Jack Compton's Luck

What was preventing him from being a little more urgent with her was that he was hanging on to his self-control by a thread. If Lacey had been surprised by the strength of her reactions to him, Jack was equally surprised by the depths of passion which he was plumbing while he was simply squiring Lacey round an Amusement Park!

This time the kiss was both long and slow. Lacey had her back to the wall of one of the booths, her arms around his neck, and was standing on tiptoe so that she could enjoy as much of him as possible.

The kiss went on and on and became more and more passionate. His wicked tongue parted her lips and danced with hers and when Jack, for very self-preservation, pulled away from her, her swollen face and lips told him that she was as roused as he was.

For a moment, they stared at one another, lost not only to the crowd, but to themselves, almost unable to speak since time and place had disappeared too. When speech returned to them, it was Lacey who spoke first.

‘Much though I am enjoying myself,’ she murmured breathlessly, ‘and would love to prolong it, we really ought to behave ourselves and join the others. Aunt Sue will be thinking that I’ve been kidnapped by White Slavers and that you have been left for dead somewhere.’

‘True,’ said Jack again, slowly returning to the realities of the everyday world, if being in an Amusement Park at the Exhibition could be called the real world! ‘George told us all that if we became lost we should return to the main entrance by five o’clock and I calculate that we have just about time to do that.’

They found most of the party there, waiting for them and several others who had been playing hookey, as Lacey called it when they were on the way back.

Aunt Sue hissed at her, ‘Wherever have you been? Peregrine wanted to escort you, but you were nowhere to be found. He was particularly interested in the Trade Pavilion.’

‘Well, I was particularly interested in the Amusement Park,’ returned Lacey naughtily, ‘so Jack took me there.’

‘He would,’ her aunt hissed again, meaningfully this time.

‘Well, he could scarcely make improper advances to me on the roller coaster when we were clinging on to our seats for dear life, so you needn’t have worried, Aunt. I was quite safe. I’m sorry to have disappointed Peregrine, but he should have made his wants known to me, not you.’

She did not add that off the roller coaster had been the place for advances from Jack, but since they could not be called improper, they were hardly relevant.

‘On the carpet, were you?’ whispered Jack to her when he had manoeuvred them both into the back seat of the Chancellors’ Rolls. He knew an angry Aunt Sue when he saw her.

It was Lacey’s turn to hiss. ‘Ssh, Jack. I didn’t believe all those stories of your wild youth when we first met, but now—’ and she rolled her eyes theatrically, ‘I am beginning to find out why you were nicknamed Fighting Jack.’

‘Oh, you don’t know the half of it, my girl.’ Jack was determined to enjoy himself in the short time he had left with her since she was equally determined to join him in having fun. Tomorrow it would be home and duty and the grinding task of trying to keep the Comptons solvent. To say nothing of finding out what was so obviously worrying his brother.

The day was not yet quite over, though. Richard, who had proved to be Lacey’s much older half-brother, met Cousin George’s party in the entrance hall of his Park Lane home where he had arranged for a late tea to be served to them. He was leaving to keep yet another appointment, he said, and apologised for not being able to entertain them in person.

‘Sorry I couldn’t go with you this afternoon,’ he announced cheerfully. ‘Duty and all that. George, here, being a civil servant, can call his pleasure, duty, but a simple business chap like myself hasn’t that option—as you can now see.’

Simple, he called himself—simple, he certainly wasn’t, Jack thought. Lacey introduced him to Jack, although Jack thought that he had almost certainly met Richard years ago, before the war.

‘Fighting Jack, isn’t it?’ he remarked cordially. ‘We met at Ascot in ‘13, I think. Squiring young Miss, were you? Come to dinner tonight as a thank-you, you deserve it.’ This was all said with the greatest good humour.

Jack accepted the invitation to dinner, even though he had packed his evening wear before he had left for the lawyers that morning and would now have to unpack it. It would give him yet another chance to meet Lacey and take a last memory of her home to Sussex.

‘Though I don’t think that I really deserve a thank you,’ he ended, ‘it was a most enjoyable afternoon.’

Lacey murmured, her eyes twinkling mischief, ‘I think that Jack enjoyed himself on the roller coaster as much as I did.’

