When she looked in the mirror she thought it would be hard for even her uncle to recognise her now.
She did not look in the least like a young girl of only eighteen, but was transformed into a mature gypsy woman.
It was when they had reached this stage that she saw the clothes she was to wear for the first time. They were, she learned, Lendi’s very best.
The gown was of a very fine gold silk that shone with every movement she made. Over it was a gauze veil that fell from her head to her feet. This was held in place by a gold band in the centre of which was embroidered a strange emblem.
It had belonged, she was told, to a famous Indian fortune–teller.
Della had already seen some of Lendi’s Indian jewellery and now everything she owned was at her disposal.
There was a necklace fashioned with small stones into an exquisite pattern. There were ear–rings, bracelets and rings to match, and each piece, Della thought, was lovelier than the last.
When she was wearing them all she felt like an Indian Princess.
She gathered from Lendi that they had been handed down for many generations. Her great–great–grandmother had brought them to Europe when she came from India.
By the time Della was finally dressed, she felt as excited as a debutante attending her first ball.
This was such an adventure and the mere fact that she looked so different in every way made it unbelievably thrilling.
She looked at herself in the large mirror Lendi kept in her caravan. It would be impossible, Della considered, for anyone she knew to recognise her.
The carriage arrived. It was a closed one drawn by two horses and all the gypsies came to see her off.
“Good luck. The stars guide you,” urged Piramus comfortingly, as he helped her into the carriage.
There was a cheer as the horses started off and Della knew that the gypsies would wave until the carriage was out of sight.
She was longing to see the inside of the Marquis’s house, but still she could not help feeling nervous. It would be ghastly if she made a mistake and let the Marquis down.
As they trotted up the drive she said a little prayer.
Not to the moon or the stars, but to her own God and the Saints her mother always prayed to.
The front of the house was lit up by the flames from huge torches on each side of the door and there was a red carpet down the steps.
As Della walked quickly up the steps she saw two footmen waiting in the hall to receive her.
She reckoned that if the Marquis did not wish anyone to see her arrive she should have gone to a back door. There was, however, no one to notice her as she was taken across the hall and down a wide passage.
She walked slowly because she wanted to look at the pictures hanging on the walls, the many antique chests and all the Marquis’s beautiful furniture.
The footman ahead of her opened a door and she entered what she recognised to be the drawing room where three magnificent crystal chandeliers were blazing with hundreds of candles.
The room was filled with carved and gilded pieces of furniture, that she instantly knew had been designed by the Adam brothers.
Everywhere there was a profusion of flowers and it was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful rooms she had ever seen.
The footman walked straight through the drawing room and opened a door at the far end and Della knew before she reached it that this was the anteroom the Marquis had mentioned to her.
When she entered it was very different from anything she could have anticipated.
The Marquis had erected what looked almost like a tent. It was made of thin dark blue gauze that was sprinkled all over with golden stars.
Beneath the tent there was a throne–like chair where Della guessed she was expected to sit.
In front of the chair was a small table covered with what was obviously an Indian cloth, embroidered, not only with silk, but also with gems that sparkled in the candlelight.
“Be there anything you require, madam?” asked the footman.
“I am sure I have everything I need, thank you,” replied Della.
Looking around Della thought how clever the Marquis had been.
It would be impossible for any young girl, or even a man for that matter, not to be intrigued. They could all consult the fortune–teller who was treated as if she was an Oriental Princess.
Della sat down in the chair and placed Lendi’s crystal ball on the table.
It seemed to catch the light of the candles and as Della looked into its depths she thought she saw figures moving in it.
Peering closer she told herself that she was just being imaginative, but when she held the crystal ball in her hand, she felt that it somehow vibrated to her.
She tried to remember everything that Lendi had taught her.
It was not long before she heard voices coming from the drawing room. The ladies must have left the dining room.
She thought they must have started dinner earlier than she expected and now the moment had come to test her brains and her ability.
She just wondered a little nervously if the Marquis would make her aware which amongst his guests was Alice, the Viscount, and the fortune–hunter.
She need not have worried.
The Marquis brought the guests in to her after the gentlemen had finished their port.
He introduced his guests emphasising their names so that it was impossible for her to make a mistake.
To begin with he was sensible enough to bring her two young women, which Della saw in turn. She thought they must have come from London, as they seemed far more sophisticated than country girls would have been.
To her relief she found it quite easy to tell them what they wanted to know and when each one left they thanked her for being so wonderful.
“She is marvellous!” she heard one girl exclaim as she walked back into the drawing room.
The Marquis next brought her another girl who obviously came from the country and after her came a young man.
