A Lucky Star

by Barbara Cartland

  “I was hoping that your father would be at home today,” he remarked suddenly.

  “Oh, Papa is always occupied with his business or is at his Club. We rarely see him during the day.”

  “I would wish to speak to him in any case. When are you expecting him?”

  “I have just remembered – he is at the races today. Usually we do not see him until very late as he often dines at his Club on race days.”

  Daniel’s face fell and then, after thinking for a few moments, it lit up again.

  “Do you know which Club he frequents?”

  “Why, Boodles,” replied Anthea, knowing full well that he was a member of the Carlton.

  “Really? That is dashed bad luck as I was thrown out of there once. Perhaps I shall come back another day. Do you know if he will be at home tomorrow evening?”

  “It is highly likely, although he is often not at home until after dinner.”

  Daniel nodded his head deep in thought.

  ‘Goodness – is he going to ask for my hand?’ said Anthea to herself. ‘I am very glad that I will not be in the country! I feel sure he would track me down if I were.’

  As they crossed Berkeley Square and into Curzon Street, Anthea attempted to take her arm out of his, but he squeezed his elbow inwards and trapped it.

  ‘I cannot wait for us to reach home,’ she mused, as she gave up trying to discreetly free herself from him.

  Once back outside the front door of Mount Street, Anthea smiled and stretched out her hand.

  “Well, thank you so much for the nice walk,” she smiled, as sweetly as she could. “I hope that you will not think me rude, but I have so much to do this afternoon.”

  Daniel’s face fell and he looked very disappointed.

  “Of course. Don’t forget to write and let me know if you are able to attend the house party in Cheltenham.”

  “I shall do my best,” she answered.

  Daniel then shook her hand before turning around smartly and walking away.

  Anthea heaved a deep sigh of relief as he rounded the corner and felt elated that it would be a very long time before she set eyes on him again.

  Fricker opened the door and she stepped inside.

  “Is my stepmother up and about?” she asked, taking off her gloves and hat.

  “Not yet, miss. She is still asleep.”

  “And my trunk?”

  “In the coach house, miss.”

  “Thank you so very much, Fricker,” she murmured, looking at him earnestly.

  ‘Oh, I shall miss him almost as much as Papa,’ she told herself as she ran lightly up the stairs.

  Looking down she noticed mud on her dress.

  ‘I shall have to ask Maisy to sponge this for me at once. I shall want to take it with me.’

  She took it off and rang the bell. Maisy carried the garment away promising to bring it back in time for dinner.

  Suddenly there was a knock on her door.

  “Come in,” Anthea called in her bright clear voice.

  She was somewhat surprised to see her stepmother glide into the room.

  “I am sorry I was not up when you came home,” she said, seating herself in the armchair by the fireplace.

  “Well then, did Daniel Beauchamp propose? I was expecting that he might from what he said last night.”

  Anthea sighed and tried not to burst out laughing, as her stepmother’s machinations were all so obvious!

  “No, Stepmother, but he did seem quite anxious to see Papa. I told him he might find him at his Club later.”

  “Then, I shall go to my room at once and compose the announcement, for as soon as he has offered for you, I will place a notice in The Times so that everyone important will know of the engagement.

  “I do hope that Mr. Beauchamp is not fond of long engagements – a December wedding would be so suitable. Perhaps, Christmas Eve?”

  “Whatever you wish,” replied Anthea, lowering her face. “Oh, look, here is Maisy with my gown. Did you remove the mud stains?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  “Then, I shall put it on at once. I want Papa to see me in this dress. It is so pretty.”

  Satisfied that her plan was in motion, Lady Preston left the room. The smug expression on her face was enough to make Anthea giggle – for she knew that, in a few short hours, that smile would be wiped away when she had fled.

  ‘Tonight cannot come quick enough,’ she pondered as Maisy helped her into the yellow-silk dress. ‘And the sooner, the better!’

