Secret Love

by Barbara Cartland

  The coachman touched his hat.

  “Very good, my Lord.”

  It did not take long and Madame Frazer listened attentively as Robbie pointed out the sights of London.

  They drew up outside No. 10 and the footman on the box opened the carriage door and took a small case from the back of the carriage.

  Robbie realised that it was Madame’s luggage.

  “Is this all you have?” he asked her.

  Most women travelled with an enormous amount of trunks and hatboxes.

  “I came away – in a hurry,” she answered simply.

  The footman set down her case as the front door was opened by a porter.

  “Evenin’, my Lord,” he addressed Robbie.

  “This lady will be staying in my flat this evening, Jenkins, and I will be using Mr. Armstrong’s.”

  “Very good, my Lord. Shall I take this case up to your flat?”

  “Yes, it is Madame’s.”

  The porter went on ahead of them up the stairs and reached the second floor where Robbie’s flat was situated.

  It consisted of two small rooms and a bathroom and he had found it quite comfortable and cheap compared with other places he certainly could not afford.

  What was important was to be in Mayfair and to be in the centre of Society as he could usually walk to dinner parties and balls and this saved him money.

  Madame Frazer now looked round the sitting room which was decorated mostly with Robbie’s books. There was a writing desk and a table, both of Regency design, that had come from Creswell Court.

  “This is very pretty,” she murmured.

  “It is not very large, but it is my home in London.”

  Robbie looked at the grandfather clock as he said,

  “They do not provide food here with the exception of breakfast. I hope when you have had a little rest you will allow me to take you out to dinner.”

  Madame Frazer’s eyes lit up.

  “Are you sure you don’t have a prior engagement?”

  “I should be delighted if you would dine with me,” Robbie insisted.

  “That will be so lovely for me. It would be rather sad to spend my first night in London alone and unable to have anything to eat.”

  Robbie laughed.

  “I will take you out for dinner and we will have a nice simple meal in nearby Shepherd’s Market.”

  “That will be wonderful,” she sighed. “Thank you – very very much.”

  He then showed her the bedroom and the bathroom which was small but at least convenient.

  “I will come back for you at half-past eight. I am sure after crossing the Channel you should lie down for at least an hour.”

  “As you have been so kind I will be too excited to go to sleep and I would hate – to keep you waiting.”

  “If you need anything,” Robbie told her, “you can ask the porter or else knock on the door along the corridor which is where I will be sleeping in my friend’s flat.”

  “You are so kind I don’t know how to thank you.”

  He took his evening clothes and then left her alone. He went into his friend’s flat which was almost identical to his, except that it was not so well furnished.

  He felt that there was some mystery about Madame Frazer which was intriguing. It seemed extraordinary that someone who was obviously a lady and well-bred should, even if she was indeed a widow, be allowed to travel alone – without a courier, without a lady’s-maid and apparently without a friend.

  ‘There is certainly something odd about her,’ he said to himself, ‘and it will interest me to find out the truth and what is behind Madame’s hurried trip to London.’

  As he had his bath and changed, he thought it was the sort of story the Prince of Wales would enjoy and he would also be only too eager to meet someone so beautiful and apparently friendless.

  It passed through Robbie’s mind that, if His Royal Highness had been in his position, he would not have left his own flat for that of his friend.

  Then Robbie told himself that Madame Frazer was too young to understand the risk she was taking in going alone to a country she had never visited before – or else she was an adventuress who expected to be involved in a dream of some sort.

  Judging by her looks she would not be very long in finding it!

  There was a place in Shepherd’s Market where the food was good and single gentlemen, like Robbie, ate there if they did not go to their Club.

  When Robbie knocked on the door of his sitting room, Madame Frazer’s soft voice answered him.

  He opened the door and saw that she was wearing a very pretty and fashionable gown and he knew at a glance it must have come from Paris and was very expensive.

  She looked even lovelier than when he had first seen her.

  Her dark hair was most elegantly arranged and he thought that with her strange piercing blue eyes she was so exceptionally beautiful that it would have been dangerous for her to dine alone – even in a respectable hotel.

  Robbie looked his best in his evening clothes and she looked at him appreciatively.

  For a moment they just gazed at each other instead of speaking and then she said in the soft frightened voice she had used before,

  “It is very kind of you to take me out to dinner. I don’t want to be an encumbrance, but if I was alone I would have no idea where to go.”

  “Of course not and in case no one has told you, you should never walk about alone in London, especially in the evening.”

  She did not answer and so he added,

  “You know that is true in Paris and in every large City. So you must take great care of yourself.”

  She smiled at him.

  “It is so thrilling for me to be in London. I have always wanted to come here.”

  “I only hope you are not disappointed. As we are going to walk to the restaurant, you will need a wrap.”

  “I packed so quickly,” she said almost as if he had asked the question, “that I forgot I would want a cape in the evening. Just in case you are kind enough to ask me out to dinner again, I had better buy one tomorrow.”

