An Angel Runs Away (4 page)

The Marquis did not speak and, after a moment, Ula said in a low voice,

“I-I am sorry if it annoys you – but you
did
ask me – and actually it is a – compliment that they think you are so – important.”

“It is a compliment I can do without!” the Marquis retorted. “Now, let’s get back to you.”

“But you cannot be – serious,” Ula said. “How could I possibly appear as someone – beautiful. Even if you were kind enough to pretend that you – thought I was, people would – just laugh.”

“I pride myself,” the Marquis said, “on having a very discerning eye. If I saw an uncut unpolished stone lying in the gutter, I hope, because I am an expert on such matters, I would know it was a diamond.”

He knew Ula was listening intently and he went on,

“The same applies to a picture that is dirty or damaged and has been allowed to deteriorate. I should still recognise it as a Rembrandt or a Rubens, however blackened it might have become with neglect.”

“But – that is quite different,” Ula objected.

“Not really and I consider myself an expert on beautiful women. What you need, Ula, is a frame which will exhibit you to the best advantage and also, like an actress on the stage, you need a producer.”

Ula clasped her fingers together.

“You make it – sound just possible – but I find it hard to – believe you.”

“I think what you have to do is to trust me. As I have already said, if you achieve what you desire, you will also help me to achieve what I want.”

There was a hard expression in his eyes as he remembered how Sarah had spoken about him and he added,

“With my reputation, my authority and my wealth, if we cannot make Social London accept you at my valuation, then all I can say is that I shall consider myself a failure and that will be something that has never happened to me before.”

“You have never failed at anything,” Ula said. “Your horses win all the big races and I have heard Uncle Lionel talk enviously of the magnificence of your house in the country, which even the Prince Regent described as having an ‘inconceivable perfection’.”

The Marquis gave a short laugh.

“So that story has been repeated in your hearing!”

“I have already said that everybody talks about you and everybody admires you.”

“And do you?”

“That is a silly question! How could I not admire anyone who has been clever enough to find four horses as perfectly matched – as these you are driving now?”

The Marquis thought with a slight twist of his lips that it was rather a different compliment from those he usually received, but he merely said,

“In which case, I must ask you again to trust me and to do exactly what I tell you to do.”

“And suppose I – fail you and you are – very angry with me?”

“I may be angry,” the Marquis replied, “but I promise I will not beat you. In fact, if you do fail, it will be my failure too, which I shall find extremely humiliating.

“That is something – which must – not happen,” Ula said passionately. “I could not imagine you – humiliated or anything but an autocrat sitting on top of the world – eclipsing everybody else – below you.”

“Thank you, Ula, and just remember that you have to maintain me in that position and not let me, like Humpty Dumpty, have a great fall!”

Ula gave a spontaneous little laugh and, picking up the reins, the Marquis drove on.

It was only as they came in sight of an attractive stone house with a porticoed front door and long windows looking out over a garden brilliant with flowers that Ula was nervous.

The Marquis did not comment upon it.

He was, however, aware of the tension in her slim body and that her hands in her lap were clasped together so tightly that the knuckles showed white.

It struck him for the first time that she had run away without gloves, in fact, without taking anything at all with her.

She was dressed in a plain gingham gown and she had over her shoulders a woollen shawl that looked as though it had been through innumerable washings.

He was aware also that her face glowed with a beauty that was not lessened by the plain ugly bonnet that was tied under her chin with frayed satin ribbons.

He liked the way, when he lifted her down from the phaeton, that she straightened her back and held her head high as she followed him into the house.

The old butler with white hair beamed at the Marquis.

“Good afternoon, my Lord! This is an unexpected pleasure! I know how delighted Her Grace’ll be when I tell her that your Lordship’s here.”

“How is Her Grace?” the Marquis asked, handing his hat and driving gloves to one of the footmen.

“Well, very well, but if your Lordship wants the truth, I thinks Her Grace is bored.”

