06.The Penniless Peer (The Eternal Collection)

by Cartland, Barbara

  “And so I have inherited it down the ages!” Fenella cried, “what a wonderful thought! And perhaps I have also inherited some of the Princess’s more reprehensible qualities.” She looked at Sir Nicolas challengingly as she spoke.

  “I should have thought that unlikely,” he said dryly.

  “Did you have any surprises when you were researching for your family tree?” Fenella asked.

  She looked surreptitiously at the clock as she spoke. She was finding it hard to keep Sir Nicolas engaged and she was hoping that Hetty and Periquine would not be long.

  Surely, she thought, Hetty would be expected to return home at a reasonable time?

  It was obvious that Sir Nicolas on enquiring at the Hall where she was, had been told that she was visiting Mrs. Buckle, the supposedly ill House-Keeper at the Priory.

  But nearly two hours in which to make a visit of mercy would strain the credibility of even the most doting parent.

  “Yes, I discovered several extremely interesting characters, among my mother’s ancestors who were the Earls of St. Quentin,” Sir Nicolas was saying. “The Emperor Charlemagne was one and one of the Habsburg Kings was another. Now I think of it, there is a faint chance, Miss Lambert, that we might be related.”

  “That would be very exciting,” Fenella said. “If you ever come here again I might get our family tree from Papa and bring it for your perusal.”

  “I should like that,” Sir Nicolas said and she realised he was speaking quite sincerely.

  “Tell me about the Habsburg King whose blood we may both have in our veins,” Fenella pleaded.

  “Unfortunately there is not a great deal known about him . . .” Sir Nicolas began.

  Because she was really curious Fenella was leaning forward intently, when suddenly the door of the Salon opened and Hetty and Lord Corbury appeared together.

  There was a little silence and quite unexpectedly Fenella felt guilty, as if she were doing something wrong.

  Perhaps it was the annoyance in Hetty’s eyes or the expression in Lord Corbury’s. She was not certain. She only knew it brought her swiftly to her feet as with a little exclamation Hetty hurried forward with both hands outstretched.

  “Sir Nicolas ! you have arrived at last,” she exclaimed. “We had almost given up hope of ever seeing you.”

  “I was unfortunately delayed,” Sir Nicolas replied taking both Hetty’s hands in his, but raising only one to his lips.

  “But now at last you are here and I am overcome with chagrin to think I was not waiting at home for you, as I have been every day this week.”

  “You should not have put yourself out on my account,” Sir Nicolas said.

  He spoke politely, but Fenella thought with a little smile that that was exactly what he did expect. He must have been quite annoyed to find on his arrival that Hetty was not waiting for him.

  “How do you do, Waringham,” Lord Corbury said, and it was quite obvious from his tone of voice and the manner in which he held out his hand that he was definitely not pleased to see Sir Nicolas.

  “The servants told me on my arrival that Hetty had come here,” Sir Nicolas explained, “and as it was such a short distance I drove on in search of her.”

  “And now you have found me! “ Hetty exclaimed. “How delightful it is to think that you will be our guest! Papa and Mama have been so looking forward to entertaining you.”

  Sir Nicolas’s eyes were on her lovely face before he answered slowly,

  “I hope you too have been looking forward to my visit.”

  “I have indeed,” Hetty smiled, “and I have many plans of ways of amusing ourselves. Come, we must go home.”

  She turned as she spoke, and then as if she saw Fenella for the first time she said with a sharp note in her voice,

  “Really, Fenella, you look a sad romp, and surely it is time you had a new gown. The one you have on has certainly done its duty through the years.”

  There was a look in Hetty’s beautiful blue eyes which told Fenella that the reason for her attack lay in the fact that she and Sir Nicolas had appeared quite at home together when Hetty had first come into the room.

  She was wondering how she could answer when Lord Corbury said almost roughly,

  “You know as well as I do, Hetty, my Cousin Lionel spends all his money on books and there is none to spare for Fenella. New gowns, although you may not be aware of it, cost money.”

