A Very Unusual Wife

by Barbara Cartland

  They had criticised their style, the way they handled their horses and their appearance.

  Only where the Marquis was concerned had they made no comments and yet Elmina had felt that Chang thought a great many things that he had not mentioned.

  She had grown so fond of the strange little man she had introduced into the household that he had become her only confidant and in many ways her guide.

  She found, and it had not surprised her, that Chang had studied the teaching of Confucius as well as other Eastern religions, although she was not certain which one he actually belonged to.

  In addition she felt that he used what were almost mystical powers when he dealt with the difficult horses, which would then do anything he wanted of them and also when he was dealing with people.

  She had always been certain that he had deliberately evoked her interest in him when she stopped to give him a penny, simply because some inner sense had told him that she would be able to help him when everybody else had failed to do so.

  Now she asked him simply and without any embarrassment to tell her about the man she was to marry.

  She waited in silence for nearly a minute before Chang said in the voice he used when he was looking as she described to herself as ‘inwards’.

  Then he said,

  “His Lordship’s a man who has great possibilities, my Lady. But everything comes to him too easy. He’s only to want – and it’s there! As they say in China, ‘he holds out his hand, and the peach falls!’ That’s not good. A man must fight for what he wants, not with his body, but with his mind and it’s his instinct to be hunter!”

  “Thank you, Chang. That has been a help and now it is important that I should work at my Jujitsu. We have been slack about it lately and I have not had a lesson for two weeks.”

  “Very good, my Lady. What time you wish me upstairs?”

  Elmina calculated that her mother would, as usual, go and rest before dinner at five-o’clock and she was certain that her sisters would be writing to the men they were in love with to tell them what had happened.

  “I will be ready at five-thirty, Chang,” she said. “That will give us over an hour before I have my bath.”

  “Very good, my Lady.”

  “I expect Papa will want to ride in about twenty minutes.”

  She thought that it would take her father all that time to compose a note to the Marquis, and doubtless he would make various attempts at it before he was finally satisfied.

  “Which horse will his Lordship ride?” Chang enquired.

  “I think both Papa and I will need a challenge,” Elmina said with a smile. “Saddle those two new horses we are breaking in. They will give us no time to think or talk about anything else.”

  Chang grinned.

  Then, having kissed Star lightly on his nose, Elmina hurried back to the hall to wait patiently for her father.

  Having handed over to Barton his letter for the Marquis, he came towards her scowling, because he had a feeling that things were happening that he did not understand.

  He was, in fact, not certain whether he was pleased or insulted by the Marquis of Falcon’s high-handed behaviour.

  Chapter Two

  “The Marquis of Falcon, my Lady!” the butler announced.

  Lady Carstairs gave a well-simulated cry of surprise and, as the door closed behind the servant, she ran across the drawing room floor with both her hands outstretched.

  “Alston, my dear!” she exclaimed. “I was so worried when I heard you had gone to the country, but you are back!”

  “Yes, I am back,” the Marquis said in the slow drawling tone that was characteristic of him.

  He kissed each of the outstretched hands extended to him, but ignored the invitation of two red lips and moved across the room to stand with his back to the fireplace.

  Lady Carstairs eyed him a little warily.

  She thought it was strange that he had not taken her into his arms, but she was too experienced in the ways of men to make any comment.

  Instead she moved slowly and sinuously to join him at the fireplace, aware that the gown she was wearing clung to her figure in all the right places and it would be impossible for any man not to admire the curves of her body as well as the beauty of her face.

  “How could you have gone away without telling me?” she asked in a soft voice that invariably evoked a protective response in her admirers.

  “I had some horses arriving at Falcon,” the Marquis replied, “and I wished to ensure that they were correctly stabled and were as good as they looked when I bought them.”

  “I am sure that they are perfect, as is everything you possess!” Lady Carstairs said. “And I hope there are some superlative ones with which you will allow me to drive in Hyde Park.”

  The Marquis noted that she said ‘drive’ and not ‘ride’, knowing that Lady Carstairs was not really happy on a horse.

  Although occasionally she appeared on horseback, it was only to show off her riding habits, which were smarter than those most other women wore and she also liked to have a posse of men riding with her.

  Instead of answering her question as she expected, the Marquis said,

  “I have something to tell you, Sapphire.”

  It was a name he always found difficulty in remembering because he was well aware that Lady Carstairs had been christened ‘Sarah’.

  But finding when she was a reigning beauty it was too commonplace a name she had changed it to ‘Sapphire’ simply because she owned a particularly fine necklace of the stones.

  There was a note in his voice that seemed, although Lady Carstairs was not certain, somewhat unusual.

  Clasping her hands together a little theatrically, she asked,

  “Oh, Alston, what is it? There is not any trouble – I hope?”

  “That depends upon what you call ‘trouble’,” the Marquis replied. “The fact is I am going to be married!”

  He spoke bluntly, almost as if he felt it was best to get the matter over with and had no intention of leaking out the truth slowly to make it more palatable.

