Desire in the Desert

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1895-2

He scanned the invitations that he had received to balls and even pheasant shoots.

He knew that nine out of ten of the hosts and hostesses had an unmarried daughter who they felt would grace the Pevel jewels.

Fastidious where women were concerned, the Marquis chose the most beautiful women in London to bestow his favours on.

They were very attractive indeed and he also spent a great deal of his time in Paris with the courtesans of the Belle Epoque.

Their beauty, their extravagance, their fascination and their expertise made him think cynically that they were unique.

In his eyes they were certainly preferable to the boredom of a conventional wife.

Naturally, because he was unlike other men and so obviously discriminating, he had a magnetic attraction for women.

That he was generous went without saying and that he was an ardent and exceptional lover was whispered about from beauty to beauty.

Women seemed to feel the temperature rising when he came into a room.

‘I am very lucky,’ the Marquis would often admit to himself.

‘At the same time,’ he added, ‘because I am alone and free!’

But nobody’s life is without problems and his cousins Julius and Nigel, he thought now, were a continual worry.

His Uncle Lionel had died when the two sons were at school and their mother had only lived for a short time after him.

They had lived with a relative who had made it very clear to the Marquis that he was their Guardian and must be responsible for them.

He had accepted this with good grace and he had seen to it that the boys were looked after and spent their holidays whenever they wished at Peverell Park.

It was only now when Julius had turned twenty-five and Nigel twenty-three that he was finding them an encumbrance.

They had refused him when he had wanted them to go into a Regiment, a large number of the family having served both in the Grenadiers and in the Household Cavalry.

Instead, after they had both been up at Oxford University and got into quite a lot of trouble whilst there, they had become what was called ‘gentlemen about town’.

This unfortunately had meant that they spent their time going from Racecourse to Racecourse and gambling table to boudoir.

Every social hostess included them on her invitation list.

They were both good-looking, they could ride well and drive a four-in-hand without being what was known as ‘cow-fisted’.

But the Marquis knew, if he was truthful, that both his cousins were wasters and relied entirely on his money to provide them with the amusements that filled their days.

He had quite recently given a great deal of thought to what he should do about them, but had come to no conclusion.

They had a small amount of money left them by their father, who had not been a rich man.

But the Marquis had an uncomfortable feeling that they were determined to continue their life of luxury at his expense.

Without ever considering that he might have something more productive to do, he thought now that, at twenty-five years old, it was time that Julius married.

He was sure that there were any number of charming young women of good family only too pleased to be affiliated to his own.

The frown between his eyes increased and he rose from the desk to go and talk to his cousins.

Like most old houses, the rooms of Peverell Park, which were magnificent, had communicating doors that led from one room to another.

There was therefore no need for the Marquis to go out into the passageway to reach the library.

He went from his study into an ante-room that was known as the ‘Rembrandt Room’ because of the large number of pictures by that artist hanging on the walls.

Another door led him into the Blue Drawing Room.

There his mother had collected together a number of pictures by Gainsborough.

A portrait of a young Pevel in a blue suit over the mantelpiece was responsible for the name of the room.

The curtains were blue and the Aubusson carpet was woven with blue ribbons.

As the Marquis walked through the door, he could still smell the fragrance of the perfume that his mother wore and which had the freshness of spring about it.

Then as he was about to open the door that led into the library, he heard Nigel’s voice and paused.

“Whatever you do, make the old boy cough up,” he said.

“He will have to,” Julius replied. “I cannot get any more from the usurers on the chance of him not getting married. They say he is too young and so there is every possibility that he will change his mind.”

The Marquis stiffened.

He had his hand on the handle of the door, but he made no effort to walk into the library.

“Well, we will be in a nice mess if he turns nasty!” Nigel said.

“Don’t be so stupid!” his brother answered. “Cousin Druce would not want any sort of scandal in the family. Besides, as his Heir Presumptive, it is traditional for him to support me.”

“Suppose he does marry?” Nigel queried.

There was a moment’s silence and then Julius said,

“Then we will just have to drop him accidentally in the lake or find a horse to throw him in the same way that his wife died.”

There was silence for a moment and then Nigel replied,

“I was not going to tell you, but I think there is something you ought to know.”

“What is that?” Julius asked sharply.

“I went to see Crabtree, Papa’s Solicitor, the other day.”

“What about?”

“I wanted to find out if our deceased uncle, the old Marquis, had made any provision in his will for Papa that we have not heard about.”

“And had he?” Julius enquired.

“No,” Nigel replied, “but Crabtree told me that over half of the fortune of the reigning Marquis of Peverell is entailed over to his eldest son, while the rest, which is a very considerable amount, is free to go to anyone he fancies.”

