“I will find out what time the train leaves for the South,” Anita replied, “then I will creep out of the house and be gone before anyone realises it.”
“Do you really think you can travel alone? All the way back to Fenchurch, if that is the name of your village?”
“Yes – that is right,” Anita said, “and I do not think the – Second Class fare is very expensive or if you prefer – I will go Third.”
“I would prefer you to do none of those things. We have to think of some alternative.”
“There is none,” Anita said quickly. “When Great-Aunt Matilda told me after luncheon before she went to lie down that I was to – marry the Reverend Joshua, she said he was – coming to see me – tomorrow. That means I must go – tonight.”
“But where were you running to now?” the Duke asked.
“I have always found it easier to think when I am in the country,” Anita replied simply. “Somehow it is much more difficult in the town where there are houses and people moving about. I thought I would find a wood, like the – secret wood I go to at home, where I could sort – things out in my mind.”
“Is that where you went after we first met?”
Anita shook her head.
“No. I went – home.”
“Why?”
“I was – thinking about you – because I thought you were – Lucifer. It was so interesting and exciting that it was unnecessary to think in my wood.”
The Duke smiled before he said,
“Because it looks as if it may rain later on this afternoon, I suggest I do not leave you in Knaresborough Forest, which I see we are approaching, but that we think out your plans while you are with me.”
“I have told you – I must go – home,” Anita persisted.
“If your sisters are away, will there be anybody there?”
“There is Deborah, our old maid. She is taking care of the house until Mama is well enough to come back from Switzerland.”
“It does not seem a very satisfactory arrangement,” the Duke remarked. “There is also, of course, the chance that you may not get away.”
Anita gave a little cry.
“But I have to – I have to! If the Reverend Joshua comes to see me tomorrow, I know that however much I may – insist that I will not – marry him, Great-Aunt Matilda will – make me do so. Why should he want me? There must be many other women – the Church was full of them on Sunday who would wish to be his wife. It is ridiculous for him to want me!”
The Duke looked sideways at her small cherub-like face and her large worried eyes.
He thought of quite a number of reasons why the Reverend Joshua should wish to marry her apart from the fact that it obviously had the approval of his most influential patron.
Because he had no wish to make Anita more frightened than she was already, he merely said,
“You are quite certain it will not be in your best interests to be married? After all, if, as you say, Fenchurch is so dull, you might find life in Harrogate considerably more entertaining.”
“Not with – that man as my – h-husband,” Anita said in a whisper. “When he – shakes my hand it makes me – creep and I feel as if he was a – snake. How could I let him – touch me?”
There was such a note of horror in her voice that the Duke almost instinctively tightened his hands on the reins.
Then he said,
“I am now going to drive very fast and, when I have tried out these horses, perhaps we shall find a solution to your problem.”
He did not wait for her answer, but cracked his whip and the horses sprang forward, moving quicker, Anita thought, than she had ever travelled before.
The dust from the road billowed out behind them and she thought that she was not travelling with Lucifer but with Apollo as he drove his chariot across the sky, carrying the light from one side of the world to the other.
It made her thrill at the sheer excitement of it, then, when they were approaching the end of the straight part of the road, the Duke slowed his team down and a few minutes later turned them round.
“That was exciting!” Anita enthused. “And the horses are superb! Where did you find them?”
“They are not mine, as it happens,” the Duke said, “but I have horses of my own which can travel as fast as these, if not faster, although I admit it would be hard to fault them.”
“Then please don’t try to do so,” Anita begged.
“Why not?” the Duke enquired curiously.
“Because it is always so disappointing to find that something we thought was perfect falls short of our expectations.”
“You are too young to have found that out already,” the Duke remarked and there was a distinctly cynical note in his voice.
“So we must never expect too much,” Anita said, as if she was talking to herself, “but try to be grateful that it is as good as it is.”
“The way you are speaking,” the Duke remarked, “I feel that you would make an excellent Parson’s wife!”
She gave a cry of horror.
“That is unkind, and cruel of you! You are only saying that to – hurt me! I was not sermonising, but I am really trying to work out in my own mind why you should be cynical when as a Duke you must have everything you want in the world – and a great deal more – besides.”
The Duke laughed.
“Who has been telling you tales about me?”
“Not you in particular,” Anita replied, “but Dukes are very important people – I know that – and because they are next in line to Royalty one wants to believe they are happy.”
The Duke laughed again.
“You are making me the Duke in a Fairy story, one of those tales you tell yourself when you are looking at the sky or collecting waters from the spa.”
“How do you know I do that?” Anita asked.
“It is obvious.”
“I try not to do it – all the time.”
“I think it would be a mistake to change yourself,” the Duke remarked. “Small angels obviously believe that everything is perfect.”
He smiled again before he quoted,
“Now walk the angels on the walls of Heaven, as sentinels to warn the immortal souls.”