  It passed through his mind that she was obviously not short of money, although when he was dressing, it had occurred to him that if he had taken her to a hotel, she might have wanted him to pay the bill.

  Now he saw that she was wearing a string of pearls round her neck that were obviously valuable. And there was a bracelet on her wrist – if the stones were real, which he felt sure they were, it was a costly piece of jewellery – in which case surely she must have friends who would invite her to stay with them.

  As she was English, why not English relations?

  There was however, he thought, just a faint accent in the way she pronounced some words.

  It was not entirely the usual way an English lady of Society would have spoken, but, as she had lived abroad, she might have had to speak French all the time.

  Then she could have acquired a faint French accent which would alter some words – it was all a riddle which he was determined to solve.

  They set off down Mount Street into Curzon Street and within a few minutes they were in Shepherd’s Market.

  Opening out of Curzon Street it was a picturesque part of London, reminiscent of Montmartre, with its open-air flower market, tall red chimneys and red-tiled roofs.

  The head-waiter welcomed Robbie with obvious delight,

  “You’ve been neglecting us, my Lord,” he began. “But I expect it’s because there’re so many parties you never have time to enjoy a quiet dinner here with us.”

  “I am with you now,” Robbie replied, “and I have brought a very lovely lady who is as hungry as I am. So tell us what you have on the menu for tonight.”

  He showed them to a comfortable corner.

  The restaurant was by no means smart, but Robbie had enjoyed a great number of meals there either alone or with a friend.

  Yet never, he reflected, had he been with anyone quite so attractive as his companion toni
ght.

  After he had ordered from the menu, he began,

  “Now do tell me about yourself, Madame Frazer. You can imagine how curious I am, as I had no idea, nor had Mr. Hudson, that the Comte would be bringing anyone with him from France.”

  “It was very kind of him to let me travel with him, and I was surprised how quickly his yacht could move. Far quicker than – ours.”

  As she spoke the last words she seemed to realise she had made a mistake and added quickly,

  “I mean – my h-husband’s.”

  She stammered again over the word ‘husband’ and Robbie remarked,

  “Your relations in France must be aware, as I am, that you are far too beautiful, and in fact far too young, to move about the world unchaperoned and unprotected.”

  Because he had paid her a compliment Madame Frazer blushed and she looked even more irresistible than before and Robbie was even more convinced that she was indeed very young.

  He bent forward.

  “If we are to be friends and quite frankly you need a friend, then we must be honest with each other.”

  There was silence and then Madame Frazer said,

  “Please, I don’t want – to tell anyone who I am – or why I am here.”

  The very idea seemed to make her tremble.

  “But you cannot fight the world alone. If you have committed a murder or some other crime, I will help and protect you, I promise.”

  “You are so kind. I did not believe there was so much kindness in the world especially from people one has never met before.”

  “Are you telling me you do not know the Comte?”

  “I know him only by name and when he agreed to take me to London, he did not insist on my explaining why I was going there or who I am.”

  Robbie smiled.

  “So you told him you are Madame Frazer. I know you said your husband is dead, but I doubt if there was ever a Monsieur Frazer to call himself your husband!”

  Her eyes flickered and she looked away from him.

  “Why – did you say – that?” she asked in a voice that shook.

  “Because you look too young to be married and so beautiful that no man, unless he was blind, deaf and dumb, would allow you to run away alone.”

  “Do you think – I look as if I am running away?”

  “But of course I do. If you had a real husband and I don’t believe he ever existed, he would not only never let you leave him but he would certainly be on the next ship crossing the Channel to find you!”

  There was silence.

  He thought with her head turned away from him that she was as lovely as any Greek Goddess and it would be impossible for a man who once possessed her to ever let her go.

  As softly as she had spoken, he asked her again,

  “Do tell me the truth. Tell me about yourself and I promise to help you in any way I can and of course protect you. To be frank, you will need it.”

  Again there was a long silence until she whispered in a voice he could hardly hear,

  “I want to trust you – but if I do – I am afraid that you will insist on my going back to France.”

  “I would have no authority to give you any orders,” replied Robbie. “I am only asking you to trust me so that I can try to help you and protect you from getting into more trouble than you are in already.”

  She drew in her breath and still did not speak and after a moment Robbie persisted,

  “Tell me please, what is your real name. I cannot go on calling you ‘Madame Frazer’ which I am sure you are not entitled to.”

  She gave a little laugh before she answered,

  “I was christened Josofine – ”

  “Very well, Josofine, and the name does suit you. My name is Robbie. So tell me why you have run away.”

  “You are quite sure – I have?”

  “Quite sure. You could not look as you do, dress as you do and act as you do unless you had someone to run away from.”

  She laughed and it was a very pretty sound.

  “You make it sound so funny. Yes, I had to run away otherwise I would have been forced to marry a man I thought was really horrible.”

