A Battle for Love

by Barbara Cartland

  She was silent, thinking about him and she knew that his portrait would soon be added to those on the walls.

  Later his son would be sitting as he was now at the head of the table.

  But Serla came up against an unjumpable fence.

  She remembered that the Marquis was determined, after what Charlotte had done to him, never to be married.

  ‘But he must be, he must carry on the name of the family and this house,’ she told herself.

  As she thought how wrong it would be if he refused to do so, her eyes met his.

  As they gazed at each other, she was aware that the Marquis was reading her thoughts.

  It was just as if Charlotte was there beside them.

  She was jeering at him for having been deceived by her.

  Serla was aware that he could see Charlotte just as she could.

  She knew, without his saying it aloud, that he was repeating over and over in his mind.

  “No! No! No!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Marquis laughed a lot over dinner.

  After it was over they moved to his study to see the paintings that they had been talking about. They had been painted by the great equestrian artist, Stubbs, and Serla was particularly interested in them.

  Her father had one of his earliest paintings and had longed to buy more.

  “There are two more upstairs in the Picture Gallery that you have not yet seen,” the Marquis said, “and I agree with your father that no one managed to make his horses quite so real as Stubbs.”

  They talked for a while and then the Marquis said,

  “I think that you are tired and should retire. I have just a few letters to write and then I shall go to bed too. Let’s hope it will be peaceful tonight.”

  “I hope so too,” Serla smiled.

  She knew that she was tired, but did not want to leave the Marquis.

  He walked to the door to open it for her and, as she looked up at him, he thought again how lovely she was.

  It would be delightful to kiss her goodnight.

  Almost abruptly, because of the feelings that she was arousing within him, he said again ‘good night.’

  Then he closed the door and Serla walked through the hall and saw that the night-footman had come on duty.

  He had a cushioned armchair to sit in and she knew that, as soon as everyone had gone to bed, he too would sleep peacefully until the morning.

  “Goodnight, James,” she called as she passed him.

  “Goodnight, miss,” James replied.

  Serla then walked slowly up the stairs to her room.

  She undressed and put on her nightgown and it was then that she remembered that she had not said ‘goodnight’ to the Dowager.

  It was stupid of her to have forgotten, but she had, however, been deep in thought as she had come upstairs.

  She was determined that she would ride early with the Marquis tomorrow morning and she had taken out her riding habit and boots so that she could dress quickly.

  She walked across the corridor and knocked on the door of the Dowager’s bedroom.

  Serla heard her call out ‘come in’ and entered.

  *

  When Serla had left the study, the Marquis went to his writing table as there was a large pile of letters that his secretary had left for him to sign.

  Mr. Simpkins was well versed in what he should and should not open and the Marquis had never bothered with bills, letters from Councils or requests for money.

  Mr. Simpkins coped with all these and he was very adroit in detecting those which were not his concern.

  Granted, as the Marquis noticed now, most of these were on pretty coloured writing paper, most scented with an exotic perfume.

  The Marquis glanced at them and then pushed them to one side as he recognised that they would all be full of reproaches because he had become engaged to be married.

  At the same time the writer would invariably make a suggestion where they could meet without her husband or anyone else being aware of it.

  ‘They bore me,’ the Marquis told himself and yet he did not want to probe too deeply into the reason why they did.

  There was a letter from the Secretary of State for War. which he had to read and one he had to write to the Prime Minister to thank him for his hospitality.

  When he had done this, he decided to go to bed and he shut the drawers in his desk and closed his blotter.

  As he did so, the door of the study opened and the night-footman announced,

  “Two gentlemen from the War Office to see you, my Lord.”

  The Marquis looked up in surprise and then, as two men came into the room, he rose to his feet.

  He wondered what had happened that they should come to see him so late at night.

  He reached the centre of the room by the time they joined him and the door closed behind them.

  Then to his astonishment the two men pulled pistols from their pockets and pointed them at him.

  The long years of being confronted by the enemy in Spain made the Marquis keep his head and his self-control.

  Without moving and without flicking an eyelid, he asked quite calmly,

  “Now what is all this about?”

  “We’ve come, my Lord,” one of the men replied, “to ask you politely to hand over the Darincourt jewellery.”

  The Marquis raised his eyebrows.

  “The Darincourt jewellery?” he repeated. “Just why should you want that?”

  The man smiled unpleasantly.

  “I’m sure Your Lordship knows the answer to that question and we requires it now and at once.”

  “Can you give me any good reason why I should hand it to you?” the Marquis asked quietly.

  “Because,” the man replied, “there be four of us all fully armed and you’ll find it ever so uncomfortable to say the least of it if you prefer to fight us.”

  “I would certainly not do anything so foolish,” the Marquis said loftily.

