An Angel Runs Away (11 page)

“Oh, of course and I suppose, as usual, you will win all the major races.”

“I sincerely hope so!”

“I wish I could come with you!” Ula exclaimed impulsively.

The Marquis looked at her and then he said,

“I never thought of it, but, of course, another time I will take you racing, especially when I am sure that my horses are going to win.”

“That will be wonderful!” she enthused.

But, as they walked out of the dining room, she had the feeling that tomorrow he would be accompanied by one of the beautiful women who had been at his side last night.

It was nothing he had said and yet she was sure it was the truth and somehow she felt suddenly lost and alone, as if no one really wanted her.

“So you will not be in to dinner tomorrow?” the Duchess was saying as they moved along the passage.

“No,” the Marquis replied, “I am dining with the Cavendishes, so if I don’t turn up at the ball, you will realise that the dinner finished too late for me to appear.”

“I understand,” the Duchess said, “and Ula and I must not complain, for you have been very generous in dining with us tonight. I suppose, unlike us, you do not intend to go to bed early.”

“I promised His Royal Highness I would look in at Carlton House,” the Marquis replied, “and after that I have several other invitations.”

He spoke slightly mockingly and again Ula was certain that the invitations came from lovely women who would be waiting anxiously for him.

She went up the stairs with the Duchess, who, on reaching her room, said,

“Goodnight, my child. My grandson is delighted with the successes of last night and how beautiful you looked.”

“Does he – really think – that?” Ula asked a little wistfully.

“He told me this morning that you exceeded all his expectations.”

She saw the light that came into Ula’s eyes and the sudden radiance on her face.

She did not say anything, but merely kissed the Duchess goodnight and went into her own room.

‘I don’t want the child to break her heart over Drogo,’ the Duchess murmured to herself, ‘but what can I do about it?’

When she climbed into bed and her maid had turned out the lights, she did not sleep at once, but lay worrying over the two young people who filled her life at that particular moment.

Ula had gone to bed with the Duchess’s words ringing in her ears and she thought that nothing else mattered if the Marquis was really pleased with her.

‘I must be very very careful,’ she thought, ‘to do everything he wants and not make any mistakes.’

When she said her prayers, she thanked God that the Marquis had come in time to save her from Prince Hasin and she added a little plea that she need never see the Prince again.

*

She had been told not to hurry in the morning, but to rest while she had the chance.

She therefore had her breakfast in bed and was not ready to go downstairs until it was nearly eleven o’clock.

It was a luxury she had never known to be waited on and be able to do exactly what she wanted.

All the last twelve months at Chessington Hall, she had been expected to be down as early as the servants, knowing that there were a dozen tedious jobs waiting for her which she had been unable to finish the night before.

She put on one of the pretty morning gowns that the Duchess had bought for her. This particular one, which was a very pale blue like the sky in the early morning and trimmed with
broderie anglaise
threaded through with matching velvet ribbon, was not only very pretty but also very smart.

As she walked downstairs, she took with her an attractive shawl in case when she went out into the garden the sun was not as warm as it looked.

She felt it was unlikely to be necessary and she therefore, when she reached the bottom of the stairs, put it on a chair in the hall.

Then she went as if drawn by a magnet into the library, hoping that today she would not be interrupted in her desire to read as she had been yesterday.

Because she thought that it reminded her of the Prince, she did not take from the shelf the book he had snatched from her arms and thrown onto the floor.

She chose another one, this time a book of poems by Lord Byron.

She had only just settled herself comfortably in the window seat and started to read one of her favourite poems, when the door opened and the butler announced in a rather strange voice,

“The Earl of Chessington-Crewe, miss!”

For a moment Ula was frozen into immobility.

Then, as she looked across the room at her uncle coming through the doorway, she saw that following him was a Bow Street Runner.

She thought her eyes must be deceiving her, but there was no mistaking his red coat and his official hat, which he carried in his hand.

As the Earl reached the centre of the library, he stood still and said in a voice of command,

“Come here, Ula!”

Because she was so frightened she rose a little unsteadily to her feet and walked very slowly towards him.

When she reached him, he looked down at her with an expression on his face that she knew was one of contempt before he said,

“I have come to take you back to where you belong and we are leaving immediately!”

“But – Uncle Lionel – I cannot do – that!” Ula cried. “I am staying here – as you know – at the invitation of the Duchess of Wrexham, who is – chaperoning me.”

“I am aware of that,” the Earl replied, “but you appear to have forgotten when you ran away in that disgraceful manner, for which you shall be severely punished, that now your father and mother are dead, I am your Guardian.”

“I-I know that, Uncle Lionel, but you – did not want – me.”

“That is for me to say,” the Earl replied. “Now, I have no time to waste in arguing, so you will come with me and my carriage is outside.”

He spoke so positively that Ula gave a cry of fear.

“I – cannot! I have to – stay here and if you want me to – leave, you must discuss it – with the – Marquis.”

“As I have already said,” the Earl replied, “I am your Guardian and, if you intend, as I suspected you might, to oppose me, I have brought with me, as you can see, a Bow Street Runner.”

There was a sneer on his face as he continued,

“He will take you into custody and you will appear before the Magistrates. They will tell you that as a minor you will have to obey me. That is the law.”

He paused as if he expected Ula to reply.

Her voice seemed to have died in her throat and she could only stare at him in a stricken manner.

“If that is what you prefer,” he said slowly and spitefully, “then, at the same time, when they make it clear to you that I have complete and absolute control over you, I will bring a charge against the most noble Marquis of Raventhorpe of kidnapping a minor – the penalty for which is transportation.”

He spoke maliciously, knowing that after what he had said there was nothing she could do but agree to go with him.

