Love For Sale E-Book

Barbara Cartland

• Herausgeber: Barbara Cartland Ebooks Ltd
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Eternal Collection
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 241

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Dashing, handsome and much in demand with Society ladies, the Duke of Oswestry is trapped by the beautiful but duplicitous Lady Marlene with whom he has just finished an ill-advised love affair. Claiming that she is with child and, falsely, that he is the father, she demands that he marries her or she will cause a great Society scandal, something that the Duke in his worst nightmares would never tolerate. He has previously vowed never to marry, but it seems that now there is no escape for him until a beautiful young girl appears at his front door begging him to save her from two men who are relentlessly pursuing her. Suddenly the Duke has an idea. He can save them both from their own pursuers simply by pretending that he is engaged to this lovely young waif, Udela Hayward. Little does he suspect, however, the violent passions that his pretence betrothal provokes. When there is a diabolical attempt on his life by his jealous younger brother, Lord Julius and a band of cutthroats, it is the innocent Udela who bravely saves his life. And to whom he finally loses his heart and she is carried to the stars when he kisses her for the first time.

Leseprobe

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The keepers of bawdy-houses in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries made great fortunes.

Some imported their women from the Continent, but most of them enticed decent girls into their clutches and then there was no escape.

Servant girls coming to London from the country were easy prey and were offered lifts to their places of employment in comfortable carriages or were tempted by offers of more money.

No young girl was really safe in the streets of London, especially if she was pretty, until after the First World War and the history of the period contains heart-rending stories of the way they were mistreated and their early deaths from drink, drugs and disease.

Chapter One ~ 1820

As the Duke of Oswestry drew up his phaeton outside his impressive house in Park Street in Mayfair, he wished that he could drive on.

He was calling on Lady Marlene Kelston only because he had received not one but three letters from her in the last twenty-four hours, each one telling him more volubly than the last that she must see him immediately.

He could not imagine what might have occurred to make her write to him after they had been parted for nearly three months.

He had had a brief and fiery love affair with the Lady Marlene and, when it had ended in an acrimonious quarrel when they had been extremely offensive to each other, he told himself that he had been a fool in the first place to become involved with her.

Lady Marlene, who had been the celebrated toast of St. James’s for the last two years, was a very determined woman.

The Duke’s mother had always told him warningly,

“There is bad blood in the Kelstons.”

The Duke acknowledged that she had been right after he had become intimate with Lady Marlene and found out that the bad blood did indeed reveal itself in her character.

To the world she was very glamorous with a most unmistakable allure and her impetuous disregard for the social conventions had a charm of its own.

She had been married while the Duke had been fighting with the Duke of Wellington’s Army and her husband had been wounded at the Battle of Waterloo, but he had only finally died of his injuries three years ago.

Hardly allowing the conventional time of mourning to pass, Lady Marlene had appeared like a meteor on the Social world and there had been little doubt as to her success.

She was extremely beautiful and, when finally the Duke had succumbed to her pursuit of him, he knew that it was inevitable.

What he had not expected, nor had anyone else, was that Lady Marlene’s tantrums and insatiable demands would bore him so quickly.

But then, if Lady Marlene was unpredictable, so was the Duke.

He was nearly at his thirtieth birthday and he had already enjoyed a vast experience of women or all sorts.

He had been chased, pursued and stalked since the moment he had left school for there was no one in the whole country who was more eligible as a matrimonial parti and no man who was as handsome and irresistible to the opposite sex. He was also extremely elusive, but it was his fastidiousness and desire for perfection that made him find that women palled on him so quickly that the Prince Regent had remarked jokingly,

“Your conquests last such a short time, Oswestry, that we shall soon find ourselves, now that the War is over, having to import females from the Continent for your delectation.”

The Duke had laughed dutifully. At the same time there was a darkness in his eyes that the Prince Regent did not notice.

One thing that he really disliked most was talk about his love affairs and so he thought ingenuously that his private life should be private.

But in the Beau Monde, where every titbit of scandal was collected and mouthed over until there was nothing left to say on the subject, it was impossible for anyone as important or as attractive as the Duke to keep anything private.

This was another reason why he had finished with Lady Marlene. She talked and that in his eyes was unforgivable.

Handing the reins of his superb horses to his groom, he stepped down from the phaeton, noting as he did so that the crested buttons on the footman who was waiting at the open front door needed cleaning.

On her husband’s death Lady Marlene had reverted to her family name and wishing she announced in a somewhat aggressive manner,

“To wipe out the past and that includes my late and unlamented husband!”

