Search For a Wife

by Barbara Cartland

  When he went to his room he found that everything had been laid ready for him exactly as if he was at home.

  His brush and comb had been put on the dressing table and beside them was a small pistol which he realised his valet had put in the very bottom of one of the bags.

  “Do you really think I shall need it?” he had asked when he was told it had been packed.

  “You’ll never know, my Lord, what you’ll find in them outlandish places – you be a-going without me,” his Valet had replied diffidently.

  “That is true enough, Croft, but I shall be surprised if I use it, then as you say, it might come in useful.”

  “As you’re going alone, you’ll need something to protect your Lordship,” his valet had added gloomily.

  The Marquis was thinking now that maybe the man was right and that he would have been a fool if he had gone off alone into the country without any protection.

  He looked to see if the bullets slipped in easily and that part of the pistol did not require oiling.

  Suddenly his door was flung open.

  And Vita burst in.

  She was wearing a pretty light green negligee over her nightdress.

  “They are here!” she cried. “I looked out of the window and I can see them! They are creeping round the stable. If they don’t find your horse they may take mine!”

  “Show me just how you managed to see them,” the Marquis asked her quickly.

  Without commenting or arguing Vita started to run back along the corridor and the Marquis followed her.

  At the far end near what he thought was the Master suite there was an open door and steps and he guessed it would lead up to the roof and he surmised that Vita must have slipped up the steps when she was ready to go to bed.

  As he reached the roof he saw they had a clear view of the surroundings of the house including the greenhouses and the stables at the back of it.

  Vita was now standing straight up against one of the high Elizabethan chimney stacks, which would prevent anyone noticing that there were two people on the roof.

  As he joined her, she slipped her hand into his and whispered,

  “Look over there! You can see that man clearly at the back of the stable.”

  She was right.

  A man was edging nearer and nearer to the stable window, not exactly crawling but doubled up – it was as if by doing so he thought no one would see him.

  Then as the Marquis watched he saw that there was another man just behind him while a third was coming in at a different angle.

  They had in fact already reached the wall of the stable where it looked out on an open field and the Marquis knew if the men managed to break in they would find some way of taking the horses out.

  It would be without anyone being aware of it and they would merely find empty stalls in the morning.

  To his relief Firefly was not there, but Vita’s horse was and several others he had noticed and they must be the thoroughbreds belonging to her father.

  The two men had by now reached the stable and then as the third joined them, they started to prise open the stable window.

  Even as they did so the Marquis lifted his pistol and he aimed it not at the men, but directly over their heads.

  He pulled the trigger and the bullet flew out making a tremendous noise as it did so.

  The Marquis fired three times.

  Then the men were running back over the fields in a panic-stricken manner towards the road.

  Only when they had disappeared out of sight, Vita, who was still holding on to the Marquis’s free hand, said in little more than a whisper,

  “That was wonderful! Wonderful of you!”

  “It certainly scared them, but I deliberately did not hit them as I thought there would be an immediate Police enquiry. I want to make sure they are talking to the right people before they start a full investigation.”

  He was also thinking that if there was a wounded or dead man, he would then have to reveal who he was and it would be most embarrassing to have to explain why he was travelling in disguise.

  Vita gave a deep sigh.

  “How could you have had that pistol ready,” she asked, “at exactly the right moment?”

  “You must thank the person who packed my bag and Firefly for carrying it for me.”

  He very nearly uttered the word ‘my valet’, but just managed to prevent himself at the last moment.

  “I don’t think they will come back now,” Vita said looking over the fields.

  “I am quite sure they will not, tonight at any rate. So let’s go back, Vita.”

  Immediately Vita turned towards the stairs that had brought them up to the top of the house and the Marquis followed her down and when they reached the corridor it was to find the night footman trembling.

  “What’s a-happening, miss?” he asked Vita.

  “It’s all right, James. There were some strange men at the stables, but Mr. Milton has frightened them away.”

  “I’m not surprised, miss. A bit of fire always puts the wind up ’em!”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “That is true enough!”

  Vita was just opening the door to the Master suite.

  “I must see if Grandpapa was woken by the noise.”

  She left the door wide open as she went in and the Marquis thought he should wait until she returned just in case she needed any further help.

  She had mentioned that her grandfather had two nurses with him and he supposed one was with him now.

  James was now going back down the front stairs to his comfortable padded chair.

  The Marquis then slipped the pistol into the pocket of his evening coat, thinking what a good thing he had it with him and felt sure the thieves would not return tonight.

  He then saw Vita come out of the bedroom door of the Master suite and he was just about to say goodnight to her when he realised that she was looking very pale.

  Something must be wrong.

  “What is it?” he asked her. “What is the matter?”

  “I-I think” she mumbled, “Grandpapa – is dead.”

  “Dead!” the Marquis exclaimed and he walked past her into the Master suite.

