Over five hundred people had been expected as guests at the wedding.
The Church had been decorated, the Archbishop of Canterbury was to marry them, and several members of the Royal Family were to be present in the congregation.
To leave all that and run away with the Curate of her father’s parish in the country seemed unthinkable.
Daniel Forde was the third son of a well bred country gentleman who had no reason to be ashamed of his lineage. His father was a third Baronet, but there was little money.
While Sir Matthew Forde could provide for his eldest son, who would succeed to the Baronetcy and for his second to join a not too expensive Regiment, there was nothing left for the third.
Daniel, therefore, because it was traditional, went into the Church, although he would have preferred, if he had had the choice, to join the Navy.
He was not only strikingly good-looking and exceedingly charming but he was also a man of great compassion and understanding of other people’s problems.
It therefore turned out that he had made a remarkably good Parson, as he loved people for what they were and not for what they pretended to be.
He found that the difficulties and worries of his flock became his personal problems, so that he exercised his brain as well as his heart in doing his best to solve them.
It was obviously impossible for him to return with Lady Louise to Chessington village after they had run away.
His father, therefore, in consultation with the Bishop who, fortunately, was an old friend, arranged for Daniel to be appointed Vicar to a small village in Worcestershire.
It was assumed that their presence there would offend no one and their social crime would soon be forgotten.
Actually, there was very little social life in their new Parish, which suited Lady Louise, who wanted only to be alone with the man she loved.
They were supremely happy with their only child until, as Ula grew older and, as her mother saw, very lovely, she wondered how it would be possible for her ever to meet the right sort of man she could marry.
There was, however, no chance of her being forgiven by her own family for refusing to marry the Duke and Daniel’s father was now dead.
His two elder brothers were both struggling to live on small incomes with a number of sons, each of whom demanded an education which they found very expensive.
“If only Ula could have a Season in London,” Lady Louise had said once to her husband.
Then she regretted she had spoken. It still hurt him to think that he had deprived her of so much when she had preferred to marry him rather than a wealthy and important Duke.
“I am afraid, my dear, the only thing we can afford is tea on the lawn or perhaps a few people for supper in the Vicarage,” he had replied.
Lady Louise laughed.
“Whom could we invite?” she asked. “You know most of the so-called gentry around here have ‘one foot in the grave’, and all the young men in their families gravitate as soon as they are old enough to London and away from the quiet of the country.”
“That is what we want,” Daniel Forde said fiercely.
He had taken his wife in his arms and kissed her.
“I love you!” he declared. “Is that not enough?”
“It is all I have ever wanted and what I have!” Lady Louise had answered softly. “But I was talking about Ula, darling, and not me.”
“We shall just have to pray that something turns up,” Daniel Forde said optimistically.
He had then kissed his wife again so that there was no chance of her saying any more.
It was after her father and mother’s funeral that Ula’s uncle had taken her back to Chessington Hall. He was grumbling all the time over what an expense she would be and how the last thing he wished to do was to revive the memories of her mother’s disgraceful behaviour by allowing her to meet his friends.
“Surely, Uncle Lionel, you are glad Mama was so happy?”
“If she was, she had no right to be,” her uncle replied harshly. “She behaved abominably and, although Avon married subsequently, I am sure he had never forgiven her for insulting him in such an outrageous fashion.
It was something Ula was to hear over and over again in the months to come.
Although it hurt her like the stab of a knife every time she heard her mother decried, it was impossible for her to answer her uncle or defy him without being beaten for doing so.
The first time he struck her she could hardly believe it was really happening. Her father had never in his whole life raised his hand to her and, even when she was a child, had never punished her, except by speaking to her severely.
Then, when her uncle continued to beat her on every occasion he could find an excuse to do so, she realised that it was because he was still infuriated that he could not call the Duke of Avon his brother-in-law.
It was also a humiliation that his sister had caused such a scandal.
On the other hand Ula knew that the Countess disliked her because she resembled her mother.
Although she had produced such an exceptionally beautiful daughter, the Countess herself was a plain woman.
The beauty in the family came from Lady Louise’s mother, who had been not only a famous beauty, but a woman of great charm and goodness and who was the daughter of the Marquis of Hull.
Sarah was always told that she resembled her grandmother and Ula, having seen portraits of the Countess, knew that this was true.
Her own looks were, however, different from Sarah’s.
Although she resembled her grandmother in her colouring, she had her father’s eyes and, while she was unaware of it, his character, which was exceptional.
Daniel Forde had talked to his daughter since she was very small as though she was grown up and could understand exactly what he was saying.
His philosophy of life, his kindness, his understanding of other people, had therefore been transmitted to her.
She had inherited not only this as his child but he had also communicated to her the wisdom of his experience and made her aware, as he was, that everyone one met in the world was a human being like one’s self.
