“Thank God, Perry, that you came in when you did!”
“I thought perhaps you might be in trouble, old boy, when I saw Zuleika was not with the others in the salon.”
He paused before he asked a little tentatively, because he knew his friend’s dislike of any interference in his private affairs,
“Was she actually proposing to you?”
Lord Locke nodded and then he said angrily,
“How the hell have I managed to get myself into such a position? I can hardly spend the rest of my life going round the world to avoid her.”
“No, of course not,” Perry agreed sympathetically. “All the same it would be a mistake to have a scene with all our friends here. You know how Charlie for one would chatter and Tony for another.”
Lord Locke groaned.
Before he could speak, however, the door opened and the butler said,
“Miss Sullivan asks, my Lord, if you could see her as soon as possible, as she is eager to return home.”
“So there really was someone wishing to see me!” Lord Locke asked his friend.
“I told you so,” Perry replied, “and actually it was as good an excuse as any other.”
Then Lord Locke said reflectively to the butler,
“Surely, Bates, you don’t mean a relative of Sir Robert?”
“His granddaughter, my Lord.”
“Here? Calling on me?” Lord Locke ejaculated. “Wonders will never cease! Show her in, Bates. I am full of curiosity as to why Miss Sullivan should be here.”
There was now a faint smile on the old butler’s lips.
He was well aware of the feud that had existed between the two big landowners ever since he had been in service.
When he went from the study, Lord Locke said,
“I had always understood ever since I was a child that the name of Sullivan must never pass my lips and their footsteps should never encroach upon our land.”
“If she is going to complain about the much contested wood, I am going to leave you,” Perry asserted. “I can remember when I was a schoolboy your father ranting on about it.”
He laughed before he said,
“I thought then that any man with an atom of sense could have divided it down the middle and accepted that as the reasonable solution.”
Lord Locke laughed.
“I am sure that nothing so simple would ever have occurred to my father. He was determined to win the contest and so was ‘Old Groaner’ as we used to call Sir Robert!”
Perry laughed and then he walked to the door.
“I wish you luck with the Old Groaner’s granddaughter, but be careful. She might prove to be as dangerous as Zuleika!”
He did not wait for a reply, but walked away.
Two minutes later the door opened and Bates announced,
“Miss Gytha Sullivan, my Lord.”
Lord Locke had somehow expected that Sir Robert’s granddaughter would be a hearty horsy woman of uncertain age.
To his surprise the young girl who came into the room was small and slight.
She was wearing a dark riding habit that threw into prominence, under her riding hat, the gold of her hair.
She had a small heart-shaped face with huge grey eyes and surprisingly they were encircled by much darker lashes that turned up like a child’s.
It gave her a very young and appealing expression.
As she walked towards Lord Locke, he thought that her eyes held an expression of shyness in their depths. Then it struck him that it might be one of fear.
He held out his hand, saying,
“This is a great surprise, Miss Sullivan, and I must, of course, welcome you for the first time to Locke Hall.”
“It is just as – magnificent as I thought it would be,” Gytha said in a soft little voice. “Thank you – for seeing me.”
“I am delighted,” Lord Locke replied, “if it means that the ridiculous feud which has raged between our two families for over thirty years has come to an end.”
“I am afraid I cannot speak on behalf of my grandfather – who does not know I am here,” Gytha replied, “but where I am concerned – I have always – wanted to meet you.”
Lord Locke smiled and she added,
“But first I must congratulate you on winning – a magnificent steeplechase.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Are you telling me you saw it?”
She nodded and there was a hint of mischief in her eyes as she said,
“I watched it, as I have watched your steeplechases in the past, from the rise.”
Lord Locke knew that this was just in front of the much contested wood and he therefore laughed.
“So you were asserting your rights to it!” he said with mock severity.
“The only thing I was interested in,” Gytha replied, “was in watching your horse – which was utterly and completely – magnificent!”
She wanted to add that so was his rider.
She was aware, now that she was actually talking to Lord Locke, that he was more attractive than she had thought he would be.
She had never seen him without a hat and she liked the way that his hair grew back from his square forehead, while his eyebrows were strongly marked over his eyes.
He certainly looked like a buccaneer or a pirate.
At the same time no one could take him for anything but an aristocrat.
“Will you sit down?” he suggested.
Gytha seated herself on a sofa at the side of the fireplace and there was silence.
She looked up and felt her heart beating frantically in her breast as she wondered if she dared tell him what was in her mind.
Then, as if Lord Locke were perceptively aware of her difficulty, he said,
“I am waiting with the greatest curiosity to know why you have come to see me, but first let me offer you some refreshment, a glass of champagne perhaps?”
Gytha shook her head.
“No – no! I want nothing – except to tell you – why I have come.”
