Love Wins In Berlin

by Barbara Cartland

  When the Marquis arrived she would have to warn him.

  Although he might disbelieve her and perhaps make it impossible for her to stay with Karoline any longer, it was her duty.

  She sighed deeply because it was all rather frightening. As she turned from the window, the door opened and Karoline walked in.

  “Oh, there you are, Simona!” she exclaimed, “I have been looking for you everywhere. I have returned to find a very exciting invitation for both of us. We are asked to a dinner party tonight and there will be dancing afterwards. That will be exciting!”

  “Of course it will,” Simona agreed. “Did the dentist hurt you?”

  “Not very much and I am certainly well enough to go to the party,” Karoline laughed.

  She stretched out her hand and started to pull Simona towards the door.

  “Mama is waiting for us in the drawing room,” she said. “There are visitors for tea and they have brought with them a very attractive young man who I know you will enjoy meeting. He has already said he wants to meet you.”

  “That sounds interesting,” Simona answered.

  She raised her hands to tidy her hair.

  As she did so, she felt as if what had happened during the afternoon had just been a dream and now she had come back to reality.

  The reality of enjoying herself with Karoline and going to a dance which she knew would be thrilling.

  Especially as it would be the first dance she had been taken to in Berlin.

  ‘I do not believe that the Baron really means to spy on the Marquis,’ she tried to convince herself as they reached the drawing room.

  Then, as Karoline opened the door, she knew that once again she was only trying to evade the issue.

  At this moment the future seemed dark and rather menacing.

  CHAPTER TWO

  From his box at Aintree the Marquis of Midhurst was watching the Grand National horses taking the last fence.

  His horse Crusader was well up with the leaders. He was beginning to think he had a good chance of winning the race.

  Then, as the first five horses jumped the last fence without a fall, he was aware that Ilex was moving ahead.

  He knew all about Ilex, as when almost an unknown horse, he had won the Hunters Steeplechase, on which occasion he fortunately had not been running one of his own horses.

  Ilex had been ridden by Arthur Nightingall who the Marquis had marked in his mind as a particularly good jockey.

  Ilex, a chestnut, was not an engaging animal with no apparent neck or shoulders and an unusual amount of stomach.

  The Marquis had been told at the time of the Steeplechase that a friend of his had offered Nightingall five pounds not to ride. He was afraid the horse might fall and kill him.

  Five pounds, as the Marquis knew, was the sum Nightingall would receive for the ride, but as he had already committed himself, he declined the offer.

  To his immense surprise Ilex had given him an excellent ride. They had won the race in a canter, to the astonishment of the crowd.

  The Marquis had been considerably impressed.

  He had intended to make sure as soon as possible that Arthur Nightingall rode one of his own horses. He had however already engaged a jockey for the Grand National.

  He had expected Crusader to be the favourite, but when he arrived at the course he found that Ilex was running, once again ridden by Nightingall and was the most favoured in the betting.

  Now, as the horses all quickened their pace, the crowd held their breath.

  The Marquis saw Ilex move ahead of Crusader and another horse to pass the winning post a clear length ahead.

  He was disappointed, but equally he was too much of a sportsman not to realise that the combination of Ilex and Nightingall had produced an outstanding performance.

  He descended from his box to see his own horse come in and to congratulate George Masterman, the owner of Ilex.

  “I have been very fortunate, my Lord,” Mr. Masterman said as the Marquis shook his hand. “I am afraid that you must be disappointed.”

  “I had my hopes for a few moments,” the Marquis admitted, “but I am quite content to agree that the best horse won.” He walked away.

  Because he was so well-known on the race course and greatly admired, a number of people shouted out,

  “Bad luck, my Lord! Sorry yer lost yer money!”

  The Marquis waved his hand in reply and decided, now that the Grand National was over, he should leave.

  He wanted to return to London by an early train because he intended to go abroad the following day.

  He was on a special mission which would take him to Berlin.

  He was also anxious to get away from Lady Sybil Graham.

  The Marquis was noted for his many affaires-de-coeur. At the same time he was, unlike many of his contemporaries, very discreet about them.

  When he grew bored with a beautiful woman, as regularly happened, he invariably closed the affair at once. He achieved this by disappearing abroad for a short time.

  Alternatively, if the time of year was right, he would travel to Scotland for the grouse shooting and salmon fishing.

  He had been aware for the last few weeks that he was beginning to find the beautiful Lady Sybil was becoming a bore. He knew what she was going to say before she said it.

  He found that if he was not paying her compliments, she was not listening to him.

  If there was one thing he found impossible, it was to continue making love to a woman, when if he was honest with himself, he was no longer interested in her.

  There had been quite a number of famous beauties who had asked themselves tearfully where they had failed with him.

  Few knew the story behind the Marquis’s determination to remain a bachelor. His family begged him over and over again to marry so that he could produce an heir.

  He was extremely rich with a magnificent ancestral country house which had been in his family for generations. Also he was certainly one of the most handsome men in London.

