Claudia thought that he was merely flattering her in order to get his own way.
She was at first appalled at the idea.
How could she possibly act the part of a Marchioness when she had never even met one?
How could she, who had never even been to a ball or a party, know how to behave in a Palace?
Then it suddenly occurred to her that, while she might not have known such people, her mother was the daughter of an Earl and had married an Earl.
She was not, as she had pretended to be, the wife of an actor whose father was the Headmaster of a school.
Her own blood, as far as her mother and her real father were concerned, was as blue as the Marquis’s.
There was no need for her to be afraid of pretending to be a Lady of Quality – she was one!
Of course she would be acting a lie and, if she was exposed, it would undoubtedly do the Marquis great harm.
She became aware, as she was thinking, that he was watching her face.
Then he said,
“I am begging you, Miss Coventry, to help me. I am sure you understand that, if the Prince asks me to marry his daughter and I refuse, it could have Diplomatic repercussions.”
“I understand what you are saying – of course I do,” Claudia said. “At the same time, if I let – you down, it would be – disastrous.”
“I am always prepared to take a risk when I think I have a good chance of winning,” the Marquis said. “But because you are Walter Wilton’s daughter and also because I have now met you, I am certain that I have more than a good chance. If difficulties arise, we will surmount them together.”
Claudia was still hesitating.
Then she asked herself what was the alternative?
To beg the Marquis to pay her fare to England and her bill at the hotel?
That would be humiliating and he would not be anxious to help her if she would not help him.
She told herself that she really had no option, but at the same time she was no less apprehensive.
Her mother was not there to advise her and she was in a strange country with so many extraordinary things happening to her.
As if he understood, the Marquis said kindly,
“I want you to trust me and I promise that I will make things as easy as possible for you. I need not tell you how grateful I would be, because I have no wish to be married, least of all to a foreigner.”
He rose from his chair to stand in front of the fireplace.
“What we have to be careful about,” he said as if she had already consented to act the part, “is the servants. Servants talk, but I am sure if I take my valet into my confidence, he can put a stop to it. He has always been loyal to me and I trust him.”
He looked at her for a moment before he went on,
“What we have to do now is to make sure that the people here have no idea of what we are planning. You can leave that in my hands.”
“What are you – going to do about – them?” Claudia asked in a small voice.
“I will tell the proprietor that I knew the lady you were accompanying very well. I think her name was Bressley, was it not?”
“That is right,” Claudia affirmed. “Lady Bressley.”
“I have heard of her,” the Marquis said, “and I think that you were fortunate to have been employed by someone who had the reputation of being very charming.”
As he spoke, Claudia stiffened.
She realised that he supposed, because she was Walter Wilton’s daughter, that Lady Bressley had engaged her as a paid companion.
It was something that she had not expected.
But she thought that it would be a mistake to enlighten him.
It would mean that she would have to explain that she was not Walter Wilton’s daughter and that would make the whole situation very different from what the Marquis thought it to be.
“I will tell the proprietor that he can add your bill to mine and that I am going to arrange for you to be escorted back to England by train as soon as we arrive in Seville.”
“H-he will – believe that?” Claudia asked.
“I will make sure that he does,” the Marquis answered.
“I think it would be wise,” Claudia suggested, “if you also speak to Lady Bressley’s Courier, who was injured in the accident. He has told me that he has only just enough money to get back to England, but if you could give him – a little more he would be – very grateful – and relieved that he will not be saddled with me on the journey back home, which is what he fears.”
“Of course,” the Marquis said. “Leave it to me. I propose now, Miss Coventry, or rather Claudia, because that is what I must call you, you go to bed and arrange to leave with me tomorrow morning at nine o’clock.”
“I will – do that,” Claudia said meekly.
There were a number of things she wanted to say, but somehow she could not put them into words.
As she rose to her feet, the Marquis added,
“I have been somewhat remiss in forgetting to mention that I will, of course, pay you for your services and I hope you will think it reasonably generous.”
Claudia was about to say that she would not take his money.
Then she remembered that, when she arrived back in England, she would have to find some way of keeping herself, otherwise she would starve.
She therefore bit back the words and the Marquis went on,
“I had decided, before you came to see me, to suggest that it should be five hundred pounds for your performance, which I am sure will be a very good one. But now I have talked to you, I will make it one thousand.”
He smiled before he said,
“I am sure that Walter Wilton made a great deal of money during his fantastically successful career, but, if I know anything about actors and actresses, they spend everything they earn as soon as they earn it.”
“That is – indeed true,” Claudia agreed.
She was thinking of how she had found nothing in Walter Wilton’s desk.
But she still hoped that there would be something in the Bank.