  He was playing for time and wondering frantically how he could reach his pistol. It was in the drawer of the writing desk that he had just closed.

  He was aware, however, that the man had implied that there were two fellow conspirators in the hall and there was no one except for the night-footman in this part of the house at this time of night.

  “I should be interested,” the Marquis said aloud, “to know why you are so anxious to steal the family jewels when there are so many other things in this house that you might prefer. And who is it who wishes to wear them?”

  He knew the answer only too clearly.

  He had to acknowledge, although it was infuriating to do so, that Charlotte had again caught him unawares.

  Far too late he realised that having, as she thought, disposed of Serla, she was determined that he too should suffer for what he had done to her.

  There was no woman in all of the Beau Monde who did not covet the Darincourt jewels and the Marquis knew that Charlotte wanted them as so many women had done before her.

  She had often talked about them and had eulogised about how magnificent the tiara was and how exquisite the rubies, emeralds and sapphires would look on anyone with a white skin.

  She was, of course, meaning herself.

  Skilfully he had managed to avoid, as another man might not have done, letting her put them on.

  He had on several nights when she came to stay at Darincourt made an excuse not to open the safes.

  He knew now what would be the greatest triumph of Charlotte’s life, she would steal the sublime Darincourt jewels from him and keep them for herself.

  She would not, of course, be able to wear them in public as they would be easily recognised.

  However, any jeweller could change the settings of the diamonds and the other precious stones and it would be impossible to prove in a Law Court where they had come from.

  The very idea of Charlotte possessing anything so precious was infuriating as the jewels had been in his family for generations and
the Marquis felt as if he would fight the whole world rather than lose them.

  He was, however, wise enough to know that he was at a great disadvantage. It would require all his wits and courage to save himself from the humiliation of handing over the jewels.

  Moving a few steps towards the fireplace, he said,

  “Now let’s talk it over sensibly. You cannot really mean to deprive me of the jewels which have been in the Darincourt family for over five hundred years.”

  “That’s what we’ve come to do,” the man who had been speaking before replied. “And the sooner we gets down to business, my Lord, the better.”

  Looking at him, the Marquis thought that he was a superior type of criminal.

  Such men were far more dangerous than those who were rough and coarse and he obviously had brains and a shrewd look about him that was echoed by his companion.

  That there were four men made it seem completely impossible for the Marquis to resist them in any way.

  He managed to walk over to the mantelpiece with their pistols still pointing at him and then he said,

  “Now, I think you must know or suspect that these jewels are not kept all together in one place. There are several safes and, since I have a large quantity of jewellery, what I suggest is you tell me exactly what you require. I will then know which safe to open and that will save time.”

  “We’re in no particular hurry, my Lord,” the man said with a smirk. “And, of course, a jewel is always a jewel whether it be the one we are looking for or perhaps one which is better.”

  “I still think it would be easier if I know exactly what you require,” the Marquis replied. “Or shall I say the lady you are taking all this trouble over knows which jewel will accentuate her beauty better than another.”

  The man gave an amused laugh and sneered,

  “Now come on, my Lord. We’ve got you up against the wall, so to speak, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Hand them all over and we’ll not trouble you anymore.”

  “It is not quite as easy as that. For one thing, I am trying to remember where the keys are kept and I am sure that you have no wish for me to arouse the household.”

  “You find the keys on your own,” the man replied, “or we’ll make it unpleasant for anyone who helps you.”

  “Frankly, that is just what frightens me. Now give me a moment to think things out. As, of course, you are well aware, I have been abroad for a long time and much of what happens in this house is new to me.”

  “According to the newspapers your grandmother was wearing the tiara two nights ago in London. So if you don’t know where it be, we can wake her up and ask her.”

  It was a threat, as the Marquis was well aware.

  However, he deliberately ignored it and sat down in a chair by the side of the fireplace.

  “Now while I am thinking,” he said, “why not help yourselves to a drink? You must have come a long way. On the grog table over there, there is everything that you might fancy while I try to sort this matter out.”

  The two men hesitated and then, as if temptation was too great, one said,

  “Well, we might just as well accept your offer, but don’t play any tricks while we’re drinking your health.”

  The Marquis chuckled.

  “I am not so stupid as to do that. Help yourselves, only leave just one for me when you are gone. I am quite certain that I shall need a drink and a strong one!”

  The way he spoke made the men laugh, but weakly as if they thought he might be tricking them in some way.

  They walked towards the grog table and they kept looking back to make quite sure that he was not moving.

  Or had managed in some way that they were not aware of to procure a weapon of some kind.

  The Marquis was, however, just lounging back in the armchair. It was as if he was entirely at ease, with one hand lying on the arm of the chair, the other on his knee.

  He was actually wondering if by some miracle he could open the secret panel and then, while the two men were drinking, he would be able to disappear inside it.