  Fenella knew from a note in his voice that he was not really defending her but hating Sir Nicolas because he was rich and because Hetty had been so warm in her greeting of him.

  “Poor Fenella, I had forgotten! “ Hetty said in a somewhat affected tone.

  She held out her hand to Lord Corbury.

  “Goodbye, Periquine, it is delightful to find you home again and so unexpectedly. I know Mama and Papa will want to ask you over to dinner one evening. Papa was saying only yesterday he wondered when you would return.”

  She turned her head towards Sir Nicolas and added,

  “Periquine and I were brought up together as children, but since he left the Army he has been having a gay time in London and the country now has little fascination for him.”

  “That is where you are mistaken,” Lord Corbury corrected. “When you are in Sussex I find it the most fascinating place in the world.”

  Fenella drew in her breath. She knew that Periquine was deliberately asserting himself to show Sir Nicolas that he too was a suitor for Hetty’s hand, and she was afraid that Hetty would not be pleased at his being so outspoken.

  But Hetty was used to having every man who looked into her lovely face a slave to her beauty.

  “Dear Periquine, you were always so flattering,” she simpered.

  Then slipping her arm through Sir Nicolas’s she looked up into his eyes and said confidingly,

  “Take me away, Sir Nicolas, or Periquine will turn my head with his compliments. I swear he has a touch of the Irish in him, for he expends his blarney on every pretty girl he meets.”

  Lord Corbury’s lips were pressed tightly together and his chin squared. Fenella saw the flash of anger in his eyes, and fearing that he would make things worse for himself, she said hastily,

  “Goodbye, Hetty, you look lovely, simply lovely! I am sure that not only Periquine but every man in Sussex would vote you the most beautiful girl in the world, if they had the opportunity to do so.”

  As she finished speaking she realised that Sir Nicolas was smiling at her. Not a very broad smile it was true, little more than a stiff stretching of his lips, but nevertheless a smile of understanding.

  ‘Perhaps he is more perceptive than he appears,’ she thought to herself.

  Then with a flutter of her blue skirts Hetty led the way from the Salon into the Hall, chattering to Sir Nicolas and leaning on his arm as they walked towards the front door.

  Because there was nothing else for them to do, Lord Corbury and Fenella followed behind.

  ‘It is almost like a wedding procession,’ Fenella thought to herself and realised how infuriated Periquine would be if she said the words aloud.

  Outside in the drive there were two vehicles, both drawn by magnificent horse-flesh.

  Hetty’s chaise, which she often drove herself, had only one horse but Sir Nicolas, having come from London, had a Phaeton drawn by four.

  It was clear that he had changed horses on the way, because the team he had now were still spirited, still chafing at their bits, fidgeting and anxious to move off.

  “Will you come with me?” Sir Nicolas asked Hetty.

  “But of course,” she answered.

  He helped her into the Phaeton before he walked round to the other side and climbing into the driver’s seat took the reins from his groom.

  Towering like a Queen above them Hetty made a graceful gesture with her gloved hand.

  “Goodbye, Periquine, goodbye Fenella,” she said, “I hope I shall see you both again soon.”

  Then Sir Nicolas started his horses, and with the
wheels of the Phaeton scrunching on the loose gravel they drove away down the avenue of oak trees.

  “Curse him! “ Lord Corbury said furiously as Fenella stood watching them out of sight. “How can I compete with a man who can afford horses like that?”

  “One does not love anyone for their horses,” Fenella replied.

  “But Hetty cannot help being impressed with them,” Lord Corbury answered. “And she is impressed with him anyway.”

  “He is very stiff,” Fenella said, “but I think if he relaxed he might be quite interesting.”

  “Interesting! That stuck-up, stuffed pelican!” Lord Corbury ejaculated. “And what in God’s name were you saying to him when we came into the room?”

  “I was trying to keep him from coming in search of Hetty,” Fenella answered. “I did not think you would want him bursting upon you in the arbour.”

