Count the Stars

by Barbara Cartland

“That is what I enjoyed. So you can quite understand why, apart from any other reason, I would never wish to marry someone like Sir Mortimer, who has not an intelligent thought in his head.”

  She spoke so scathingly that the Duke laughed and she added,

  “Most men I have met are the same. Their vocabulary is limited to a few hundred words and they have no interests apart from hoping the horse on which they bet their money will come in first and the cards they are holding in their hands will win the trick.”

  The Duke laughed again.

  “You certainly condemn us as a sex. I feel I should apologise for being a man.”

  “It was certainly clever the way you obtained my saddle for me.”

  “Thank you!” the Duke replied sarcastically.

  As if she was afraid that she had offended him, she said,

  “Please, I am not being critical of you. I am very very grateful for what you have done for me. It is only that, as a general rule, I find men stupid and unimaginative and very badly educated.”

  “You have obviously met a large number of the species,” the Duke answered mockingly.

  “I met a great many of Papa’s friends,” Valora replied, “and a number of men when I was in London with my stepmother, but none of them altered the opinion I formed when Mama and I discussed it before she died.”

  The Duke helped himself to several more eggs from the large dish that had been placed between them on the rough wooden table.

  “I imagine your mother’s opinions were the same as yours,” he remarked.

  Valora gave a little sigh.

  “I think Mama was frustrated and not very happy. You see – she was never very strong after I was born and was obliged to rest a great deal and she knew that it bored Papa, who used to be away a lot.”

  There was something in the way she spoke which made the Duke suspect she had an idea of what her father did when he was away from home, but he merely said,

  “So your mother encouraged you to use your brain.”

  “She said that knowledge was the one thing which would never disappoint me,” Valora said simply.

  “Surely because you have a great deal of knowledge it does not make you hate men and preclude you from marrying.”

  “I suppose I might meet a Professor who I could find very interesting,” Valora replied speculatively, “but I doubt if in these circumstances he would want to marry me.”

  “You are full of surprises,” the Duke remarked. “I have never met a young woman before who had made up her mind she would not marry because men were not clever enough for her. What do you intend to do with your life?”

  “I want to work at something useful and if possible to improve the standard of education for children.”

  The Duke stared at her.

  Without waiting for an answer, she went on,

  “Surely you realise how disgraceful it is that the great majority of people in this country have no education at all. A few of the great estates have schools for the children of their employees, but most employers don’t want the working class to have brains, just hands with which they can labour.”

  She spoke passionately and the Duke found it difficult to know what he should reply.

  He had an idea that there were schools on his estate for small children, but he was not certain. If there were, he had certainly not visited them nor had he received any report on their progress.

  He made a mental note that this was something he must enquire into when he returned home.

  Because at the moment he thought that he was rather out of his depth, he helped himself to several slices of a quite edible ham that was standing on the table and, as he did so, he said,

  “I am extremely interested in what you are saying, Valora, but we should not linger any longer than is strictly necessary. The further North we are before nightfall the safer we shall be.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She hesitated a moment and then remarked,

  “I am sorry if I am boring you with the subject that interests me. It is a very long time since I have been able to talk about it to anyone.”

  “I am indeed interested,” the Duke said firmly, “and perhaps tonight over dinner, when there is no hurry, I shall be able to sharpen up my brains so as to argue with you on equal terms!”

  He spoke a little cynically, thinking it was an impertinence of any young girl to think that she knew more than he did.

  But he saw that Valora was looking at him excitedly.

  “I do hope you will do so,” she cried. “It is something I will look forward to, more than I can possibly tell you.”

  Chapter Three

  The Duke drew in Samson and waited until Valora came to his side.

  They had been riding through the woods in single file and now the Duke found that they were on high ground overlooking a valley.

  He could see several small hamlets ranging away into the distance and was wondering whether it would be safe to stay in one of them.

  He had thought this afternoon when they passed two or three large houses that it would be a mistake to stay on some Nobleman’s estate, who might either make enquiries as to who they were, or worse still, inform Lady Melford’s servants that they had been seen.

  It was growing late and the horses were tired and he thought that Valora must be too.

  When he considered it, he realised she was exceptional in that all the time they had been travelling she had never complained or in any way drawn attention to herself.

  He could not imagine this happening with any of the women he had known in his life. Always they were demanding his attention, if not flirtatiously, then by trying to arouse his sympathy or his consideration.

  Because they had been travelling fast, conversation between them had been sparse and when they did talk it had either been about their route or something that Valora found amusing or interesting by the wayside.

  They had seen a man in the stocks, a sight which at first had evoked her compassion. But when they both realised that he was too drunk to know where he was, it had seemed amusing.

  The Duke knew too that Valora had been thrilled by the wildlife they had seen in the woods.

  It had been a slower way of travelling, but he had been wise enough to recognise that in country districts two people on outstandingly fine horses, galloping on private land, were bound to command attention.

