A Touch Of Love. Barbara Cartland
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know why – because you were waiting for Ronald’s allowance to come in. That was kind of you – very kind.”
“And strictly unethical!” Mr. Lawson added with a smile.
There was silence for a moment before Tamara asked,
“Must we tell him – now?”
“I am afraid so,” Mr. Lawson replied. “You would not wish me to behave in such an illegal manner that I should no longer be allowed to practise as a Solicitor.”
“No, of course not,” Tamara answered, “and you have been so kind already. I am sure that my brother-in-law never paid your firm for the endless times he had to consult you over the many documents appertaining to the estate and, of course, the boat.”
“It is not of any great consequence,” Mr. Lawson replied. “As I have said, I valued your brother-in-law’s friendship and I don’t think that anyone could have known your sister without loving her.”
“It is a pity the Grant family could not hear you say that,” Tamara observed.
“Would you think me very impertinent, Miss Selincourt, if I suggested that when you meet the Duke of Granchester you do not fight old battles?” Mr. Lawson asked. “Content yourself with trying to make him interested in the three orphans and accept them as his sole responsibility.”
“Supposing he refuses to do anything for them?” Tamara asked. “It’s quite likely, considering they are my sister’s children.”
“I cannot believe that the Duke would allow anyone with the name of Grant to starve,” Mr. Lawson replied. “Furious though the old Duke was with Lord Ronald, he continued his allowance all these years.”
“The same allowance he made him when he was an undergraduate at Oxford,” Tamara said scornfully.
“It was nevertheless a substantial one,” Mr. Lawson insisted, “and the Duke could in fact have cut off his son with only the proverbial penny.”
“If you think I am going to be grateful to the family – I am not!” Tamara said in a hard voice. “As for the present Duke, from all I have heard about him – ”
She gave a sudden cry and put her fingers up to her lips.
“What is it?” Mr. Lawson asked in astonishment.
“I have just remembered – I did not think of it until now, but I cannot – I cannot take the children to the Duke of Granchester. If they go, they must go – without me!”
“But why?” Mr. Lawson asked.
“Because I have – based my – novel on him!”
“On the Duke?”
Tamara put her hand up to her forehead as if she was trying to think clearly.
“You remember my first book, which, although it was a Fairytale, it was also slightly satirical?”
“Indeed I thought it very amusing and original,” Mr. Lawson commented.
“Well, this book, the one that is being published at the moment, is a novel about a spiteful, unkind, wicked Duke, who is in fact the present Duke of Granchester!”
“But you have never seen him and you know nothing about him.”
“I know all that Ronald has told me and, because I was interested, I always looked for anything written about him in the newspapers and magazines.”
She looked at Mr. Lawson in consternation as she went on,
“When Ronald’s friends whom he had met at Oxford came to stay with us, they always told us stories about the Duke and I stored them up in my memory.”
“And you think that the Duke would recognise himself?” Mr. Lawson asked. “In which case your book might be libellous.”
“I don’t think that he would care to acknowledge the portrait as a true one,” Tamara answered. “I have no reason to think he would even read it, but – ”
She was silent and after a moment Mr. Lawson said,
“Exactly what have you said that could identify His Grace as being the character portrayed in your novel?”
“Well, for one thing the book is called The Ducal Wasp and the Duke is the villain who goes about making everybody miserable and unhappy. He drives phaetons and curricles that are always black and yellow and his servants wear a black and yellow livery!”
“Which are the Grant family colours,” Mr. Lawson said.
“Exactly!” Tamara answered, “And, oh, there are lots of other things about him that Ronald told me and about The Castle. There are also incidents I have invented like a Race Meeting where the villain pulls the favourite so that he can make a lot of money by betting on another horse from his stables, which, of course, wins.”
Mr. Lawson put his hand up to his forehead.
“Why did you not let me read it before you sent it to the publishers? You will undoubtedly be prosecuted for libel and ordered to pay enormous damages.”
Tamara laughed.
“That’s easy, at any rate. If I have no money, I cannot pay!”
“Then you may go to prison.”
“Then I will plead that every word I wrote was true and therefore justified.”
Mr. Lawson groaned.
“That is something which cannot happen! You will sit down, Miss Selincourt, here and now and write to the publishers withdrawing your book!”
“Withdraw my book?” Tamara cried. “I shall do nothing of the sort!”
“You must! You must see it is the only possible course for you to take,” Mr. Lawson insisted.
He saw the light of defiance in Tamara’s eyes and added quietly,
“You have to think of the children. Knowing what you believe the Duke to be like, could you bear to send them alone to Granchester Castle? I know that they would be unhappy without you.”
There was a long silence.
Then Tamara capitulated.
“No, you are right. I will send the letter.”
“I will draft it for you,” Mr. Lawson suggested. “In the meantime I will despatch a letter tomorrow morning to the Duke, informing him of his brother’s death and telling him that the children will arrive at the beginning of next week.”
“As soon as – that?”
“We have to remember Mr. Trevena.”
“Y-yes – of course.”
Once again Tamara rose to walk to the window.
“I am thinking,” she said, “that if I must – go with them and I realise that Vava is too young to go without me, then it might be best not to go as – Maïka’s sister.”
Mr. Lawson considered for a moment.
Then he said,
“No, of course not, I should have thought of that. It would be best to say that you have looked after them as – ”
“ – as a Governess,” Tamara interposed. “At least then he will have to give me my wages so that I shall not be entirely dependent upon him.”
Mr. Lawson looking at her and seeing the sunshine touch the dark red of her hair to a flaming gold, thought that she would look very unlike the usual run of Governesses to be found in charge of small children.
He did not, however, express his thoughts, he only asked aloud,
“What name shall I call you?”
“Does