The Incredible Honeymoon (Bantam Series No. 46) (4 page)

She knew when one love-affair ended, she knew when the next one began

She heard of jealous husbands who found it difficult to prove what they suspected, she learnt over and over again of women who proclaimed to all and sundry that their hearts were broken and that life would never be the same once the Duke had loved but left them.

It was as fascinating as some of the romantic novels that had been lent to her, not by Mr. Lowry, who would not have allowed anything of that sort in the Library, but by the Governesses who passed the long dreary hours when they were alone in the School-room reading of the love they were never likely to experience in their own lives.

Antonia thought the books a lot of nonsense, until she found that some of the episodes in them were much more true to the Duke’s life than ever she had imagined they could be.

“I wonder what it is that makes women go wild where he is concerned?” she asked herself.

She looked at the pictures of him hanging on the walls of Doncaster Park.

Although they showed an exceedingly handsome and fine-looking man she felt there was something missing, something she could not explain to herself but which she was sure was not portrayed by the artists.

She had, it was true, seen the Duke when he was riding on The Chase which he always did when he was staying at Doncaster Park.

But on Ives’s instructions she kept well out of sight, merely peering at him over the boundary fence and thinking how magnificently he rode, so that he did in fact seem to be part of his horse.

He was usually at a gallop when he passed her so that it was impossible to see his face closely or the expression in his eyes.

Antonia had always wished to meet him and now it seemed she was likely to do so, not to-morrow, for she was quite certain that her mother and father would not allow her to be present when he called to see Felicity, but later when the engagement was announced.

At the thought of an engagement Antonia’s arms tightened around Felicity.

She knew how this was going to hurt her sister and she could not help thinking from what she knew of the Duke that Felicity would be unable to cope with him.

She was a sweet, gentle girl, but as Antonia knew only too
well, extremely stupid in many ways and very vulnerable if she was not cosseted, fussed over and loved.

Would the Duke do that? And was it likely that he would want to?

“What shall I do, Antonia? What shall I do?” Felicity sobbed despairingly.

And Antonia found herself thinking of the Marchioness of Northaw.

CHAPTER TWO

T
he Duke was finishing his breakfast, which had been a substantial one, when the Butler came to his side to say respectfully:

“Excuse me, Your Grace, but Lady Antonia Wyndham has called to see you.”

The Duke was surprised into thinking that he must have been mistaken.

“Lady Antonia Wyndham?” he repeated.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“At this hour?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The Duke looked even more astonished.

“Has she come alone?”

“No, Your Grace. She has a maid with her who is waiting in the Hall. I have shown Her Ladyship into the Library.”

The Duke put down his knife and fork and lifted a cup of coffee to his lips.

He always ate a large meal at breakfast-time, believing it
to be important to his health. He preferred coffee to any other beverage and was never known to touch alcohol, however much he had indulged the night before.

He had made it a rule, and he organised his life on rules that he made for himself, that he would always rise early.

When he was in London he rode in the Row before it became fashionably crowded with the Ladies of Quality who wished to gossip with their friends and the Pretty Horse Breakers who were intent on showing off their mounts.

To call on him at half past seven in the morning was something which had not yet been attempted by any lady, however persistent she might be in pursuing him.

As he finished his coffee and took a last glance at
The Times
which he had propped up in front of him on a silver stand, the Duke was wondering what this early visit could mean.

How was it possible that the Earl of Lemsford’s daughter should not know that it was extremely unconventional, not to say reprehensible, for a lady to call at a bachelor establishment.

He was also irritated to think that she would make him late for his ride.

Already the stallion that he had ordered from the stables would be waiting for him outside the front door, and undoubtedly any delay on the part of his master would make it hard for the stable-boys to hold the animal.

The Duke therefore walked purposefully and without a welcoming expression on his face into the Library.

As he entered the room a small figure turned from the window and at his first glance he realised that the girl who had come to see him was not in the least what he had expected.

He was quite sure that the Marchioness had described her as having fair hair and blue eyes.

Had she not said that was the right colouring for a Duchess and would become the Doncaster diamonds?