She looked away from him as she spoke and he was aware now that she was very shy.
She had taken off her gloves as she sat down and then she began twisting her fingers together.
“I cannot imagine what is worrying you,” Lord Locke said quietly, “unless, of course, it is once again the question of that wood.”
“It’s not that,” Gytha replied. “It is something that concerns – myself alone – in fact I have – come to ask your Lordship for – your help.”
“Of course I am only too willing to give it, if it is at all possible.”
“I am afraid when you hear what I am asking – you will think it very – very strange.”
“Shall I say I am willing to listen and to try to understand what it is that you require of me?”
Because he thought that he might seem less intimidating, Lord Locke seated himself in an armchair close to the sofa.
Then, as he realised how shy Gytha was, he said,
“I am really eager to help you.”
He spoke in a voice that few women could resist and Gytha gave him a broad smile before she said,
“I learnt only today from my father’s batman, my Lord, that Papa – saved your life when you – first joined the Regiment.”
“Of course he did,” Lord Locke agreed, “and I have always been very grateful to him for his bravery.”
He paused before he went on,
“And may I tell you what a brilliant Commander your father was. I was very proud, as we all were, to serve under him.”
He saw that Gytha was listening intently and he continued,
“I was not with him when he was killed at the Battle of Waterloo, as I had been posted to another Battalion. Although I could not write to tell your family so, I was extremely sorry to hear, after the battle was over, that he had not survived.”
“It was when Papa went to the War that my mother and I went to – live with my – grandfather in Sullivan Hall.”
Lord Locke did not speak and she went on,
“Mama died – and as Grandpapa is very old – I have been alone with him this – past year and seen nobody except occasionally – when I have been out hunting.”
She wanted Lord Locke to know how very restricted her life had been.
She thought that he had understood before she went on,
“A few weeks ago the doctors told – me that my grandfather – cannot live for more than two or – at the outside three months.”
“I am sorry to hear that news,” Lord Locke replied conventionally.
“I think in a way,” Gytha said, “it will be a relief for him, because he is often in pain and it makes him – very disagreeable. But he is – as I expect you will know – a very rich man.”
“That is what I have always heard,” Lord Locke replied.
He was now wondering what this had to do with him.
“Grandpapa has – decided,” Gytha continued, “that I am to be his – heir.”
She said the words in a dull voice that was almost one of despair.
Lord Locke looked puzzled before he murmured,
“I must, of course, congratulate you.”
“It is not – something I want,” Gytha responded. “In fact I would much rather Grandpapa had left me – just enough to live on – but unfortunately he has made up his – mind and nothing I can say has – any effect.”
Lord Locke was wondering what he should say to this.
Then Gytha, twisting her fingers together once again, added,
“I have always been told, my Lord, that you have – sworn that you will – never marry.”
“That is true,” Lord Locke said. “I have no intention of marrying and, as I am not yet thirty, it will be many years before it is necessary for me to have an heir.”
He smiled at her before he continued,
“At the same time I can see that it could be very difficult for you to decide to take up the same attitude, if that is what you wish.”
He could not imagine where this conversation might be leading.
But because Gytha was so distressed and, he thought, rather pathetic, he was trying to do his best.
“Grandpapa has insisted,” Gytha explained haltingly, “that I must marry – one of his nephews, either Vincent or Jonathan Sullivan and I – detest them – both.”
She made a sound that was almost a sob.
“Whatever I say – because I am only eighteen – and Grandpapa is my Guardian – I shall be – forced to do so. There is no way that I can – prevent it – unless you will – help me.”
She did not wait for Lord Locke to say anything but went on,
“I-I thought, my Lord – if you were really grateful to my father for saving your life – you might feel that it was a – debt of honour – and you would – therefore not refuse to do what I am – asking.”
“What are you asking?” Lord Locke enquired.
Gytha took a deep breath.
“That – that you will – become – engaged to – me.”
Chapter three
Lord Locke stiffened and, as he stared at Gytha in sheer astonishment, she said quickly,
“It would be an – engagement only until Grandpapa – dies and then, of course – it will be – cancelled.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If I am – engaged to – you,” Gytha replied, “then I cannot be forced into – marriage with – one of my cousins.”
“Are you really sure that your grandfather will insist on a marriage that you have no inclination for?”
“I have already tried to – persuade him that it is something I – cannot do and he merely – flew into a rage and told me, as my Guardian, that I had to – obey him.”
Gytha drew a deep breath and then said hesitatingly,
“I believe that is the – law and, because they want Grandpapa’s – money, my cousins will be only – too willing to marry me.”
Lord Locke did not speak and after a moment she went on in a frightened voice,
“In the past Vincent always – appeared to dislike me and treated me with – contempt and Jonathan is even more – unpleasant and he has – wet flabby hands!”
