But Edgar had laughed at everything that was respectable and he disliked most of the people who wished to be friendly for the sake of the family.
He had made himself the leader of what was a raffish and ill-behaved, drunken crowd of young men, already notorious for their behaviour in London and the country. They had drunk and broken up several nightclubs where they spent most of their evenings.
They had arranged steeplechases where the competitors were usually so drunk that they had become involved in a series of accidents.
What was more, the Duke had already been reprimanded by Queen Victoria for allowing his brother to run riot in such a disreputable manner.
‘What can I do? Where have I failed?’ he had asked himself a hundred times and not yet found an answer.
As his anger gradually subsided, he told himself that perhaps this was indeed a chance not to be missed.
If Miss Vina Wallace was prepared to sell herself for a title, then she must be a tough young woman who could undoubtedly cope with Edgar and his peculiarities.
He thought things over for some time and then rang the bell for his secretary.
John Simpson had served with the Duke in the Horse Guards. When, on inheriting the title, the Duke left, he had asked Simpson to come with him as secretary or what was known in Royal circles as Comptroller, for he knew that he was a most able man.
Simpson jumped at the opportunity as he liked the Duke and admired him enormously.
Such a solution would solve his financial worries.
He took over the running of Quarington from a much older man and brought it to as near perfection as was possible.
Because he was a gentleman, the old servants who had been there for years liked him. They did not resent him tactfully suggesting new methods that they would have instinctively fought against had they come from anybody else.
Now as John Simpson, who was getting on towards forty, came into the room, the Duke said,
“General Wallace and his wife have just called on me.”
“I was aware of that, Your Grace.”
“You will hardly believe why they came!”
There was a mischievous twinkle in John Simpson’s eye as he replied,
“I think, Your Grace, that it concerned Lord Edgar.”
The Duke sat upright.
“How on Earth can you know that?”
“Even the bees carry news in this County from flower to flower!” John Simpson said. “And I heard two weeks ago that Miss Vina Wallace had inherited a fortune.”
“So you knew they would be suggesting that she should marry Lord Edgar?”
“Lady Wallace has always been extremely ambitious to move in the same set as Your Grace!”
The Duke could not help laughing.
“I cannot believe it, John. If you know all this, why did you not tell me?”
“I did not think about it until I learned that the General and Lady Wallace had been here and I guessed that they had actually been brave enough to approach you.”
“But you knew that they were thinking about it?”
“I was told by some mutual friends about a fortnight ago,” John Simpson replied, “what was Lady Wallace’s greatest ambition and that she had Lord Edgar in mind.”
“And what has he been up to now?” the Duke asked.
“He has lost a great deal of money on the Racecourse,” Simpson replied, “and he has also taken under his protection the most expensive young woman from the Olympic Theatre. Her carriage, horses and jewels are the envy of everybody else in her profession.”
The Duke was still for a moment.
Then he said,
“If he wants to live like a Maharajah, it is only poetic justice that he should spend a Maharajah’s money! Send for him, John, and say I wish to speak to him.”
Looking at his brother now, the Duke supposed that, as he was so good-looking, any woman would find it easy to forgive him his sins.
But he could not help thinking that Miss Wallace would need an iron determination and total insensitivity to cope with anyone who was so profligate where money was concerned.
As if he knew what his brother was thinking, Lord Edgar said,
“I suppose it is something I shall have to accept, but you had better give me a house where I can leave the blasted woman while I enjoy myself in London!”
“If she has any sense, she will tie up her money so that she can limit the amount you can spend,” the Duke remarked.
“In which case I will not marry her!” Lord Edgar replied.
“I have already pointed out that you really have no choice,” the Duke retorted.
“Well, don’t make things any more difficult for me than they are already,” Lord Edgar snapped. “If she wants my title, that is what she shall have. I want her fortune, but I am not having it doled out like a schoolboy’s pocket money!”
“That, of course, is up to you,” the Duke commented, “and I suppose the first step, if we are to behave correctly, is to ask the Wallaces to stay and for you to meet Miss Vina while she is festooned in the jewels which are part of the package!”
There was no mistaking the contempt in the Duke’s voice and Lord Edgar said,
“There is no point in being nasty about it, Alveric, at least you are off the hook.”
“That is true if a somewhat vulgar way of putting it,” the Duke agreed.
“Well then, stop bellyaching and let’s get on with it. There are one or two people who have to be paid immediately. I suppose you would not care to advance me five thousand pounds?”
“I would not!” the Duke said firmly.
“Very well then,” Lord Edgar said, “the sooner the marriage takes place the better! Which house are you going to give me?”
The Duke thought for a moment.
Then he said,
“The Dower House, I suppose.”
“That will do,” Lord Edgar agreed. “At least it is large enough to entertain in and, of course, we can always come here.”
He glanced at his brother as if for confirmation and the Duke responded,
“I will be delighted to welcome your guests so long as they are approved by your wife.”
