The Incredible Honeymoon (Bantam Series No. 46) by Barbara Cartland Page A
Authors: Barbara Cartland
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he fancied that some of them were getting a trifle ‘foxed’.
The dinner had been superlative. The Chef had excelled himself in order to impress the Duke’s numerous relations who had accepted his invitation to stay at Doncaster Park for his wedding.
The Duke realised that most of them came with not only a sense of relief that he was doing his duty to the family so that he could produce an heir, but also considerable curiosity.
They had none of them met Antonia: their innumerable suggestions that he should take her to Receptions, Dinner - parties or even Balls in London for the purpose of introducing her to the family had met with no response.
‘There will be quite enough for them to talk about tomorrow,’ he thought.
As if the idea of his wedding weighed heavily upon him, the Duke made an excuse to the cousin sitting next to him and went from the Dining-Room, aware that most of the party had not noticed his departure.
He walked across the huge marble hall which in Adam’s inimitable manner was decorated with classical sculpture set in alcoves, and ignoring the row of attentive footmen, walked down the front steps.
Reaching the gravel sweep in front of the house he turned not towards the garden but to the stables.
It was later than he expected it to be. Already the sun had sunk and it was neither light nor dark but twilight which made the great mansion look like the Palace in a fairy tale.
The Duke had meant to arrive at his country home far earlier. He had in fact told Mr. Graham to notify Ives that he would ride over The Chase before dinner.
He had looked forward to doing this, because as the flat - racing season was nearly over he had decided that he would now concentrate on steeple-chasing.
Accordingly he had instructed Ives to have a number of Grand National fences set out on The Chase incorporating some of the new land he had just acquired from the Earl of Lemsford.
It was something he had planned to do for some years, and while he had been phenomenally successful on the flat he felt it was a challenge to see if he could train horses which could prove themselves over steeple-chasing courses.
The Grand National Handicap Steeplechase which had first been run in 1839, took place on the last week in March.
Steeple-chases had meant a good old hell-for-leather match race across any naturally fenced country that was available.
The sudden prominence of the Grand Liverpool Steeplechase as it was called, was due to the fact that it was the first jumping race for a really desirable prize.
Twelve hundred pounds was the purse in 1839.
It was four miles across country mostly heavily ploughed, with twenty-nine jumps in all, fifteen to be negotiated on the first round, fourteen on the second.
Two years ago in 1868 a horse called The Laird had won the race although he was only fifteen hands high and he had won it again this year, amid scenes of great enthusiasm.
The Duke was determined that in 1871 his colours would be first past the post!
He had bought a horse called Black Knight which he fancied might be exactly what he required. It was an exceptional animal in appearance, but although he had heard a great deal about its performance he wanted to try Black Knight out himself.
Unfortunately his plan had gone awry because the Marchioness had exerted every wile that she knew to keep him with her.
Like all women, having persuaded him to marry against his better judgment, she was now bitterly regretting that after to-morrow he would no longer be free.
“How can I bear to think of you on your honeymoon, Athol?” she asked. “And how will you bear three weeks, or will it be more, away from England and me?”
“I shall miss you, Clarice, you know that,” the Duke said automatically because it was expected of him.
“Promise that when you are in Paris you will think of me every minute, every moment!”
Her arms went round his neck as she said:
“It will not be your wife who perturbs me and makes me so
The dinner had been superlative. The Chef had excelled himself in order to impress the Duke’s numerous relations who had accepted his invitation to stay at Doncaster Park for his wedding.
The Duke realised that most of them came with not only a sense of relief that he was doing his duty to the family so that he could produce an heir, but also considerable curiosity.
They had none of them met Antonia: their innumerable suggestions that he should take her to Receptions, Dinner - parties or even Balls in London for the purpose of introducing her to the family had met with no response.
‘There will be quite enough for them to talk about tomorrow,’ he thought.
As if the idea of his wedding weighed heavily upon him, the Duke made an excuse to the cousin sitting next to him and went from the Dining-Room, aware that most of the party had not noticed his departure.
He walked across the huge marble hall which in Adam’s inimitable manner was decorated with classical sculpture set in alcoves, and ignoring the row of attentive footmen, walked down the front steps.
Reaching the gravel sweep in front of the house he turned not towards the garden but to the stables.
It was later than he expected it to be. Already the sun had sunk and it was neither light nor dark but twilight which made the great mansion look like the Palace in a fairy tale.
The Duke had meant to arrive at his country home far earlier. He had in fact told Mr. Graham to notify Ives that he would ride over The Chase before dinner.
He had looked forward to doing this, because as the flat - racing season was nearly over he had decided that he would now concentrate on steeple-chasing.
Accordingly he had instructed Ives to have a number of Grand National fences set out on The Chase incorporating some of the new land he had just acquired from the Earl of Lemsford.
It was something he had planned to do for some years, and while he had been phenomenally successful on the flat he felt it was a challenge to see if he could train horses which could prove themselves over steeple-chasing courses.
The Grand National Handicap Steeplechase which had first been run in 1839, took place on the last week in March.
Steeple-chases had meant a good old hell-for-leather match race across any naturally fenced country that was available.
The sudden prominence of the Grand Liverpool Steeplechase as it was called, was due to the fact that it was the first jumping race for a really desirable prize.
Twelve hundred pounds was the purse in 1839.
It was four miles across country mostly heavily ploughed, with twenty-nine jumps in all, fifteen to be negotiated on the first round, fourteen on the second.
Two years ago in 1868 a horse called The Laird had won the race although he was only fifteen hands high and he had won it again this year, amid scenes of great enthusiasm.
The Duke was determined that in 1871 his colours would be first past the post!
He had bought a horse called Black Knight which he fancied might be exactly what he required. It was an exceptional animal in appearance, but although he had heard a great deal about its performance he wanted to try Black Knight out himself.
Unfortunately his plan had gone awry because the Marchioness had exerted every wile that she knew to keep him with her.
Like all women, having persuaded him to marry against his better judgment, she was now bitterly regretting that after to-morrow he would no longer be free.
“How can I bear to think of you on your honeymoon, Athol?” she asked. “And how will you bear three weeks, or will it be more, away from England and me?”
“I shall miss you, Clarice, you know that,” the Duke said automatically because it was expected of him.
“Promise that when you are in Paris you will think of me every minute, every moment!”
Her arms went round his neck as she said:
“It will not be your wife who perturbs me and makes me so
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