The Magnificent Marquis

by Barbara Cartland

  “Take the horses back home carefully and slowly,” the Marquis ordered the groom. “They have come a good long way and very fast.”

  “I’ll see to them alright, my Lord, and I hopes your Lordship has a good voyage.”

  “I hope so too, Wilkins. Look after the horses until I get back.”

  “I’ll do that, my Lord.”

  “Thank you, Wilkins!”

  As the Marquis was speaking, he was carrying the cases towards the wall of the Embankment. Beyond it he could see the masts of The Scimitar.

  He reached the steps leading down to the water’s edge – and then, as he turned around, the chaise was already some distance away and Delia was running towards him.

  “Are you really still here?” she asked breathlessly. “I was half afraid that you might be some way down the Thames already.”

  “That is where we will be in a very short time,” the Marquis smiled at her. “Come aboard now and allow me introduce my charming young niece to the Captain of The Scimitar.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Captain welcomed the Marquis on-board The Scimitar and said how delighted he was to have his niece as a passenger.

  They walked into the attractively decorated Saloon and the Marquis realised without her saying anything that Delia appreciated it.

  “What we would really like,” the Marquis asked the Captain, “is something to eat. We have driven up from the country without stopping and we are both very hungry.”

  “I will tell the chef immediately, my Lord, and I am sure that he has your Lordship’s pâté sandwiches ready and that there is a bottle of champagne on ice.”

  “You think of everything, Captain, and you know I appreciate it.”

  The Captain smiled and left the Saloon.

  “I am glad,” said Delia, “you ordered something to eat. I could not eat any breakfast because I was so worried by what Papa had told me. And now I am starving.”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “I am feeling hungry myself and I promise you will not starve. My chef is excellent and you will scarcely be surprised to hear that he is French.”

  “Then we must be very careful what we say in front of him, as I believe there are many more French in Egypt than there are English.”

  “I will tell you about that later, but now let’s enjoy ourselves and be so thankful that we have escaped without being stopped by your father.”

  The yacht’s engines had begun turning as soon as they had come aboard and Delia was now aware that they were already moving into the middle of the Thames.

  “This is really the most exciting adventure that has ever happened to me, my Lord, and thank you, thank you for being so brilliant. At last I feel safe!”

  She seemed so thrilled that the Marquis felt as if he had really achieved something remarkable.

  He had been rather afraid that somehow at the very last moment Delia would be prevented from accompanying him on his journey.

  If she actually spoke Arabic as fluently as she said she did, she would be of enormous assistance to him once he arrived in Cairo.

  He felt if he told her exactly what he was trying to discover in Egypt, she might, by the sheer fact of speaking and understanding Arabic, provide him with the answer to the Prime Minister’s burning question.

  He poured a glass of champagne and held it out to Delia.

  To his surprise she shook her head.

  “Mama would never allow me to drink alcohol until I was seventeen and then only at Christmas and at special parties when I was allowed just a tiny sip in the bottom of the glass.”

  The Marquis smiled understandingly and asked,

  “In which case what will you prefer to drink?”

  “Fresh lemonade if possible or just water. I really do not mind. I have often thought that champagne, which people make so much fuss about, is overrated.”

  The Marquis chuckled.

  “Out of the mouths of babes and suckling’s,” he then quoted, “one certainly learns the truth, but thank you, Delia, for being so sensible.”

  He was surprised that she should be so perceptive about the champagne, but he knew that she was right.

  She looked very young with her lovely golden hair cascading down either side of her face.

  In the plain white gown she had been wearing ever since leaving the shop and which he was sure was just the right dress for a girl of fifteen to wear, she looked ethereal.

  “I will leave you alone for a moment, Delia, while I talk to my valet. As I told you, he will be the only one on board who will know the truth of who you are. I want to catch him before the crew tells him that I have brought my niece aboard with me. He might inadvertently say I don’t possess one.”

  That, in fact, was somewhat unlikely.

  Hutton had been with him on many secret missions and he never opened his mouth without thinking of what he was saying – in most cases asking the Marquis first.

  The Scimitar, which the Marquis was inordinately proud of, had not only been constructed to his own plans, but he had furnished it himself.

  For his cabin he had even brought in a four-poster bed that everyone thought was more suited to his ancestral home than to a yacht, but it was, as the Marquis pointed out, far more comfortable than the usual utilitarian bed fitted in a yacht.

  The same applied to all the other cabins where there were bunks that were nearly double the width of normal beds and each cabin was draped with curtains as if it was in a private house.

  The Marquis supervised the cabin furniture himself and made sure that every woman had enough drawers and hanging-space for her clothes.

  He had supposed that he would be regularly taking some lovely woman with him on his travels and she would expect to be made as comfortable as if in his home.

  He had found that all the old warnings about women at sea were true. His experience was that the female sex were a nuisance, either being seasick or demanding to go shopping at every port!

  If there happened to be more than one woman onboard, they would invariably end up by fighting with each other, either over the man who had invited them aboard or simply out of jealousy on some other account.

