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Authors: Barbara Cartland

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BOOK: The Importance of Love
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‘Yes, I am just being foolish,' murmured Luella.

Maisie brought her hat and white cotton gloves. As the day was warm and fine, she had not thought it necessary to bring her a coat.

Luella sought out the oak mirror that hung at the far end of the hall and used it to arrange her hat to best effect.

“You will need more than hatpins to keep your hat on,” teased the Viscount, as he watched her every move entranced. “I have seen other ladies secure theirs with a scarf. Do you have one?”

Luella thought for a moment and then dispatched Maisie back upstairs to retrieve a suitable item from the chest of drawers.

While she waited, she peeped out of the front door to where Bennett stood, looking very smart in his chauffeur's uniform, next to the Daimler.

“Will he drive very fast?” she asked.

“That is up to you,” laughed the Viscount. “Bennett used to drive for an old Duke, who used to entreat him to go faster all the time. You will be in a safe pair of hands. Bennett is very experienced considering that this is a new-fangled invention.”

Five minutes later, Luella was flushed with excitement as she sat in the passenger seat alongside Bennett. Just as they were leaving, he tooted the horn for good measure and made her jump.

The Viscount felt inexplicably miserable as he watched the motor car disappear down the winding track to the main road.

He wished he could have accompanied her into the town.

How it would have delighted him to parade the streets of Bideford with Luella on his arm.

*

Luella found Bideford to be a charming town.

But she quickly discovered that she would have to go to Barnstaple if she wished to place an advertisement in the local paper. However, Bennett said he would be delighted to take her.

She bought flowers in Barnstaple for her aunt before proceeding to the offices of the
North Devon Journal
where she placed her advertisement.

“There!” she announced triumphantly. “It is all done and I have requested interested candidates to present themselves at Torr House on Friday.”

“We should be heading for home now, Miss Ridgeway,” Bennett suggested. “I believe I glimpsed a garage on our way into town and I must fill up the petrol tank.”

By the time that they arrived back at Torr House, the Viscount was almost beside himself with worry.

When Luella did not appear for luncheon, he began to fret even though he knew it was impossible for Frank Connolly to be lurking in Bideford waiting to capture her.

When the Daimler eventually pulled up outside Torr House, the Viscount had to force himself not to run outside in a mixture of panic and relief.

“Where on earth have you been?” he asked, as Luella, her face full of pleasure, was helped from the motor car by Bennett.

“I am so sorry, Lord Kennington,” she said breezily, “but we had to drive to Barnstaple to place the advertisement. I have had such a wonderful afternoon. The countryside here is magnificent – even to the point of rivalling that of my homeland.”

“That is praise, indeed, but come, you must be famished. Shall I have Cork bring you something to eat?”

“I am fine, thank you. I found a hotel in Barnstaple with a nice restaurant. Bennett was thrilled because he met another chauffeur and they had a jolly time discussing the combustion engine.”

The Viscount laughed.

He loved the way that Luella found even the slightest thing amusing and that she never seemed to be depressed, even though she was so far from home.

“But now I should like to go and see Aunt Edith and take her these flowers I have bought for her. Cork, I assume the doctor has been to see her?”

“He has, Miss Ridgeway.”

She ran swiftly up the stairs and along the landing to the blue room and was thrilled to see her out of bed and sitting in an armchair near the window.

“Aunt Edith. You are up,” she cried rushing over to kiss her.

“Yes, I was feeling a little better. I must say, the local doctor here is as fine as anyone would find in Harley Street. He has worked miracles. He says I should be fit to travel by early next week. We can be on our way.”

The Countess thought she glimpsed something like disappointment flash over Luella's lovely face before she recovered herself.

“So, that would explain why you are in such good spirits,” she exclaimed, turning away so her aunt could not see her expression.

“As for myself, I have been so busy I have not had time to worry about Frank Connolly. Is that not wonderful?”

The Countess smiled and took her niece's hand, turning her back to face her.