He saw Anita look at him with a sudden light in her eyes and asked,
“Is that what you are doing?”
“Is that what – you are – telling me I – do?” she enquired. “Do I really look like an angel?”
“Exactly!”
“It’s a lovely idea,” Anita whispered almost to herself.
“So what could be more appropriate than to be warning his immortal soul when you are driving with Lucifer?”
“I suppose it was – impertinent of me to think you – looked like him,” Anita said. “It is just that when you appeared I was thinking how handsome he must have been before he fell from Heaven.”
The Duke thought he had been paid many compliments in his life, but this was the most ingenuous.
“Thank you,” he said, and saw a quick blush come into Anita’s cheeks.
“Perhaps I should not have – said that,” she murmured. “The things I think sometimes pop out without my really considering them, so you must forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” the Duke said, “and now as we are turning homeward I think I have a solution to your problem.”
“You have?”
Now there was a very different note in Anita’s voice as she clasped her hands together.
She turned sideways, looking up at him, her eyes beseeching him.
“Do you really mean, Your Grace, that you will help me? Please – please – if you will do so, I will be – grateful all my life!”
“I will certainly try to do so. And I think that you will not be disappointed.”
“Promise that I will not have to – marry the – Reverend Joshua!”
“Not unless you wish to do so.”
“You know that can be never – never – never!” Anita cr
ied. “But how can you – prevent it?”
“I think we shall have to have somebody else’s help – ”
Then, as he saw the expression of concern on Anita’s face, he added,
“Don’t look so worried. The person to whom I am referring is my mother!”
Chapter Three
The Duchess was sitting in her favourite seat in the window when to her surprise she saw her son driving back towards the house.
As he had left her well over an hour ago to return to Harewood House, she could not imagine what had made him come back.
She waited and, when she heard his footsteps outside the room, she looked up expectantly.
He came in, but before he could speak, she cried,
“What has happened, Kerne? I did not expect to see you again so quickly!”
“It’s nothing to upset you, Mama,” the Duke replied as he walked over to her side.
“Then what is it?” the Duchess enquired.
The Duke sat down in a chair next to her before he answered,
“While I was driving, I saw Miss Lavenham’s great-niece and found her in great distress.”
“What can have upset her?”
“Apparently,” the Duke said, “your old friend, who you tell me is given to good works, has decided that the child should marry her pet Minister.”
The Duchess looked astonished.
“You cannot mean the Reverend Joshua Hislip?”
“I believe that is his name.”
“But he is old and a most unpleasant man as far as I am concerned. When I listened to him last Sunday he was literally mouthing over the punishments the wicked would suffer for their sins, and I had the feeling it was something he would enjoy inflicting personally if he had the chance!”
“Then you will understand, Mama,” the Duke said, “that it would be criminal to let that young girl be forced to marry someone who is old enough to be her father.”
“I believe somebody told me that the Reverend Joshua’s wife died fairly recently,” the Duchess said. “But of course he is much too old for Matilda’s great-niece – what did she say her name was?”
“Anita.”
“At the same time,” the Duchess went on, “there is nothing I can do about it and I am quite certain that Matilda Lavenham would greatly resent my interfering in any way.”
There was silence for a moment and then the Duke said,
“I thought, Mama, that you needed a reader.”
The Duchess started indignantly.
There was nothing on which she prided herself more than that her eyes, unlike those of most of her contemporaries, were exceedingly good. She could see for a long distance and, what was more, she needed to use a magnifying glass only for the very smallest print.
She was just about to say that a reader was the last thing she needed, when, as the words came to her lips, she bit them back and instead, after a distinct hesitation, said tentatively,
“If you really – think that is what I require, Kerne, then I am sure you are – right.”
“I thought you would agree with me, Mama, and as you are leaving for home tomorrow, I think you would find it agreeable to have someone to read the newspapers to you on the long journey.”
“Are you suggesting that Anita Lavenham should come with me?” the Duchess enquired.
“It would be best if she came here tonight,” the Duke replied, “for I understand the amorous Parson will press his suit tomorrow at midday.”
“Then of course that must be prevented,” the Duchess agreed. “What do you suggest I do?”
“I have already ordered the carriage for you, Mama. I think if you drive to Miss Lavenham’s house and ask her, as a favour, to lend you her niece, she will be unable to refuse.”
“Yes, of course, dearest. Perhaps you will ring for Eleanor to bring me my bonnet and shawl.”
The Duke rose to his feet to pull the bell and the Duchess watched him with an astonishment that he did not perceive.
It was true that she had often accused him of being selfish and there had been many people who said he was spoilt because he had been a much cosseted only child.
The Duchess thought that in the years since he had grown up he had never shown the slightest interest in other people’s problems.
“Now I will set off once again for Harewood House,” the Duke was saying, “and I hope to have no more adventures on the way. Tomorrow I repair to Doncaster and I shall be at Ollerton in about two weeks’ time.”