  *

  Dinner was a quiet affair that evening.

  Anthea was far too nervous to eat very much and fortunately her stepmother rather arrogantly attributed it to anxiety about Daniel’s impending proposal.

  “That is a lovely gown you are wearing,” remarked her father, looking up from his soup. “Is it something you bought the other day in Bond Street?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  Looking at her Papa, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her heart. Although he had not been his old self of late, she would really miss him.

  ‘But I must not waiver,’ she determined. ‘My mind is made up and I have to leave. It is even more essential I go now that Daniel Beauchamp has set his cap at me.

  ‘I could never endure an enforced engagement, let alone a marriage to him and that is what will happen if I stay.’

  “Daniel Beauchamp was here for luncheon,” Lady Preston interjected. “He wishes to speak with you.”

  “Ah-ha!” cried Sir Edward. “Is this, by any chance, the prelude to an announcement?”

  He chuckled away to himself and made jokes on the subject with his wife, oblivious to the fact that Anthea was squirming in her chair.

  She looked at the clock and it was nearly nine.

  She quickly finished her pudding and then asked to be excused.

  “I have a slight headache,” she explained.

  “You shouldn’t gobble your food,” commented her stepmother. “If you don’t digest properly, of course, you will get headaches.”

  “Yes, Stepmother,” she said rising from the table.

  As she bid them goodnight, she saw that they were so wrapped up in each other that they were not taking any notice of her.

  Casting one last lingering glance at her father she felt tears pricking her eyes, as she did not know when she might see him again.

  ‘I will write to him before I leave,’ she decided.

  Once upstairs she rang for Maisy and said that she would not be required any more that evening.

  “And have tomorrow off,” she added, as the girl, bobbed a curtsy. “You have worked hard this weekend and I can manage perfectly well without you.”

  Maisy looked delighted as she left the room.

  Anthea then locked the door and set about writing a note to her father.

  ‘I must tell him not to worry. I will say that I am safe with a friend and that we are travelling. I shall not say where or when, otherwise he may attempt to find me.’

  Again she felt a wave of sadness sweep over her as she folded the writing paper and addressed it to him.

  She propped it up on her dressing table where she knew Maisy would find it and then finished putting the last few items she would need into her carpetbag.

  ‘There,’ she muttered to herself, as she snapped the clasp shut. ‘Now I must put on my hat and coat and go downstairs. It is almost time.’

  Taking her book from her bedside table, she slung her coat over her arm with her hat and bag beneath it.

  ‘Then, if one of the servants sees me, I shall say I am going out for a walk to help clear my headache.’

  She pulled the door open slowly, listening for signs of life – all she could hear was the ticking of the hall clock.

  Holding her breath, she edged out onto the landing and then tiptoed towards the backstairs.

  As she slowly descended, she was wondering how she could slip past the kitchen without being seen.

  ‘Surely the servants will be e
ating in the servants’ hall?’ she surmised, as she reached the door that led to a passageway that would take her into the Mews outside.

  She hesitated for a long moment.

  Screwing up her courage, she turned the handle and crept out into the passage.

  She was almost at the back door when suddenly a tall figure loomed in front of her.

  “Miss Preston!”

  It was Fricker.

  Anthea stared at him, speechless with fright.

  “I – I – ”

  “No need to explain, miss,” he whispered. “It is our little secret. I have not seen you.”

  “Thank you very much, Fricker,” breathed Anthea, touching the butler’s cuff in a gesture of gratitude.

  He opened the back door and looked about.

  “There is a carriage waiting in the Mews – ”

  “Yes. Goodbye, Fricker, and thank you again.”

  “Good luck, miss.”

  She did not hesitate. She walked quickly into the Mews and then ran towards Linette’s carriage.

  Linette caught sight of her and waved.

  Then as Anthea approached the open carriage door, Linette leaned forward and whispered,

  “Shall I ask the footmen to load your bags? Where are they?”

