Finally on the following morning he was aware that everything had fallen into place just like a jigsaw puzzle.
Lord Pronett was now dead and there was no one to mourn him.
He would be extremely stupid, which he was not, if he did not recognise the possibilities for himself.
First of all he would change the will, naming his son Frederick Pronett as sole legatee.
This was easy for him to do, as the will had been made nearly twenty years earlier and there was no one to even remember its existence.
Secondly Lord Pronett had died ostensibly without an heir to his title.
‘But who is to know? Who can possibly say that Lord Pronett was not married twenty-nine years ago and I was born the following year?’ Freddie asked himself.
There was no one around to know.
If questions were asked in the village, it would be pretty easy to convince them that Lord Pronett had treated him like a son, but had kept his identity a secret.
This was because he had married a wife who was well-known to be a Royalist – Lord Pronett was therefore frightened that his son might become another victim of the Cromwellians.
Freddie thought it all out very carefully as if it was a story someone was telling him.
He then decided that his mother’s family had been well respected and had always been accepted at the Royal Palace.
She had been engaged, he also decided, to someone of rank in Court circles, but she had then fallen in love with Lord Pronett when he was still a young man and had not yet succeeded to the title. They had run away and married on the eve of her wedding day.
They had hidden themselves in the country, moving from place to place, until finally old Lord Pronett, living in the family house, died.
His son inherited his title together with everything else he possessed.
For a long time because they were frightened of the Cromwellians, he, Freddie, had been hidden away by his mother’s friends.
When they too passed on to a better world and he was forced, because he had nowhere else to go, to come to live with his father.
To his neighbours in Norfolk Lord Pronett had been a lonely unmarried man with apparently few acquaintances to keep him company.
Freddie had then become his father’s secretary and had of course been believed.
As he turned the whole plot over and over in his mind, Freddie thought it was a foolproof story.
After all there was no one in the least interested who could find fault with it or claim the title.
So he took over the house and estate and only let the Vicar into the secret that he was in fact the old man’s son.
The Vicar who was new to the district was most impressed and he had agreed with Freddie that he would be wise to keep his real name secret.
He must continue to remain as Freddie Brown until the Stuarts returned to their rightful place.
Because he was lonely, although he was now rich, Freddie felt the past years had taken a long time to pass.
Yet he was too wise to make any move until King Charles had been crowned and he then knew that his story would now reach a new chapter.
Now at last he could do what he had always wanted to do, he could go to London as Lord Pronett and ingratiate himself with the King.
Because he was intelligent he had read everything he could about the Stuarts and their predecessors.
He had also learnt by reading the newspapers that King Charles II was very depressed at finding his father’s art collection had been sold.
This Freddie recognised at once was his dream-card that would move him into the Royal circles quicker than anything else.
He must, however, wait until the Coronation had actually taken place.
He found the months passed incredibly slowly and his impatience grew day by day until he could finally set out for London.
He had prepared everything ready for the moment he could leave – his clothes, his wide knowledge of Court protocol and, most importantly of all, two pictures that he was taking to the King as a gift.
Finally he arrived at the Palace of Whitehall.
When he told the Lord Chamberlain who he was and what he had brought for King Charles, he was taken into the Royal presence almost immediately.
It took four footmen following behind him to carry the Van Dyck and the Holbein masterpieces he had taken off the walls of Pronett Hall.
They were, he knew, the very best of the real Lord Pronett’s collection.
The King was naturally delighted with them and he took Freddie to see the gallery where the pictures he had already collected were hanging.
Freddie had taken a great deal of trouble in learning all about the great artists and he found that he knew even more about art than the King himself.
They had a most interesting and learned discussion.
“I am exceedingly grateful to you for your gifts,” said the King, “and you must tell me where you are living, Lord Pronett.”
Freddie made an expressive gesture with his hands.
“I have been living in the country ever since I was a small boy, Sire, simply because my father had a title and our family had always been supporters of the Stuarts. He was always a likely victim of the Cromwellians.”
“Of course you must have been too, Lord Pronett, and it was stupid of me to ask the question. I am sure your family is a very ancient one.”
“Very ancient indeed, Sire, but I am afraid there are not many of us left.”
The King smiled.
“Then it is obvious that is something you will have to put right. As I have to marry, you will have to think of it too and it should be quite simple for you to find a really suitable bride here in London.”
He offered Lord Pronett a room at the Royal Palace while he searched for a house or a flat in the City.
*
And so it was hardly surprising that he soon met the Countess of Dalwaynnie.
She learnt from the Gentlemen-in-Waiting who he was and that he was extremely well off with a large estate in Norfolk.
The Countess had already made up her mind that Nancy should marry Clive, the Marquis of Morelanton.
She was well aware that Bruce had hidden him after the Battle of Worcester and that it was Alissia’s locks of hair that had been so instrumental in saving his life.