As Della gazed between her crystal ball and his eager face she was intelligent enough to realise that the one thing he wanted was to win a certain race. One of his horses was scheduled to run at the end of the week and she assured him there would be no difficulty in his horse passing the winning post first. He went away smiling happily.
She had told eight fortunes before the Marquis brought her Alice and he was shrewd enough not to introduce her as his niece.
Instead as he entered the room he said,
“We still have quite a lot of people waiting to consult Madam Lendi so you must not take too long, Alice.”
“I want to hear everything she has to tell me, Uncle Kelvin,” replied Alice firmly. “So the others will just have to wait.”
The Marquis smiled at her, but he did not argue.
As soon as he left the room, Della began,
“Take the crystal ball in your hands, young lady, and think of what you wish to know. The stars which are watching you will bring you the right answer.”
Alice did as she was told.
Della thought she was a very attractive girl. In fact, pretty enough not to need a large fortune for her to be a success.
Then heeding the Marquis’s words, she told Alice that she was in danger.
“There is a gentleman,” she said, “who has a honeyed tongue, but it belies his nature. He is stalking you like a sportsman will stalk a stag, but his heart is not in the right place. If you listen to him he will not bring you happiness but tears.”
She realised Alice was listening intently to her as she continued,
“There is another gentleman who is favoured by the moon as being upright, strong and brave. At the same time he is quiet, modest and a little shy. He does not blow his own trumpet. You should encourage him because he will offer you what it is impossible for the first man to do.”
“What is that?” Alice asked breathlessly.
“A true heart and the adoration that every woman hope
s to receive from a man she might consider as her husband.”
“But he has not asked me – ”
“He is shy and afraid of being hurt. Even the strongest and most powerful of men can be made to feel humiliated if the woman they love is unkind or indifferent to them.”
She paused for a moment.
“Hold out your hand or better still give him your heart. He is the man who will make you happy while the other who talks glibly will give you only disappointment and tears.”
Della elaborated the story a little more and then lent back in her chair as if she was exhausted.
“I can see only too clearly,” she resumed. “You stand at the crossroads. Be careful, very careful indeed, that you do not travel in the wrong direction.”
She knew when Alice had left her she had given the girl something to think about.
After she had seen two other girls, the Marquis brought in the Viscount.
He was easy.
Della told him ‘a faint heart never won a fair lady’ and if he did not sweep the woman he loved off her feet, he would lose her.
“I am afraid of frightening her,” whispered the Viscount.
“Women are not frightened by real love,” added Della. “Show her your heart, tell her what she means to you and I do not think you will be disappointed.”
The Viscount was delighted.
“You have given me hope and courage,” he said. “Thank you, madam, I am so very grateful.”
He bowed before he left the room.
Della was not at all surprised when after she had prophesied for two more women, the Marquis brought in Cyril Andover, the fortune–hunter.
There was no need for her to look into the crystal ball as Della became instantly aware of his vibrations as soon as he came into the room.
In many ways they were the same as Jason’s.
She told him that he would make a great mistake in his life if he married while he was still so young.
“There are many good things coming to you in the future,” Della told him, “but they are not yet within sight. Watch for them and be careful you do not miss them when they do appear because it will bring you riches and a position in life you have never had before.”
“I cannot imagine what they can be,” muttered Cyril.
“You must not be impatient. The stars cannot be hurried nor can the moon. If you take the wrong step now it will be something you will regret for the rest of your life.”
She had at least, she recognised, given him food for thought.
Then the Marquis came to tell her that there were no more guests to consult her, so he thanked her formally for having made his party so successful.
The butler escorted Della from the anteroom into the hall and the carriage that had brought her to the house was waiting to take her back to the gypsy camp.
‘Tonight has been,’ thought Della, ‘quite an experience.’
At the same time she wished she could have seen more of the house, especially the Marquis’s equestrian pictures.
‘Perhaps one day I can pay a visit to Clare Hall when there is no party,’ she said to herself as she drove home.
But she thought it was unlikely as the Marquis had gone to Lendi for help, which she had now given him and perhaps he would have no further interest in the gypsies or in her.
She did not know why but when the carriage reached the caravans she felt depressed.
One of the gypsies opened the door and as he did so the groom lent towards her from the driving seat and called,
“’Is Lordship asked I to tell you that I’m to fetch you tomorrow evenin’ at a quarter–to–eight.”
Della looked at him in astonishment.
“Tomorrow evening?”
“Aye,” replied the driver. “I thinks as how ’is Lordship be havin’ another party.”
Della wanted to ask him for more information, but it was unlikely he would know any more. And it would be wrong to question one of the Marquis’s servants, so she therefore thanked him for driving her back.
She hurried to the caravan she shared with Mireli, forgetting that Mireli would not be there. As Della was likely to be back late she had said she would sleep with Lendi.
