Читать книгу Ambition's Slave - Fred M. White - Страница 4

Table of Contents

THE pretty little Beatrice clung somewhat unsteadily to the arm of her companion. She was just a trifle frightened that he had recognized her a little earlier in the evening, because the man of law had followed her pretty steadily of late.

Of all the pretty girls out that season none had attracted more attention than Maude Beaumont. To begin with, she had no dragon to protect her, nothing more than an invalid mother, who rarely went out into Society. Maude had health and beauty, moreover she was just one and twenty, and her large fortune was absolutely at her disposal.

She had her own gentle but effectual way of getting rid of the many lovers who had cast themselves at her feet. But there were two that she could not shake off—that eminent barrister and member of Parliament, Clifford Desborough, and Mr. Minter's private secretary, Christopher, otherwise Kit Clive.

Kit was all right, a handsome, clever fellow, with a clear eye and an honest face, so honest that Maude wondered why he had remained two years with Minter. For Maude was the one particular friend of Lady Mary Minter, and her opportunities for meeting with the handsome private secretary were many.

But Clifford Desborough, K.C., followed her up with a pertinacity that frightened her. He had let her know pretty well that he intended to marry her, and he belonged to the class of men who generally get their own way.

In his own way, the keen man of law admired Maude; indeed, he loved her so far as he could love anything outside his ambition. Maude had money and birth; with a rich wife Desborough might have become Prime Minister.

To-night he had determined to settle his fate one way or another. He had allowed Maude to know that from his manner. She was glad that her face was masked. He had asked her to come outside in the corridor with him and against herself she had complied. It was weak of her, but there was a certain fascination about this man. Maude would have turned back, but it was too late now.

Was there nobody at hand to deliver her? Yes? Her heart throbbed hopefully as Minter rose from a seat close by and barred their further progress. With characteristic bluntness Minter went to the point.

"Very sorry to trouble you, Desborough," he said. "And you, too, Miss Beaumont. No use either of you trying to disguise yourselves from me. I've got a most important message for you, Desborough. If Miss Beaumont will excuse me—"

"Oh, don't mind me!" Maude said hastily. "I can wait!"

She scudded hurriedly away, so hurriedly that she ran almost into the arms of a man dressed in the period of Charles of pious memory.

"Well, if the gods are not good to me to-night!" he said.

"Mr. Clive?" said Maude. "But how did you know me?"

"Lady Mary gave you away," said Chris coolly. "Knowing that she could never keep a secret, I got a description of your dress from her. Isn't it hot? Let us go down and sit at the end of the corridor. There's a little place there known only to myself."

In his breezy, cheerful way he slipped Maude's arm through his own. He did not fail to note that she was trembling violently. The little alcove was cool and secluded. Clive took off his mask, and Maude did the same. Afar off the band was playing, there was a splash of water somewhere near. The colour gradually came back to Maude's cheeks.

"What has been frightening you?" Clive asked.

He looked down tenderly into his companion's face There was a strong, manly air about him that appealed to the girl. He was so different from the rest, he never followed her, he never deferred his opinion to hers, and the admiration of his eyes was honest and sincere.

"I have had a narrow escape," she said, with an unsteady smile.

"Oh, indeed! Somebody been trying to run away with you?"

"Well, not quite that," Maude said, as she fanned herself slowly. "Mr. Clive, have you ever been in love in your life?"

"I have had the fever at times," Chris said. "But not sincerely till lately. Why?"

"Oh, because—well, I don't know. I have always been afraid of being married for my money. It would be such a horrible thing, you know."

"Oh! So you are uncertain as to whether a certain gentleman—"

Maude nodded. Clive's sunny face looked a little grave.

"If you happen to care for him," he began, "why then—"

"But I don't, I am sure that I don't. He fascinates me. When I am with him I feel that I am bound to do just as he tells me. And at the same time I know perfectly well that he cares for nothing else but his ambition. He wants money to push him on in the world."

Clive nodded. He began to understand.

"That description applies to Clifford Desborough," he said.

"How clever you are," Maude cried. "Sometimes I think I like him, and sometimes he frightens me. It would be a grand thing to be wife of a cabinet minister, but to think he only married you as a kind of ornament to his office! To think that one might have a life like Lady Mary!"

"Lady Mary is quite happy in her way," Clive said coolly. "So long as she has plenty of money and pretty toys to play with she is perfectly contented. But you are different. You are not married to a scoundrel like Minter."

"And yet you remain his private secretary?"

"Because I can't help it," Clive replied. "My father made his money in the city, but not quite in the same way that Minter does. When he died, he made it a sine qua non that I should spend five years in active business. Minter took me over, so to speak, from a man who died. A few weeks more, and I am free. No city for me after September. Still, the time has not been wasted."

"Then you are not dependent on your work for your living?"

"I've got a great deal more money than you," Clive said coolly, "so you need not look upon me with a suspicious eye at any rate. But I'm going to show you a means of getting rid of Desborough's attention."

Maude's face flushed, and she smiled.

"If you only would," she said eagerly. "If you only knew how he frightens and fascinates me. And he is hard and unfeeling."

Maude's hands went out to her companion impulsively. He caught them and held them in his strong grip and grasp that thrilled her. Then he drew her close to him, so that he could look down into her beautiful, troubled eyes.

"Marry me, darling," he whispered. "Maude, I have known you for a year or more now. During that time we have been good friends. And the longer I have known you the greater is my love for you. Fortunately there is nothing to be said against me on the score of my position. As a poor secretary I could not have spoken. And I have always felt that you liked me, Maude. If you can come to love me—"

He paused, and looked into the rosy, flushed face. There was a smile on the girl's lips, and something like tears in her eyes. A light broke in upon Clive.

"Maude," he whispered. "Maude, do you care for me a little bit?"

She slipped her arms about his neck. There was happiness in her eyes now.

"I love you," she said. "I loved you all the time, and I never knew it. It was only when you spoke that a veil seemed to fall away, and I could read my own heart clearly. But I never thought that you—"

"Well, other people did," Clive said joyously. "Foolish as she is, Lady Mary knows. In spite of her follies and extravagances, she is a good woman at heart, and nobody will be more pleased. And to think that you did not know!"

"Perhaps I did," Maude said shyly. "And so my troubles are ended. I was terribly afraid that I should have to marry Mr. Desborough."

"Nobody but me," whispered Clive as he gathered her his arms. "I shall take an opportunity of letting Mr. Desborough know of the little arrangement to-night, and there will be an end of him so far as we are concerned."

Maude lay back on her lover's shoulder with a little sigh of relief. It was all so sweet and so fair, and so different from what she had expected. And to think that she had loved Kit Clive all this time without being in the least aware of the fact! It was a long time before they returned to the ball-room. Most of the guests were unmasked as supper had been announced. Clifford Desborough was standing by the door as if anxiously looking for somebody. His face was white and set, his eyes were glittering with a steady, gleaming fire.

"I have been looking for you everywhere," he said to Maude. His voice was hoarse and hard.

"We've been away on business," said Clive cheerfully.

"Congratulate me. We shall want your advice later on over the marriage settlements."

Desborough bowed and smiled mechanically. He bent his face low to hide its sudden pallor.

"Good Heavens!" he muttered. "That cord snapped too! When is it going to end?"