Hiding from Love

by Barbara Cartland

  Mrs. Griddle’s brows furrowed inquisitively together and she gave a wag of her finger.

  “Young lady – why am I now getting the distinct impression that you are some sort of runaway?”

  “Bullseye, eh, Miss Cressy?” whispered Señor de Guarda.

  Leonora tried to ignore him.

  “I am not – running away from my mother, at any rate,” she emphasised truthfully.

  She wanted to add that anyway none of it was Mrs. Griddle’s business, but she managed to bite her tongue.

  She was after all travelling alone and without the permission of her parents and thus she needed to keep such busybodies as Mrs. Griddle on her side if she could.

  “You are not a runaway from school?” interposed Mr. Griddle unexpectedly.

  “Oh, I should never have wished to do that,” cried Leonora with some passion. “I loved my school.”

  “You are lucky,” came in Desirée. “I hated mine.”

  Mrs. Griddle rounded on her daughter in outrage.

  “Hated Gadbolt? One of the finest Academies for Young Ladies in England! Nonsense! I’m sure Miss Cressy would have been only too delighted to attend Gadbolt.”

  Her eye swivelled towards Leonora.

  “Where did you go, dear?”

  “Fenfold,” replied Leonora simply.

  Mrs. Griddle swallowed.

  Fenfold was seen as the best school for daughters of the gentry, whilst Gadbolt was merely a Finishing School of sorts for the middle classes.

  It was unendurable that Miss Cressy should have attended a finer school than her own poor Desirée. With some degree of ill nature, she cast about for some way of reducing the stature of Fenfold,

  “I hear there’s been some hint of scandal attached to Fenfold. It’s common knowledge that one of the pupils had to leave when her Guardian stole her Trust money!”

  Mr. Chandos looked up sharply.

  “The poor girl was surely not to blame for the fact that her Guardian was a scoundrel,” he countered stiffly.

  Leonora, remembering Edith Lyford’s sobs the day she had to leave Fenfold, was gratified that he had spoken up on the innocent girl’s behalf.

  Mrs. Griddle was unappeased.

  “But for a school of that reputation to take in a girl with such questionable connections!”

  Leonora now felt exasperated and intervened sharply,

  “When Miss Lyford came to Fenfold her father was still alive and he was certainly not questionable! He was a businessman who worked abroad and when he became ill, he asked his London Solicitors to appoint a Guardian for his daughter and it was they who suggested the gentleman who turned out to be entirely untrustworthy.”

  “Bravo, Miss Cressy,” applauded Señor de Guarda.

  Mrs. Griddle sniffed.

  “Nevertheless – ” was all she could find to say.

  Desirée, who had been listening keenly to the story of Edith, now leaned eagerly across the table.

  “Whatever happened to Miss Lyford after she had had to leave Fenfold?” she asked Leonora.

  Leonora toyed unhappily with her napkin.

  “I don’t quite know. I lost touch with her. I wish I hadn’t, but my own life took such an unexpected turn that I was quite taken up with other matters.”

  She thought for a moment and added,

  “I do know that Edith Lyford had some hope of her father’s business partner coming to her aid.”

  Mr. Chandos leant forward to pour a glass of wine.

  “Did this partner live in England?” he asked.

  “No, he – why, I believe he lived in Brazil. Yes, it’s where her father had his business. Isn’t that strange?”

  “Strange?”

  “Well, if he didn’t come to England as Miss Lyford hoped he would, then he would still be in Brazil. I might run across him in Rio, and if I did, I would put Edith’s case to him and insist he help her retrieve her money.”

  “Did you learn his name?” asked Mr. Chandos.

  Leonora’s face fell.

  “No, I didn’t. Edith never mentioned him by name. She said she had only met him once, when she was a child. She remembered him as handsome and kind and he let her dance on his toes. He sounded just the kind of man with whom – ”

  Leonora blushed and added,

  “With whom – one might easily fall in love.”

  She scarcely knew why she had introduced such a subject, as it was one she and Isobel had scorned to discuss at Fenfold.

