In the Arms of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “I can hardly believe it,” Charlie said, “but I did warn you!”

  “I wondered this morning,” the Marquis added, “whether I should tell her exactly what I thought of her, but decided that there was no point in doing so.”

  “So you left the Duchess with the impression that you would return,” Charlie remarked.

  “I would not go so far as that,” the Marquis answered. “I said firmly that I hoped that there would be no more unpleasant incidents on my boundary and that I would investigate the farmer’s allegation that his fifteen-year-old daughter had disappeared.”

  “What did she say to that?”

  “She merely remarked that girls of that age are inclined to go off with the first pedlar of pretty ribbons who takes their fancy and, since doubtless the girl would be found soon either in Newmarket or London, I would merely be wasting my time.”

  “In other words she appeared to brush it off?”

  “Of course,” the Marquis agreed, “and I believe that there is nothing that woman would not do! I am not surprised that she scares the whole countryside and I can only describe her as being like a hooded cobra!”

  Charlie laughed.

  “A very apt description. I am only surprised that you have come away unscathed.”

  “I only hope that the girl in the Vicarage is all right. She behaved with commendable courage, although fortunately she was too innocent to understand half of what was going on.”

  “Did you see any of the rest of the party before you left this morning?”

  “None of them, thank goodness!” the Marquis replied. “I sent a message to the Duchess saying that as I wished to get home as soon as possible, I hoped that she would see me at her earliest convenience.”

  “So she appeared before anybody else.”

  “She seemed surprised that I was unaffected by the debauchery which I am certain will keep the others in bed until midday at least.”

  “I imagine that she herself did not drink very much,” Charlie remarked.

  “No, but she takes drugs.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The pupils of her eyes were dilated last night and I think the drugs she takes sharpen rather than sedate her brain. She only missed one point of what I was saying to her this morning, and never slipped up on the very plausible explanations she had for everything I asked her.”

  “She is a clever woman!”

  “A damnably clever one!” the Marquis said violently. “I hope I never come in contact with her again!”

  Charlie raised his eyebrows, but before he could say any more the butler announced luncheon and they went into the dining room.

  As they finished an excellent but light meal, Charlie enquired,

  “As you promised not to go back to London today, what do you propose we do?”

  “I thought – ” the Marquis began.

  Before he could finish the sentence the door opened and the butler announced,

  “Miss Aspasia Stanton has called on you, my Lord. I have shown her and a gentleman into the study. The young lady was most insistent on seeing your Lordship immediately although she has no appointment.”

  “That is all right,” the Marquis said.

  Charlie smiled.

  “She has not taken long in following you. I wonder who she has brought with her?”

  “Her uncle, I expect,” the Marquis replied, “and this therefore means that I have to find him a Living.”

  Charlie laughed.

  “That should not prove too difficult.”

  The Marquis walked towards the door.

  “Come along, Charlie. I would like you to meet Miss Stanton.”

  “I have every intention of doing so after all I have heard about this young woman,” Charlie replied with a grin.

  The Marquis walked into the study and saw by the expression on Aspasia’s face how glad she was to see him.

  “Forgive me, please – forgive me for – troubling you,” she began, “but my brother and I have nobody else we can turn to – and we are both very – frightened.”

  The Marquis took her hand in his and then looked towards the man standing behind her.

  As he did so, the words he was about to speak died on his lips and he merely stared at Jerry in astonishment before he exclaimed,

  “Good Heavens! I can hardly believe it!”

  “I thought – you would – see the likeness,” Aspasia murmured.

  “Likeness?” the Marquis echoed. “And you say this is your brother?”

  Jerry held out his hand.

  “I am Jerome Stanton, my Lord, and I want to thank you for your kindness towards my sister. She has told me how you looked after her last night.”

  “It was certainly an unpleasant evening that your sister and I were involved in,” the Marquis said, “but she never mentioned to me that you existed.”

  “Up to now neither Jerry nor I had ever seen the Duchess and for reasons that we can explain we had to keep Jerry hidden,” Aspasia said. “But now she – knows! And it is – my fault.”

  There was a little sob in her voice as she said the last words and the Marquis looked at her in surprise.

  Then he said,

  “I feel you have a great deal to tell me, but first may I introduce my great friend, Charles Caversham, whom you may trust completely as you have trusted me.”

  “I am delighted to meet you, Miss Stanton,” Charlie said. “The Marquis has been telling me how extremely brave you were in the most appalling circumstances.”

  “I was only brave because he was – kind enough to – look after me.” Aspasia replied in a small voice. “And now we have to ask his help – again. There is – nobody else.”

  “I am only too willing to listen,” the Marquis said, “but first of all I must ask you if you have had anything to eat. If not, my chef can easily produce some luncheon for you.”

  “No, it’s all right, thank you very much,” Aspasia answered. “Jerry insisted that we stopped at an inn on the way and had some bread and cheese. We thought that it would be embarrassing to arrive just as you were sitting down to luncheon.”

  “At least I can offer you a drink,” the Marquis said. “I know already that Aspasia only likes lemonade, but I am sure, Stanton, you will not refuse a glass of champagne.”

