Authors: Barbara Cartland
Chapter Five
Da
vita
realised that
her head was aching and she must be very tired.
Her mouth felt dry, and vaguely she wondered if she had drunk too much champagne the night before.
H
er eyes felt heavy and seemed to be throbbing, and it was with an effort that she managed to open them.
T
hen she knew that she must be dreaming, for beside her on the bed, and she thought it was in her lodgings, was a man!
She could see his white shirt and his dark head, and when she shut her eyes to try to make herself wake up, she could feel again the dryness of her mouth and the pain in her head.
Suddenly there were voices and laughter and she opened her eyes to see Violet in the doorway of a strange room and beside her Lord Mundesley.
For a moment their faces swam in front of her eyes,and there was another face too, and she was sure that she was having a nightmare.
T
hen Violet was saying angrily:
“
Really, My Lord! It is disgraceful of you to behave in such a manner to my poor little friend who has only just arrived from Scotland!”
I
t was then Davita realised that Violet was not looking at her but was speaking to somebody beside her.
S
lowly, because she was so frightened that it was almost impossible to move, she turned her head.
T
he man she had seen in what she thought was a dream was the Marquis!
N
ow in a horror that made her feel spellbound she was aware that they were lying on a huge canopied bed, with silk curtains falling from a gold corola, side by side on lace-edged pillows.
“
I must wake up, I must!” Davita told herself.
B
ut the Marquis did not disappear. He was there in his white shirt without his evening-coat, and he was real ... real!
A
s if he was as bemused as she was, he lay very still for a moment. Then slowly he raised himself on the pillow, saying as he did so:
“
What the devil is all this about?”
Only when he was sitting up on the bed did he see that Davita was beside him, and as he looked at her Violet said again:
“You have behaved disgracefully! I cannot allow my friend’s reputation to be injured, so you will have to make reparation!”
Without saying anything, but with an expression of anger and contempt on his face, the Marquis rose from the bed and Davita felt sure that he was feeling as strange and as hazy as she was.
He picked up his evening-coat, which was lying on a chair, and as he started to put it on Lord Mundesley said:
“It is checkmate, Vange! There are only two things you can do—marry the girl, or pay up.”
Davita drew in her breath.
It was gradually percolating through her befuddled mind what had happened. She remembered the toast on the Prince’s birthday, and the way she had been forced to drink the whole glass of wine because Violet had said that otherwise it would be an insult.
Suddenly she understood. She had been drugged! She remembered the room seeming to swing round her before she was overwhelmed by a darkness which rendered her unconscious.
The same thing must have happened to the Marquis, and this was what Violet and Lord Mundesley had been planning: to discredit him, to pay him out for beating Lord Mundesley’s horses at the races and for treating Rosie in the way he had.
But why should she be part of the plot?
She knew she must tell the Marquis that it was nothing to do with her.
But because her lips were so dry, although by now she was sitting up, it was impossible either to move or to speak.
She could only watch what was happening, finding it hard to breathe.
T
he Marquis had put on his evening-coat, and now as he pulled his lapels into place he said in an icy voice: “Let me make it clear that I will not be blackmailed!”
“I think you might prefer it to being sued for breach of promise,” Lord Mundesley said with a sneer.
The Marquis did not reply, and with what Davita felt was an unassailable dignity he started to move towards the door. Then Violet said:
“As Davita is not lucky enough to have any jewellery to keep, I should imagine a sum of—say—five thousand pounds would mend a broken heart.”
The Marquis by now had reached the door of the bedroom, and as he went to open it Lord Mundesley said mockingly:
“It is no use, Vange! You are caught—hook, line, and sinker! We have a photograph, in fact several, of you
together with this poor, innocent child, and let me point out she is not a Gaiety Girl but respectable and innocent—or rather she was!”
T
he Marquis walked three paces back to face Lord Mundesley.
T
he two men confronted each other and Davita saw that the Marquis’s fists were clenched and she thought he would strike Lord Mundesley.
With an effort she found her voice.
“
N-no ... please ... ! This is ... wrong ... very wrong ... I ...”
Before she could say any more, Violet was beside her.
S
he caught hold of her arm, digging her fingers into the softness of the flesh as she said in a hissing whisper:
“
Be quiet! Don’t say anything!”
“
B-but ... I ...” Davita began, then realised that neither of the men had paid any attention to her interruption.
“
I know only too well why you have done this,” the Marquis was saying, and his voice was low and controlled.
“
You have had it coming for some time, Vange,” Lord Mundesley replied. “This time I have slipped under your guard and the only thing you can do is to pay up. As Violet says, it will cost you five thousand pounds to buy the photographs from me.”
T
he way he spoke was even more unpleasant than what he said, and once again Davita knew that the Marquis was considering knocking him down.
T
hen, as if it was beneath his dignity, he said:
“
Go to the devil!”
T
hen he walked from the room, slamming the door behind him.
F
or a moment there was silence. Then Violet gave a little cry and asked:
“
Have we won?”
“
We have!” Lord Mundesley replied. “He will pay up because there is nothing else he can do.”
