The Bargain Bride E-Book

Barbara Cartland

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

Seitenzahl: 205

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

The Bargain Bride is the thrilling tale of beautiful young Aleda, who is brought through no fault of her own from riches to the brink of ruin… Of her dashing but irresponsible brother the Earl of Blakeney whose profligacy has brought him perilously close to debtors' gaol… Of fabulously wealthy Social climber Doran Winton, who cynically buys the unwilling Aleda's hand in marriage along with her brother's debt to rescue them from penury… And of a sinister Chinese cabal who slip from the shadows of London's Dockland opium dens to kidnap Aleda at knifepoint, perhaps to face 'death by a thousand cuts' … Only now, with her life at stake, does she realise that the hate in her heart has turned to love.

Leseprobe

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The young bucks and beaux of the Regency period had not enough to do and so they spent most of their time in gambling, drinking and chasing after pretty ‘Cyprians’ who made the most of the situation.

There were gambling houses all over London and all the St. James’s Clubs had card rooms where their members played for very high stakes.

London was an obvious temptation to any young man when the War against the French was over and he returned to civilian life after suffering hardships in the Duke of Wellington’s Army leading up to the Battle of Waterloo.

Many aristocrats gambled away not only their treasures that were not entailed in their ancestral houses and estates but also property, including streets and squares in London, which today would fetch astronomical figures.

It was difficult not to feel sorry for them in that they were not only foolish and foolhardy but they had a huge pride that carried them successfully through every difficult situation even when they became bankrupt.

The reverence shown in this book by the Chinese for their ancient relics continues to this day and a sacred carving handed down from father to son is worshipped by every member of his family and all of his household.

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1818

The members of White’s Club sitting in the Morning Room looked up in some surprise as the Earl of Blakeney burst through the door.

“For God’s sake fetch me a drink!” he called to one of the Club servants.

Seeing Lord Fulbourne on the other side of the room, he flung himself down in one of the leather chairs beside him.

“I am finished, Charles,” he said. “Completely and utterly finished!”

“I presume,” Charles Fulbourne answered haughtily, “that you have lost your money.”

“I have lost all I own and a damned sight more besides!” the Earl replied. “Unless somebody is ready to bail me out, the next time you see me will be in the Fleet Prison!”

Lord Fulbourne looked at him in surprise.

The way his friend was speaking made it sound just as if his reference to the Fleet Prison was not a joke but a reality.

“How can you have been such a fool again,” he asked in a lowered voice because he now realised that the whole room was listening, “as to play when you know you cannot afford it?”

“It was my only chance to pay off some of my creditors, but now Cayton can go whistle for his money. You cannot get blood from a stone!”

As if the mere mention of his name conjured him up, Lord Anthony Cayton, a tall, good-looking young man, came into the room.

He glanced around, saw the Earl and walked towards him.

“If you think you are going to get away without paying me, Blakeney,” he said angrily, “you are very mistaken! You have welshed on me before, but this time I will have you thrown out of the Club.”

“I will throw myself out,” the Earl retorted.

He rose from his chair as he spoke and then confronted Lord Anthony. The two young men glared at each other like ferocious beasts.

There was now a faint smile on the faces of some of those listening. They seemed to know that the Earl and Lord Anthony had quarrelled a fortnight ago over possession of a very pretty ‘Cyprian’.

That the Earl had won had so infuriated Lord Anthony who had then sworn his revenge.

It did not appease him when he learned that, finding the Earl’s pockets were ‘to let’, the Cyprian had then left him within a week for a rich ‘protector’.

“I am going to call you out,” Lord Anthony informed him aggressively.

“You can call me out until you are blue in the face,” the Earl retorted, “I am going off to the country to see if I have anything saleable left. But I do promise you that any pickings that remain after the tradesmen have got their hands on it will be ‘chicken feed’.”

“If you say very much more,” Lord Anthony replied, “I will knock you down!”

As it seemed that this was exactly what he intended, Lord Fulbourne rose to stand between them and saying,

“Stop it you two! You know as well as I do, Anthony, that David has not a penny to his name.”

