Little Tongues of Fire

Chapter One ~ 1875-1

Chapter One ~ 1875“I am damned if I will marry anyone!” Lord Edgar Quary trumpeted furiously.

He jumped up as he spoke, and walked to the window to stand with his back to the room.

There was silence until the Duke said,

“The alternative is not very attractive.”

“What is it?” Lord Edgar asked.

“If you will not marry as I have suggested, the only thing I will do is pay your bills for the last and final time, which is what I said before, on condition that you live abroad.”

The Duke paused before he went on,

“I will give you one thousand pounds a year as long as you never come back to England.”

There was silence, a silence that seemed somehow to vibrate between the two brothers.

Then Lord Edgar replied,

“That is, of course, impossible and intolerable, as you well know!”

“Then I advise you,” the Duke said quietly, “to marry Miss Wallace, who has just inherited a fortune of well over half a million pounds.”

His younger brother did not speak and the Duke continued,

“It is quite an exciting and unusual story, if you are interested.”

There was still silence from Lord Edgar and the Duke, seeing that he was prepared to listen, said,

“The girl’s father, General Wallace, who served as a soldier in India for twenty years before he was killed on the North-West Frontier, apparently saved the Maharajah of Kulhapur’s life.”

As if he could not help himself from listening to what he was being told, Lord Edgar turned round and in a disdainful manner sat down on the window seat.

The Maharajah, his brother went on, “was so grateful that, when he died about four months ago, he left General Wallace, apparently unaware that he was dead, part of his immense fortune and, I believe, some exceptional jewels.”

He paused and looked across the room at Lord Edgar and, because he thought that he appeared to be interested, he remarked in a dry cynical tone,

“It will undoubtedly take you some time to spend all that amount!”

There was an expression of fury on Edgar’s handsome face and he clenched his fists as if he longed to strike his brother.

Instead, he said bitingly,

“You have it all nicely tied up, have you not, Alveric? I should have thought, with all your pompous appreciation of the Family Tree, that you would resent having it sullied by what is obviously a family of plebeian snobs.”

He spoke in a rude and insulting way, but the Duke’s expression did not change.

There had been a look of contempt in his grey eyes ever since his brother had arrived from London for an interview that was bound to be unpleasant for both of them.

Now the cynical lines on his face seemed to deepen as he said,

“If that really perturbs you, it will gratify you to know that the Wallaces are an old Scottish family who have attained distinction in the Army generation after generation.”

“I suppose I should be pleased about that,” Lord Edgar responded, still in a rude tone of voice.

“General Sir Alexander Wallace,” the Duke continued, “has received a number of medals for bravery in combat and was, I am told, much respected by his Regiment and is well spoken of in the County.”

“Does he want my title for his niece,” Lord Edgar snapped, “or is it Miss Wallace’s ambition to be affiliated to a Duke?”

“I believe,” the Duke replied, “that the idea came from the girl’s aunt, who is the General’s second wife and much younger than he. As you say, it will be an advantage to them all to be affiliated to the Dukedom of Quarington.”

Lord Edgar laughed and it was not a particularly pleasant sound.

“So, to achieve a position in the highest Society, they are prepared to accept the black sheep of the family, who, of course, is me!”

The Duke rose from his chair and stood with his back to the fireplace.

He was a very good-looking man. The two brothers would have been outstanding in any gathering, even if no one had known who they were.

The Duke was a few inches taller than his brother and, although he habitually looked bored and cynical, it did not detract from his appearance in the same way as did the lines of debauchery on Lord Edgar’s face. They were just beginning to appear, even though he was three years younger than the Duke.

The life he lived in London had made him less athletic than his brother and his waistline was considerably larger.

The Quarys were known for their handsome men and ambitious Mamas had tried for years to ensnare the Head of the Family.

The Duke had, however, stated a long time ago that he had no intention of marrying and, at thirty-four, was adroit enough to avoid every type of bait and trap that was set for him.

He was, nevertheless, very conscious of his responsibilities as the Head of one of the most respected Families in the Kingdom.

He had struggled for years to try to force his younger brother to curb his extravagance and refrain from adding to his already raffish reputation.

But Lord Edgar would listen to no one. He led a life of wild and unrestrained luxury, giving parties that were the delight of every sponger and ‘soiled dove’ in the whole of London.

He raced horses that never won and lost astronomical amounts on ridiculous bets. His behaviour caused amusement and speculation in the Clubs of St. James’s.

However, when the Duke was presented with the bills, he realised that he could not go on forever financing his brother’s spendthrift ways.

He had emphasised repeatedly,

“I am responsible not only for you, Edgar, but for every member of our family.”

“And how you enjoy it,” Lord Edgar countered sarcastically.

“It is not particularly enjoyable to see our alms houses falling into disrepair, our schools needing more teachers, our Clergymen complaining that their stipends are too low and our relations being put on ‘short commons’ – just to finance you!”

