Love in the Highlands (3 page)

Lady Bracewell was talking to him now, smiling, indicating the young people. Lavina edged a little closer so that he could see her better.

And then he shrugged, turned away, and over his shoulder came floating back the terrible words,

"My dear Jemima, you must forgive me, but I have better things to do than romp with children."

From the mature heights of twenty Lavina could see that, as insults went, it was fairly mild. Since she had not made her debut she was, officially at least, still a child. So it was barely an insult at all, merely a statement of fact.

But at seventeen her sensibilities had been lacerated. Suddenly she became aware of her breathless state, her tousled hair, her flushed cheeks. She had behaved like a hoyden and now she looked like one.

Oh heavens! Oh, disaster!

Worse still, she heard the sound of a suppressed giggle from behind her.

Like every beauty she already had her enemies, girls of her own age who professed friendship but seethed with envy, and were secretly glad to see her crest lowered. And now they could laugh at her.

That night she had sobbed into her pillow and sworn that she would never, never forgive Lord Elswick as long as she lived.

Now, sitting in her carriage on the way to ask his help, she supposed she would have to forgive him. Anything was better than being forced into marriage with Prince Stanislaus.

But she wished it had been anyone but Lord Elswick.

The Earl's family had lived in Oxfordshire for five hundred years.

In 1390 King Richard II had made Baron Ringwood a grant of lands and money. The Baron had built a magnificent country house which each generation had improved upon in size and value.

In the Civil War the Ringwoods had been staunchly on the Royalist side, resulting in Charles II elevating the title to an Earldom. Ringwood Place was now an imposing residence with a grand exterior of white stone, and an extensive park where peacocks wandered, uttering their eerie screams.

Lavina had been born there, and she loved the place. Since she had been old enough to remember, the grounds, and the lake where she had learnt to swim, had always seemed like fairyland.

Now the prospect of leaving it, and the country she loved, filled her with dread.

How could her father persuade the Marquis of Elswick to agree to a fake engagement, when it was well known that he loathed women?

It came from the way he had been treated when he was very young. He was, in fact, not quite eighteen, and was attending Oxford when he fell very much in love with a pretty girl whose father had bought a house on his estate.

The girl and the young Viscount, as he was then, had met and fallen in love while they were out riding.

He had loved her madly, and been sure that she loved him equally. He was determined to marry her in the face of all social difficulties, including his parents' opposition.

But he had no money, except what his father allowed him, and if he married her he would be cut off without a penny.

Undeterred, he set the wedding date, certain that his father would relent. In this, he was wrong.

"But it doesn't matter," he told his bride. "What does it matter if we're poor, as long as we love each other."

But she had wanted money and the delights it would bring. On what should have been their wedding day, she had run off with another man, leaving her groom, abandoned and ridiculous, at the altar.

He had never got over it.

"I hate all women!" he had said once. "I trust none of them, and I swear they will never torture me again as I have been tortured now."

He became well-known in the county for hating women, and entertained mostly men at the castle he had inherited when his father died.

He frequently travelled abroad, but never seemed to form any attachments there.

In many ways he was a benefactor to the part of the world where he lived. He helped to improve the county and was a generous friend to a number of people who were in trouble, or too poor to look after themselves.

He was a member of several London clubs, and was popular with the men who frequented them. It was there he met those who waited on the Queen, including Lord Ringwood.

He was thirty-three, yet gave the impression of being older, because of the legends that had swirled around him for more than a decade.

"I really can't believe that he is going to help us," Lavina sighed as they discussed matters during the journey.

"He might, simply because he would disapprove of anyone being forced to marry someone they did not love."

"But would that overcome his dislike of women?" Lavina asked. "On the contrary, it might give him pleasure to refuse his help to a woman, and send her away to be unhappy."

The more she thought about it, the gloomier the prospect became.

At last Ringwood Place came into view. The carriage swung through the main gate for the journey through the grounds. There were the familiar trees that Lavina loved, the great pond, with contented ducks paddling on it. Even in her distraught state the sight of these well-loved signs of home had the effect of calming her.

As soon as they reached the house Lavina sent for the housekeeper and ordered a light lunch that could be served quickly. The sooner they were on their way to Elswick Towers the better.

Then she hurried up to her bedroom where her trunks had already been carried. Jill, her maid and Mrs Banty, her dresser, were already at work, unpacking.

Mrs Banty was a middle-aged woman with an air of imperious authority, whose pride was to be able to locate any of Her Ladyship's garments and suitable accessories at any time, day or night. That ability was to be tested now.

"I'm going to Elswick Towers," Lavina told her, "and I want to look utterly superb."

"The pink," Mrs Banty said without hesitation, pointing to a trunk that, to the casual eye, looked just like the rest. "It is in there."

In moments they had extracted a 'visiting' costume of pink silk, trimmed with four flounces, each surmounted by a band of purple velvet ribbon. The over-skirt was of a heavier, ribbed silk known as faille. This was a lighter shade of pink, trimmed with white lace, with purple velvet ribbon and bows.

Working like the expert she was, Mrs Banty produced the perfect accessories, a tiny parasol of the same pale pink as the overskirt, and a white chip bonnet, trimmed with purple velvet ribbon, and tiny pink rosebuds.

The ensemble was completed by the daintiest pair of black kid walking boots.

As soon as she had finished her lunch Lavina sped upstairs to put on the dress that Mrs Banty and the maid had lightly pressed and brushed out.

Reverently they helped her put it on. When everything was in place Lavina regarded herself in the mirror, wondering if this was all a dream. Surely there was a kind of madness in running away from London at a moment's notice, to throw herself on the mercy of a man who hated women?

But then she took another look at the magnificent creature looking back at her, and she had to admit that she was proud of what she saw. This was no romping child, but a great lady of the highest rank. She looked glorious enough to enchant any man. But could she move the heart of Lord Elswick? Or was he as heartless as the world said?

