And yet when finally she was in bed, it was difficult to think of anything but his kisses and feel again the sensation like quicksilver that in its intensity had been half-ecstasy and half-pain.
‘I love him! I love him!’
It was impossible to do anything but repeat the words over and over again until they seemed to echo back at her in the darkness and she felt as if her love must reach out to him wherever he might be.
‘If only I could have died when he kissed me,’ she whispered to herself, afraid that when the rapture had gone she would be left only with the agony.
Now in the morning light it was easier to think a little more clearly.
Sooner or later he would have to know the truth, but, while her mind recognised that it was inevitable, her whole body screamed out in violent protest,
‘Not yet! Not yet! Live in your Fool’s Paradise a little longer! Perhaps he will kiss you again!’
Then she corrected herself
‘I have to think sanely.’
The kiss he had given her was what any man would give a woman whom he was taking home alone! A woman who was not socially important enough to have a chaperone.
But her heart told her something different.
Could a kiss that had been so wonderful, so ecstatic, so perfect in every way, have meant nothing to him?
She was too ignorant, she told herself, of men and their behaviour to know the answer.
She knew only that he had taken her into a Heaven that she had not even known existed and had brought a golden light into the darkness of her misery.
To lose him now completely would be an agony that was beyond words, thoughts or feelings.
Then she remembered that he had said he would see her this morning and the fear that she might be late brought her quickly out of bed.
It was in fact, she saw with consternation, ten o’clock, an inconceivably late hour for her to be rising.
As the housemaids were very short-handed at The Castle, they never troubled themselves with her and therefore no one had come to find out if she had overslept.
They would have expected that as usual she had called herself and been in the stables by six o’clock.
‘He will meet me on the Racecourse,’ Alita thought to herself, perhaps for the last time.
She shied away from the thought that, if this was so, it would be due to her being forced to tell him the truth as to why she could not meet him again.
She was quite certain that when her aunt returned this afternoon she would be suspicious about what had happened while she and her daughter had been away.
But, however imaginative the Duchess might be, she would never guess the real truth of what had occurred.
“It was marvellous!” Alita rejoiced aloud.
After she had washed, she realised that her old habit was probably in the case that had been in the carriage and she wondered if anyone had brought it upstairs.
She opened her bedroom door and found, surprisingly, that Johnson must have staggered up with the case and the hat boxes.
They were outside the door, and she brought them into the room.
When she had done so, she looked towards the wardrobe as if to reassure herself that the gown she had worn last night was still there.
The door was open and she could see it in the cupboard like a shaft of sunlight.
‘I shall never wear it again,’ she thought, ‘any more than I shall ever wear the riding habit.’
That, in a way, was even harder to bear, but how could she ever explain the possession of clothes that had come from the most exclusive tailor in London and, she suspected, the most expensive dressmaker?
She knew now who the strange woman had been who had stood watching her in the bedroom at Marshfield House while the tailor was taking her measurements.
Only Clint Wilbur, she thought, could have thought of a way to make her so happy and make her a present of the gown without a tiresome argument about it.
“It’s mine now!” Alita murmured. “And when I look at it I shall always think of him.”
She opened the leather case, which was a very smart and expensive one and looked as if it had never been used before.
On top were her two new habits, the grey and the black. Underneath she found the disreputable threadbare one that she had worn for so long.
She took out all three and then hesitated.
Should she wear her own and face reality or should she just once more appear looking smart and elegant with a waist that was even smaller than that of the Empress of Austria?
She had a feeling that if she went to Clint Wilbur tattered and untidy, he might perhaps regret that he had kissed her.
Who would want to kiss a scarecrow, which was how she looked ordinarily?
She went to the mirror on the dressing table to stare at her hair.
Last night when she had gone to bed she had not loosened it as she would normally have done.
She had thought about it and decided that, when she took out the pins, she would do so very carefully so that she could try to copy the way the dresser had arranged her hair.
To her delight the pins combined with the way her hair had been waved had survived a night’s sleep.
It was only a question of puffing out the sides, which had become a little flattened, putting the hairpins in a little more securely and combing the fringe.
There was no need to worry any further about what she should wear. Alita put on the grey habit, fastening it with some difficulty but nevertheless managing it alone.
Then she slipped her feet into the long, elegant, polished boots.
Never had she thought to own anything that was so becoming to her.
She drew her new gloves from the leather case and as she did so she told herself that this was the last time she would ever wear any of these clothes.
They would have to be hidden away like faded love letters and kept under lock and key.
She knelt down on the floor to open the hat boxes and as she did so there came a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” she asked apprehensively.
