Vintage Love (41 page)

Enid’s mind slid back to that last discussion at her parents’ home in distant Surrey. The picturesque old country house on the vast Henson estate seemed very dear to her now. And so did her parents.

She had stood by her father’s bedside, opposite her mother, who had sat holding Lord Alfred’s hand. Lady Caroline, an older edition of Enid, was still a beauty in middle age. Her dark blue eyes had showed concern as she had asked Enid, “Are you completely certain about this marriage, my dear?”

“Yes, I am,” Enid had replied quietly.

Her father, prematurely aged by the stroke that had disabled his left side, had murmured, “You must not do it for our sake, though Andrew has been quite generous to us.”

“The young man has more money than he knows what to do with,” Lady Caroline had told her husband. “And remember, you and Andrew’s father were close friends. If his father were alive today, he would gladly tide you over this difficult time.”

Lord Alfred had sighed. “If I could regain my strength, I might be able to recoup some of the losses I incurred from the latest South Seas venture. I fear we have another South Sea Bubble on our hands—nearly seventy years after the original!” He had laughed without humor. “My problem is to delay disaster until I have a chance to gather something out of the rubble.”

Enid had known that the doctor had only the faintest hope for her father’s recovery. “You must not worry,” she had said. “I like Andrew well enough. He is not my ideal, but he is attractive and popular, and he seems to like me. I could wait a long time and not make as good a match.”

“That is very sensible thinking,” her father had agreed.

“Besides, I have more than reached a marriageable age. Am I not already twenty years old?”

“It is my opinion that marriage should be entered into only for love,” Lady Caroline had demurred wistfully.

Enid had smiled wryly. “I haven’t said I don’t love him, Mother.”

“I see it in your face, child.”

To this her father had added his concern. “You must be frank with us, my dear. You are more important to us than anything else. Even if we had to sell this place and live in one of the cottages, it would be preferable to your making an unhappy match.”

Enid had given him a determined look. “I’m sure I can make Andrew happy and all will be well.”

Lady Caroline had risen and kissed her. “You have always been a dutiful daughter and a comfort to us.”

Enid had smiled at her mother and kissed her father on the forehead. “Neither of you must worry. I think it best that we follow Andrew’s plan that he and I be married in Paris. It will save you both concern and expense.”

“But to be married in a foreign city without anyone there of your own!” Lady Caroline had lamented.

“I shall have Lucinda stand up for me. We were the best of friends before she married Duke d’Orsay and went to live in Versailles.”

“I had forgotten about Lucinda,” her mother had said, looking less upset. “She would be an excellent choice, of course, and in a way would represent your family and your English friends.”

“I shall write her.” But Enid never had. Andrew had protested the idea immediately. He had insisted that the vicomte, who was giving them his house, make all the wedding arrangements. And because of her blind faith in him, she had agreed, not realizing what lay ahead of her. But she had been optimistic about so many things in those days.

She shook herself out of her reverie when a maid arrived with a tray of savory food and drink and placed it on a small oak table. Enid felt little like eating, but she forced herself to partake of some nourishment. At the same time she tried to determine how best to deal with her plight. She came to a rather surprising conclusion.

Perhaps if she ignored her husband’s failing and showed faith in him, in time he would reconsider his unhappy way of life and turn to her as he should have from the beginning. The more she pondered this, the more it seemed to make sense. Patience, she told herself, is a necessity now.

When she had finished the meal, she decided to tell Andrew that she would try to make the best of things if, in his turn, he would promise to give her some consideration. She fixed her hair, arranged her yellow gown to its most becoming state, and left her chamber.

In the hallway she met the vicomte, who bowed and said, “I trust you are feeling better, Lady Enid.”

“Much better,” she replied. “I’m on my way to tell my husband I no longer object to remaining here for a while.”

Claude looked uneasy. “I’m most pleased to hear this. But perhaps it would be better to wait until later to discuss this with Andrew.”

“I think it best to get it over with at once,” she told the slender young nobleman. “We parted earlier with bitter words.”

