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Authors: Barbara Cartland

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BOOK: 108. An Archangel Called Ivan
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“I told you that this was a private matter between you and me. I have had my father’s instructions as to what to do and you must now take mine that it is a matter of complete secrecy and you must make sure that Mr. Walton does not talk about it to anyone else.”

“But I don’t think,” the Bank Manager said, “that this very large sum can be paid without the support and assurance of your Trustees that the sum would be returned within a certain amount of time and naturally I must have their authority to do what you ask.”

There was silence for a moment.

Then Arliva said slowly and in a positive way that made every word seem important,

“I don’t think, Mr. Carter, that you have read my father’s will very carefully. He gave me complete control of my money when I was eighteen, saying that, as I have the brain and intelligence of any man of twenty-one, he intended to grant me exactly the same rights as if I had become of age.”

Again there was silence.

Then the Bank Manager said,

“I do remember that, Miss Ashdown, but I do think it is a very large sum which you are giving away without apparently any chance of making it clear that it must be returned.”

“What I have obviously not made clear,” Arliva insisted, “is that the money is a gift and it comes from my father, who naturally cannot be thanked and I am not to be mentioned in the transaction in any way.”

The Bank Manager put his hand up to his head and scratched it.

“I cannot understand why you are doing this,” he said at length.

“There is no need for you to understand it,” Arliva replied, “you just have to carry out my wishes.”

“I must have support,” the Bank Manager protested.

“Why?” Arliva questioned. “I have pointed out that the money is mine to do with as I wish. Or rather in this case to do as my father wished.”

There was a pause.

As the Bank Manager did not speak, she continued,

“Of course, Mr. Carter, I also have the power, if necessary, to change my bank.”

The Bank Manager then drew in his breath and for a brief moment his face seemed to go white.

Then unexpectedly he laughed.

“Forgive me, Miss Ashdown,” he said, “but you spoke so like your father at that moment that I almost felt that he was sitting opposite me. Of course I do understand that you are within your rights, but, as you are so young, I feel you don’t realise what a large sum of money this is to be disposed of perhaps without thought.”

“That is where you are wrong,” Arliva asserted. “I have thought this over very carefully. I want to help as I know my father would have done.”

There was another silence and then she added,

“Are you ready to do what I ask or must I go elsewhere?”

The Bank Manager laughed again.

“You know quite well that you are bullying me into a submission over which I have no power, as you pointed out, Miss Ashdown, to do anything else but to obey your instructions.”

Arliva smiled.

“I thought you would see sense. I will sign the papers, which I am sure you want me to do. I also want one thousand pounds in cash for myself.”

“Now that sounds very sensible,” he said. “I have read in the newspapers that you are the best dressed and smartest young lady in the whole of London.”

“I like to think they are speaking the truth,” Arliva smiled. “But now let me have the papers and your word of honour that you will not discuss this with anyone else.”

The Bank Manager only seemed to hesitate for a moment before he assured her,

“You now have my word, Miss Ashdown, that the transaction is between you and me. Mr. Charles Walton, who is a very lucky man, will be informed as you have asked me, that the money comes from your father because he and Mr. Walton’s father were very good friends.”

“That is exactly what I want you to say and no more please,” Arliva agreed.

The Bank Manager sent for the papers for her to sign and also for the one thousand pounds she had asked for herself.

When she rose to leave, he said,

“If you will allow me to say, Miss Ashdown, that you are a remarkable young lady. Of course I might have expected your father, who was the most brilliant man I ever met, to have produced you.”

“I am sure, like everyone else, you are thinking it’s a great pity I was not a boy!” Arliva said.

The Bank Manager laughed as if he could not help it.

“I suppose quite a number of people have thought that when they realised how bright you are,” he replied.

“I imagine that they were really thinking it’s a great mistake for a woman to have too much responsibility, but so far with your help everything has run smoothly and I am very grateful.”

Arliva held out her hand and the Bank Manager took it.

“All I can say, Miss Ashdown, is that your father would be proud of you, especially if he read of the praise and admiration you are receiving in the Social columns of the newspapers.”

“I have often wondered if they would say half as much if I was not overshadowed by my father’s money and brilliance.”

The Bank Manager knew that there was no answer to this and he merely bowed her to the door.

As she was being driven away in the carriage, she thought that Charles and Betty would be hysterical when the money arrived.

They would now be able to marry each other and would never know that it was just by chance she had been in the right place to eavesdrop on their conversation.

She then told the coachman to drive her to a large shop in Oxford Street, where she occasionally bought small items, but not the smart clothes in which she was so much admired as a
debutante
.

He put her down at the front door.

She walked through the shop without stopping and out through the door at the other end of it that led into Cavendish Square.

She walked across the Square to where at the other side there was an Employment Agency for servants.

It was, she knew, where her aunt’s housekeeper engaged servants when necessary and the butler had quite recently taken on a new footman from there.

The Agency was on the first floor above a shop that catered for garden implements.

There was no one on the stairs and Arliva stopped to put on a pair of large dark spectacles that she had worn last year in Switzerland, when she had found the blazing sun on the snow almost overpowering.

She took off the pearls she was wearing round her neck that had belonged to her mother and slipped them into her handbag.

She was aware that now she looked very ordinary.

She had in fact chosen, rather to the surprise of her lady’s maid, a dark suit which so far she had not worn in the summer.

She had deliberately chosen to wear a very plain hat that was ornamented with two small feathers on one side of it.

She now deftly removed the feathers and put them into her handbag.

She then walked up the stairs.

As it was quite early, there were not many servants waiting to hear of a new job and there were only two boys present, who obviously wanted to be employed in a stable.