“That is something I have come to remedy,” the Marquis said. “Will you take Miss Forde upstairs, Burrows, and ask your wife to show her where she can tidy herself while I have a word with Her Grace?”

“Of course, my Lord, of course.”

Taking command of the situation, which was somewhat unusual, Burrows said to Ula,

“Will you wait here, miss?”

Then he walked across the hall to open the door into the drawing room.

“The Marquis of Raventhorpe, Your Grace!” he announced.

Ula heard somebody give an exclamation of delight before Burrows closed the door and returned to her.

*

The Marquis walked slowly across the exquisite Aubusson carpet to where his grandmother was sitting in an armchair beside the fireplace.

The Duchess of Wrexham had been the greatest beauty of her day and her marriage to the Duke had been the most memorable social occasion of the year.

She had then become a leading hostess and the parties and balls given by the Duke and Duchess at Wrexham House had often been attended by the King and Queen as well as other members of the Royal Family.

Now, when she was over seventy, she found the quiet life she lived in the country very dull, after being feted, acclaimed and sought after not only by everyone of importance in England but also in Europe.

She was still beautiful, although her hair was white. As the Marquis appreciated, despite the fact that she was not expecting visitors, she was very elegantly gowned and was wearing some of the fabulous jewels her adoring husband had showered on her year after year.

“Drogo!” she exclaimed. “What a delightful surprise! Why did you not let me know you were coming? The least I could have done was to ‘kill the fatted calf’.”

The Marquis laughed as he bent down to kiss his grandmother’s cheek.

Then, pulling up a chair beside her, he said,

“I have come to ask for your help, Grandmama.”

“My help?” the Duchess enquired. “I thought you had come to tell me that you were going to marry that girl who has been so much talked about, Sarah Chessington.”

“No, I have not come to tell you that, but actually to enquire if you remember somebody of the same name who was Sarah’s aunt and who I believe caused a great scandal nineteen or twenty years ago.

The Duchess looked at her grandson in surprise.

“Are you referring to Lady Louise Chessington, who ran away the night before her marriage to the Duke of Avon?”

“You remember it?”

“Of course I remember it,” the Duchess said. “You never heard such a commotion as there was at the time!”

She chuckled as she said,

“It certainly took Avon down a peg or two. He was very puffed up with his own consequence and assumed that any woman would die with joy at the idea of being his wife!”

“Did you ever meet Lady Louise?”

“Of course I met her! Her father was the fourth Earl. He was an intelligent man and, actually, if you want the truth, he fell in love with me and my poor adoring husband was very jealous! But then he always was if any man so much as looked at me!”

“Who could help doing so when you are so beautiful?” the Marquis asked.

“Thank you, Drogo. But I am too old for compliments now, although I am still delighted to talk of those I received when I was young.”

There was a wistful note in the Duchess’s voice and the Marquis said,

“I have a story to tell you, Grandmama. But first I intend to tell you the truth about something which has just happened and it’s something I would not relate to anybody else.”

The Duchess’s eyes brightened and there was a note of curiosity in her voice as she asked,

“What has happened? I am also very curious to know why you are interested in Lady Louise?”

“That is what I am going to tell you – ” the Marquis replied.

*

When he had finished speaking and the Duchess had not uttered one word from the moment he started, the Marquis’s voice which had been quiet and almost devoid of emotion suddenly had a note of anger in it as he added,

“That is why, Grandmama, I have brought this child, Lady Louise’s daughter, who has been beaten and most inhumanely treated because of her mother’s sins, here to you.”

He had already related how he had picked up Ula in the road and the Duchess did not seem surprised at the story but merely asked,

“And what do you expect me to do?”

“I will tell you exactly,” the Marquis replied. “I intend to teach both her cousin Sarah and her uncle the Earl a lesson they will never forget.”

His voice was sharp as he continued,

“To do so, I want you, Grandmama, to dress her and make her into the beauty her mother was. I want you to present her to the Social world in a way that will make her not merely rival but eclipse her cousin.”

