had heard all this dozens of times before. In fact she could not remember any time during her marriage when the subject of the land that lay between the two Ducal estates had not somehow crept into the conversation.
The whole problem was that the ten thousand acres of Magnus Croft had been some of the best shooting land on the Lynchester Estate and its woods held more pheasants than any of the Allerton coverts.
She knew now she thought of it that the present Duke had started as soon as he inherited to try to persuade her husband to allow him to buy back the land that had belonged to the Lynchesters for centuries.
The Duke of Northallerton was not particularly short of money and also Magnus Croft was on the extreme edge of his estate and therefore difficult to farm.
But he had no intention of relinquishing what was undoubtedly his by right.
The new Duke of Lynchester was, however, known for his determination.
“I have not told you because you never listen,” the Duke went on, “that Lynchester has been at me about this land every time we meet in White’s Club and at every County meeting we both attend. He even approached me on the matter in the hunting field, which is not a place where I would wish to do business.”
“No, of course not,” the Duchess agreed meekly.
“Then today,” the Duke went on, “when Lynchester started again after we had discussed the temerity of that new fellow wanting to start another pack of hounds, I had an idea.”
“What is it, Arthur?” the Duchess asked as her husband paused for breath.
As she spoke, she glanced at the sunshine outside and hoped she could soon get back to the garden. It was an ideal day for bedding out and she was already late with the plants she had been keeping in the greenhouse until they had grown strong enough to be outside.
“I replied to Lynchester,” the Duke said, ‘“I think these arguments between us have gone on long enough. What I suggest is that we should share the land in a very different way’.”
‘“What do you mean by that?’ he enquired.
‘“If you marry my daughter,’ I said, “she can have Magnus Croft as part of her dowry’.”
The Duchess gave a little gasp.
“You suggested he should marry Caroline? Arthur, how could you do such a thing?”
“I thought it extremely astute of me,” the Duke answered. “Everybody has been saying that at thirty-four the Duke should be married and produce an heir and what could be more logical than for Caroline to become his wife?”
“But, Arthur, she is in love with Edward Dalkirk, as you well know.”
“The fellow has not a single penny to his name!” the Duke retorted, “and Lynchester is undoubtedly the biggest matrimonial catch in the whole country.”
“But, Arthur, you promised Caroline that, if Edward could make a big success with his horses, you would permit them to be married.”
“I did not promise,” the Duke said loftily, “I merely said that I would consider it and now my answer is ‘no!’ Caroline will marry Lynchester and the land will be part of the marriage settlement. She will make a very beautiful Duchess and will show the Lynchester diamonds to their advantage.”
The Duke’s rather hard voice had now softened a little.
He had never disguised the fact that his elder daughter Caroline was his favourite child.
Although he was proud of his two sons, who were at Eton, it was Caroline who filled his heart, if he had one, and she had managed without much difficulty to coax him into saying that she could marry the man she loved.
“But, Arthur!” the Duchess protested, “Caroline is in love!”
“Love! Love!” the Duke said contemptuously. “What has that to do with it? Love comes after marriage, Elizabeth, and Lynchester is not likely to spend very much time with his wife, we all know where his interests lie.”
“Really, Arthur, I do not know how you can say such a thing – ” the Duchess began.
“Now, Elizabeth, be sensible,” the Duke interrupted. “Lynchester has been pursued by every pretty woman from here to the North Pole ever since he left school but, as you are well aware, all of them, smart, sophisticated and experienced, are married and he is not likely to cause a scandal by running off with one of them.”
“But, why Caroline?” the Duchess exclaimed plaintively.
“Must I put it into words of two syllables?” the Duke asked. “Because he wants Magnus Croft and if he has to marry sooner or later, which he must, what could be more suitable than to take a wife who can bring him a dowry he would really appreciate? Ten thousand acres of good land that his father lost because he was too drunk to hold his cards straight and that he badly wants and is determined to recover.”
“I suppose you realise that Caroline will be broken-hearted?” the Duchess pointed out.
The Duke made a sound that was almost a snort.
“She will get over it,” he replied sharply. “Young girls always fancy themselves to be in love with somebody unsuitable and that is what Edward Dalkirk is in my opinion.”
“You have never thought so until now.”
“Whether I did or not is quite immaterial,” the Duke said angrily, “Caroline will marry Lynchester and you will persuade her not to make a fuss, but to obey me in this matter. I have no intention of changing my mind.”
“But – Arthur – !” the Duchess began.
“That is my final word!” the Duke interrupted before she could say any more, “and, as Lynchester is coming over tomorrow afternoon, you had better tell her today what to expect.”
“But – Arthur – !” the Duchess began again.
There was the sound of the library door closing sharply and the Duke had gone.
Elfa did not move. She had lain rigid on the floor of the balcony ever since her father had begun to speak.
She felt as if she had been holding her breath for the whole time and that only when she heard her mother also leave the room was she now gasping for air.
Could it be possible that her father had arranged anything so cruel and utterly diabolical?
She knew that if she had not heard what had been said with her own ears that she would never have believed it.
Stiffly she rose to her feet, put the book that she had been reading back on the shelf and hurried down the twisting brass steps to the floor.
Then she started to run as swiftly as she could out of the library and then down a long passage, which led not to the magnificent front hall with its marble floor and statues but to a side staircase.
This led up to the second floor where the two girls slept and where what had