Ula had therefore grown up perceptively aware of other people’s inner selves in a manner that was exceptional for a girl of her age.
She had known, as no one else would have, the reason that she had been treated so hatefully and cruelly at Chessington Hall. Even though she understood it, it did not make the pain of it any easier to bear.
Night after night she had cried despairingly into her pillow, telling her father and mother how unhappy she was and finding it unbearable that they should have left her alone.
She was living with people who both condemned and punished her for sins that she herself had not committed.
“Save me – Papa – save – me!” she had cried out the night before the Marquis had called on Lady Sarah.
When driven beyond endurance by Sarah’s blows, by her uncle’s threats and the fact that she was given so many services to perform and was punished when she was slow at carrying them all out, she had run away.
It was then that her father, by sending the Marquis to rescue her, had answered her prayers.
Every night since she had come to London she had thanked him on her knees and again before she had gone to sleep.
‘How could I doubt that Papa would save me?’ she asked herself every morning.
She was sure when she put on the party gown that the Duchess had bought for her that her mother was looking at her approvingly from the other world, where one day she would join her.
‘I am so happy, so very very happy! I feel it cannot be true!’ she told herself on Friday morning.
By the time she had seen the ballroom decorated with garlands of flowers, with pink candles instead of white in the sconces and chandeliers, which the next day would be the talk of London, she was saying it again.
How could any girl not be happy when she had even more gowns to wear than she had ever ima
gined even in her dreams?
Then the Marquis had a new idea, which again would give the gossips something to talk about.
He had erected a small fountain in the anteroom of the ballroom which sprayed, instead of water, a delectable perfume of roses.
“How clever of you to think of it, Drogo,” the Duchess had said.
“I must be honest and say that I saw something very like it in Paris when I was in the Army of Occupation,” the Marquis replied. “But I think mine is an improvement because the fountain in Paris sprayed champagne!”
“I think scent is far more suitable for a debutante,” the Duchess agreed.
To Ula it was the most fascinating toy she had ever imagined.
She realised that the Marquis had exercised all his ingenuity to make the ball different from any other ball that had taken place recently in London, especially in regard to the decorations.
Not only were the candles pink but the flowers were all pink and white and the chefs had been instructed to see that the supper echoed the same colours.
Up the stairway that led to the ballroom there were great banks of pink and white flowers.
The Marquis had arranged that at midnight, pink and white balloons should be released from the top of the house.
They would float down into the garden, where Chinese lanterns hung from the trees and the paths around the lawn and amongst the flower beds were picked out with fairy lights.
It was all so beautiful that Ula was quite certain that no one would look at her.
But the gown the Duchess had ordered for her was as unusual and sensational as was everything else.
Because it was correct that Ula should wear white, her gown was white, but with a difference.
Underneath it there was a silver sheath which fitted close to her body.
There was a fringe of diamante falling around the hem and hanging from the exquisitely cut bodice, which revealed the curves of her figure and set off the translucent whiteness of her skin.
Every time she moved she shimmered and glittered almost like a fountain and there were diamonds sprinkled in her fair hair and on her shoes, which peeped from beneath the hem of her gown.
She looked like a nymph who had risen from the lake and was still glistening from the silver water.
“You look very beautiful, my child,” the Duchess said as they met when she came into the drawing room, where the guests dining in the house were assembled.
Ula watched to see if the Marquis approved and she saw his eyes under his drooping eyelids flickering over her.
He himself was looking positively Regal, wearing the Order of the Garter and decorations on his evening coat, which had been awarded not only for his position at Court but had also been won for gallantry in battle.
The diamond garter around his leg and his exquisitely tied cravat would have made him outstanding even apart from his handsome looks, dark hair and broad shoulders.
“You look magnificent!” Ula exclaimed impulsively.
“You should be waiting to receive my compliments,” the Marquis drawled with a bored expression on his face. “That is the way a young lady of fashion and, of course, an ‘Incomparable’ would behave.”
For a moment Ula, thinking he was serious, looked upset and the colour rose in her cheeks.
Then she realised that he was teasing her and countered,
“Lady of fashion or not, I am speaking the truth and I am sure that most of our guests, and especially the ladies like myself, would far rather look at you than at me!”
The Marquis laughed as if he could not help it.
Then he said,
“Tonight it is you we are concerned with. You have to shine and make certain that everybody is aware of you.”
“Now you are frightening me,” Ula said. “Suppose I fail you – and you are angry.”
“If I am, I can always drown you in the fountain!”
She laughed again.
“That would be a delightful death and certainly a very original one!”
“You are not to talk of death,” the Duchess said sharply. “It is unlucky. Tonight we are all very much alive and remember, Ula, to enjoy your compliments and not be embarrassed by them.”
