The Importance of Love (11 page)

At last the door opened and Mr. Jones's previous client emerged. Before he had put his hat on and left, Frank Connolly had barged his way into the inner office.

“You said you had something for me. Well, what is it?”

His watery eyes bulged and his ruddy face wore an air of expectation.

“There have been positive sightings of the ladies in question,” Mr. Jones informed him. “Shopping at Harrods yesterday afternoon, for example.”

“Do you expect me to lounge around Harrods all day on the off-chance of finding them? I need an address of where they are staying.”

“Mr. Connolly, your, erhem, sister-in-law appears to be travelling around London in a rather fine and speedy carriage. I am afraid that I have not, as yet, been able to discover their exact location – ”

“Well, get on to it, man! It is most urgent that I speak with Miss Ridgeway. You do not seem to understand.”

Mr. Jones eyed the red-faced man who now leaned over the desk at him. He did not care for this client in the least and he was certain that the lady he was stalking was not his sister-in-law at all.

But it was not his business to ask questions when the client was paying so handsomely for his services.

Frank Connolly pulled a large denomination note out of his pocket and threw it on the desk in front of Mr. Jones.

“Is this enough? Find them before the end of the week and you shall receive another of these. Whatever it costs, I will pay.
But find her
.”

He spun on his heel and left the office. Mr. Jones let out a sigh of relief as he folded the note into four and tucked it into his wallet.

He had his suspicions who the expensive carriage belonged to, but first he wanted to be sure.

He waited for a while and then, picking up his bowler hat from the coat stand, he informed his secretary that he would be out for the rest of the day.

His destination was only a short walk to the other side of Oxford Street and he would have to hurry if he was to catch his prey returning from an afternoon out.

‘These ladies are creatures of habit,' he murmured, as he walked quickly along James Street. ‘They should be returning any time now.'

*

Luella and the Countess climbed down from their carriage with a sense of exhaustion. They had visited all the most famous galleries in London and had taken tea at the Ritz.

Now with aching feet, they were looking forward to a quiet evening and one of Mrs. Bellamy's delicious meals.

As Luella helped her aunt down the carriage steps, she glanced across the road and noticed a man in a bowler hat hanging around near a tree.

“Do you know, Aunt Edith, I am certain we saw that man in Harrods yesterday afternoon, and he was in Hyde Park when we went for our walk the other morning. Do you recall how I remarked about him and joked that he was following us?”

Even though she attempted to make a joke of it, Luella was deathly pale. There was only one thought in her mind as to who might be responsible – and that was Frank Connolly.

The Countess stood on the pavement and put her lorgnette to her eye.

“Why, you are right, Luella, and I do believe he is up to no good.”

Before Luella could stop her, the Countess was striding across the road waving her umbrella menacingly.

“You sir,” she called. “Be off with you or I will call the Police. I have your description and do not think for a moment that I am a frail old woman who will not carry out her threat.”

Mr. Jones quickly ran down the street. He knew a formidable woman when he saw one. The Countess followed him for a few yards before she judged that she had chased him away.

‘No harm done,' he told himself, as he sped around the corner. ‘That is the Countess of Ridgeway all right and they are staying at Lord Kennington's place, just as I suspected. Mr. Connolly will be pleased – very pleased indeed.'

The Countess was quite out of breath by the time she returned to the house. She had only given chase for a few yards, but had thoroughly enjoyed every moment.

Luella, however, was in the drawing room, sobbing her heart out.

“He has found us!
He has found us
!” she moaned, wringing her handkerchief. “That man is a private detective. I know it.”

“He has been sent packing now,” crowed the Countess proudly. “But I think we should curtail our stay in London and pack our boxes tonight. It is a pity, but Frank Connolly has ruined what was a very pleasant interlude.”

“We cannot go to Scotland – it is the first place he will come looking for us.” “What do you suggest?”

“Can we not return to Torr House? You could telephone Lord Kennington and beg him to give us sanctuary once again.”

