The Importance of Love (7 page)

“Oh, I could not impose,” cried Luella.

“Miss Ridgeway, I cannot have you wandering the roads of North Devon with an ill relative,” replied the Viscount firmly. “Cork, have the Countess brought inside at once and take her to the blue room. Then send for the doctor.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Really, you must not go to any trouble.”

“I would not hear of your travelling to the next town,” the Viscount insisted, ushering Luella into the drawing room. “Now Cork will bring you some refreshments and we shall put your aunt to bed. One of the maids will sit with her until the doctor arrives. If you will excuse me, I must go and change as I have been working since early this morning and am not at my best.”

With a short bow the Viscount left the room and Luella stared after him.

‘What a fine-looking fellow,' she murmured as he closed the door. Very soon, Mrs. Cork bustled into the room with another servant who carried a tray of tea and sandwiches.

“His Lordship will not be dining until half-past eight, miss, so he thought you might care for something light to eat after your journey.”

She bent closer to Luella and whispered,

“And don't you worry. We've sent that rascal of a coachman packing. Your aunt is in bed now and a maid is looking after her. The doctor will be here soon and we will call you when he arrives.”

“Thank you very much. You are all being
so
kind.”

“We've always taken care of visitors at Torr House,” said Mrs. Cork. “And I can see you are strangers here. Now eat your sandwiches and I'll come and fetch you when your room is ready.”

‘Who is this Viscount?' she asked herself. ‘And what is he doing in this shabby house?'

She rose and examined an oil painting on the wall of a lady in a ball gown. Judging by her apparel, Luella thought that it had been painted some twenty or thirty years earlier.

“How beautiful she is,” she declared. “Such wondrous eyes!”

“Yes, she is rather lovely, isn't she?” came a voice from behind her. “She was French, you know.”

She turned around to see the Viscount standing in the doorway.

He had changed and was wearing a well-cut shirt and waistcoat over smart trousers. His shirt was open at the neck and his dark hair fell forward on one side in a highly attractive manner. His brown eyes were lively under black eyebrows.

“Is she a relative?” asked Luella a little self-consciously.

“No, she was – a family friend. I see that Mrs. Cork has attended to you?”

“Yes, thank you. It is most kind of you.”

“Think nothing of it, Miss Ridgeway. I am a stranger myself to these parts and would hope that were I in the same position, someone would do likewise for me.”

“What brings you to Bideford, if I may ask?” she said, fluttering her eyelashes as she looked up at him.

The Viscount found himself compelled to gaze into her blue eyes as they met his.

“My grandfather left me this house when he died recently. I hankered after a change in scenery as I had tired of London and this house offered me a unique opportunity. I am an architect, you see – or at least, I trained as such.”

“So you have great plans for this house?” asked Luella sitting down again.

The Viscount noticed the shy way she regarded him. She tilted her head downwards and cast her eyes upwards in a manner that was rather beguiling. Lost in the moment he hesitated before replying.

“Yes, I wish to remodel the existing house and add to it. It would be a pity to tear down a fine house such as this and start again and I often find myself outraged at what has been done to many fine old houses in the name of progress and modernity.”

“Well spoken,” she agreed. “I am much of the same opinion. In France they do not tear down an old house because it is out of fashion. They respect the past.”

“So, what finds
you
in the West Country?” he enquired, leaning on the mantelpiece and crossing one leg over the other.

Luella hesitated and then took a deep breath.

“I hope you will not think ill of me when I tell you – ” she sighed, taking out a handkerchief and wrapping it around her delicate hands.

“You are not an infamous woman on the run from the Police, I hope!”

“No,” answered Luella. “But I am fleeing from someone. An unwanted and persistent admirer.”

“I would have thought that he would not be alone,” muttered the Viscount, entranced by the vision of loveliness in front of him.

“You must have many men at your feet.”