“’Tis me, Miss Alita,” Barnes replied. “Mr. Wilbur’s here to see you and I’ve put him in the drawing room.”
For a moment it was hard to reply, because Alita’s heart began to beat suffocatingly.
Then with an effort she managed to answer,
“I-I will be down in a – moment, Barnes.”
“Very good, miss.”
Why had he come? Alita wondered. Why had he not met her, as she had expected him to do, on the Racecourse?
She knew that old Barnes would not tell her uncle if she asked him not to. At the same time she felt that it was somehow ignominious to intrigue with the servants.
Then another thought struck her,
Perhaps something had gone wrong!
But she did not know what it could possibly be. Equally it seemed strange that Clint Wilbur should come to The Castle when he was well aware that the Duke would not approve of it.
She pushed the leather case under the bed so that anyone coming into her bedroom would not see it, then hid the hat boxes in the bottom of the wardrobe, closed the door and locked it.
Hastily, because she had no wish to keep him waiting, she ran then down the stairs.
Clint Wilbur was in the rather austere drawing room, standing in front of the fireplace in which there was no fire.
He was not wearing riding clothes and, as Alita walked towards him, it flashed through her mind that there had been a misunderstanding.
She had thought that when he had said he would see her at noon, he had meant it to be at the Racecourse.
Then, as she drew nearer, her eyes met his and it was difficult to think of anything but him.
Love welled up inside her so that her heart seemed to pound in her breast like a drum and it was difficult to breathe.
She moved automatically within a few feet of him and he watched her come.
They stood facing e
ach other without moving.
Then he said,
“You are well?”
“Of – course.”
The words they were speaking did not really matter. Something magnetic, like a spark of fire, ran between them.
“Wh-why have you come – here?”
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I could not wait any longer! I had to see you!”
She drew in her breath at the note in his voice.
“Why?”
He smiled and it seemed to illuminate his whole face.
“I thought you might guess the answer to that.”
She was silent for a moment before she said,
“ – I was going to – m-meet you on the Racecourse.”
“I know that,” he said, “but I felt that the Racecourse was not the right place for me to say what I have to say.”
She looked puzzled.
“Wh-what – is that?”
He took a step forward and put his arms round her.
As his lips sought hers she seemed to melt against him and then he was kissing her as he had done last night in the carriage.
Now, as he held her even closer and her whole body was touching his, they were no longer two people but one. And she was a part of him.
He kissed her until it seemed that the walls of the drawing room swung round her, until she heard music in her ears and felt as if he carried her into the sunshine and up to a special Heaven that she had never known before.
When finally he raised his head, she could only look at him and say what was in her heart,
“I love – you!”
She was not even certain if she had said it aloud, but only what the music in her whole body expressed, a love so overwhelming that there was nothing else and no one else but him in the whole world.
“And I love you, my darling!” he said against her lips. “And what I have come to ask you, is how soon will you marry me?”
For a moment she could hardly believe what she had heard.
She just thought that it must be part of the glory in her heart.
“I cannot wait,” Clint Wilbur went on. “I want you now, immediately, and without any arguments.”
It was then that Alita came back to sanity.
With an almost superhuman effort she struggled from his arms and then, because he was no longer supporting her, she felt that she would fall, so she reached out to hold onto the back of a chair.
“Did you – ask me to – marry you?” she questioned in a voice that he could barely hear.
“I said I want you now – at once,” he repeated.
She gave a little cry that was almost like that of a small animal that was being hurt.
“It’s impossible! Quite – impossible!”
“Why do you say that?”
“B-because I – cannot marry you.”
“But you love me?”
“Yes – I love you – but that has – nothing to do with it”
“I should have thought it had everything to do with it.”
“No – no – you don’t – understand.”
“How can I, if you will not tell me why you are refusing me?”
She could not look at him and he took a step forward to put both his hands on her shoulders.
“What are you hiding?” he asked. “What is this momentous secret that you have hinted at ever since I have known you? Are you already married?”
“No, no! Of course – not!”
“And you love me?”
“You – know I – do!”
“Then we will be married. I have already made all the arrangements.”
“How – could you do – that?”
“I knew last night that you loved me. I knew too that you would be difficult, as you are being now. But I don’t intend to allow anything to stand in the way of my marrying the only woman I have ever wanted as my wife.”
For the first time since he had taken hold of her, she raised her eyes to his.
“Is that – true?” she asked in a wondering tone.
“It is true,” he replied. “I have loved you, my darling, ever since you fainted and I carried you to the sofa in the library. I knew then that I had to look after you and protect you, if necessary from yourself.”