  “Thank you very much, my Lord.”

  The Marquis poured out a glass of champagne for Jerry and some lemonade for Aspasia.

  Charlie refused brandy and then on the Marquis’s insistence they all sat down in the comfortable green leather armchairs.

  As he joined them, he smiled at Aspasia as he said,

  “Last night I told you to start at the beginning, but I know now that you must have left out a very important part of your story.”

  “It’s a – secret we have never told – anybody,” Aspasia answered, “but, as we rode here, Jerry and I decided that we would tell you the truth – because we know that you are the only – person who might be able to – help us.”

  “Then do so,” the Marquis said as if he realised that was the whole point of the story.

  Aspasia drew in her breath before she declared,

  “The truth is that – Jerry is the – fourth Duke of Grimstone!”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  For a moment there was silence and then the Marquis asked,

  “Why did you not tell me this when you were looking at the portrait of the Duke?”

  Before Aspasia could reply Jerry said,

  “It has been a secret that has been kept ever since we were born, my Lord, but when we returned home after riding this morning, we knew that the Duchess must have discovered my existence.”

  “How did you know that?” the Marquis enquired.

  “We saw Bollard, the Duchess’s Agent, and his men ransacking the house.”

  As he spoke, Aspasia gave a little cry.

  “Uncle Theophilus! We have – forgotten about him. Supposing when he returns – ”

  She loo
ked at Jerry with an expression of horror that the Marquis had seen in her eyes before.

  “Yes, of course,” Jerry responded. “I never thought of him. I must go back at once and prevent him from going home.”

  He started to rise to his feet, but the Marquis said quickly,

  “Wait a minute! Let me get this clear. You think that your uncle is in some danger from this man Bollard? But why?”

  “You have no idea what – he is like,” Aspasia came in. “If people will not tell him what he wants to – know, he – tortures them!”

  She saw the expression of incredulity on the Marquis’s face and added,

  “You don’t believe me, but one man, Alfred Newlands, was – tortured to make him admit that he was poaching and he went mad. Then – afterwards he – killed himself!”

  The terror vibrated in her voice and the Marquis said quietly,

  “Tell me where your uncle is at this moment.”

  “He is visiting a Mrs. Winthrop, my Lord,” Jerry answered. “She lives at Fetters Cross, which is about four miles out of Little Medlock.”

  “Wait here, I will see to it,” the Marquis said and walked towards the door.

  Aspasia looked at her brother.

  “How could we have – forgotten that he might – hurt Uncle Theophilus?”

  “Don’t worry,” Charlie said soothingly. “If there is one thing my friend the Marquis excels at, it is planning a campaign, which I see you have become and I assure you that there is no need for you to have any further fears about your uncle.”

  “I hope – you are – right,” Aspasia stammered.

  As if he wished to change the subject, Charlie went on,

  “I never saw the third Duke, although I have heard a great deal about him. Is the likeness to your brother so striking that it would certainly be noticed by anyone who knew the Duke and not your brother?”

  In answer to the question Aspasia took from the pocket of her riding jacket the miniature she carried.

  “See for yourself!” she offered.

  She held it out to Charlie who rose and took it from her.

  He stared at it and then at Jerry.

  “I have never seen such a remarkable likeness,” he said. “Yet you two who are twins do not resemble each other.”

  “Mama said that I resembled the second Duchess,” Aspasia said. “I believe that there is a portrait of her by Gainsborough, but I did not see it when I was at Grimstone House.”

  “How can the Duchess suddenly after all this time have guessed who you are?” Charlie enquired.

  “It’s all my – fault,” Aspasia answered.

  She told him how, when the Duchess had asked her to stay the night, she thought that she must let Jerry know that she was not returning home and sent a message to the Vicarage with two of her grooms.

  “I expect the older groom remembered – our father,” Jerry said ruminatingly.

  There was a pause before he said the last two words because he and Aspasia had never referred to the Duke by any name, being always afraid that they might be overheard.

  The Marquis came back into the room.

  “I have sent my travelling chariot drawn by four horses,” he said, “with a footman on the box who can handle a gun and my Agent, Jackson, who knows the way, to bring your uncle here.”

  “Oh, thank you – thank you!” Aspasia cried. “How can you be so kind and so – considerate.”

  She spoke with such feeling and with an expression in her eyes that made Charlie think that the Marquis had not only found a campaign to fight but had also already made an unexpected conquest.

  Then he told himself that lovely and unusual though Aspasia was she was not likely to make much impression on a man who had had half the beauties of London Society ready to fall into his arms at the slightest encouragement.

  “What I have to ask you now,” the Marquis said briskly, “is if you have any evidence, apart from your undoubted resemblance, to substantiate the fact that you believe yourself to be the late Duke’s son and heir.”

  “Of course we have,” Aspasia replied, “and I think that is what Bollard was looking for.”

  “What is this evidence?”

