Two Hearts in Hungary. Barbara Cartland
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“Do you really – mean that – Papa?”
“I do,” the Duke answered, “and I am already looking round to find you a husband.”
Aletha stiffened and stared at him in astonishment.
“A – h-husband?” she stammered.
“Of course,” the Duke said. “If your mother was here I know she would be as anxious as I am that you should make a brilliant marriage and with somebody we would welcome here as a son-in-law.”
Aletha was silent for a moment.
Then she said in a small voice,
“I think – Papa, I would – rather find – my own husband.”
The Duke shook his head.
“That is impossible.”
“But – why?” Aletha asked.
“Because in Royal and noble families like ours marriages are always arranged discreetly but definitively.”
He paused before he added,
“As my only daughter, I shall be very particular who you will marry and determined that it will be somebody who will, in common parlance, ‘fit in’.”
“But, Papa, suppose I do not – love him?”
“Love usually comes after marriage and I promise you, my precious daughter, I will find you a man who I am quite certain you will fall head over heels in love with.”
“B-but – suppose,” Aletha said in a small voice, “he does not – fall in love with me and only – wants me because I am – your daughter?”
Her father made a little gesture with his hand.
“That, I am afraid, is inevitable. A man, if he is an aristocrat, of course, hopes he will fall in love in the same way as I fell in love with your beloved mother.”
It was as if he was looking back in time before he went on,
“But he usually accepts what the French call a ‘mariage de convenance’ simply because ‘blue blood’ should be matched with ‘blue blood’ especially if his bride is beautiful enough to carry on the line in the way that is should be.”
Aletha was silent.
Then she said,
“I think that it sounds very cold-blooded and rather like being a piece of goods on the counter of a shop.”
“It is not really like that,” her father replied a little sharply. “I promise you, my dearest, I will not make you marry anyone you do not like.”
“I do want to – love someone,” Aletha said softly, “and I want him to – love me for – myself.”
“A great many men will love you for yourself but, when it is a question of marriage, I think I am far more likely to choose the right man to ensure your future happiness than anyone you could choose for yourself at your age.”
“What do you mean by that?” Aletha asked.
“I mean,” the Duke answered, “that a young girl is easily deceived by a man who has the ‘gift of the gab’ as it is called.”
He thought for a moment or two before he went on,
“Honeyed words do not always come easily from someone who is self-controlled and has been brought up not to ‘wear his heart on his sleeve’.”
“What you are implying,” Aletha said slowly, “is that I might be carried away by what a man says to me and not by what he is feeling.”
“There are men who can be very glib,” the Duke said cynically, “especially when it is a question of money and rank.”
Aletha was silent.
She knew that any man in England, whoever he was, would consider it a privilege to be the son-in-law of the Duke of Buclington.
She was the Duke’s only daughter and while the major part of his fortune would go to her brother, who at this moment was in India as an aide-de-camp to the Viceroy, some of it would be hers.
She had also been left a considerable sum of money by her mother.
Her father had not put this into words.
She was, however, intelligent enough to realise that there would be fortune-hunters in London who would consider it a triumph if they could marry her and into a Ducal family
It would not be for herself, but, as he had said, as her father’s daughter.
“We have not really had a chance to talk of this before,” her father was saying, “but I had intended to do so before we go to London.”
He paused a moment to cough and then went on,
“My dearest, you have to be sensible and leave things in my hands. You have trusted me since you were a child and I cannot believe that you will not do so now.”
“I love you, Papa, and, of course, I trust you,” Aletha said. “But I want to fall in love as you fell in love with Mama and she with you.”
“That is something that happens only once in a million years,” the Duke replied. “When I walked into the room and saw your mother, there seemed to be a dazzling light about her and I knew that I had found the girl whoever she might be and from wherever she came that I wanted as my wife.”
“And Mama said,” Aletha replied, “that when she saw you she knew that you were the man of her dreams.”
“We were very very happy,” the Duke insisted.
There was a pain in his voice that was always there when he spoke of his wife.
“I too want to feel like that,” Aletha said quickly. “I want to meet the – Prince of my – dreams!”
“Then you must just pray that is what you will do,” the Duke replied.
She knew as he spoke that he did not believe it was possible.
As he had said, what had happened to her mother and him was something that might happen once in a million years or in a cheap novelette from a bookshop.
The Duke rose to his feet.
“If I am to leave so early, I think I should go to bed. Don’t you worry about anything, my precious, and we will talk about this when I come home and before we leave for London.”
He put his arm around her before he added,
“Enjoy yourself with the horses. I promise I will make it up to you for the two weeks of boredom as soon as I return.”