‘I’m sure he did,’ smiled Richard, looking knowing.

Later that evening, before the guests arrived for dinner, he remarked to Lacey, to Aunt Sue’s annoyance, ‘Young Compton’s better than your average escort. He had a good war and gave up a promising career in the Army in order to try to improve the family fortunes. His brother Will is a helpless cripple—war wounds, of course. The other brother was killed at Passchendaele.’

‘I know,’ Lacey said simply. ‘He’s not at all like his cousin Rupert or any of the other young men I have met over here. He takes life seriously.’

One thing she had already privately decided: that London season or no London season, she would be off to Sussex as soon as decently possible!

Chapter Three

‘I hope that you didn’t rush home for my sake,’ said Will anxiously.

Jack’s answer was robust. He always did his elder brother the honour of speaking to him as though he were still the hearty athlete he had once been and not a man paralysed from the waist down and confined to a wheelchair. ‘I came home for mine. I’ve too damned much to do here without wasting my time in London.’

‘Did you meet anyone interesting?’

‘Cousin Rupert—who is apparently in hock to the money-lenders. He always was a bit of an ass. Richard Chancellor—he asked to be remembered to you. The Chancellors are now even more enormously rich than ever, I gather, with interests in oil in the States. Oh, and Darcey, his cousin. A more sensible chap than our cousin Rupert from the sound of it. Rupert was behaving very badly, up one minute, down the next.’

He deliberately didn’t mention Lacey. If nothing came of their sudden romance then, so far as Will was concerned, what the heart doesn’t know, the heart can’t grieve. Good God, that was yet another ghastly saying of his old nurse’s which had popped into his head after many years’ absence! He was so busy lamenting its reappearance that he only just heard Will’s next question.

‘No interesting young women, then?’

‘Come, come, Will, by interesting do you mean, beautiful, glamorous or rich?’

‘All three rolled into one gorgeous package would be useful,’ sighed Will, ‘but rare, one supposes. You must admit that if you found one and married her all our money troubles would be over.’

Lacey Chancellor certainly fitted that bill, was Jack’s inward and clichéd response, but fortune hunting was not his game, and so he told Will.

This brought on another attack of sighing from his brother. Jack thought that Will looked frailer than ever. He was leaning back in his chair, a blanket over his knees and a scarf round his neck even though the day was a warm one.

They were seated on the terrace which looked out over the neglected park where a few sheep were grazing. The folly at the end looked more broken down than he had remembered it, while the state of the ha-ha was even more disastrous. On the whole, though, it was probably better to be sitting in the open rather than in the house whose every room reminded the brothers of the splendour which had vanished and which was beginning to look increasingly unlikely to be restored.

‘I’m not in the market for fortune hunting.’ Jack was short.

‘Pity,’ sighed Will. ‘I had the local bank manager round the other day about our account there. He was surprised to find you in London.’

‘Was he, indeed? I suppose that we ought to be grateful that rather than summon us brusquely to his parlour he still cares to visit us. What did he have to say?’

‘That we ought to sell some more land to help our finances and improve our living conditions.’

Jack frowned. ‘I don’t like the thought of selling any more land. We have little enough left to farm profitably as it is. Besides, our main account is at Coutts, as he knows.’

‘I don’t exactly like the thought of selling it myself,’ admitted Will, ‘but do I have the right to tie you to this sinking ship? Things might yet take a turn for the worse. You’ve sacrificed enough already—and to what end?’

Jack tried to reassure him. ‘That we are not quite in such a desperate state as we were when the war was over. A little more than a hundred years ago we were in a similar predicament when young Sir Jack inherited and pulled us round again.’

Will was sighing again and looking worried. Jack wondered why. ‘It was easier for him,’ he said ruefully. ‘Now we live in an age which sees something wrong with inherited land and titles. Consequently the kind of deference which young Jack almost certainly received, and which helped us to survive and prosper until the damned War came along, has almost disappeared.’

‘You mean that bank managers didn’t descend on us with ultimatums—or should it be ultimata?—we sent for them at our leisure.’

‘Something like that,’ said Will.

‘Is this why you wished me to come home as soon as possible?’

‘Not quite. There is something else, just as worrying. In fact, to be honest, much more so. It’s my fault as well.’