  “How did you know we were in the arb-?” Lord Conbury began. Then added, “Blast it, Fenella, you know too much! It was bad luck his turning up after all. I was beginning to think that Hetty had forgotten his very existence.”

  He walked back into the house and Fenella followed him.

  It was always the same, she thought, after Hetty had been at the Priory she left Periquine frustrated and unhappy.

  “Did you not enjoy your time together?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Of course I did,” Lord Corbury answered.

  They had reached the Salon by now and she saw him glance at the Priest’s Hole as if he wanted to reassure himself that the money was still there.

  “She is the most beautiful creature,” he went on almost as if he spoke to himself. “I cannot believe there has ever been anyone as lovely. So how can I expect her to live in this squalor?”

  “She has money of her own,” Fenella suggested.

  “I do not intend to live on my wife,” Lord Corbury said harshly, “and, what is more, Hetty spends every penny that her father allows her. I could hardly expect her to pay for the food she eats or the servants who wait on her in my house.”

  He sounded so irritable that Fenella could only murmur apologetically,

  “No, of course not.”

  “I must have some money,” Lord Corbury said, “and, Fenella, last night I had an idea.”

  “An idea?” Fenella enquired.

  “I was looking around the house,” Lord Corbury said, “trying to find anything - even a piece of china which had been forgotten and might prove valuable - then in the attics I found these.”

  He went to the drawer of the desk as he spoke and brought out two black masks.

  “What are they?” Fenella asked curiously.

  “Masks,” he said, “that were worn at a Charade my mother arranged one Christmas. It was years ago, I was only ten at the time, so I imagine you were too young to be present.”

  “I certainly was at the age of four,” Fenella smiled.

  “I remember it well,” Lord Corbury said. “I was only allowed to watch, but my father was the hero and he was a Highwayman.”

  “Highwayman!” Fenella exclaimed.

  “The play was called `Your Money Or Your Life’,” Lord Corbury explained.

  His eyes met Fenella’s as he spoke and for a moment they looked at each other.

  “It would not be safe,” Fenella said. “You know that most people have a footman on their coaches carrying a blunderbuss.”

  “Not all of them,” Lord Corbury corrected, “and not in a part of the country they know well or when they are only travelling a short distance.”

  “Periquine . . .” Fenella began.

  “We would not go on the main highway,” Lord Corbury continued, “but keep to the side roads. I am sure the coaches there are not armed any more than I should carry a firearm if I was visiting your father or going to The Hall.”

  “No of course not,” Fenella agreed.

  “We could ride about five to six miles away where we would not be known. I believe that the Gentlemen of the Road, as they are called, make a fortune.”

  “I doubt if they can collect as much as we did the other night,” Fenella said.

  “It is certainly more sporting,” Lord Corbury continued. “I have an aversion, Fenella, to creeping into a man’s house when it is dark, stealing his gold when he has not a chance of defending himself or seeing who the intruder might be.”

  “We do not want to be identified,” Fenella protested.

  “No of course not,” Lord Corbury agreed. “But at the same time it is a question of man to man, and the strongest wins, even if he does hold a pistol in one hand.”

  “I see what you mean,” Fenella said. “All right, Periquine, when do we start?”

  He held out the mask towards her. “Why not now?”

  “Now!”

  Fenella took the mask from him and realised that its design, with only narrow slits for the eyes, made it a good disguise for the face, not like the frivolous wide-eyed masks that were used at Cotillions or fancy-dress parties.

  “I was thinking about it in the night,” Lord Corbury went on. “I reckon the best time to be on the road would be when people are going out to dinner. To begin with the women would have their jewels on and a man would doubtless be carrying a heavy purse.”

  “I am sure you are right,” Fenella agreed but a little apprehensively.

  “We will keep in the shadows of the trees,” he continued, “and assess the coach very carefully before we make a move. Then, if we think it safe, I will hold them up and you will keep your pistol trained on the coachmen while I take the goods from the occupants of the carriage.”