The Dowagers, who had always disapproved of her, agreed that this was the heartless as well as outrageous way that one would expect her to behave.

However, they had been aware, since the War ended, that Lady Marlene had no use for a man who was crippled, even though his severe injuries were received in performing a deed of conspicuous gallantry on the battlefield for his country.

“For me a man must be a man,” Lady Marlene had said when somebody had rebuked her for disparaging her husband and there was no doubt on this occasion at any rate that she was speaking the truth.

‘What on earth does she want with me,’ the Duke asked himself now as he was shown across the marble hall and a footman opened the door of the salon on the other side of it.

The Duke knew the house well. He had called often enough when he and Lady Marlene had been so enamoured of each other.

It had always struck him that it was very badly decorated and that the furniture needed polishing. It was actually the family house of the Kelstons and was owned by Lady Marlene’s brother, the Earl of Stanwick.

As he seldom came to London, it would have been absurd for her to set up house on her own besides being very much more expensive.

The Kelstons never had enough money, which was hardly surprising as they were all as extravagant as Lady Marlene, but, as her bills were invariably paid for by her many admirers, she was in a better position than the rest of her relatives.

The salon was empty and the footman murmured,

“I’ll tell her Ladyship you are here, Your Grace,” and closed the door.

The Duke walked slowly towards the mantelpiece still worrying as he did so as to what Lady Marlene had to tell him.

His impulse on receiving her first note was to ignore it, but, when the second and third arrived, he had the uncomfortable feeling that, if he did not go to her, she would come to him.

This was something that she had done more than once in the past, turning up at Oswestry House in Berkeley Square without any invitation and then involving him in uncomfortable situations with his older and more staid relations, who disapproved of her and were prepared to say so, even though they knew that it annoyed the Duke.

They, however, did not say as much as they might have done for the simple reason that they were rather frightened of him.

He took his position as Head of the Family seriously and, from the moment he inherited, was very much more circumspect in everything he did in public than he had been when his father was alive.

“You are getting old and staid!” Lady Marlene had often taunted him.

This was usually when he would not take part in one of her more outrageous escapades or had refused categorically to accompany her to some ball or a party given by people he did not approve of.

He remembered now how fierce their quarrels had been, often as fiery and tempestuous as their lovemaking, and he told himself that as far as he was concerned he was very glad that it was over.

The door opened and Lady Marlene came in.

There was no doubt that she was beautiful, even the Duke had to acknowledge that.

The lights in her red hair flickered like leaping flames on her head and her eyes, which were unmistakably green, glinted beneath their dark lashes.

She walked towards him and there was an expression on her face that he could not put a name to.

Then, as she reached him, she crowed,

“So you have come at last!”

“I cannot imagine why you wish to see me.”

“It is important, Randolph.”

“So I gather.”

Lady Marlene tipped her head a little on one side as she looked at him. It was a rather characteristic movement that her admirers found enchanting.

“You are exceedingly handsome,” she said, “perhaps better-looking than any man I have ever known. I cannot imagine why we quarrelled with each other.”

“I cannot believe that you brought me here to listen to compliments,” the Duke answered coldly. “Tell me what you want, Marlene. I am driving two young horses and they will be fidgeting.”

“Horses! Always horses!” she exclaimed with a sharp note in her voice. “I always swore that they meant more to you than any woman.”

The Duke did not reply. He only waited and she knew that he was impatient. He found it extremely irritating when a woman did not come to the point quickly.

“I sent for you,” Lady Marlene said after a little pause, “to tell you that I am having a baby!”

Just for a moment the Duke was still.

Then he said,

“Why should you imagine that would interest me? Obviously the person who should be informed is Charles Nazeby.”

“He knows already,” Lady Marlene said briefly. “But, as you are well aware, Charles is penniless.”

The Duke’s lips curved slightly in a cynical smile.

“You can hardly expect me to pay for Nazeby’s indiscretions?”

“I am not asking for money.”

“Then what?”

“Marriage!”

If she had exploded a bomb right in front of him, the Duke could not have been more astonished.

He stared at her in amazement.

Then he queried,

“Can I really credit it that you are asking me to marry you because you are expecting Nazeby’s child?”

“It might be yours.”

“But you know as well as I do that it is nothing of the sort.”

“I believe I should be the person to choose who should father my unwanted brat,’ Lady Marlene asserted, “and who could give him or her a better start in life than a Duke?”

There was a momentary silence before the Duke replied,

“If that is all you have to say to me, Marlene, I have wasted my time in coming here, so I will bid you ‘good day’.”