  “In the coach house. A large trunk by the door.”

  Linette gestured to the footmen and within minutes they were loading the trunk onto the rear of the carriage.

  “Oooh, I am so terribly excited!” squealed Linette, throwing a cashmere blanket over Anthea’s knees.

  “I hope that you brought a coat otherwise you will be freezing. That’s a lovely dress you are wearing, but it’s not sufficiently warm to keep out the chill.”

  Anthea smiled.

  “I have my coat here, but did not have time to put it on. I got caught sneaking out by our butler!”

  “Will he – ?”

  “No, he is a friend and will not say a thing. I can trust him with my life.”

  “Ready, my Lady?”

  One of the footmen put his head into the travelling compartment.

  “Yes, make all haste, Haskins. Papa is waiting for us at the Nelson Hotel. You know the way there?”

  “Yes, my Lady, we have the Master’s fastest horses and we shall be in Portsmouth before dawn.”

  “Good, and well done Haskins!” exclaimed Linette, squeezing Anthea’s hand. “Oh, I am so excited! I cannot wait for you to meet Papa – he is already in Portsmouth.”

  “When does our ship sail?”

  “On the morning tide. Papa is very particular about sailing promptly.”

  As the carriage moved off down the Mews, Anthea could not resist taking one last look at the house she had lived in all her life.

  ‘When will I set foot inside again?’ she wondered. ‘Oh, what have I done?’

  In spite of all her excitement and knowing that what she was doing was the only way she would find a life of her own, Anthea could not help crying.

  Two large tears were trickling down her cheeks as she pressed her face up against the window as the carriage picked up speed.

  “Goodbye, Papa!” she whispered. “I will always love you.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Anthea did her level best to avoid Linette seeing her cry – she did not want her to feel guilty or awkward.

  ‘Besides, she is just a girl and I am supposed to be looking after her – she is not here to be my comforter!’

  The carriage had a very luxurious interior, the seats were well sprung and covered in cashmere blankets while the backs were leather and buttoned.

  Although her father’s best carriage was considered expensive, the Earl’s put his into the shade.

  Anthea snuggled up beneath the blankets and tried to close her eyes.

  ‘Why is it I feel as if my heart is being torn from my chest?’ she wondered. ‘Can leaving Papa really be such a wrench after how little concern he has shown me of late? I find it hard to forgive him for keeping me in the dark over his marriage and for not honouring Mama’s memory with a better choice of a new wife.’

  Although she would not care to admit it, Anthea’s view of love had been considerably tainted by her dreadful experience with Jolyon Burnside.

  Since he had jilted her, she had not even so much as looked at a young man in a romantic way.

  ‘My heart is closed to that side of life,’ she mused. ‘Perhaps becoming a chaperone will help ease the pain of my loneliness. Linette is a lively girl and if this trip goes well, maybe she will ask me to accompany her on another. I can think of less pleasant occupations in life – and, until Papa comes to his senses, I cannot return to Mount Street.’

  Eventually her fatigue won and she fell asleep.

  She slumbered soundly, only being shaken awake when the carriage clattered over a wooden bridge.

  She opened her eyes with a jolt and at once felt ill. Her mouth was dry and the rocking motion of the carriage made her nauseous.

  Outside the sky was beginning to lighten and a few seagulls scudded overhead.

  “Where are we?” yawned Linette loudly. “Are we in Portsmouth yet?”

  “I do believe we are almost there.”

  “How exciting! Wait until you see Papa’s ship – it’s modern and the height of luxury. If someone blindfolded you and took you on board without telling you where you were, you would think you were in the best hotel!”

  “It sounds wonderful,” agreed Anthea.

  “And the crew onboard are so handsome! Captain MacFarlane always looks after me beautifully and they all make a big fuss of me. They will be delighted to meet you and you will enjoy the trip a great deal.”

  Anthea smiled as Linette bubbled over with girlish enthusiasm.