He walked to the end of the bed and, resting his arms on it, leant forward to look at Davita.
“Well, my pretty little Scot,” he said, “I have done you a good turn. With five thousand pounds in your pocket, there will be no need for you to go looking for employment for some time!”
As he spoke, Davita was vividly conscious of the look in his eyes, which made her shrink away from him as she had done in his carriage.
She was not only afraid of him, but she hated him so violently that for the moment she was aware only of a disgust which made her feel sick.
Then it swept over her with horror that she had been humiliated and made a participant in Lord Mundesley’s and Violet’s plot to extract money from the Marquis.
However, some instinct of self-preservation warned her not to say so at this moment, and she merely turned her face towards Violet, saying desperately:
“I ... want to ... go ... home!”
“That is where I’ll take you,” Violet answered.
She helped Davita off the bed, but when her feet touched the floor she felt as if the room were still swinging round her and she staggered.
“You’re all right,” Violet said. “You’ll soon sleep it off.”
She put her arm round Davita’s shoulders to lead her towards the door.
“I will help you,” Lord Mundesley said.
Davita shrank away from him as Violet said:
“Leave her alone! She’s all right. Just see that the coast is clear. She won’t want to talk to anybody at the moment.”
“Oh ... no ... please ... !”
“Don’t worry,” Violet said as Lord Mundesley went ahead of them. “Nearly everyone’s left by now, and the rest are too drunk to know whether it’s Christmas or Easter!”
“What ... about the ... Prince?”
Davita vaguely remembered seeing him peering through the door when she first woke up.
“He thinks it’s a fine joke!” Violet replied. “He won’t talk, and most of the others didn’t realise what had happened. We got you out quick and up the stairs while the rest of the party were toasting their host.”
“How ... could you ... do such a ... thing?” Davita asked.
“I’ll tell you later.”
They reached the stairs and Davita was walking more firmly but she still held on to Violet’s arm.
Lord Mundesley’s carriage was at the front-door, and as they drove away she leant back and shut her eyes, determined not to talk about it to him.
However, she was obliged to listen to him chuckling and gloating over the Marquis’s discomfort in what she knew was a most unpleasant manner.
“I never thought to catch him at such a disadvantage!” Lord Mundesley said in a self-satisfied voice. “Violet, my pet, you are a genius!”
“I’m not worrying about your revenge,” Violet replied, “and I couldn’t care one way or the other if the Marquis has better horses than you. What I did was to help Davita. She’ll be all right now and will need assistance from
no-one
...
”
There was an accent on the last word that made Davita think Violet was aware of the proposition Lord Mundesley had made to her.
Then she told herself it was impossible, but unless she was blind Violet must have noticed the way he looked at her, which had been very revealing.
‘I hate him! I hate him!’ she thought, and did not open her eyes until they reached their lodgings.
Then her hatred of Lord Mundesley gave her a burst of energy which enabled her to hurry past him as he assisted first Violet and then herself to alight and be halfway up the staircase before they had reached the hall.
As she turned to climb the second flight, she glanced down to see Lord Mundesley pulling Violet into his arms, and she wondered how she could allow anyone so revolting to kiss her.
It was an inexpressible relief to reach her own bedroom and take off her mother’s gown, feeling she had besmirched it and would never wear it again, before Violet came into the room.
“Now don’t be upset, Davita,” she said in a coaxing tone. “I know it was a bit of a shock, but when you get the Marquis’s cheque tomorrow, you’ll thank me from the bottom of your heart.”
“I will not ... take his ... money,” Davita said in a low voice.
“Don’t be such a little fool!” Violet said sharply. “You know as well as I do you’ve no alternative, unless you’re prepared to accept the suggestion which I suspect Bertie’s prepared to make you.”
Davita drew in her breath.
“I’m not half-witted,” Violet went on. “I know he fancies you, even though he may not have said anything yet.”
Davita hoped the relief these last words gave her did not show on her face, and Violet went on:
“Not that I’d mind losing him as much as all that—there’s plenty of others! But I know Bertie, and he’d soon tire of you after he got what he wants.”
This was the phrase that Davita had heard in her childhood, and it made her think of Jeannie and how she had killed herself and her baby because the Piper could not marry her.
“How can ... you be so ... friendly with him ... Violet?” she
asked. “He is ... a married man.”
Violet laughed.
“I’m not expecting Bertie or any of his kind to marry me,” she said, “but he gives me a good time, and he’s generous when it comes to gowns and sables. There’s a dozen like Willie, bless their hearts, but they haven’t got two pennies to rub together.”
“But it is ... wrong,” Davita murmured.
Violet gave a little laugh and turned her back.
“Undo my gown, there’s a dear, and stop worrying your head over me. I’ve saved you from being faced with the eternal question of ‘starvation or sin,’ and that’s all that need concern you for the moment.”
Davita unbuttoned her gown and Violet with difficulty moved round the tiny room towards the door, saying as she went:
“Good-night, and tell them downstairs that no-one’s to wake me ’til I call. I’m dead on my feet!”
As she shut the door behind her, Davita put her hands over her face and sat down on the bed to try and think.