In the Arms of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “No – I did not even know that they were here until I came downstairs to the salon. The only person I saw was Mrs. Fielding and the maids who helped me to dress.”

  “So your gown belongs to the Duchess.”

  “Yes. It was she who told Mrs. Fielding what I was to wear and I remember her saying, ‘That one always works with the more sophisticated ones’.”

  It all began to fit into place, the Marquis thought, and he was beginning to see the whole pattern of the Duchess’s plans to ensnare him as she had ensnared the other fools downstairs with drinks, drugs, women and obscenity.

  It was the sort of thing that quite a number of men who frequented the Beau Monde would find an irresistible attraction.

  But the Duchess could not have known, because she had never met him, that there was nothing in her house that was likely to be of the least interest to him, except perhaps Aspasia.

  He had known when he first saw her that she was surprisingly lovely. He had never seen her colour of hair on any other woman and her small pointed face and huge dark blue eyes would, he thought, have been irresistibly alluring even among the beauties who frequented Carlton House.

  But the circumstances that they met in had led him to assume that she was a clever actress, well rehearsed in the part she had to play, and that her air of innocence was over-accentuated by the way she was dressed.

  Now listening to her the Marquis could hardly believe that he was not still being deceived so subtly that he would be a fool not to be suspicious.

  And yet every word that Aspasia had said seemed to ring true. As he watched her he knew her fear could not be anything but real and the eyes she turned beseechingly up to him were innocent and bewildered.

  As she came to the end of her tale, she added,

  “There have been strange – rumours in Little Medlock, but nobody there has any – idea of the real – wickedness that is taking place – here.”

  “What other things do they talk about?” the Marquis said.

  “The things that happen on the other parts of the estate,” Aspasia replied, “but I would rather not tell you about them.”

  The Marquis did not press her, he only asked,

  “What do you want to do now?”

  “I want to go home – I want to leave here and never come back – never! Never!”

  “If you do leave so soon,” the Marquis said, “the Duchess will think that you have not kept your part of the contract.”

  There was silence and then Aspasia once again in a terrified little voice said,

  “Y-you mean – if I do not stay here with you – she will make Uncle Theophilus leave in a month’s time?”

  “I think that is likely,” the Marquis responded.

  “But – I cannot – you don’t – understand – I cannot stay.”

  The Marquis realised that it was only by a tremendous effort of will that she did not jump to her feet and once again she was frightened to the point where she was thinking despairingly that to escape she might have to throw herself out of the window.

  He did not know how he knew that this was in her thoughts.

  But he thought that her eyes were transparent with the clearness of a stream or perhaps, where she was concerned, he was even more perceptive as to her feelings than he usually was when he was interrogating anybody.

  “Let me promise you one thing,” he said, “I will not do anything that you would not wish me to do.”

  As he spoke, he knew that Aspasia’s fears subsided as if they were the waves of a rough sea and after a moment she asked,

  “Do you – really mean – that? You will – not – touch me?”

  “Not unless you ask me to do so,” the Marquis replied with a smile, “and, as that is very unlikely, it seems pointless to talk about it.”

  “Thank you – thank you very – much,” Aspasia said in a breathless little voice.

  “Now what we have to decide together,” the Marquis said in a different tone, “is how you can make the Duchess certain that you have kept your promise to her and therefore she must keep hers.”

  “Please – tell me how – I can do it?”

  “I have been thinking,” he answered, “that having seen Mrs. Fielding keeping guard outside, you will have to stay here at least for a part of the night. There is plenty of room for us both to be quite comfortable.”

  “Yes – yes – of course,” Aspasia agreed.

  “And I imagine about dawn,” the Marquis went on, “you can go back to your own room.”

  Aspasia considered this for a moment.

  And then she said,

  “I don’t know where my own room is. I changed my gown down a long passage in the opposite direction from this and I thought that when you – arranged to go to bed and had no – further use for me – you would send a – servant to show me – the way.”

  Because Aspasia sounded a little incoherent the Marquis added,

  “In that case forget it and I imagine that you would rather go home than have any further communication with Mrs. Fielding or the Duchess.”

  “I-I could not – bear to see – either of them again,” Aspasia said passionately. “I know now they are both – wicked – horrible women to have arranged that those people should appear – naked in the – dining room.”

  The Marquis realised that it was simply their nakedness that had upset Aspasia. Because she was so innocent, she had no idea that the fact that they were wearing nothing was a very minor part of the degradation of their act.

  “Forget it!” he exclaimed. “It is something that you should not have seen and are never likely to see again. Just put it out of your mind.”

  “I – will – try,” Aspasia said humbly, “and I hope too I can forget – the Duchess and – Mrs. Fielding.”

  “You must try,” the Marquis went on firmly. “Now we must both make an effort to sleep as comfortably as we can and I think, Aspasia, that we would be very stupid if we did not avail ourselves of that very large and comfortable bed.”