“I thought perhaps you would like to meet Connie,” Lord Edgar jeered.
“If Connie is the woman who has got you into the mess you are in now,” the Duke replied, “I hope you will have the good sense and, of course, the decency to give her up.”
“You must think I am crazy!” Lord Edgar exclaimed. “Connie is without exception the most amusing and quite the most exotic charmer I have met for a long time. I grant you she is expensive, but she is worth every penny.”
“I can only hope that your future wife will think so,” the Duke said coldly.
He walked to the door, and then looked back, saying,
“As we don’t want it to appear as though you are rushing to get your hands on the Maharajah’s rupees, may I suggest that I ask the Wallaces and their niece to come here from next Friday until Monday and I will invite a few of my more respectable friends to meet them.”
He accentuated the word ‘respectable’ and Lord Edgar laughed mockingly.
“In which case it will be crashingly dull and I shall return to Connie on Monday morning as early as possible!”
The Duke was about to make some retort, but then decided that it would be undignified.
Instead he went out of the room closing the door quietly behind him.
He was aware, as he walked down the corridor, that his brother was laughing.
*
The butler proffered Lady Wallace a letter and, as she took it from the silver salver, she asked,
“Who is it from, Barlow?”
“It’s just been delivered, my Lady, by a groom from Quarington.”
Lady Wallace gave a start. There was a sudden glint in her eye as she carried the note to the writing table and slit it open.
She read its contents carefully and gave a little cry of delight.
<
br /> Then she ran down the passage to where her husband was sitting in his study, reading The Morning Post.
She burst into the room and ran to his chair, saying,
“He has agreed! Alexander, he has agreed!”
The General put down The Morning Post and looked up at his wife.
“Are you speaking of the Duke?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. He has agreed to what we suggested and has asked us to come and stay next Friday at Quarington!”
She gave another cry and added,
“I can hardly believe it! Oh, Alexander, we shall be able to go frequently to that wonderful house and, of course, meet the Duke’s friends!”
“I am surprised that Quarington agreed,” the General said slowly. “In fact I was convinced that he would refuse us categorically and without making any excuses.”
“I told you that Lord Edgar was desperate. In fact Edith Farringham said that her husband had told her he owes nearly fifty thousand pounds!”
“Stupid young fool! Why does he want to throw away money he does not have?” the General asked.
“He will have it now and Vina will be Lady Edgar Quary! Think of it, Alexander, she will have the entrée to Court circles and you may be quite certain that we shall be asked to all the houses that have looked down their noses at us up until now.”
The General was not listening.
He was reading the newspaper again and paid no attention as his wife stood reading the Duke’s note again. She thought how aristocratic his handwriting was.
“I am sure,” she continued, “when we are in London we will sooner or later be invited to Devonshire House.”
Her voice had a rapt note in it and, as if suddenly aware that his wife was still speaking, the General looked over his newspaper at her to ask,
“Have you told Vina?”
“Told her what?”
“That she is to marry Edgar Quary?”
“No, of course not! I did not wish to talk about it until it was a fait accompli. She is a very very lucky girl, as I hope she will realise.”
“You had better break it to her gently. After all it is she who has to marry him, not you.”
“Really, Alexander, you do say the most ridiculous things. Young girls, as you well know, marry whomever they are told to by their Guardians and I hope that one day Vina will thank us for all the trouble we have taken over her.”
Now there was a slightly plaintive note in the way Lady Wallace spoke, as if she realised that Vina would not be as grateful as she had at first expected.
Then she asked,
“Will you tell her or shall I?”
“As it was your idea in the first place,” the General replied, “I think it had better come from you. I confess I am very surprised that Quary, who is very conscious of his own importance, has agreed.”
“Of course he has agreed!” Lady Wallace said positively. “How could he do anything else?”
As he did not wish to be involved in an argument, the General went back to reading his newspaper.
Lady Wallace looked at the Duke’s letter once again and then, leaving the study, she walked into the hall.
“Do you know where Miss Vina is?” she asked the butler, who was tidying away the riding whips that lay on a table under the stairs.
“She is in the library, my Lady.”
“I might have guessed that,” Lady Wallace said with asperity and walked to the library, which was a somewhat bleak room where she and the General rarely went.
It was, nevertheless, lined with books, most of which had been inherited from the General’s father.
Lady Wallace had no time for reading, except, of course, for The Ladies Journal and the Court Circulars in the daily newspapers.
It had surprised her to find that her husband’s niece was content to sit hour after hour reading. What was more, since she had returned to England, Vina had spent quite a considerable amount of her money on books.
She was sitting now in the window, curled up in what Lady Wallace thought was a slightly unladylike manner. She was so intent on what she was reading that she did not hear her aunt approach her.
“Vina!” Lady Wallace exclaimed.
Her niece looked up with a smile.
“Did you want me, Aunt Marjory?”