“This man has decided that he is going to marry me – he is obsessed!” she said looking down at her fingers. “We fled France when he became threatening and were to take refuge in Cornwall before returning to my aunt's house in Scotland. We both fell ill on the crossing and although I have recovered, she has not. I hope you will not think again about giving us refuge. You may not wish to harbour two fugitives!”

But the Viscount had already fallen under her spell.

It had been a very long time since he had felt so taken with a woman. His hardened heart had neither sought love nor missed it in his life, yet now he found himself swamped with myriad emotions.

Luella stared at him as she awaited his reply, but the Viscount found himself strangely hesitant. At last, he said,

“You have done nothing wrong. This man must have been very persistent to have followed you through Europe. Is it love that propels him so?”

“Not entirely. My aunt is a very rich and powerful woman with vast estates in Scotland. I am her only heir as the rest of the family have died. Frank Connolly, for that is the man's name, desires riches and power for himself. I am just another possession to be added into the bargain.”

A fierce protectiveness sprang up in the Viscount's bosom. He felt outraged that this fortune hunter had so relentlessly pursued the lovely young lady who sat trembling in the chair in front of him. And because of him, her aunt was now ill.

He listened as Luella recounted the tale of Frank Connolly's reign of terror.

“Aunt Edith thought that if we travelled West, instead of going straight to London, we would shake him off. I was certain that he will be in pursuit of us.”

“While you are under my roof, you must not fear for your safety,” the Viscount assured her with a tremor in his voice.

He rose from his chair and rang the bell. “Dinner will be at half-past eight and I hope you will do me the honour of joining me?”

“I would be delighted,” accepted Luella puzzled at his sudden change of mood.

As the Viscount left, Cork entered the room and informed Luella that the doctor was upstairs with the Countess. She stood up and followed him. Meanwhile the Viscount was in the library gazing out of the window deep in thought.

His mind whirled and he found he could not concentrate, such was the effect that his beautiful visitor had on him.

‘It is as if this house is casting a spell,' he told himself, as he looked out of the window at the wilderness of his garden.

The clock in the hall chimed six-thirty and the Viscount found himself wishing the hours away until dinner. He tried to sit down at his desk and do some more work, but his mind persisted in dwelling on the beautiful Luella Ridgeway.

‘It's this place that is unnerving me so,' he decided picking up his instruments. ‘And the ghost of Madame Le Fevre!'

*

The doctor was most adamant.

“She must rest for at least a week,” he said as he packed up his bag. “She must drink lots of fluids and eat light and nourishing meals.”

“But we cannot impose upon the Viscount's hospitality for that long,” replied Luella. “He has already been too kind.”

“Move her at your own peril,” counselled the doctor. “I cannot be held answerable if she resumes her travels earlier than I have stated.”

The Countess was propped up in bed and being tended to by Maisie, who was making a great deal of fuss of her ensuring that she had everything she needed.

“We'll soon have you better, my Lady,” she cooed. “But you must stay where you are.”

Luella approached the bed and sank down on the edge of it. Her aunt, although still ghastly white, did look a little more comfortable.

“How are you feeling, Aunt Edith?”

“I am so grateful to the Viscount for taking us in,” she whispered. “You must thank him for me.”

“I have already done so.”

“He is from London, is he not? Is he one of the Mayfair Kenningtons?”

“I have not asked, but it is obvious that he is not born locally.”

“We are highly fortunate to have landed on his doorstep,” added Aunt Edith. “Frank Connolly will never find us here!”

“I do hope not. I feel safe under the Viscount's roof – no matter how shabby it might be.”

Luella sat with her aunt until it was time for dinner.

*

Meanwhile downstairs in the dining room, the Viscount was nervously pacing the room awaiting the arrival of Luella.

Cork noticed that his new Master appeared jittery, but attributed it to the fact that he was anxious about entertaining visitors so soon after his arrival.

