Lovers in London

by Barbara Cartland

  “Enchanting! But I hear you have a secret you are keeping from me, Rake.”

  “You are quite right, sir, in saying it is a secret.”

  “Not to me,” asserted the Prince of Wales firmly. “After all, as one of your oldest friends, Rake, I think that you might have told me what was happening before you told anyone else!”

  There was a distinctly hurt note in his voice.

  The Marquis realised only too well that the Prince suffered from severe frustration because his mother would not allow him to take any part in political affairs.

  He therefore always wanted to be the first to know any secrets concerning his friends and acquaintances.

  The Marquis lowered his voice to speak directly into the Prince’s ear.

  “What you have heard, sir only happened today. It is unfortunate that the person who spoke to you became prematurely aware of the story.”

  “Well, if it is indeed true,” the Prince glowed, “I am absolutely delighted! It is just what we all hoped would happen sooner rather than later!”

  Before the Marquis could say anything the Prince continued,

  “I would like to take a closer look at the young lady who has succeeded where so many have failed!”

  The Prince turned towards Lanthia and once again she curtsied to him.

  “She is lovely, just perfectly lovely and of course I congratulate you, my dear Rake. Your taste has always been unerring and I am delighted that you are no longer the elusive Marquis!”

  The Marquis laughed, but at the same time he was hoping that no one could overhear their conversation.

  “You must tell me,” the Prince addressed Lanthia, “where my friend the Marquis met you and why I have not seen you before.”

  “I live in the country, Your Royal Highness,”

  The Marquis noticed that unusually Lanthia was not in the least shy at speaking to the Prince of Wales.

  In similar circumstances so many would be almost paralysed with embarrassment, but she was just looking at him admiringly.

  “Whereabouts in the country is your family home?” the Prince enquired.

  “In Huntingdonshire, sir.”

  “A very attractive County. As I was saying to your Lord Lieutenant only a few weeks ago – I expect you know him?”

  “Yes, indeed, sir. He is a friend of my parents and we are all attending the ball he is giving next month for Her Majesty the Empress of Austria.”

  “That is certainly something to greatly look forward to. As I shall doubtless be a guest on that occasion, I shall look forward to seeing you again.”

  Lanthia smiled at him.

  “It will be most exciting for me to meet you again, Your Royal Highness.”

  The Prince was now looking closely at her and the Marquis was only too well aware that he was thinking how pretty she was.

  Then the Prince continued,

  “I have another idea. The Princess is returning late tonight, and I know, Rake, that she will want to meet your fiancée. Bring her to luncheon tomorrow and then you can tell me more about this secret of yours which is apparently only known to the Conté de Vallecas!”

  There was nothing the Marquis could say, but that it would be a great honour and both he and Lanthia would be only too delighted to accept his invitation to luncheon at Marlborough House.

  There were several other guests anxious to speak to the Prince of Wales, so they moved away.

  As a number of guests had already left and others were saying their goodbyes to the Duke, the Marquis said to Lanthia in a low voice,

  “I think we had better go, it is getting rather late.”

  Actually he was thinking that the sooner they were both out of sight the better.

  If the Conté was walking round informing everyone they were engaged, it would make life extremely difficult.

  He would have to admit later it had just been a false alarm and he was not intending to break his vow to remain a bachelor.

  He thought Lanthia looked round wistfully, but she did not say anything.

  He so admired her self-control in keeping silent. He was sure any other woman would have pleaded with him to stay at the party longer.

  Just as he thought any other woman so young, and apparently knowing so little of London Society, would have been nervous at being presented to the Prince.

  Lanthia had behaved quite naturally and correctly.

  For the first time since they had met in such strange circumstances, the Marquis wondered who her father and mother were.

  The Duke was saying goodbye to his friends at the opening into the courtyard.

  The Marquis was most effusive to him.

  “Thank you a thousand times for such a delightful evening and for allowing me to bring Lanthia Grenville with me.”

  The Duke’s eyes twinkled.

  “She has embellished my party, Rake.”

  Lanthia thanked him as well and they walked into the courtyard.

  Now that they were not in a hurry, Lanthia ran to the fountain. She stood looking up at the water as it swept up towards the sky making thousands of rainbows.

  Watching her the Marquis felt she looked so lovely that any artist would wish to paint her.

  Then, glancing back, he could see the Conté and the Contessa saying farewell to their host.

  Taking Lanthia by the arm he hurried her out of the courtyard and up the steps into the other side of the hotel. They reached the lift and were taken to the second floor.

  When the lift stopped, the Marquis walked quickly, still without speaking, towards Lanthia’s room.

  She kept her key in the pretty bag she carried which matched her dress and when she drew it out, the Marquis took it from her and opened the door.

  Then as she entered he followed behind her.

  She looked at him as if she was somewhat surprised that he should do so.

  “I noticed the Spaniards were saying goodbye just after us,” he explained, “and as I have no wish to speak to the Conté, I hope you will allow me to stay here for a short while until they are safely in their own suite and behind closed doors.”

