Authors: Barbara Cartland
“Nothing,” was the reply, “except to make sure that Jason stays away from London and perhaps in time this will all be forgotten.”
“To think a woman like that will one day be the Chatelaine of Wood Hall makes me wish I was dead,” fumed the Duke.
There were no words with which Lord Lainden could comfort him.
Wood Hall had been in the family for five centuries and each generation had made many alterations and improvements. Now it was one of the most famous ancestral homes in England and its collection of pictures, furniture and silver was spoken of with awe.
The woman who Jason had married would reign there in state.
Worse still her children, if she produced any, would be an unthinkable insult to the Marchwood name.
All these recollections flashed though Della's mind before she asked,
“Why has Jason returned, Uncle Edward?”
“His wife has very conveniently died,” he replied, “and he has apologised to his father for his appalling behaviour.”
“Apologised!” exclaimed Della.
“I think the truth is that he has passed through a special hell since he married her and it is a great relief to him to be free.”
“Well, I suppose it is one step in the right direction, but I should imagine it is doubtful that his repentance is genuine.”
She spoke rather sarcastically because she had never liked Jason.
Of course he was very much older than her, but even as a child she considered him an unpleasant man.
He was not goodâlooking like his father and the last time she had seen him she noted that the debauchery of his life had left its mark on his face.
He had certainly extended the sowing of his âwild oats' for a long time and now she imagined, as the years had passed, he would look even worse.
She felt extremely sorry for the Duke.
Aloud she said,
“There is nothing you can do, Uncle Edward, so do not upset yourself over Jason, he is not worth it.”
There was silence for a moment before Lord Lainden resumed,
“The Duke has come to me with what he feels would be an excellent solution to his problem.”
“I cannot imagine what that can possibly be,” commented Della. “Although his wife is now dead, I expect he will still find another one who is unlikely to be any better than the last.”
“The Duke now tells me that he is quite certain Jason is telling the truth when he says he was tricked into marriage. He has now informed his father that he wants to marry sensibly and settle down at the Hall.”
“If the Duke believes that, “answered Della, “he must be a great optimist.”
“He wants to believe him and he asks for our help to ensure that Jason keeps his word. If he genuinely makes a new life for himself, it will be very different to the way he has lived in the past.”
“I would not bet on it,” said Della scathingly. “And quite frankly, Uncle Edward, I resent you being worried and upset by Jason.”
Her voice became scornful as she continued,
“He has behaved abominably as you well know, made his father and mother miserable and reduced a great number of his relatives to tears.”
She had a feeling her uncle was not listening, but carried on insistently,
“One of them told me when we were last in London how ashamed she was that Jason was her cousin. In fact she often thought that people looked at her in a criticising manner in case she resembled him in any way.”
“I can understand that, but the Duke is absolutely convinced that Jason has now seen the error of his ways and of course he wants so much to believe his son.”
“He will be lucky if anyone else does,” remarked Della.
Her uncle gave her a sharp look as if he resented the way she was speaking and then he said slowly,
“It is always a mistake not to help those who need our help. The Duke has a suggestion to make which I think we must both consider very seriously.”
“What is it?”
“He has said â that it would give him the greatest pleasure and inexplicable happiness
if you married Jason
.”
As Lord Lainden finished speaking there was complete and absolute silence.
Della stared at him incredulously.
“
Marry
â Jason!” she managed to exclaim at last. “You cannot be serious. After all he is old enough to be my father!”
“Jason will be thirtyâeight in a month's time and if, as his father believes, he is truly penitent of his past behaviour, the one thing that could help him more than anything else would be a sensible and at the same time intelligent wife.”
Della did not speak.
After a moment he continued,
“The Duke has always loved you and he has just said that nothing would give him greater pleasure than if you became his daughterâinâlaw.”
“You cannot really â believe I could â accept such a â suggestion?” Della managed to stammer.
Her voice sounded strange even to herself.
“I have not seen Jason for many years,” she went on, “but I always disliked him. From what I have heard about him â he is utterly despicable and the last man in the world â I would ever think of marrying.”
Her voice seemed to ring out jerkily.
Because she felt so agitated she rose to her feet and walked across the room to the window, where she stood looking out at the garden, but she was not seeing the beauty of the flowers or the blossom on the trees.
She was seeing Jason's debauched face.
She remembered that she had once slipped away from him to hide in her bedroom. It was not that he had made any advances to her, or even taken any notice of her, because she was only a child.
It was because she was so conscious that he was wicked and she had no wish to come into contact with him.
Now with her back to the room, she blurted out in a different voice,
“I am sorry, Uncle Edward, but you must make it absolutely clear to the Duke â that whoever Jason marries â it will not be
me
!”
There was a long silence until her uncle responded,
“It is not quite as easy as that.”
Della turned round.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, my dear, that the Duke has set his heart on this solution to his problem. He made it very clear to me that he is relying on our friendship for us to assist him or in his own words, âto save the Marchwood family'.”
“That is all very well,” stormed Della, “the Duke may be your friend â but he is not our relation. You can, of course, assist him if it is possible to find a woman who would tolerate Jason â but it will not be
me
!”
Again there was silence and she saw the worry on her uncle's face.
“You must not take it so seriously, Uncle Edward. You are sorry for the Duke and so am I, but Jason is his son â not
yours
.”