  There was a lamp burning by the bedside that was obviously kept alight all night.

  In the huge four-poster bed with its traditional red velvet curtains there was Vita’s grandfather – Sir Edward Shetland.

  He had been clearly, when young, a good looking man and even in old age he still had his classical features.

  He was lying on his back and his eyes were closed, but he was so still and that told the Marquis that Vita was right.

  Very gently he stretched out his hand and touched Sir Edward’s forehead and found it was cold.

  Vita had not followed him into the room and when he went outside into the corridor he saw she had aroused one of the nurses from the next room.

  It was very typical, the Marquis thought, that while James downstairs in the hall had heard the shots, the nurse had obviously only just woken up.

  She hurried past him into the room and the Marquis saw her touch Sir Edward’s forehead and his hand, as he had done.

  Then she pulled the bedsheet over his face and he realised that Vita’s grandfather really was dead.

  The Marquis then went out to the landing and Vita merely looked up at him without speaking.

  “You were indeed correct,” he told her as gently as he could, “your grandfather has passed away. I don’t think the shots from the pistol would have worried him, because he looks so peaceful and not in the least agitated.”

  “I – thought that too,” murmured Vita.

  “Would you like to go downstairs or back to your bedroom?” the Marquis asked her.

  She drew in her breath and replied hesitantly,

  “I don’t want – to be alone – for the moment.”

  “Of course not. We will go downstairs and I will see if I can find you something to drink.”

  “I
would – just like to talk to you – for a little.”

  “Of course and that is why I waited here for you,”

  They went downstairs side by side and he took her into the room where they had been sitting after dinner.

  “I know this may seem strange,” said the Marquis, “but I see there is a bottle of champagne here. I am going to give us both a drink because I think we really need it.”

  Vita did not reply immediately and a moment or so later she muttered,

  “I don’t think Grandpapa minded dying. He had been in pain for some time and he now looks so at peace.”

  “I thought the same,” the Marquis agreed.

  He was standing by the grog-tray in the corner of the room and opened the bottle of champagne. He poured half a glass for Vita and half a glass for himself and then carried them back to where she was still sitting on the sofa.

  She took a glass from him and then she stated,

  “I don’t want to be a nuisance to you in any way, Mr. Milton, but I am not certain what I should do now.”

  “Just leave everything to me,” he replied. “I have dealt with both my father’s funeral and quite a number of my relations. Just stay in bed. Tell yourself you have to recover from the shock and I promise you everything shall be done exactly as it ought to be.”

  “You are so kind. I am so very very lucky that I was brave enough to follow you into that wood.”

  “Why should you have been reticent?”

  “I thought perhaps you would just laugh at me and think I was being tiresome and making a mountain out of a molehill.”

  “It certainly was not that! But what you will have to do tomorrow is write down the names and addresses of your relations. I have, of course, heard of your father, but you must have a great number of others.”

  He was thinking of how many he had himself and he was therefore surprised when Vita told him,

  “There are not really that many. Papa was an only child and although Grandpapa had three sisters, only one of them is alive.”

  “The one in Cornwall?”

  “Yes, that’s right. She was the youngest and that is why her son who broke his leg is, I think, only seventeen.”

  “Seeing your grandfather was a Squire and you are a most respected family, the people who live near here will all expect to come to his funeral.”

  Vita gave a sigh.

  “You must tell me what I must do and what I must say. It may seem rather strange, but I have only been to one funeral and that was Mama’s which was abroad.”

  “In which country?” the Marquis enquired.

  “Actually it was in Italy where she picked up some horrible germ that came from Africa and the doctors could find no cure for it. Papa was frantic and I felt I had to look after him.

  “But it was a very small funeral,” Vita added, “as Papa felt there was no point in bringing her home as the British Embassy had suggested.”

  The Marquis thought it was very sensible. He had always believed that it was a ridiculous waste of time and money when people carted dead bodies about, just because they wanted to be buried in some particular spot.

  Equally he recognised that this had been a terrible shock for Vita.

  There was no one but him to look after her.

  ‘I really do find odd things to do,’ he thought to himself and he felt compelled to do everything he could think of to guide the beautiful Vita over the shock of her grandfather’s death.

  They talked on a variety of subjects.

  Then the Marquis took Vita upstairs and told her she must try and go to sleep.

  “Don’t think about what has happened or what is going to happen,” he advised her. “Think about something pleasant – a book you have read, a place you have enjoyed or a person you are fond of.”

  She gave a rather tearful laugh.

  “You do say such unexpected things,” she smiled. “I cannot imagine anyone else telling me to do that.”

  “I have now told you what to do. Thus go to bed while I pull your curtains which I see you had drawn back before you went upstairs and onto the roof.”

  “I was just looking out to check that everything was safe. Then I remembered I could go up onto the roof and see far better – and it was a good thing I did.”

