Part 19 (1/2)
They had taken him to a Convent where the nuns were caring for a number of wounded men too ill to be moved to the hospitals in Toulouse or Bordeaux.
They had at first, Rodney related, thought it would be impossible to save his life, but, when gradually after some months he could think and speak, he found he had lost his memory.
”I had not the slightest idea of my name or even that I was English,” he explained.
”And you did not remember me?” Beryl asked.
He had his arms round her as he told them the story. Now he looked down at her with an expression of love in his eyes that made Torilla know that her cousin's happiness was a.s.sured for all time.
”You were, my darling, the first person I remembered and when I came back to sanity,” he said, ”I saw your lovely face very clearly, but your name escaped me.”
”It is the a same as a yours,” Beryl added with a little sob.
”I only knew that later,” Rodney answered and kissed her forehead.
”Go on!” the Countess begged, ”I must hear the end of the story.”
”It was only three weeks ago,” Rodney said, ”that suddenly something which must have blocked my mind cleared and I remembered everything! I awoke one morning to know my name, my Regiment and who was my wife!”
His arms tightened around Beryl as he went on, ”I knew then that the only thing that mattered was that I should get back to you, my precious.”
”Why did it take you so long?”
”To begin with, as I had no money, I had to get to Paris,” Rodney replied, ”I knew that the British Emba.s.sy would help me, and I was not mistaken. Our Amba.s.sador believed the story I had to tell and paid my fare back to England.”
”And quite right too,” the Earl remarked.
”When I reached Dover, I bought an English newspaper to see what had been happening here,” Rodney went on, ”and almost the first thing I read was the report that my wife was to be married the following day.”
”Oh, darling were you a horrified?” Beryl questioned.
”I was determined to stop the wedding,” Rodney said firmly, ”and I have succeeded.”
”You are not a angry?” she asked in a very small voice, ”that I should have agreed to a marry anyone a else?”
She had forgotten, Torilla realised, that there was anyone else present and she was speaking to Rodney as if they were alone on a magical island.
And that in fact was where they were, she thought, alone and together and what was outside the circle of their happiness was of no significance.
There was so much more to hear, but Rodney was quite positive in what he wished to do.
”I want a bath, my darling,” he said to Beryl, ”and afterwards I would like to rest. Tomorrow morning early we will go home.”
He saw the question in her eyes and added, ”I would not want my mother to suffer any longer.”
”No, of course not,” Beryl agreed, ”and I want to see your mother and father's happiness when you walk into the house after they have mourned you for so long.”
Everything was arranged just as Rodney wanted it and Torilla knew that that was exactly how Beryl's life would run in the future.
Because she loved Rodney he would always be her Master. The Social world had seen the last of the 'incomparable' a the girl who had Social ambitions and who wanted to be an important hostess covered in diamonds.
All Beryl would want in the future was to be with Rodney and together they had the only thing which really mattered a their love.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
The stagecoach trundled down the Great North Road, stopping at every village and crossroads.
It had left London at seven o'clock from The Lamb at Islington and Torilla knew they would be stopping soon at Baldock for the pa.s.sengers to have a light repast.
She was almost oblivious to the discomfort of sitting squashed between two countrywomen and hardly noticed that a small boy was dropping pieces of chocolate on her muslin gown.
Deep in her thoughts, she had only aroused herself when the coach reached Hatfield to think of Beryl and Rodney and knew how happy they must be together.
She had not left London immediately after the interrupted wedding, as she had meant to do, because the Earl had hurried back to Hertfords.h.i.+re and her aunt had looked rather helplessly at the huge collection of presents.
”These will all have to go back,” she sighed, ”and although the servants can pack them up I will have to find the addresses of the senders.”
”I will help you, Aunt Louise,” Torilla said and for once the Countess seemed grateful for her a.s.sistance.
They worked hard for the next three days and when only a few anonymous parcels remained without addresses, the Countess said, ”I only hope some of our so-called friends will have the graciousness to return these gifts to Beryl and a Rodney.”
There was a note in her voice, which told Torilla all too clearly how deeply her aunt regretted that Beryl had not made the brilliant Social marriage she had hoped for.
”Beryl is very happy, Aunt Louise,” she said, and it was in fact an a.s.surance she had repeated a dozen times already.
”She had so many chances,” the Countess replied, ”but Rodney Marsden a !”
It was unnecessary for her to say more.
Then, as if a thought suddenly struck her, the Countess said briskly, ”Now I have time to think about you, Torilla, and I am sure that Lord Arkley has not forgotten you. We must ask him to dinner.”
Torilla had risen to her feet.
”I must go back to Papa, Aunt Louise. He is a expecting me.”
The Countess considered for a moment.
”Perhaps Lord Arkley, like everyone else, will have left London now that the Prince has gone to Brighton.”
She looked at Torilla as if appraising her looks, then she added, ”Go to your father now if you wish, but I will write to him and invite you to stay in September. Then Torilla, I will entertain for you.”
Torilla realised that her aunt was transferring her ambitions for Beryl to herself, but she knew it was hopeless to say that she had no intention of marrying anyone other than one person a and he had disappeared!
She had half expected, although she thought it might prove impossible, that the Marquis would send her a note or possibly a verbal message after Rodney had stopped the wedding.
But the Marquis had become invisible.