floor, tearing
at the blazing paper which covered his chest.
‘Back!’ hissed Deirdre as the other two closed in. Why didn’t the servants come? Should she scream? No! One thing burned in Deirdre’s mind. No one must know she had been
here.
Bill and Benjie began to move nearer. Deirdre edged closer to a brass stand on the other side of the fireplace which held a selection of riding whips, polo sticks, umbrellas, and sword
sticks.
She seized a sword stick and managed to jerk the blade out of its sheath before Bill found the courage to try to seize her hand.
Slicing the blade through the air in great sweeps, she held them off until she had reached the door.
Then she wrenched it open and ran instinctively to the morning-room. It was as well she did. For the great door at the other end of the hall was barred and bolted for the night and by the time
she had unlatched and unlocked everything, they would have been upon her.
She fled down the Hopeminster road which led from Lady Wentwater’s estate into the village of Hopeworth. She did not stop running until she had reached the gates of the Hall, determined to
rouse the lodge keeper should she hear sounds of pursuit. For Deirdre now felt there was no way her humiliation and stupidity could escape detection.
But no sounds of chase came to her ears. The night was cold and quiet and still. Deirdre sank down on to a tussock of grass beside the gates of the Hall and buried her face in her hands.
Never again would she believe in God. He had tricked her, she thought illogically, following quite a common line of reasoning – ‘He did not help me, therefore I won’t believe
in Him.’
And as for the marriage of true minds! Piffle! And men? Worse. Some were better mannered and better dressed than others, but au fond they were all the same: great, hairy, selfish,
hot-handed, slavering satyrs.
Out of the whole pack of them, she hated her father the most. If he had behaved like a true father, then all this would never have happened.
There is nothing more comforting than finding someone else to blame and so Deirdre lashed her rage up against the vicar.
‘You do seem to make a habit of sitting around by the roadside,’ came a plaintive voice from somewhere above her head.
Deirdre started and looked up. Impeccable and urbane as ever, Lord Harry Desire stood smiling down at her in the moonlight.
Deirdre looked up at him sullenly. ‘Have you come to jeer and torment me?’ she asked.
‘No,’ he said amiably, ‘only to find you. Daphne awoke and found your bed empty and raised the alarm. Betty said you had been running around earlier with two bandboxes. The
good vicar decided you had run away from home.’
If only, thought Deirdre wildly, she could keep her stupidity over Guy a secret!
‘I left a letter,’ she said.
‘Well, I don’t think anyone has found it yet,’ he said.
‘I must get back and tear it up,’ thought Deirdre.
‘Thank you,’ she said, rising and brushing down her skirts. ‘I am ready to go home now. I couldn’t sleep. The letter explained all that, you see.’
‘The bandboxes!’ cried a voice in her head. ‘You left the bandboxes!’
‘No bandboxes this time?’ went on Lord Harry as if reading her thoughts.
Deirdre began to walk down the road with him. She felt very, very tired. She never wanted to see her father again.
There was only one way in which a gently brought-up young girl could free herself from home.
Marriage.
‘I will marry you,’ she said abruptly.
Lord Harry strolled along in silence. Oh, God, thought Deirdre, even this fool does not want me.
Dark figures were scurrying here and there through the village.
‘What is the matter?’ asked Deirdre.
‘You,’ smiled Lord Harry. ‘Mr Armitage has sounded the alarm.’
He called out to one of the figures. One of the village boys came running up.
Lord Harry fished in his pocked and handed the boy a shilling.
‘Go and tell everyone Miss Deirdre has been
at the blazing paper which covered his chest.
‘Back!’ hissed Deirdre as the other two closed in. Why didn’t the servants come? Should she scream? No! One thing burned in Deirdre’s mind. No one must know she had been
here.
Bill and Benjie began to move nearer. Deirdre edged closer to a brass stand on the other side of the fireplace which held a selection of riding whips, polo sticks, umbrellas, and sword
sticks.
She seized a sword stick and managed to jerk the blade out of its sheath before Bill found the courage to try to seize her hand.
Slicing the blade through the air in great sweeps, she held them off until she had reached the door.
Then she wrenched it open and ran instinctively to the morning-room. It was as well she did. For the great door at the other end of the hall was barred and bolted for the night and by the time
she had unlatched and unlocked everything, they would have been upon her.
She fled down the Hopeminster road which led from Lady Wentwater’s estate into the village of Hopeworth. She did not stop running until she had reached the gates of the Hall, determined to
rouse the lodge keeper should she hear sounds of pursuit. For Deirdre now felt there was no way her humiliation and stupidity could escape detection.
But no sounds of chase came to her ears. The night was cold and quiet and still. Deirdre sank down on to a tussock of grass beside the gates of the Hall and buried her face in her hands.
Never again would she believe in God. He had tricked her, she thought illogically, following quite a common line of reasoning – ‘He did not help me, therefore I won’t believe
in Him.’
And as for the marriage of true minds! Piffle! And men? Worse. Some were better mannered and better dressed than others, but au fond they were all the same: great, hairy, selfish,
hot-handed, slavering satyrs.
Out of the whole pack of them, she hated her father the most. If he had behaved like a true father, then all this would never have happened.
There is nothing more comforting than finding someone else to blame and so Deirdre lashed her rage up against the vicar.
‘You do seem to make a habit of sitting around by the roadside,’ came a plaintive voice from somewhere above her head.
Deirdre started and looked up. Impeccable and urbane as ever, Lord Harry Desire stood smiling down at her in the moonlight.
Deirdre looked up at him sullenly. ‘Have you come to jeer and torment me?’ she asked.
‘No,’ he said amiably, ‘only to find you. Daphne awoke and found your bed empty and raised the alarm. Betty said you had been running around earlier with two bandboxes. The
good vicar decided you had run away from home.’
If only, thought Deirdre wildly, she could keep her stupidity over Guy a secret!
‘I left a letter,’ she said.
‘Well, I don’t think anyone has found it yet,’ he said.
‘I must get back and tear it up,’ thought Deirdre.
‘Thank you,’ she said, rising and brushing down her skirts. ‘I am ready to go home now. I couldn’t sleep. The letter explained all that, you see.’
‘The bandboxes!’ cried a voice in her head. ‘You left the bandboxes!’
‘No bandboxes this time?’ went on Lord Harry as if reading her thoughts.
Deirdre began to walk down the road with him. She felt very, very tired. She never wanted to see her father again.
There was only one way in which a gently brought-up young girl could free herself from home.
Marriage.
‘I will marry you,’ she said abruptly.
Lord Harry strolled along in silence. Oh, God, thought Deirdre, even this fool does not want me.
Dark figures were scurrying here and there through the village.
‘What is the matter?’ asked Deirdre.
‘You,’ smiled Lord Harry. ‘Mr Armitage has sounded the alarm.’
He called out to one of the figures. One of the village boys came running up.
Lord Harry fished in his pocked and handed the boy a shilling.
‘Go and tell everyone Miss Deirdre has been
Similar Books