  It was, he reflected, the only chance that he had to prevent them carrying off the Darincourt jewels.

  Even so, he was afraid that if he made the slightest noise they would turn and shoot him with their pistols.

  He was watching as one man very carefully poured champagne that was standing in an ice-cooler into a glass.

  He was using only his right hand with his left still clutching his pistol. The other man, who had picked up the decanter of port, was doing the same thing.

  It was then, while the Marquis was wondering if he dare attempt to open the secret panel, that he heard a very slight click.

  *

  Serla stayed talking to the Dowager for a little time and then she said,

  “You must go to sleep, Grandmama, and me too.”

  “You looked rather tired last night, my dear, I was glad you did not go riding this morning.”

  “I overslept, but I shall tomorrow. I missed riding one of your grandson’s magnificent new horses and will not be so silly another day.”

  “There is no hurry,” the Dowager said, “the horses will be there for a long time.”

  “But I may not,” she sighed beneath her breath.

  The Dowager put out her hand.

  “I want you to stay as long as you can,” she said. “I love having you and I know that Clive does as well, even though he may not say so.”

  “I expect he will get tired of me just as he tired of those other beautiful ladies.”

  “I am praying – praying every night that he will not do so,” the Dowager replied.

  Serla looked surprised and then she answered,

  “That is very sweet of you. I love being here and I love you.

  She nearly added,

  ‘And I love your grandson,’ but knew that it was something that she should not say.

  Yet she guessed that the Dowager was aware of it and she put out her hand and laid it on Serla’s.

  “I like to think, my dear, that my prayers are always answered. I know that God hears them and He has been very kind to me in the past.”

  Serla bent forward and kissed her cheek.

  “I am praying too.”

  She wanted to tell the Dowager how she had prayed last night and how the Marquis had found her and so her prayers had been answered.

  But he had said that if his grandmother learned of what had happened she would be most upset and that was something he did not want.

  ‘He is so very kind and considerate,’ Serla thought. ‘Yet he will not make his grandmother happy by giving her the one thing she really wants, which is an heir.’

  Aloud she said,

  “Good night, Grandmama, and, when I get to my bedroom, I shall pray exactly as you have told me to.”

  “And I shall be praying here and I am quite certain that your prayers and mine will fly straight up to Heaven.”

  Serla kissed her again and walked towards the door and as she reached it she looked back.

  She thought how attractive the Dowager looked in the candlelight and she could understand any man loving someone who was so beautiful, whatever age she might be.

  Serla closed the door.

  And she was walking along the landing to her room when she heard the sound of wheels outside the front door.

  She stopped, wondering who it could possibly be at this time of night.

  The night-footman opened the front door and Serla could see that there were four men outside.

  She could not imagine who they could be and why were they calling on the Marquis so late?

  Then she heard one of the men say,

  “We wish to speak to the Marquis of Darincourt.”

  As he spoke, the four men moved into the hall.

  To Serla they all looked very much alike, but there seemed something strange about their appearance and she could not think what it was.

  They did not look like businessmen and they were
definitely not gentlemen.

  “His Lordship’s in the study,” the footman said.

  He spoke as if he was a little uncertain of what he should do.

  “Take us to him,” the man ordered.

  “If you’ll come this way, sir,” the footman replied.

  The man took a step forward and then he looked back at the two men behind him.

  “Stay here,” he told them, “until I want you.”

  They obeyed him without speaking and then they sat down one on each side of the hall.

  The footman and the other two disappeared into the corridor which led to the study.

  As they did so Serla saw one of the men open his coat and look down, as if making sure that something was there.

  She then saw what he was looking at was a pistol.

  It was then she realised with a considerable shock that the Marquis was in danger.

  The four men were armed and he was alone in his study. All the servants, apart from the night-footman, were in another part of the house.

  Without thinking, just following her instinct as the Marquis would have done, she ran into the boudoir.

  She felt for the catch which opened the secret panel beside the fireplace.

  The Marquis, she remembered, had said that most of the State rooms were connected with the passage on the ground floor they had walked down this morning.

  As the panel opened silently, she knew that she had not been mistaken.

  She groped her way down some steps and then she was in the secret passage that the Marquis had shown her.

  There was a faint light from the moon and the stars for her to find the way.

  Serla started to move as fast as she could towards the little Chapel.

  As she reached the altar she remembered the pistols that had been on the table beside it.

  The old ones, which were not loaded and the two modern ones which were.

  She then picked the loaded pistols up and carried them carefully in case she should pull the trigger by mistake.

  It was not far to the study and, when she reached it, she could see the door quite clearly.

  She could also hear voices.

  The Marquis was talking to the two men, who had been shown into the room by the footman.

  She heard him saying that they might like a drink while he thought about what he should do. Then she heard one of the men threatening him if he attempted to escape.