The Disgraceful Duke

by Barbara Cartland

  The Duke spoke almost harshly.

  “Would you – feel that about any – actress he had married?” Shimona enquired.

  “If he had married someone like you, I should have been delighted, as obviously The McCraig is, that he had found anyone so exceptional.”

  “But at the same time you think that a man should not – marry out of his own – position in life.”

  There was a pause before the Duke answered,

  “I will not insult your intelligence by denying that I think marriage should be between two people who are born equally.”

  “Then what you are saying is that it is what a man is, rather than what he does, that counts?” Shimon argued.

  The Duke drove on a little way before he replied,

  “You are pushing me into a corner from which I find it difficult to extricate myself. What you are really asking is this, if a gentleman, like Beau Bardsley, and a lady, such as you obviously are, are on the stage, is that of more importance than the class they were born into?”

  “Yes,” Shimona said in a low voice. “That is what I am – trying to say.”

  “It depends on what they want of life,” the Duke answered. “If they are content with the plaudits of the crowd, if they want professional success and fame, then the fact that they are not accepted as the equal of those who consider themselves of social importance cannot be of any consequence to them.”

  Shimona did not reply and then he said,

  “I have a feeling, however, it would always be of consequence to a woman.”

  He turned to look at her before he added,

  “I have already asked you if there is not something more worthwhile and more suitable you can do than to be an actress.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The gentlemen came into the salon where Shimona was once again looking at the objets d’art.

  She turned with a smile and The McCraig said,

  “Come here, Katherine. I want to speak to you and Alister.”

  He spoke seriously and Shimona gave the Duke a little worried glance before obediently she followed the old man to the hearthrug.

  He stood with his back to the fire and, as Shimona and Alister joined him, he said,

  “I understand that the Duke has been kind enough to accommodate you here in his house while you look for one of your own. I am sure you appreciate his generosity. At the same time I know that it is important for you both to have a home.”

  He paused and Shimona wondered what he was going to say.

  “I have thought it over,” he continued, “and I realise that Alister cannot afford at the moment to buy a house that would be a proper background for his wife and in the future for a family.”

  Shimona saw that Alister was listening intently and there was a faint smile on his lips as if he anticipated what was to come.

  “I have therefore decided,” The McCraig went on, “that, when I return to Scotland, I will settle a sum of money on my great-nephew that will enable him to live comfortably as befits his station in life and, when I die, he will be my heir.”

  His voice ceased and for a moment there was a silence that seemed more impressive than words.

  Then Alister exclaimed,

  “That is exceedingly generous of you, sir. I am more grateful than I can possibly say.”

  “I don’t mind telling you, my boy,” The McCraig replied, “that, when I came South, I was somewhat anxious as to what sort of wife you had chosen. However, although Katherine regrettably is connected with the stage, she is everything I would have wished for the wife of the future Chieftain of the Clan.”

  He looked at Shimona as he spoke.

  “Thank – you, sir,” she murmured.

  She wished that she did not feel so guilty and that they had not been obliged to deceive this fine old gentleman. She thought also how horrifying it would be if he ever found out the deception that had been practised upon him.

  Because she felt guilty, Shimona moved forward impulsively and kissed The McCraig on the cheek.

  “Thank you for making Alister happy,” she said.

  She knew that The McCraig was pleased at her gesture.

  Then, as if he suspected them of being over-emotional, he said almost harshly,

  “I am now going to say goodbye, Katherine, as I shall not expect to see you in the morning.”

  Shimona looked surprised and he explained,

  “I am leaving very early as I have been invited to stay the first night of my journey North with the Earl of Glencairn near Leicester. He is an old friend of mine and I have promised to be his guest.”

  He looked at the Duke as he said,

  “I hope, Ravenstone, it will not be inconvenient for me to leave at seven o’clock?”

  “It is not in the least inconvenient,” the Duke replied. “But are you certain it will not be too long a day for you?”

  “I am used to rising early,” The McCraig replied, “and, as I wish to dine with the Earl, the sooner I am on the road the better.”

  He held out his hand to Shimona.

  “Goodbye, my dear. I hope it will not be too long before I may entertain you at Craig Castle and that many relatives of your husband may have the pleasure of meeting you.”

  “I shall look forward to it,” Shimona answered as she curtseyed.

  “I shall doubtless see you in the morning, Alister,” The McCraig said to his great-nephew.

  “Of course, sir.”

  This time they all escorted The McCraig to the foot of the stairs. He walked up without the aid of the banisters and Shimona thought it was easy to think of him as a King in the Highlands.

  As soon as he was out of earshot, Alister said,

  “I must go back to Kitty. If I am to be back here by six o’clock tomorrow morning, the sooner I am asleep the better!”

  The Duke did not reply and Shimona had the idea that he despised Alister for thinking it a hardship that he must rise early.

