The Marquis Is Trapped (5 page)

The Captain thought that the Marquis stiffened and he went on quickly,

“I have not had any chance to inform your Lordship before, but I was married last week to someone I have been very fond of for many years.”

“Married!  That is a bit of a surprise.”

“I wanted to marry her – she is also a Scot – some years ago, but unfortunately she had an ailing mother, who she has had to wait on hand and foot.  It was impossible to leave her, but she was not really ill enough to be accepted in a hospital.”

“I understand – and I suppose she has now died?”

“She has indeed died and it was a merciful release for everyone, especially her daughter.  So we were married last week in the village Church and I can only say to your Lordship that I am a very fortunate and happy man.”

“Of course, you have my congratulations, Gordon, but as I am very anxious to leave for Scotland immediately, would it be possible for Mrs. Gordon to accompany you on
The Neptune
?”

The Captain stared at the Marquis in astonishment.

“I will be travelling alone and it would therefore be possible for you and your bride to occupy one of the larger cabins than you would normally use.  I just cannot believe that, as a Scot married to a naval Officer, Mrs. Gordon will not enjoy the sea as much as we will.”

“But, of course she will!  It’s exceedingly generous of your Lordship to suggest something that would make our honeymoon very much more glamorous than anything I could offer or afford.”

The Marquis laughed and spread out his hands.

“
The Neptune
is at your disposal and I assure you, Captain, that I will not intrude on your honeymoon.”

“It’s just the sort of kindness, my Lord, that I might have expected from you.  As you are giving me and my wife a honeymoon we will always remember, I’ll strive to make the voyage as comfortable and pleasant as I possibly can for your Lordship.”

“You must tell me, Gordon, what you would like in the way of a wedding present, although it may have to wait until we return.”

The Captain thanked him again profusely and then he left hurriedly to make preparations for the voyage and to collect his bride, who fortunately was staying not far from where the yacht was moored.

The Marquis then rang the bell for Mr. Foster.

“As we have a bridal couple aboard,” he said, “the least we can provide is a wedding cake and champagne.”

“I have never seen a man more pleased, my Lord, at setting off on a voyage as the Captain was when he left just now and, as I have not heard before about his marriage, it took me by surprise.”

“I have often wondered just why the Captain was a bachelor and I thought that perhaps like me he wanted to be free.”

“From what he told me as he was leaving, my Lord, he has waited for years for this particular woman and is jumping over the moon now he actually possesses her.”

The Marquis did not say so, but he felt that this was the real love that all men always sought in their dreams but very few found.

He could not imagine himself waiting for years for any of the women he had made love to – then, even to think of them, brought back the menace of Isobel!

The sooner he was out of her reach the better.

The Marquis was thinking that it was time he drove to Marlborough House when the door of the study opened suddenly and the butler announced,

“Lady Heywood, my Lord.”

Isobel had called at the house a number of times on one pretext or another.

Therefore she was not shown, as would have been usual, into one of the reception rooms, whilst the Marquis was informed of her arrival.

As she now flounced into the study, he rose from the writing table.

He knew he had to be very astute if he was to avoid a scene.

“This is a surprise, Isobel!” he called, as she walked towards him.

He had to admit that she was looking exceedingly beautiful.

She was wearing a pink gown and a hat trimmed with pink feathers.  They were a perfect background for her dark hair and her sea-green eyes.

As the door closed behind her, Isobel ran towards him.

“I felt I had to see you,” she said, putting her hands on his shoulders.

She looked up at him.

The Marquis saw by the expression in her eyes that she was even more dangerous than he had anticipated.

“This is such a surprise, Isobel,” he repeated.  “But as I have told you before, it is a great mistake for you to call here when there is no one staying with me.”

“What does it matter what people say?” she asked.  “It would be quite easy, my dearest Oliver, to prevent them saying anything, if – ”

The Marquis was aware that she was about to say the words he dreaded.

Before they could actually pass her lips he bent his head and kissed her.

For the moment she was unable to speak and then he raised his head and remarked quickly,

“I am about to leave for Marlborough House and I must not be late – it always annoys His Royal Highness.”

“I know, my darling,” replied Isobel.  “But I have something
so
important to discuss with you and I promise you it will not take long.”

The Marquis realised what she was about to say.

He looked at the clock on the mantelpiece.

“I must go!” he cried.  “His Royal Highness wishes to have a word with me before luncheon and I am already late.  Forgive me, dearest, but I cannot stop any longer.”

He moved sharply away from her clinging hands to walk towards the door.

“But Oliver I must see you.  I
must
!”

“Tonight.  I will be with you at seven o’clock.”

The Marquis did not wait for an answer, but ran out of the study and into the hall.

To his considerable relief, he could see through the open door that his carriage was waiting outside.

He knew that Isobel would be following him, so he snatched his top hat from one footman and his gloves and stick from another.

Then, before she could reach the hall, he had stepped into his open carriage and a footman closed the door.

The horses began to move forward and, as he drove away, the Marquis looked back.

He could see Isobel standing just a little way from the butler with an expression of anxiety on her face.

The horses turned out of Grosvenor Square and the Marquis gave a sigh of relief.