“I have not seen you so animated for a very long time. The Devon air must suit you. Or perhaps it is a certain Viscount who has put a spring in your step?”

Luella coloured and withdrew her hand. She lowered her blue eyes and passed a hand across her burning cheeks.

“Oh, Aunt,” she chided. “Your illness appears to have affected your sensibilities. You know that I could not possibly entertain the idea of romance and you know the reasons why.”

“Really, child. I do not think that he is the kind of gentleman who would take issue with what is now well and truly in the past.”

“He is a pleasant-enough fellow,” interrupted Luella a little too swiftly. “And I like him well enough, but I can see that you are much better and at the mercy of fanciful notions. I shall have to ask Maisie to find you something to occupy yourself with.”

“Stuff and nonsense! But Luella, if a chance for happiness presents itself, you should not dismiss it out of hand. Love is the most important thing in life.”

“And I have plenty of it around me as long as I have you,” replied Luella. “Any other love does not interest me in the least, and that is the way I intend it to be.”

“He is very handsome, though – ” interjected the Countess, then paused seeing Luella's cross expression.

‘
Methinks the maiden doth protest too much
,' she sighed to herself, as her niece busied herself in the room, unnecessarily tidying what Maisie had already attended to earlier that morning.

*

The Countess did not wish to go down for dinner that evening, much to Luella's disappointment. After seeing her so sprightly that afternoon, she had hoped that she would join her and the Viscount in the dining room.

What her aunt had said to her was still playing on her mind as Maisie helped her to dress.

She entered the dining room to find the Viscount poring over a large sheet of paper on which there appeared to be some drawings.

“You have finished your plans for the house?” she asked as Cork pulled out a chair for her.

“Almost. I hope you do not mind, but I wish to solicit your opinion before I proceed. I was so impressed with your ideas for the gardens and it is obvious that you have a talent for design.”

“Oh, but I am not an expert when it comes to architecture,” she said shyly. “Plants and trees are my particular forte.”

“Even so, I would be grateful if you would cast an eye over the plans.”

He rose and moved towards Luella. As he approached her, the familiar scent of verbena wafted up, intoxicating him. He spread the paper in front of her and leaned over.

He could see the way loose hairs sprang up from her hairline, forming a corona about her head. Her skin was as white as a snowdrop and appeared velvety smooth.

As he explained his designs to her, he could hear her breathing and sense the rise and fall of her chest, which inordinately stirred him.

Coughing he moved away lest she sense his growing passion for her.

‘I must not frighten her,' he told himself. ‘She is nervous of men, that much is apparent and if I wish to set my cap at her, I should move cautiously.'

At Cork's insistence, he rolled up the paper and allowed him to serve dinner.

“They are, of course, far from complete,” he admitted as he tucked the plans away under the table. “But it will have given you an idea of what I wish to achieve.”

“It will be a wonderful building,” she enthused, looking him straight in the eye. “I should not wonder if you will become famous because of it.”

“That is what my grandfather would have wished,” he said, feeling a pang of sadness. “He deeply desired that I should make a name for myself in the world of architecture.”

“And, no doubt, you will.”

There was a moment when they simply looked at each other. No words were spoken and the Viscount felt his heart contract.

‘She feels it too,' he said to himself, as Luella blushed and looked down.

After dinner he asked if she would care to listen to music in the drawing room.

“I have brought my gramophone from London. And some recordings of my favourite classical pieces. Beethoven, Brahms, Chopin.”

“I should like that very much,” said Luella rising from her chair. “I admit I play the piano rather poorly, but I love music.”

The Viscount offered her his arm and after a second's hesitancy, she took it.

Her bare arm felt warm against his jacket and the Viscount found himself wishing he could touch her soft skin. Cork brought in coffee and wound up the machine before placing a shellac disc on the turntable.