There was a knock on her door. It was her father.

"Are you ready my dear?"

"Quite ready, Papa," she announced in a firm voice, and walked out with her head up.

Down below, an open carriage was waiting for them, drawn by two white horses. The coachman got onto the box and they drove away, Lavina using her little parasol to protect her face against the brilliant sun.

It was twelve miles to Elswick Towers and the route lay across open country. England in summer was at its most beautiful, and as they bowled along the lanes Lavina vowed again that nothing would make her leave this place, no matter what she had to do.

Even if it meant enduring Lord Elswick.

Suddenly she sat up straight, her attention riveted.

"What is it, my dear?" her father asked.

"Over there, Papa," she said, pointing to a figure on horseback, about a hundred yards away. "Isn't he magnificent?"

"He?"

"The horse."

Horses were Lavina's passion and all her attention was for the animal, which was black and glossy, the most magnificent horse she had ever seen. His skin was like satin, and although he was a huge beast he moved as gracefully as a dancer, soaring easily over hedges and streams, galloping strongly and seemingly without effort.

Only belatedly did she look at the man, whom she realised was riding bareback without saddle, reins or stirrups, holding onto the huge animal's mane and controlling him without effort. He wore only breeches and a shirt that was unbuttoned, showing a broad, muscular chest.

At first she thought he must be a groom, but then something familiar in the set of his dark head made her heart start to beat more strongly.

"Elswick," she whispered.

"Eh – what?" her father demanded. "By George yes! It is Elswick."

The Marquis was in the distance now, getting smaller and smaller, heading in the direction of Elswick Towers which had appeared on the horizon.

As they neared it, Lavina could not help being impressed by the castle which had been restored and added to by the Marquis's father. It was a building of great splendour and magnificence, which cast Ringwood Place into the shade.

In the centre of the main wall was the huge keep, a tower with battlements, at the top of which was a flagpole, telling the world whether or not the Marquis was at home.

The pole was empty now, but as Lavina watched, the flag was hauled right up to the top. Lord Elswick had returned.

As they drove nearer to the castle, crossing the bridge over the stream which ran in front of it, she could not help but be impressed by the flowers which were a brilliant colour at the base of the walls. Also the huge beautifully carved portico over the front door.

The horses came to a standstill in front of it. The footman beside the driver jumped down and rang the bell.

As he did so the Earl said,

"Now, dearest, you stay here. I will speak to the Marquis, then send for you."

"No, Papa, I should come with you," she insisted. "After all, this concerns me."

"Of course it does, but it will be a difficult request to make, and I feel that modesty demands that you should not be present when I ask him to become engaged to you."

For once her gentle father was stubborn, and Lavina had no choice but to agree.

On opening the door, the butler seemed somewhat surprised to see the Earl. However he informed him that he would see if His Lordship was at home.

He moved slowly and loftily down the length of a wide corridor. After a few moments he returned to say that Lord Elswick would receive him.

He then led the Earl down a seemingly endless series of passages until he flung open a door and cried in a loud voice,

"The Earl of Ringwood to see you, M'Lord."

As the Earl entered the room the Marquis, who was sitting down reading a newspaper, put it down.

Rising to his feet he walked towards the Earl.

"This is a surprise!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were in London."

"I was," the Earl said, "but I have come to ask for your help in one of the most difficult and unpleasant situations in which I have ever found myself."

The Marquis had reached home only a few minutes earlier and was still wearing the extremely casual clothes he had worn for his ride. Hearing that he had a visitor, he had attempted some semblance of propriety by throwing on a jacket, but it was an old garment that looked as though it was normally worn around the stables. Which, in fact, was true.

At first glance it gave the Marquis the air of a groom, yet nobody could have sustained that illusion for more than a moment. His height and lofty manner, the haughtiness in his lean face, marked him as the bearer of one of the highest titles in the land.

His dark eyes were vivid and expressive, his mouth was wide and would have been mobile, save for the tense, stern expression that too often settled over it.

Now he spoke politely to Lavina's father.

"I am, of course, at your service. Will you have a drink? I suppose you have had luncheon."

"I had it when I returned home," the Earl said, "after driving from London at an almost incredible speed."

The Marquis raised his eyebrows.

"Good heavens, what can have gone wrong?" he asked. "Surely there has not been an accident at your house or anything like that."

"No, the house is all right and so are the horses, as far as I know," the Earl replied.

"But I have come to you on a very different matter. In fact, to beg your help, and if you cannot help me I think I shall go distracted."

He spoke in such a desperate way that the Marquis stared.

"Let me get you a drink," he repeated. "I'm sure the trouble you're in cannot be as bad as you think it is."

"It is worse," the Earl told him gloomily. "If you can't help me we'll have to leave the country as fast as we can."

"We?"

"My daughter and I. When I think what her fate could be – " he groaned.

"Good Heavens!" the Marquis exclaimed. "What have you been doing and how have you found yourself in such a mess?"

"I'm desperate," said the Earl. "So desperate that I'll do anything you ask, if only you will help me."

"Very well, sit down and let us talk, man to man."

In the garden Lavina wandered slowly, looking at the flowers. Then, leaning on the bridge, she gazed down at the water bright in the sunshine moving beneath it.

"I wonder how Papa is getting on," she mused. "He seems to be a terribly long time."

Suddenly she straightened up.

"I should have gone with him,' she thought. "How can the Marquis possibly make a decision like this? What am I doing, meekly waiting out here while two men decide my fate, and exclude me?"

It was also exasperating to have taken so much trouble

over her appearance, and then not to be seen. How was Lord Elswick to know that she was no longer the child he had scorned, if she let herself be banished like a – like a child?