Then as he recalled the conversation he remembered that in fact the Marchioness had said that the girl she had chosen for his wife was called Felicity.

The Duke looked at Antonia and was not impressed.

For one thing she was badly dressed in an extremely ill-fitting gown of faded blue
gabardine
and her bonnet, which was small and inexpensively trimmed, seemed to obscure most of her hair.

The eyes she raised to him however were very large in her pointed face and he saw that she was nervous.

“I hope Your Grace
will
...
pardon me for calling at such an
...
early hour.”

“It is certainly an original way of our becoming acquainted,” the Duke replied. “Am I correct in thinking it is your sister I am to meet this afternoon?”

“Yes,” Antonia replied, “my sister, Felicity.”

“I thought I had not been mistaken in the name.”

Then with a gesture of his hand the Duke said:

“Will you sit down, Lady Antonia, and tell me to what I owe this unexpected visit?”

Antonia sat down on the edge of a comfortable sofa and regarded her host with wide eyes.

He was far better looking, she thought, than he had appeared when she had seen him riding on The Chase, and now they were at close quarters she realised what it was the artists had not included in their portraits of him.

It was a raffish, perhaps cynical, but certainly mocking look which they had omitted whilst striving to portray his clear-cut features, broad brow and deep-set eyes.

“He is much more attractive than they portrayed him!” Antonia told herself.

The Duke had seated himself opposite her in a wing-back arm-chair.

He crossed his legs and she saw that his riding-boots were exquisitely polished and wondered if it would be impertinent to ask him what was used on them.

Then she remembered that Ives could find this out for her and she determined she would ask him to do so when she next went to Doncaster Park.

“I am waiting, Lady Antonia,” the Duke said with just a note of impatience in his voice.

“I ...
I think,” Antonia said a little hesitatingly, “and I
...
hope you will not think it an impertinent guess, that when
you call on my father this afternoon you will ask for my sister’s hand in
...
marriage.”

There was a noticeable silence before the Duke replied: “That was my intention.”

“Then would you
...
mind very much asking for
...
me instead?”

The Duke sat bolt upright in surprise. Then as he realised after a perceptible pause that he had not been mistaken in what she had said, he replied:

“I think you should explain yourself a little more clearly. I must admit I am wholly at a loss to understand what is happening or why you have come here with such a suggestion.”

“It is quite easy to understand, Your Grace,” Antonia replied. “My sister, Felicity, is in love with someone else!”

The Duke was aware of a sensation of relief.

“In which case it is quite obvious that she will refuse my proposal and there is in fact no point in my calling on your father this afternoon.”

He thought to himself as he spoke that this set him free from carrying out the Marchioness’s plan and she could hardly blame him if the girl she had chosen to be his wife would not accept him.

“Papa is expecting you,” Antonia replied, “and is of course extremely excited, and so is Mama, at the thought of having you as a son-in-law.”

“I can hardly marry your sister if she does not want me,” the Duke said, with a smile on his lips.

“You do not suppose she would be allowed to say so?” Antonia asked scornfully. “As it happens neither Papa nor Mama have the slightest idea that she is in love. Harry, the man in question, has not up to now been able to speak to Papa.”

The Duke looked at Antonia, a little uncertainly she went
on:

“You cannot be unaware that Felicity would be forced to marry you whatever her feelings are?”

“That is ridiculous!”

Even as the Duke spoke he knew that what this strange girl was saying was undoubtedly the truth.

He was too well versed in the social world not to know that as the most eligible bachelor in the country every matchmaking Mama would welcome him as a son-in-law.

Any girl he chose as his wife would be compelled to marry him willy-nilly, whatever her secret feelings might be on the matter.

It had however never crossed his mind in this instance that there would be any opposition where Felicity Wyndham was concerned.

He had not really thought of her as a person, but just as a complacent, compliant young woman who would be overwhelmingly grateful that he should condescend to offer for her.

“I am afraid I am not pretty like Felicity,” Antonia said, breaking in on his thoughts, “but as it does not really matter to you what your bride looks like so long as she fulfils her duties and produces an heir, I think you will find one Wyndham sister is very like another.”

The Duke rose to his feet.