“By God, Alveric,” Lord Edgar expostulated, “you talk as if you were down to your last penny. You know as well as I do that you are a very rich man with endless treasures in every house you possess.”

“Treasures that are only in trust for the generations that come after me.”

“Are you worrying about the son you do not have?” Lord Edgar asked mockingly.

The Duke did not deign to answer.

He knew his brother was well aware that the pictures and furniture were all entailed for his successors just as they had been for him when he had inherited the Dukedom.

He had paid thousands upon thousands of pounds during the last few years to his brother’s creditors and he had known for some time that eventually there must be a curb to his extravagance.

The opportunity had come quite unexpectedly. To the Duke’s surprise, General Sir Alexander Wallace and his wife had called on him one day after he had arrived home from London.

Although he had met the General on one or two formal occasions, the Wallaces were not on the list of neighbours whom he invited to his dinner parties. Nor did they attend the intimate gatherings that took place frequently at his ancestral home.

He supposed, although he was not sure, that they were included in the Garden Party which he traditionally gave every year, just as his father and his grandfather had done before him.

At these parties there was a large marquee on one of the lawns and a band playing, while the guests wandered round the terraces admiring the water garden and the flowerbeds and some playing bowls on the bowling green.

Some would spend an hour or so drawing a bow, for archery butts were always in evidence.

The Duke would welcome his guests, and then stroll among the crowd talking to this person and that. He was often uncertain of their names or if he had ever met them before.

He had, of course, agreed to see the General when he was told that he and his wife were at the front door.

When they were shown into the drawing room, he wondered if they had come to solicit his help for some charity or good cause that he was not already engaged in.

There was a great many of these and his secretary kept a long list of those that he contributed generously to each year.

He thought after he had shaken hands with the General that he looked his age and that he seemed slightly embarrassed.

His second wife, however, seemed, very much at her ease and cast the Duke the admiring and flirtatious glances that he was well accustomed to.

They sat down, the Duke offering them some refreshment, which they politely refused.

Then, after an awkward silence, the General cleared his throat and began,

“Your Grace must be a little surprised to see us and perhaps what we have to say may come as an even greater surprise.”

The Duke inclined his head but did not speak and the General went on,

“I have heard from a number of sources, which I need not disclose at this point, that your brother, Lord Edgar, is in some financial difficulty.”

The Duke stiffened.

He resented an outsider speaking of what he thought should be an entirely family affair.

He could only wonder how it was possible that Edgar, unpredictable though he undoubtedly was, should owe money to the General.

“I have heard in fact,” the General continued, “that Lord Edgar is talking of disposing of his horses and that several pictures of family interest are up for sale at Christie’s.”

The Duke’s lips tightened.

He thought furiously that if Edgar were selling any pictures, they were not his, but belonged to the family collection. He had only been lent them for his house in London.

The General had stopped speaking and the Duke said in a voice that was deliberately aloof and cold,

“You, General, are obviously better informed than I am about my brother, but I will, of course, make the necessary enquiries to find out if what you tell me is correct.”

“I don’t think you will discover that I have misled Your Grace,” the General said. “My wife, however, has a solution to Lord Edgar’s problem.”

The Duke raised his eyebrows.

Then, as if she could not remain silent any longer, Lady Wallace said,

“It seems so sad that anyone as handsome as Lord Edgar should be in such dire straits. My friend, Lady Farringham, whom I think you know, tells me that she is really sorry for the poor young man not knowing where the next penny is coming from.”

It was with the greatest difficulty that the Duke repressed a desire to tell Lady Wallace to mind her own business.

But only four months before he had paid his brother’s debts, which had amounted to nearly thirty thousand pounds.

Then Edgar had sworn to him by everything he held sacred that he would be more careful in future.

“What my husband and I would like to suggest,” Lady Wallace went on, “would not only be of assistance to Your Grace, but also to ourselves.”

The Duke looked puzzled and she said,

“I suppose you have heard of my husband’s brother. Colonel David Wallace, who was awarded the Distinguished Service Order for his brilliant exploits in India before he was killed on the North-West Frontier?”

“Yes, I have, of course, heard of him,” the Duke replied.

He was not particularly interested, he thought, however, it was the only polite thing to say.

“Well, apparently,” Lady Wallace went on, “my brother-in-law in some skirmish or other, which they always appear to be having in India, saved the life of the Maharajah of Kulhapur. He did not tell us anything about it at the time, but three months ago the Maharajah died of some Oriental disease.”

The Duke, wondering what all this had to do with him or Edgar, forced himself to look attentive.

“You can imagine our astonishment,” Lady Wallace continued, “when we learned that my husband’s niece, Vina, who is our Ward and has been living with us since her father’s death, has now inherited such an enormous sum of money. It should have gone to her father had he been alive. We can hardly credit that we are not dreaming!”

Lady Wallace paused for breath and the General interjected,

“The Maharajah was one of the richest men in India, He left my brother well over half a million pounds and jewellery that might have come from Aladdin’s cave.”