Love Casts Out Fear

by Barbara Cartland

“I wonder if I can explain this to you,” Lord Kiniston was saying in a quiet voice that made him seem far less awe-inspiring than he usually was.

  “Explain – what?” Alecia enquired.

  “The difference between the women in a man’s life,” Lord Kiniston replied.

  Because, despite what she was feeling, this sounded rather interesting, Alecia looked at him for a brief second and then away again as he went on,

  “The first woman a man loves is, of course, his mother and, if she is the right sort of mother, she inspires in him a desire to find as his wife somebody like her, who will not only be kind, gentle and understanding but also a guide and an inspiration, bringing out all that is best in him.”

  Because what he said sounded like a description of her own mother, Alecia looked at him again.

  Although she did not speak, he knew that she was listening intently.

  “Then when he gets older,” Lord Kiniston went on, “there are women who come into a man’s life whom he admires for their beauty and finds them extremely pleasurable. But they are only a passing episode and he has no intention of living with them on a permanent basis.”

  Alecia turned her head a little away from him and, because he felt that she was shocked by what he was saying, he continued very gently,

  “These women are like flowers, beautiful as they come into bloom, but when they die, one throws them away because they are no longer attractive.”

  “They – may not want to be – thrown away,” Alecia murmured.

  “That is, of course, inevitable in some cases,” Lord Kiniston replied. “At the same time, when a woman is older and perhaps a widow, there is no reason why she should not enjoy an interlude in her life which as a rule she had no desire to perpetuate any more than the man does with whom she has shared a few weeks or perhaps a few months.”

  “But – surely – it is wrong?”

  “Not really,” Lord Kiniston replied. “Life is short and if people can find happiness, even if only for a short time, then they should be grateful. Men and women were created to be attracted to one another, but they also have other interests and other objectives besides making love.”

  There was silence and then Alecia said,

  “I-I am trying to – understand.”

  “There is no reason for you to do that,” Lord Kiniston said, “and I have not quite finished.”

  She looked up at him again enquiringly and he said,

  “Besides his mother and the women who give him pleasure, a man is always looking for the woman he wants as his wife and the mother of his children. When he is young and idealistic, he is quite sure that he will find her and although often he is disappointed, he still goes on looking.”

  “And when he – finds her?” Alecia asked.

  “Then they are married and, as in all the Fairytales, live happily ever after!”

  Now there was a touch of cynicism in Lord Kiniston’s voice, but Alecia did not notice it.

  Instead, she said,

  “I think I understand – but perhaps because she loves you – you would be happy if you – married Lady Lillian.”

  “Do you really think,” Lord Kiniston asked, “that she would be the right sort of mother for the son I hope one day will succeed me?”

  As he spoke, Alecia saw a quick picture of Lady Lillian’s face as she had just seen it contorted with fury and she also saw her flirting with the Duc de Brière, as she had at luncheon.

  Behaving like that she could not imagine her holding a baby in her arms or giving it the love that Lord Kiniston had had from his mother and she had had from hers.

  “I think I do – understand,” she said after a moment, “and thank you for – explaining it to me.”

  “What I want,” Lord Kiniston said, “is for you not to be upset by Lady Lillian and I hope that she will leave here if not tomorrow then the day after.”

  “I expect she would like to stay for the dinner you are giving for the Duke of Wellington.”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “I happened to hear the Major Domo telling the Duc de St. Brière that he was expected.”

  For a moment Lord Kiniston frowned as if he resented the idea of his gossiping.

  Then he said,

  “Servants will talk and there is nothing one can do to stop them. But now, Charis, I think you should come to have a cup of very English afternoon tea.”

  Alecia smiled.

  “I must admit if I had to go without it, I should miss it.”

  “Very well,” Lord Kiniston said. “We will go to join the others, where I am quite certain that they will be gossiping around the teapot!”

  The way he spoke made Alecia laugh.

  Then, as they both rose and walked towards the door, she thought it was a very strange conversation to have with a man who had just announced his engagement to her without asking her permission and who had until this moment seemed very frightening.

  ‘He can be nice when he wants to be,’ she told herself as they walked down the passage side by side.

  Then, as he opened the door of the salon, she instinctively moved a little nearer to him, as if she was in need of protection.

  Lord Kiniston appeared to understand.

  “It’s all right,” he said quietly. “I will look after you, and I promise you that there is nothing to be frightened about! These are only people who are envious because they are not as beautiful as you or as rich as me!”

  He was speaking with a mocking note in his voice and, as he opened the salon door, Alecia gave a little laugh.

  Chapter Six

  There was a party of twelve at luncheon and the Duc was one of the guests.

  Once again he paid tremendous court to Lady Lillian, who seemed to Alecia to have recovered somewhat from her rage.

  Although she spoke in a soft, sweet, rather hurt voice to Lord Kiniston, she once again deliberately flirted with the Duc, hoping, Alecia was sure, to make him jealous.

  Alecia was thankful that she was seated next to Willy, who regaled her with stories of how difficult the French were being over the Army of Occupation.

