A Duke in Danger by Barbara Cartland Page B

with home-brewed cider, the Duke actually felt quite tired.
    Alvina, however, despite her frail appearance, seemed to be as fresh and as buoyant as she had been in the morning.
    He knew she was stimulated and excited by the knowledge that the burden of misery and despair which had rested on her shoulders for so long had now been lifted.
    It was after dinner, when it was getting late and they had almost completed their plans for the next few months at any rate, that the Duke had said:
    “Now, Alvina, I think we will talk about you. You have set my feet on the right path, so I must do the same for you.
    “What do you mean?” she asked.
    “I think I am right in thinking that you are nineteen,” the Duke said, “and you should have made your debut in London last year, but of course you were in mourning. Now, with Berkeley Square at your disposal, you must meet the Beau Monde and, of course, the Prince Regent.”
    He expected Alvina to be excited at the idea, as he thought any young woman would have been, but to his surprise she looked away from him to say:
    “I would much rather stay here. I am too ... old to be a ... debutante.”
    “That is untrue,” he said. “And although I am very grateful for your help, I cannot allow you to waste your youth and your beauty tending old pensioners and opening Schools for obstreperous children.”
    Alvina had risen from the chair in which she had been sitting and walked across the Morning-Room to pull aside the curtains over the window.
    Outside, it was night. The sky was bright with stars and there was a moon rising over the tops of the oak trees in the Park.
    She stood looking out in silence.
    The Duke, watching her, thought how slim and exquisite she l ooked in a white muslin gown which he knew had been made for her by Miss Richardson.
    The muslin, which had been intended for curtains, revealed the soft curves of her breasts, but he knew she was in fact too thin, which doubtless was caused by not having enough to eat.
    He had learnt that their staple fare had been rabbits which Alvina had paid boys from the village to snare in the Park, and eggs which came from a few old chickens that were cooped up outside the kitchen-yard.
    The vegetables, the Duke learnt, had grown untended in the Kitchen Garden but had naturally become more and more sparse as the years went on, so that Alvina had to search for them amongst the weeds.
    Because these were such an important part of their diet, she had planted potatoes to supplement what was growing more or less wild.
    The Duke wondered why she was not more enthusiastic about the idea of going to London. Then suddenly she turned from the window to say:
    “No! It would be a mistake, and if you do not ... want me here, perhaps you would let me ... live in one of the ... cottages. I would be quite happy if Miss Richardson would ... stay with me.”
    The Duke stared at her and found it hard to believe what she was saying, before he replied:
    “My dear child, Miss Richardson is already an old woman, while you are young, very young, and your whole life is in front of you. Of course you must take your proper place in Society as you would have done had your mother been alive.”
    “Are you saying in a tactful manner that you ... wish to be ... rid of me?” Alvina asked. “Perhaps you are ... thinking of getting ... married.”
    There was just a little pause before the Duke said firmly:
    “I have no intention of getting married, not at any rate for a long time.”
    He knew as he spoke that it was impossible to imagine Isobel caring for the people on the Estate as Alvina had done, nor would she wish, he knew, to spend any length of time at the Castle.
    She would want to be at Berkeley Square, entertaining for the sophisticated, witty, pleasure-loving Socialites who were an intrinsic part of her life wherever she might be.
    “If you do not ... mind my being here,” Alvina said, “please, can I stay ... with you? I should feel ... afraid anywhere