She found herself looking at the clock on the mantelpiece not once but a dozen times and, when she went riding, knowing that Harry would not accompany her, she kept thinking that the watch she wore on her left wrist had stopped.
It was impossible to eat anything at luncheon, although rather than call attention to herself, she helped herself automatically from the silver dishes bearing the Wayte crest and messed about with the food on her plate.
It was two o’clock when she went along the passage that twisted and turned through the ancient house leading finally, she knew, to the Estate Office in the East wing.
She had only once been there before when she had first come to Kings Wayte and had explored the house, finding its innumerable corridors and varied staircases fascinating because it was so unlike any house that she had ever seen before.
Now she was concerned only with reaching the office with its maps, its files and the huge desk where she knew that Harry would be sitting.
As she turned a corridor into another passage, she saw a number of men standing outside an open door.
She realised that they were filing in one by one and she recognised one of the men she had seen working on the farm.
Lucy-May saw a chair against the wall with the Wayte Coat of Arms painted on its back and sat down.
She knew that she must wait until Harry had finished paying the wages and she only hoped that there was not another exit from the office by which once again, he would elude her.
Then she saw the men who had obviously been paid coming back out of the room, passing those who were waiting and she knew that now at last she had tracked him down and this time he could not escape.
There was not such a crowd as she had first thought and she guessed that what Rose had said was right and the men from the far parts of the estate came after luncheon while the rest would doubtless be here by about five o’clock.
If she did not see Harry now, there would always be a chance later on, she told herself, but she could not endure to wait any longer.
She had to see him, she had to talk to him and it was humanly impossible to go on suffering as she had been doing these last few days.
The last man went into the office.
When he came out, there was nobody to follow him and Lucy-May knew that this was her opportunity.
She waited until he had disappeared down the passage and then she ran towards the office door.
It had been closed by the last man and she opened it and went in.
Harry was making an entry in a large ledger that was open on the desk in front of him.
He finished what he was writing and then looked up as if expecting to see another servant who wished to speak to him.
When he saw who stood just inside the door, he was suddenly very still.
“Harry!”
Lucy-May’s voice seemed to be strangled in her throat.
Slowly Harry rose to his feet and as he did so, Lucy-May came nearer.
“Harry – I have to see you. Why have you been avoidin’ me?”
“I thought I had already explained that,” he replied, “and there’s no point in going over it again.”
“There’s every point!” Lucy-May argued. “We can’t go on like this, Harry. We have to talk – ”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he interrupted.
He walked round the desk and stood facing her.
“I am sorry,” he said, “I have an appointment.”
“Harry – please – ”
“No!” he said sharply. “No!”
He moved towards the door.
With a little cry Lucy-May ran in front of him to stand with her back against it.
“I won’t let you go!” she persisted. “You have to listen to me. You have to!”
“For God’s sake,” Harry said in a voice she hardly recognised. “Stop behaving like this. If you can’t stand it, I can’t either.”
She saw the pain in his eyes, but knew that he still intended to leave her.
With the cry of an animal that had been hurt, she flung herself against him.
“Harry – Harry!” she said. “I love you! Oh, Harry, marry me, because if you don’t I shall die!”
Her arms were round his neck pulling his head down to hers and for a moment he resisted her.
He was stiff and unyielding and she thought frantically and in desperation that she had lost even the power to attract him.
Then his arms were around her and he was kissing her, wildly, passionately, fiercely, as if every barrier between them had broken and there was nothing he could do about it.
He kissed her until she was giddy with the wonder of it and she kissed him back until it seemed as if they had ignited a fire that consumed them both.
Then, in a voice that seemed to be that of a stranger, Lucy-May managed to say,
“You will marry me! Oh, Harry, say you’ll marry me?”
She spoke against his lips and thought that once again he would hold her captive with his kisses, but instead, as if that question was like a shower of cold water bringing him back to sanity, he pushed her roughly from him.
“No,” he cried. “The answer is no! For Christ’s sake, leave me alone!”
As he spoke, he walked out of the room slamming the door behind him and she was left staring at it knowing that she had failed and that her whole world had collapsed into ruins.
*
Mr. Wardolf walked into the drawing room, which had been set aside for dancing, to find practically all his guests doing the ‘two step’.
Like the Duke, he found it hard to distinguish one from another, but he did recognise several rather pretty girls who had been with them for over a week and two young men whom he thought rather more inane than the rest.
But there was no sign of Lucy-May or the Duke.
He thought with satisfaction that they must be together somewhere, but then he heard someone crossing the hall and, when he looked round, it was to see the Duke coming down the stairs.
“Hello, Tybalt,” he said. “Have you seen Lucy-May?”
“No, not since luncheon,” the Duke replied, “I have been having a rest. Could I now have a talk with you?”
“I will come to the library,” Mr. Wardolf replied. “After I have found Lucy-May!”
The Duke did not reply, but went on towards the library and Mr. Wardolf looked towards the two footmen on duty in the hall.
