The Magnificent Marquis

by Barbara Cartland

  “Who is that?” Delisia asked apprehensively.

  It flashed through her mind that perhaps, after what he had said, there would be a lady aboard his yacht.

  If he was taken with her, she might well be irritated at his bringing another woman aboard – she might be only a child, but the lady concerned would want him to herself.

  Then to her relief the Marquis explained,

  “I am actually speaking about my valet. Hutton has been with me since I was a young boy and he and I have been in some very strange places and tough situations. He will be the only person aboard The Scimitar who I would trust to know who you really are.”

  He smiled before he added,

  “Having been with me so long, he knows I have no niece because, as it happens, I was an only child.”

  “Just like me, my Lord, I have often thought what fun it would be to have a brother. I always envied the girls at school when they talked about their large families.”

  “Well, if you have not had a brother, you will have to put up with an uncle!”

  “And a very kind and wonderful uncle, who came to my rescue when I was really desperate. When I say my prayers tonight, I will thank God over and over again that I found you and that you have been so kind to me.”

  “Don’t thank me just yet, Delisia. We have a lot of jumps ahead of us before we finally leave England. Only when we are a long way out to sea in The Scimitar will we be certain that you have escaped what would undoubtedly be a disastrous marriage.”

  He thought as he spoke that the very same applied to himself.

  He could think of nothing worse than being married to Silvia and, as he knew only too well, he would soon find her a bore and would start to look for new adventures.

  He was fully aware of the feeling of boredom that already crept over him when he arranged to see her.

  If she were his wife, it would be quite impossible to escape as he was doing now.

  In fact luck was treating him almost too generously.

  The Prime Minister’s request that he should go to Egypt had come at exactly the right moment.

  And now the answer to his need for an interpreter had dropped down like Manna from Heaven.

  He realised that he would be heavily handicapped if he were unable to understand the language of Egypt.

  *

  They drove on for over an hour and, when they were passing through a small town, the Marquis noticed a square where there were a number of expensive-looking shops.

  Almost instinctively he slowed his horses down and then he came to a standstill outside a shop that displayed a collection of ladies’ clothes in the window.

  “Shall we try in here for your clothes, Delisia?”

  To his surprise she shook her head.

  “No?” he questioned.

  “This is only a small town, my Lord, and you have caused much attention already with your outstanding team of horses – you also look very smart and rich!”

  The Marquis had to admit that she was right.

  “If we do shop here,” Delisia continued, “you will undoubtedly be remembered and if Papa makes enquiries and your description is given to him, he will know at once it was you.”

  “That is true and very bright of you, Delisia.”

  The Marquis then drove his team rapidly out of the town and once again they were on their way to London.

  He thought as he left the houses behind that Delisia certainly had brains – and that was more than he expected from most girls of her age – or any age for that matter.

  He had always taken a dislike to the endless stream of debutantes giggling with each other around the ballroom or being paraded in front of him by their ambitious mothers in the forlorn hope that he would find them attractive.

  He had even on some occasions been asked outright if he would care to dance with a debutante and had always managed to make some excuse, as he knew he would have nothing in common with her, however pretty she might be.

  Yet here was a young girl who really did look only fifteen years old and was almost teaching him his job.

  In fact he prided himself on being extremely clever at disguises, especially at appearing to be just an ordinary man of no standing rather than himself.

  “Yes,” he repeated, “very astute of you. For I am afraid that, when your father cannot find you, he is bound to suspect that I have taken you away.”

  “There was no one else calling at home today but the Comte,” Delisia answered, “and he is not expected until nearly dinner-time.”

  “Do you really think your father will follow us to London?”

  “I am hoping that he will realise too late, in fact just before the Comte arrives, that I am not in the house. He is used to my running away to hide after he has beaten me or screaming at me about something I have done.”

  “When did your mother die, Delisia?”

  “It seems a long time ago now, but actually it was only three years ago. I miss her terribly. She was the only person who could make Papa kinder and less cruel to me. But even she could not stop him beating me when I would not do something he wanted me to do.”

  She spoke quite naturally and yet there was a little sob in her voice and the Marquis knew it was because her mother was no longer with her.

  As if she realised that he was interested, she went on,

  “And it was Mama who persuaded Papa to send me to the Finishing School in Paris. She knew I was interested in other countries and languages and I was very happy there.”

  “You did not think of returning to your school and asking them to hide you from your father?”

  “I did not consider it. I know that they could not by law keep me against my father’s wishes and it would be very embarrassing for them if I begged them to hide me, which they would feel they ought not to do.”

  “So, if I had not turned up – ?” he began to ask and then he stopped, remembering what the alternative might have been.

  “I am not afraid of dying,” Delisia asserted. “But I feel it would be rather a waste and I have always believed that God would send me off on an adventure like this one, although I could not think how it could possibly happen.”

  “This will certainly be an adventure as soon as we can sail away,” the Marquis promised.