  “Yes, of course,” agreed Lanthia. “I saw him after dinner and I thought he was looking at you in a horribly revengeful way.”

  “He was thinking how he could make life difficult for me, which was why he told the Prince of Wales our secret.”

  “I just knew that was what he had done!” exclaimed Lanthia, “and I think it is most dishonourable of him. But then he is a nasty sinister man!”

  “I agree with you, Lanthia, and that is why I would like to wait a little time before I leave here.”

  He sank down in one of the armchairs in the sitting room and Lanthia remarked,

  “I am afraid I have nothing to offer you. Of course, if Papa was here, he would ask you if you would like a ‘night-cap’.”

  “Which would be very polite, but actually I want nothing, except I was thinking as we came away from the party that I have never asked you about your parents. In fact I did not even know you lived in Huntingdonshire.”

  “The reason why I am in London,” she explained, “is that I have to buy a new gown for the ball that the Lord Lieutenant is giving for the Empress of Austria.”

  “To which you are going, and Empress or no Empress, you will undoubtedly be the most beautiful lady present!”

  Lanthia laughed.

  “I don’t believe it for a moment, but it is very kind of you to say so.”

  Then she asked in a very different tone of voice,

  “What can we do about tomorrow? I know you don’t want to take me to Marlborough House.”

  “It is something we shall have to do, Lanthia. I am turning over in my mind whether I shall tell the Prince the truth or allow him to think we are engaged until we decide we are not suited to each other.”

  “Which is the easiest for you?”

  “I really do not know,” the Marquis acknowledged, shaking his head. “You see, we will not be the only guests at
Marlborough House, and I am afraid that the Prince, who can be most talkative, will want to tell them all our secret. In fact, if he is telling people that you have managed to ensnare me and the Conté is doing the same, we might as well announce our engagement in The Times right away!”

  He spoke bitterly with a touch of anger in his voice.

  Then he saw that Lanthia, who was perched on the arm of a chair, was looking upset.

  “I am very sorry,” she said. “Perhaps it would be better if I just returned to the country immediately and then they would have nothing to gossip about.”

  “I think such a move would give them a great deal to discuss. I am beginning to fear that this masquerade, in which you have been forced to take part, will harm us as much as the Conté intends it to do.”

  “Then what can we do?” asked Lanthia. “Perhaps Papa and Mama will be angry that I took part in it.”

  “But you were kind enough to save my life. Thus we have to be very clever and somehow extract ourselves from this dreadful mess, which is of course a deadly game that the Conté is playing to the full.”

  Lanthia sat back in the chair and clasped her hands in her lap.

  “I am sure you will think of something. If only Mr. Richard Burton was staying in the hotel, I am sure he could help us. He managed to extract himself from very many dangerous situations when just a casual word would have brought about his death.”

  The Marquis looked at her in surprise.

  “Do you know Richard Burton?” he enquired.

  “Oh, I wish I did! He was staying in this hotel only a few months ago and it would have been so wonderful to have seen him.”

  The Marquis was astonished.

  There was a note of admiration in her voice that he was accustomed to hear only when a lady was talking about him.

  “Why are you so impressed with Burton?” he asked. “I have met him once or twice and naturally I much admire him and his many achievements.”

  “You have met him?” enthused Lanthia excitedly. “Oh, how lucky you are! I have read and re-read his books and, as I have just said, I am sure he would think of a way out of this difficult situation.”

  “Burton is certainly a past-master at disguise and of course a great explorer, which is why we had something in common when we met.”

  Lanthia looked at him with what he thought was an incredulous expression.

  “Are you saying that you are an explorer too?”

  “I have certainly travelled a great deal,” replied the Marquis. “I have not been to Mecca like Richard Burton, but I have explored many other parts of the unknown world which I must say I found totally fascinating.”

  Lanthia sat forward in her chair.

  “Oh, I do hope you will tell me about it,” she cried. “Papa has told me all about his travels, and once when I was young he and Mama took me with them. I always hoped that when I had finished my education they would take me again.”

  She gave a little sigh

  “Now I think they are too old, so I will just have to travel and explore the world in my mind. Although I find it all very thrilling, it is not quite the same as if I was really climbing a mountain or riding a camel across the desert!”

  “You do astonish me, Lanthia, I have never yet met a woman of your age who wanted to do either of those things!”

  “Those and so many more. I long to look at the Sphinx and discover its many secrets and I want more than anything else to visit Greece and see the shining cliffs of Delphi.”

  Now there was a rapt note in her voice, which made the Marquis stare at her.

  He knew she was speaking with all sincerity and it astonished him that any woman should feel so elated and so excited just by the idea of exploring.

  It was like what he felt himself.

  He had always travelled alone, believing that if a woman accompanied him she would only be interested in talking about love.

  Or else complaining that he was not making her as comfortable as she wished to be.

  “You say your father has travelled extensively,” he said. “Rather late in our acquaintance, I do admit, but I should ask you now who your father is.”