  “Why, Miss Cressy,” said Señor de Guarda, turning to regard her with interest. “So that is how to win your heart – dancing on my toes?”

  Aware of Mr Chandos’s stony silence, she wished the earth would open and swallow her up.

  Desirée meanwhile, her hands clasped tight on the table, stared at Leonora with shining eyes.

  “Miss Cressy? Can you be by any chance running away for love?”

  Leonora was spared the necessity of a reply by Mrs. Griddle, who turned and slapped Desirée’s wrist.

  “You are not to bring up such a subject, daughter!”

  Desirée shrank back in her chair as a flash of anger crossed Mr. Chandos’s face.

  He concealed the emotion quickly, but Leonora did notice. She also noticed how from that moment on he took no further part in the general conversation, but redoubled his attentions on Desirée.

  He filled her glass with wine, helped her to bread rolls, and even removed the bones from her fish when she expressed her dislike for the task.

  From time to time Mrs. Griddle glanced over at her daughter and Mr. Chandos with an air of satisfaction that dismayed Leonora.

  She had never considered herself a great beauty, but surely she was more pleasing to the eye than Desirée?

  The girl had the distinct air of a shadow – a skeletal creature with hair so pale it was almost white and pupils lacking any discernible colour.

  She was a mere mouse!

  And yet here was the elegant and distinguished Mr. Chandos, showering her with attention.

  It – was not – fair!

  She, Leonora, had encountered him first!

  CHAPTER SIX

  A half hour later Leonora stood staring out over the dark waves. A sea breeze blew and she gave a shiver.

  She wished that Finny would hurry with the shawl he had gone to collect from her cabin.

  It was Finny who had suggested a stroll on the deck before retiring for the night.

  He had found her in dismal spirits in her cabin. She had left the supper table before pudding, unable to bear any longer the sight of Desirée monopolising Mr. Chandos.

  Leonora was relieved to see Finny and had agreed with alacrity to a stroll. The sight of the star-laden sky had lifted her spirits, but the night air was so cool.

  Placing her hands on the ship’s rail, she gazed out at the horizon, a thread of pale light between sea and sky.

  Shivering again, she looked for Finny. There was no sign of him, but her eye was caught by the red glow of a cigar in the shadows.

  “Hello?” she called out.

  The red glow advanced.

  Her heart lurched as she saw that it was held in the left hand of Mr. Chandos. He went to the rail and flicked the cigar overboard, then leaned on his elbows to watch it being swallowed by the deep.

  He said not a word and she wondered unhappily if he did not feel inclined to talk to her because it was she and not Desirée.

  “It’s a beautifully clear night,” she ventured at last.

  He turned his head slightly, but she could not read his expression as the moonlight was behind him.

  “It is indeed,” he replied. “Had we been on deck a short while ago we might have seen the Scilly Isles. We should reach the Azores in two days time.”

  “You have – made this journey often, then?”

  “Not often enough.”

  He raised his head to regard the sky and the large white moon riding there.

  “An Atlantic moon,” he murmured
.

  Leonora followed his gaze.

  “Is it – so very different – from other moons?”

  “Look at it. Is it the same moon you can see from your bedroom window in England?”

  “Well – no. At home, at most times, it looks softer as if it’s wrapped in muslin. Only on very frosty nights is it like this – sharp as a blade.”

  “Alas! It’s not often enough that I witness a frosty English night.”

  “Oh, you don’t live in England?”

  “I live in Brazil,” he answered.

  “In – Rio?”

  “In Rio,” came the firm reply.

  Recalling that the Griddles were going on to open a shop in São Paulo, she felt an ungallant surge of triumph.

  Her rival Desirée would be leaving the field free!

  She studied his profile as he stared out to sea.

  That nose really was most aristocratic! Perhaps he was indeed an aristocrat – the younger son of an Earl or a Duke. After all, she really knew very little about him. In fact she really knew too little about him to feel as she did.

  With a sudden rush of shame she thought of Isobel and their pact never to succumb to the allure of romance.

  What had happened since parting from Isobel?