  “It sounds easy,” Fenella said.

  “And ought to prove quite lucrative!” Lord Corbury enthused. “That is what is important. If it is not going to prove profitable, then there is no point our risking our necks.”

  “They hang Highwaymen up on the gibbet at the crossroad,” Fenella said.

  “And they hang robbers at Tyburn,” Lord Corbury retorted. “I have a suspicion that the place is not particularly important when it is your neck that is being stretched.”

  Fenella laughed.

  “I have a feeling, Periquine, that you were not born to be hanged.”

  “My tutor at Eton had quite a different idea,” Lord Con- bury replied. “But if we get some really good hauls, Fenella, we should be getting on towards our goal.”

  “Yes of course,” Fenella agreed.

  She wondered what Hetty would think if she knew the risks Periquine was taking in his efforts to win her.

  Would she be touched and flattered that a man gambled his life so that he could lay the spoils of his ill-gotten gains at her feet?

  Or would she merely be shocked and think it reprehensible that he should not behave like a gentleman, even if he were a poverty-stricken one?

  She could not answer the question. She only knew that whatever Periquine wished her to do with him she would do.

  There was a light of adventure in his eyes and he was smiling. She knew that anything was better than seeing him depressed, miserable and without hope.

  “One good thing,” she said, “is that I discovered upstairs, also in the attic as it happens, the riding-breeches you wore when you were fifteen. Your mother was a hoarder, Periquine, and there are all sorts of things up there put away carefully, which now quite surprisingly are coming into use.”

  “Riding-breeches! “ Lord Corbury exclaimed. “Well, you certainly cannot come dressed as a woman.”

  “I will go and put them on,” Fenella said, “and if I tuck my hair under one of your riding-caps, I promise you I shall look a most ferocious Highwayman.”

  She turned the mask over in her hands.

  “This only covers the upper part of our faces,” she said. “I believe that Highwaymen always wear a black scarf which they can pull up over their chins. That means only their mouths can be seen and it is very difficult to recognise a person by their mouth only.”

  “You are right,” Lord Corbury
cried. “I have a scarf somewhere which will be just what we need. And anyway I will wear my oldest clothes.”

  Fenella was just going to say that she thought however old his clothes he would look extremely elegant in them, because with his good figure, it was difficult for him to look anything else. Then she decided it was best for him to take a lot of trouble to disguise himself.

  She could not help feeling that if she saw Periquine however well he was masked she would recognise him.

  There was something about his broad shoulders and narrow hips, the manner in which he walked and sat a horse, the carriage of his head and his whole lithe athletic body which made him different from other men.

  Very different indeed from Sir Nicolas. Different too, she was sure, from the majority of his contemporaries.

  Yet there was no use in splitting straws. Periquine was intent on this escapade and although she was a little doubtful of its being successful, she knew that any arguments she might present were not likely to prove effective.

  Every time he saw Hetty it made him more anxious to marry her and more infuriated with his impecunious position.

  The five thousand pounds they had left from their robbery were not going to last for ever. In fact Fenella had the feeling that Periquine would soon spend it, not on riotous living, but on the sheer necessities of everyday existence at the Priory.

  ‘We have to have some money somehow,’ she thought to herself as she went upstairs thinking of what lay ahead.

  It was true quite a lot of Highwaymen were hanged, but at the same time there were undoubtedly a large number of them still at large. She could only hope they would be lucky.

  She gave a little sigh.

  “And if we fail — we fail together,” she whispered to herself. “I do not mind hanging if I am hanged beside Periquine.”

  Chapter Four

  It was a misty evening with a promise of rain and the small wood seemed dark and drear.

  Lord Corbury however was in high spirits and Fenella could not help thinking he looked a romantic figure with his black mask and a black silk handkerchief lying on his chest ready to be pulled up over his chin.

  “What do you wager we will take in our first haul?” he asked.