She saw at the far end of the room a woman at a very tall desk and walked towards her.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hill,” she said. “I have been told by so many people how efficient you are at finding work for those who need it and I am hoping that you will be able to oblige me.”

The woman, who was elderly, then adjusted her spectacles and looked at Arliva critically.

“I am always very glad to hear a kind word about myself,” she answered. “They always say that they could not manage in Mayfair without me.”

“That is exactly what they do say,” Arliva replied. “Therefore I am sure that you will be able to find me a place as a Governess.”

“Have you had any experience?” Mrs. Hill asked.

“I have, as it happens, travelled over a great deal of the world and I speak five different languages, but I prefer, if possible, to be with young children. I really need a rest from my last situation which was very strenuous.”

“I suppose you have references?”

Arliva opened her handbag.

She had actually written them before she went to bed last night knowing that they would be the first thing she would be asked for.

She had been delighted to find that in her father’s writing table, which she had looked in before she went up to bed, that there were a number of letters from people of distinction.

It had been quite easy to erase the few words of goodwill and keep the signature on them.

She had three letters with her from titled people and two of them lived in the North of England, who were not likely to come into contact with Mrs. Hill.

Mrs. Hill then read them slowly and was obviously impressed.

“You seem to be very talented,” she remarked. “I will be very pleased to find somewhere for you. But first of all you must give me your name.”

“My name is Parker,” Arliva told her, “and I would like to be accommodated as soon as possible. As I worked very hard in the last place with two girls of seventeen and a boy of twelve, I would like to be with small children for a short time to give myself a rest.”

“That should not be too difficult,” Mrs. Hill said reassuringly. “Do you mind being in the country?”

“I was just going to say to you that I would want to be in the country and not in a town,” Arliva replied. “I find towns very tiring. Also it means that one has little time for riding and enjoying oneself with animals.”

“Most young women of your age,” Mrs. Hill said, “find the country dull. But I have the very place for you if you don’t mind being isolated with children and animals. I understand from the Governesses I have already sent that there is nothing else.”

“Where is it?” Arliva enquired.

“It is Lord Wilson’s in Huntingdonshire,” she said. “He is an old man, but he has his three grandchildren with him. Two years ago their parents were drowned when the ship they were sailing in to America sank in a very rough sea. No one else in the family wanted three children, so his Lordship was obliged to take his grandchildren in and the trouble they’ve been to him in that the Governesses I’ve sent to look after them find the place too dull and too isolated.”

She gave a little laugh before she added,

“Young women want the excitement of shops even if they can’t afford to buy the goods in them. Shops, I do understand, are very rare where Lord Wilson lives.”

“Well, I would like to go there,” Arliva answered. “I am sure that it will be a rest from the hectic life I have been having recently.”

“I only hope you stay a bit longer than the last Governess did,” Mrs. Hill said. “She left after only four weeks and that, I can tell you, is a record.”

“I promise you I will stay longer than that,” Arliva told her. “I would like to go as soon as possible, please.”

“Well, here’s the address and I’ll write at once to his Lordship’s secretary who’s been bothering me day after day with letters asking me to send them someone. Your wages will be forty pounds a year paid monthly and they’ll refund all the expenses you’ve incurred in travelling there.”

“I will definitely go the day after tomorrow,” Arliva announced. “I am quite sure, Mrs. Hill, I will be happy with the children. Are they boys or girls?”

“There’s a boy of seven, who is his Lordship’s heir, and his two sisters who are twins of six years of age.”

“I can only say that I am very grateful to you and, of course, I would like my references returned to me when I arrive at Wilson Hall.”

“I only hope that you won’t be back asking me for another place like all the others I’ve said goodbye to,” Mrs. Hill replied rather harshly.

“I hope not,” Arliva said. “I am looking forward to being in the country even if it is rather isolated.”

“Well, very good luck to you and I hope you settle down,” Mrs. Hill replied. “I don’t mind telling you that it’s been a real headache finding young women today, who want to be gadding about in a town rather than attending to their pupils.”

She spoke sharply and Arliva then appreciated that she must have sent a good number of applicants to this particular place.

At the same time she felt that this position was just what she needed at the moment.

At least no one from the
Beau Monde
would think of looking for her there.

She thanked Mrs. Hill, signed her name on various papers and then went off down the stairs.

She tucked her spectacles away in her handbag and then she hastily put on her earrings and pearl necklace and hurried across the Square.

Her carriage was waiting outside the shop where she had left it and she told the coachman to take her home.

She felt that both the coachman and the footman were surprised that she carried no parcels with her.

But they immediately drove her back to Park Lane, where she found her aunt coming down the staircase very smartly dressed.

“Oh, there you are, Arliva!” she exclaimed. “I was wondering what had happened to you when they told me that you had gone out shopping.”

“I went to buy a present for one of the girls whose birthday it is tomorrow,” Arliva replied. “But I could not find anything I liked, so I will have to look after luncheon.”

“Now, my dear, you must go and change,” her aunt suggested. “Surely you must have remembered that we are lunching with Lady Fotheringay today and you look very drab and dowdy in that get-up.”

“I dressed in a hurry as I wanted to go shopping,” Arliva told her. “I will not keep you long while I change.”

“There is no great hurry, dearest, but I want you to look your very best, so do wear that pretty blue dress you wore yesterday. I thought the hat exceedingly becoming.”

Arliva smiled at her.

“I promise I will do you credit, Aunt Molly, but I can hardly do more,” she replied.

“Of course not,” her aunt agreed. “Did you enjoy your party last night?”

“I thought it was one of the best we have given so far – ”

They had moved into one of the sitting rooms while they were talking.

Now her aunt glanced at the door before she said,

“The Countess of Sturton talked to me last night. She is very anxious that you should marry her son.”

BOOK: 108. An Archangel Called Ivan
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