  Although she felt that she also should say goodnight, she walked back towards the salon and, when the Duke followed her, the door was closed behind them.

  She went to the fireplace and he moved slowly across the room towards her, looking as he did so at her face bent towards the flames and the light from them shining on her fair hair.

  “It is entirely due to you,” he said, “that the campaign to improve Alister’s finances has been overwhelmingly successful!”

  There was a note in his voice that did not make it sound as complimentary as the actual words.

  “I feel – ashamed,” Shimona murmured. “The McCraig is so magnificent and so honest and straightforward that I am sure it is – wrong of us to deceive him.”

  “We have discussed this already,” the Duke replied. “There was no other way that he could be persuaded to make Alister his heir.”

  “Do you think when the time – comes that Alister McCraig will make a good – Chieftain?” Shimona asked in a low voice.

  “Does it really concern you one way or the other?” the Duke enquired.

  Shimona was silent.

  Then she said,

  “Perhaps it sounds impertinent, but, because I have been involved, I do mind. I would not want the members of the Clan to be disappointed or disillusioned.”

  “I have a feeling,” the Duke said, “that Alister has learnt a great deal from associating with you these last two days. He may in future insist on his wife behaving as she should do.”

  “A wise man once said that, when a stone is thrown into a pond – the disturbance from it goes on rippling out and one has no idea where the consequences will end,” Shimona said in a low voice.

  “That is true,” the Duke replied. “But the consequences that you have evoked can only be good.”

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “I am sure because of your intrinsic goodness.”

  Shimona looked at the Duke in surprise.

  Then, as their eyes met, she felt once again that strange magnetism that he
ld her spellbound and made her feel almost as if he was drawing her towards him.

  She made a little movement as if she would break the spell and the Duke said,

  “I want to talk to you, Shimona. Please sit down.”

  His voice was very serious. Her eyes widened and there was a questioning look in them before she obeyed him.

  “First of all,” he began. “I want to give you the money that was promised to you and which you have earned so brilliantly.”

  He took a sealed envelope from the table as he spoke and held it out to her.

  Shimona took it automatically, but as she did so she wished that she could refuse it.

  Then she remembered that her father’s life depended upon it and, with a little murmur of thanks, she laid it beside her on the sofa.

  “I felt you would wish the money to be paid in notes,” the Duke said. “They are of a large denomination that can easily be changed.”

  Shimona did not speak and he went on,

  “I would have preferred to pay it into a bank for you. It could be dangerous for you to carry so much money about.”

  His words gave Shimona an idea.

  “I have a message for Your Grace from Mr. Bardsley.”

  “A message?” the Duke enquired.

  “He asked,” Shimona continued, “if you would pay the money you owe him directly into his bank.”

  The Duke smiled.

  “That is extremely sensible. If I gave Beau Bardsley notes, I am quite certain that he would have given them all away long before he left the theatre. Have you any idea of the name of his bank?”

  “Yes – he told me it was Coutts.”

  “The money will be paid in tomorrow morning,” the Duke said. “I gather you know Beau Bardsley well?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you asked his advice about going on the stage?”

  “N-no.”

  “Then I am sure he would advise you against it as I do,” the Duke said.

  There was a pause, before he went on,

  “Tell me something, Shimona, and I want the truth. Have you as yet played a part in the theatre?”

  She looked up at him and somehow it was impossible to lie.

  “Not – yet.”

  “That is what I suspected,” the Duke replied. “Now listen to me. Whatever you may feel about the glamour and lure of the theatre, you are wrong – completely and absolutely wrong!”

  “Why should – you say that?” Shimona asked.

  “Because I know the theatrical world,” the Duke answered, “and while some women, although very few, can reach the top of their profession simply through their talent, for the rest it is a very different story.”

  Shimona knew what he was trying to say, but because she was embarrassed, she could only look into the fire.

  “I don’t believe for a moment,” the Duke went on, “that you could cope with the sordid intrigue that is necessary for an actress to obtain a part she wants or even to get a hearing, without someone to fight her battles for her. Do you understand?”

  “Y-yes – I understand,” Shimona said in a low voice.

  “Then give up this absurd idea,” the Duke insisted.

  Shimona rose to her feet.

  “I think, Your Grace, there is nothing to be gained by discussing it.”

  “I have not finished all I wish to say.”

  Shimona looked irresolute.

  Because she could not give the Duke the answers he wanted, she wished to run away.

  On the other hand she did not want to leave him, knowing that this was their last time together and after tomorrow she would never see him again.

  “You will tell me nothing about yourself,” he went on, “but I am sure that the reason you wish to go on the stage is because you need the money.”

  She knew that he was feeling for words before he went on,

  “What I am about to suggest may sound strange, but I want to help. I want to do what is best for you.”

  “Please – Your Grace – don’t say any more.”

  “I must,” he answered. “I want to offer you, Shimona, enough money so that you can be independent.”