  He saw her stiffen and went on,

  “I will lie on one side of it and you on the other and we will put a pillow between us. As soon as it is dawn and it is not likely that there will be anybody about, I will take you home. I presume the Duchess intended to send you back in her carriage, but it would be best for you not to wake her up.”

  “I could not – bear it,” Aspasia replied, “she might – ask me to do – something else – and all I want to do is to – get away.”

  “I can understand that,” the Marquis agreed, “and I suggest you sit down at that desk and write her a note saying that as you have fulfilled your promise and done everything that I required and you are therefore going home.”

  He paused before he added sarcastically,

  “You will then thank her for having promised that your uncle may keep his Living.”

  Aspasia drew in her breath.

  “That is clever of you – very clever,” she said. “Shall I write it now?”

  “Yes,” the Marquis replied, “and, as we have a long and not very comfortable night before us, I hope you will forgive me if I take off my evening coat.”

  “Y-yes – of course.”

  He knew, however, as she moved towards the French secrétaire that she was not thinking of him but of the letter she had to write.

  She did not take long in doing so and, when she had finished, she turned round to find that the Marquis had extinguished the lights on one side of the bed and was now lying on it, propped against the pillows.

  He was still wearing his white shirt and long tight-fitting black pantaloons, but he had loosened his cravat and he appeared to be very much at his ease and not nearly so frightening as he had seemed before.

  Aspasia stood briefly gazing at him.

  Then she saw that one of the lace pillows from the bed lay beside him and beyond it there was plenty of room for her without there being the slightest chance of her brushing against him.

  She laid
the letter down on the secrétaire and walked a little nearer to the bed as she said,

  “I have just been thinking – it is very kind of you to say that you will take me home tomorrow – but I have nothing to – wear except for this – gown I have on now.”

  “I expect I can find you something to put over it,” the Marquis replied, “but, as it is late and you are tired, I suggest that you now try to sleep. I promise I will wake you as soon as it is possible for us to leave.”

  “You are – quite sure you will not oversleep?”

  “I have been a soldier, Aspasia, and I have taught myself to wake up when I want to.”

  She gave him a little smile, then because he realised that she was shy and the colour was rising in her cheeks, he turned on his side with his back to the centre of the bed and closed his eyes.

  “Hurry up, Aspasia,” he said in the same tone that Jerry might have used to her. “I am sleepy and I want to put out the light.”

  Aspasia did as she was told and walking round the bed climbed in on the other side.

  As she put her head against the pillows, she realised that they were very soft and after all she had been through today she was definitely very tired.

  She slipped off the satin slippers that were a size too big for her, but were the smallest that Mrs. Fielding could find and, giving them a little push, heard them fall to the floor.

  Then she closed her eyes.

  She heard the Marquis blow out the candles one by one and then they lay in the dark.

  “Goodnight, Aspasia,” he said. “Sleep well.”

  “I will – try,” she answered, “and I am going to thank God in my prayers because you have been so – very – very kind to me.”

  There was silence before she added,

  “Supposing you had been – like one of those – other men who drank too much – and who applauded – the naked people on the stage?”

  The fear was now back in her voice.

  “But I am not,” the Marquis replied, “so go to sleep, Aspasia.”

  “Thank you – for being – you,” she whispered and started to say her prayers.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Aspasia awoke suddenly and wondered for a moment where she was. Then she realised that somebody had pulled back the curtains and she could see the pale yellow dawn moving up the sky while there were still twinkling some stars overhead.

  She stared at them for a moment and then heard a sound and realised what had awoken her.

  The Marquis was in the bathroom.

  At the thought of him she sat up quickly feeling that it was incredible that she had in fact slept dreamlessly while lying on a bed beside a strange man.

  Then she saw the pillow between them and that on his side the sheet was creased where he had lain all night.

  It struck her once again how fortunate she had been in being with a man who had no interest in her.

  The way the other gentlemen were behaving at the end of dinner made her aware that if she had been with one of them it would have been preferable to throw herself from the window than to stay.

  She climbed out of bed feeling that what she needed was air. Her lips felt dry and she was thirsty.

  Despite the Marquis’s order she had never been brought the lemonade that she had asked for last night.

  Then, as she reached the centre of the room, she glanced without thinking towards the mantelpiece and stood still.

  Over it was a large portrait of a man.

  Skilfully painted, obviously by a great artist, he was leaning casually against an ornate urn. At the same time there was something so alive and vital about him that she felt almost as if he might step from the picture and she could speak to him.

  She was so spellbound that she did not hear the Marquis come into the room and, when he spoke just behind her, she started.

  “I see you are admiring the third Duke,” he said. “I have heard that he was a splendid fwllow and I should think if he returned he would be very ashamed of the way that his daughter is behaving.”