  “You may well have read one of Papa’s books on travel. They are just signed Philip Grenville, because three of his best volumes were published before he came into the Baronetcy.”

  The Marquis started.

  “Of course I know your father’s books, but it never struck me at all that the name was the same as yours. I have four, if not more of his books, in my library.”

  “Well if you have read them, you will understand why I have always wanted to travel as he has and I hoped that when I was old enough he would take me on some wonderful expeditions, perhaps to discover the source of the Nile or journey into Tibet which is where he has always wanted to explore.”

  “And where I have been – ” replied the Marquis.

  Lanthia gave a cry.

  “You have actually been there! Tell me all about it. Tell me what you actually felt. I have read a dozen books on Tibet, but I have never met anyone who has actually been there!”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “Then I will certainly relate to you everything I can remember, but I think now, as it is getting late and I am quite sure our enemies are locked into their own rooms, I should leave you.”

  He rose slowly to his feet and added as if it was just an afterthought,

  “Surely you are not staying here alone.”

  “No, of course not. I have a dear friend of Mama’s, a charming Mrs. Blossom, who is the only daughter of the Bishop of Bristol and who is my chaperone.”

  She hoped that the Marquis was impressed as she continued,

  “She contracted a headache this afternoon and as she wanted to go to sleep and not be disturbed, I did not tell her I was dining downstairs with you.”

  “I think that was most wise of you and we shall have to think of some excuse tomorrow as to why we are going out to luncheon.”

  “Am I really to be invited with you to Marlborough House?” questioned Lanthia breathlessly. “Would it not be wiser to say that I had a cold and for you to have luncheon alone with His Royal Highness?”

  “I think, as you were looking perfectly healthy this evening when he spoke with you, he would think it rather strange that you developed a cold so quickly!”

  The Marquis was silent for a moment and then he added,

  “It is no use running away from the mess we are in. I think it is better to face the music bravely.”

  “Just as you would face a dust storm in the desert or an avalanche on the mountains!”

  The Marquis chuckled.

  “Very well,” he agreed, “and because we are fellow explorers, Lanthia, that is exactly what we must do. And tomorrow I will try and be as intelligent as Richard Burton would be about it.”

  “I am sure you will be as successful as him – he has never failed yet.”

  “That is true,” admitted the Marquis, “and as he has survived, so shall we.”

  He rose to his feet.

  Now he stood gazing at her, thinking how lovely she looked in her pretty white dress.

  Because she was so young and life was so exciting she seemed to vibrate almost as though a light was shining through her.

  Then he told himself he was being imaginative and the sooner he left the better.

  He held out his hand.

  “Goodnight, Lanthia, and thank you more than I can possibly say for all your kindness to me and the help you have given me.”

  She put her hand into his and the Marquis raised it to his lips.

  As he did so he thought that actually, if she were not so young, he would have kissed her and it was what any other woman would have expected from him.

  Strangely enough there was not the expression in her eyes that he was accustomed to, nor did she move instinctively nearer to him.

  “What time will you be collecting me tomorrow?” she asked.

  “At half-past twelv
e. Are you quite certain you can explain what is happening to your chaperone?”

  “I will manage it somehow!”

  Then as the Marquis reached the door she gave out a little cry.

  “Wait!” she called.

  “What is it, Lanthia?”

  “I think it would be wise if I looked up the corridor just to see if that horrible man is waiting for you. He might take the opportunity of injuring you if he thought you were here. I am sure he carries a stiletto!”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “I think it a bit unlikely. At the same time it would be wise and sensible of you to see if the coast is clear for me.”

  Lanthia walked to the door and opened it.

  She moved a few steps to the corner of the corridor.

  The gas lamps were still alight and there was no one to be seen. So she turned back.

  “I think you are quite safe,” she whispered, “but do hurry!”

  “I will certainly do so and goodnight, Lanthia. As you must be aware you have been really wonderful.”

  He set off down the corridor walking swiftly.

  Lanthia watched him for a moment and then turned back into her sitting room.

  She was thinking how extraordinary it was that the Marquis was an explorer. Because he was so smart and handsome, she thought he was what her father would have called ‘a man about town’ and was seldom seen outside London.

  But he had actually journeyed to Tibet.

  She could hardly believe it. Tibet was where her father had always wanted to go, but had reached no further than Nepal and on another trip he had spent some time in the Ural Mountains.

  ‘I must tell Papa about the Marquis,’ she decided as she undressed.

  But then she wondered what her father and mother would say when they learnt that she had pretended to be engaged to him.

  And that she had attended a dinner party with him tonight and would be accompanying him to a luncheon at Marlborough House tomorrow.

  It all seemed just like one of her dreams and she could not believe that her involvement was wrong in any way.

  Yet she was involved, because the Marquis had told an outright lie and she had accepted her part in maintaining his deception.

  She realised that poor Mrs. Blossom had no idea what she was doing and therefore could never to tell anyone that she had ever dined with the Duke of Sutherland at The Langham.