  Valora looked over the valley, as he did, and then she asked,

  “Will it be wise to stay at an inn? Perhaps we should sleep in the open.”

  “It is not the type of restful night I enjoy,” the Duke replied dryly. “Nor would I recommend it as comfortable enough for you.”

  “I am not afraid of discomfort,” Valora retorted and then added, “in a good cause.”

  “I think we will risk it.”

  As he spoke, he would have moved his horse forward, but a voice behind them rang out harshly,

  “Stand and deliver!”

  The Duke was astonished.

  Then he turned round to see that just behind them there was a man on a horse with a handkerchief over the lower part of his face.

  He realised that he had been a fool, for not only would it be impossible for him to draw the pistol from his pocket without being shot in the process, but he was vividly aware that the money he carried was not concealed.

  Too late he thought that on such a journey he should have placed the notes in the lining of his coat and distributed his sovereigns in more than one pocket.

  Even as he ruminated, he was aware that the highwayman’s pistol was pointed at his heart and he began very slowly to raise his left hand.

  Then the highwayman gave an exclamation and the Duke realised that he was not looking at him but at Valora.

  Suddenly the man pulled the handkerchief from his face and exclaimed,

  “Miss Valora, what are you doing here?”

  Valora had been looking over her shoulder at the intruder as the Duke had been. Now she gave a cry
of unmistakable delight and turned Mercury round.

  “Mr. Travers, is it really you?”

  “It is indeed, Miss Valora,” the highwayman replied, “and what are you doing here and who is this man? Is he – ”

  “No – no,” Valora interrupted, “he is a friend. He is helping me to escape from my stepmother.”

  Astonished at this exchange, the Duke looked at the highwayman and saw that he was a man between thirty and forty, with a lean sharp-boned face which, without his concealing handkerchief, looked mild and unintimidating.

  The highwayman put his pistol into a holster on the front of his saddle before he said to Valora,

  “So you have run away? I suspected that was what you would wish to do when I heard of your intended marriage.”

  “You heard of it?”

  “News travels quickly in the places I frequent,” the highwayman replied with a smile, “and actually I was in the village of Heverington when I heard that you were expected.”

  “I escaped this morning,” Valora sighed, “thanks entirely to the help I received from Mr. Standon.”

  She indicated the Duke as she spoke.

  The highwayman rode up to him and held out his hand.

  “My name is Travers,” he said, “and I am pleased to meet you, sir. I had been thinking how I could help Miss Valora, but I was afraid it would be impossible.”

  “Oh, Mr. Travers, you understand why I could not marry a man like Sir Mortimer,” Valora cried.

  “Of course not and I would have prevented it even if I had to shoot Sir Mortimer first. If any man deserves to die, it is he.”

  The way he spoke made it more impressive because he did not raise his voice.

  “How far are we away from Heverington now?” the Duke asked.

  “About three miles.”

  Valora gave a little cry of horror.

  “Then we must ride further on. Suppose he hears that I am here in the vicinity.”

  The highwayman was silent for a moment and then he remarked,

  “If you escaped this morning, then Sir Mortimer is not likely to be aware that you are missing until her Ladyship reaches The Hall.”

  “No, that is true,” Valora said, “but surely it is dangerous to stay on his estate?”

  “There are not many on his land would tell him anything he wished to know,” the Highwayman said grimly.

  The Duke spoke for the first time,

  “You will appreciate that we have ridden a long way and the horses are tired. Do you know of somewhere safe? We can leave again tomorrow morning at dawn.”

  “I know just the place,” the highwayman replied, “where Miss Valora would be very much safer than she would be at Heverington Hall.”

  He looked down at the valley and pointed to a small hamlet about a mile and a half away.

  “If you go down the hill for about a hundred yards,” he said, “you will find a cart track which will take you through the trees onto a country lane on the other side of the wood. Follow it and you will come to the village. Look for The Magpie. It is an inn on the green.”

  “You don’t think they will be – suspicious of – us?” Valora asked in a frightened little voice.

  “Coming along the road you will seem like ordinary travellers,” the highwayman said, “but I will go ahead and warn them of your approach.”

  The Duke must have looked at him enquiringly, because the highwayman grinned,

  “They know me there, so I can personally recommend it!”

  “Thank you, Mr. Travers,” Valora exclaimed, “and I am so happy to see you again!”

  “As I to see you, Miss Valora. I have been worrying about you this past month, but I had no idea how I could get in touch with you.”

  “Fate has been on our side,” Valora said lightly.

  “Let’s hope so,” the Highwayman answered quietly.

  He lifted the reins of his horse.

  “I will be getting on and please remember that I am not known by my real name in these parts, just as Bill.”

  “We will remember,” Valora answered.

  The highwayman would have ridden off, but the Duke stopped him.

  “One moment,” he said. “I think it would be wiser if you say at the inn that we are brother and sister.”

