The Magnificent Marriage

Chapter One ~ 1879The Earl of Alderburne looked up from the letter he was holding in his hand with an expression of delight in his eyes. “It has come, Elizabeth!” he exclaimed. The Countess, seated at the other end of the breakfast table, glanced at him in surprise. “What has?” she enquired. “The letter from Kirby. Dammit all, you know I have been expecting it for weeks!” “Yes, of course, Hugo, and very disagreeable it has made you. What does he say?” The Earl consulted the letter once again and there was no doubt that he was delighted with every word he read. Finally he said, “He asks that Letty should travel to Singapore next month on the P. & O. Liner, The Osaka.” “To Singapore?” The exclamation was almost a scream and Lady Lettice Burne, sitting at the table, put down the cup she was holding with a hand that trembled. “To – Singapore, Papa?” she repeated. “No – no – I cannot – do that!” “Now, Letty,” her father said soothingly, “we have discussed this before. You promised me that you were looking forward to marrying Maximus Kirby.” “Not in – Singapore, Papa. You said he would come – here. Besides – that was a – long time ago.” The words ended in a dismal whisper and now Lady Lettice’s large blue eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to – marry him, Papa. I don’t want to – marry – anyone.” “That is ridiculous, Letty, as well you know,” the Countess interposed. Although her voice was quite sharp, her eyes were apprehensive as they rested on her younger daughter. “But, Letty, when Maximus Kirby came here,” the Earl said, speaking in a voice one might use to a small child, “you found him very agreeable.” “He brought me the – little parrots,” Letty replied, her voice still trembling, “and I thought that was – kind of him. But I don’t want to – marry him and I will not go – away from home. I want to stay with – you, Papa.” The Earl’s eyes rested on his daughter’s face with an almost comical expression of dismay. He could not bear tears and he always found it difficult to refuse anything Letty asked of him. She was so lovely and the Earl had an appreciation of pretty women wherever he might find them. There was no doubt that Lady Lettice Burne was outstandingly beautiful. Her fair hair was like sunshine. Her pink-and-white complexion was flawless, her blue eyes fringed with dark lashes and her rosebud mouth would have been the delight of any artist. It might have been expected that Lady Lettice would have been the toast, if not of London Society, at least of all the eligible young gentlemen in the County. But while they flocked to her side the first moment she appeared, they most unaccountably soon turned away in search of less beautiful but more interesting young women. Therefore after her first Season in London, the Earl, who was an intelligent man, faced the fact that his younger daughter was not likely to make the brilliant marriage that he had envisaged for her. There was always the hope, of course, that some elderly Peer would find her exquisite face a compensation for the almost infantile state of her intelligence, but at the moment he was not in evidence. “It is not only that Letty has nothing to say but she does not appear even to listen,” the Earl said to his wife after one ball, when, towards the end of the evening, he had noticed a singular lack of partners for the beautiful Lettice. “I know, Hugo,” the Countess had replied, “and I have explained to her over and over again that men expect a woman to concentrate on them, to listen to what they have to say and to laugh at their jokes.” “What the hell does she think about?” the Earl asked. “Really, your language, Hugo!” the Countess exclaimed. “I apologise, my dear. At the same time you must admit, it is exasperating. No one could be lovelier than Letty and I was looking forward to having a rich son-in-law.” The Countess sighed. There was no denying that they had all been counting on it. Alderburne Park was mortgaged up to the hilt. Their debts mounted year after year and it seemed in fact that the only real asset they possessed was Lettice’s unrivalled beauty. Then, when they had returned to the country and the Earl was most volubly resenting the expense that the London Season had cost him, Maximus Kirby had appeared. At first the Earl had not thought of him as a prospective son-in-law. Kirby had been introduced to him at White’s Club by a fellow Peer who said in a voice that he thought to be sotto voce, but which vibrated round the morning room, “I have just the fellow for you, Alderburne. Wants to buy horses to take back East. As rich as Croesus and prepared to pay exorbitant prices for anything that takes his fancy!” This the Earl found was not quite true. Maximus Kirby was by no means the dupe he had supposed from what his friend had told him. He was certainly extremely wealthy, but he was shrewd enough to expect value for his money. Whilst he was prepared to pay over the odds for the Earl’s best horses, he swept aside with a wave of his hand those that were not of top class quality. The Earl had invited him to Alderburne Park to see the horses. It was the Countess who put the idea into her husband’s head that Maximus Kirby was not only a very rich man but entirely presentable. “I will say one thing,” the Earl said to his wife, “Kirby may not be blue-blooded, but he is certainly well born. In fact he would pass anywhere for a gentleman.” “He is a gentleman,” the Countess said firmly, “and, if he is slightly eccentric or perhaps one might say a trifle flamboyant through living so long in the East, that does not make him in any way a less desirable party.” “Are you suggesting – ?” the Earl asked half-incredulously. “I saw him looking at Letty last night after dinner,” the Countess related. “I think, Hugo, you will find that he will offer for her before he leaves.” “But Letty would have to live abroad!” the Earl exclaimed. “Kirby has huge estates, so I am told, in