The Lioness and the Lily

by Barbara Cartland

Your Grace’s humble and respectful servant,

  J. B. Anstruther.”

  The Earl felt that all the information that the Duchess might require was in the letter whilst it committed him to no further action.

  He therefore dismissed the Torringtons from his mind and wished that he could do the same where Louise was concerned.

  He supposed that it was his physical weakness that made him feel she was still there menacing him and still trying to force him into a situation from which he shrank with every instinct in his body.

  ‘Once I am married there is nothing she can do,’ he assured himself again and again.

  He found himself wishing that he was not alone and that Purilla would return from the wood.

  He had, however, to wait quite a long time before he heard her footsteps coming lightly up the stairs.

  Then there was a knock on the door and she came in just as dusk was falling and the last dying remnants of the sun had sunk over the horizon.

  And yet the Earl thought that she seemed to light up the room with her fair hair that shone like a torch as she came towards the bed.

  He realised that she was not alone and, as she moved towards him, a dog followed her.

  “Who is this?” the Earl enquired.

  “I have come to ask you if he may stay with me,” Purilla said. “He hates being shut up in the stables.”

  “Has he been exiled on my account?”

  Purilla nodded.

  “I am afraid when he is excited or he wants something he will bark and Nanny said it would disturb you.”

  “That will not matter now as I am nearly well again,” the Earl replied. “What is his name?”

  “Jason.”

  The Earl raised his eyebrows.

  “It does not sound quite as romantic as Mercury or Pegasus.”

  “But it is,” Purilla contradicted him. “I called him ‘Jason’ because he is always searching.”

  “Of course for the Golden Fleece,” the Earl remarked.

  “That is right.”

  She sat down on the chair beside the bed and after a moment she added,

  “I feel in a way that it is something we all do.”

  The Earl was fondling Jason’s ears and he looked at her for a long moment before he asked,

  “And what are you searching for?”

  He had the feeling that she was trying to tell him something, but he was not prepared for the colour that came into her cheeks or the shyness in her eyes as she looked away from him.

  It made her appear unexpectedly lovely.

  Then, as if she had no wish to answer his question, she jumped up quickly to say,

  “It is getting dark. I just cannot think why Nanny has not brought you the lamp. I will light the candles and then I will draw your curtains.”

  “There is no hurry,” the Earl said. “I am waiting for you to answer my question.”

  “I-I cannot recall what it was,” Purilla replied.

  “That is not true. You told me that everybody is searching for something and I am interested to know what you wish to find.”

  “I suppose – everyone wants – happiness,” Purilla replied in a low voice.

  The Earl knew that was only half the answer and he was sure that the word she was too shy to say was ‘love’.

  It struck him for the first time that, while he had told her he wanted her and needed her, he had not actually said that he loved her.

  He was well aware that it was what every woman would expect to hear from the man who had offered her marriage.

  He suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that if he said to Purilla, ‘I love you!’ she would know with her ‘sixth sense’ or maybe with an instinct that he was aware she used where people were concerned, that it was not the love that she was seeking.

  A love, he told himself, that was the idealistic emotion she had heard about in Fairy stories and had little to do with the ordinary world that they both lived in.

  ‘I will respect and protect her and she shall have everything she wants in the way of diamonds and jewels and a social position that is second only to Royalty. What more can she ask?’

  The Earl felt as if the question was unnecessary and he knew exactly what Purilla was looking for. He was far too intelligent to pretend ignorance when the truth was only too obvious.

  ‘Love!’ he thought cynically.

  How many aspects of love there were ranging from the exotic fantasies catered for in London to the passion that was really nothing more than lust, which had brought Louise through the labyrinth of corridors to his bedroom at Windsor Castle!

  He knew that this was not the love Purilla was seeking, but he told himself that the idealised love that was part of a Fairytale that existed only in her mind and had no reality in the world today.

  ‘I must try not to disillusion her,’ the Earl warned himself.

  He knew what she was demanding of him was not in his power to give and inevitably sooner or later she would be disappointed.

  Because the idea in a strange way upset him, he asked himself almost angrily why he could not have met an ordinary stupid young country girl.

  She would have been utterly content if a real live Earl had been sent to her like a gift from Heaven and would ask nothing more than that she should be transported into a social position that was almost too dazzling to contemplate.

  He felt that this aspect of their marriage was of little or no consequence to Purilla, but how he knew it he was not certain.

  He was only aware that she was marrying him because he attracted her. She was, however, still unawakened to any great depth of feeling although her instinct did tell her that there was something missing in his offer.

  Because he felt that to talk of love in a room that was darkening was dangerous, the Earl said quickly,

  “You are right, Purilla. Light the candles. Or better still ask Bates to bring up the lamp. We should not allow Nanny to keep coming up and down the stairs. It is too much for her.”

  “If I cannot find Bates, I will bring it up myself,” Purilla replied.

  She walked quickly towards the door and Jason, who had been standing on his hind legs with his head down on the bed in an ecstasy of delight while the Earl stroked his ears, wrenched himself away almost violently to run after her.

