A Night of Gaiety by Barbara Cartland Page B

the steps and across the pavement to where a footman was standing with his hand on the carriage-door.
    W hen she reached it he opened it, and Davita could see, as she had feared, Lord Mundesley sitting inside. He bent forward and held out his hand.
    “ Get in, Davita. I want to speak to you.”
    “ I was just ... going to ... lie down.”
    “ I will not keep you long.”
    B ecause she did not know what else she could do, Davita put her hand in his to let him draw her into the carriage. As she sat down beside him, the horses started to move and she asked:
    “ Where are you taking me? I really have to go back.”
    “We are merely moving a little farther up the road so that we can talk without being observed,” Lord Mundesley replied.
    S he knew without his putting it into words that what he meant was so that Violet would not see them.
    He was looking very smart with a carnation in his button-hole and a large pearl tie-pin in his cravat. He also seemed large and overpowering, and the way he was looking at her made Davita feel shy.
    Because she was nervous she said quickly:
    “ I must ... thank you. It was very kind of you to send me those ... beautiful flowers. At the same time, I want to ask you ... not to send me any ... more.” She thought he might ask her why, but instead he said:
    “ Are you afraid Violet will be jealous? That is something I wish to talk to you about.”
    A s she spoke, the horses came to a standstill. Davita now realised he had been truthful when he had said they would only go a little way up the street, and she asked more calmly:
    “ What do you want to talk to me about?”
    “ The answer to that is quite simple,” Lord Mundesley said. “You, and of course myself.”
    D avita looked at him in surprise and he said:
    “You must be aware, my lovely little Scot, that you captivated me from the moment I set eyes on you, and I have a proposition to make.”
    “A ... p-proposition?” Davita stammered.
    Although Lord Mundesley had not moved while he was speaking, she felt, as she had last night, that he was encroaching on her and instinctively she moved as far as she could away from him to the farther corner of the carriage.
    Even so, he still seemed unpleasantly near.
    “I understand from Violet,” Lord Mundesley went on, “that you have come to London in search of employment. Although I could quite easily arrange for George Edwardes to find you a place at the Gaiety, I do not think you are really suited for a life on the stage.” Davita gave a little sigh of relief, thinking her apprehension had been quite unnecessary and Lord Mundesley was in fact trying to help her in a practical manner.
    She turned her face to him eagerly.
    “I am so glad you said that, because not only am I quite certain that I would be a failure if I went on the stage, but it is not the sort of life I would like, and Mama would have disapproved.”
    “Your mother is dead,” Lord Mundesley said, “so whether she approves or disapproves of what you do is not likely to concern us.”
    Davita was puzzled.
    She did not understand why he should say such a thing.
    “At the same time,” Lord Mundesley continued, “your mother would, I am sure, not wish you to endure a life of hardship or have none of the luxuries and comforts to which anybody as pretty as you is entitled.”
    He paused, and as Davita did not speak he went on: “What I want to suggest to you, Davita, is that you let me look after you. You will find me a kind and generous man, and I think we could be very happy together.” Davita’s eyes opened so wide that they seemed to fill her whole face. Then she asked in a voice that was barely audible:
    “What are you ... suggesting ... what are you ... s-saying?”
    “I am saying, my dear, that I will give you a comfortable little house in Chelsea, all the beautiful gowns you want, and a great number of other things that will make you happy.”
    For a moment Davita found it hard to breathe, for she was so