He turned to the Earl and went on,

“And so you, David, have no right to gamble when you are well aware that your house is falling around your ears and those who rely on you have not enough to eat.”

The way he spoke made the Earl look slightly shame-faced for a moment or two.

Lord Anthony turned on his heel and, muttering beneath his breath, walked out of the Morning Room.

Lord Fulbourne put his hand on the Earl’s arm.

“Go home, David,” he suggested in a quiet voice. “I have a feeling that things are more desperate than you realise.”

“I know how desperate they are,” the Earl replied, “and the best thing I can do is to blow a piece of lead through my head!”

He left as he spoke and there was a buzz of voices as the members who had been stunned into silence by the drama taking place in front of them, began to discuss it.

Lord Fulbourne sat down again and, as he did so, a man rose from a chair in the corner where he had been reading The Times and sat down next to him.

“My name is ‘Winton’,” he now began. “I knew your father and I have only just returned to England and so I am curious to know what all this fuss is about.”

Lord Fulbourne looked round and realised that this man was someone he had never seen before.

He guessed that he was around thirty-four years of age and had a distinctive presence that gave him an air of authority.

He was also handsome with a distinctive square chin.

But Lord Fulbourne thought that there was something hard about his eyes and the firmness of his mouth.

It was an arresting face and he wondered who the newcomer was and how he had become a member of White’s.

The most exclusive Club, and one of the oldest in London, it was noted for having as its members only the most blue-blooded aristocrats.

It was also harder to get elected to White’s than to any other club in St. James’s.

Because the man opposite him was waiting for an answer to his question, Lord Fulbourne said,

“You heard the Earl of Blakeney is ‘below hatches’ and that is unfortunately the truth. He inherited a large amount of debts when his father died and so he has managed to exist by selling anything that was saleable from his ancestral home.”

He realised that Mr. Winton, if that was his real name, was listening intently and he added,

“I believe his debts have reached such proportions that the tradesmen are forcing the sale of everything that is left.”

“And if he cannot pay them?” the man called Winton asked, “does it really mean he will go to the Debtors’ Prison?”

“It is certainly a possibility,” Lord Fulbourne now admitted. “The tradesmen are tired of gentlemen who live on credit and he was informed a week ago that they intend to take action against him and show him up as an example to other young gentlemen who are so irresponsible.”

Mr. Winton was silent for a moment before he said,

“I think I remember the late Earl.”

“Everyone was indeed very fond of him,” Lord Fulbourne remarked, “but he was a gambler and his children have to suffer the consequences.”

“His – children?” Mr. Winton questioned.

“David has one sister,” Lord Fulbourne replied, “who, if she could have a Season in London, would most undoubtedly be an ‘Incomparable’.”

He paused before he then continued as if choosing his words with care.

“She is very lovely, in fact beautiful is the right word, but, unlike her brother, she is too proud to take what she cannot pay for. She therefore always stays in the country.”

“A sad story,” Mr. Winton said, “and I think I am right in saying that the Earl of Blakeney’s house is in Hertfordshire.”

“Blake Hall is just about twenty-five miles from here,” Lord Fulbourne answered, “and it is there the tradesmen are intending to confront him with their bills.”

He sighed before he added,

“I suppose that those of us who can afford it must turn up and buy something we do not want just for friendship’s sake.”

His reluctance to do anything of the kind was very obvious, and Mr. Winton gave him a penetrating look before he said,

“It is always interesting in such circumstances for a man to see how many real friends he really has.”

There was no doubt that he was speaking cynically.

He rose to his feet as he spoke and then walked back to the chair he had vacated in a corner of the Morning Room.

*

It was late in the afternoon when, driving in a phaeton that he had not paid for and with good horses he had borrowed from a friend, the Earl of Blakeney arrived back at Blake Hall.

As he drove in through gates that needed painting and past lodges that were empty with their windows all boarded up, there was a despairing expression on his face.

As the house came in sight at the end of the drive, it looked, with its mellow bricks that had become an enchanting pale pink over the years, very beautiful.

