Authors: Barbara Cartland
“Cousin Muriel, who has been chaperoning me, made it obvious that she expected me to acquire a large number of proposals and to accept one of them before the end of June!”
Lady Violet's lips tightened.
She had always felt Cousin Muriel to be a rather tiresome woman. But she had not imagined she would be quite so foolish as to press the idea of marriage on Elva the moment she had left the schoolroom.
As if she sensed what her aunt was thinking, Elva continued,
“You must not really blame Cousin Muriel. She is obsessed with the idea that everyone in the family must make a grand marriage of some sort.”
She gave a little laugh as she carried on,
“When I told her I had no intention of marrying anyone, she almost had a stroke!”
“Did you really say that, Elva? But of course you did not mean it.”
“I
did
mean it,” said Elva firmly. “I do not intend to marry anyone unless by a miracle I met someone, as you did, who wants to travel abroad and who, of course, loves me as much as I would love him.”
“I was so very lucky,” admitted Lady Violet and I am sure, dearest, that you will find someone you love. But he is not likely to be sitting here in a cabbage field, nor will he drop down the chimney. You just have to be circulating in the Social world to meet such a man.”
Elva laughed.
“I do not believe you meet anyone intelligent in those stuffy ballrooms. The majority of men attend the balls simply to enjoy some good food and plenty of drink without having to pay for it.”
Lady Violet looked shocked.
“You must not make those sorts of remarks, Elva. People would be horrified if they heard you.”
“They will not hear me if I remain here, but they will hear me if I am in London!”
There was really no answer to this remark and after a quiet moment Lady Violet said,
“The parties which are given for
debutantes
are to enable them to meet many eligible and charming bachelors amongst whom, if they are lucky, will be someone they want to marry.”
“That is the way you describe it, Aunt Violet, but Cousin Muriel is very different. She said to me, âyou are a very pretty girl and you have money of your own, which is a great advantage. You must now marry someone with an important title to give you a place in Society that all your friends will envy'.”
Elva mimicked Cousin Muriel's voice as she spoke and Lady Violet could not help but burst out laughing.
Equally she considered it was a great mistake that such a comment had been made to Elva.
She was far too intelligent not to realise that this was what every ambitious mother hoped would happen to her daughter.
“Why don't we forget Cousin Muriel,” she now suggested. “Come back to London with me, Elva, and I promise you I will not make you go to any party you don't wish to attend. I am sure that before Edward and I have to leave for Madrid I can take you to some really amusing balls where you will meet extremely intelligent gentlemen. Although they will undoubtedly be a great deal older than you.”
Elva considered her aunt's invitation for a moment.
“If I come back for a week or so, will you really promise not to make me do anything I do not want to do?”
“I promise â ”
“Well that means I do not have to go to any balls! I do not have to go to
debutante
luncheons, and I can â ” She thought for a moment before finishing, “What I would really love to do is to be with Uncle Edward and his friends and listen to them talking about the situation in Europe and the trouble that is brewing up in Turkey.”
Lady Violet held up her hands.
“I can see that Edward would really enjoy having you with him, but while you may learn a great deal about the present problems of the world, I cannot imagine what will happen to you when we leave for Madrid.”
“I will come back here and ride the horses,” replied Elva mischievously. “I can assure you they are far more interesting and know a great deal more than those empty-headed young men who have nothing better to do than to dance with
debutantes
like me!”
Lady Violet laughed again.
“You are so incorrigible, Elva. Very well, and as it is only five o'clock and the horses have rested, we might as well return to London today. Edward hates being alone and we shall be there by half past seven if we hurry.”
“I will go and get myself ready immediately,” Elva volunteered. “Luckily all my London clothes are still with Cousin Muriel, so we can easily send a servant round to collect them.”
“I only hope she is not offended by your walking out on her.”
“Does it matter if she is?” asked Elva. “Papa gave her quite a lot of money for chaperoning me and I don't suppose he will want to have it back.”
“People might think it rather strange that you have come to stay with me,” mused Lady Violet, “and that of course would upset Cousin Muriel.”
“All we have to say is that I am staying with you until you return to Madrid.”
Elva paused for a moment before she added,
“After all I have hardly seen her all the time I have been growing up, so it cannot be a blow either to her heart or her pocket.”
As she finished speaking Elva slipped out of the room and her aunt heard her running down the passage.
She made a gesture which would have told anyone watching her that she found her niece impossible.
It had always been the same and Elva invariably managed to get her own way.
Because she was so bright and intelligent it was really impossible for anyone to control her, but equally she was afraid that the girl would find herself in trouble sooner or later if someone did not protect her from herself.
That, she admitted, was almost impossible.
Half an hour later Lady Violet and Elva set off for London in a comfortable open chaise drawn by four well-matched horses.
As they trotted off down the drive Elva sighed wistfully,
“I hate leaving the horses. They were so pleased I had come back from London and now I feel deeply that I am betraying them by leaving so quickly.”
“You will have to return very soon,” Lady Violet told her, “for the simple reason that your uncle and I are leaving for Madrid in a week or at the most in ten days time.”
“As quickly as that?”
“Of course what I am really hoping,” confessed Lady Violet, “is that having a taste of London again you may want to stay on.”
“I rather thought that was at the back of your mind, Aunt Violet. And the answer is
no
!
No
!
No
! I will not go back to Cousin Muriel and when you and Uncle Edward leave I shall leave too.”
Lady Violet decided that it was hopeless to argue anymore. At least it would pacify the Earl for the moment that Elva was at least back in London.
