A Battle for Love

by Barbara Cartland

  The best band in London was seated on a small platform and as soon as Serla appeared they started to play a dreamy waltz.

  She thought it would be correct for her to open the ball with the Marquis as he was supposed to be her fiancé.

  However he had been delayed in the drawing room as one of his previous loves was flirting with him in the alluring provocative manner which was accepted amongst the older and usually married women.

  “I remember, Clive,” she was saying to him, “that you told me you had no intention of being married.”

  “That is what I had intended,” the Marquis replied, “but, as you can understand, I find Serla irresistible.”

  “And that is how I find you,” the lady retorted.

  She was, he thought, very lovely, but he had grown quickly bored with her simply because she had nothing to talk about unless they were making love.

  ‘Even the most delicious dish fails if one has it at every meal,’ the Marquis had thought when he left her.

  It was what had happened with quite a number of his affaires-de-coeur.

  As long as there was something mysterious as well as fascinating about a beauty, he was prepared to pursue her, but they all succumbed a little too quickly before he had really to exert himself to attract their attention.

  Then as quickly he found himself growing bored. And he knew what they were going to say before they said it. He knew every artificial movement they made and every little plaintive sound of their voice.

  He found himself yawning as there was nothing new, nothing to arouse his interest in them any longer.

  He moved away now from the woman who had been talking to him and remembered that his grandmother had said that the young were to go to the ballroom.

  ‘I must go and look for Serla,’ the Marquis thought.

  Even as he was about to do so, the Prince Regent and his party arrived.

  He had not come to dinner because he had already a party to go to, but he had arranged that, as soon as dinner was finished he would bring them all to Darincourt House.

  His Royal Highness was obviously in one of his better moods, laughing, talking and enjoying the crowd of men and women who were listening to him breathlessly.

  The Marquis took His Royal Highness towards his grandmother.

  He then paid her a dozen compliments in his usual charming style and insisted on meeting several people he had not known before and this prevented the Marquis from leaving him.

  He eventually managed to go down to the ballroom.

  Serla had already danced twice with Lord Charlton and one with another guest. And she was again waltzing around the room in Lord Charlton’s arms.

  The Marquis then drank a glass of champagne with some friends before he went back to the drawing room. He could see no reason why he should stand about waiting to dance with Serla if she was already occupied.

  One of the men he had been talking to told him that she was booked until the end of the evening.

  “In other words you have claimed my future bride,” the Marquis said jokingly.

  “Give us a fair chance,” another man replied. “You have had her all day today and you will doubtless have her tomorrow. Tonight she belongs to us.”

  “Very well,” the Marquis laughed, “you win.”

  He went back to the drawing room where the Prince Regent was asking for him.

  The moment he appeared, another sophisticated and very alluring beauty was at his side.

  “I am not allowing you to neglect me tonight, dear Clive,” she pouted. “Your grandmother has told me that there is dancing for the young, but I want to talk to you.”

  The Marquis knew what that meant and he flirted with her good-humouredly until her place was taken by yet another of his past loves.

  Serla had danced nearly a dozen dances until Lord Charlton then guided her through an open window into the garden.

  She had not had time to look at it before, but she was thrilled with the beauty of the Chinese lanterns on the trees and the way the paths were lined with fairy lights.

  There were seats in small discreet arbours and the young guests were making the most of them.

  Lord Charlton drew her under the trees when they came to the end of the garden of Darincourt House.

  Then he moved into the garden which adjoined it. The Duchess of Devonshire had told the Dowager that they were delighted for her to use their garden this evening.

  Most of the guests were not aware of this, although a small gate was wide open, they had not realised that they might go through it.

  Lord Charlton took Serla to where there was a seat made comfortable with cushions under a lilac tree.

  “I want to talk to you,” he began.

  “We must not be long,” Serla answered him. “As the Dowager is very busy in the drawing room, I have to be hostess in the ballroom and see that everyone is dancing.”

  “You need not worry about them,” Lord Charlton objected. “They are all capable of looking after themselves and I really want to talk to you.”

  In the light from all the Chinese lanterns overhead Serla looked very lovely.

  For a moment Lord Charlton could think of nothing but her beauty and then he breathed,

  “I suppose you know that I am wildly and madly in love with you.”

  Serla gave a start.

  “I did not,” she said, turning her head away.

  “I loved you from the first moment I saw you at Devonshire House,” Lord Charlton said, “and I have lain awake thinking about you every night and wondering what the devil I can do about it.”

  Serla did not answer and he went on,

  “Why could I not have met you before Darincourt did?”

  “Because I was not in London,” Serla said. “I lived in the country, but I was not very happy and all this is like a wonderful dream.”

  “I can understand that,” Lord Charlton replied, “but what are you going to do about me?”

  A memory flashed through Serla’s mind.

  Both the Marquis and his grandmother had said that she must eventually find herself a husband and that would be when she was no longer wanted in the charade that they were playing just to annoy Charlotte.