  He was therefore undoubtedly the greatest matrimonial catch in the whole of the Beau Monde.

  “Why, oh, why,” ambitious mothers with beautiful debutante daughters asked, “does Irvin Midhurst refuse to be married?”

  It was a great relief to the Marquis that very few people knew the truth. In fact he seldom thought about what had happened to him and how events had so emphatically put him off choosing his bride.

  He had not quite turned twenty-one when his father, the third Marquis, had begun to talk to him about taking a bride.

  He frequently discussed with him the girls he considered the most suitable because of their ancestry and their family trees.

  Irvin had worked hard at Oxford and was about to take a commission in the family regiment. He had no wish to do anything but enjoy himself at the balls to which he was invited every night.

  He was a member of White’s Club in St. James’s, which he found extremely enjoyable.

  He had received the gift of three horses from his father’s racing stables on his twentieth birthday.

  He rode with the finest hunts in Leicestershire, and received invitations to all the best shoots both in England and Scotland.

  Irvin was very fond of his father.

  He also disliked altercations and rows of any description.

  Therefore he did not, as he realised later, protest firmly enough that he wished to remain a bachelor for a few more years.

  Almost before he was aware of it, his father had arranged his marriage. It was to the daughter of one of his closest friends, the Duke of Cumbria.

  Somewhat apprehensively Irvin was introduced to his future wife, who was very young and undoubtedly very pretty.

  He could do nothing but agree with his father that she would look beautiful in the Midhurst diamonds, which were always greatly admired by every woman at the opening of Parliament, or any State occasion at Buckingham Palace or Windsor Castle.

  Irvin therefore dutifully asked El
izabeth if she would honour him by becoming his wife. When she accepted, the whole family rejoiced that he had done the right thing.

  Irvin’s father and the Duke congratulated themselves on having brought off a coup that met with everyone’s approval. Their engagement was celebrated with quite a number of bottles of champagne.

  Irvin was busy settling down in his regiment.

  He was therefore unable to pay much attention to Lady Elizabeth in the forthcoming weeks.

  It was decided that the announcement should appear in the newspapers at the very beginning of the Season.

  No one would want to miss the wedding, which was to would take place after both father and son had seen their horses race at Royal Ascot.

  Because nobody seemed to worry much about his opinion, Irvin reluctantly accepted what had been arranged for him.

  Two days before the engagement was due to appear in the newspapers, the bombshell burst.

  Elizabeth had run away with her father’s racehorse manager!

  At first the Duke could not believe what had happened. The future bridegroom was as stunned as everyone else. It had never struck Irvin that Elizabeth might not be as delighted at the idea of marrying him as he might have expected her to be.

  He was well aware that many people, when they found out about his predicament would laugh at him. They would be only too delighted that he had been ‘taken down a peg or two’, as they would put it.

  Irvin was not so stupid as not to realise that a number of his friends were jealous of him. These included gentlemen who had studied with him at Oxford and in his regiment. Of course they did not have his money, nor could they afford to own racehorses.

  Moreover, because he was so handsome and important socially, the most attractive girls ran after him quite shamelessly.

  That Elizabeth had run away had not troubled Irvin’s heart. He had not really been in love with her.

  But she had hurt his pride and his self-esteem. Incredibly she had preferred a hired employee of her father’s.

  The Duke raged and the Duchess cried, but Elizabeth was married at Gretna Green. There was nothing they could do to prevent it.

  Fortunately, from Irvin’s point of view, her family wished to hush everything up. The Duke told everyone that Elizabeth was not well. Their doctor had advised that she should travel abroad for treatment at one of the French spas.

  Irvin was well aware that he had got off the hook lightly.

  At the same time he vowed that never again would he be pushed into marriage. Nor would he marry until he was very much older.

  In fact, he told himself, not until it was absolutely essential that before he died he should produce a son and heir.

  He refused all the balls given for young ladies. Instead he concentrated on pursuing, or perhaps it would be truer to say on allowing himself to be pursued by beautiful married women.

  It was these affaires-de-coeur that taught him a great deal about what was called ‘love’.

  Yet as he grew older he regarded love with a somewhat cynical amusement.

  The Prince of Wales had made it acceptable for a gentleman to indulge in an affair with a lady of his own class.

  When His Royal Highness became interested in ‘the Jersey Lily’, as Lily Langtry was called, Society held its breath.

  The Prince made no effort to keep his obsession a secret.

  He refused to creep up dark corridors and visit the object of his affections secretly.

  He introduced Lily Langtry to his friends and to the public. At first they could hardly believe what was occurring. But the Prince made it clear that, if he was to be guest at a party, Mrs. Langtry should also be invited.

  A great number of gentlemen now realised they too could openly enjoy themselves.

  For the first time there was no risk of being ostracised by grand Society hostesses or facing a duel with an outraged husband.

  It made social life so much easier.

  There were few aged Dowagers who were prepared to openly criticise the behaviour of the Prince of Wales.