  The Marquis had at first tried holding two or three small house parties aboard his yacht, because he wanted to show it off when it was finished.

  He decided that each one had been, if not a disaster, at least a bore.

  He had then invited alone, one of his beauties who he was having an affaire-de-coeur with whilst her husband was in America, but she too had bored him long before The Scimitar had turned for home.

  It was then that he vowed that in future he would either travel alone or in the company of just one other man whose conversation interested him.

  What he actually preferred, he finally decided, was being alone.

  He liked to spend as much time as possible on the bridge with the Captain whom he found a most interesting man, quite apart from his Naval experience.

  Being at sea also gave him time to read, as when he was at home, he always found there was too much to see to and too much to do.

  It was inevitable therefore that he fell behind with his reading.

  His bookseller in Piccadilly delivered automatically all the new books that were really interesting, and he found nothing more enjoyable when at sea than lying in his large four-poster and reading a good book.

  He had had so many adventures himself, especially when he was in India and he therefore found the stories of others with more or less the same experiences fascinating.

  India had taught him to be always on guard and not to take anything for granted.

  Although the average sightseer was not aware of it, there was invariably a Russian agent peeping around every corner – spying out the land for the Czar and sending secret reports back to St. Petersburg.

  If he was to be in any way useful in Egypt, he knew that he must be always on the alert and it would certainly be of enormous help if Delia really were as fluent in Arabic as she
claimed.

  Equally he realised that by helping her to escape he was jeopardising his own future.

  As he had told Delia, if it became known that she, a debutante of eighteen had travelled alone with him on his yacht, her reputation would be completely ruined.

  And he would be forced to marry her.

  ‘I must be very very careful,’ he told himself.

  But he recognised that there was only one person who could really help him –

  One person who would be, in fact, a watchdog over the two of them and that was Hutton!

  Hutton was getting on for forty.

  He was a small and dark-haired man for whom the Marquis had a great respect and he had been in many tight corners with him, but never once had he lost his composure or become in any way hysterical or even afraid.

  In addition he had been instrumental in saving his Master’s life on at least two occasions.

  “They ought to give you a medal for what you have done,” the Marquis had praised Hutton.

  “It’d only be a nuisance, my Lord,” he had replied. “People’d want to know why I’d won it and you knows as well as I do that it’s the least said the better, where we be concerned.”

  The Marquis knew this to be true.

  “Keep any medals and everythin’ else till I retires,” Hutton had blustered. “Then, my Lord, you can put ’em in the grave with me and where I goes I ’opes there’ll be no nosey-parkers pokin’ round to see why I won it!”

  The Marquis had laughed, as it was impossible to do anything else.

  But when Hutton did save his life, he refused to take any credit for it and what was more, he would not allow the Marquis to increase his salary.

  “What you and I does together, my Lord, be our own business and what you gives me is all I requires at the moment. Perhaps when I’m in a wheelchair, I’ll ask you to pay for someone to push it!”

  It was just the sort of answer that Hutton made to everything in life.

  The Marquis often considered that he enjoyed being with Hutton on his trips more than with anyone else.

  *

  He now found Hutton in his cabin and the door to the cabin allotted to Delia was open.

  He knew that Hutton would look in surprise at the contents of the suitcases they had brought with them from the shop, so he walked into his own cabin and closed the door behind him.

  Hutton, who was hanging clothes up in a cupboard, turned round.

  “Evenin’, my Lord, you was ’ere much quicker that I ’spected, thinkin’ you’d have to listen to a lot of that talk at The Priory.”

  “I didn’t stay as long as I intended, Hutton, because I had to visit Lord Durham. When I was there, I found that he was ill-treating his daughter in a way that shocked me considerably.”

  “It don’t surprise me a bit. His Lordship overrides and be ’orribly rough with his ’orses, beatin’ ’em at times unmercifully.”

  “You never told me about that before, Hutton!” the Marquis exclaimed.

  “What was the point? Your Lordship has enough troubles of your own without worryin’ about him.”

  The Marquis was quiet for a while and then he said,

  “He was not beating his horses when I went to call on him, but threatening to thrash his daughter if she did not marry a man she utterly disliked.”

  Hutton was listening although he did not speak.

  “As you may have guessed, Hutton, when she ran away from her father and the man he was compelling her to marry, she begged for my help. So I have brought her on board with me.”

  “It be strange after all your Lordship has said, that we should have female company,” Hutton remarked. “But I suppose your Lordship knows what you’re a-doin’.”

  “Of course I do and, if it is ever discovered, I will be obliged to marry her. I am looking to you, Hutton, to save me as you have done in the past. You must make sure that everyone on The Scimitar, especially the Captain and the crew, all believe her to be my niece.”

  He saw Hutton was turning this over in his mind.

  “I don’t suppose anyone aboard has been lookin’ at your Lordship’s family tree. But what about them as we’ll meet when we gets to Egypt?”

  “It has been worrying me even before I went to see Lord Durham, as I had already asked the Prime Minister to find an interpreter for me in Arabic and he said they were difficult to find.”