Malaya.” “Since the Suez Canal was opened ten years ago,” the Countess replied, “it does not now take nearly so long to reach the East. Why, Lord Avon was saying only last week that one can now get to India in twenty-five days!” “He is certainly presentable,” the Earl muttered slowly and he was not speaking of Lord Avon. “I found him delightful,” the Countess offered. There was no doubt that Mr. Kirby had a firm ally in Letty’s mother. What woman had ever been able to resist that strange, buccaneering raffish charm which gives a man who has it an indefinable fascination? Besides the fact that women were automatically drawn to him, Maximus Kirby was also a sportsman, which made him popular with his own s*x. He had, it was true, an audacity that made many jealous husbands and lovers grit their teeth, but he was also good-mannered, appreciative and his vivid magnetic personality seemed to bring to Alderburne Park a breath of fresh air that had been lacking before he came to stay. He bought not only the Earl’s best horses, he also made an offer, which was eagerly accepted, for several pictures, a Queen Anne lacquered cabinet and a number of books from the library that the Earl had not even glanced at since he had inherited his title. Only Dorinda, when Mr. Kirby had left, noted the empty shelves with a feeling of dismay, because she knew that they would never be filled again. It was to Dorinda, sitting on the other side of the breakfast table, that Letty appealed now with misty eyes and lips that trembled. “You know, Dorinda – that I cannot – marry,” she said in soft child-like tones. “Make Papa understand that I don’t – like men. They – frighten me.” ‘Mr. Kirby is different,” Dorinda answered. “Think how kind he was in giving you those pretty little parakeets and I am sure that when you go to Singapore you can have a whole aviary of exotic birds. How exciting that would be.” “I would like an aviary – here,” Lettice murmured. “It’s too cold for them, they would die. Even the parakeets shiver however near the fire we put them.” Dorinda’s voice was firm, but at the same time beguiling. Yet Lettice with her blue eyes fixed on her sister’s face only looked a picture of beauty in distress. She was one of the few people who looked directly at Dorinda. It was perhaps because she was lost in her own thoughts that she did not see her sister’s face as others did. It would have been noticeable to anyone watching the family at the breakfast table that the Earl, even when he spoke to his elder daughter, did not look straight at her. Dorinda by this time was used to people staring in another direction when they addressed her. Nearly twenty-one she had accepted the fact that she would never marry. At the same time it was hard to hear Lettice, who was so beautiful, affirming as she did so often that she was frightened of men. Dorinda seldom had a chance of conversation with any man other than her father or the servants. Ever since childhood she had suffered from a disfiguring skin complaint that covered her face, her arms and her legs with unsightly scaly patches. It was easy to hide her wrists, which at times looked almost raw and, of course, her legs. But there was nothing that anyone could do about the horror of her upper lip or the great patches, red and peeling, which permanently disfigured her forehead and her chin. At first the doctors the Countess took her to declared that it was only a symptom of adolescence. “Many girls have bad complexions at that age,” they said and prescribed a number of creams and lotions that did nothing to heal and usually increased the irritation. When Dorinda was seventeen, the Countess was frantic. It was time to arrange for Dorinda’s presentation at Court, for her to have a Season in London and for them to host a ball for her at Alderburne Park. Yet what was the use of wasting money on a girl who people winced away from, if not in disgust certainly in pity? There were also a number of those who suspected that the complaint was infectious, an idea that the doctors declared was ridiculous. “But how can we tell people it is not catching?” Dorinda asked, “unless I wear a placard saying so?” There had been nothing anyone could do and in the end it was Dorinda who decided that she had no intention of forcing herself upon a Society that did not want her. “Just forget about me, Mama,” she said to her mother, “and save your money for Letty. She is going to be lovely, as we all know, and nothing you do can make me look anything but horrible!” It was true, although the Countess did not wish to admit it. Pretty dresses and elaborate bonnets only seemed to accentuate Dorinda’s deformity and so in the end they all accepted the inevitable. Dorinda stayed at home and seldom left Alderburne Park except to look after Letty who clung to her sister and could seldom be persuaded to go anywhere without her. Dorinda’s tact, or perhaps her shyness in not forcing herself upon people who did not want her, became a habit that in time everyone took for granted. She often had to escort Letty to the very door of a party or a ballroom, because otherwise she would not go. Then unnoticed Dorinda would vanish. She became expert at running Alderburne Park, without being seen when people came to stay. Sometimes she used to tell herself with a wry smile that she was like one of the ghosts that were supposed to haunt the Grand Staircase and the West wing. But, unlike the ghosts, Dorinda was extremely useful. “Oh, leave it to Dorinda!” the Earl would say. “She knows what I require.” “You will have to ask Lady Dorinda about the menu, chef,” the Countess would remark. “You know I can never remember the names of these new-fangled dishes.” “I want Dorinda. Where is Dorinda? I want her,” Letty would whine. Only Dorinda could coax her into a good mood, get her downstairs in time for dinner or arrange her hair so skilfully that there was never any need to employ a professional hairdresser.