“Then that is settled,” the Marquis said. “And, when we return to England, you need no longer worry as to how the rent is to be paid, at least for a short while.”
He laughed as if it was a joke, but Claudia knew it was in fact the truth.
She could not help feeling elated by the thought that she need no longer be afraid of being alone in the little house in Chelsea.
Or alternatively having to write to her father and ask him to save her from starving to death.
If he did not answer the letter, she would know that her mother was still unforgiven.
Anyway he might have no wish to be saddled with a daughter he had not seen since she was one year old.
‘One thousand pounds!’
She suddenly wanted to cry aloud.
The Marquis had transported her as if on a magic carpet from the depths of despair into a Paradise of delight and anticipation.
She felt certain that she could last a year, or even longer, on one thousand pounds.
By that time anything might have happened.
‘Perhaps,’ she thought, ‘if I am as good an actress as the Marquis expects, I could find a job on the stage.’
Even as she thought of it she could see the disapproval in her mother’s eyes.
And there would also be a frown on Walter Wilton’s forehead.
‘They did not want me to go on the stage,’ she told herself, ‘but the stage has come to me!’
She wanted to laugh at the idea.
“Now go to bed and stop worrying,” the Marquis said, “I will worry for you and make sure that you have nothing to do except look lovely, smile charmingly and make everybody believe that I am the luckiest man in England to have married you!”
Because it sounded so ridiculous, Claudia laughed.
“We have made a bargain,” the Marquis said, “and now let’s shake hands on it.”
Claudia put out
her hand and he took it in both of his.
“I really am very grateful,” he continued, “and just in case it has occurred to you, let me swear that I will do nothing that you do not like or make you feel in any way afraid or embarrassed by me.”
Claudia did not for the moment understand what he meant.
Then she realised he was saying that, if they were supposed to be married, it could be a very intimate relationship.
The colour flooded into her cheeks.
“You are very young,” the Marquis said as if he was speaking to himself, “and I will keep my promise.”
“Thank – y-you,” Claudia said shyly and moved towards the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
Claudia came downstairs the next morning at exactly the time the Marquis had told her.
As she walked out of the front door, she stared in astonishment at the horses.
They were very fine and far superior to anything she had seen for a long time.
The chaise was also in the very latest fashion and with every comfort one could imagine.
As she sat down beside the Marquis, he picked up the reins and the groom jumped up on the seat behind.
The proprietor bowed very low as they drove away.
“How did you manage to find such wonderful horses?” Claudia asked as soon as they were on the high road.
“They are mine,” the Marquis explained. “I brought them with me to impress the Spanish!”
“You brought them – with you?” Claudia exclaimed.
She had never thought of anybody doing anything so extraordinary.
“It was not difficult,” the Marquis said, “because when I designed my new yacht, I specially included in it accommodation for my horses.”
It sounded so luxurious that Claudia could think of nothing more to say.
She was aware that the Marquis drove with an expertise that she had never seen before and she watched him fascinated.
When they had driven for some distance, he suggested,
“Now I think that we must go over our ‘script’ so that we make no mistakes. I shall tell the Prince when we arrive that your sick relative with whom I had thought I would have to leave you in England, made an unexpected recovery. So you were able, at the very last minute, to sail with me after all and, as we have only just been married, you did not like being away from me.”
He spoke in a slightly mocking tone and with a twinkle in his eyes that made Claudia laugh.
“That sounds very plausible,” she said.
“The only people with us who will know the truth will be my groom and my valet,” he continued. “The valet has gone ahead with our luggage.”
Claudia looked surprised and the Marquis said,
“You will learn that I always arrange things so that I have as little to do as possible. If there is one thing I dislike when I am travelling, it is having to fuss over the luggage.”
“I can understand that,” Claudia said. “And I cannot imagine any more exciting way to make a journey than to be first in your yacht and then in this wonderful chaise.”
“I am glad you appreciate it,” the Marquis said, “because I designed it myself.”
When they stopped for luncheon in a small town, the Marquis drove to what was obviously the best hotel.
Claudia was not really surprised to learn that his valet had already stopped there on his way to Seville.
Luncheon had been ordered and the wine was on ice when his Lordship arrived.
The meal was certainly excellent and they were served in a private room that had been reserved for them.
When they had finished eating and the waiters had withdrawn, the Marquis said,
“And now, before we set out on the last lap of our journey, here is the cheque I promised you. You must keep it safely until you arrive in England and then pay it into your Bank. I imagine that your father had one, if you don’t have an account of your own.”
Claudia did not reply.
She only somewhat reluctantly took the envelope that he was giving her and then he put some more money down on the table.
“There is fifty pounds in Spanish money,” he said, “and fifty in English.”