He made a movement as he spoke as if he would walk towards the door, but she was standing in front of him and now she said with her eyes searching his,

“It’s no use running away Randolph. I always intended to marry you before we had that foolish and unnecessary quarrel and I shall, if nothing else, make you an amusing wife.”

“You may intend to marry me,” the Duke replied, “but I have no intention of marrying you or for that matter anyone else!”

“That was always your attitude,” Lady Marlene retorted. “But you know that you will have to marry sometime rather than let Julius inherit and this is the moment to disappoint him once and for all.”

“Before we become embroiled any further in this conversation,” the Duke said, “let me make it clear that I will not marry you and there is no point in discussing it any further.”

“There is every point,” Lady Marlene contradicted, “because, if I really have to marry someone, I prefer it to be you.”

“I suppose I must take that as a compliment, but unfortunately you expressed your true feelings for me very forcefully when we parted.”

“How can you be so incredibly tiresome as to remember what we said when we both lost our tempers and were only trying to hurt each other? Whatever I may have said, I loved you then, Randolph, and I still love you now.”

“Very touching!” the Duke said sarcastically, “but I cannot believe that Nazeby will be very pleased.”

“Charles has nothing to do with it. He just cannot support me and anyway he has already suggested that it might easily be your child rather than his.”

“It does not surprise me in the least,” the Duke said. “Nazeby never would face up to his responsibilities.”

“But you always do and therefore, Randolph, the sooner we are married the better!”

The Duke sighed.

“I thought I had made it clear that I will not marry you and I disclaim all responsibility for any child you may bear. Great Heavens it is three months since we last saw each other.”

“Not quite three months, so it could possibly be yours.”

“Only a fool would believe that and I am not a fool, Marlene.”

Once again the Duke took a step towards the door and again Lady Marlene was in front of him.

Now her green eyes narrowed and there was a touch of venom in her voice as she said,

“Do you really intend to do nothing for me?”

“Nothing!”

“Very well then. I shall immediately send for my brother. He will not only believe me, but he will support me in making you see sense.”

The Duke was certain that the Earl of Stanwick would be quick to realise the advantages of having a rich and Ducal brother-in-law.

He was a fiery man as wild and unpredictable as his sister and even more dangerous. He had been involved in innumerable duels, fights and even riots.

He caused trouble wherever he went and, after the last of his periodical visits to London, his friends as well as his enemies, when he left, had heaved a deep sigh of relief.

The Duke was well aware what trouble the Earl could cause and, although he was not in the least afraid of duelling with him, he knew that it would result in a scandal that would be reported in the newspapers.

Every single detail of his quarrel with Lady Marlene would be known not only to the Beau Monde but also to the ordinary public.

This was something he disliked above all else and he felt every instinct within him shrink from the malicious gossip that would ensue.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Lady Marlene said with a note of triumph in her voice,

“Hector will believe me and Hector will make certain, Randolph, that you do not leave me to bear the consequences of our love alone.”

The Duke did not reply and after a moment she said,

“It is much better to give in without all the fuss as you will have to do so in the end.”

“If there is one thing I really abhor,” the Duke said and his voice was icy, “it is being blackmailed!”

Lady Marlene threw back her head and laughed.

“If that word is supposed to intimidate me, it does nothing of the sort. Very well then, Randolph, I am blackmailing you and I am certain when I tell my relations how despicably you are behaving, they will be prepared to blackmail you too!”

Her eyes were focused on his face, looking for some reaction, but the Duke’s expression, although grim, did not change and she did not have the satisfaction of realising how much she was perturbing him.

“Now just let me see – ” she went on, “my Aunt Agnes is the hereditary Lady-of-the-Bedchamber to Her Majesty. I am sure that the Queen would be very upset at your behaviour and my Uncle George is still, although he is over seventy-five, a Lord-in-Waiting. They can easily spread the word around Buckingham Palace in a very short time.”

She was aware as she spoke that the Duke was looking at her and his eyes were like agates.

He was thinking that it was his own fault that he was now in this unpleasant and indeed dangerous situation.

Just how could he have guessed, how could he have known that beneath that beautiful exterior there was the tongue and heart of a viper?

At this moment he felt a positive revulsion of Marlene and he thought it was an aspersion on his own good taste that he should ever at any time have found her attractive.

With a sudden change of mood Lady Marlene said,

“Do forgive me, Randolph, I did not mean to plague you. When you marry me, I will behave with some propriety and we shall enjoy ourselves as we did before we fought in that stupid manner.”

She paused as if she expected him to say something, but as he was silent, she went on,

“You know I shall grace the Oswestry diamonds and give parties that everybody will fight to be invited to.”