But, as he drew nearer he could then see broken windows that had not been repaired and the tiles that had fallen from the roof.

Moss, grass and weeds were growing in the cracks in the steps leading up to the front door.

As the Earl drew his horses to a standstill, he shouted at the top of his voice.

It was a sound that echoed round the house until it reached the stables.

An old man with white hair appeared slowly from round the corner and it took him, the Earl thought, an inordinate amount of time to reach the horses’ heads.

“I weren’t expectin’ you, my Lord,” he said in a croaking voice.

“I was not expecting to come,” the Earl replied sharply as he stepped down from the phaeton. “Put the horses in the stable, Glover. They will be collected tomorrow.”

“Very good, my Lord,” Glover replied.

He was grumbling beneath his breath as he led the horses away towards the stable.

The Earl walked in through the front door, which was open.

The hall with its dark oak panelling was too familiar for him to notice the endless dust on the floor or the fine diamond-paned windows that bore the heraldic Coat-of-Arms of the Blakeneys, were both dirty and cracked.

He threw his high hat down on a table that needed polishing and again shouted at the top of his voice,

“Aleda! Aleda!”

There was no reply and he was about to shout again when there was the sound of footsteps.

A moment later his sister came running into the hall.

“David!” she exclaimed, “I was not expecting you.”

Her brother did not reply to her and, standing in front of him as she looked up into his face, she said,

“What has – happened? What is – worrying you?”

“Everything,” the Earl answered. “Is there anything to drink in this dung heap?”

“There is water – or there may be a few coffee beans left.”

The Earl made a sound of disgust and walked across the hall and opened the door into the drawing room.

It was beautifully proportioned with windows looking out on what had once been the Rose Garden.

The furniture, however, was very sparse and uninspiring.

There were marks on the walls where the pictures had been removed and what had obviously been a mirror was gone from the mantelshelf.

Also missing were the Dresden china figures and the Sèvres clock that the Earl well remembered as a child.

He turned to stand with his back to the empty fireplace in which the brass fire-irons had clearly not been polished nor the fire basket had been blackened.

His sister then followed him into the room and now she said apprehensively,

“You had better – tell me the worst – David!”

“Very well,” her brother replied, “my creditors are coming here tomorrow to demand that we sell everything that is left in the house and thinking that they can find a fool to buy the house itself.”

Aleda gave a little cry of horror.

“Surely you – cannot mean – that?”

Her brother did not answer and after a moment she said,

“I always believed that the house was – entailed so that it – could not be – sold.”

“That is what Papa believed,” the Earl replied, “but actually, the ‘entailment’ or whatever that thing is called, lapsed after the seventh Earl died without having a son and, although a cousin inherited, he was not in the direct male line and that broke the entail.”

“I had no – idea of – that,” Aleda said in a low voice.

“If Papa had known it, I am certain that he would have sold the house, lock, stock and barrel!” the Earl said sharply, “and now that is what I have to do.”

His voice was bitter as he continued,

“I cannot imagine that we will get anything for the mess it is in at present and after the War was over, nobody seems to have much money.”

“But, David – what are – you going to – do?” Aleda asked him in a frightened voice.

“If the tradesmen have their way, I shall go to prison!”

She gave a cry of horror.

“Oh – no – not that.”

“They are determined to make an example of someone who they consider has defaulted on them in a major way.”

“Then – what can – we do?” Aleda asked.

“I have not the slightest idea,” her brother replied, “and you know as well as I do, Aleda, there is nothing worth sixpence in the house or I should have sold it long ago.”

“But we must – have a roof over – our heads,” Aleda cried.

“I expect there is a cottage empty somewhere on the estate,” the Earl said thoughtfully, “but, as you know already, they are in a worse state than the house.”

They looked at each other for a moment.

“When I am in prison,” the Earl replied, “you will just have to camp here on your own.”

“That is just – what I am doing anyway,” Aleda answered. “There is only old Betsy left who has nowhere to go and Glover, who is – terrified of being – taken to the – workhouse.”

