Lovers in London (15 page)

Lanthia wanted to scream, but in her terror could still make no sound.

“Make no mistake,” the Conté continued, “the Marquis
will
suffer for insulting me and if he cries out for mercy as I intend him to, he will not receive it!”

He snarled the words like an animal.

Then he turned round and stalked out of the cabin slamming the door behind him.

It was then that Lanthia became aware of the sound of the yacht's engines beginning to turn.

She could vaguely hear the sound of someone, presumably the Conté, going ashore and she reckoned that it was only a question of minutes before the yacht would begin to move.

She thrashed her head frantically from side to side and tore with her fingers at the soft muslin of her dress, but she was unable to move her arms from above the wrists.

Finally, as she tossed again and again from one side to the other, the silk scarf over her mouth fell under her chin.

For a moment she could not make a sound, and then when she found it was possible to scream, she realised it was too late.

The yacht was already moving.

She was
lost
, lost completely, and no one she loved would ever see her again!

The Conté had said that she was to be disposed of so she would either be drowned at sea or killed in some way when the yacht reached Spain.

Because the idea was so frightening she once again tried in a frenzy to free her arms, but the ropes were too tight and she merely became exhausted by the struggle.

It was then that she began praying fervently to God and the Marquis all at the same time.

If she was to die she could only hope that it would be painless.

And that she would not suffer the agonies she knew the Conté would so delight in inflicting on her before she finally became unconscious.

‘Help me, God,
help me
to be brave and please don't let it be very painful.'

The words of her prayers seemed to tumble over themselves.

She felt the yacht gathering speed and knew she was lost.

No one, not even the Marquis could save her now.

*

The Marquis waited impatiently while the pageboy rose from the bench and came towards the porter.

He thought that what he had just been told could not be true, but equally he could never underestimate the hatred of the Conté and his total lack of scruples.

“Now listen, Tommy,” the porter was saying. “You took that young lad upstairs to fetch Miss Grenville and his Lordship wants to know exactly what happened.”

“I takes 'im up, my Lord,” explained Tommy, “and when he knocks on the door of Miss Grenville's sittin' room, 'er opens it.”

“And what did she say?”

“Her didn't speak, my Lord. The lad with I says, ‘the Marquis of Rakecliffe 'as 'ad an accident and 'e asks you to come to 'im quickly'.”

“And then did she say anything?”

“Her says, ‘an accident? But where is 'e?' Then the young lad says, ‘he be downstairs in a carriage.' ‘I'll come to 'im at once,' Miss Grenville says.”

“And that is what she did?”

“She comes with us just as she were,” answered Tommy. “Us goes down in the lift then the lad runs across the 'all in front of 'er. I followed them down the first lot of steps and sees 'er climb into a carriage. The lad shuts the door and jumps up beside the coachman and them drives off.”

Tommy blurted out the last few words so quickly he was almost breathless.

“What sort of carriage was it?” asked the Marquis.

“It be a big Hackney Carriage, my Lord. I knows where it comes from and I've seen the lad who called for Miss Grenville once or twice before.”

“I suppose you don't happen to know where they were going?” the Marquis questioned him.

“Yes I do, my Lord,” said Tommy unexpectedly.

The Marquis stared at him.

“Where was it?”

“I were talking to the lad when us was goin' up in the lift about trains and he were interested in them the same as I be.”

He saw the Marquis was listening intently and went on quickly,

“I says to 'im when you be free, we'll go up to the station and 'ave a look at them trains. Then 'e says 'e would be off at nine o'clock, but they 'ad to go first to the Embankment by Westminster Bridge.”

The Marquis had now heard everything he needed to know, so he took a guinea from his pocket and put it into Tommy's hand.

Then without a word to the porter he turned round and ran down the steps.

His carriage had not yet moved from the front of the hotel and he called up hoarsely at his coachman,

“The Port of London Authority as quickly as you can. We have been there before – and for God's sake hurry.”

He jumped into the carriage as the commissionaire closed the door and the horses started off at a fast pace.

The coachman would not have stayed long with the Marquis if he had not known how to hurry his horses when it was really necessary.

He drove at a speed that made passers-by on the pavement look up in surprise. Fortunately there was little traffic, even in Regent Street, now that the shops had closed.

The carriage drew nearer to the river.

The Marquis could only pray that he would be in time to prevent the Conté's yacht, which he was certain was carrying Lanthia away, from travelling too far towards the sea.

He could hardly believe that the Conté would go to such extremes to abduct Lanthia.

Yet that was just what he had done and the Marquis knew how terrified she must be.

‘It is all my fault,' he chided himself intensely.

He had been warned several times against having anything to do with the Contessa because of her husband's jealousy.

Now he thought about it, he remembered one of his friends who had been talking about the Conté had said,

“I am told he behaves like a madman where she is concerned and the stories of his jealousy are the chief topic of conversation in Madrid!”

‘Why was I such a stupid fool?' the Marquis asked himself.

Once again the Contessa had been a challenge and that was something he had never been able to resist.

Now he knew it was a vital challenge for him to save Lanthia.

He could imagine the terror she must have felt on being snatched away from the hotel and to know that he would not be able to even worry about her disappearance until he called on her before luncheon tomorrow.

It was by the grace of God that he had remembered somewhat belatedly that he wanted to send her flowers and that he had decided to leave them himself at
The Langham,
rather than have them sent round in the usual manner from the shop.