“I know exactly what you are saying, Della, but the Duke made it quite clear what he required and however strange it may seem, he is expecting coâoperation both from you and me. As he carefully pointed out we have accepted a great deal from him over the years.”
Della was astonished.
“What do you mean, Uncle Edward?”
“I obtained this house so cheaply that it was in fact almost a present from a friend. You have ridden his horses daily and we have been accepted on his estate as if we were part of his family.”
He paused for a moment.
“You are allowed to go in and out of the Hall as you please and His Grace's servants will take orders from you as if, as he pointed out, you were actually his daughter.”
“I do not believe he could have said all that!” exclaimed Della.
“He said all that and a great deal more. He made it quite clear that if you and I did not help him in this, the most important moment of his life, he had no wish to see either of us again!”
Della sank down into the nearest chair.
She was thinking that if anyone else but her uncle had said this to her, she would not believe them. But he was a gentleman who always spoke the truth, which was why he was always so respected.
Della recognised only too well what it would mean if all the comforts they obtained from the Marchwood estate were to be taken away from them.
It was not only the freedom of the horses, the fields and the woods, but the Duke's Home Farm that supplied them regularly with butter, milk, cream, chickens, eggs and ducks.
There was always lamb for luncheon if they wanted it and the bacon was homeâcured.
When she thought it over there were a hundred advantages that came from Wood Hall, and like her uncle she had always accepted them gratefully.
At the same time they had been inclined to look on it almost as if it was theirs by right.
Della had always known that the Duke could be a hard taskâmaster if he was opposed by any of his staff and yet because he had always appeared to love her uncle and herself, she had never seen that side of him.
Now he was determined to have his own way and she could understand why he wanted her to marry his prodigal son.
He knew her so well and, as her uncle had said, loved her.
She was aware that any woman Jason married would have to be strongâminded enough to make him keep to his promise of penitence.
Who else with these qualities was it possible for the Duke to find quickly?
âI will not do it,' Della told herself, but equally she was very conscious that her uncle was frightened of the future.
He was not a rich man now he had retired, but he was what might be called âcomfortably off'. He did not have to spend much money on living and he certainly did not crave for the expensive life, which he would have had to live in London.
In fact, he was happy here in the country â very happy.
Yet so much of his happiness depended on the Duke.
âWhat can I do? What
can
I do?' Della asked herself.
Her uncle was looking at her and after a moment he said,
“I have, of course, told Ralph that it was impossible for me to make up your mind for you and that Jason must do his own wooing.”
“You mean he is here?”
“He is at present in London buying himself some new clothes and as I understand trying to conciliate some of the family who he has not been in contact with for years.”
“And he is coming to Wood Hall?”
“In three days time when his father will send him here to meet you or if you would prefer we can go to the Hall.”
Della wanted to say that she would prefer to do neither, but she recognised it would be banging her head against a brick wall.
She was perceptive enough to realise that her uncle was convinced it would be to her advantage, as well as the Duke's if she married Jason.
She knew at the back of his mind he would love her to become a Duchess and she would have control of Wood Hall with all its treasures, and naturally the Marchwood jewels were legendary.
She could read his mind â he was thinking of the Duke's enormous stables with the magnificent horses she enjoyed riding.
Surely her uncle was not thinking that all these riches would be some compensation for losing her childish dreams of marrying the man she had fallen in love with?
âIf it is a childish dream,' mused Della, âit is still deep in my heart.'
She had always believed that one day she would ride in the woods with the man she loved.
He would love her and understand the stories she told herself. He would believe, as she did, that the goblins worked underground and the nymphs lived in the pool. That under the trees the fairies danced at night and left a mushroom circle on the grass.
All her fantasies would mean as much to him as they did to her and become an intrinsic part of their love.
She had known how much her father and mother meant to each other and she believed that one day it was the kind of love she would find. She dreamt of a love that would make any setbacks bearable, however difficult, because they were together.
They would always be happy and content and whether they were living in a palace or a cave they would both be facing the world together.
How could Wood Hall with all its treasures compensate for having to be touched by a man she despised? A man who had made himself notorious with the lowest women to be found in both London and Paris?
âI â cannot do it â
I cannot
!' Della told herself.
She knew her uncle was waiting for her to speak, not impatiently but somehow despairingly.
Once again she rose from her chair and walked to the window.
“I am afraid, my dear, this will come as a shock to you,” he said, “but of course nothing will be decided too quickly. But the Duke is afraid that Jason might change his mind and if he is bored here, he will return to France.”
“Does he really believe that Jason is penitent enough,” demanded Della, “to spend the rest of his life â in the country? It has never amused him in the past. Will he be content with one woman rather than the dozens he has been associating with?”
“The Duke wants to believe that Jason is being honest when he says he has finished with his past life. His unhappy marriage has made him realise he has been a fool and, as I have already said, he wants to settle down and have a family.”
Della shivered, feeling as if an icy hand had squeezed her heart.
“I, personally,” she told her uncle, “think that Jason will soon be bored with the life that we enjoy here. Then what will happen to his wife, whoever she may be?”
“She will perhaps have children to compensate for her husband, but I think, my dear, you are looking too far ahead. What we are concerned with at the moment is that Jason is really sorry for the trouble he has caused and the unhappiness he has brought his parents.”
He paused and with difficulty Della prevented herself from saying anything further.
“He has agreed,” he continued, “that he has associated with the wrong women and, in fact, after his three years of marriage he has no wish to see any of them again.”