“Who told you it did not matter what my wife looked like?” he asked sharply.

Antonia hesitated for a moment and he had the idea that she was choosing her words with care before she replied:

“It is obvious, Your Grace, is it not? You have not seen Felicity and she has never seen you
...
but you are prepared to offer her marriage and everybody has been saying for a
...
long while that you need an
...
heir.”

“I cannot help thinking this is the most extraordinary conversation to have with a young girl,” the Duke said. “Does your father know you are here?”

“No, of course not!” Antonia replied. “Mama thinks I am attending early Communion with Janet, who is our maid. It was my only possible excuse for escaping from the house when there is so much to do in preparation for your call this afternoon.”

“You really wish me to consider your extraordinary proposal seriously?”

“Why not?” Antonia enquired. “Felicity has cried all night and is making herself ill at the thought of marrying you. I have to do something to help her, and apart from my looks I would make you a better wife than she would.”

There was an irrepressible smile at the corners of the Duke’s lips as he asked:

“How can you be certain of that?”

“I would make no demands on you, for one thing,” Antonia replied, “and I would be quite happy staying in the country when you were in London. In fact, I would be very content to be at Doncaster Park.”

“And you really think you would like to marry me?” the Duke asked.

His question surprised Antonia into telling the truth.

“If I could ride your horses,” she answered, “I would marry
...
”

She checked herself quickly.

She had been about to say: ‘the devil himself!’ but realised it would have sounded extremely rude. So she substituted a little lamely:

“
...
the owner of them!”

The Duke had not missed her hesitation before the sentence was finished.

“You sound as if you know my horses,” he said. “I suppose, since you live next door, you have seen them?”

“I have watched them on The Chase,” Antonia said. “They are magnificent! Especially Red Duster. I think you have a winner there!”

“I think so too,” the Duke agreed, “but until a horse has won his first race one can never be sure how he will shape when he is actually on a course.”

“Ives is confident that he will prove to be as good as, if not better than his sire,” Antonia said.

The Duke looked at her speculatively.

“I have a feeling, Lady Antonia, that you have in fact a more intimate knowledge of my horses than you have gained just by looking over the boundary that separates our lands.” He saw the colour come into her face as Antonia realised she had more or less betrayed herself.

“I am
...
very interested in
...
horses,” she said not very convincingly.

“Especially mine!” the Duke said. “So much so that you are prepared to marry me for them!”

“It is not exactly like that,” Antonia said a little shyly. “Any girl would be deeply honoured at the idea of being your wife, but Your Grace must admit it is a little difficult to be sure of what a man is like until one has at least met him—or for that matter a horse until one has ridden him!” She knew the last sentence was impertinent, but she could not help adding it.

“And of course you know my horses better than you know me!” the Duke remarked.

There was a mocking note in his voice which she did not miss.

“I know you must think it very strange for me to come here and make the suggestion that I have. Mama would be absolutely horrified! But there was really nothing else I could do to save Felicity.”

Again Antonia realised that her choice of words was not particularly flattering and she added quickly:

“If she were not already in love I feel sure Felicity would have been delighted by your proposal, as any other girl in her position would be.”

“And if, as you say, she is in love,” the Duke said, “then the only alternative is for me to marry you.”

“I really would do my best to make you a good wife,” Antonia said gravely. “It is not only that I know a little about your horses, I am also very interested in Doncaster Park and all the treasures it contains. Mr. Lowry has told me about your ancestors and I can understand why you are very proud of them.”

The Duke did not speak and after a moment Antonia went on:

“I have not been well educated, except that I have read a lot.”

“No doubt the books in my Library?” the Duke remarked. Antonia realised he was more perceptive than she had imagined he would be.

“Quite a number, Your Grace,” she admitted truthfully, then added quickly:

“I hope you will not be angry with Mr. Lowry because he
lent me your books. I have known him for years, ever since I was quite small, and he realised how very inadequate my Governesses were to teach me the things I wanted to know!” The Duke did not speak and she went on:

“Because I asked so many questions he would often lend me a book on the subject. I was very careful of them!” Antonia looked at the Duke anxiously.