  *

  Later, when they were on the outskirts of London, he said,

  “Now do keep your eyes open for a large outfitting shop to provide you with everything you need. Although, of course, we could stop when we reach France or Italy.”

  “I still think I had better have at least a nightgown to wear, my Lord, and you will become extremely tired of this dress if you see it every day at breakfast, luncheon, tea and dinner!”

  The Marquis laughed as she meant him to do.

  “Actually it is most attractive, Delisia, but I would suppose it might be a little monotonous. In any case you must be dressed in such a manner that the Captain and the crew accept that you are only fifteen.”

  They were now driving in the Northern suburbs of the City and they came to a street lined with shops, among them a large establishment with bow windows displaying a variety of women’s clothes.

  “I think that will be a safe shop to visit, my Lord, as there is a place for the horses outside and they will not be too surprised at your smart appearance.”

  The Marquis drew his horses to an abrupt standstill and then he noticed a young lad who was obviously hoping to be given a chance to look after them.

  He touched his forelock and looked at the Marquis pleadingly.

  “As I have some shopping to do,” the Marquis said, “I will leave my horses in your charge, but be very careful to hold them steadily and not let them move about.”

  “I’m used to ’orses, sir.”

  The boy patted the first of the team as he spoke and the Marquis knew it to be a good sign.

  “We will not be very long, boy, but if you find you are in any trouble, send someone in to ask for me.”

&nb
sp; “Yes sir.”

  They walked into the shop that had quite a number of expensive items on show.

  A woman came forward.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?”

  “I want to speak to the manager or manageress, please. My name is the Marquis of Harlington and I am in a hurry.”

  “I will fetch the manager immediately, my Lord.”

  The woman scurried into the back of the shop.

  An elderly man, well dressed and speaking with an educated voice came towards them.

  “I am the Marquis of Harlington,” the Marquis said again, “and my niece, whom I have just collected from her school, has unfortunately been robbed of all her luggage.

  As we are leaving tonight for the Continent, I want you to fit her out at once with everything she will need.”

  “What you ask, my Lord, is not difficult and I can promise we’ll be as quick as we possibly can.”

  He called four women who were serving behind the counters and told them what was required.

  Then he asked the Marquis and Delisia to come into the back of the shop where there was a changing room.

  The Marquis kept glancing at his watch and they were obviously impressed by him.

  In what seemed a short time Delisia was provided with a number of pretty girl’s dresses, most of which were in white with a coloured sash.

  There were two coats to wear in case she was cold, besides several nightgowns and a dressing gown.

  Other more intimate garments Delisia chose herself without the Marquis’s involvement. However, he approved of some pairs of shoes and several pretty straw hats.

  Watching her choose what she wanted, the Marquis recognised that she had very good taste and was extremely intelligent.

  He had told her she would be travelling in a yacht and she therefore insisted on two dresses that were warmer than the one she was wearing, as well as suitable shoes for a heaving deck.

  He became aware that she had very determined ideas of her own as to what she should and should not wear – and anything that was obviously too fussy or unsuitable for a girl of fifteen she waved away.

  Less than an hour later they went outside with the clothes packed in two suitcases, which they had been able to buy at the shop as well.

  The Marquis had written out a large cheque for all the clothes they had bought.

  Delisia was already wearing one of the new young girl’s dresses as the Marquis had suggested so that he could introduce her convincingly as his niece when they boarded the yacht.

  The manager bowed them off the premises with all expressions of gratitude.

  To the Marquis’s relief, his team was still waiting, apparently quite unperturbed and the boy who had looked after them was so heavily tipped he was almost speechless with surprise and pleasure.

  “It was perhaps rather dangerous,” he admitted, “to give my real name, but they would have learnt it anyway from my cheque. It certainly made them hurry up quicker than they would have done if I had just been Mr. Bofkins!”

  Delisia laughed.

  “You don’t look like Mr. Bofkins! Incidentally that reminds me that I don’t know the Christian name of my uncle.”

  “That was certainly a slip, Delisia. I have a variety of names, but I am usually known as ‘Rex’. So to you I am ‘Uncle Rex’. But I think it would be a mistake for you to call yourself ‘Delisia’.”

  “Yes, of course, my Lord, I thought of that. If Papa heard you had someone called Delisia aboard your yacht, it would be fatal.”

  “I agree. So tell me what I should call you.”

  “I think that ‘Delia’ would be safe and as it is part of my name, I will not forget it.”

  “Very well, ‘Delia’ it is – it is a strange name, but then everything about today has been strange and certainly something I never expected in my wildest dreams.”

  “You have been so wonderful to me,” the newly named Delia sighed, “that I don’t know how to put into words how grateful I am and how thrilling it is for me to be leaving England.”

  She drew a deep breath before she added,

  “I will not feel really safe until there is a lot of sea between me and the Comte.”