  If she now sent Lord Charlton away, then he might never come back.

  She had not thought of him as being in love with her and it was exciting to hear what he had just told her.

  As she did not answer, Lord Charlton took her hand in his.

  “I love you, I love you, Serla,” he said. “I want you as my wife and I swear I will make you happy. Will you run away with me?”

  Serla then thought of how she had already run away once and she had been so fortunate in finding the Marquis.

  He had saved her from her uncle and Sir Hubert and, of course, she could not let him down.

  However, one day, and it might be soon, he would have no further use for her.

  Tentatively and a little nervously because she had to choose her words carefully, Serla now said,

  “I am very flattered that you should want to marry me, but as you know I am engaged to Clive.”

  “But you don’t love him,” Lord Charlton asserted firmly. “I know that, you cannot deceive me. You may be impressed by him because he is a hero and is so grand. But you do not love him with your whole heart as I love you.”

  Serla knew that this was true.

  She felt that because he loved her Lord Charlton was intuitively aware that she greatly admired the Marquis and was extremely grateful to him, but it was not love.

  “I want you, Serla,” Lord Charlton was saying. “I will give you everything in the world if it will make you happy. So please, please listen to me.”

  “I am listening,” Serla answered. “But you know it would be just impossible for me to hurt the Marquis or do anything unkind.”

  “I suppose that he loves you in his own way,” Lord Charlton said grudgingly. “But it is not the way that I love you and I am quite sure in my own mind tha
t you will be happier with me than with him.”

  “You cannot be sure,” Serla argued.

  “I am sure,” he replied firmly. “He has had a great many love affairs and they never lasted long. Suppose he is married to you and then does not want you anymore and you learn that he is making love to someone else. What will you do?”

  “I cannot imagine it happening. Therefore I cannot tell you what I would do except to be unhappy.”

  “I just cannot bear to think of you unhappy!” Lord Charlton exclaimed. “I will love you totally and absolutely until we both die. Oh, Serla! Run away with me!”

  As he finished speaking, he pressed his lips against her hand kissing it passionately. Then, as she could not take it away, he kissed every finger.

  “I love you, I love you,” he kept saying.

  Serla looked at the lights in the ballroom where the music had stopped for a moment and she insisted,

  “I must now go back, please don’t make me get into trouble.”

  “You know I would never do anything to hurt you,” Lord Charlton said. “Promise me, Serla, that you will think about me tonight when you go to bed and every night until we can be together.”

  “I have not said that we can be together.”

  “But think about it. I must meet you tomorrow and every day so that I can keep telling you that I love you until you tell me that you love me and not the Marquis.”

  Serla rose to her feet.

  “What you have said – is a big surprise. I did not imagine that you would say anything like this – to me.”

  “There is a lot more I want to say. And you will have to tell me when I can see you alone. It will not be easy, I know that. But I must see you, I must!”

  Serla did not answer, but turned to move towards the gate that they had come through.

  When they reached it, Lord Charlton would not let her go past him.

  “Do promise me that you will let me see you again. Anyway give me another dance as well as the next one.”

  “I promise you that,” Serla said. “Please, I don’t think you ought to tell me you love me when I am engaged to the Marquis.”

  “It’s a free world,” Lord Charlton retorted, “and no one can stop me loving you. Even if I am not saying it, you are now aware of it.”

  “I will think about what you have said,” Serla told him in a small voice. “But please I must go back to the ballroom. I suppose that really I should not have come into the garden with you.”

  She vaguely remembered hearing someone say that it was very fast for a debutante to go into a garden alone with a man.

  Lord Charlton smiled.

  “It is too late now and quite frankly I don’t think that anyone has noticed us.”

  “The Dowager will be very angry if I do anything wrong,” Serla said again, “so please let’s hurry back.”

  She began to move quickly over the grass towards the house.

  “You are ridiculously lovely,” Lord Charlton said. “Tonight, you look like an angel or a Goddess and I want you, I want you all to myself.”

  “You realise,” Serla said, as they drew a little closer to the house, “I have to think about what you have said to me and please you will not tell – anyone else?”

  “No, of course not. This is entirely between you and me. But however many people there are talking about you and paying you compliments, remember that I am the one who loves you.”

  “I shall find it difficult – to forget.”

  She gave him a flashing smile.

  As she then stepped into the ballroom, she saw with a feeling of considerable relief that neither the Marquis nor his grandmother was there.

  That meant that no one would have noticed that she had been in the garden with Lord Charlton.

  She had meant to dance with someone else, but all the men seemed to be already dancing and Lord Charlton had his arm round her once again and, as they danced, he murmured,

  “I love you, I love you.”

  He said it over and over in time to the music.

  Serla could not help feeling that it was all rather fascinating.

  When the dance came to an end, he wanted to take her into the garden again. Now she was wise enough to say that it was something she must not do.