  He was convinced that only the Duke of Wellington’s tact had managed to keep everything under control, with no one becoming too angry with anyone else. And it was obvious that he was an ardent admirer of the Duke.

  When luncheon was over, everybody dispersed.

  Mrs. Belton and two other English ladies said that they were going shopping and invited Alecia to go along with them.

  Alecia refused. She was very conscious that all the money she had with her, and it was not very much, would be needed if she had to find her own way home to England in disgrace.

  Charis had given her fifteen pounds for the journey, thinking that it would be enough to tip the servants and for any small things she wanted.

  Her ticket had been provided for her by Lord Kiniston and the Courier, Mr. Hunt, had held it in his possession for safekeeping.

  She was quite certain that there was no return ticket with it and she was calculating how much she would need for a carriage and horses to take her to Calais, her ticket on the packet across the Channel and for the carriages on the other side.

  It was difficult to know exactly what would be required and she thought it would be a mistake to ask in case anyone was suspicious that she was thinking of returning to England.

  Therefore she knew that the last thing she must do was to dissipate her money on trivialities.

  Mrs. Belton had already enthused over how attractive the materials and ribbons were in France, but she told herself that she had to be strong-minded and anyway she had the beautiful clothes that Charis had given her.

  When the other women had gone upstairs to put on their bonnets and the men had disappeared in the direction of the Barracks, Alecia went into the salon with a book she was in the middle of reading.

  She had noticed that outside one of the long French windows of the salon there was a delightful shaded place among the flow
ers where one could sit to read.

  It was out of the sun and with the shrubs in blossom scenting the air she thought it very romantic.

  When she found that there was nothing to sit on, she went back into the salon and, picking up one of the cushions from a chair, brought it out and set it down just outside the open windows so that her back was against the wall of the château.

  She was very comfortable and it was the way she often sat reading at home.

  Now she liked looking out over the formal gardens, which she knew had been designed in imitation of the exquisite gardens of Vaux le Vicomte, which lay outside Paris.

  She longed above anything else to see the City she had read so much about and whose history had always enthralled her.

  She found herself remembering how at luncheon someone had said to the Duc de St. Brière that it was extraordinary how the French had decided to celebrate the fall of the Bastille every fourteenth of July.

  “Surely,” Lady Lillian had said, “the one thing you and most sensible Frenchmen want to forget is the Revolution!”

  “It is certainly something I don’t wish to recall,” the Duc agreed. “At the same time the French love celebrations and every country has special days when they remember outstanding episodes in their history.”

  “That is true enough!” Louisa Caton, who was present with her fiancé, Colonel Felton-Hervey, exclaimed. “We celebrate the Fourth of July, when we won our Independence from the English!”

  “I feel we should have had a day of mourning to remember how we lost America,” Colonel Felton-Hervey said and then added gallantly, “but I am doing my best to get one little bit of it back!”

  Louisa pouted at him prettily and Lord Kiniston remarked,

  “We have St. George’s Day to celebrate the greatness of England and perhaps in the future we will dedicate a day to the Battle of Waterloo.”

  There was a little murmur of appreciation at this from the English present, but Alecia thought that the Duc took no part in it.

  Because she considered it was a little tactless to draw attention to the way his country had been defeated, even though it was under the generalship of Napoleon Bonaparte, she said,

  “We must not forget that we celebrate Guy Fawkes Day on the fifth of November, when they unmasked the dastardly plot and saved Parliament.”

  “That is true,” Lord Kiniston agreed, “but I think that Guy Fawkes is remembered because he chose such an original way of silencing Parliament, which talked too much, then and now!”

  Everybody laughed at this and the conversation became political.

  There was an argument as to who was the most vociferous politician at Westminster and whether Lord Kiniston, when he returned home, would be continually speaking in the House of Lords.

  ‘I am sure that he would make very good speeches,’ Alecia thought.

  She knew that, although he was intimidating, she could not help admiring the sharpness of his brain and he always seemed to have a new angle on every argument and his opinions seemed to her shrewder and more convincing than anyone else.

  ‘I can understand why he has been such a success in his career,’ she decided and could not stop her thoughts from returning to herself and wondering whether, when Lord Kiniston knew the truth about her, he would be very very angry.

  She was deep in her thoughts when she heard voices through the open window above her head and realised that it was the Duc speaking.

  “I wanted to say goodbye to you alone, before I left,” he was saying.

  “Are you leaving?”

  “Only for a few days,” the Duc replied consolingly, “but I have to go to Paris to see my mother, who is not well.”

  “I am sorry, but I shall miss you.”

  “Is that true, really true? There is no need for me to say how much I shall miss your beauty and the sweetness of your voice.”

  “I shall be counting the days until you return,” Lady Lillian said very softly.

  “And you know I shall do the same,” he replied, “but I have a favour to ask of you before I go.”

  “What is it?”

  “Tonight at the dinner party which, alas, I cannot attend, I have arranged for there to be a special present for the three people I admire most.”

