108. An Archangel Called Ivan (3 page)

“I can say exactly the same,” Charles replied in a deep voice. “I love you, Betty, and you belong to me as no one else will ever be able to do. You are part of me, not only my body but my brain, my heart and my soul. They are all yours and no one else could ever take your place.”

Again there was silence.

Then Charles said,

“I want to kiss you, darling. I want to kiss you and for a moment at least we can think of each other and no one else. Let’s go into the garden so that you can be in my arms and nobody will be able to see us.”

He must have risen as he spoke.

Listening, Arliva heard the chairs scrape as they moved away.

As she gave out a deep sigh realising that she had been holding her breath listening to what the two people were saying, Arliva heard a voice outside the door.

However, she did not wish to speak to anyone at the moment.

There were tears in her eyes because what Charles had said had been so moving.

Without really thinking but just because she wanted to be alone for a moment, she slipped down behind the sofa and was sure that if anyone came into the room they would not be able to see her.

It was then she heard a woman’s voice say,

“Now this room is empty and I want to speak to you, Simon. There is no point in you not listening to me.”

“I think I know what you are going to say,” a man’s voice replied.

Arliva recognised it as belonging to the young Earl of Sturton.

He had asked her to dance with him several times this evening and she had managed to avoid him.

She had thought him a rather dull young man and had been delighted to find that she was already promised to someone more interesting.

“Shut the door, Simon,” his mother, the Countess of Sturton, was saying, “and listen to what I have to say to you.”

“I know what you are going to say, Mama,” the Earl replied, “and I am quite certain that Miss Ashdown has no wish to marry me.”

“Then you have to persuade her to accept you,” his mother replied sharply. “I have noticed that you have not danced with her and only asked to do so once or twice.”

“She refused me,” the Earl said, “just as she would refuse me if I offered her marriage.”

“How do you know that?” the Countess asked him. “After all you have an excellent title and I noticed there were not many amongst those men she was dancing with, as you failed to do.”

There was silence as if the Earl could not think of anything to say.

“You must realise that we need the money,” the Countess continued, “and there is no one else, no one in the whole of London who has more. Wake up, Simon, and be a man for a change!”

The Earl made a sound which was hardly a word but one of disgust.

“You must be aware that we are in debt, you silly boy, and your marriage to that Ashdown girl will solve all our problems. Now you hurry up and propose to her this evening as I have told you to do and for Heaven’s sake make your proposal sound attractive.”

“It’s just a complete waste of time, Mama,” Simon persisted sullenly.

“Nonsense! You have a lot to offer with Sturton Castle even though a huge amount of it needs repairing, but then our family goes back for over a thousand years and that is more than most people here tonight can say.”

The Countess spoke with a harshness and edge to her voice which seemed to vibrate around the room.

Then Arliva was aware that she had risen from the chair she had been sitting on.

“Now come along, Simon,” she urged. “You must insist on Arliva Ashdown dancing with you. Then take her out into the garden and ask her to be your wife. And for goodness sake make her realise how serious this is to you.”

Simon could not answer this.

His mother made a sound that Arliva thought was half anger and half frustration.

Then she heard the Countess walk to the door.

“Now do as I have told you!” she repeated sharply.

Her son made no reply, but Arliva heard him close the door.

Then she stood up from behind the sofa feeling that what she had overheard this evening had been in a way degrading and mortifying.

‘All they think about is my money,’ she reflected. ‘It’s not a question to them of whether I would be happy or unhappy.’

It was then that it suddenly struck her that it would be her fate – never to find anyone who loved her because she was just herself.

Her father had often told her how he had fallen in love with her mother.

They had become friends from the first moment they had talked together.

“It was when I had left her,” he reminisced, “that I knew I had to see her again. There was something about her that made her different from every other woman I had ever met.”

He had smiled before he added,

“And I assure you, my darling, I have met a great number in my life.”

“I know that, Papa,” Arliva had said. “And what did Mama feel about you?”

“She told me afterwards that from the moment she first saw me she thought I was one of the most handsome men that she had ever seen. But she never for a moment dreamt that I would be interested in her because she was so much younger and she dared to say much stupider than the other women surrounding me!”

Arliva laughed.

“I am sure that was not true, Papa.”

“No, indeed it was not! Your mother always had something the Scots call ‘fey’ that tells them instinctively in their hearts what they don’t know in their minds.”

“What you are really saying,” Arliva said, “is that Mama fell in love with you, Papa!”

“So she always told me and I loved her from the first moment I set eyes on her and believed that she was far too young to be interested in an old man like me.”

“But she was and you were so very very happy together,” Arliva said softly.

“Happier than it is possible to put into words, but we loved each other with our hearts and I have always believed that your mother would have felt exactly the same about me if I had not a penny to my name and just been ‘Mr. No One of Nowhere’.” “I am sure that’s true,” Arliva sighed.

She remembered kissing her father and saying,

“That is how I love you, Papa. Just as you are and not because you are rich and successful.”

Her father had laughed and put his arms around her.

“That is how I want you to feel,” he said. “And one day you must find someone who loves you for yourself and not for anything you possess.”

Arliva could almost hear him saying it.

She knew that so far she had not met anyone who had felt like that about her.

She could hardly believe that what she had listened to had not been part of a dream. Charles wanting to marry her despite the fact that he adored Betty and Simon being ordered by his mother to ask her for her hand in marriage, although she was certain that he did not find her at all lovable.