Then, as if he wanted to humiliate her, he said sharply,

“Well – what is your decision?”

“I-I will come – with you – Uncle Lionel.”

“Then hurry up about it,” he ordered.

He took her by the arm, holding her so tightly that it was painful and marched her from the library along the passage and into the hall.

The servants waiting there stared at them in astonishment and, as they neared the front door, Ula with an effort managed to say,

“Please – Uncle Lionel, I must say – goodbye to Her – Grace and fetch my – bonnet and shawl.”

“There is no need for you to make any farewells,” the Earl replied, “and I can see a shawl on the chair by the pillar.”

He pointed towards it and one of the footmen who had been staring was galvanised into picking it up and bringing it to Ula.

She put it around her shoulders and to enable her to do so, her uncle took his hand from her arm. As he did so, Ula made an effort to dash away from him and up the stairs.

He, however, had anticipated that was what she might do and he struck her sharply across the shoulders, causing her to give a little scream of pain and to stagger.

However, she regained her balance and did not actually fall onto the floor.

Then, as the Earl took hold of her once more and, dragging her through the front door and down the steps, he almost hurled her into the travelling carriage that was waiting outside.

He paused briefly to pay the Bow Street Runner before he entered the carriage, the door was shut and the horses started off.

Ula had a quick glimpse of the servants clustered on the doorstep to watch her go.

But, as she sank back on the seat making herself as small as possible, she knew that she was leaving behind the place that had been a Heaven of happiness and returning, as she had told the Marquis, to what was undoubtedly Hell.

Feeling that she must make one more desperate plea, she turned to the Earl,

“Please – Uncle Lionel – listen to me – I cannot – ”

“Be quiet!” he thundered. “I have no wish to talk to you until we reach The Hall, when you will be punished for your appalling behaviour. After that I will tell you what I have planned for your future. Until then, be silent!”

He roared the last words at her, then putting his feet up on the seat opposite, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

Ula looked at him and wondered how it was possible that anyone so cruel and callous could be her mother’s brother.

Yet frightened as she was, she knew that there was nothing she could do but pray that by some miracle she would be saved. Not only from the beating that her uncle obviously intended to give her when they reached Chessington Hall, but also from the way of life that had been so unendurable that she had run away.

‘Save me – Mama –
save me
!’ she prayed fervently.

Then instead of seeing her mother’s face as she usually did when she prayed, she saw the Marquis’s. He had saved her once. Could he do so again?

She felt her whole being crying out to him, telling him of her plight.

Then she remembered that he would be away for the whole day, first racing and then dining with his friends.

She was certain that the party included some beautiful lady, who would amuse him so that he would never give her a thought or have any idea what was happening in his absence.

She recalled that he had said he was dining with the Cavendishes and it was then she remembered that the beautiful lady festooned with rubies he had addressed as Georgina was the wife of Lord Cavendish.

As she felt agonisingly that it would be a long time before he learned what had happened to her, she knew that she loved him.

It was not a shock, but she knew that ever since he had appeared like a Knight coming to her rescue, he had filled her dreams to the exclusion of everything else.

‘Of course I love him!’ she thought. ‘How could I do otherwise, when he is so handsome – so magnificent and so – different from – any other man?’

Because she had been worshipping him as her saviour, she had not thought of him as being in the same category as the men who had paid her extravagant compliments or who incredibly had wanted to propose marriage.

She knew now why it had simply never occurred to her as possible that she might love them or in fact any other man. Her whole being vibrated to the Marquis and he seemed, like the sky, to overshadow everybody else until they shrank into insignificance.

‘I love him!
I love him
!’ she thought as the horses, by now on the country roads, moved more and more quickly.

‘I love him – although he will never know it and no other man can ever mean anything to me, however long I may live.’

Suddenly the idea came to her that if she had to escape again from the intolerable treatment she would receive at Chessington Hall and doubtless worse than it had been before, the only thing she could do would be to die.

‘Then I will be with Mama and Papa,’ she told herself.

But she now knew that she would be reluctant to leave the world behind because the Marquis was in it.

*

It took them nearly two hours to reach Chessington Hall and all the time she forced herself to think only of the Marquis. Somehow it gave her the courage to step out of the carriage after her uncle with her chin held high.

She saw that the servants whom she had come to know so well were staring at her as she walked up the steps looking very different from the way they had last seen her.

“Good day, my Lord!” Newman the butler intoned respectfully as the Earl strode into the hall and one of the footmen took his hat.

There was no reply from the Earl and Newman smiled at Ula as he said,

“Nice to see you again, miss!”

She gave him a piteous glance and before she could speak the Earl roared,

“You will come with me, Ula!”

He walked, as he spoke, towards his study and she knew with a sudden constriction of her heart that he was going to beat her with the long thin riding whip which cut the delicate skin of her body like a knife.

She wanted to scream, she wanted to run away, but because she knew it was useless and at the same time she wanted to behave with the courage the Marquis would expect her to show, she just followed her uncle.

He walked into the large study where he habitually sat, its dark velvet curtains seeming to exclude the sunlight even when they were drawn back.

He stood in front of the mantelpiece as Ula hovered just inside the door, as if waiting for his command.

“Now that I have brought you back to where you belong,” he said, speaking as if he were addressing a large audience, “I will tell you what I have planned for you, after you have been punished for running away and putting me to a great deal of trouble.”

“I-I am sorry to – upset you – Uncle Lionel,” Ula said, “but I was so – unhappy that I could not – bear it any longer.”

“What do you mean, unhappy?” the Earl roared. “And why should you expect happiness? You, an orphan whom I was charitable enough to take into my house when you were left homeless and penniless by your ne’er-do-well father!”