The vicomte continued to appear uncomfortable. “I strongly advise that you let it go until the morning, Lady Enid.”

Enid shook her head. “My mind is made up. I must speak to him now. The longer the harsh words remain between us, the more harm will be done.”

Claude shrugged. “Then you must do as you wish.”

She thought his manner strange, but then, he was a rather peculiar individual. She moved on until she reached the door to Andrew’s room. She knocked on it gently and then, with a smile on her lovely face, opened it.

What she saw made her smile swiftly change into a look of horror. On her husband’s bed were Andrew and one of the male servants. Both were nude, locked in a sexual embrace. They did not even seem aware of her, so deeply involved were they in their amorous bout. Enid quickly closed the door and stood outside it for a moment, stunned beyond belief.

She understood now why Claude had been so unwilling for her to intrude on her husband. He had known! Until this moment she had thought she could accept the lifestyle of the man she had married, but now that she had confronted it, she realized she could never condone what was to her an ugly, sordid business.

Her one driving thought was to escape from the chateau and all that it symbolized. She returned to her room and wrote Andrew a lengthy note outlining her feelings. Then she set about packing one of her large valises. This done, she went downstairs to seek out the vicomte. She found him reclining on a mauve silk divan in the drawing room, holding the hand of one of the younger and more attractive servant boys.

“May I intrude?” she asked.

The vicomte rose hastily, and the youth immediately departed.

“Yes, dear lady?” the vicomte said.

“I understand now why you wished me to delay talking to Andrew.”

He sighed. “I tried to prevent your coming upon him.”

“I appreciate that. But I believe it is better that I discover the truth bluntly. Therefore, I cannot remain here after all.”

“Where will you go?”

“Andrew suggested a hotel or a visit to my friend in Versailles. I have decided on the latter. While she is not expecting me, I know she will welcome me for a short visit. By that time Andrew will no doubt be ready to return to England, and he can escort me back to London.”

“You do not plan to break with him completely?”

She hesitated a moment. “I dare not as yet. My parents need his help, so I will play the role of his wife as he wishes. But I won’t remain here to witness his antics.”

“You will be faced with the same problem back in London,” the vicomte warned her.

“I will count on his being more discreet in England,” she replied. “At any rate, that is something I will deal with later. In the meantime, will you please give him this envelope with my note enclosed?”

“Gladly.”

“One thing more. I will need a carriage to take me to Versailles.”

Claude nodded. “I can manage that easily, though it will take a little time to arrange. Let me caution you that making the journey by night could be dangerous.”

“I shall risk it.”

“Very well. I will have the carriage ready in an hour, and a driver whom I trust to look after you. But you must allow several hours for the trip, especially at night. You won’t arrive there until dawn.”

“As long as I am on my way,” Enid told him firmly.

“It would be wiser to leave at dawn than to ride through the night,” he advised.

“I prefer to take the risk to remaining here.”

He shrugged. “Well, you know best. I shall look after the carriage at once.”

An hour later Enid returned downstairs, dressed in a gray cloak with a silver fox hood, and carrying her valise. Claude was waiting for her in the reception hall. There was no sign of Andrew, who she assumed was still in bed with the male servant.

“I planned to send someone up to get your bag,” the vicomte said.

“I’m quite capable of carrying it, thank you anyway.” Enid tossed her gold curls. “I was brought up on a country estate and have led an outdoor life.”

“I can see that,” the nobleman remarked. “So now you will visit the town where our king has his palace. Louis and Marie Antoinette have resided in Versailles all through their reign.”

“I am aware of that. Is my carriage outside?”

“It will be in a moment,” he said. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider this step?”

She gave him a sharp look. “I do not see my husband here to argue with me.”

“He does not know of your plan to depart. I didn’t dare to intrude on him.”

“I understand. And I’m fully determined to do as I told you earlier.”

“I will deliver your note,” he promised. After a moment’s pause he went on. “I have been at the court in Versailles and have talked with the king and his Marie.”

“Indeed?”