It then suddenly struck Arliva with a feeling of horror that maybe she would never find anyone who would love her for herself.

She wanted the love her father and mother had had for each other which was why he had never married again, although at times he must have been very lonely.

‘I just want to be loved for myself,’ she thought. ‘I don’t want anyone who pretends to care for me because they want my money or anything else I possess.’

Yet she could not stop herself worrying that it was something she might never find.

She could hear the band playing and knew that her guests would be wondering why she was not with them.

Perhaps they would think she was sitting in some secluded corner listening to a man offering her his heart and he was only really giving her his brain which told him that she was very rich.

She felt as if her money was encircling her with tight cords that would prevent her from ever knowing the meaning of real love, the love that everyone wanted, the love of a man and a woman simply because he was the other half of herself.

‘That is what I want,’ Arliva said to herself, ‘but because I am so rich it is a gem I will never find. Even if I want to believe a man loves me I will be quite certain that he will be grasping for that great fortune which exists in my name. Oh, please God, what shall I do?’

The prayer came directly from her heart.

Now that Charles and Betty had gone, she went to the window as if to look up at the sky.

There was a half moon and all the bright stars were twinkling.

“Help me, please help me!”Arliva cried. “I have to find love, but for the moment it’s impossible to believe that any man will ever love me for myself.”

She was staring at the moon as she spoke.

Then, as the light from it seemed to descend upon the earth beneath, an idea came to her, an idea so strange and so outrageous that she could not believe it possible.

Yet she knew it was what she had asked for in her prayers.

This was the answer.

Arliva slept well that night despite the fact that she had been very late going to bed.

It had been two o’clock before anyone had thought of leaving what to them was a very good party.

She was glad when at last some of the older guests decided that they were tired and the band played ‘
God Save the Queen
’as everyone stood to attention.

They all said that it was one of the best parties they had been to in the Season.

Only Arliva knew what trouble she had experienced in keeping away from the Earl, who had been ordered by his mother to propose to her.

He kept turning up every time she was without a partner to ask her to dance and fortunately she was able to stave him off by saying that she had promised someone else.

In fact she managed to avoid dancing with him at all before the party came to an end.

When she climbed into bed, she did not feel sleepy as she had expected.

She lay still thinking of how Charles and Betty had doubtless gone home clinging to each other almost in tears at the thought that they would seldom be able to do this again.

The idea that had come to her when she had left her sitting room was still there at the back of her mind.

But she had to think her present situation over most carefully as her father had taught her to do.

She looked in depth at her problem from what she believed was an impersonal angle.

Finally she fell into a deep sleep.

*

When she awoke, it seemed to her that things were much simpler than they had been the night before.

She dressed and enjoyed a large breakfast.

To the household’s surprise she did not want to go riding in Rotten Row. Instead she ordered a carriage as she said that she needed to go shopping.

Her aunt had made it a rule for some time that she would not have her breakfast until ten o’clock. Therefore she had no desire to discuss the engagements of the day until at least an hour later.

As Arliva did not wish to be questioned as to what she was about to do, she ordered a carriage at a quarter-to-ten to go shopping.

“Do you wish that Mrs. Featherstone comes with you, miss?” the butler asked.

She was the housekeeper and Arliva would usually have preferred to take her shopping with her than one of the other maids, who knew nothing about fashion and only stood staring while she purchased something.

“Not this morning,” Arliva answered. “I don’t have to go far and I know that she is busy clearing up after last night’s party.”

“A right mess a party always leaves behind,” the butler replied, “especially when it’s for the young ‘uns.”

Arliva laughed.

“We will grow old soon enough. You must not stop us being young while we have the opportunity.”

The butler smiled.

“It’s good for us all to have you here, Miss Arliva,” he said. “We gets old and stuck in our ways, as I were sayin’ to cook only yesterday. A party, even if it gives us a lot of work makes us feel young again just watchin’ you.”

“I knew you would understand, Rickards,” she said. “At the same time it will take them a while to make the floor as good as it was. I noticed when the guests came in from the garden that some of them brought in sand and even grass on their shoes.”

“We’ll soon polish it off, miss,” Rickards replied confidently.

Arliva laughed again.

She told Rickards, as he saw her into the carriage, to tell the coachman to take her to Bond Street.

When they arrived, she said that she wanted to go first to the bank in Hanover Square.

Coutts Bank, where her father had kept his money, was one of the oldest in London.

When Arliva asked to see the Bank Manager, she was taken immediately to his room.

As she was announced, he then jumped up from his chair and held out his hand.

“This is a great surprise, Miss Ashdown,” he said, “and, of course, you are very welcome.”

Arliva smiled at him and sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

“I have come to talk to you, Mr. Carter,” she said, “about some of the things I require doing immediately and everything I say is naturally confidential.”

The Bank Manager nodded his head as if this was too obvious to require a reply.

Arliva went on,

“I want you to write to Mr. Charles Walton and tell him that my father gave you instructions before he died that, if any of his closest friends were in trouble, he would help them out of their difficulties so long as it was not publicised or talked about to anyone else.”

The Bank Manager stared at her in surprise, but he did not interrupt.

“I want you to send Mr. Charles Walton the sum of twenty thousand pounds on the condition that he does not convey to anyone who he has received it from.”

The Bank Manager gave a gasp.

“
Twenty thousand pounds
, Miss Ashdown! That is a very large sum and, of course, I would have to discuss it with your Trustees.”

Arliva held up her hand.