  He paused and could see that Hutton was listening although he made no comment.

  “What I discovered when Miss Delia asked for my help was that she speaks fluent Arabic.”

  Hutton’s eyes lit up.

  “Well, that’s somethin’ your Lordship’ll definitely find useful and you can bet your very last shillin’ that them Gippies, like all those other natives never say to you what they be thinkin’.”

  “I know, Hutton, and I believe Miss Delia will be most useful to us. She is, however, pretending to be only fifteen, and you must make quite certain that no one thinks for a moment that she is any older – ”

  Hutton said nothing and the Marquis knew he was thinking that it would be impossible to disguise as a young girl a woman who was old enough to be married.

  He thought that Hutton would have a surprise when he saw Delia.

  He therefore commented,

  “She will be in her cabin shortly and I am sure that when you have unpacked for her, you will see that we have bought exactly the right clothes for a girl of that age. You may find it difficult yourself to think that she is any older.”

  “I just ’opes, my Lord, that Arabic be as clear to her as it ain’t to your Lordship or to me. She may well be a blessin’ in disguise.”

  “That is what I believe her to be and she is indeed in disguise. I am relying on you, Hutton, as I always have, to make sure that no one is suspicious about her.”

  “Leave it to me, my Lord. I just ’ope we’re not putting our ’eads into nooses!”

  “I hope so too,” the Marquis agreed heartily.

  He washed his hands in the bathroom which opened out of his cabin.

  Then he left the cabin intending to go on deck.

  As he passed the cabin that Delia was to use, he saw she was already opening the cases they had brought from the shop.

  “I have instructed my valet, Hutton, to unpack for you, Delia, but as you are here, I want you to meet him.”

  “Of course, my Lord, and this is such a delightful cabin. I do think you have decorated it beautifully and I am thrilled there is so much room for my clothes.”

  That was just the sort of praise the Marquis liked to hear, so he smiled at Delia before responding,

  “I have learnt, and it was indeed a hard lesson, that all women need plenty of drawer and hanging-space and I see you are no exception.”

  “I am really thrilled with my new clothes, my Lord, and I have not really said thank you to you for them.”

  “You will thank me by wearing them, Delia, and if you are thinking of changing for dinner, the answer is no, because dinner is now ready. As I have already said, I am famished.”

  He put out his hand.

  “Come and meet Hutton. He is such an important person in my life and I am sure he will be in yours too.”

  He took her into the Master cabin.

  Hutton rose as they entered.

  “I found Miss Delia in her cabin, Hutton, so I have brought her in to meet you. I told her you will maid her far better than any lady’s maid or nanny she has ever had!”

  Delia held out her hand.

  “His Lordship was saying so many flattering things about you, Hutton, that I was almost afraid that I might be disappointed!”

  Hutton laughed – it was the sort of remark he really enjoyed.

  “We’ll just have to wait and see, Miss Delia, and I can only congratulate his Lordship on havin’ found you.”

  “I think as a matter of fact,” Delia answered him, “I found him, but he has been so kind and understanding and I am very very happy to be on-
board this lovely yacht.”

  “Which, thank Heavens, boasts a good chef,” the Marquis interrupted. “I am longing for my dinner.”

  “So am I,” agreed Delia.

  As she turned towards the door, she smiled again at Hutton.

  “His Lordship says that you will kindly unpack my clothes. Thank you very much. I am so glad not to have to do it myself.”

  “You leave ’em all to me, miss, and you’ll have no need to worry about ’em again.”

  The Marquis was already past the door and walking towards the companionway.

  Delia ran after him and slipped her hand into his.

  “He is so like a character from a book,” she said in a whisper. “How could you be lucky enough to have found anyone like him?”

  “Hutton has been with me for many years. He is more amusing and reliable than anyone I have ever met.”

  “I think that is the nicest compliment you could pay anyone and I should feel honoured if you said it about me.”

  “I will let you know if you deserve it at the end of the journey,” the Marquis laughed.

  “I will be waiting, but I can see you are intending to be very critical.”

  “Of course I am,” the Marquis retorted. “You have to pay for your passage by proving you are as efficient as you have told me you are!”

  It was impossible for Delia to answer him as they had by now reached the Saloon.

  Two Stewards were waiting to serve dinner.

  The Marquis sat down at the top of the table and he indicated to Delia to sit on his right.

  Before the first course could be served, the Marquis whispered to her,

  “Now you must remember, Delia, that from now on in front of the servants you are to call me ‘Uncle Rex’.”

  The first course was delicious and was followed by two further courses that only a superb French chef could have concocted.

  Finally after coffee and the Marquis had accepted a liqueur, the Stewards withdrew.

  When the door was closed, Delia sighed,

  “Now I do feel much better. I was so hungry I was beginning to think I might float away and you would have to manage the rest of your journey without an interpreter!”

  “I realised we were both hungry, Delia, but to have stopped at any of the inns that we passed would have been playing directly into your father’s hands. We would have been exposed if he enquired as to whether there had been a customer with four magnificent stallions and a very pretty young woman with him.”