“I cannot think what you are doing in here on such a lovely morning when you could be out in the garden.”
“I went riding before breakfast,” Vina replied, “and I was wondering whether Uncle Alexander would ride with me after luncheon.”
“You must ask him,” Lady Wallace said vaguely. “Now, listen, Vina, I have something to tell you that I know you might find very exciting.”
Vina’s large eyes were fixed dutifully on her aunt’s face.
Yet Lady Wallace had the impression that her thoughts were still with the book that she had been reading.
“Listen,” she said again, “we have been asked by the Duke of Quarington to stay with him next Friday.”
She waited for Vina’s cry of delight, but the girl only looked at her, asking in a puzzled voice,
“Have I met the Duke?”
“No, of course not.” Lady Wallace replied. “You would remember it if you had. He is very handsome and very important.”
“And you are pleased that we have been asked to stay?” Vina said, trying to fathom why they had been invited.
“Of course I am pleased,” Lady Wallace replied. “And so should you be too. It is a very great privilege to stay at Quarington, which is without exception one of the most magnificent houses in England.”
“Then I should like to see it,” Vina said, “and I expect they have a large library.”
“I am sure it is enormous,” Lady Wallace said vaguely. “But what is important, Vina, is that you are to meet the Duke’s brother, Lord Edgar Quary.”
Vina waited as if there should be some further explanation and Lady Wallace went on,
“I am sure he will be attracted to you and you by him. He is very handsome indeed.”
“What does he do?” Vina asked.
“Do?” her aunt repeated. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean is he a soldier – or a Member of Parliament?”
“He is neither,” Lady Wallace said sharply. “The Duke was a soldier for some years, but everyone is not like your father and your uncle, always wanting to order people about. Or kill them!”
“I know that Papa would never have killed anybody unless they had shot at him first,” Vina replied quickly.
“I am not concerned with your father at the moment,” Lady Wallace retorted. “We are talking about Lord Edgar. I want you to be very charming to him and, of course, very polite to the Duke, who is the Head of the Family.”
“Are they important to Uncle Alexander?”
“Yes, of course they are,” Lady Wallace replied. “And important to you too.”
“To me?”
The surprise in Vina’s voice made Lady Wallace hesitate before she said anything more.
Perhaps it would be better, she thought, if Vina met Lord Edgar without being self-conscious and shy.
It was something that she would undoubtedly be if she knew she was expected to marry a man she had never seen.
Therefore, with a smile, Lady Wallace said,
“What you and I have to do now, Vina, is to see that we have enough clothes to look smart, very smart, when we go to Quarington. Neither of us wants to be outshone or look like country bumpkins!”
Vina laughed.
“You could never look like that, Aunt Marjory!”
“And you also have to look your best,” Lady Wallace said, “so we had better slip up to London tomorrow and buy ourselves some really wonderful gowns in Bond Street.”
Vina closed the book and put it down.
Ever since she had come to England she had realised that the one thing her aunt really enjoyed was shopping. It was something she herself found rather irksome unless she could contriv
e to find a bookshop.
But, because she was sensitive, she realised from her aunt’s voice that this visit that they had been invited to was important.
“I will make all the arrangements,” Lady Wallace was saying, “and, if we leave early, we should be in London by about noon.”
“Very well, Aunt Marjory,” Vina replied.
She thought that her aunt was looking at her in a rather strange manner, but then, as Lady Wallace turned away, she told herself that she was imagining things.
‘Clothes, more clothes,’ she said to herself, and added, ‘Oh, Papa, if only you were here, everything would be so different.’
She had a sudden longing for India, for the heat, the slow-moving bare-footed servants, the punkahs swaying overhead and the creak of the waterwheel outside.
It would be a very unkind thing to say that she found England dull, for her uncle and aunt had been so good to her.
She longed for the men who had always been dropping in to see her father when she had been looking after him when her mother had died.
She loved the lessons that she had had from a schoolmaster, a retired Professor and an Indian, who had been to England and had obtained a Cambridge degree.
There was so much to learn, so much to hear and so much to feel.
Then she told herself that she was being very ungrateful and it was simply that the transition from one life to another had made her feel lost and lonely.
There was nobody she could talk to as she had been able to talk to her father and his Indian friends.
‘Oh, Papa,’ she cried in her heart, ‘why did you have to die and leave me all alone?’
Then, as if in answer to her question, she could see his face smiling at her.
His eyes seemed to twinkle as when they were engaged in a spirited argument that had kept them talking from the beginning of a meal to the end.
‘I am not really alone,’ she told herself.
She tried to talk to her father as she would have done had he been sitting beside her.
Chapter Two
The Duke had chosen his house party with much care.
He thought it would be a great mistake for it to be too small and even worse for it to be too big.
He also wanted to invite people who would not be particularly interested in what Edgar was doing so that he would have a chance to get to know Miss Wallace.
Little Tongues of Fire Page 2