Follow Your Heart (11 page)

Della laughed.

“Now you are flattering me, my Lord. It is just what I would like to be! I would swim right to the bottom of this lovely pool and stay there.”

“And if you did so, what would happen to all your admirers? You would leave them heartbroken.”

Della laughed again.

“As they do not exist there is no need for me to worry about them.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” asked the Marquis.

Della shrugged her shoulders.

“It happens to be the truth and if I need a companion, my Lord, I am perfectly content with Apollo.”

“I suppose that is Apollo I see over there. Strangely enough he is most appropriately talking to Juno.”

“Is he really?”

“He is indeed and like you I would rather be with Juno than any other woman I have ever met.”

“You cannot expect me to believe
that
.”

“Why not?” questioned the Marquis.

She moved from amongst the irises to where, beside the pool, there was a fallen tree that made a comfortable seat.

Without really thinking what she was doing she sat down and the Marquis joined her saying as he did,

“I can assure you I am very careful not to ask Lendi to tell my fortune. I am quite certain she would find me a suitable bride and I have a feeling her predictions would be even more pushy than those of my relations!”

Della chuckled.

“I can understand when you own anything as beautiful as this wood and your lovely house, my Lord, that your family wish you to marry and settle down. To have someone special to share it with.”

She was thinking as she spoke that this was exactly what the Duke wanted for Jason, although when he had married it had been a disaster.

Because even the thought of Jason upset her, she gave a little shudder and the Marquis asked,

“What is frightening you?”

“How do you – know I am – frightened?” Della looked startled.

“I cannot give you a direct answer,” he replied, “but I know I am right. Although you look like one of the nymphs from the pool and should be happy and carefree, I can sense you are, in fact, very afraid of something.”

“You are – right,” Della admitted, “but I do not want to talk – about it.”

She thought as she was speaking how extraordinary it was that this stranger should be so knowledgeable about her. It was almost as though he could see into her thoughts.

And then she realised as she looked over at the Marquis, sitting next to her, that he was extremely good–looking.

She suspected that his relatives were all determined he should marry as soon as possible so that he wasn't left all alone with only his possessions for company, however marvellous they might be.

“You are quite right,” said the Marquis, reading her thoughts again, “but I am determined to enjoy life in my own way. You as a gypsy, who has always ignored convention, will understand my feelings as no one else.”

“Of course I – understand,” agreed Della. “You must never marry anyone unless as Lendi would say –
you follow your heart
and then it is inevitable.”

The Marquis smiled.

“That is exactly what I intend to do. I therefore make it clear that anyone who insists on talking about my future will not be invited to Clare Court a second time!”

“Instead they will just talk about it behind your back.”

“I am quite certain they will,” the Marquis replied, “and of course young women will continue to be paraded in front of me like horses at a spring sale.”

He spoke almost angrily, but Della found herself laughing.

“I can see it all happening and of course you are an irresistible prize, my Lord, for any ambitious
debutante
.”

Only as she spoke did she catch herself, thinking this was not something a gypsy would have said, so quickly before the Marquis could reply she added,

“But I must not keep your Lordship talking if you have an appointment.”

“My only appointment is with my woods, madam, and I am delighted that you should want ride in them.”

It struck Della that having said what she planned to do perhaps he had deliberately come in search of her. It was, however, something she could not ask him.

Instead she said most sincerely,

“I cannot tell you how grateful I am, my Lord. As you are already aware woods mean a great deal to me and I always turn to them whenever I am happy or in trouble.”

“At the moment you are worried?”

She felt it was no use protesting any further.

“Yes I am, but I do not wish to admit it.”

“I think what you desire,” the Marquis told her, “is to be alone with the fairies and the goblins. Alternatively you might like to look at my horses.”

Della's eyes lit up.

“Do you mean it?” she enthused, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight with excitement. “Is it really an invitation?”

“If it would interest you.”

“Of course it would, my Lord.”

“Then come and look at them,” suggested the Marquis. “I can tell by looking at how well groomed Apollo is, and how you speak of him, that like most gypsies your horse is more important to you than almost anything else.”

“I can only say, my Lord, that I would be very honoured to see the horses in your Lordship's stables.”

She tried to speak in a manner she thought a gypsy would have done.

The Marquis rose and they walked to where the horses were looking for grass beneath the trees.

When Della gave a little whistle, Apollo came ambling towards her.

The Marquis did not say anything. He merely picked her up and placed her on the saddle.

He was very strong and Della extremely light.

As his hands held her waist she felt a little quiver. Not one of fear, more a secret thrill deep inside that she did not understand because she had never felt it before.

The Marquis still said nothing. He walked to Juno and swung himself into the saddle.

There was a path out of the wood only a little way from the pool. When they were in an open field, without saying anything, they spontaneously broke into a gallop that quickly became a race.

Even as they did so Della, for some reason she could not understand, felt a desire to beat him.

She realised that as Juno was a mare she was lighter and slightly smaller than Apollo.

Then she realised that the Marquis rode exceedingly well, in fact better than any man she had ever seen. Straight backed and elegant, the horse seemed to move at his slightest touch.

When they reached the end of the first field, he was just half a length ahead of her. Urging Apollo quickly forward, eyes shining and cheeks flushed by the exercise and early morning breeze, she pursued.

As the horses came to a standstill near the gate she breathlessly exclaimed,

“That was so exciting! I think Juno is a very beautiful horse!”

“So is Apollo,” replied the Marquis. “And no Goddess, may I say, could ride him better or more gracefully.”