He had escaped – for the time being.

He could only hope and trust that Isobel would not find out from his servants that he was leaving for Scotland that afternoon.

If she learnt the truth and that he was going there in his yacht, she would undoubtedly find her own way to his destination by some means or other.

Then he reassured himself that Bolton, his butler, who had been with him for many years, knew that he must never under any circumstances impart information about his Master’s movements without his permission.

If Isobel asked any questions, he was sure that she would receive answers that would give her no knowledge of what he was doing.

Once he was at sea, it would be impossible for her to follow him.

The Marquis reckoned, as the carriage drove down Piccadilly, that he had had a very narrow escape.

But he was not yet completely out of the woods.

Once again he was asking himself how on earth he could have been so foolish or so blind.

Why had he not suspected Isobel’s intentions from the very first moment he made love to her?

‘I will have to be extremely careful in the future,’ the Marquis vowed.

From now onwards, widows as well as
debutantes
were definitely taboo.

He arrived at Marlborough House just a little earlier than the other guests and the door was smartly opened by a Scottish ghillie in Highland dress who knew him.

“Good day, my Lord,” he welcomed him in a strong accent.  “It’s good to see your Lordship again.”

A powdered footman in a bright scarlet coat took the Marquis’s hat and a page in a dark blue coat and black trousers then led the Marquis up to the first floor.

The Prince of Wales was waiting for him in a room panelled in walnut with tall windows overlooking Pall Mall and greeted him warmly.

“I have been wanting to have a word with you for some time, Oliver, but we always seem to be surrounded by beautiful women who demand our full attention!”

The Marquis did not answer and after a moment the Prince gave him a sharp look.

Then he enquired,

“I don’t wish to be impertinent, but are you happy?  Isobel Heywood told me the last time she dined here how much she loves you and begged me to help her.”

The Marquis thought this was quite a familiar move by many women, as they were well aware that the Prince of Wales always wanted to be told a secret before anyone else – whether it concerned love, marriage or a question of money and he liked his friends to ask for his assistance.

The Marquis realised that this was the result of being treated so badly by his mother, the Queen, who deliberately excluded him from any of the decisions that concerned the Government or the Empire.

He was not even permitted to scrutinise the reports submitted by the Foreign Office, although he had been a great success on his visits to France and to other countries in Europe.

The Prince was frustrated because he was given no position except that of Heir to the Throne.

It was thus not surprising that he spent his time chasing and possessing beautiful women and had therefore gained the reputation of being a
roué
.

Because the Marquis knew it would please him, he replied,

“I have been hoping for a chance, sir, of confiding in you, because I am in a
most
difficult position.”

The Prince of Wales was immediately alert.

“In what way, Oliver?”

“I suspect,” he murmured choosing his words most carefully, “that Isobel Heywood wishes to marry me.”

The Prince raised his eyebrows.

“
Marry you
!” he exclaimed.  “I had not thought of that.  I know she is in love with you, because she told me so.”

“I find her very attractive,” the Marquis conceded.  “But, as Your Royal Highness knows, I have no wish to be married.  In fact I have a
horror
of it!”

The Prince gave a little laugh.

“That is not surprising.  But you are too handsome, too rich and too grand, my dear Oliver, for any woman not to think you are the ripest plum she could pick off a tree!”

“I am indeed flattered and honoured.  At the same time I have no intention of ‘settling down,’ as my relatives call it, and marrying some woman I have no wish to spend the rest of my life with, simply so that she can present me with an heir.”

“I understand, my dear boy, exactly what you are saying, but you will have to marry sooner or later.”

“
Later
is the better word, sir, and, as I am not yet twenty-seven, there is still plenty of time.”

“Of course, of course,” the Prince agreed.  “But I see that at the moment your problem is Isobel Heywood.”

The Marquis drew in his breath.

“I have so far been able to prevent Isobel, sir, from actually asking me to place a ring on her finger.  But it is only a question of time before I have to declare myself one way or another, and as Your Royal Highness will be aware, it will be extraordinarily difficult.”

“Of course it will,” the Prince said sympathetically.  “Now let me think.”

He put his hands up to his face.

As he did so, the Marquis remarked,

“I thought as my yacht has been newly renovated, I might pay a visit to Scotland.”

“An excellent idea!” the Prince exclaimed.  “I was in fact going to suggest something of the sort myself.  You could always invent some good reason for leaving quickly, if that is what you intend to do.”

“I had thought in fact, it would be wise to leave this afternoon.  The yacht is moored near Westminster Bridge and I can make an excuse for having to hurry away rather than dine with her this evening, as she expects me to do.”

“I do see your predicament and if things are indeed as pressing as you say they are, then, dear boy, you must surely disappear and contrive to make your departure seem as plausible as possible.”

“I felt certain that Your Royal Highness would help me,” the Marquis muttered.

The Prince made a gesture with his hands.

“I have it!” he cried.  “I know exactly how I can be of help to you!  I will ask Lady Heywood to dinner tonight and, when she arrives, I will tell her that I have received a message from you saying that one of your close relatives is on the point of death.  You have asked me to explain to her that you have had to leave London immediately.”