“I have invited your guests to stay with us from the twenty-fifth,” the Duchess said.
“Thank you, Mama. And of course Brigstock will go back in the train to look after you during the journey and see that you have everything you require.”
“I am sure Mr. Brigstock will do that admirably,” the Duchess replied.
She held out her hands.
“Goodbye, dearest boy. Enjoy yourself at the races and I hope your horses win.”
“I shall be extremely annoyed if they fail.”
The Duke kissed his mother and hurried away as if he was anxious to be once again driving the chestnut horses that were waiting for him outside.
As she saw his broad shoulders disappearing through the door, the Duchess murmured beneath her breath,
‘A reader indeed! But I suppose it’s as good an excuse as any other!’
*
Anita, having hurried back on the Duke’s instructions to her great-aunt’s house, found that she was in for a scolding for having been away so long.
“There is plenty for you to do here, Anita,” Miss Lavenham told her severely, “without gallivanting off on your own, which is something I do not approve of.”
“I am sorry,” Anita answered humbly. “It was a nice day and I walked farther than I intended.”
“This craze for exercise amongst young people is quite unnecessary,” Miss Lavenham snapped, “especially when they are neglecting their duties. Hurry up and finish those letters so that you can give them to the Vicar when he calls tomorrow.”
She did not notice that Anita gave a little shiver when she thought of the real reason why the Reverend Joshua was calling the following day.
Already she was beginning to wonder frantically whether the Duke would keep his word and save her from what she thought would be a fate too horrible to contemplate.
It was all very well for Sarah to talk of their finding husbands, but Anita’s vivid imagination had already made her realise that having a husband entailed more than just bearing a man’s name and looking after his house.
What exactly it was, she had no real knowledge. She only knew that the idea of the Reverend Joshua touching her or kissing her was horrible and unnatural.
When she had seen him in the pulpit the first Sunday after she had arrived, she had thought him an ugly and boring man.
Accordingly, she had drifted away into one of her daydreams, which strangely enough concerned Lucifer, although the Reverend Joshua’s sermon in no way resembled the one given by the Reverend Adolphus.
‘How are thou fallen from Heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning!’
Anita repeated the words to herself and thought with a little smile that her Lucifer had fallen very comfortably into the position of a Duke.
When the Reverend Joshua had called later that afternoon for tea with her great-aunt Matilda, she had thought him even more unpleasant at close quarters than when he was officiating in the Church.
There was something smarmy and certainly slimy in the way he talked to her great-aunt, and Anita did not miss the glint of what she was sure was greed in his eyes when, as he was leaving, Miss Lavenham had handed him a sealed envelope.
“Just a little donation to your favourite charity, my dear Vicar,” she had said in a surprisingly soft voice.
Anita thought that perhaps she was being unjust, but she had a suspicion that the Reverend Joshua’s favourite charity would be himself.
He called very frequently, and it struck Anita th
e following Sunday that he held her hand in his wet and clammy one rather longer than was necessary.
She also heard him saying complimentary things about her to her great-aunt Matilda.
‘If he knew what I thought about him,’ she had told herself, ‘he would sing a very different tune!’
However, she had not thought of him more than she could help, and this morning she had been preoccupied and excited by the first letter she had received from Sarah, who had written,
“I cannot tell you how wonderful it is being in London with Aunt Elizabeth, and she has been kinder to me than I thought possible. The clothes she is giving me are lovely, so lovely that every time I put them on, I feel I am Cinderella and my Fairy Godmother has waved her magic wand over me.
Fancy I have an enormous crinoline and already there are four ball gowns hanging in my wardrobe besides a number of absolutely ravishing other dresses!
I want to tell you, darling Anita, about the balls I have attended and the reception at which Aunt Elizabeth actually presented me to Princess Alexandra, but I have no time now as I have to get ready for a large luncheon party.
I hope you are not too unhappy at Harrogate and I will write again as soon as it is possible. This is really just to tell you that I love you and wish you were here with me.”
Anita read the letter over and over again. She told herself that Sarah was so lovely that everybody would admire her and she was sure that she would find exactly the husband she desired.
She spent the morning daydreaming about Sarah and it was therefore a shock when, as luncheon ended, a plain rather dull meal, Miss Lavenham said,
“I wish to speak to you, Anita, before I go for my rest.”
Anita looked surprised, but she followed her great-aunt into the morning room which was adjacent to the dining room.
When they closed the door her great-aunt said,
“Sit down, Anita. I have something to tell you which I am sure, will make you realise what a very fortunate girl you are.”
It flashed through Anita’s mind that her aunt might be going to give her a new gown, but Miss Lavenham went on,
“You have met the Reverend Joshua Hislip here a number of times and listened to him in Church. You must realise he is a man of outstanding ability and character.”
Lucifer and the Angel Page 5