  Robbie felt suddenly relieved.

  Although he would not admit it even to himself, he had been afraid there really was a Monsieur Frazer on the warpath.

  “So you ran away from Paris, Josofine?”

  She nodded.

  “It was the only thing I could do. My parents were determined I should marry that man. And as you know, marriages in France are arranged.”

  Robbie thought that this only happened amongst the aristocracy.

  “If the man your parents wanted you to marry really disgusted you, then you did the only thing you could do.”

  Josofine gave a little cry.

  “Oh, that is wonderful, you do understand! If I had stayed I would have found myself walking up the aisle however much I protested against it.”

  She gave a deep sigh.

  “I heard that the Comte was leaving for England – they were talking about it last night at dinner. So I just packed what I needed in a light case I could carry myself and set out for Ostend while it was still dark.”

  “How did you do that?”

  “I walked to a Posting inn which is not far from my home. I reached Ostend just in time to find the Comte and beg him to take me aboard before he left for England.”

  She gave a little laugh.

  “Actually he was still asleep when I arrived there – so I waited in the Saloon until he came up for breakfast.”

  “It must have given him a great shock to find you looking so glorious and demanding a passage when he least expected it.”

  Josofine laughed again.

  “I had heard he did not like having passengers with him and preferred being entirely alone except for the crew on his yacht. Yet when I pleaded with him, he gave in.”

  Robbie mused, seeing how lovely she was, it would be difficult for any man to refuse her anything she asked.

  “Now you have arrived in England, Josefine, and you are apparently friendless, what do you intend to do?”

  Josofine gave what was undoubtedly a very French shrug of her shoulders.

  “I expect,” she said, “eventually I will have to go home. But by that time the horrible man they want me to marry will have gone away and I hope they will realise once and for all I will not marry anyone I do not love.”

  “That is going to be somewhat difficult for you living in France,” suggested Robbie.

  “I know,” Josofine replied. “In which case I will just have to stay with you, whether you want me or not!”

  Naturally she was joking.

  But it suddenly struck Robbie that it would be an unexpected and very welcome gift from the Gods.

  “One thing we must do,” he said aloud, “is to make plans. As I would want you to enjoy yourself on this mad escapade, I will show you London, so that when you go home it will be something for you to remember.”

  Josofine gave a cry of delight.

  “Oh, that is what I want. I want to go to the Zoo. I want to see the British Museum, the Tower of London and of course Buckingham Palace.”

  “That is quite enough,” countered Robbie, “to keep us busy for a week at least.”

  With a jerk Robbie suddenly remembered that on Friday afternoon the Prince of Wales and his friends were all arriving at Creswell Court.

  And then he was also aware that he had not yet told Francis Knollys who he would be bringing with him to the secret party that was to take place at his home.

  He had been overcome with horror at what needed to be done before the party arrived, and had therefore not given a thought to the fact that he would have to produce a partner – just as all the other gentlemen in the party would be providing their own special and secretive ladies.

  Looking at Josofine he thought how interesting it would be to show her his own home and his pictures and if Wenda had done her job well they would be worth seeing.


  ‘We will talk about that later,’ he mused.

  At the same time the thought persisted in his mind all through dinner.

  They talked of where they would go tomorrow and decided to visit first the Zoo and the Tower of London.

  “I want to see everything, but everything,” Josofine was saying in a rapt voice as dinner ended, “but please I don’t want to be a bore so that you feel obliged to look after me when you have a thousand other things to do.”

  “I cannot think of anything more important at the moment than looking after you. It is all such an exciting adventure and just so unexpected that I am half afraid that when I wake up tomorrow morning, I will find I have been dreaming and you have disappeared into thin air or gone back to France!”

  “I am certainly not going to do that, Robbie. The most wonderful thing that could possibly happen is that I have found you and you should be so kind to me.”

  “I think you would find quite a few men prepared to do so,” Robbie added cynically.

  “If they were French, they would have frightened me, but because you are English and you understand, you are different from anyone else.”

  Robbie smiled at her, but he could not understand how she was working that out in her mind, although at the same time he hoped he would always be able to live up to her expectations and not scare her.

  She slipped her arm into his as they walked back to Mount Street later in the evening.

  It was only a short distance, but there were men standing about at the street corners who looked somehow sinister.

  As they passed them, Robbie felt Josofine move a little nearer to him and he knew she was thinking that if she had been alone she would have been intimidated.

  ‘She is little more than a child,’ he told himself, ‘and I must be very careful not to make her nervous of me as she is of other men.’

  He had deliberately not questioned her any further about her parents and the man she was running away from. He felt certain that sooner or later she would tell him of her own free will.

  Equally he could not help still feeling curious.

  She was so lovely and he was experienced enough to know that her clothes were very expensive. They could only have been made by a Parisian couturier of the highest grade.

  Her jewellery was real and she was certainly not suffering from poverty.