He could visualise her dismay and terror at what was happening to her, and it was with difficulty he did not order his coachman to go even faster than he was already.

He wished that he was driving himself and yet it would only delay them if he climbed up onto the box.

Every minute counted.

As they drove on he remembered the name of the Conté's yacht and thought that at least was a blessing.

When he had been dancing with the Contessa for the first and only time, he had said to her as they moved over the polished floor,

“You dance like a siren moving over the waves!”

His remark was a compliment to her sinuous body and the way she did glide in a way that was particularly her own.

The Contessa had laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” enquired the Marquis.

“Because my husband's yacht is called,
La Sirena
, and that is what he often calls me as well.”

‘
La Sirena
,' the Marquis now muttered to himself. ‘It makes matters a little easier, if one can apply that word to anything that is happening at the moment!'

The coachman knew his way to the Port of London Authority.

The Marquis frequently wished to moor his yacht at places that were not allowed to other yacht owners. At the Port of London Authority he had no difficulty in obtaining the permission he needed because the officers in charge were considerably impressed by his luxurious yacht.

Because he knew it would please the officers, he had invited them aboard the
Sea Horse
, as his yacht was called, and they had eagerly accepted his invitation.

They had enjoyed seeing all the innovations he had made on the
Sea Horse
and they had ended up drinking his health in champagne.

They told him his yacht was undoubtedly the finest that had ever been seen on the Thames and he knew that now this relationship would stand him in good stead.

It was supremely important he should reach Lanthia as quickly as possible.

He had to save her from being even more terrified than she must be already.

He could imagine nothing more petrifying for any young girl than to be forcibly kidnapped by a fanatical Spaniard and whisked away in his yacht to an unknown destination.

‘It is something she will never be able to forget and may affect her whole future,' thought the Marquis.

She had said that she would like to go exploring, but he could imagine that such a terrible experience as she was now suffering would only make her cling to everything familiar.

She might be afraid to venture out of her own front door again.

What was much worse the Conté might have hurt her physically in some horrible way.

‘If he has,' the Marquis told himself grimly, ‘I will kill him with my own bare hands!'

There was a little way still to go.

At last they turned down a familiar street and the Marquis sat apprehensively on the edge of his seat ready to spring out as soon as they arrived.

Almost before the horses were at a standstill he flung open the door himself and alighted.

He now ran straight into the Offices of the Port of London Authority and charged straight into the room of the Duty Officer in charge.

He opened the door unannounced.

As the Duty Officer looked up from his desk, the Marquis saw with relief that he was one of the officers he had met on previous occasions.

“My Lord!” the startled man exclaimed.

“This is an emergency,” the Marquis began sharply.

“A young lady has been forcibly abducted against her will and is being carried down the river in a yacht.

“I carry with me now the personal authority of Lord Salisbury, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, for you to arrest this very yacht immediately and search it on suspicion of involvement in white slave traffic and taking stolen goods out of the country!”

As the Officer stared in astonishment, the Marquis continued,

“I suspect it is only a matter of minutes before the yacht passes this point on the river. It is called
La Sirena
.”

Due to the urgency with which he had spoken and because the Duty Officer knew him, action was taken at once.

Two pilot vessels were given their orders and as the Marquis and the Duty Officer stepped on board one of them they moved out into the river.

It was with a feeling of relief that the Marquis had already been told that
La Sirena
had not yet sailed by.

Then as the pilot boat gathered speed, he could see the yacht speeding down the centre of the Thames moving swiftly with the tide.

It was with difficulty that the pilot boat brought the yacht to a standstill.

“What is wrong? Why are you stopping me?” the yacht's Captain shouted from the bridge.

He was speaking in English but with a pronounced Spanish accent.

The Marquis followed by two Officers boarded the yacht and then began a wordy argument as to whether they had a right to search the yacht. As the debate became even more heated another two Officers came aboard from the second pilot vessel.

The Captain was finally convinced that there was nothing he could do to prevent the Officers' boarding party from searching the boat to see if there was anything untoward that required their attention.

Because he was so reluctant, it was quite obvious to the Marquis that Lanthia was indeed aboard.

He went first into the Saloon with the Duty Officer, but there was nothing there to attract their attention.

At the same time the Marquis gave orders to two of the Officers to search in all the drawers and cupboards they could find.

Then they went below down the companionway.

It was now that the Marquis walked ahead, opening every cabin door, calling to Lanthia as he went.

One glance told him that each cabin was empty until, as he opened the fourth door, he found what he was seeking.

Lanthia had heard a noise outside the cabin door, but she did not scream because she believed it would only have brought one or more of the Spanish crew in to silence her.

She had no wish for them to see her tied up and helpless. To have them staring and gloating at her would be very humiliating.

The door opened.

She thought it was one of the men coming to check that she had not escaped from her ropes.

Then she saw the Marquis looking in at her.

“
Lanthia
!” he exclaimed in excitement and relief. “Thank God I have found you.”

She gave a little cry that he thought was the most moving sound he had ever heard.

“Oh,
you have come
– you have come. I prayed and prayed that you would hear me – but I thought now we had put to sea it was all hopeless.”

“I am here,” said the Marquis, “and I want to find out what that devil has done to you.”

He walked towards her and as he did so he drew something from his pocket and slipped it into a drawer of what appeared to be a dressing table on the other side of the cabin.

He did it so quickly that Lanthia with her eyes on his face was not aware of what he had done.

When he reached her and saw how she was bound and tied, it made him tighten his lips with anger.