She smiled and it made her face even more beautiful than it was already.

“Think what fun it will be to put your odious brother’s nose out of joint! I suppose you know that, while he is not pestering you at the moment for money, he is behaving in a manner that would make your ancestors turn in their graves?”

“I have no wish to discuss anything that may concern Julius with you,” the Duke said sharply. “What my brother does or does not do is not your business nor are you mine.”

Now he moved past Lady Marlene before she could stop him and walked firmly towards the door.

“If that is your last word,” she said, “I shall send for my brother Hector.”

“Send for him and be damned!”

As the Duke spat out the words, he left the salon and Lady Marlene heard his footsteps moving across the marble hall.

For a moment there was an expression of concern in her green eyes and then she smiled confidently.

“He will not escape me this time – ” she called out aloud.

*

Driving back from his Club in his closed brougham, the Duke was wondering, as he had wondered all the evening, what he should do.

Because he was feeling so disturbed after his interview with Lady Marlene, he had sent a message excusing himself from the dinner party he was supposed to have attended at Holland House and had gone instead to dine at White’s Club.

There had been a number of his friends there to welcome him, but they had found him surprisingly quiet and absentminded until at least three of them had asked him,

“What is the matter with you, Randolph? You seem depressed.”

The Duke had wanted to tell them that indeed he was depressed, but instead he merely admitted to a headache and continued to worry.

He disliked the thought of a scandal, but even more the idea of marrying Marlene.

All the time when they had been physically attracted to each other, he had always known that she was unstable and could, if anyone offended her, be vitriolic.

But he had never imagined for one moment that any woman would sink to the methods she was employing now to force him to marry her or show herself in her true colours in a way that left him disgusted and increasingly apprehensive.

How could he contemplate accepting as a wife, a virago, a woman with so few morals that she was prepared to foist on him another man’s child, a man for whom the Duke had no liking and less respect?

Sir Charles Nazeby was a total waster, a man who lived on his wits and who the Duke suspected, although he had no evidence to substantiate it, was not above cheating at cards.

That any child of his, if it was a boy, would one day become the Duke of Oswestry was a possibility that the Duke was determined to oppose whatever the cost.

He was, although he never spoke about it, exceedingly proud that his family all through history had served the Monarchy and the country to the best of their abilities.

The family name was Westry and there had been Westrys who had been great Statesmen, Westrys who had been extremely gallant on the field of battle and Westrys who had sailed away to explore the world.

They had always commanded the respect and admiration of their contemporaries and the Duke was determined that he would not defame their memory.

He thought now that he should have married and bred a son before he became involved with Lady Marlene, but he had wanted his marriage to be different.

Because he knew how many of his personal friends were unhappy or at least bored with the wives who had been chosen for them by their parents, he had fought to remain single.

He told anybody who had urged him to walk up the aisle that he had decided to remain a bachelor.

He had always thought to himself that there was plenty of time for him to do later what was obviously his duty when he no longer enjoyed his freedom as much as he did now.

It was not only that he so much liked running his houses and his vast possessions without any interference from a woman, but he was honest enough to admit that he enjoyed being able to pick and choose from among the beautiful women who offered him their favours only too eagerly.

He was not particularly conceited, but he was well aware that every beauty in the Beau Monde considered it a feather in her cap if he became her lover.

It was pleasant to know that unlike Lady Marlene the majority of them remained friends and were exceedingly fond of him after their liaison was over.

Many, it was true, had broken hearts, or so they averred, but the Duke thought cynically that few hearts were permanently damaged by love and the wounds, if there were any, soon healed.

But now out of the blue when he least expected it, Marlene Kelston was menacing him in a way he had never been menaced before in his life.

Because everything about the situation was intolerable, he had suddenly risen from the card table and, without making any explanation, had left the Club abruptly.

He did not even hear his friends calling after him,

“Randolph, you have forgotten your winnings!”

Only after he had gone without replying, did they look at each other and ask,

“What has happened to Oswestry? I have never known him behave so strangely.”

“It must be a woman,” someone suggested.

There was laughter at this, but it was incredulous.

“A woman?” was the reply. “Have you ever known Oswestry worry over a woman when he only has to lift his finger to have a hundred crowding round him?”

“That is true enough,” another man exclaimed, “and dammit, with his looks and money, he ruins the market.”

As the carriage drove down Berkeley Street into Berkeley Square, the Duke felt as if he was turning a treadmill round and round in his mind and never getting any further.

It was the same question that presented itself over and over again and he could only find one answer and that was that there was nothing he could do!