Of course, he was quite accustomed to serving strange faces as Madame Le Fevre had often taken in lost travellers. It was the position of the house, standing so prominently on the slopes above the River Torridge that attracted them to the door.

“Cork, would you see if Miss Ridgeway is coming?” asked the Viscount.

Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, Luella appeared in the doorway wearing a beautiful blue silk dress that had obviously come from Paris.

The Viscount caught his breath as he gazed at her coming towards him, a shy smile playing about her lips.

“You are looking most charming this evening,” declared the Viscount, as he took her hand and kissed it. Her soft skin smelled of lemon verbena that made him think of a fresh summer's day.

Luella smiled and blushed.

She did not feel in any way threatened by the Viscount for he was as different from Frank Connolly as was humanly possible. For a start, the Viscount was far nobler than Connolly, himself only the youngest son of a minor Irish Lord.

And Luella sensed at once that he subscribed to the highest moral values and would never seek to press his attentions on her.

“How is the Countess?” he asked, indicating to Cork to pour the wine.

“She is very comfortable, thanks to your wonderful maid.”

“Yes, Maisie is a good and loyal servant. I am most fortunate that all my staff are excellent.”

Cork brought the first course and they both ate in silence.

‘Why am I being so awkward around her?' thought the Viscount, as he finished his dish. ‘There is something about her that makes me behave like a stumbling fool.'

As the meal progressed, Luella seemed to relax and began to ask him questions.

“Do your family mind you being so far away from London?”

“I am not currently on speaking terms with my father,” admitted the Viscount. “And Mama died a few years ago. I do miss Grandmama, but as she now lives in my father's house, we have limited contact.”

“That is a pity,” replied Luella, her large blue eyes full of compassion. “From what you say, you are the only son, I assume?”

“Yes, I have no brothers or sisters.”

“I am in the same position and both my parents died in a terrible train crash in Scotland some years ago. I went to live with my uncle's wife, the Countess, and, when her husband died, she took to travelling around Europe, so I went with her.”

“Oh, I am sorry,” murmured the Viscount, as every inch of him longed to reach across the dining table and take her hand. “She is all you have in the world?”

“Yes, which is why I was so distraught when she collapsed in the carriage. I do not know what I should do if she were to – ”

Her voice trailed off and the Viscount found his heart surging out to her. She awakened so many unfamiliar emotions in him that his first instinct was to distance himself from her.

Yet, as she sat there before him, her soft hair curling around her face and her small but expressive hands fluttering, he was as one hypnotised.

*

Later in the darkness of his cavernous and chilly room, the Viscount swore he could still smell the scent of verbena clinging to the air.

Sleep did not come easily that night.

Although exhausted, he felt as if he was intoxicated – such was the effect Luella Ridgeway had exerted upon him.

When Hoskin awaked him the next morning, he grasped the proffered cup of tea and drained it eagerly before requesting another.

He was impatient to see Luella again. “Is Miss Ridgeway up yet?” he asked as innocently as he could.

“I believe that she is with her aunt at the moment, my Lord. Do you wish to see her?”

“No, I shall see her soon enough at breakfast.”

He had already decided to invite her to go out riding with him that morning. The day held the promise of being warm and fine.

As Hoskin finished dressing him, he practised in his head what he would say to her. His heart was racing as he entered the dining room and Luella was already seated.

“Good morning, I trust you slept well and that the room was to your liking?” he said with a slight bow.

“Very well, thank you. It was a relief to be in a proper bed again after our endless travels.”

“I intend to replace all the furniture once work on the house has been completed,” the Viscount told her. “I will keep some of the paintings, naturally, as they are both attractive and valuable, but the rest will be sold or given away.”

“You must show me your designs,” suggested Luella raising her cup to her rosy lips. “I should very much like to see them.”

Emboldened the Viscount seized his opportunity.

“Perhaps you would care to come for a ride around the estate this morning with me? I confess that I have scarcely had a chance to view it properly myself and would welcome the company. You do ride, I assume?”