  There was a perceptible pause before Lady Carstairs repeated almost beneath her breath,

  “Married?”

  Raising her large blue eyes up to his, she asked,

  “But, why – and to whom? Why have I not – heard of this – before?”

  Her voice gradually rose and, as she said the last word, she was almost shrieking and the Marquis said quickly,

  “It is something I have been trying to avoid for some time, Sapphire, although I knew that it would have to happen sooner or later because it is necessary for me to have an heir.”

  “Of course, of course!” Lady Carstairs agreed. “But why now – just when we are so – happy?”

  There was a tremor on the word ‘happy’ as if she might burst into tears and the Marquis said,

  “I will tell you the reason. Then you will understand that there is no need for hysterics or to make a fuss over what is an entirely natural occurrence.”

  “It is not – natural to – me!” Lady Carstairs objected.

  She sat down, as she spoke, on the edge of the sofa and drawing a small lace-edged handkerchief from the belt of her gown, lifted it to her eyes.

  The Marquis knew that if there were any tears she would not allow them to fall or brush them away, when the tips of her long eyelashes that were as gold as her hair had been darkened with mascara.

  “The explanation is quite simple,” he said in a lofty tone, “and actually in the circumstances you will find no reason to be jealous.”

  “Of course I am jealous!” Lady Carstairs interrupted. “I love you, Alston, as you well know, as I have never loved any man in my whole life before! How can you do – this to – me?”

  “What is more to the point, I am doing it to myself!” the Marquis replied with a somewhat wry twist of his lips. “Let me make it quite clear, Sapphire, I have no wish to marry! In fact, if you want the truth, it’s a damned nuisance!”<
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  “Then why are you to be married?”

  “You can blame the Queen for that!”

  “The Queen?”

  There was a different note in Lady Carstairs’s voice now.

  Then, after a second’s silence, she said,

  “You are not saying – you are not suggesting that the Queen – knows about us?”

  “I expect so,” the Marquis replied perfunctorily, “although I doubt if the Prime Minister would have told her.”

  “Do you mean to tell me that Lord John Russell is involved in this?”

  “Yes, I do!” the Marquis replied. “In actual fact it was he who suggested that I should be married!”

  Lady Carstairs made a sound that was one of disgust.

  “How dare he interfere! How dare he concern himself with matters which are outside his jurisdiction!”

  “That is where you are wrong,” the Marquis said, “and if you will stop talking for a moment, Sapphire, I will tell you exactly what has happened.”

  Lady Carstairs gave what purported to be a heartrending sob before she wailed,

  “I cannot – bear it! How can I bear to – think of you – married to – anybody but me?”

  “That is somewhat of an impossibility, unless you are prepared to be bigamous!” the Marquis said drily.

  “Oh, Alston, how can you be so unkind when you know – you have broken my heart?”

  “I have done nothing of the sort!” he retorted with just a touch of irritation in his voice. “Now, if you will only listen to the truth, you will understand.”

  “I am – listening!” Lady Carstairs faltered.

  “Russell sent for me last week,” the Marquis began, “and informed me I was the man who was far the most suited to become Master of the Horse to Her Majesty!”

  Lady Carstairs looked up and exclaimed,

  “Of course! How could anybody be as good or as knowledgeable as you in that particular post?”

  “But his Lordship also said,” the Marquis went on as if she had not interrupted, “that both he and Her Majesty thought it advisable that the position should be filled by a married man!”

  Lady Carstairs did not speak, but the Marquis realised that she was beginning to understand as he continued,

  “Russell suggested with all the tact for which he is famous that I was really too young to be Master of the Horse unless I was married and he even insinuated that otherwise the Prince Consort might be jealous of me!”

  “That does not surprise me,” Lady Carstairs remarked, almost as if she knew that it was her cue to say something flattering.

  “Considering the Queen is besotted by her stiff and boring husband,” the Marquis said, “and thinks the sun rises and sets on him, I should hardly have thought that there was room for me!”

  “Any woman from the Queen to a milkmaid would fall in love with you, dearest Alston, at first sight!” Lady Carstairs declared. “But are you saying that you really have to go to such lengths – as to be married?”

  “I will tell you quite frankly that I do want to be Master of the Horse. The Royal Stables are in a disgraceful state since King William was never particularly interested in horseflesh and, although the Prince Consort has tightened up and improved the inside of the Palace, he is nevertheless an ignoramus when it comes to horses!”

  There was a glint in the Marquis’s eyes as he spoke, as if he was looking forward to the task of sweeping away what he privately thought of as the ‘dust and rubbish of ages’.

  Because she felt that he had not yet given her the most important information of all, Lady Carstairs asked faintly,

  “Who is this – fortunate girl who is to marry the most – attractive man in – the whole world?”

  “That is the question I have been asking myself,” the Marquis said. “I don’t mind telling you, Sapphire, that I had great difficulty in finding an answer.”

  He gave a short laugh.

