The Marquis Is Trapped by Barbara Cartland

the Marquis was faring on the River Daren.  There was also a lengthy discussion about which flies were the most successful in attracting the salmon.
    They spoke about the grouse hatching and whether the bags would be as good as they had been last year.
    It was interesting enough chat, but, at the same time as they drove home, the Marquis found himself once again worrying about Celina.
    She had very certainly been the life and soul of the younger members of the family at luncheon.  They had sat at the other end of the table while he was on the right of his hostess.
    He could hear Celina’s laughter and her soft clear voice making those around her animated.
    ‘What could I possibly have done,’ he questioned, ‘to make her behave so strangely with me?’
    It was exactly the same on the return to Darendell Castle – again she sat as far away from him as she could.
    Whenever he spoke directly to her, she answered in monosyllables without looking at him.
    When they arrived, she disappeared quickly leaving him to follow slowly with his host and hostess.
    That evening, when he was dressing for dinner, the Marquis again asked Gilbert if he had found out anything more about the family.
    He would never have had such a conversation with any other servant, but Gilbert had been with him so long – in fact he always thought he was almost part of the family.
    “Well, from what I gathers, my Lord, Lady Celina were as nice as possible when the Earl first married Lady Benson, but things have changed in the last month or two.”
    “In what way?” enquired the Marquis.
    “Them be still not what your Lordship might call open-mouthed with me, but they hinted there be something unpleasant happening to Lady Celina that comes from her stepmother.”
    “Unpleasant?  What could they mean by that?”
    “One of the housemaids who’s been here years, did say that her mother’d turn in her grave at what’s going on.  Then, as if she’d already said too much, the other servants hushed her into silence.”
    The Marquis was intrigued – it was very definitely a puzzle he must solve, because in a way it concerned him.
    “Just go on finding out what you can, Gilbert, and I hope you are comfortable here.”
    “Very comfortable, my Lord, now I’ve changed me room.”
    “Changed your room?”
    “Well, it were just like this, my Lord.  They puts me upstairs with the other menservants in what us calls in England, the attic.  So I pointed out that if you wanted me, there was no way you could be in touch with me and it’d take me a month of Sundays to get to your Lordship.”
    The Marquis laughed.
    “Then I insisted they move me,” Gilbert carried on, “and now I’m in a small dressing room, which they say is very seldom used – just across the passage.”
    “That is certainly convenient, Gilbert.”
    “It suits me, my Lord, and if your Lordship shouts loud enough, I can hear you.”
    The Marquis laughed again as it was so like Gilbert to get his own way in whatever he wanted.
    He appreciated it that the man liked to be near him and Gilbert certainly looked after him better than any other servant could possibly have done.
    He went down for dinner and found the two guests who had come from nearby were a charming couple – he had met them before in England and they were delighted to see him again.
    They talked animatedly about the parties they had attended in Mayfair and the people they both knew.
    Then the lady, a Mrs. McCleod, asked,
    “I think, that at the party where we met, you were with Lady Heywood.  How is she?  I think she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”
    “She is a great success,” replied the Marquis.  “The day I left London she was dining that night at Marlborough House.”
    Mr. McCleod chortled.
    “Then I’m sure the Prince of Wales, who has an eye for a pretty woman, appreciates her.”
    “I would not be surprised, but he is still very much enamoured, I understand, with Lady