The Duchess stared at him, but her eyes were twinkling.

“A clever revenge, Drogo, if it is possible to pull it off.”

“That is up to you, Grandmama, and I know of no one who could do it better.”

“Is the child beautiful enough?”

“She is certainly unusual, but not in the same mould as her cousin.”

“That at least is helpful and I have never known you to stake your reputation on an outsider who did not win!”

“There might always be a first time, but I shall be very disappointed if I am not first past the winning post on this occasion.”

“Then let me look at your entry,” the Duchess smiled.

“I expect Burrows had the sense to wait until you were ready to see her,” the Marquis replied.

He rose as he spoke and walked across the room.

As he opened the door, he saw Ula in the hall inspecting one of the pictures while Burrows was explaining to her the story of how it had come into the family.

When the Marquis appeared, Ula looked at him with an expression he knew was one of delight.

At the same time, before she moved towards him, she said to the butler,

“Thank you for all the things you have shown me. I have enjoyed it very much.”

“It’s been a pleasure, miss,” Burrows replied and Ula ran towards the Marquis.

“I thought you wanted to be with your grandmother alone, so I did not interrupt.”

“My grandmother is now ready to see you,” the Marquis replied.

He saw a little quiver go through her and added,

“Don’t be frightened, she is going to help you, as I knew she would.”

They walked into the drawing room and the Marquis was aware that his grandmother was regarding Ula with a critical eye as she moved towards her.

Then, as she reached her and Ula curtseyed, she smiled and said,

“I am delighted to meet you, my dear. I knew your mother and you are very like her.”

“You knew Mama?” Ula exclaimed with a lilt in her voice. “Then you must have known her when she was such a sensation in London and people would wait outside the house for hours just to catch a glimpse of her.”

“That is true,” the Duchess confirmed, “but apart from her looks everybody loved her for herself.”

“Thank you for telling me that,” Ula said, “and you will understand how much I miss her – and Papa!”

There was just a little defiant note as she spoke of her father, as if she refused to allow him to be left out.

But the Duchess understood and she said,

“You must tell me all about them. I have often wondered if your father and mother were really happy and whether it was worthwhile giving up the important position your mother would have had as a wife of the Duke of Avon.”

“Mama once told me that she was the luckiest and happiest woman in the whole world because she had been fortunate enough to find Papa,” Ula replied. “Even when things were difficult and we were cold in the winter because we could not afford enough coal she used to laugh and say, ‘nothing really matters as long as I have Papa and you, dearest, for that makes the house, even if it is as cold as Siberia, a little – corner of Heaven because we are all together’.”

There was a break in Ula’s voice as she spoke and it was with an effort that she forced back the tears from her eyes.

The Duchess put out a hand towards her and said,

“Sit down, child. I gather my grandson wants to plan how to make you the success your mother was, which I am sure she would want for you. I don’t think it is going to be too difficult.”

“Are you – sure about – that?” Ula asked. “His Lordship has the fantastic idea that I might be an ‘Incomparable’, but I know how plain I look compared with Sarah!”

She hesitated before she added softly,

“Papa said once that no one could be really beautiful unless they had the ‘Divine Light’ shining from inside them. Perhaps that is something I do not have and only – God could give it to me.”

She spoke earnestly without the least embarrassment and the Marquis watched to see what his grandmother’s reaction would be to this very unusual young woman.

However, the Duchess did not appear to think what Ula had said was in the least odd.

She simply replied,

“I think we shall just have to hope that you and I together can please my very fastidious grandson and make sure, as he has just said, that you gallop past the winning post ahead of all the other competitors in the race.”

Ula laughed, and the sound seemed to ring out around the room.

“Is that what I am to do?” she asked the Marquis. “Then I do hope I win the Gold Cup, as you did at Ascot last year.”

“I am prepared to bet on it!”