She gave a little sigh that was somehow heartrending.
“If you only – knew what it – means to me to hear you – speak like that,” she said. “I love you – so much that I can see or hear nothing except you – but I cannot – marry you.”
“Why not?”
She thought that he was going to take her in his arms again and, with a strength that she did not know she possessed, she moved away from him.
“I will – tell you what you – want to know,” she said. “Then you will – not only understand, but you will no – longer wish to – marry me.”
Her voice quivered on the words and he said,
“I cannot imagine anything that would prevent me from loving you as I do now or that would prevent me from making you my wife if you are free, as you say you are”
His words, spoken in the forceful and determined tone that she knew he always used when he was fighting for what he wanted, brought her to a standstill.
She clasped her hands together and stood looking at him.
He thought that he had never seen a woman’s eyes hold so much love and yet at the same time her expression was so tragic and so heart-breaking that it moved him as nothing in his life had ever done before.
“My darling, what have you done that could make you look like that?” he asked very gently. “If you have committed murder, I will shelter you, if you have committed every other crime in the calendar, we will forget them together.”
She tried to smile but failed and tears fell from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
“Before I – tell you,” she whispered, “and you leave me – will you please kiss me – once more?”
He held out his arms and she ran towards him.
He pulled her against him, holding her so tightly that it was difficult to breathe.
“Do you really think I would leave you?” he asked.
“You – will,” she answered. “I know – that. Kiss me – please kiss me – so that when you are gone – I can forget – everything except that you – once said you loved me.”
“I shall always love you,” he said. “Don’t speak of it as if it is something that is past. You are mine, Alita, mine because our love is bigger than anything else in the world, bigger than the crime or whatever secret you are trying to hide.”
She did not move or speak, but he knew that she did not believe him.
Despite his resolution and determination, which never before had broken, he began to feel afraid.
“I love you!” he said harshly. “Does that mean nothing to you?”
“It means – everything – everything!” she answered. “I thought when I first met you that I would never know love except what I gave the horses and the affection they gave me.”
She gave a little sob as she went on,
“And when I first loved you – it was like looking at the – moon and knowing that it was far, far away and quite impersonal. Still, I – loved you.”
“And now?”
“I – adore and – worship you,” she answered, “and that is – why I am – going to ask you – something.”
“What is it?”
“When I have – told you what you want to – hear, will you please go away without saying – anything? Just leave – for I could not – bear your – pity.”
Tears were running down her face, but her eyes still looked up into his.
Then, as her voice broke on the last words, his lips were upon hers.
He kissed her passionately, fiercely, possessively, in a very different manner from the way he had before.
She knew that he was fighting her with kisses, battling with a love that was demanding and dominating and violent.
It made her love him desperately, frantically and she wanted only to surrender herself to everything he asked of her and to be his completely and absolutely.
‘Oh, God – let me die!’ she prayed silently.
At the same time something wild and wonderful responded to the fire in him and she wanted to live.
While he kissed her, it seemed as though time stood still.
Then, as if they both knew that the moment had come when the truth must be spoken, she moved from the shelter of his arms and he did not try to stop her.
She walked to the window.
Although the sun was shining, she thought that it was a grey day and the gardens seemed to her shrouded in darkness.
She knew that he was waiting, but for a long time the words would not come to her lips and she felt as if she had suddenly been stricken with a paralysis so that even her brain had ceased to function.
Then at last, in a trembling voice, she said,
“The – D-Duke is my – uncle!”
“Your uncle?”
She knew by the surprise in Clint Wilbur’s voice that this was something he had not expected to hear.
“My father was his – younger brother, Lord Edward Lang,” Alita went on, “and he was a very – different character in every way. He loved – gaiety and all the – good things of life that were denied him.”
“Why were they denied to him?”
“Because he was the second son and, as is usual in England, the eldest son inherited everything. My father had only a very small allowance when he was a young man and after he married my mother he was always – hard-up and found it – difficult to make – ends meet.”
“And the Duke did not help him?”
“The Duke himself is very short of money, as you must be aware.”
Clint Wilbur did not speak and Alita went on, still with her back towards him,
“As the years went by, my father became – deeply in – debt. Then my mother became ill. The doctors told him that, if she was to – live, she must have an – expensive operation.”
“Surely the Duke – ” Clint Wilbur began.
“My father was just going to ask his brother to help him over my mother’s illness, when something – unforeseen and very – terrible happened.”
“What was that?”
“He had helped a friend who was in – temporary difficulties – by backing a cheque for several thousand – pounds.”
The Race For Love Page 13