dull with little or nothing to talk about.

  The older women with whom he had spent his time were certainly not readers of history and they had no wish to talk of anything else but themselves and love.

  They walked into the study to see that Barnes had lit more candles than usual.

  When Gordon entered the room, he saw that he had taken the cover off the plans and there were extra candles round that table.

  He moved towards it and gestured with his hands.

  “This is the reason I asked you, my Lord, to come here. I think you will see at a glance exactly what it is.”

  As he spoke, he drew in his breath.

  It was almost like putting his head on a block.

  He would know in the next minute or so whether the Marquis was interested or not.

  The Marquis walked to the table and stared down at the plans and then he exclaimed, />
  “This is a Racecourse! I don’t know exactly what you want me to say about it.”

  “I want you to look at it closely, my Lord, because this is what my brother and I want to build on our land and yours.”

  The Marquis gazed at Gordon and then at the plan.

  “On your land and mine,” he echoed in a strange tone, “but why?”

  “First of all because it lends itself completely to a Racecourse and because Henry and I need the profits to keep our house going. We think it could also be of great benefit to the whole County.”

  “I have often heard people grumble because there is not one, but I never thought of building one myself.”

  “I should have thought,” Rosetta said very quietly, “it might have occurred to you, if you remember that your first ancestor to build The Castle, arranged races. Not of horses but of men.”

  The Marquis turned to look at her.

  “That is true, but I had not thought about it in a long time. And the steeplechases we have occasionally are very different from a Racecourse.”

  “But you do see that this is what is needed today,” Rosetta interposed, “because you and Gordon have superb horses and apart from your enjoyment, the people round here have to go a very long distance to find a Racecourse of any sort.”

  “I really think that it’s far too big a project for me to consider at the moment,” the Marquis began.

  As Gordon and Henry drew in their breath, thinking that they had failed, Rosetta countered,

  “I don’t think, my Lord, you have considered the feelings of your neighbours and the people living on your estate.”

  “What do you mean by that?” the Marquis enquired in a somewhat hostile tone.

  “There are few amusements in this County, except in the winter. Even the hunting and shooting cannot make up for the very long months when there is nothing to see, nothing to make people socialise with each other or for that matter to talk about.”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “I cannot believe that.”

  “It’s true,” Rosetta persisted, “and what I believe is so much more important, is that people in the villages are getting poorer and poorer by the year. I think the building of a Racecourse would mean a great deal to them and they would naturally look to you, my Lord, for leadership.”