The Earl threw himself down onto a sofa that had not been sold because it had a leg broken and was therefore propped up on a couple of bricks.

There was silence until he saw the expression on his sister’s face and said in a different tone from the one he had used before,

“I am sorry, Aleda. I know I have made a damned fool of myself, but it is too late to put the clock back now.”

His sister sat down beside him and put her hand over his.

“I well understand, dearest, that after the war, you wanted to enjoy yourself.”

“I don’t suppose that my activities would have made much difference to the position we are now finding ourselves in,” the Earl said, “and now we have to face facts. If I go to prison, you will starve unless somebody looks after you.”

“There is only one man who wishes to do that,” Aleda said.

“I suppose you mean that man, Shuttle.”

“He called on me yesterday and then offered me a house in London with diamonds and a carriage of my own!”

“Curse the man’s damned impertinence,” the Earl swore. “And how dare he insult you?”

“It is hardly an insult,” Aleda said in a low voice, “when he realised that I was hungry and, because I was not expecting him, my gown was in tatters.”

The Earl looked at her sharply.

“You are thinking of accepting his proposition?”

“I would rather die first!”

As she spoke, her voice seemed to ring out.

“He has a wife and children and everything that he does and says makes me feel sick.”

She rose from the sofa and then walked across the room to the window.

“I hate him!” she said. “I hate all men – at the same time – I am – frightened.”

“So am I,” the Earl admitted.

Aleda looked out at the sunshine, which somehow contrived to make the overgrown flowers, the creepers and even the weeds look attractive.

“I was thinking this morning,” she remarked, “that we have but one thing left.”

“And what is that?” her brother enquired.

“Our pride,” Aleda said. “Whatever happens to us, we are Blakes! Our ancestors fought at the Battle of Agincourt. They were Royalists who died at the hands of Oliver Cromwell and our grandfather was one of the best Generals in Marlborough’s Army.”

“A fat lot of good that will do us now,” the Earl exclaimed disparagingly.

“They fought for their lives just as we now have to fight for ours,” Aleda said, “and why should we be – defeated by our – debts?”

She paused as if she expected her brother to say something and, when he was silent, she went on,

“Somehow I feel that however bad it may seem, the ghosts of those who have lived in this house are still fighting beside us. When they died – the family survived – and so must we.”

As she finished speaking, the Earl rose up from the sofa and walked towards her.

He put his arm around her waist, then, as she moved a little nearer to him, he said,

“Tell me what to do, Aleda.”

It was the cry of a small boy who was frightened of the dark and Aleda responded,

“Whatever happens, we will face them with our chins held high and, if you like, defiantly. Even if they take everything we possess, we will still be alive.”

She thought as she spoke that they were already very near to starvation.

For the last month, while her brother had been in London, it was only because Glover had cleverly managed to snare a few rabbits that they had had anything to eat.

There had been pigeons and occasionally duck or game until the gunpowder ran out and they had been unable to afford to buy any more.

But there was still a few early vegetables in the garden to go with the rabbits.

“You are very brave, Aleda,” the Earl said, “and I only hope that I shall live up to your expectations.”

“Just remember you are a Blake,” Aleda commented, “and, when these people come – they will then see for themselves – the position we are in.”

The Earl did not speak, but she knew he was thinking that the shopkeepers would not go back to London empty-handed.

They would take him with them.

So he would rot away in the Fleet Prison unless by a miracle somebody bought the house and the estate at a price which was enough to let him go free.

“The best thing I could do,” he said aloud, “is to put a bullet through my head.”

Aleda turned on him angrily,

“That would be a cowardly thing to do.”

There was a little sob in her voice as she went on,

“You are all the family that I have left. Our relatives never approved of Papa – and they now don’t – approve of you. We have to support each other – David and I – cannot be alone.”

The Earl drew in his breath.

“There must be someone besides that swine Shuttle,” Aleda laughed.

“Do you really think there is any chance of me meeting men here? I could hardly invite them to the house when we cannot afford any sort of hospitality.”