She shivered as she spoke.
And Lord Locke knew that she was thinking she could not bear such a man to touch her.
What she was asking was, of course, impossible!
He rose to his feet and walked across the room to stand at the window gazing out onto the sunlit garden.
He was wondering how he could explain nicely to this impulsive girl that what she was asking was really quite ridiculous.
Then, as he stood there staring out at the trees turning to autumn hues, he heard a sound.
Turning round he saw that Gytha had reached the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked sharply.
She stood still as he spoke.
There was something about her that reminded him of a schoolgirl who had been caught out doing something wrong.
“It was a mistake to – come here,” she said after a moment. “But I was so – desperate and when I – learnt that my father had – saved your life I thought perhaps – you would understand.”
Her words seemed to fall over each other and Lord Locke said,
“Come and sit down again and let’s see if we can find a solution to your problem.”
He paused a moment before continuing,
“I would not want you to think that I am ungrateful in any way for having been able to live for very much longer than the French intended.”
He smiled at her as he spoke in a manner that most women found irresistible.
Gytha did not move.
“I think – perhaps I should go – home,” she stammered.
Lord Locke was trying to think of some way of assisting her.
It was then he realised that this could be his answer to Princess Zuleika.
He was so astonished at what Gytha had asked of him and so bewildered by her problem that he had for a moment forgotten his own problems.
Now it was almost as if he could see the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle falling into place.
He realised that this would make it impossible for Zuleika to behave in such an outrageous manner.
And anyway in two months she might easily have transferred her affections elsewhere.
“Come and sit down,” he said.
There was an authoritative note in his voice that made Gytha obey him.
But he was also aware that she moved warily and she was almost like a small animal that was afraid of being trapped.
Once again she sat down on the edge of the sofa and raised her worried eyes to his.
Lord Locke thought that she was in fact one of the prettiest young women he had seen for a long time.
He did not sit down and once again he went to stand with his back to the fireplace as he said,
“Now let’s talk this out together sensibly. Your grandfather is determined to make you his heir, but he insists that you marry one of your cousins because he is afraid of fortune-hunters.”
He paused and after a moment Gytha said hesitantly,
“That is what – frightens him, but he – could not think – that is what – you are.”
“That is true,” Lord Locke agreed, “but, because my family has been at daggers drawn with yours for so many years, he may well refuse to countenance such a marriage.”
“I thought of – that when I was coming – here,” Gytha went on, “but I have a – feeling, although I may be wrong – that Grandpapa was – interested in the stories he heard of your – bravery and of the – medals you have won for – gallantry.”
Her voice was very moving as she added,
“He was so – proud of Papa and I have always – thought that he – despised Vincent and Jonathan for not – fighting in the War.”
“I see your reasoning,” Lord Locke said, “but I can hardly expect him to welcome me with open arms. Perhaps
, however, he might consent to a secret engagement if nothing else, which would at least give us time.”
Almost as if he had asked the question, Gytha replied,
“The doctors were very – insistent that Grandpapa cannot – live for very much more than – two months, if as – long as that.”
There was silence and then she carried on,
“But I know now, my Lord – that it was most impertinent of me to come – to you.”
“I think actually it was very sensible,” Lord Locke answered, “and I certainly owe your father a debt that can never be repaid in full.”
“Perhaps it was – wrong of me to – remind you of it.”
“No, it was right, absolutely right,” Lord Locke said firmly, “and that is why, Miss Sullivan, I am prepared to do as you ask me, on condition, of course, that our engagement ends after your grandfather is no longer with us.”
Gytha clasped her hands together as she whispered,
“Do you – mean it? Do you – really mean it?”
“I mean it,” Lord Locke affirmed, “and I think that you have handled the situation so intelligently that you must suggest to me exactly how I should make an approach to your grandfather.”
“First I want to – thank you,” Gytha whispered. “I was thinking – that if you – refused, as in fact I expected you would, I would have to – kill myself rather than marry – anyone as horrible as either of my – awful cousins.”
“You must not talk like that,” Lord Locke exclaimed. “You are young, you are lovely and you have, I am quite sure, a delightful and very interesting life ahead of you.”
He smiled before he continued,
“This is only the first fence and there will doubtless be a great number of others.”
Gytha gave him a shy little smile before she said,
“If I can take the fences as your horse took those in your steeplechase this afternoon – I shall have no more – worries.”
“I can only hope that is true,” Lord Locke replied, “and now Miss Sullivan – or perhaps I should call you by your Christian name as we are supposed to be engaged – what do you want me to do?”
“I thought – as my cousins are – arriving tomorrow,” Gytha replied, “it is – important for you to meet Grandpapa – this evening rather than early tomorrow morning, when usually he is not at his best.”
Forced to Marry Page 4