Wish for Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “You cannot carry him yourself.”

  “I know that,” Jeremy said impatiently. “I saw two men working in Robinson’s field as we rode here.”

  He looked down at the stranger and Mariota followed his eyes and for the first time she realised that it was a very handsome man lying at their feet.

  He was exquisitely dressed, his riding boots were smarter than any she had seen before, while his cravat was tied in an elegant fashion that she was sure her brother would try to copy.

  His high hat, which had fallen off when he fell, was also a different shape from the ones her father and Jeremy wore and she knew that everything about him was exceedingly smart, elegant and very costly.

  “Hurry, Mariota!” Jeremy urged sharply. “Somebody might come by and, whatever happens, you must not be seen dressed like that.”

  “No – of course – not,” Mariota replied.

  She went down into the road, mounted Firefly without any difficulty and rode him through the wood.

  It was only as she hurried back to the house as quickly as he condescended to carry her that she fully realised how reprehensible and terrifying Jeremy’s action had been.

  But at least it was an adventure and now they would both have something else to think about besides their lack of money.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Waiting at the house for Jeremy to bring back the stranger, Mariota thought that the minutes seemed to drag by and she was frightened that something had upset his plans.

  As she thought it over, she realised that he had been quite right in saying they must bring the fallen man back to the house as an act of kindness.

  The two men working in the fields must have seen them. They would have thought it very strange if she and Jeremy had ridden home without being aware that an accident had occurred.

  ‘Jeremy is clever and has thought it out very carefully,’ Mariota told herself.

  At the same time she was still horrified that he should have done anything so wrong and so dangerous.

  Supposing she had not seen the stranger coming through the trees or had not intervened, then it might be Jeremy who was lying wounded or dead and the horror and scandal it would have caused was horrifying even to contemplate.

  ‘We must never – never do such a – thing again,’ Mariota told herself uneasily.

  She was afraid that since Jeremy had been successful he might think it an easy way of obtaining money.

  ‘It is wrong, I know it is wrong, Mama,’ she said silently to her mother. ‘But he is young and he does hate looking old-fashioned and having nothing to do.’

  She had shut her eyes as she spoke to her mother as if she was praying and, when she opened them again, she could see through the front door that there were men coming up the drive.

  As they drew nearer, she could see they were Farmer Robinson’s two sons who had returned from the war, one of them having received a leg wound, which made him limp.

  They were carrying the stranger on a gate and, as he was obviously very heavy, they were moving slowly.

  Mariota went to the window and watched them from behind one of the curtains which she noticed automatically had a torn lining and the brocade which had once been a deep crimson was now faded to a pale pink.

  It seemed to her that the two men took an immeasurable time to come up the slight incline towards the house where the weeds were sprouting through the gravel and the grass that had once been regularly mown had now turned itself from a lawn into a field.

  Then, as they reached the bottom of the steps that led up to the front door, she went to meet them.

  “What has happened?” she asked in a tone of well-simulated surprise.

  “Master Jeremy tells us to bring ’im ’ere, miss,” one of Farmer Robinson’s sons replied. “He ’ad a fall on the road and Master Jeremy’s gone to search for ’is ’orse.”

  Mariota looked down at the man on the gate and she could see now that there was an ugly mark on his temple where he had hit the stone and she thought also that his shoulder was hunched in a strange way.

  As if she had asked the question, the man said,

  “Master Jeremy thinks ’e’s broke ’is collarbone.”

  “Oh, dear!” Mariota exclaimed. “We shall have to send for Dr. Dawson. Do either of you know where he is likely to be?”

  They shook their heads and Mariota suggested,

  “We will find him later. Carry the gentleman carefully up the stairs and I will go ahead and show you which bedroom you can put him in.”

  She had already decided this while changing her clothes.

  When she had decided to shut up most of the house, she had thought it more convenient if they were as close to each other as possible.

  This meant that, as she would not have thought of turning her father out of the Master suite, the rest of them must sleep in the State rooms.

  She had therefore moved into her mother’s room, which was next to her father’s and Lynne was allocated the ‘Queen’s room’ where Queen Elizabeth had stayed when she came to the house.

  It was then that the Queen had decreed that it should be called ‘Queen’s Ford’ because the owner of the day had built a special bridge for Her Majesty over a stream that until then had always had to be forded to reach the village.

  The room next to the Queen’s room, which was known as the ‘King’s room’ because Charles II had stayed there after the Restoration, should have been Jeremy’s, but because the bed was carved with a profusion of cupids, crowns and doves, he had said it was far too fancy for him.

  He preferred a more austere room on the other side of the passage where he brought together all the sporting pictures of his ancestors to cover the walls, and added his own guns when Mariota was closing the gunroom.

  Now she led the way to the King’s room, but realised as she reached it, that it would be impossible for the men to carry the gate through the door.

  They were sweating from having carried their heavy load up the stairs and they then set the unconscious man down on the floor.

  As they did so, Lord Fordcombe came out of the Master suite with a book in his hand.

  He looked in astonishment at what was happening in the passage and asked,

  “Who is this? And why have you brought this man here?”