“I-I don’t need – that,” Claudia replied quickly. “You have – given me quite – enough already.”
“As my wife,” the Marquis said coolly, “it would be expected that you would carry enough money to tip the maids who look after you and to buy anything you require.”
Claudia had not thought of that and she knew what he said was sensible.
Slowly, because she was embarrassed, she picked up the money.
She put it into her handbag together with the envelope containing the cheque.
“Incidentally,” the Marquis said, “there is one thing you must remember. You came abroad without a lady’s maid because your maid is inclined to be seasick and when we were on the yacht my valet looked after you.”
Claudia smiled.
“I hope I shall not be seasick!”
“We will find that out only when I take you back to England,” the Marquis said. “But my yacht is very seaworthy and I shall be surprised if even in the Bay of Biscay you are ill.”
“I was all right on the Liner on the way out,” Claudia told him, “and it was very rough!”
After that they talked very little until they had almost reached Seville.
Then when there were only a few more miles to go the Marquis said unexpectedly,
“I think you will find that Seville is one of the few Cities in the world that really lives up to its own image.”
Claudia looked at him questioningly and he went on,
“There is a sense of romance there, of colour and of joie de vivre that is peculiarly its own. You will see Sevillians smoking their cigars and drinking their glasses of sherry as they watch the people in the streets pass by them.”
He paused before he added,
“I remember somebody telling me that they live up to the Arab maxim that goes, ‘Life is much shorter than death’. So they are determined to relish every bit of life before death overtakes them.”
It was something that Claudia had not expected him to say.
It showed that he had a perceptiveness that she had not thought to find in an Englishman.
As they drew nearer to the City, she was impressed by the width of the streets, which were bordered by rows of trees.
She had glimpses of buildings that she knew had belonged to the Moors before St. Ferdinand had delivered Seville from them.
The Marquis told her that the Palaces of the Arab Rulers had also served as fortresses.
“Outside,” he said, “they have huge blank walls that defended them against their enemies. But inside you will find exquisitely decorated interiors and in many of them the Moslem motifs still remain.”
“This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me!” Claudia said.
The Marquis smiled at her enthusiasm.
The Prince’s Palace, which was in the centre of the City surrounded by a large park, was extremely impressive.
A number of servants were waiting on the steps to welcome them.
The moment they entered one of the huge lofty rooms, Claudia was aware of the fine stucco work and the blue azulejos or glazed tiles.
They walked through several rooms before they reached an enormous salon where Prince Carlos de Alcalá was waiting for them.
Claudia had a quick impression of chandeliers, carved gold tables, enormous gold-framed mirrors and a painted ceiling of Gods, Goddesses and cupids.
Then she looked at the tall dark-haired man who was waiting for them.
She was well aware that this was a crucial moment for the Marquis.
He had to explain not only that he had brought an unexpected guest but also that he was married without anyone being aware of it.
As they entered the room, the Prince walked towards them holding out his hand.
“My dear Marquis!” he exclaimed.
“I am delighted to see you! I do hope you have not had too strenuous a journey.”
The Marquis put his heels together and made the correct bow to Royalty.
Then he answered,
“I am more than delighted, Your Royal Highness, to be here. At the same time I hope you will not be annoyed with me for bringing someone very important to me as an uninvited guest.”
The Prince raised his eyebrows.
As Claudia curtseyed low, the Marquis said,
“May I, sir, present my wife?”
Claudia thought that, considering the shock, the Prince controlled himself admirably.
Just for a moment he stiffened.
Then he said in a slow quiet voice,
“This is a surprise, Datchford! I had always understood that you were a confirmed bachelor.”
“That was true, until I met Claudia,” the Marquis replied. “We were married very quietly shortly before I left England because one of her near relatives was extremely ill and we were afraid that she might be plunged into mourning for a year.”
“I understand,” the Prince said.
“I thought I would have to leave my wife behind to be with her. But fortunately the relative made an unexpected recovery and my wife was able at the very last minute to sail with me after all.”
“I am very happy,” the Prince smiled, “to welcome your wife and to congratulate you on your marriage.”
It was very nicely said.
But Claudia was aware there was an unmistakable look of disappointment in the Prince’s eyes.
A few minutes later they were joined by his daughter, Princess Louisa.
Claudia could understand the Marquis’s fear of finding himself married to the young Spanish Princess.
She was not at all pretty, but had a presence owing to her rank that was undeniable.
She had obviously been told that the Marquis was a prospective bridegroom and it was impossible for her to hide the disappointment in her eyes when Claudia was presented to her as his wife.
Or to disguise the cool manner in which she greeted Claudia.
Because she felt sorry for her, Claudia tried to be as friendly as possible. She talked animatedly about the beauty of the Palace.
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