The Countess thought for a moment and then, quietly asked Bellamy to put in a telephone call to Torr House.

“Please fetch me as soon as the exchange puts you through,” she said, returning to the drawing room to comfort Luella as best she could.

Ten minutes later the telephone in the hall rang and Bellamy came in to inform them that their call had been connected.

“His Lordship is on the line, my Lady, and is waiting to speak with you.”

The Countess quickly outlined their predicament to the Viscount.

“Frank Connolly has engaged a private detective to track us down and he has succeeded in locating us. Might we impose upon your hospitality again and return to Devon?

I do not think he could find us there.”

“And Luella?”

“She is distraught as you can imagine.”

“Oh, my poor darling!” The Countess smiled to herself as she thought, ‘I am right in thinking that the Viscount is deeply in love with Luella. He will
not
spurn her when she tells him her secret.'

“Lord Kennington, it is not safe for us to remain here.”

“Then, you must make all haste back to Devon. Will you instruct Bellamy to have your things packed and the carriage made ready? He must also find out what time the next train leaves Paddington for Exeter and I will have Bennett pick you up. Just tell Bellamy to inform me of the time you expect your train to arrive.”

“Thank you, Lord Kennington. You do not know how grateful we are to you.”

“It will be a long journey, but there is not a moment to lose,” replied the Viscount, anxiety creeping into his deep voice. “If Frank Connolly really has discovered where you are, he will be relentless. In the meantime tell the servants not to admit anyone to the house and any callers are to be told that you have left for Scotland. If needs be, we must send him on a wild goose chase.”

The Countess replaced the telephone on the stand and returned to the drawing room where Luella sat still crying.

“It is all in order,” she told her. “Bellamy is having our boxes packed and the carriage made ready. I suggest that we leave via the mews at the rear so that if, by any chance, the front of the house is being watched, we shall depart undetected.”

“How can you be certain that he will not attempt to creep up on us there?”

“Luella, for all his airs, Frank Connolly is a rather stupid and unsophisticated individual. It should not be difficult to outwit him. Now, come, we must get ready and quickly.”

But Luella, rather than flying upstairs, remained rooted to the spot.

“I –
cannot
.”

“Luella, you must. We cannot remain here. If that man is employed by Frank Connolly, then he will have gone straight to inform him of our whereabouts. We must make haste.”

Luella stared at her in utter misery. Her face was blotched and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

“I do not think I can face another flight from him. Perhaps it would be better if I simply succumbed and married him.”

“Luella! You must not say such things!” cried her aunt, drawing herself up to her full height. “I will not hear of it. What the Viscount said to me just now on the telephone has left me in no doubt that he is deeply in love with you. Dearest, you have a chance for happiness – you must endure the present difficulties, I beg you.”

Luella remained on the sofa, uncertain what to do. She knew she loved the Viscount, but Frank Connolly had all but beaten the fight out of her.

“I am so tired of fleeing from him,” she murmured, shaking her head. “
So very tired
.”

“This will be your last flight, I promise you,” coaxed Aunt Edith. “Now, come with me and wash your face. We shall stay upstairs if you feel safer, but I am certain that Bellamy will not let anyone past the front door.”

Eventually Luella allowed herself to be led upstairs.

“We must take only the bare necessities with us,” said the Countess. “I will have Bellamy arrange for the remainder to be sent directly to Scotland. It might provide a useful decoy for us, if this detective sees our luggage being taken off to King's Cross and not Paddington.”

Once she had been persuaded, it did not take Luella long to pack some things into a suitcase and wait for Bellamy to tell them it was time to leave.

“The driver is ready for you, my Lady.”

Bellamy was a big burly man and as he stood in the doorway he seemed to fill it. The Countess reckoned that he would more than acquit himself favourably should Frank Connolly become physically violent.

“Thank you, Bellamy. I shall tell Lord Kennington how kind you have been.”