“Now you are making me feel ashamed,” the Earl protested. “I know I have been ungrateful and selfish and I should have thought of you instead of enjoying myself in London.”

“I understood,” Aleda said, “and when you came back after the War – I was – only seventeen.”

“Now you are nearly nineteen,” the Earl remarked, “and you are lovely, Aleda. If I could have taken you to London, I know that you would have had a dozen proposals of marriage.”

“That is the last thing I want,” Aleda said. “I have told you that – I hate men. If only we had just a little money, I would be completely happy here with the – horses and dogs.”

“You are just talking to me like that because of Shuttle’s dirty suggestions,” her brother said angrily. “How did he ever get to meet you in the first place?”

Aleda gave a little laugh.

“He was out hunting and his horse cast a shoe and, seeing how impressive Blake Hall looked from a distance, he came to see if we employed a blacksmith.”

The Earl laughed as if he could not help it.

“It must have given him a big surprise when he saw that the stables were falling to the ground.”

“He saw me,” Aleda corrected him, “And that was enough. Ever since he has not left me alone and I have to hide every time I see him – coming up – the drive.”

“Curse him! I should have thrown him out a long time ago.”

“At first you welcomed the wine he brought you.”

“I had no idea that he was asking you to be his mistress!”

“There is nothing else that he can offer me, but if he was a widower, I would still not accept his money – or him. I hate – him! He makes me creep – and the last present he – gave me I threw into the back of his – carriage as he – drove away.”

“What was it?” the Earl asked.

“A diamond bracelet, I think, from what he said, but I did not open the case.”

She knew without her saying anything more that her brother was thinking that the diamonds would have at the least paid off some of his debts.

“Remember you are a Blake,” she said sharply again, “and if we do go down – we go down with all flags flying and our – heads – unbowed!”

*

Later in the evening, after they had eaten a very frugal meal of rabbit with a few vegetables, Aleda made the Earl open up the Banqueting Hall.

They arranged the few chairs that were left at the end of it under the Minstrels’ Gallery.

“We will receive our guests here,” she said, “and you will tell them exactly the position that we are now in.”

She saw that her brother was about to refuse and she said,

“You are not to be humble, merely frank and honest.”

“Why should I be that?” the Earl asked her sullenly.

“Because there is no point in being rude or secretive,” Aleda said. “Be frank and you should also say that you are sorry that you are so much in their debt. If you are pleasant, they might not be so vindictive as to send you to prison.”

She saw that the Earl was not convinced and so she went on,

“We have nothing at all to lose by being polite and you will certainly not be able to find work if you are behind bars.”

“Work!” the Earl exclaimed. “What do you mean – work?”

“There must be something that you can do,” Aleda queried. “Have you ever thought of counting your talents?”

“I have none.”

“That is nonsense! We all have talents of some sort. I have been trying to think how saleable mine are.”

“Saleable?” the Earl questioned suspiciously.

“Not to some man who only wants me for my pretty face,” Aleda snapped. “I was thinking that I might become a teacher of some sort. I have been fairly well educated, I can play the piano, I can paint in water colours and, of course, I can ride.”

She gave a little cry.

“That is what you can do, David.”

“Ride? Of course I can ride. What do you mean?”

“I remember how you told me that the Duke of Wellington was very impressed when you won the Steeplechase that he had arranged for the Officers in the Army of Occupation.”

“That is true,” the Earl replied, “but I cannot see how I can make money like that.”

“Supposing we persuaded one of your friends to help you?” Aleda said. “If you could break in horses that you bought cheap, and then you could sell them for perhaps a good sum.”

For a moment her brother’s expression seemed to lighten a little and then he answered,

“I can hardly think that what we will get for selling just one horse or even half-a-dozen will do more than pay for our food. It would be a mere drop in the ocean compared to what I owe!”

Aleda bit back the words that came at once to her lips and after a moment she said gently,

“We have to show the people who are prosecuting you that you are – prepared to – try to pay your – debts.”

“Very well, have it your own way. I can only hope that by some extraordinary stroke of luck we may be successful.”