  Instead she danced with a rather dull young man.

  He told her a long rambling story of how he had lost his money at the gambling tables and his father was angry with him.

  She was relieved as Lord Charlton came to her side and insisted on dancing with her again.

  She was quite certain that this was something she should not do. However, there was no one else available and he was very persistent.

  The older generation had remained in the drawing room as the Prince Regent had said that he had no wish to dance and therefore none of them had left for the ballroom.

  As it was essential that he should be entertained, the Dowager kept moving different ladies to his side. The Marquis realised what she was doing and helped.

  He found it rather amusing to discover just how annoyed his previous lady-loves were that he had become engaged. They kept reminding him over and over again that he had always said that he would remain a bachelor.

  They seemed to think it astonishing that he should eventually have been caught by such a young girl, beautiful though she was.

  “I have always imagined you, dearest Clive, leading a sophisticated life,” one beauty said. “I remember that you are not only sophisticated but extremely fastidious.”

  “I have not changed,” the Marquis replied with a twinkle in his eyes.

  He knew that she was furious that he should have fallen in love with someone so young.

  He soon found himself carrying on the usual dual of words which he was such an expert at and every word the beauty talking to him uttered had a double entendre.

  The Marquis had heard it all before. Although it might be amusing, there was nothing at all original in what she was saying or in his replies.

  It was quite a relief when the Prince Regent, who never liked staying up very late, decided to leave.

  The Marquis escorted him to the front door after he had said ‘goodbye’ to his grandmother.

  “It has been a very great privilege to have you here, Sire,” the Marquis said as he bowed.

  “I have enjoyed myself. Say ‘goodnight’ for me to your pretty little fiancée and bring her to see me again. I was so delighted that she knew so much about my Dutch pictures. Tell her I have found another one which she has not yet seen.”

  “I will tell her, Sire,” the Marquis replied. “And thank you for your invitation.”

  The Prince Regent together with the Marchioness of Cunningham, who had come with him, stepped into his carriage.

  The Marquis bowed again as they drove away and then returned to the drawing room.

  “Do you want me, Grandmama?” he asked her.

  “I think in thirty minutes time,” the Dowager said, “you can tell the band to play God Save the King. If we don’t, the young will still be dancing at breakfast-time!”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “I am far too old for that.”

  “Not if you dance with me,” a beauty piped up.

  “Come and dance with me,” he suggested. “And then I will end the evening as my grandmother has asked.”

  “It has been a really wonderful party,” the beauty murmured, “and so it will be even more wonderful, Clive darling, if I can dance with you again.”

  “You have always been one of the best dancers I have ever known,” the Marquis commented.

  He recalled as he spoke that he had much enjoyed dancing with her, but otherwise she had been a bore. She was another of his affaires-de-coeur who he knew exactly what she would say before she said it.

  However, he then took her to the ballroom and, as everyone was dancing, he drew her onto the floor.

  As they went round, he saw that Serla was dancing with Lord Charlton. He thought vaguely that it
was what she had been doing when he had last been in the ballroom.

  She was looking happy and was obviously enjoying herself.

  ‘She deserves it after what she had been through,’ he thought, ‘and I hope that Charlotte is told how lovely she looks tonight.’

  “It’s like old times,” the beauty in his arms cooed. “Oh, Clive, I miss you so. There has never been another man I loved as I love you.”

  “You can scarcely expect me to believe that,” the Marquis replied. “I know there are queues of young men always waiting for you to throw them a kindly glance.”

  The beauty laughed.

  “That is what you believe.”

  She moved a little closer to him and whispered,

  “Gerald is going North tomorrow night and I shall be alone. Is there any chance of you coming to see me just for Auld Lang Syne?”

  “I am afraid it’s quite impossible. My grandmother has plans for Serla and me and I could not upset her.”

  The beauty sighed.

  “If I give you a key,” she said after a moment, “you can let yourself in however late you are.”

  The Marquis did not answer.

  He merely swung her round and then, as the band stopped, he told them to play God Save the King.

  As they did so, the young guests protested.

  “It’s still quite early. How can you turn us away so soon when this is such a wonderful party?”

  The Marquis was well aware that most of them had enjoyed it so much because the chaperones had remained upstairs and they had not been watched all the time they were dancing as at most balls.

  “I am sorry,” he said, “my grandmother is getting old and she must not stay up very late. But we will give another party soon.”

  Serla came to his side and he said in a low voice,

  “We will go ahead and be ready to say ‘goodbye’ to the guests as they leave.”

  “Yes, of course,” she answered.

  They walked quickly back to the drawing room and did not speak until they reached it.

  Only a few of the older generation were still talking to the Dowager and, when they saw the Marquis and Serla, they said ‘goodbye’.

  The Marquis saw them to the front door and then the younger guests collected their cloaks and hats.

  “It’s the best party I have ever been to,” they said over and over again to the Dowager and the Marquis.