“Have you seen my daughter?” he enquired.
“Not for some time, sir,” one of them replied.
“What was she doin’ then?”
“She was goin’ upstairs, sir.”
The footman hesitated, then added,
“She seemed a bit upset, sir.”
“Upset?” Mr. Wardolf asked quickly.
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Wardolf hurried up the staircase and along the passage to the State bedroom that Lucy-May had chosen as she thought it more attractive even than the Queen’s room.
It was called ‘The Elizabethan Room’ and it was furnished very much as it must have been at the time the house was built.
But, although the Wardolfs were not aware of it, the curtains and carpet had come from another famous Elizabethan house, the contents of which had recently been sold because its owner had been killed in the war.
It was, in fact, a very attractive room with two bow windows and an oak four-poster bed carved with flowers and fruit.
Mr. Wardolf having knocked, entered the room without waiting for a reply to find his daughter lying face downwards on the bed.
“Lucy-May,” he began.
As she turned to look towards him, he added,
“What’s happened? What’s upset you? Why do you look like that?”
“Go away!” Lucy-May cried, hiding her face again in the pillow. “Leave me alone. There’s nothin’ you – can do – nothin’ anyone can do – all I want is to die!”
Mr. Wardolf moved beside the bed and put his hand on his daughter
“Now what’s all this about?” he asked. “I can’t bear to see you lookin’ like that, my poppet.”
It struck him that he had not seen Lucy-May cry since her mother died and he could not imagine what had occurred now, to get her into the state that she was obviously in.
From the one glimpse he had of her face, he knew that her eyes were swollen, her cheeks streaked with tears and something very serious must have occurred to upset her in such a manner.
He seated himself on the edge of the bed and said,
“Suppose you tell me about it?”
“There’s – nothin’ to – tell.”
“There must be!” he protested.
“If there was – anything I’d be – happy and not – miserable as I am – now.”
Lucy-May’s voice broke on the words and she was crying again, crying in a manner that upset her father and made him know that he would do anything, anything in the world, to prevent his child from suffering.
He bent down and pulled her into his arms.
She did not resist him, but hid her face against his shoulder and he held her close as if she was a baby.
“Now tell me what all this is about,” he said gently.
“Oh – Poppa – I’m so – unhappy!”
“If it’s a problem, you know I’ll solve it for you.”
“You can’t do that – nobody can!”
“Why not?”
Lucy-May did not answer, she merely went on crying.
“Now listen, my honey,” Mr. Wardolf said, “we’ve been together long enough for you to know that where I’m concerned nothing is impossible and I mean that! Whatever has upset you, whatever has made you cry like this, I’ll find out what you want or put right what has gone wrong.”
“It’s no – use – Poppa – we are not in America now – we’re in England – and Englishmen don’t – think like us.”
“You mean it’s a man who’s upset you?”
Mr. Wardolf’s voice was sharp and, when Lucy-May did not answer, he asked,
“What man? Is it the Duke?”
“No – it’s not the – Duke.”
“Another man? Who?”
“It’s no use my tellin’ you,” Lucy-May sobbed. “It’ll only make you – angry and he won’t change his – mind.”
With a considerable effort Mr. Wardolf restrained himself from bluntly commanding her to tell him what she was talking about. He had tried those tactics with Lucy-May before and they had never worked.
Instead he held her more closely and kissed her hair before he said,
“Now, sweetheart, you’re making me unhappy as you are yourself. You tell me what’s upset you and whatever it is; I swear I’ll not be angry.”
“You are sure – quite sure you’ll not be?”
“I give you my word of honour. I’ll not be angry with you or the man, if that’s what you’re worryin’ about.”
“I’m not worried about him,” Lucy-May said. “I’ve – lost him and he won’t marry me – even though I’ve asked him to.”
Mr. Wardolf stiffened and then he said,
“You’ve asked somebody whose name I don’t know to marry you?”
“Yes, I – begged him to – marry me – but he said ‘no’ – and I know why.”
“Why?” Mr. Wardolf enquired.
“Because I’m rich and he’s not. Because he knows you wouldn’t approve! He’s – too honourable to see me secretly – and he won’t marry me. Oh, Poppa – Poppa – what am I to do? I wish I were dead!”
Mr. Wardolf was bewildered, but he knew that the one person he adored in the whole world was suffering as he had never imagined she could suffer and that made him ask very quietly,
“Tell me who it is you love.”
“It’s – Harry – I know you’ll be – angry – but I can’t help it – I love him! I love him! And as far as I’m concerned – there’s not another – man in the whole wide world.”
For a moment Mr. Wardolf was puzzled.
His mind flickered over the young men who were staying in the house, none of whom he could remember being called ‘Harry’.
Then he said slowly as if the idea was quite inconceivable,
“You can’t mean Dunstan?”
“I – knew you’d be angry!” Lucy-May sobbed, “But you promised – you promised you’d not be angry with him.”