  “I was just going to tell you, Papa,” Mariota replied. “Jeremy found this stranger injured on the road, having fallen from his horse and he had him brought here for us to look after him until he regains consciousness.”

  “He has obviously hit his forehead,” Lord Fordcombe said, leaning over the prostrate man.

  “Master Jeremy thinks ’e’s also broke ’is collarbone, my Lord,” one of the men said.

  “Then we had better get him to bed,” Lord Fordcombe replied, “I will give you a hand. Will you, Mariota, tell Jacob to slip down to the village and find Dr. Dawson, unless Jeremy has already gone for him?”

  “Jeremy has gone in search of the stranger’s horse.”

  “Then you had better send Jacob, or better still, go yourself on Firefly. It will be quicker.”

  “Yes, of course, Papa.”

  Mariota hurried away down the corridor, thinking, as she did so, that her father had taken the situation very calmly and, as there were now three men to get the stranger into bed, she was not wanted.

  She was glad, being in such a hurry to take off Jeremy’s outgrown clothes, that she had not unsaddled Firefly, but had just put him in a stall knowing that there would be plenty of time to see to him later.

  She took him out into the yard, stood on a mounting-block and seated herself comfortably in the saddle being careful not to tear her gown.

  She and Lynne often rode without changing into a riding habit, but, as it was almost impossible for either of them ever to have new gowns, they took the greatest care with those they had, however old they might be.

  Because Firefly refused to hurry since he had already been out once that afternoon, it took her nearly a quarter
-of-an-hour to reach Dr. Dawson’s house and the same time to return.

  As she had expected, he was not at home, but Mrs. Dawson promised to give him a message the moment he returned.

  “Fancy your brother finding an injured man on one of our roads!” Mrs. Dawson exclaimed. “I wonder who he is? It’s not often we have such excitement around here.”

  “That’s true,” Mariota smiled, “and when we find out who he is, I will ask Dr. Dawson to tell you his name.”

  “I shall be curious,” Mrs. Dawson said. “He might be somebody going to stay with Lord Dudley or the Earl of Coventry or even the Duke of Madresfield. Does he look the type of person they would have as a guest?”

  “I think so,” Mariota answered, “but I only saw him for a moment before Papa sent me to find Dr. Dawson.”

  “Oh, well, we’ll know more later,” Mrs. Dawson said with relish. “My husband tells me nothing about his patients, so I’ll have to rely on you.”

  Mariota laughed and rode back to the house.

  As she put Firefly in his stall, she knew that Jeremy was back because in the next stall that they had not used for a long time was the most magnificent stallion she had ever seen.

  Jeremy had taken off the bridle and saddle, and the stallion’s black coat gleamed in the sunshine coming through the window.

  Mariota knew that he was a horse she would love to ride and wondered if it would be possible to do so.

  Then she told herself that, if anybody was going to exercise the stallion while its owner was ill, it would be Jeremy.

  Excited by what was happening, she ran to the house as quickly as she could.

  She found her father and Jeremy in the hall.

  “Is Dr. Dawson coming?” Lord Fordcombe asked.

  “I left a message for him, Papa. Mrs. Dawson thinks he will be home in about half-an-hour.”

  Before her father could reply, she said to Jeremy,

  “I see you found the stranger’s horse. The men told me you were looking for him.”

  “I caught him with some difficulty,” Jeremy replied, “and rode him home. It was easier to lead Rufus.”

  The way he spoke and the expression in his eyes told Mariota that it had been an exciting experience and something he had greatly enjoyed.

  Her father turned towards his study.

  “Come and tell me when Dr. Dawson arrives,” he said. “I have a lot of work to do and all these interruptions are very disturbing.”

  “I am sorry, Papa,” Mariota murmured.

  But she did not think her father heard her and when the study door closed she looked at Jeremy and saw that his eyes were twinkling.

  “Now we can count our ill-gotten gains,” he crowed. “Come on, Mariota!”

  He ran up the stairs two at a time and she hastily ran after him.

  When they were in his bedroom, although there was not the slightest chance of their being interrupted, he locked the door before he drew out of his pocket the wallet he had taken from the stranger’s coat, the coins that had been in his breeches pocket and a very pretty black handbag embroidered with white flowers.

  “Oh, Jeremy, you took the lady’s handbag!” Mariota exclaimed reproachfully.

  “I left her a diamond ring.”

  “That was generous of you!” she said a little sarcastically. “But why?”

  “She told me it was of great sentimental value and had been given to her by her husband who was now dead.”

  “Do you think she was telling you the truth?”

  “I am sure she was,” Jeremy replied, “and, when she said it, I not only believed her, I also felt sorry for her.”

  The way he spoke made Mariota bend forward to kiss his cheek.

  “I love you!” she said. “You are not as bad as you make yourself out to be.”

  Jeremy opened the wallet and both he and Mariota stared at it incredulously. There were two notes of one hundred pounds each and three of fifty pounds!

  Jeremy gave a low whistle as if it was the only way he could express his feelings.