  Shimona drew her breath and now she was looking at him.

  “I swear to you,” the Duke said, “that I will ask nothing in return except what you wish to give me. There are no conditions attached to my offer – none whatsoever!”

  He spoke impressively and, even as the words of refusal came to Shimona’s lips, he said,

  “I think you know that there is a great deal more I could say to you – a great deal I want to say. But I promised Beau Bardsley when he sent you here that you would leave my house as pure as when you came into it.”

  Shimona’s eyes flickered before his and the colour rose in her cheeks.

  “I have kept my promise,” the Duke said, “but you will never know how difficult it has been and how much I have wanted to make love to you and to tell you that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my whole life!”

  “It – it is – n-not – t-true,” Shimona stammered a little incoherently.

  “It is true, absolutely true!” the Duke said, “but I gave that promise and I will not break it. So there is only one thing I can ask you, when may I see you again?”

  Shimona drew in her breath.

  “Never! We shall never – meet again!”

  “Do you really mean that?”

  “It is – impossible. I cannot – explain – but it is impossible!”

  “And you will not accept my offer of independence?”

  Shimona shook her head.

  “No, Your Grace. I know you mean it kindly, but you have given me everything I want.”

  “Five hundred guineas?” the Duke queried. “My dear child, how long do you think that will last?”

  “Long enough,” Shimona answered.

  She was thinking that with the five hundred guineas her father was to receive they would be able to stay abroad for at least six months.

  “Enough for what?” the Duke enquired.

  Shimona did not reply and he exclaimed almost angrily,

  “Why must you be so mysterious? Why must you perturb me by giving me no explanations – by leaving me knowing as little about you now as when you first came?”

  She did not answer and he said,

  “That is not quite true. I know a great deal about you – about your character, your personality, your sweetness and indeed your purity.”

  He struck on the mantelpiece with his clenched fist as he said,

  “Knowing what I feel, do you really think you can walk out of my life and that after tomorrow I shall never see you again? It is impossible! Completely impossible!”

  “It is – something you have to – accept.”

  Shimona paused before she added,

  “If it makes you – happier, I will – not go on the – stage.”

  “Then what will you do? Where will you be?”

  “I am going – abroad.”

  “Abroad?” the Duke echoed. “To live? And do you think that wise when there is also the possibility of war breaking out with France again?”

  “Italy may not be involved,” Shimona said quickly.

  “So you intend to go to Italy.”

  She realised she had made a slip and therefore did not answer him.

  “I have a feeling that if you reach Italy this year, you may not be able to return.”

  He came a little nearer to her.

  “Who are you going with? Is it a man who is taking you away from your own country and everything that is familiar? Are you marrying him?”

  Shimona gave a deep sigh.

  “I cannot answer any of those questions, Your Grace. I think it would be wise now for me to retire to bed.”

  “I think it would be wise,” the Duke replied, “but I do not intend to let you go until you tell me the truth.”

  “I cannot – please – I cannot!”

  “I have asked you t
o trust me.”

  “I-I want to – but it is impossible – I swear to you that it is – impossible – otherwise I would do so.”

  She was pleading with him and he reached out his hand to take her chin in his fingers and turn her face up to his.

  “Could anyone look like you,” he asked almost savagely, “and yet be ready to deceive me?”

  “I am not – deceiving you.”

  It was difficult to speak because the touch of his fingers gave her a strange sensation.

  He did not release her, but looked deeper into her eyes and seemed to come closer.

  “You are so beautiful!” he said. “So unbelievably, incredibly beautiful!”

  Because the note in his voice made her breathless and because her throat seemed somehow to be constricted, Shimona put up both her hands as if to ward him off.

  “Please – ” she begged, “please – you are frightening me.”

  The Duke took his fingers from her chin.

  “I do not wish to do that, but you are driving me mad. There was a fire in his eyes that made her tremble, but she managed to stammer,

  “You – you will – forget me and thank you – Your Grace – for all your – kindness.”

  “Do you really mean that?” the Duke asked. “What can I say? How can I persuade you that you must not go?”

  “I have to,” Shimona answered. “There is nothing – more to be said – and it will only make – everything more – complicated.”

  “Why? Why?” the Duke asked. “Why can you not tell me the truth? What are these secrets you are hiding?”

  Shimona turned to pick up the envelope from the sofa.

  “Goodnight – Your Grace.”

  “If you really mean never to see me again,” the Duke said, “and if you do intend to go abroad where I cannot find you, then will you let me kiss you goodbye?”

  She did not answer and he said with a twist to his lips,

  “It is not much to ask and may I say it is something I cannot remember having asked before in the whole of my life.”

  He looked down at her worried little face and he said very softly,

  “You do not have to tell me that you have never been kissed and I want more than my hope of Heaven to be the first.”

  Shimona told herself that she should not listen to him and that she should leave the room immediately.