  The Earl watched them, then as he heard them both going down the stairs, he lay back against his pillows and told himself that he was being needlessly apprehensive about Purilla.

  She was young, she was adaptable and, he was sure very teachable. He would soon get her used to his ways.

  Because she was sensible she would not make unreasonable demands upon him or ask him for something that he could not give her.

  ‘I suppose by her standards I have never been in love,’ the Earl ruminated.

  He thought it strange that Purilla of all people should make him come to this conclusion.

  It was in fact something that he had never thought about until now.

  He had been amused, enamoured and sometimes a trifle infatuated by women who fell all too easily into his arms the moment he showed the slightest interest in them.

  Yet he could never remember feeling heartbroken when one of his liaisons came to an end or his Regimental duties took him elsewhere.

  There would be an exchange of letters for a short while, which would grow fewer and fewer and finally cease altogether.

  But always where one woman had left a vacuum in his life there was another one to fill it.

  ‘Once we are married she will settle down at Rock Castle,’ the Earl thought, his mind back once again with Purilla, ‘and when we have children she will have plenty to occupy her.’

  Again he thought that it was slightly unfortunate that he was being pressured into marriage so quickly after he had inherited.

  Then he remembered the doctor had said there was a lot to be done on the estate and because she had always lived in the country he was sure that Purilla would find it interesting.

/>   After a while perhaps he could leave her in charge of certain local responsibilities and occupy himself with more serious matters such as Politics.

  ‘She will be all right,’ he told himself in an over-hearty manner that made him know that he was giving it undue emphasis as if to convince himself.

  And yet later, before he went to sleep, he found himself thinking of that elusive, sentimental and romantic emotion described as ‘love’, which meant something different to everyone who searched for it.

  Getting into his frock coat was not as difficult as the Earl had anticipated.

  He still had to wear his arm in a sling, but it did not prevent him from looking extremely smart when he was finally dressed for his Wedding.

  It seemed strange, he thought, that his marriage should take place so quietly and there would be no witnesses except for Nanny and Bates.

  He knew, however, that speed was essential and, because a plan had already formed itself in his mind, he had extracted a promise of secrecy not only from Bates but also from the Vicar.

  “You can understand,” he said to the Vicar, “that, as Miss Cranford has no relatives, it is quite unnecessary to have a large Wedding that, being attended only by just my friends and relations, might make her feel embarrassed.”

  “Of course, of course, I understand that, my Lord,” the Vicar agreed.

  “What is more,” the Earl went on, “I am quite certain that had I contemplated anything but a very quiet Ceremony Dr. Jenkins would have forbidden it to take place for several weeks.”

  The Vicar nodded understandingly and the Earl continued,

  “That is why, as I have to go to Rock Castle taking with me Miss Cranford and her Nanny, I think it wise that we should be married here in Little Stanton and give our explanations afterwards.”

  The Vicar had been most accommodating.

  “I am sure you are right, my Lord, and I agree with your Lordship that a large Wedding is very exhausting especially for the bride and bridegroom.”

  As if he had been following his Master’s train of thought, Bates said,

  “They’ll be surprised to learn you’re bringin’ ’ome a wife, my Lord, and I expects when your Lordship’s better they’ll expect some sort of Festivities.”

  “Do you mean a party with fireworks?” the Earl murmured beneath his breath.

  “Exactly, my Lord,” Bates agreed. “Very disappointed they’d be to miss out on what they looks on as their right, so to speak.”

  The Earl laughed.

  “Then we must contrive that they will not be disappointed, Bates, but for Heaven’s sake not until I am well enough to endure the strain of it.”

  “I’ll see to that, my Lord,” Bates said. “The doctor’s put your Lordship in my charge.”

  “You had better not let Nanny know that,” the Earl said.

  “I am quite certain ’e said the same thing to ’er,” Bates grinned. “I hopes not, my Lord. I’ve a feelin’ she wants to keep you at her mercy!”

  “I can quite believe that,” the Earl replied.

  He negotiated the stairs slowly and cautiously.

  He had moved about the room the day before, but this was different.

  Although it was only a short distance to the Church, there was a carriage waiting outside and when he reached the hall Bates had ready a bottle of champagne on ice to fortify him for the occasion ahead.

  He was drinking the champagne, thinking as he did so, that he needed something to give him strength when he realised that Purilla was beginning to descend the stairs.

  He looked up and, seeing her for the first time fashionably gowned, he thought how lovely she looked.

  Nanny had insisted that she should have a new gown even though there was no time to collect one from London.

  She had instead taken one of the Earl’s carriages and driven to the nearest town where she had managed to find what Purilla called a ‘miracle’ Wedding dress.

  While it would not have ‘passed muster’ in smart St. George’s, Hanover Square, it certainly looked opulent enough for a small Greystone Church in Little Stanton.