“Good God!” Julius exclaimed. “Do you really mean to say that members of the family have no legal claim on it?”

“None at all.” Nigel answered. “Which he said was unusual in great families, but it is what the Peverells have done all through the centuries.”

“I have never heard anything so damnable!” Julius said. “Do you really mean that Cousin Druce could cut us off without a penny if he wishes to do so?”

“That is what Crabtree explained to me and he is supposed to be one of the best Solicitors in London.”

“Well, all I can say is, if the Founder of the family set up this preposterous idea, I hope he rots in his grave!” Julius spluttered.

“He will have by this time,” Nigel replied, “and actually it has been worrying me. I am finding Betsy very expensive. In fact, like most of her profession, she has a craving for jewels!”

“There is no reason for you to complain,” Julius replied. “My little ‘soiled dove’ has asked me for a carriage and two new horses. She says those she has are not smart enough for Rotten Row.”

“I can only hope that Cousin Druce is ready to pay for them,” Nigel remarked.

The Marquis decided that he had already heard enough.

He opened the door and walked into the library.

His cousins, elegantly but in his opinion overdressed, were sprawling on the red damask sofas that were arranged on either side of the very fine marble mantelpiece.

Above it there was an exceptionally fine picture by Stubbs of three horses.

For a moment neither of them moved as the Marquis came into the room.

Then Nigel sprang to his feet and said in an ingratiating way that was very different from the way he had spoken to his brother,

“Good morning, Cousin Druce. How delightful to see you. It is far too long since we have had the pleasure of doing so.”

“Good morning, Nigel. Good morning, Julius,” the Marquis replied, “I feel you must have left London surprisingly early to get here before luncheon.”

Julius smiled and the Marquis thought that, as a woman might find it irresistible, his eyes were more revealing.

He knew that he was calculating how much he could extract from him.

“I am, of course, delighted to offer you luncheon,” he went on. “It will be ready almost immediately, but I cannot help thinking that you have another reason for coming to see me, apart from the fact that you will enjoy an excellent meal.”

There was silence and then, as the two brothers looked at each other, he added,

“If it is a question of money, let me tell you in advance that it is quite impossible for either of you to have any more this year than I have already given to you.”

“But – Cousin Druce – !” Julius began, only to be silenced as the Marquis held up his hand.

“As I have explained to you the last time, you are not the only members of the family I have to support. As you are aware, or you should be, there are some elderly ladies like our grandmother who are constantly in need of the best medical attention.”

He paused and added,

“There are also a number of cousins, just like yourselves, who have to be provided for.”

“We understand that,” Julius said quickly. “At the same time we are both in a very difficult situation at the moment and I feel sure, Cousin Druce, you would not like our debts to become public knowledge.”

He threw out his hand in a theatrical gesture as he finished,

“But it will undoubtedly happen if my tailor and coachbuilder decide to make themselves unpleasant.”

“I am afraid that is your business and not mine,” the Marquis said coldly. “I have been thinking, Julius, that the best thing you could possibly do would be to give up your life of unceasing gaiety and settle down.”

Julius stared at him in astonishment.

“Are you suggesting I should – get married?”

“Of course,” the Marquis said. “And I think you would both be happier if you lived in the country. It would certainly prove a great deal cheaper than the endless temptations of London.”

“You can hardly set yourself up as an advocate of marriage,” Julius remarked rather impertinently. “You yourself are an avowed bachelor.”

The Marquis laughed lightly.

“It is not only the prerogative of the women to change their minds.”

There was a stunned silence.

“Are you – saying,” Nigel enquired in a voice that seemed to tremble, “that you are – thinking of – marrying again?”

“Shall I say I am considering it,” the Marquis said, “but there is no hurry, except that if I decide to ‘take the plunge’ it will make our grandmother a very happy woman.”

He would have been extremely obtuse if he had not realised that he had struck a blow which had drained the colour from both his cousins’ faces.

They were prevented, however, from expressing the words of horror that were very evident in their eyes because the library door opened and the butler announced,

“Luncheon is served, my Lord.”

“Thank you,” the Marquis said. “Now come along, you two, I rode a long way this morning, so I am feeling extremely hungry as I am sure you both are as well.”

He then walked ahead of the two young men, aware as they followed him that they were shocked to the point where they had not the slightest idea what they could do about it.

Luncheon was a meal at which the Marquis ate hungrily and talked good-humouredly.

His guests picked at their food and were almost silent. Only when they left the dining room did the Marquis pause before they reached the hall to say,

“I hope you will excuse me if I now say ‘goodbye’, but I have so much to do before I leave for London later in the afternoon.”