  When the Prince arranged that Lily Langtry and her husband should be presented to his mother, Queen Victoria, at Windsor Castle, Society could only gasp.

  Just a few critics muttered beneath their breath that they did not know what the world was coming to.

  Knowing that he was now bored with Lady Sybil had given the Marquis an inducement to go abroad. Actually he had another reason for doing so.

  The Prime Minister, the Marquis of Salisbury, who was also the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, had begged him to visit Berlin. He was suspicious that the Germans had spirited away a man who was of great importance to the Royal Navy and incidentally to the Prince of Wales as well.

  The Prince had been irritated for many years by the behaviour of his nephew William, who had now become Kaiser Wilhelm II and was becoming even more of a nuisance.

  In the past he had made insulting remarks about his uncle, calling him ‘an old peacock’, and referring to his grandmother Queen Victoria as ‘an old hag’.

  Now he was a menace in a different way.

  The Prime Minister had been considerably perturbed when he heard that the young Kaiser had learnt by heart the statistics of all the modern ships in the Royal Navy.

  He had acquired this knowledge to impress any British Admiral with whom he might find himself in conversation.

  There were now quite a number of statesmen who feared that in the future Germany and the Kaiser might become even more envious of the power and influence of the British Empire.

  Last year there had been a scene in Vienna when the Prince of Wales had been treated extremely rudely by his nephew.

  This year the Kaiser had visited England and he now seemed so determined to make himself pleasant that observers believed that uncle and nephew were getting along perfectly well together.

  The Kaiser had been delighted to be made an Honorary Admiral of the Fleet and he had already been made a member of the Royal Yacht Squadron.

  The Kaiser was intending not only to shine at Cowes as a brilliant yachtsman, but to challenge the Prince of Wales, who was known as the ‘Boss’ of Cowes.

  The Kaiser was also excessively inquisitive about the British warships.

  The Marquis had always been receptive to new ideas and was particularly interested in naval armaments.

  It was then he had been struck by a new and brilliant idea.

  He had conceived the design of a gun which was different from anything so far invented.

  It would be faster firing, more accurate and easier to handle than anything at present in use on British ships of war.

  He had explained his concept to the Prince of Wales, who was delighted.

  The Prince himself was extremely keen on yacht racing, and his own cutter, the Britannia, had won many important races. Indeed in his own estimation it was the best racing yacht afloat.

  The Kaiser was determined to challenge the supremacy of the Britannia and had boasted that he would do so.

  He had also announced bombastically that he intended using Cowes as a showplace for the latest warships in the German Navy.

  “What has he got that we haven’t?” the Prince of Wales had enquired sharply. The Marquis’s answer to the question was exactly what His Royal Highness wanted to hear.

  For some years the Marquis had known a man called Paul Watson, who was skilled in repairing his shotguns and the equipment aboard his yacht.

  He had found Watson extremely intelligent with very different ideas from those of ordinary gunsmiths and he had entrusted him with many alterations and improvements to his yacht.

  He told him what he had in mind for his naval gun. Watson was delighted and was able to contribute the sort of collaboration that the Marquis required.

  They had worked out several designs together.

  Just when they had agreed that they could make no further improvements and were ready to start manufacturing the gun, Watson disappeared.

 
He was a man approaching forty, unmarried and without any family to tie him down.

  One day he was there and the next he was gone.

  The Marquis found it hard to believe that he could not be found anywhere.

  It suddenly occurred to him that the Kaiser might have heard that he was working on something unusual. This information could have reached him from his spies of whom there were quite a number in London.

  Furthermore the Marquis could not entirely trust the Prince of Wales not to talk too much as he was so delighted with the Marquis’s invention that he might have told his latest love all about it.

  In the Marquis’s estimation a woman could never be trusted with a secret.

  The Prince of Wales had by this time become bored with Lily Langtry. Their liaison, which had caused such a sensation, had come to an end.

  He had in fact fallen deeply in love with her. Love was something he had not felt for any woman since he had first fallen for his bride, Princess Alexandra of Denmark.

  It was Queen Victoria who had wisely decided that her hot-blooded son must choose a wife.

  But it was essential that she should be really beautiful. This necessity had not occurred to anyone else.

  The Queen had turned down all the available Princesses in Europe until she came to Alexandra of Denmark, who was not likely to have been chosen in other respects, but she was recognised to be the most beautiful Princess of her time.

  There was no doubt that Bertie had thought so too as he fell head over heels in love with Alexandra immediately on her arrival in England.

  They were exceedingly happy together and she gave him five children before she was twenty-six.

  Surprisingly, when the Prince, with his roving eye began to look elsewhere, she did not create a scene. She always supported and loved him in her own way, however unfaithful he was to her.

  For his part he invariably treated her with the greatest respect and affection but was furious if anyone else did not do the same.

  But his eye often looked in other directions, which was in many ways understandable.

  His mother, the Queen, would not allow him to take any part in political affairs and kept everything possible secret from him.

  Somehow he had to fill his days and nights.