  Firstly she had found Señor de Guarda attractive and then she became so infatuated with the masked gentleman who turned out to be that dreadful Lord Merton – and now here she was dreaming of a dalliance with Mr. Chandos.

  Perhaps it was because she was so far away from the life of study at Fenfold? Perhaps this was what happened to a young lady with nothing better to occupy her mind – she became victim to storybook love!

  Yet she was helpless in its grip and she had no one to turn to for guidance.

  She was so alone – alone with this growing passion for the elusive Mr. Chandos.

  As if he sensed her train of thought, he turned from his perusal of the sea.

  In a shaft of moonlight his eyes gleamed at her.

  Was there just a hint of that expression that had so intrigued her?

  She would never be sure, for at that very moment an unwelcome voice rang out in the stillness of the night.

  “Mr. Chandos!”

  Both Mr. Chandos and Leonora turned to see Mrs. Griddle approach, a ship’s lantern in her fist.

  “I’ve been looking for you all over, Mr. Chandos,” she puffed, throwing a suspicious glance at Leonora.

  “For me?” questioned Mr. Chandos calmly.

  “Yes.” Mrs. Griddle put her free hand on her breast as if to still its motion. “I’d remarked on your displeasure at my giving Desirée a slap on the wrist. I felt I should explain my action lest I appear too cruel a mother.”

  She glanced again at Leonora before continuing,

  “It’s just that I don’t wish Desirée to brood on the subject of love. You see, in London she was involved with a penniless young man, quite undesirable in the opinion of her father and me. We had someone far more suitable in mind, but our Desirée refused to even countenance him and continued to slip out to meet her young man.

  “In the end we decided the only course open to us was to remove her entirely, and that is what we have done. The sea is a mighty divider, as I’m sure you’d agree, Mr. Chandos! And Desirée’s heart will soon mend, particularly if we find her a more suitable match!”

  She held the lantern high and peered meaningfully at Mr. Chandos, who rewarded her with the same silence he had maintained throughout.

  Leonora, however, who had listened in mounting rage to Mrs Griddle’s self-righteous soliloquy, could not contain herself.

  “Surely you wouldn’t force your daughter to marry a man she does not love against her will!” she exclaimed.

  Mrs. Griddle’s mouth dropped open at this outburst and the hand holding the lantern shook a little.

  Mr. Chandos regarded Leonora coolly.

  “You sound just as if you are speaking from bitter experience, Miss Cressy,” he commented softly.

  Leonora reddened.

  “I am.”

  Their mutual gaze locked for a moment before Mrs. Griddle recovered her voice.

  “I knew it, young lady. You’ve run away from an arranged marriage. Oh, how could you? You must surely understand that in these matters your parents know best.”

  Leonora swung round, stung.

  “On this occasion my stepfather most decidedly does not know best!” she retorted hotly. “All he is interested in is the fact that my proposed husband is rich. He didn’t care a jot that my suitor was as – as unattractive and unprincipled as himself!”

  “My goodness!” exclaimed Mrs. Griddle, glancing at Mr. Chandos. “What do you mean by ‘unprincipled’?”

  “Just as I say,” replied Leonora defiantly. “He was a man who had lived so long in some foreign country that he might simply buy himself a wife in England!”

  “I presume you had some conversation with him,” remarked Mr. Chandos, still staring at the waves, “to have discovered him to be so without redeeming features?”

  “I danced with him once, but we barely conversed. It was only later that I realised his true nature.”

  “His true nature?” repeated Mr. Chandos.

  “Yes. He – he frequented Clubs of ill-repute – and bartered for me over a game of cards.”

  “Dearie me!” exclaimed Mrs Griddle.

  “Yet it might have been better to actually meet him after he bid for your hand,” persisted Mr. Chandos, “before pronouncing so on his ill qualities.”

  “I did not need to meet him – ” persisted Leonora defensively, wondering why he should be advocating on behalf of someone he had never met.

  “The mere fact that my stepfather championed Lord Merton’s suit was quite enough.”

  She could have bit her tongue as she realised that she had revealed the name of her erstwhile suitor.