“It is nothing, my Lady. You are guests in his Lordship's house and he would expect me to do nothing less than I have already done.” They were halfway down the back stairs when there came a terrible knocking on the front door.

They froze in their steps as the noise echoed throughout the house.

Bellamy looked at the Countess whose face wore a grim expression. She knew the knocking could mean only one thing. Frank Connolly had found them.

“Quickly, my Lady. If we get down the stairs to the kitchen, I will go and open the front door. I shall enjoy sending this man packing.”

Bellamy led them through the scullery and out into the yard. Luella could hear the horses snorting as soon as they were outside and they hurried towards the carriage.

“Let me in, you bounder.”

Frank Connolly's harsh voice was so loud that it could be heard in the mews at the rear of the house. Luella froze as it echoed along the quiet street.

“Luella, Bellamy will take care of him. Get into the carriage now.”

The Countess was gentle but firm. She took her niece by the arm and steered her up the steps and into the phaeton's welcoming interior of comfortably upholstered velvet and polished wooden beading.

Meanwhile Bellamy was relishing every second as he stood in the hall and waited for the appropriate moment to open the front door.

Frank Connolly's hammering was ever more insistent as he straightened his jacket and passed one spade-like hand over his hair.

Pushing down the latch, he opened the door. He towered over the rather short and dumpy Frank Connolly, who was by now purple with rage.

“Where is she? I know she's in there. Step aside, man, and let me pass.”

“I am sorry, sir, but I cannot admit you. There is no one at home.”

“Nonsense, Luella is here, I know she is. I demand to see her!”

“There is no lady of that name in this house at this precise moment,” said Bellamy truthfully. “They left for Scotland an hour or so ago.”

Frank Connolly was taken aback.

His mind whirled as he tried to think. Had not Jones said he had seen them at the house that afternoon at about five thirty? How could they be on their way to Scotland?

“You are lying, man, now fetch her at once, you bounder!”

Bellamy stood in the doorway so that he blocked the electric light in the passage and filled the frame. Puffing out his chest he spoke quietly, but firmly,

“Sir, they are not here. Now, I suggest you leave quietly and at once, otherwise I shall telephone the Police.”

“Will you now?”

Frank Connolly squared up to the huge butler and looked him straight in the eye.

“Is everything all right, sir?”

Frank Connolly spun round to find himself staring straight at two Policemen who stood on the street behind him. His mouth fell open and words would not come.

“I am glad you are here, Officers,” said Bellamy in a voice like liquid silk. “This gentleman is being aggressive and unpleasant. He is threatening to gain forceful entry into Lord Kennington's house while he is away.”

The two Policemen did not hesitate. They flanked him and, with one swift movement, clapped a pair of handcuffs on him before he knew what was happening.

“If you'll just come down to the Station with us, sir.”

Bellamy smiled and nodded appreciatively. Had he been forced to do so, he would have restrained Frank Connolly in any manner he saw necessary. The timely intervention of the two Police Officers was a great stroke of fortune.

“Come along, sir, do not resist arrest.”

Within moments, Frank Connolly was being marched back down South Audley Street, protesting all the while at the top of his voice.

As they crossed into Mount Street, the carriage containing Luella and her aunt rounded the opposite corner. Frank Connolly paid them no heed, being too furious with the Policemen who were frogmarching him towards the Police Station.

“Well. Good riddance to Frank Connolly. Hopefully we have seen the last of him,” exclaimed the Countess with thinly disguised relief.

“We are still going to Devon though aren't we?” asked Luella timidly.

“Of course, child. We cannot remain in London. No, we will take the train to Exeter. But for now Frank Connolly has got his just desserts!”

*

Much later, when they were safely ensconced on the train, Luella began to mull over in her mind what she would say to the Viscount.

‘He will inevitably ask me if I have considered his proposal, but how can I accept without telling him the whole truth?'

She cast a glance at Aunt Edith who was asleep in the seat opposite. The day's events had taken their toll and she suddenly looked shockingly old.