She tried to think of which engagements she had organised for the next few days. Whatever they were she was certain they would be with some of her husband's friends who were senior diplomats or politicians.
Elva would obviously find them interesting and she could not help ruminating that the Social world made so little sense whilst it continued to disapprove of women being too clever.
Girls were brought up primarily to be married and therefore it was a big mistake for them to be intellectuals as well. It only made them restless.
Of course, it was different for men.
At an early age they were sent to a Public School and on to University. Then they could decide what would interest them for the rest of their lives.
Lady Violet realised how fortunate she had been in falling in love with a diplomat. He not only enjoyed his work, but was treated with respect and deference in every country where they had been posted.
Lady Violet realised that reports on Edward sent back to London were outstanding and glowing.
The Prime Minister, William Pitt, had found them difficult to believe, but that was until he came to know Edward well. Then, like everyone else, he appreciated the quickness of his mind and treasured his sense of humour and all the original ideas he expounded on every political issue.
âI have been lucky, so very, very lucky,' she told herself.
But her marriage was undoubtedly a miracle which might happen only once in a thousand years. Men like her husband were hard to find!
They drove on with Elva beside her looking very lovely and Lady Violet could not but help wondering what would happen to the girl.
âShe is far too intelligent to be happy with anyone second rate,' she thought. âAnd she is too beautiful not to have a great number of men pursuing her.'
It was a tragedy that her mother was no long alive. The Countess would never have made the silly mistake that Cousin Muriel had made of telling Elva she must get married quickly.
âI will do everything I can,' decided Lady Violet, âbut there is very little time to do it in and Edward will be so busy before we depart for Madrid.'
She sighed deeply and Elva turned towards her.
“I can see you are worrying about me,” she said. “You are not to do so. I promise you I can look after myself.”
“I wish that were true, my dearest. You know it is impossible at your age. I was just wishing your mother was still with us.”
“I often wish so too,” answered Elva. “I know she would agree with me that I am right in not wasting my time with Cousin Muriel.”
“You cannot be so sure.”
“I am quite sure,” replied Elva quietly. “I often feel that Mama is looking after me and guiding me from Heaven.”
She was silent for a moment.
“You may think it very strange, but I was so absolutely certain when I ran away from London and came home that Mama knew what I was doing and approved.”
“Do you really think that she would approve of your leaving without any explanation to the people who were trying to help you? Even if you felt the way they were doing it was wrong?”
Elva put her pretty head on one side.
“You have a point there, Aunt Violet. I suppose it was rather rude and of course I shall apologise. In fact I will buy some very expensive flowers for Cousin Muriel tomorrow morning and send them round with a note in which I will be very humble and contrite.”
The way she said it made Lady Violet chuckle.
“Do that, Elva. And I suppose that you are really pleased with yourself for having got your own way and escaped for the moment! But now you will have to think very seriously about what you will do when Edward and I depart for Madrid. I know your father will not be at all pleased if he knows you have gone home again and are staying there alone.”
Elva shrugged her shoulders as if it did not worry her.
“Perhaps a miracle will happen, Aunt Violet, and in some extraordinary way I shall find myself in a part of the world I have never visited before. Of course strictly chaperoned even if it is by an elephant or a peacock!”
“Now you are making it all into one big fairy tale,” protested her aunt. “Yet perhaps, as you say, something unexpected will happen.”
“You never know. The man in the moon might ask me to visit him. If he does, I promise you I will accept immediately!”
As the carriage sped on Lady Violet was laughing.
The Prime Minister walked towards his writing table.
He never entered this particular room without glancing towards his father's portrait hanging over the mantelpiece.
Even though he had been Prime Minister for seven years, William Pitt still thought how inexpressibly lucky he was.
His father had been, without exception, the most famous British Statesman of the eighteenth century and his son, William, was the youngest man ever to become Prime Minister at the age of twenty-four.
Of course there were those prepared to say that his unprecedented success was only because he was the Earl of Chatham's son. Yet after listening to William's maiden speech in the House of Commons, Edmund Burke, the distinguished Statesman, exclaimed,
“It is not a chip off the old block â it
is
the old block!”
William Pitt was now thirty-one and the years he had been in office had proved to be exceptional in every way.
As he sat down at his desk and picked up his pen, the door opened and one of his secretaries announced,
“The Duke of Sparkbrook is here to see you, Prime Minister.”
“Please bring him in.”
The Duke entered and then William Pitt jumped up from the writing table holding out his hand.
“It is delightful to see you, Varin,” he said.
“I can only say the same, William.”
They were practically the same age and had been at Cambridge University together.
After their education was over William joined the Bar as a member of Lincoln's Inn, whilst the Duke, who at that time had no idea he would inherit the Dukedom, had begun his travels abroad.
Yet whenever they could the two young men met as their friendship was important in both their lives.
“I am not only delighted to see you again, Varin,” continued the Prime Minister they both sat down, “but I desperately need your help.”
The Duke held up his hands.
“If it means that I must walk barefoot in the desert or climb the Himalayas, I am just going to refuse. I have something rather more attractive to keep me in London at the moment.”
“I heard she is beautiful,” smiled William, “but are your women ever anything else?”
Anyone who knew the Duke was aware that his
affaires-de-coeurs
ended, as someone said, âalmost before they began'.
It was not surprising that the most beautiful women in Society were attracted to him. He was tall, dark, slim and extremely handsome. In fact it was difficult to think of any other man who could be so good-looking.
“Well, I can only hope,” the Prime Minister was saying, “that this affair will last no longer than any of your others, because I need you to do something which I cannot entrust to anyone else.”