  “Of course!” the highwayman exclaimed. “Stupid of me not to think of it. What name will it be?”

  The Duke tried to think if he had mentioned his name the previous night at the inn. Then he remembered that the landlord had not asked him for one and it was only when he was talking to Valora at breakfast that he had decided to call himself Standon.

  “Standon is not a name,” he remarked, “which will arouse much comment.”

  “Your appearance will do that,” the highwayman smiled. “Don’t worry, there’s no one to see you except a few yokels.”

  He spurred his horse and rode away through the trees and only when he was out of sight did the Duke say,

  “That was certainly a surprise and it has taught me a lesson I shall not forget.”

  “What is that?” Valora asked.

  “That not only should I be on my guard against gentlemen of the road, but also I must carry my money where I should not have to hand it over to the first fellow who asks for it at gunpoint.”

  “I suppose I should say the same about my jewellery.”

  “You have some with you?”

  “All I possess I have pinned into my blouse under my jacket. I thought perhaps a highwayman would not expect to find it there.”

  The Duke had the idea that highwaymen, whom he had never encountered before as he always travelled well protected, would expect people to hide their valuables. If it suited them they would not hesitate to strip their victim.

  “I will certainly take more care in the future,” he said more sharply. “I consider we have both had a very lucky escape.”

  Because he was angry with himself for having been caught unawares, he started to ride down the grassy incline towards the cart track.

  It was only when they had reached the country lane the highwayman had described to them, that Valora said,

  “I was so glad to see Mr. Travers again or rather Bill as he has told us to call him.”

  “Who is he?” the Duke asked, “and surely he is a very odd friend for you to have.”

  “I thought you might think that,” Valora smiled. “Actually he was my Latin teacher.”

  The Duke looked at her in utter surprise.

  He had been aware that the highwayman spoke in an educated voice and he had in fact been so astonished by the whole encounter that he was now exceedingly curious.

  “Tell me about him,” he asked.

  “Mr. Travers was the Agent for the next estate to ours,” Valora said. “It belonged to Lord Mount who was old and noted for lording it over his estate in an autocratic manner that even Papa said was out of date.”

  The Duke wondered what Valora meant by this, but he did not interrupt as she went on,

  “Mr. Travers had read for the bar and intended to practice as a barrister, but, although he did brilliantly at his University, he could not afford to wait to become established in a practice and, when he was married, he took the job with Lord Mount.”

  “I should not have thought a barrister was likely to make a good Agent,” the Duke remarked.

  “I think Mr. Travers is so clever he could have done anything well and, as he was brought up in the country, he understood how an estate should be run. It was more than that horrible old Lord Mount did.”

  “What happened?” the Duke asked.

  “Lord Mount discovered that Mr. Travers was teaching the children of the labourers to read and write. There was no kind of schooling available for them and, because he thought this was wrong, Mr. Travers gave them lessons in his free time and on Sundays.”

  Valora’s voice deepened with anger as she continued,

  “Lord Mount discovered this and accused Mr. Travers of teaching the people he employ
ed to be revolutionaries. So he dismissed him and turned him out of his house without notice.”

  “I can hardly believe it!” the Duke exclaimed. “Surely there must have been other reasons.”

  “No! Lord Mount loathed and feared any form of progress and what he described as ‘new-fangled ideas’.”

  “It seems incredible,” the Duke murmured.

  Even as he spoke, he was aware that there were quite a number of landlords who had no wish for their labourers to better themselves or take on what was called ‘ideas above their station’.

  “Mrs. Travers was having a baby,” Valora said in a low voice. “She was not only upset about what had happened to her husband, but they had to travel a long distance to her parents’ home and she – died.”

  There was a sob in Valora’s voice as she mumbled the last word.

  “So Travers took to the road,” the Duke said.

  “I believe the first person he robbed was Lord Mount,” Valora answered in a different tone. “Although he has never talked about it to me, I feel sure it was not the money he took which pleased him but the feeling that for once in his life he had His Lordship at his mercy.”

  The Duke laughed.

  “One does not always get the chance of revenge so neatly. It was also a dangerous thing to do.”

  “Very dangerous,” Valora agreed. “And of course, now there is a price on his head. Papa was away when he was dismissed and, when he returned, I begged him to do something to help Mr. Travers. But by then it was too late. Lord Mount had notified the Magistrates and the Military were told to arrest him.”

  “Which would mean he would be hanged on a gibbet at the crossroads.”

  “I don’t think he would mind very much,” Valora replied. “He loved his wife, who was a very sweet person and he misses her badly.”

  The Duke did not reply, for at that moment he saw the village green ahead of them.

  There was the inn they expected, but very much smaller and more dilapidated than the one they had breakfasted at or another where they had stopped for bread and cheese later in the day.

  Just for a moment the Duke thought it did not look a proper place for Valora, then he remembered that they could not be particular. It certainly would be unwise to linger in the vicinity of Heverington Hall.