“I shall not be embarrassed,” Ula replied, “just suspicious that they are not sincere.”
“They will be,” the Duchess added firmly. “You can be sure of that!”
*
Ula certainly did receive a great number of compliments as soon as the guests began to arrive.
She was aware, too, that they looked at her with curiosity.
They also found it exceedingly surprising that the Marquis should have broken his rule of the past of never giving a ball at his own house.
It was always thought, she had discovered, that it was something he would never do because he disliked people trampling about on his carpets and intruding into what he thought of as a private part of his life.
By the time dinner was ended and the ball had started, she found it impossible to think about anything except how thrilling it was to be part of it all.
As she was receiving by the side of the Marquis and the Duchess, it was quite obvious to everybody that the ball was being given for her and she would undoubtedly be the talk of the gentlemen who came from the Clubs in St. James’s.
It was when about half the guests invited after dinner had arrived, that standing beside the Duchess and the Marquis, Ula was aware of who was coming up the stairs directly behind those who were just being presented.
There was no mistaking her uncle’s rather pugnacious face and the scowl between his eyes which she knew meant that he was very annoyed.
Nor could she miss the expression of anger in her aunt’s face and when she looked at Sarah she realised how furious she was.
The Duchess greeted them first.
“How delightful to see you both,” she said in her soft voice, holding out her hand first to the Countess and then to the Earl.
“It is a long time since we have had the pleasure,” he said somewhat grudgingly.
“We must talk about the old days later on,” the Duchess said graciously.
The Earl passed the Marquis, while the Countess lingered behind to talk to the Duchess.
“Nice to see you, Chessington-Crewe!” the Marquis said genially.
“I missed you the other day when you called on me,” the Earl replied. “What happened?”
“Oh, something of no consequence,” the Marquis replied in an unconcerned manner. “We must talk about it another time.”
It was then that the Earl moved to face Ula.
One moment he looked hard at her and he looked so furious that she instinctively took a step back as if she was afraid that he was going to strike her.
Then, without saying a word, he walked on.
The Countess reached the Marquis a moment later and then faced Ula.
She almost gasped as she took in Ula’s appearance, the expensive and unusual gown she was wearing and the elegance of the way her hair was dressed. And her eyes did not miss the necklace of real pearls the Duchess had lent her.
She looked her up and down as though she was a creature that she found singularly unpleasant and then, as her husband sat down, she walked on without speaking.
Lady Sarah halted in front of the Marquis.
“I have missed you,” she said in a low voice.
Her face turned up to his was so beautiful that Ula could not imagine how any man could resist such loveliness.
“I am delighted that you were able to come tonight,” the Marquis said in a non-committal voice.
He would have turned to the next guest had not Lady Sarah held on to his hand.
“When shall I see you?” she asked.
“Later this evening, I hope,” he replied.
It was not the answer she wanted, but he firmly removed his hand from hers to hold it out to the next guest who had already greeted the Duchess.
There was nothing Lady Sarah
could do but move on another step and this brought her in front of Ula.
The expression on her face changed completely and she was no longer beautiful, but almost ugly in her fury.
“I will kill you for this!” she hissed in a voice that only Ula could hear.
Then she walked on.
chapter four
The band was soft and melodious, the ballroom looked entrancing with its pink candles.
As Ula was besieged by would-be partners asking to be introduced to her, she thought everything was exactly as she had dreamt it would be, only even more marvellous.
She was, however, although she tried to suppress it, acutely conscious of her uncle’s and aunt’s and Sarah’s hatred, which seemed to vibrate at her across the room.
She tried not to look in their direction, but when she did so, she was thankful to find that Sarah was surrounded by young men, so that she could not complain on that account.
Nevertheless, she knew, although it was ungrateful to think so, that they spoilt the party for her.
But she enjoyed every dance, only being disappointed that the Marquis did not ask her to dance with him.
However, he had made it very clear before the ball that he never danced if he could possibly help it.
“Sometimes it has to happen in the line of duty,” he had drawled, “but I prefer cards and that is where I shall be if I have the chance.”
Nevertheless, Ula was aware that he was a conscientious and charming host and there was no chance at all of his being relieved of his duties after the Prince Regent had arrived.
When Ula was presented to him, and sank down in a deep curtsey, she wished only that her mother could see her and know that at last she had attained all that she had longed for but had thought impossible.
“I am told you are a new beauty,” the Prince Regent said in his thick voice, but with a smile that was irresistible.
“I am afraid, Sire, that your informants were being over-optimistic,” Ula replied.
The Prince Regent thought this amusing and laughed.
“Are you really so modest?” he asked. “And you must not lie to me, for you look like a small angel who would always tell the truth.”
“That is what I thought myself, Sire,” the Marquis remarked, who was standing beside him.
An Angel Runs Away Page 6