  It had a very full skirt, an off-the-shoulder neckline and puffed sleeves ornamented with lace. It was, the Earl well knew, a copy of the gowns that the young Queen Victoria had made the zenith of fashion.

  What made it different was the exquisite Brussels lace veil held by a wreath of orange blossom, which fell to the floor in a small train.

  It was Mr. Anstruther who had told the Earl on learning of his impending marriage of the veil that all the Rockbrook brides had worn at their Wedding Ceremony.

  “I expect, my Lord, you will require the Rock veil?” he had said.

  “I had not thought of it,” the Earl admitted, “but I suppose naturally there must be one.”

  “Of course, my Lord,” Mr. Anstruther replied with just a touch of rebuke in his voice. “It has been worn by all the family brides for the last one hundred and fifty years and the wreath, which I am sure your Lordship will remember, is of artificial orange blossom inset with diamonds.”

  This was something that the Earl did not recall, but he did not want to confess his ignorance.

  However, when the veil arrived from Rock Castle, he knew it would be exactly what Purilla would want and would give her the feeling, which he was sure she desired, of being a Fairytale bride.

  As it happened, the moment Purilla saw what she was to wear, her thoughts were of the Earl.

  She had been so afraid, because even lying injured in bed, he appeared so magnificent, that he would be ashamed of her.

  Now with her new lovely gown, which she thought could not have been excelled by anything available in Bond Street, with the lace veil that might easily have been made by fairy fingers and the glittering wreath, she looked very different.

  She stared at her reflection in the mirror and prayed in her heart,

  ‘Let him think I am beautiful – please let him think I am – beautiful.’

  She had never seen the ladies of the Social world in which the Earl moved at Buckingham Palace or at Windsor Castle, but she had read descriptions of them and seen sketches of the Queen and her Ladies-in-Waiting in The Graphic and The Illustrated London News.

  She was quite certain that she would look just like Cinderella amongst them, especially in the simple gowns that Nanny had made for her from the cheapest materials obtainable simply because it was all that they could afford.

  Now in a gown which seemed to her to be the epitome of fashion, a veil making her look as mysterious as a nymph rising from the mist that lay over the stream in the morning and the diamonds glittering on her head, she felt that the Earl would be proud of her.

  Then, as she thought of it, she knew that this was not all that she wanted him to feel.

  She wanted him to love her, she wanted him to look at her with an expression in his eyes which would tell her that he gave her not only a Wedding ring and his name but also his heart.

  ‘I want his love – I want it,’ she told her reflection and thought the eyes in the mirror looked back at her pleadingly.

  In some ways she felt as if the Earl understood her perhaps better than anybody else did.

  There had been a tussle with Nanny because Purilla had insisted that Jason should come with her to the Church.

  “He must stay in the carriage outside,” Nanny had asserted decisively.

  “I want him to see me married,” Purilla insisted.

  “It’s not right for dogs to be in Church. He’ll cause a commotion and what’ll his Lordship say to that?”

  “Bates has said that he will hold him and he likes Bates,” Purilla persisted, “and I must have one person there who really belongs to me.”

  She saw that Nanny was about to argue and went on quickly,

  “I shall try to believe that Mama and Papa are there on my Wedding Day and I must pretend that Richard is giving me away as he would have done if he had lived. But I must have something that belongs to me to actually s
ee me married and that must be Jason.”

  “You’ll have to ask his Lordship,” Nanny said when she had not the heart to go on fighting.

  The Earl had agreed at once and without any argument.

  “Of course Jason can be there if you want him,” he had said, “although I think the Vicar would object to Mercury coming into the Church.”

  “I thought – if you did not mind,” Purilla said a little breathlessly, “that Tom could lead him as far as the porch and he would be the first person I would – greet when I come out with a – different name.”

  The Earl had smiled.

  “Mercury must definitely wait at the porch,” he said, “but I think you should be grateful that I do not wish to have all my horses there as well. It might cause a stampede!”

  Purilla laughed.

  Then she said,

  “Although I am sure your horses mean a lot to you, it cannot be the same as what Mercury and Jason mean to me. When Richard was killed, they were the only people I could talk to and they try to understand what I am saying to them.”

  “Now you can talk to me,” the Earl stressed firmly.

  There was a little silence and he understood that she was waiting for him to finish the sentence.

  “I will try to understand what you are saying to me,” he said, “and it should not be too difficult.”

  Purilla gave a little sigh.

  “I am afraid perhaps you will think that – some of the things I say are – childish and silly.”

  “Shall I promise you that it is something that I will never think?”

  She shook her head.

  “You may find it is a promise you cannot keep and that would be a mistake. But I would like to be able to tell you things and not be afraid that you would – laugh at me.”

  “That I can definitely promise I will not do,” the Earl said, “and I think, Purilla, that, as we have not known each other for very long, it is very important that we should talk frankly and openly without pretence and without being afraid of misunderstandings.”

  “I would like that,” Purilla replied. “At the same time, because you have done so much in your life, I do not wish to bore you with too many questions. But there is so much I want to learn.”

  The Earl smiled.