  “A very good thing. Now you have to go to sleep. Otherwise you know you will feel ghastly in the morning. Whatever else happens we are going to ride tomorrow.”

  “It is only due to you that our horses are still here.”

  The Marquis pulled the curtains over the windows and when he turned back he saw that Vita was in bed.

  She was looking so glorious with all her fair hair cascading over her shoulders almost to her waist.

  He stood by the bedstead looking down at her.

  “Now you must close your eyes, Vita, and then start thinking about that delightful person you like, even if he is Apollo – and you are not to think of anyone else.”

  Vita gave a little laugh.

  “You are making it into a game,” she asserted. “So I will think about Apollo and you.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Marquis made himself extremely busy.

  He thought with amusement that he had never been so active before in his life.

  First of all he visited the Vicar and agreed with him that, as it was going to be impossible for many relations to attend the funeral, the sooner they held it the better.

  “I always think,” the Vicar observed sensibly, “that if people are dead it is a mistake to have them in the house for very long.”

  “I do agree with you, Vicar,” replied the Marquis. “Therefore I would be extremely grateful if you could bury Sir Edward Shetland as soon as possible.”

  The funeral would take place in two days time.

  “If it is unlikely,” the Vicar added, “that many of Sir Edward’s relatives will be here, the locals will want to come for certain.”

  The Marquis was sure of that because he learnt that Sir Edward had been an excellent neighbour, just as he was good to the workers on his estate.

  They were all upset by his death and the Marquis realised that the whole village would be in attendance on the day.

  Fortunately the Church was only a short way from the house and the churchyard was actually on Sir Edward’s land and the family tomb bordered on the drive, which the Marquis thought was a relief. It meant there was no need to provide carriages for the household and Vita.

  After seeing the Vicar he had gone at once to the Lord Lieutenant. He was an elderly man who had been a friend of Sir Edward for many years and was upset by the news of his death.

  “Of course I will attend the funeral,” he said, “and I am sure you can expect many people from the County.”

  “I would be grateful if you would give me a list of those who should be invited,” the Marquis asked him, “as I obviously do not know them myself.”

  He had agreed with Vita that it would be a mistake to pretend he was not staying in the house or that they had only known each other for a day and a half.

  “What we must say is that I am an old friend of your father’s,” the Marquis said, “and as I was travelling in this direction I called to see him – and that will also be an explanation for the Chief Constable of the County when I tell him about the horse thieves.”

  “It will be a good time to do it. I am sure everyone on the estate will go to the funeral, so the horses must be locked in very securely.”

  “I hardly think that they will come again after last night,” the Marquis mused. “I frightened them away and I cannot believe they will dare to come near you again.”

  “I hope not,” Vita sighed in a rather small voice.

  He sensed that she was still frightened and it would be wrong to talk about it as it might make her feel worse, and so he suggested,

  “We must be sure that there are plenty of flowers at your grandfather’s funeral.”

  They went together to see the Head Gardener and he promise
d that the little Church would be filled with the colour and fragrence of endless blooms.

  Instinctively they went from the garden towards the stables and the Marquis met Tom Brown about whom he had heard so much.

  As he had no wife or children the Marquis could understand why he had given his whole heart to his horse.

  Vita was patting all the horses and giving special attention to her favourite, Silver Cloud.

  The Marquis inspected the stables and found they were strongly built and after scaring away the thieves, he felt it would be safe to put Firefly in with the other horses.

  Then he told himself he was safe in the house and it would be a mistake to move him, but he appreciated that the ventilation was far better in the stables than in the old pantry. He was also suspicious that the pantry floor, which was made of bricks, was damp.

  When they went outside the stables, Vita said,

  “The grooms have told me they all want to come to the funeral. I think that the horses should be safe here at that time of day.”

  “I am sure they will be, Vita,” agreed the Marquis. “I would suggest that we ride them early in the morning so that they have plenty of exercise and then put Firefly next to Silver Cloud.”

  Vita thought that this was a good idea and then the Marquis went to check that all the letters he had written to the locals had been delivered. The grooms had been riding from house to house with them and a number of people had sent back a letter to Vita with their condolences.

  “I do wish we could get in touch with Papa,” Vita sighed later in the day.

  “I have already sent a letter to the British Embassy and one to the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs,” the Marquis told her.

  “That was clever of you, Mr. Milton. I should have forgotten them.”

  “I have just thought as your father now inherits the Baronetcy it would be polite to notify the House of Lords.”

  He remembered that when his own father died they had said a special prayer for him in the House of Lords and stood silent for two minutes.

  He had been careful not to sign his real name on any of the letters – he had merely inferred that he was a secretary working on behalf of the family.

  *

  It was on the afternoon before the funeral that the Marquis rode over to meet the Chief Constable and found, as he had expected, a rather bossy middle-aged man who was very conscious of his own importance.