He brought the heavy arm across the gramophone and carefully set it down so that the needle touched the disc. After a good deal of hissing and a click, the sounds of a romantic piece by Chopin echoed around the room.

Luella soon found herself transported by the music.

“Oh, I did not want it to end,” she sighed, as the needle hit the run-out groove of the disc and stuck there noisily.

“There is more,” said the Viscount selecting a waltz by Strauss.

As soon as the music began, Luella could not keep her feet still. She traced the steps of the waltz where she sat and gazed into the distance, wishing that she was on a dance floor.

“You like to dance?” asked the Viscount seeing her feet moving.

“I adore to dance. There was not much opportunity to dance in Paris – ”

Her voice trailed off and a far-away look came into her eyes. Seeing her recalling a distant memory, the Viscount leapt up.

“Then, dance with me now.”

Luella regarded his handsome athletic figure and, judging that he would be fine partner, rose from her chair.

“Very well,” she agreed in a low voice.

She cast her eyes downwards as he took her in his arms. The music was still playing as they began to slowly waltz around the drawing room.

All too soon the record coming to an end shattered the Viscount's reverie. He ran over to the gramophone, quickly wound it up and replaced the needle.

He took her once more into his arms and whisked her around the carpet. She was laughing and gay and the colour in her cheeks made her more beautiful than ever.

The Viscount's head whirled as they moved together and this time, as the music stopped, their faces were just inches apart.

Without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed her soft mouth – just for a second. It was a gentle kiss, like rain falling upon a petal.

His heart soared up to Heaven as for a second Luella returned the kiss, but then pulled away.


David
,” she breathed her voice hoarse with bewilderment.

“Oh, I am sorry. I was so lost in the moment that I forgot myself. Luella, you are so very beautiful and you must know how I – ”

“Hush,” she said putting her fingers across his strong mouth. “It is not that I find you repellent, it is just that I don't only have myself and my feelings to take into consideration. There is Aunt Edith.”

“Yes, of course. I apologise.” “It is not that I don't like you, David, but I am not as quick to make up my mind as you are. We should proceed very carefully.”

“Naturally. Whatever you wish,” he responded withdrawing from her.

“I hope you understand. I must take care of Aunt Edith as I am all she has.”

“Yes, yes, you are right.” The Viscount moved towards the gramophone and took off the disc.

“I am actually rather tired all of a sudden,” he said. “Would you excuse me? I think I shall retire for the evening.” It was now Luella's turn to feel a little wrong-footed, but she was so torn with conflicting emotions that she simply nodded.

“Goodnight, Luella, and thank you for a very special evening.”

He bowed and left the room leaving Luella alone and confused.

‘Damn my stupid impulsiveness,' he hissed to himself, as he mounted the stairs two at a time. ‘I have probably frightened her away now – and that is the last thing I would wish to happen.'

*

All too soon Friday dawned and the Viscount realised that Luella would soon be leaving Torr House. He was surprised to see a queue of men outside the house by ten o'clock, all waiting to be interviewed for the post of gardener.

‘She is a marvel,' he thought, as Cork led the parade of candidates to the kitchen, where Luella was ready and waiting for them.

Two hours later, Luella emerged from below stairs looking delighted.

“Two highly experienced gardeners will start at once,” she announced, throwing herself down onto a Chippendale chair in the library. “Cork is showing them the grounds and then will fetch me to instruct them where to begin.”

“Excellent,” acknowledged the Viscount, looking up from his drawing board. He had barely sketched two lines since breakfast, instead preferring to go over and over in his mind the events of the previous evening.

“They will live out until the house is finished,” continued Luella. “How are your plans for the house coming along?”

The Viscount sighed and put down his pencil.

“Slowly. It is a difficult task and I have encountered a problem with where to site the orangery I had planned.”

“Does it have to be attached to the house?”

“Well, no – ”

“Then, what about the wall at the side of the lower terrace? The one nearest the kitchen? Could not a structure be erected there?”

BOOK: The Importance of Love
6.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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