He was scowling in a manner that made the footman who opened the door of the carriage as it drew up outside Oswestry House look at him apprehensively.

His Grace was home early, which was most unusual, and inevitably when something was wrong the staff, most of whom had been with the Duke for many years, were aware of it.

Another footman had hurriedly run the red carpet across the pavement and the butler was standing in the open doorway as the Duke stepped out of his carriage.

The servants bowed their heads as he passed them.

Then, as he reached the two steps to the front door, there was a sudden cry and a woman came running along the pavement to fling herself against the Duke and holding onto him and shouting as she did so,

“Save – me! Save – me!”

She spoke frantically and, as the Duke then turned towards her in surprise, he saw a very young face looking up at him and two eyes dark with fear.

“Save me!” she cried again. “Help me please – they are trying to – catch me!”

The butler then moved hastily to the Duke’s side and took the woman by the arm.

“That’s quite enough of that,” he said. “Be off with you! We don’t want any of your sort here.”

As he spoke, the stalwart young footman who had set down the carpet went to the other side of the woman.

“Leave this to us, Your Grace,” the butler urged.

As he spoke, he pulled the woman backwards and, as if she realised that he intended to remove her, she gave another cry.

“Please – please – I was – told it was – Lord Julius Westry’s carriage – but I am sure – that was a lie – ”

By this time the butler and the footman had already dragged her several feet from the Duke and he had moved onto the first step leading up to the front door.

Now he looked back to ask sharply,

“Who did you say?”

“Help me – please – help me!”

The woman was now sobbing out the words.

“Leave her alone,” the Duke ordered.

As the butler and the footman took their hands from her arms, she ran forward again, her eyes misty with tears and looking up at the Duke to add,

“They – they are – trying to catch – me!”

The Duke looked to where in the darkness of the square he could see two men standing irresolute, as if they had checked their pursuit of their victim when they saw who she was speaking to.

“You mentioned a name just now,” the Duke said. “Will you repeat it to me?”

“Lord – Julius – Westry – told me he had – employment for – me.”

The Duke stared at her as if he wanted to be certain that she was speaking the truth.

Then he suggested,

“Come into the house and you can tell me exactly what has happened to you.”

The woman glanced over her shoulder and, as if she too could see the two men in the distance, she shuddered and ran quickly up the steps after the Duke who had already reached the hall.

He handed his evening cloak, his high hat and his cane to a footman and then he walked across the marble floor.

She followed him and, as another footman opened a door, they entered the library.

It was a large very impressive room with windows looking onto a garden at the back of the house.

Now the curtains were closed and the light from the candles showed books arranged in fine Chippendale cases, a large writing table in the centre of the room under a painted ceiling, a sofa and two wing-backed armchairs in front of a fireplace.

The Duke walked to stand with his back to the mantelshelf to inspect his visitor.

He saw that she was small and very young and, he then told himself with considerable surprise, unexpectedly lovely.

She had very large eyes in a heart-shaped face and her hair under her plain unfashionable bonnet was the colour of ripening corn. Her eyes surprisingly were not blue but, unless he was mistaken, the grey of a wintry sea.

She was looking at him apprehensively and the terror was still in her expression and he saw that she was trembling.

“Come and sit down,” he invited her quietly.

As if his voice had reassured her, she moved gracefully towards one of the wing-backed chairs and sat down on the edge of it, her hands in her lap.

He knew that her clothes were somewhat old-fashioned and, although in good taste, were of inexpensive material.

He was sure from what he had heard of her voice that she was educated and there was a refinement about her that told him she was of gentle birth.

He walked to the grog tray which stood in a corner of the room.

“I think, as you have been through an unpleasant experience,” he said, “that you need a drink. Would you prefer champagne or lemonade?”

“I-I would like a – glass of lemonade – if you please.”

The Duke thought, as he poured it out, it was a choice that he would never have offered to the usual women who sat in this room.

There was something so young about this girl that he had the feeling that she had seldom, if ever, drunk wine.

“Thank you – very much,” she said as he handed her the glass.

He realised as she took it, that her hand was shaking, but he admired the way that she was keeping control over herself.

As he thought that he would seem less frightening, he sat down on a chair opposite her.

“Now tell me what has upset you,” he asked her, “and what Lord Julius Westry has to do with it.”

The girl set her glass down on a table beside her chair and, clasping her hands together as she did so, answered him,

“I feel first – sir – I should – apologise for imposing myself upon you – but I was so – frightened – and all I could think of was – trying to escape from the carriage that had – met me at the – Posting inn at Islington.”

The Duke was aware that this was where the stagecoaches arrived from the North.