So she was determined that Clive should not meet Alissia until he was irrevocably engaged to Nancy.
The Countess herself was extremely crafty when she wanted her own way and she managed to manoeuvre Clive into dancing with Nancy more than once at every party.
Even when, shortly before the Coronation, Alissia came to London with her father, the Countess told Clive that she was still in the country and she then contrived to entertain him in their Apartment when Alissia had gone out with her father – perhaps down the river or to see the sights of London which he was only too eager to show her.
All the more she liked her idea that if Lord Pronett married Alissia, he would take her away to the house he was always talking about in Norfolk.
And that would definitely leave the way clear for Nancy to marry Clive.
She had already played on his feelings by telling him how fond her husband was of him.
And it was obvious that Clive must reply that he was alive only because of the cleverness of Nanny and also thanks to the horse Bruce had given him, which had carried him safely away to Scotland.
“Of course you want to show him how grateful you are,” said the Countess, “and, as he is so fond of you, I can think of no better way than that you should become one of the family.”
She had made this very clear as soon as they had met while Alissia and her father were still in the country.
The King, because he was very fond of him, was determined if he had to be married Clive should be married too.
“Have a good look around, Clive,” he suggested, “and see which of the women, and Heaven knows there are enough of them, is likely to be more complacent and easier
to manage than the others.”
Clive knew quite well what the King meant by that comment.
The Queen naturally had made a huge scene about Barbara Castlemaine being at Hampton Court.
There was little doubt that Barbara always looked exquisitely lovely.
Her dark hair with its auburn glints would shake a little when she laughed and it seemed to catch the sunshine and she was more elaborately dressed than any of the other women who were there to attend on Her Majesty.
She might have been a little apprehensive about the position she found herself in, but she gave the strongest impression of being absolutely sure of herself.
It struck Clive, as it had so many other people, that Roger Palmer, now the Earl of Castlemaine, was a pathetic figure in many ways.
He was powerless to control his wife and he had undoubtedly raged against her in private, yet was obliged publicly to accept the title she had earned by her infidelity with the King.
Watching them at Hampton Court, Clive saw him elegantly dressed and wearing a curled periwig, which was not particularly becoming to his pale and somewhat insipid face.
There was no doubt that his wife saw him approach but she did not acknowledge him until he was beside her.
Then she glanced round and gave a start of surprise and made him a rather mocking curtsy, which he returned with a courteous bow.
As he turned away without speaking, Clive knew that he bored her and she irritated him.
‘That is what I myself might be doing,’ he reflected with utmost horror, ‘if I stay at Court and marry the wrong girl.’
In point of fact because he had been so besieged by his relations, he had been thinking seriously of marriage.
He did not envy the King marrying a woman he had never even seen, however attractive the reports might have been about her.
He told himself he had no intention of marrying anyone like Barbara Castlemaine, who would be so openly unfaithful to him.
Even as he was ruminating about himself, he was aware that the Countess of Dalwaynnie was near him.
“I am so glad you are here,” she simpered. “I want you to be kind to my little Nancy when the Court returns to Whitehall. She is feeling rather left out since only a few girls of her own age have had the privilege of meeting the new Queen.”
Clive was silent for a moment.
He realised only too well what would happen if he appeared interested in Nancy.
If he spent any of his time with her, he would put himself in a hopeless position and the older ladies of the Court would say he had made his intentions obvious.
He would therefore be obliged, whether he wanted to or not, to offer her marriage.
Equally he could never forget for a moment how much he owed Bruce.
Then to his relief there was a sudden surge towards the door, as obviously either the King or the Queen was approaching.
“Please do forgive me,” he murmured hastily to the Countess, bowed and hurried away.
*
When the Court moved in dramatic style down the river back to Whitehall, the Countess made up her mind that Clive should become engaged to Nancy as quickly as possible.
As they all arrived at the door of their Apartment, Alissia ran to greet her father.
As she did so, the Countess could not help noticing how lovely and elegant she looked.
And this convinced her that she must be removed as quickly as possible from the Palace.
At first she thought she might send Alissia back to Worcestershire and then she realised that Bruce would not agree as he loved having his daughter with him in London.
Later the Countess met Lord Pronett again and she found him sitting next to her at a party given immediately after the Court’s return to Whitehall.
She sensed again even more urgently that here was the lifeline she needed.
There was indeed something about him that made him seem a little different from the other gentlemen at the table, but that did not worry her.
“I am very anxious, Lord Pronett,” she began, “for you to help me with my stepdaughter. She is not in the least happy because she is suddenly being pursued by a most unpleasant fellow of whom we all disapprove.”
She gave a deep sigh before she continued,
“I am frightened, really frightened, that he may hurt her in some way. Will you come and meet her tomorrow morning when she takes her dog for a walk in St. James’s Park?”