  “Unless he has wings he will not be able to catch us and I gave no instructions in either of my households as to where I was going. I merely told them I was leaving to go abroad and they may assume I am going to Paris, as in fact I often do.”

  “I can see you are very clever,” said Delia, “and I have already guessed that you are going to Egypt not just for amusement, but because you have some serious work to undertake there.”

  “What sort of work do you imagine that I would be likely to do?” the Marquis asked mockingly.

  There was silence for a moment before she replied,

  “I think you are acting in a diplomatic capacity and perhaps the Prime Minister has sent you on some mission.”

  The Marquis stared at her.

  “How on earth,” he exploded, “did you come to that conclusion? Unless you are reading my thoughts.”

  “Please don’t be angry with me, my Lord, but I can read the thoughts of some people and I know whether they are good or bad because I can understand exactly what they are thinking.

  “The Comte is bad and wicked, and I don’t have to read his thoughts to be sure of it. I think you are what you are and that is an English gentleman in the best sense of the word, and you are kind, understanding and sympathetic to those who are in trouble – most of all, you hate cruelty in any form.”

  The Marquis stared at her.

  “How could you possibly know all this?” he asked. “Whether it is true or untrue, it is something I have never heard before from a woman.”

  Delia gave a little laugh.

  “If you go to Egypt, you must believe in your Third Eye. Surely you were taught that the Pharaohs always had one in the centre of their foreheads and it told them what to do and what made the Egyptian people follow them.”

  “Of course I have heard of the Third Eye, but I have never been credited with having one.”

  “But you know that it is there, my Lord, and that is what we will both need to use when we reach Egypt. But you have not yet told me what you are being sent to do and why you need an interpreter to accompany you.”

  “I will tell you later on, Delia, but at the moment you are really frightening me because you are not the least what I expected. I find it hard to believe that this conversation is actually taking place.”

  “If it upsets you, I will be very careful not to speak of it again, but it will be very difficult not to in Egypt, if we have to use our Third Eyes.”

  “Of course I want you to talk about it to me. I am only surprised, in fact astonished, that I am discussing such a subject with a woman, especially one who looks as if she is only fifteen!”

  Delia laughed and it was a very pretty sound.

  “Anything is better, my Lord, than that you should be bored with me before we have even left the road – now please tell me where we are going.”

  “We are going directly to my yacht, for the simple reason that I don’t want anyone in my house in Park Lane to see you. It is the first place your father will go to if he becomes suspicious that I have taken you away.”

  Delia gave a little gasp, but the Marquis continued,

  “I have always said that servants see more and talk more than most of us expect them to do.”

  “You are quite right about that and I promise you I will not talk to anyone or say anything you have not told me to say.”

  The Marquis smiled at her.

  “Thank you, Delia, and now I am going to take you to The Scimitar where one of my grooms will be waiting to drive the chaise back to my mews.”

  Delia was listening intently and he went on,

  “I want you to allow me to drop you off a little way along the Embankment, so that the groom will have driven away before you actually step onto the yacht. It is already getting dark and,
although I hate to leave you alone, I feel quite certain if you walk quickly towards the yacht where I will be waiting for you, you will come to no harm, and our one contact with my London house will already have left.”

  Delia clasped her hands together.

  “You are so clever,” she enthused, “and, of course, I will not be frightened. You are quite right not to let any of your servants see me.”

  Dusk was now approaching fast, although the sun had not yet completely disappeared.

  This meant that there were not many people about.

  The Marquis left Delia about a hundred yards down the Embankment.

  “You can see the yacht from here,” he said, “and, as soon as you see the horses drive away, you can run to join me.”

  He felt with her hair falling over her shoulders that she looked just like a child.

  It was unlikely that anyone would stop and speak to her, though a man might easily try to approach a grown-up woman.

  At the same time he was feeling worried – perhaps he should have thought of some other method to ensure the news would not be carried back to his house in Park Lane.

  He dropped Delia off, where to his relief, that part of the Embankment seemed empty of people.

  “Don’t talk to anyone and walk as fast as you can without overtaking the horses, Delia. If anyone does speak to you, tell them your uncle is just ahead.”

  “You think of everything, my Lord, and I am not frightened – at least not very much.”

  The Marquis drew the horses to a standstill.

  “You are quite certain you will not disappear into the sky?” she asked him, “and I will find that this is all just a dream!”

  “I will be waiting for you at The Scimitar and your Third Eye should be telling you that I am just as anxious to have you with me as you are to leave England.”

  She smiled at him and as she climbed down from the chaise, she cried,

  “You are wonderful! Wonderful! I am the luckiest girl in the world.”

  “I hope you will still be able to say that when we come back, Delia.”

  He did not wait for her answer, but drove on.

  To his relief he found his groom waiting just a few yards from where The Scimitar was moored and he took the two cases containing Delia’s clothes out of the chaise.