  “It sounds exciting!” Lady Lillian exclaimed.

  “I hope you will think so,” the Duc said, “and I want you to promise me that, although I shall not be here to see it happen, you will take the Duke of Wellington and Lord Kiniston into the conservatory at exactly a quarter before ten.”

  “And what is going to happen when we get there?”

  “It will be something special to commemorate the Duke’s brilliant leadership at Waterloo and similarly for Lord Kiniston. And for you, my divine lady, something that will make you remember me.”

  “How could I ever forget you?” Lady Lillian asked. “But I am very curious. Do tell me what it is.”

  “No, no, that would spoil everything,” the Duc protested. “It all has to be a surprise. But I will give you a hint and say that your gift sparkles.”

  Lady Lillian gave a cry of delight.

  “Oh, Flavian, do you mean. Are you really giving me that necklace I admired?”

  “That you will have to find out for yourself,” the Duc said mysteriously, “but I would not wish you to be disappointed. And don’t forget your promise.”

  “Is it likely that I should do anything so stupid?” Lady Lillian asked. “I will have the Duke and Drogo in the conservatory at a quarter to ten and the rest of the party must come too.”

  “Why not? They will be very welcome,” the Duc replied.

  “Must you really go? Can you not wait until tomorrow?”

  “My mother is expecting me. Meantime, I beg of you, as the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, to take care of yourself until I return and not to forget me.”

  “How could you imagine for one moment that I would do so?” Lady Lillian asked.

  There was a little silence and Alecia thought, incredible though it seemed, that the Duc was kissing Lady Lillian.

  Then he said, his voice as deep as velvet,

  “You intoxicate me with your beauty and I shall be thinking of you all the way to Paris.”

  “And I of you,” Lady Lillian replied.

  The Duc must have looked at the clock for he said,

  “I must go! My horses are waiting.”

  “I will come to see you off.”

  There was a movement that told Alecia that they were walking towards the door.

  Then, as she heard it shut behind them, she heaved a sigh as if she released her breath and knew that she had been holding it without being aware of it.

  How, she asked herself, after all Lady Lillian’s protests of affection for Lord Kiniston, could she behave in such an outrageous manner with the Duc de St. Brière?

  What was more, she was actually accepting what Alecia was sure was a very expensive present from him.

  She had been brought up to believe that the only things a woman could accept from a man, unless she was his wife, or they were engaged to be married, were trivial presents like a fan, a pair of gloves or a bottle of scent.

  A necklace that sparkled could be made only of diamonds and she was appalled that Lady Lillian should accept anything so valuable from a man, who, even if he was an aristocrat, was, owing to his nationality, an enemy of Great Britain.

  It was all very unpleasant, she thought, and it certainly seemed strange that the Duc wished to give the Duke of Wellington and Lord Kiniston presents as well.

  She supposed that they would be commemorative plaques or something of that sort.

  Equally it seemed strange that he should wish to do so, even though Lord Kiniston had said that he had been useful to the English when he returned to his own country in disguise before the defeat of the Emperor Bonaparte.

  ‘There is something about him I don’t like,’ Alecia thought to herself.

  Then she told herself that sh
e was just prejudiced and, when the Duke of Wellington and Lord Kiniston both accepted him, who was she to find fault?

  She opened her book, but found it difficult to concentrate on the written word when she had so many things to think about that were happening around her.

  If she had not been so agitated and nervous at having to impersonate Charis, she would have enjoyed being in what she was well aware was the centre of activity at Cambrai.

  Anyone in England would have been overwhelmed with excitement at meeting and being in close proximity with the hero of the day and she knew as a quiet country bumpkin it was something that she would remember for the rest of her life.

  ‘I must enjoy every minute of it,’ she thought, ‘because the moment Lord Kiniston learns that Charis is married and I am a fake, I shall be sent home in deep disgrace and it is doubtful if anybody will ever speak to me again!’

  She knew too that, when she listened to the conversation at the dinner table, she was privileged as few people in England were to know what was happening in Paris.

  She tried to understand the complexities of the Quadruple Alliance, which had been proposed by Viscount Castlereagh and which involved there being a Permanent Conference of four Ambassadors in Paris during the Occupation to keep an eye on France for any sign of a recurrence of revolutionary spirit.

  It certainly seemed to Alecia from the soldiers moving around in Cambrai that there was enough of the British Army here to prevent any revolutionary uprising.

  She was also sure that the average French peasant was as sick of war as was everybody else.

  Then she told herself that she was not in a position to judge and, because she was shy, she did not like to ask a great number of questions.

  It struck her that if she could talk about it alone with Lord Kiniston, it would be very intriguing and something else that she would be able to remember.

  When they were riding, it was impossible to have a continuous conversation and at other times there were always people about, especially Lady Lillian.

  Now that she had had time to think it over, she decided that she disliked Lady Lillian intensely and she was in fact a wicked and evil woman.

  There was something about her that was repellent, even though she was so beautiful.