  Aspasia did not reply and the Marquis looked up at the picture to add,

  “I wish I had known him, for, if he had been here I am sure that there would have been none of the difficulties we are encountering at the moment.”

  Still Aspasia did not say anything and the Marquis went on,

  “I think we should get away from here as soon as possible if you wish to avoid meeting the Duchess or that woman who was watching us last night.”

  Aspasia gave a little exclamation of horror and the Marquis ordered her,

  “Go and wash the sleep out of your eyes and I will find you something to put over your gown.”

  She hurried to obey him going quickly into the bathroom, where she not only washed from a ewer of cold water but drank a glass of it.

  She saw that the Marquis had bathed by pouring cans of cold water into a silver bath and she thought when she went home that she would do the same and try to wash away the horrors of last night.

  She knew that he was right and she must get away as rapidly as possible.

  She went back into the bedroom to find that he was just finishing tying his cravat in front of the looking glass.

  He was wearing riding breeches with highly polished Hessians and, without turning his head, he told her,

  “I have put a cape on the bed that should cover you.”

  Aspasia saw that what he had provided for her was his black evening cape, which was lined with satin. It had a velvet collar and when she clasped it at her neck it hid her gown except for a few inches at the hem.

  “Thank – you,” she said. “This will do splendidly. But how are – we to travel?”

  “I have been thinking about that,” the Marquis replied.

  He went to the wardrobe as he spoke and drew out a riding jacket of grey whipcord.

  As he put it on, he continued,

  “Although they are used to getting up early, my grooms will not be awake at this hour. So, unless there is somebody on duty at the stables, I will saddle my own horse and take you to your home in front of me.”

  “I am – very sorry to be such a – nuisance,” Aspasia said humbly, thinking how uncomfortable it would be for him.

  The Marquis smiled before he said,

  “Actually, and you may find it hard to believe this, I am enjoying pitting my wits against the Duchess and hoping that I shall be the victor!”

  “I am praying very hard that you will be,” Aspasia said.

  “I am sure that your prayers are always effective,” he replied. “Now come along and pray that we will not be seen.”

  He opened the door of the bedroom cautiously as he spoke and looked down the passage.

  As he had expected, the candles in the sconces had gutted low, but there was enough light to see that there was nobody about.

  He reached out to take Aspasia by the hand and having closed the door quietly set off down the corridor walking very softly for such a large man.

  He avoided the main staircase where peeping through the banisters Aspasia could see that the nightfootman was asleep by the front door in a large padded chair with a high hood.

  They walked on and, as the Marquis obviously expected, they came to another secondary staircase, which took them down to the ground floor.

  Aspasia thought that if they went much further they would come to the dining room and beyond that must be the kitchen where the servants would soon be starting to cook and clean.

  The Marquis discovered a side door that, when he had unbolted it, led them out among some shrubs.

  Running through them was a narrow path from which they emerged into a part of the garden that was not far from the stables.

  This was where they wanted to be and Aspasia wished to tell the Marquis how clever he had been, but she thought it best not to speak.

  She was not to know that the Marquis was extremely pleased with himself for having worked out a plan of the house in his mind and he was delighted at having
arrived at exactly the place he intended.

  The stable was very quiet and, as the Marquis had anticipated, there was a young groom on duty. He was asleep on a pile of hay in an empty stall.

  He woke apologetically when spoken to and obviously expected to be reprimanded only to be delighted, when having saddled the Marquis’s stallion, he found himself generously rewarded.

  Leading the stallion outside the Marquis lifted Aspasia onto the saddle and swung himself up behind her.

  She tried to make herself as small as possible, but he put his left arm around her and pulled her back against him and they set off at quite a good pace, the Marquis managing to keep the stallion under control with one hand.

  Only when they were well away from the house did he say and it was the first time he had spoken to Aspasia since they had left the bedroom,

  “You will have to direct me.”

  “I think it would be wisest,” she answered, “if you return home the way I came here – which will prevent us from being seen.”

  “That would certainly be wise,” the Marquis agreed, “and when I return I shall say that I took you home because you wished to leave early.”

  “Must you say – that?”

  “I never lie unless it is absolutely necessary.”

  Aspasia remembered that this was something that her mother had always said,

  “I hate and detest lies and untruths of all sorts,” she remarked once in her soft voice, “but if we must lie to save somebody’s life or just their reputation, then we call them ‘white lies’ and they are not so reprehensible.” Mrs. Stanton paused, before she added, “But even so, they should be convincing and as near to the truth as possible.”

  Aspasia had been aware what her mother was referring to and she had known that in that particular case the ‘white lies’ they had to tell were absolutely necessary and therefore forgivable.

  They rode on for quite a long way before the Marquis said,

  “I have been thinking over what you have told me, Aspasia, and I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say to you.”

  “Yes, of – course.”

  She had been thinking how safe she felt with his arms around her and how strong he was, so that for the moment she was no longer afraid.