Opening the door and finding the caravan empty, Della remembered and sighed deeply, glad to be alone.
Quickly taking off and putting away all Lendi’s jewellery and the elaborate gown she had borrowed, she climbed into bed.
She was actually very tired. The huge effort of concentrating on so many young people, especially Alice and the Viscount, had been exhausting.
Almost as soon as her head touched the pillow she was asleep.
*
When she woke the following morning it was nearly midday.
No one had disturbed her and she had missed breakfast, but there was a little bowl of fruit by her bed and she guessed that Mireli must have put it there for her.
She dressed quickly and ran to Lendi’s caravan.
The old gypsy was delighted to see her.
“What happened,” she asked. “You do well? Not nervous?”
“I hope I did well,” replied Della, “but I kept thinking you would have done much better.”
“I sure you exactly – what his Lordship required.”
“The sad thing will be,” said Della wistfully, “that we will never know the end of the story. Alice is unlikely to announce her engagement before we move on and therefore I shall remain curious for the rest of my life as to whether I have been successful or failed to solve his Lordship’s problem.”
Lendi laughed.
“You see his Lordship again – very soon.”
“Is that a prediction?”
Lendi nodded.
She was quite right.
In the afternoon the Marquis unexpectedly appeared in the camp.
The gypsy women had all gone down to the village and most of the men had left with them. Lendi was asleep.
Della was sitting on the steps of her caravan in the sunshine.
She heard the sound of a horse approaching and to her surprise she saw the Marquis come riding from the direction of the woods.
He pulled in his horse when he reached Della.
“I have come to tell you,” he began, “to come in an ordinary evening gown when you dine with me tonight. There will be no one who will ask you to tell their fortunes.”
“In which case why do you wish me to dine with you?” asked a mystified Della.
“I will tell you later,” replied the Marquis. “I cannot speak now, in case the young people who are roaming over the grounds see me. Alice thinks there was some reason for what you said to her last night.”
“I only hope she will do what I asked her to do.”
“She is thinking about it, I am very aware of that and the Viscount is being very attentive. In fact they are boating on the lake at this very moment, much to the annoyance of the fortune–hunter.”
“Oh, I am so glad! Very glad!” exclaimed Della.
The Marquis smiled, turned his horse round and took off his hat.
“Until this evening,” he called and rode away.
Della stared after him in complexity.
If he did not want her to tell fortunes then why had he invited her to Clare Court?
She was very willing to go, but it all seemed very strange.
She had fortunately packed into her bag a simple little gown that she had bought when she was in London. It was certainly a dramatic contrast to the fabulous clothes she had worn last night.
When she called to say goodnight to Lendi, the old gypsy told her,
“You look very pretty, Lady. Prettier than you look – as impersonation of me!”
“I quite fancied myself as an Indian Princess!” sighed Della.
Lendi laughed.
“You much more lovely as – self.”
Della looked in Lendi’s large mirror.
“I so wish it was true, Lendi!”
She was wondering w
ho else would be present at the dinner party. She did not imagine it would be any of the young girls who had been there last night.
Yet if not, why should the Marquis have asked her?
She puzzled over this dilemma all the time she was being driven back to Clare Court.
The butler received her at the front door and she followed him down the passage to the drawing room as she had done last night.
Having asked her name he opened the door and announced as Della had told him,
“Miss Della, my Lord.”
The Marquis was standing alone in front of the mantelpiece.
The previous evening, although she had been agitated, Della had admired how distinguished he looked in his evening clothes. He had worn a white tie and a cut–away coat that gave him a very athletic figure.
Tonight he was wearing a velvet smoking jacket like her uncle always wore when they dined alone. It was frogged with braid and was the deep green of the pool in the wood.
As Della walked towards him she thought it a strange coincidence that her gown too was green, although hers was the soft green of the leaves of spring.
“You have come,” said the Marquis as she reached him. “I was half afraid that Piramus might suddenly have moved away without any warning or perhaps you had disappeared into the sky from whence you came in order to help me.”
Della smiled.
“Have I really helped you?”
“I think so,” replied the Marquis. “When my party left this morning, my niece Alice, instead of returning to London with most of them, accepted an invitation from the Viscount to stay at his home which is about ten miles from here.”
“Oh, this is such good news,” cried Della. “I am sure the fortune–hunter was not asked as well.”
“No. He had to drive back to London, but he did not seem quite so annoyed about it as I had expected.”
Della thought with a smile that was due to what she had said to him.
Then as if she had suddenly become aware of it, she enquired,
“Are you saying that all your party has departed? I thought you had asked me to dinner tonight because someone had been forgotten or perhaps wanted to hear more than I was able to tell them last night.”
Follow Your Heart Page 10