  “After all in the life I lead I don’t come in contact with marriageable young women, but only with lovely creatures like yourself!”

  He looked down at Lady Carstairs as he spoke and, as if he found her beauty very appealing, his hard eyes softened for a moment.

  “You are very beautiful, Sapphire!” he said. “So I knew it would be hopeless to look for anybody half as lovely as you.

  “Oh, Alston, if only I could marry you myself! Perhaps – ”

  She hesitated.

  “I saw Carstairs the day before I left,” the Marquis interrupted, “and he appeared to be in the finest of health. In fact he told me he was leaving tomorrow to attend the race meeting at Doncaster.”

  “So that is why you came back!”

  Lady Carstairs sprang to her feet and moved towards the Marquis.

  He put his arms around her, then looking down at the beautiful face turned up to his he scrutinised it for a long moment before he kissed her.

  As he did so, she pressed herself closer and closer against him and their kiss became passionate, until the Marquis made the first move and deliberately set her on one side.

  “Now listen to me, Sapphire,” he said, “because I have a great many important things to do, having been out of London for three days.”

  “But we will dine together tomorrow night?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Oh, Alston, it seems a very long time away!”

  “I know,” he replied, “but you must be very careful not to get talked about unnecessarily. You know how spiteful people are and I don’t wish them to gossip about us at Buckingham Palace or in the country for that matter.”

  “I will be very very careful,” Lady Carstairs promised, “but I love you and when you are there it is difficult for me to think of anything else or to know that there is any other person in the room!”

  The Marquis had heard this too often for it to come as a novel declaration.

  Instead he merely kissed Lady Carstairs again and said,

  “I must leave you. I expect your husband will be back before long and this is not a moment for him to be kicking up a fuss!”

  “I am sure he would do nothing of the sort!” Lady Carstairs said almost indignantly.

  The Marquis was not listening.

  “Take care of yourself,” he said. “I will expect you at seven-thirty tomorrow night.”

  He paused and then said,

  “I suppose it would be more sensible if I invited a few other people to dine as well.”

  “Oh, no, Alston!” Lady Carstairs exclaimed. “No! No! I want to be alone with you!”

  “Well, perhaps we will be able to make some other sort of arrangement in the future,” the Marquis said as if he was speaking to himself.

  She went close to him and he held her for a moment before he put her aside ready to leaving the room.

  It was then, as she quickly collected her scattered senses, that she said,

  “You must promise me, Alston, on everything you hold holy – that you will not let this horrible marriage of yours make – any difference to – us!”

  Her voice sharpened as she went on,

  “How could I lose you? How can I bear to be without you? Oh, dearest wonderful Alston, no woman has ever had such a perfect lover as you and I would rather die than live without you!”

  This again was what the Marquis had heard too often for it to make any particular impact on him.

  Instead he merely muttered,

  “We will talk about it tomorrow night.”

  Only as he took the first step towards the door did Lady Carstairs say,

  “But Alston, you have not yet told me whom you are to marry! Do I know her?”

  “You may have seen her at one of the balls you have attended,” the Marquis said vaguely. “She is the Earl of Warnborough’s daughter, whose estate marches with mine.”

  Lady Carstairs looked blank.

  “I cannot remember ever meeting a girl called Warn-borough!”

  “Warne!” the Earl corrected her.
“And I am told that she is very pretty!”

  “You are – told? Are you saying you have not yet met her?”

  “Not to my knowledge. I would have done so this week if I had not received your letter telling me that you would be alone.”

  “Yes, alone, dearest, except for you, and I know how wonderful it will be!”

  The Marquis smiled at her, then said briskly,

  “I really must go. I shall be late anyway, which is a mistake!”

  “Where are you going?” Lady Carstairs enquired curiously.

  “To the Palace,” the Marquis replied. “But I have to see Russell first in Downing Street to inform him that I am now completely eligible to be Master of the Horse.”

  He did not wait for Lady Carstairs’s answer, but went from the room before her clinging hands could delay him.

  As he walked down the stairs, he thought with satisfaction that the interview had passed off much less uncomfortably than he had anticipated.

  He was well aware that all women he took an interest in became immediately over-possessive.

  It was something he disliked, but it was unfortunately something that he could not control.

  It usually arose when they suspected or learnt that there was another woman involved, together with tears and recriminations and wild assertions that if they lost his love they would kill themselves.

  As none of them had ever done so and he had over and over again heard the threat repeated, he knew cynically that however much their hearts might seem to be involved, the beauties he spent his time with had a real affection only for themselves.

  Nevertheless, there was nothing he disliked more than a scene such as he had just avoided with considerable dexterity.

  It had, he told himself complacently, been quite a stroke of genius to tell Sapphire he had not even met the girl he was to marry, for even she would find it difficult to be jealous of somebody who was faceless.

  He often thought that the women he made love to and who found him so attractive were very lucky that he was not married already.

  Most men in his position had been marched up the aisle as the result of continual pressure from their parents, before they had the good sense or the strength of will to speak up for themselves.