  She thought her rather young for her age. After all when she herself had been twenty, she was already engaged to Jolyon Burnside and contemplating marriage.

  She could no sooner imagine Linette married than she could see her flying to the moon. For despite the fact that her father was an Earl with an international business, Linette was quite the innocent.

  “Look! I see a ship’s mast!” cried Linette, pointing out of the window.

  Anthea squinted and could just make out something poking above the buildings in front of them.

  A little later after moving slowly through crowded streets, the carriage pulled up at the quayside in front of a gleaming steamship.

  Anthea could see the words ‘The Sea Sprite’ on the prow.

  “There it is! Look!”

  Linette was obviously immensely proud of the ship and could not wait to show it off to her.

  “I do hope Papa is already on board. I have hardly seen him these past few weeks.”

  She had run down the steps of the carriage before Anthea could reply.

  She smiled to herself and followed her out onto the quayside. The footmen were busy unloading their luggage.

  She noticed that Linette had a great many trunks and cases while she had just one.

  As she watched the activity on the quayside, Linette was already running up the gangway.

  ‘She is so thrilled to be seeing her father,’ thought Anthea wistfully. ‘How I miss mine already.’

  Slowly she walked over towards the ship and up to the gangway.

  The salty air whipped at her face and breathing it in made her feel a great deal more cheerful.

  “Come and meet our Captain MacFarlane,” called out Linette, waving at her from the deck.

  Next to her stood a tall handsome man in uniform who saluted as Anthea drew level with him.

  “Captain, this is my new friend and my chaperone – Miss Anthea Preston.”

  “Welcome, Miss Preston,” he smiled. “I hope that you will enjoy the voyage. Now, would you mind stepping to one side as my men are bringing the luggage on board?”

  “Oh, goodness. Did I really pack as much as that?” cried out Linette looking horrified, “and you only have the one trunk!”

  “I confess,
I am a little worried that I will not have enough clothes for the journey,” answered Anthea, as she watched the two sailors struggling with an enormous trunk.

  “Oh, nonsense. If you run out of gowns, you can wear some of mine. We are about the same size, I would guess. Now, come along – the Captain says Papa is not on board yet, but I want you to come and see the Saloon.”

  She took Anthea’s hand and led her along the deck to a pair of doors.

  “In here!” she exploded.

  As she promised the Saloon was most luxurious.

  There were sofas, bookcases full of bound volumes, a piano and a chaise longue smothered with cushions. On the floor were Turkish rugs and fine paintings on the walls.

  “It looks so wonderful,” remarked Anthea, looking around her. “Did your father choose the art?”

  “Oh, yes. Papa loves art, but he says that he never has sufficient time to indulge himself. When we arrive in Naples, I want to surprise him and find him something new for this room. Will you help me?”

  “Of course, I should like that very much. I hear that there are plenty of artists living in the area and we might happen across the next Botticelli or Leonardo!”

  “Wouldn’t that just be divine? Now where is Papa? He is very naughty for not being here when we arrived.”

  Linette stamped her foot impatiently and pouted.

  Just then the Captain came into the Saloon with a member of his crew dressed in a white jacket.

  “Ladies, this is Jackson. He is to be your Steward for the voyage and he will see to your every comfort. You must not be afraid to ask him for whatever you desire.”

  “Breakfast now would be just perfect,” suggested Linette, throwing herself down on the chaise.

  “I shall see what chef can make for you, my Lady.”

  Half an hour later, Jackson appeared with a buffet trolley of rolls, fruit and a huge tureen full of kedgeree.

  “Thank you so very much,” smiled Linette, as she helped herself to a peach. “Jackson, when do we sail?”

  “Quite soon,” he answered.

  Just as he spoke there was a commotion on deck.

  “Papa!” exclaimed Linette, jumping up.

  Before she reached the door, a tall handsome man with dark hair and startling amber eyes strode in.