  Mrs. Griddle’s eyes widened.

  “You turned down the proposal of a Lord?”

  “She did,” came Finny’s voice.

  No one had noticed his approach. He stood now at Leonora’s elbow, shawl over his arm.

  “She said she’d rather marry Lord Merton’s horse, as it ain’t so old and grizzled!”

  “Oh, Finny,” Leonora murmured reprovingly.

  It then struck her that Mr. Chandos might actually be acquainted with Lord Merton.

  Mr. Chandos detached himself from the rail.

  “You must please excuse me, ladies, from further participation in this enlightening conversation as I do have some work to complete in my cabin.”

  He gave a bow and strode off along the deck.

  Her heart miserable, Leonora watched him go.

  Mrs. Griddle also stared after him.

  “What work can he need to do, I would wonder? He brought nothing on board with him.”

  “He didn’t need to,” Finny then offered cheerfully, oblivious of his previous indiscretion. “He has everything in his cabin already. Books, writing desk, ink and paper. He has clothes too – shirts, cravats and leather boots.”

  “Indeed?” Mrs. Griddle looked thoughtful. “And I thought he had decided to travel at the last moment. I am glad to say that I stand corrected. A man of purpose is by far the more preferable suitor.”

  Leonora heard her with a sinking heart.

  There was no doubt that Mrs. Griddle had plans for Mr. Chandos and meanwhile she had no doubt blotted her copybook forever in his eyes!

  “Finny, I think I shall retire.”

  “I’ll see you to your cabin,” suggested Finny.

  Mrs. Griddle’s eyes narrowed, as Finny then offered Leonora his arm.

  She considered it quite improper for a cabin boy to take such liberties with a passenger and was astonished that Leonora did not reprimand the fellow.

  ‘I must mention all this to Mr. Griddle,’ she said to herself. ‘It may be that we should discourage intercourse between Miss Cressy and Desirée! Miss Cressy seems far too ready to disr
egard Social distinctions.’

  Leonora might have been amused if she had been privy to Mrs. Griddle’s thoughts.

  As it was, she received Finny’s arm gratefully as she suddenly felt a little unwell and was glad of the support.

  Finny led her proudly away. Though he played the role of cabin boy well, he considered his true position on board to be that of guardian to Miss Leonora.

  Leonora did not look back at Mrs. Griddle, but leaned heavily against Finny.

  She knew that it was no use scolding him for his indiscretion in front of Mr. Chandos.

  Her mother had once told Finny that he must learn to ‘bite his tongue’ in company. He had taken the caution literally and made his tongue bleed! He had not thought like others since he fell out of a tree as a boy and landed on his head!

  The ship gave a sudden lurch and Leonora clutched Finny more tightly.

  “I don’t feel – quite myself,” she confessed.

  “I’ll go bring you hot water and sugar.”

  In her cabin Leonora sank gratefully onto her bed. Finny knelt to remove her shoes and then tiptoed from the cabin as she lay back against her pillows.

  “Thank you so much, Finny,” she mumbled as the cabin door closed behind him.

  She thought of Mr. Chandos, working away in his cabin across the narrow corridor and she was glad that he could not see her now. Her forehead was hot and she was sure her face was flushed.

  She heard footsteps outside – it could not be Finny returning already with the hot drink he had promised.

  The footsteps stopped outside her door.

  The doorknob was turning, slowly and quietly. She raised herself on an elbow, staring anxiously.

  “W-who is there?” she called.

  “A devoted admirer!” came the unexpected reply.

  The door then opened and there to her astonishment stood Señor de Guarda, a tumbler of whisky in his hand.

  Leonora stared at him in dismay.

  “What do you want?” she asked in a low tone.

  Señor de Guarda shrugged.

  “Company. It’s lonely on deck. I hate the sea and the sea knows it, for what does it do, but send a great wave crashing over me!”

  Leonora closed her eyes for a moment as the ship gave a sudden plunge.

  “Well, I am afraid I am not fit company for anyone at the moment,” she muttered truthfully.