  Then he emptied the contents of the lady’s black bag onto the bed and found three gold coins each of the value of five pounds and ten gold sovereigns.

  Mariota was past saying anything. She only stared and, when Jeremy had counted the sovereigns he had taken from the stranger’s pocket, he said in a voice that was more surprised than elated,

  “Three hundred and seventy-five pounds.”

  “I cannot believe it!” Mariota said. “Oh, Jeremy, I am sure you ought to give it back.”

  “And put a rope around my neck?” he asked. “Don’t be foolish, Mariota. I have no wish to die at the moment.”

  “No – of course not – but – ”

  “There are no ‘buts’ about it,” he said. “There is nothing we can do but keep what has happened a complete and utter secret between us two. But I will promise you one thing.”

  “What is that?”

  “It is something I shall never do again.”

  Because she felt so relieved, the tears came into Mariota’s eyes, but she had to ask,

  “Why – not?”

  “Because I know that I could not only have lost my own life, but put yours also at risk. As you were directly in the line of fire, you could easily have been killed.”

  There was an expression on Jeremy’s face that Mariota had never seen before as he added,

  “I realised when you fired at him and he fell off his horse the risks I had taken and what a fool I had been.”

  Because she was moved, the tears overflowed in Mariota’s eyes and she hastily wiped them away.

  “I am so – glad you have told me – that.”

  “I thought over what had happened when I was trying to find the stranger’s horse,” Jeremy went on, “and I think, Mariota, I grew up. I certainly realised that, if you had been killed, I would never have been able to hold up my head again.”

  “Oh, Jeremy – Jeremy!” Mariota cried in a broken little voice.

  Now because she knew that her brother hated tears and was embarrassed by them with great difficulty she forced a smile to her lips.

  “Well, at least,” she said, “you will now be able to have the clothes – you want, and go to – London.”

  “I will do that,” Jeremy said, “but not exactly for the same reasons which made me plan what I thought of as an adventure.”

  Mariota looked at him for an explanation and he said,

  “I tried to think out every detail of what we should do and how we should do it, but my arrangements have obviously been upset by having this injured man on our hands.”

  “I am sure Dr. Dawson will soon get him well.”

  “That is not the point,” Jeremy replied quickly. “It is quite obvious that he was related in some way to the lady in the carriage or was at any rate with her as an escort.”

  “I never thought of that!” Mariota exclaimed.

  “I have,” Jeremy said, “and, as it seems likely that he will be here for some days, she will doubtless come in search of him and the one person she must not see is me!”

  “You mean – she might – recognise you?” Mariota asked in dismay.

  She remembered, as she spoke, how she herself had thought because Jeremy was so tall, broad-shouldered and, even with a mask on his face, handsome, it would be difficult for anybody to forget him.

  As she grasped the whole point of what he was saying, she gave a little cry.

  “Of course you must go away at once!”

  “That is what I thought of doing,” he said, “and if, which is very unlikely, the stranger is still here when I come back, then by that time his wife or whoever the lady is, is very unlikely to connect me with a badly dressed, masked highwayman.”

  “Yes, of course. You are talking absolute sense,” Mariota agreed. “Within a week or so she will find it difficult to remember exactly what happened. At least it will not be so vivid in her mind.”

  “That is what I have reasoned out,”
Jeremy said, “so if you will forgive me, Mariota, for leaving you as usual to clear up the mess, I will set off for London first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Of course, dearest. I think it’s the right thing to do, but you must make some excuse to Papa.”

  Jeremy laughed.

  “I doubt if he will even notice I am not here and I think it would be best if you waited until he asks where I am before you tell him.”

  “All right,” Mariota agreed with a little sigh. “As you say, Papa may not even notice we are one fewer at meals!”

  Almost instinctively the thought of food made her look down at the shining sovereigns on the bed.

  “As soon as I reach London,” Jeremy said, “I am going to put this money in the bank as a fund which I shall draw on later as and when I want it. At the same time it would be a great mistake for anybody to think locally I am warm in the pocket.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I therefore think it would be wise,” Jeremy went on, “to give you just five pounds for the moment, but of course later on there will be much more.”

  “No!” Mariota said sharply. “No, I don’t want it! It’s very kind of you, dearest, but like you, I feel that the money is not worth the risk and I could never spend it without thinking of that terrible moment when I saw the man on horseback – pointing his gun at your back.”

  “You saved me and it was very clever and quick of you,” Jeremy said, “but you will just have to forget it.”

  “I will accept some money for food because that will help Papa and Lynne, but nothing else – nothing!”

  She spoke almost violently and, as if he thought it wiser not to argue, Jeremy said,

  “I will do exactly as you wish, but I should not let anybody know that you have any extra money. Be careful how you spend it in the village.”

  Mariota gave an unsteady little laugh.

  “They are so used to my having little more than six pence in my purse, they would certainly be very curious if they caught even a glint of gold!”

  “Then wait until you have run up a large bill and they will think it comes from Papa. Or else go into Malvern and change it. Here are five sovereigns to keep you going until I come back.”