  “Mama’s Marriage Certificate, a page of the Church Register in Little Medlock that she tore out with Uncle Theophilus’s permission and a number of letters that our father wrote to her planning their secret marriage.”

  She paused for breath and the Marquis then asked,

  “Where are these things?”

  “Here in Newmarket in the Bank – Mama deposited them there for safety.”

  The Marquis frowned and then he said,

  “I think before we waste any more time we should go and collect them just in case they fall into the wrong hands.”

  “You mean – that the Duchess – ?” Aspasia began.

  “The Duchess is a very influential person in this part of the world,” the Marquis said. “We had better go to the Bank.”

  He walked from the room and they heard him giving orders for a carriage to be brought round immediately.

  They only had to wait a few minutes before it came to the door and they climbed into it to drive what was actually quite a short distance to the Bank in the main street of the small town.

  The Marquis told Jerry what to say and when they entered the Bank he asked for the Manager.

  Obviously impressed by their appearance the clerk showed them immediately into an office where a comparatively young man rose to greet them.

  “I am Jerome Stanton,” Jerry began, “and I and my sister, Miss Aspasia Stanton, wish you to hand over to us the sealed box that was deposited here seventeen years ago by my mother and which has been in your charge ever since.”

  There was an expression of surprise on the Manager’s face and he said,

  “This is very strange indeed, Mr. Stanton.”

  “What is?” Jerry asked.

  “That you should arrive at this particular moment.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, sir, a quarter of an hour ago a gentleman arrived here with a letter from Her Grace the Duchess of Grimstone asking me for any documents deposited by Mrs. Stanton.”

  “You did not give them to her?” Aspasia asked before anybody else could speak.

  “I was in fact worried about what to do,” the Manager replied, “because I understood that the instructions given at the time by Mrs. Stanton were that the box could be handed over only to her children if they applied for it jointly.”

  “Then it is still here?” Jerry asked.

  “The gentleman representing Her Grace was very persistent and not liking to refuse such an important client, I have asked him to wait in another room while I sent for the last Manager, who recently retired but lives in the town, to ask his advice.”

  Aspasia gave an audible sigh.

  “Then the box is – here.”

  “Yes, Miss Stanton, but I do not know that.”

  Before he could say anything more the Marquis intervened.

  “I am the Marquis of Thame,” he said. “I think perhaps you know me by name.”

  “Yes, indeed, my Lord,” the Manager said eagerly, “and may I say we are very gratified that you are one of our patrons.”

  “Then as your Patron,” the Marquis said firmly, “I advise you to carry out your instructions to the letter and hand over to Mr. Jerome Stanton and Miss Aspasia Stanton, both of whom I can vouch for, the box that was deposited by their mother and which in no circumstances should be given to any other person, however important their credentials might appear to be.”

  The Manager was obviously impressed and at the same time somewhat disturbed by the sarcastic tone in which the Marquis referred indirectly to the Duchess.

  “I will fetch the box at once, my Lord,” he said. “And, please, Miss Stanton, will you take a seat?”

  Aspasia did not sit, but merely waited apprehensively until the Manager returned, pink in the face because he had been hurry
ing, with a small square box in his hand that was sealed in several places.

  He put it down on the desk and produced a form.

  “Will you, Miss Stanton, and your brother, be kind enough to sign this form?” he asked. “And I should be much obliged, my Lord, in case there are any difficulties with Her Grace, if you would sign it too.”

  “Certainly,” the Marquis agreed at once.

  When they drove away with Jerry carrying the precious box tightly under one arm, Aspasia turned to the Marquis,

  “How could you have – guessed that the Duchess would try to obtain the documents? How could you have been so – clever as to get us here – just in time?”

  “I am convinced that the Duchess will stop at nothing to make certain that she keeps her title and her position as your father’s heiress,” the Marquis said, “and that is why I have a plan, which must be put into operation immediately!”

  When they walked into the house, Aspasia moved towards the room where they had been sitting earlier, but the Marquis stayed behind and they could hear his voice in the hall giving orders to the servants, although they could not hear what he said.

  Then he joined them closing the door firmly behind him and walking to stand in front of the mantelpiece as he said,

  “Now listen to me. This is very important. You, Stanton, will leave within fifteen minutes for London with my friend, Charlie Caversham.”

  The Marquis looked at Charlie as he spoke almost as if he expected him to protest, but there was a twinkle in Charlie’s eyes and a faint smile on his lips so the Marquis went on,

  “You, Charlie, will drive my chestnuts and the phaeton, which is the fastest vehicle I have. You will have a groom with you and you will be accompanied by four outriders, one of whom will be Stanton.”

  They all stared at the Marquis and even Charlie seemed surprised.

  “I am taking no chances,” the Marquis went on. “I have a feeling that the Duchess will by this time realise that you have not returned to the Vicarage and be desperate to stop you from reaching London. She may anticipate that you will petition the Prince Regent.”

  “Shall I do that?” Jerry asked.

  The Marquis shook his head.

  “No. It is much too soon and far too dangerous for you to go anywhere where you could be eliminated by having what would be undoubtedly called an ‘unfortunate accident’.”