“I’m a friend of Louis’s cousin Philippe d’Orléans … Who is the lady you intend to visit?”

“She is the wife of Duke Victor d’Orsay.”

“Ah, yes.” The vicomte nodded. “They have a fine estate not far from the palace. The d’Orsays are an old family with a great deal of money. True aristocrats!”

“So I have heard.”

The vicomte sighed. “But time may be running short for us aristocrats. The common people are in a turmoil. The American Revolution has offered a dangerous precedent. There is growing talk of a revolution in France, and if all goes well with the American Colonies, I fully believe the idea of rising against the French government will become a reality.”

“I did not know there was so much unrest here.”

“Nations, like individuals, have their problems,” Claude pointed out sagely. “Accordingly, I hope you will accept my apologies for last night. I felt it was what Andrew wanted.”

“Do you always obey his wishes?”

Red tints darkened the cheeks of the young nobleman. “Your husband is very close to me,” he admitted.

“So he informed me,” Enid said coldly.

The sound of neighing horses reached their ears, and Claude appeared vastly relieved. “That will be your carriage,” he told her.

“Then I shall bid you farewell.”

He hesitated by the door. “Let me warn you once again that you are embarking on an imprudent course. The roads at night are beset by highwaymen, so I have instructed the driver to carry a musket for protection. I wish you a safe journey.”

“Thank you.”

The vicomte took her valise and opened the door for her to precede him down the stone steps. The closed black carriage waiting in the circular drive was trimmed with elegant brass fittings and drawn by two sturdy-looking roans.

The driver, a stalwart middle-aged man, gave Enid a glance of sheer curiosity as she nodded to him and entered the vehicle. He took the bag from the vicomte and placed it on the floor by her feet.

“If the lady wishes anything or wants to speak to me during the journey,” the driver told her, “there is a small window hatch which opens directly behind my seat above.”

“I shall remember that,” she said, looking out at him. “Are you familiar with the road to Versailles?”

“Yes, madam,” he replied. “Though I would just as soon travel it by daylight.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you also afraid of footpads?”

“There are many about, madam.”

“Tonight we shall hope to elude them.”

“Yes, madam.”

The vicomte stepped forward. “Good luck!”

“Thank you,” she said.

The spring night air held a slight drizzle as the carriage headed down the long path to the main road. Enid sat back as the heavy wheels clattered over the cobblestones of Paris. After a long while they reached the open country.

She was beyond any feeling of grief. Her one desire was to hold on until she reached a safe haven in Lucinda’s home. Huddled in a corner, her mind full of desolate thoughts, she was gradually lulled into a light sleep.

Only moments later a rapping sound awakened her, and it took her a full minute to realize that the driver was knocking on the rain-spattered hatch from the outside. She quickly opened the small pane and asked, “What is it?”

“Trouble, madam,” was his reply. “We are being trailed by a horseman.”

“A single horseman?”

“Yes. A highwayman, no doubt.” The driver’s voice was tense. “And I thought you should know he is gaining on us.”

“What will you do?”

“Deal with him as best I can. Lash the horses on, for a start. Sit back in your seat, madam!”

“I will,” she promised. A small clutch of panic rose in her throat as the driver urged the horses on and the carriage rumbled forward at a reckless speed. The vicomte had warned her, and she had refused to listen!

Enid crouched in the corner of the dark coach. She could hear the angry urgings of the driver as he repeatedly lashed the horses, and several times she was certain that the careening carriage would topple to the ground. She saw now that the vicomte had been right about her traveling at night. To succeed in eluding the highwayman would be a matter of sheer luck.

She became aware of the rider’s approach and heard a shouted exchange between him and the driver. Then the carriage slowed and she braced herself for the confrontation. She had no idea what to do or say. Her French was not very good, a fact she deeply regretted, but at this point it seemed a minor concern.

The carriage came to a halt, and a moment later the door was opened by a tall man wearing a hooded raincape. He spoke to her in slightly accented English. “You are traveling to Versailles, madam?”