“I would be delighted to do so,” replied Freddie.
It was important for him to become intimate with people who were close to the King and there was no doubt that the King was particularly friendly and respectful to the Earl of Dalwaynnie.
*
The following morning Alissia went outside for her usual walk with Jimbo.
To her surprise her stepmother, who was normally up late, was already there and talking to the man she had met before and disliked.
“Oh, there you are, Alissia,” the Countess smiled. “You know Lord Pronett, of course. He is particularly keen on dogs and tells me that he wants to buy one like Jimbo.”
This was something new to Freddie, but he did not deny it.
“I feel sure,” replied Alissia, “that Lord Pronett will be more interested in the King’s dogs, which should be appearing at any moment.”
Even as she spoke there was a sound of barking as the King’s spaniels emerged from their kennels and were passing on their way to the Park.
Alissia waved to her friend, Bill.
As he watched her, Freddie felt that she was the most attractive and beautiful girl he had ever seen.
If he could marry someone like her, he thought, she would certainly grace his house in the country – and she and her aristocratic family would make it possible for him to be regularly in attendance at the Royal Palace.
He had made up his mind the moment he arrived that this was the world he wished to live in and this was indeed possible as he had claimed to be a loyal Royalist throughout the Cromwellian times.
And everybody believed him to be the genuine Peer he claimed to be.
He was quite prepared to marry anyone to further his ambitions, but he could never have imagined he would be more or less offered anyone so lovely or so ethereal as Alissia.
She was now patting the King’s dogs with the sun shining on her golden hair and the dogs seemed to greet her as enthusiastically as she greeted them.
Watching Lord Pronett, the Countess knew that she had scored a victory.
She quickly drew him away to talk to him privately.
Now it would not be difficult to put into operation her scheme for Nancy.
She had been worried ever since she had arrived at the Palace that Clive would see Alissia and if he did so, he would undoubtedly be only too willing to repay his debt to her husband by asking Alissia to be his wife.
It was all, she told herself, a question of timing and that meant that the quicker Alissia was out of the way the better.
“I am so concerned about her,” she cooed in a soft voice to Freddie. “This man pursuing her is completely relentless. Although my husband does not listen to me, I am really afraid, because, although you may well feel that I am being hysterical, I think he might kidnap her.”
“Kidnap her!” exclaimed Freddie.
“When a man becomes infatuated by a woman he will do anything to get his own way and, although I will do my best, I cannot protect Alissia all the time.”
“No, of course not,” he answered vaguely.
When the keeper passed on into the Park, Alissia began to walk slowly and rather reluctantly back towards where she thought her stepmother might be.
It was then, before the dogs were out of sight, that the King, accompanied by Clive, came out of another door with tennis rackets in their hands.
Alissia stopped still.
She was right in the path of the two men.
Only as they reached her, did she remember to drop a deep curtsy.
Even as
she did so, Clive exclaimed,
“Alissia! You must be Alissia! It is you. I have been hunting for you everywhere and had been told you were in the country!”
“No, I came here with Papa over two months ago,” Alissia replied. “I was so hoping that I would see you – ”
“And I wanted to see you too – ”
“Now what is all this!” asked the King. “And why, Alissia, have you been hiding yourself? I have asked your stepmother where you were and she has told me you were in Worcestershire.”
“I came to London when my Papa came, Sire,” she repeated.
“Then you have been hiding yourself from me,” the King said, “and I am most upset that you did not come to Hampton Court.”
“I was really longing to come, Sire, but I was not invited. Please do not be angry with Stepmama. It would upset Papa.”
“Which of course we must never do,” laughed the King.
He glanced at Clive as he spoke and realised that while he was talking, he had been gazing at Alissia.
There was an expression in his eyes that the King had not seen before.
“I believe, Clive, that this is the young lady whose hair saved your life,” he remarked.
“That is indeed true, Sire, and I have been looking for her ever since.”
“I am not at all surprised,” muttered the King. “I intend to invite you, Lady Alissia, to come and dine with us soon. Actually it is a command, so you cannot refuse!”
“Your Majesty is very gracious and I would love to dine with you. It is an honour I have been hoping for ever since I arrived in London.”
“And Clive had just said that he has been looking for you. But now I must take him away, because we are about to play a game of tennis.”
The King turned away as he spoke, but Clive turned back to ask Alissia,
“Why have you kept away from me? I had no idea that you were here in London all this time.”
“Do you really still have my two pieces of hair?” she then him asked coyly.
“Of course I have, Alissia, and I intend to show you them at the first opportunity!”
He smiled at her in a way that made her remember how he had kissed her all those years ago.
Then with an obvious effort he ran after the King, who by this time had reached the gate that led to the tennis court.
A Royal Love Match Page 7