“Thank you, my Lord. That is exactly the sort of compliment Apollo likes to hear.”

“And his Mistress?”

“She is very grateful to your Lordship as well.”

Della lowered her eyes and spoke humbly as one of the gypsies would.

The Marquis did not speak, yet she knew by the twinkle in his eyes that he was laughing at her.

‘I must be careful,' she told herself. ‘He must not think I am anything other than one of Piramus's gypsy band.'

She had a sudden fear that if he suspected anything he might talk about her and in some unexpected way the Duke would guess where she had gone. He would then insist on her returning home so that she could meet Jason again.

The idea seemed rather far–fetched, but equally she felt nervous and resolved to play her part with renewed vigour.

They had ridden, when they were racing, a little out of their way and now they turned back to climb up towards the house.

In front of the house there was a courtyard and then a green lawn stretching down to a lake. This was a natural lake, which was joined nearer the house by the artificial one with the fountain in its midst that Della had noticed before.

Della looked around her, interested and intrigued by the house and its surroundings.

“Clare Court has been in my family since the reign of Henry VIII,” the Marquis explained as if she had asked him a question. “The old house was burned down in the reign of George III and rebuilt by the Adam brothers.”

“That is just what I thought, my Lord. They were such brilliant architects and their work is recognisable even at a distance.”

Once again she caught herself being indiscreet. This was something a gypsy would never have said.

The Marquis however made no comment. He only led the way to the back of the house where the stables were situated.

One glance told Della that the stables were as up–to–date as those belonging to the Duke, and the Marquis's horses, though not so many, easily rivalled those she had been riding at home.

They walked from stall to stall with the Marquis explaining why he had bought each animal. He had been fortunate in finding several horses whose owners had simply not appreciated their value or recognised that they were unique.

Della understood by the tone of his voice and the way he spoke how much his horses meant to him.

It flashed through her mind that this was how a man should feel; that a man should value his assets and care and protect his things. Not like Jason, she thought, who had wasted his time and money with the type of women he had pursued in Paris and cared for no one but himself.

As they reached the last stall with Della continuing to praise his horses, the Marquis turned to her.

“Now you understand why my relatives think I am married to Juno who you have just become acquainted with. And I prefer my stallions to those gentlemen who expect me to play cards for high stakes at White's!”

Della laughed because it sounded so funny.

“You are right, of course, you are right, my Lord, and I only hope you are clever enough to resist the temptations and traps they will set for you from time to time.”

“Almost from day to day,” added the Marquis. “But so far I have managed to escape.”

“And that is what you must continue to do, my Lord.”

“Is that your opinion or a prediction?” the Marquis wanted to know with a broad smile suffusing his handsome face.

“Both,” answered Della, “but I expect the real difficulty will come when your heir has four legs!”

“That certainly will be something of a problem,” agreed the Marquis, “unless like the Emperor Caligula, I marry Juno!”

Now they were both laughing, but at the same time Della hoped that he would not find it strange that a gypsy seemed educated enough about the Roman Empire to know who Caligula was.

As they came out of the stable she said,

“Thank you a hundred times, my Lord, for showing me your wonderful horses and thank you once again for allowing me to ride in your woods. I think I should now return to the camp.”

“I will see you tomorrow evening,” said the Marquis, “and I have arranged a special place for you in the room next to the drawing room where you will look mysterious.”

He smiled before he added,

“It will be impossible for the young people not to listen attentively to everything you have to say.”

“I know your niece is called Alice, my Lord, but what is the name of the man you call the fortune–hunter?”

“His name is Cyril Andover.”

“Is there anyone in the party you would like your niece to marry?” enquired Della.

The Marquis pondered for a moment.

“There is one very nice young gentleman, the Viscount Huntingdon. I think with a little encouragement he would ask her to marry him. He is not only the heir to an Earldom, but is exceedingly rich so there is no question of him pursuing her for her money.”

“That is most helpful information, my Lord, and I promise you I will do my best to prevent her from making a disastrous marriage. Once she has realised what her husband is really like she would be utterly miserable.”

She spoke intensely with a note of agony in her voice.

Then she became aware that the Marquis was looking at her curiously.

“I must go back to the camp,” she said quickly.

She walked away from him towards Apollo, who was being held by one of the stable boys.

She thought she would reach him before the Marquis could do so, but he was quicker than she expected.

Without saying anything, he lifted her up onto the saddle and Della picked up the reins.

“Thank you once again, my Lord, for a fascinating and exciting morning. I have enjoyed every moment of it.”

“So have I,” answered the Marquis. “Goodbye Della, I am quite certain now you will not fail me tomorrow evening.”

Della gave him a rather shy smile and rode off.

Without looking round she felt that he was watching her closely.

She had the strangest feeling that once again she was running away. Yet why it should be from the Marquis she had no idea.

It was just some sixth sense deep within that told her she was on dangerous ground.

She sensed his eyes boring into her back.

Only when she was out of the garden and moving towards the woods did she feel she had really left him behind.

‘He is very astute and I can understand why he has no wish to be married,' she told herself.

Once again she was remembering Jason and that any woman who married him could not fail to be utterly and completely miserable.

She was frightened with a fear that was as painful as if her heart was pierced with a dagger.

Only when she reached the woods did she feel as if the sun was shining again.

*

As she rode into the camp she noticed that Piramus was waiting for her.

“I have had a wonderful morning,” she told him. “I have seen all his Lordship's horses and they are magnificent.”