“I’m not angry,” Mr. Wardolf said untruthfully, “I’m only trying to understand what’s happened.”
As if Lucy-May knew what he was thinking, she gave a little cry.
“If you think he’s been playin’ with me – you’re mistaken! It’s I who’ve been pursuin’ him. I told him I love him and I know that he loves me – but he has sworn he’ll never see me again – and he’s managed to avoid seein’ me for three days – and it’s been agony – just agony!”
“And what happened today?” Mr. Wardolf asked.
“I caught him when he was – payin’ out the wages,” Lucy-May said a little more coherently than she had spoken before. “I told him I couldn’t live without him – and I asked him to – marry me.”
“And what did he say?”
There was a sudden burst of tears before Lucy-May replied in a voice her father could hardly hear,
“He said ‘for Christ’s sake leave me alone!’”
Now she was sobbing again, sobbing in a heart-breaking fashion and it made her father feel that she was only a child again, too young and too vulnerable to face the hardness and cruelty of life.
Then, as she continued to cry, he said after a moment,
“What do you want me to do? How can I help you?”
“There’s – nothing you – can do!” Lucy-May replied. “If Harry won’t listen to me – he won’t listen to you. Only if you told him I’ll never have a cent of your money and you’ll cut me off – disown me – then perhaps he might realise how much I care.”
There was a cynical expression on Mr. Wardolf’s face as he said,
“I promise you I’ll have a talk with this young man, but you know, dearest, that I wanted you to marry the Duke.”
“I know, Poppa, but I wouldn’t marry him if he was the last man in the world,” Lucy-May replied. “I won’t marry anyone, anyone except Harry – and if he won’t marry me – I’ll just remain unmarried with you for the – rest of my life!”
If she had spoken doubtfully it would have been easier, Mr. Wardolf thought, to discount it as part of her mood at the moment, but Lucy-May spoke with a positiveness and determination that was almost an echo of his own voice.
His plans had fallen about his ears, but he knew, because he loved Lucy-May as he had never loved another human being, that he was not going to stand by and see her suffer without trying to do something about it.
Very gently he laid her down on the pillows.
“Now wash your face, my honey,” he said, “then go into the sitting room until I come back. I’ll go and talk to young Dunstan and see what all this is about.”
Lucy-May hung onto her father frantically.
“You’re not to be – unkind to him – you’re not to be – angry. It’s not his fault – it’s mine! I know he would never have – told me that he – loved me if I hadn’t said it – first. I pursued him, Poppa, pursued him because I wanted him – because I love him – and one can’t help love.”
There was something pathetic in the way she spoke and still holding onto her father, she said in a voice hardly above a whisper,
“Momma told me that when you first met her you had no money – and were only just getting started – but she never for a moment thought about the – future – whether you were rich or poor – all she knew was that she – loved you and as far as she was concerned you were the – only man in the whole world.”
“Leave everything to me,” Mr. Wardolf insisted.
He kissed his daughter’s cheek and then he walked towards the door.
“I’ll not be longer than I can help,” he said.
He walked along the passage and when he reached the top of the stairs, he called one of the footmen.
“I want to speak to Mr. Dunstan immediately!” he declared. “Have you any idea where he is likely to be?”
To his surprise the footman looked indecisive.
“I said immediately!” Mr. Wardolf repeated sharply. “Is he in the house?”
“I thinks so, sir.”
“Then go and find him and ask him to come and speak to me in the library. It’s important!”
“Very good, sir.”
Mr. Wardolf went down the stairs and the footman as he had expected did not follow. Instead he knew he went to the green baize door at the end of the passage.
Mr. Wardolf walked on towards the library and only as he reached the door did he remember that the Duke would be there and immediately retraced his steps into the hall.
He decided that he would wait until Dunstan arrived and then take him into one of the other sitting rooms where he reckoned that they would not be disturbed.
He was wondering what he would say. At the same time he had promised Lucy-May that he would do something, but now he was not certain what it would be.
In fact as he waited his anger grew against the man who had upset his daughter and his own plans.
The footman returned, coming down the staircase.
He reached Mr. Wardolf’s side.
“I’m sorry, sir, but Mr. Dunstan asked me to say that he can’t come as you requested, as he’s leavin’ within the next few minutes.”
“Leavin’?” Mr. Wardolf asked sharply.
“Yes, sir.”
“Where is he goin’?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“You mean he’s goin’ out into the grounds or goin’ away?”
“I thinks he’s goin’ away, sir. He was packin’ when I spoke to him.”
Mr. Wardolf’s lips tightened.
“Show me where I can speak to Mr. Dunstan.”
The footman hesitated.
“Well?” Mr. Wardolf said. “What are you waitin’ for?”
“I don’t think Mr. Dunstan’d like that, sir.”
“I don’t care whether he likes it or not,” Mr. Wardolf snapped angrily. “I intend to speak to him. Will you show me the way or must I find it for myself?”
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