This is Love

by Barbara Cartland

  She next went over to the dressing table and came back with the cream that she used on her face when her skin was dry from the winter winds.

  She always used it when she had been out hunting or when, like today, she had been covered with dust.

  She turned the small boy round a little so that she could sit behind him.

  “I will try not to hurt you,” she said, “but this cream of mine will soon start healing your skin. In the meantime it will prevent the weals from hurting you quite so much.”

  She applied it carefully as she was more horrified every moment as she realised how often the child had been beaten.

  Then, without telling him what she was doing, she went back to his room next door to fetch his nightshirt. She had noticed it lying at the end of the bed.

  She slipped it over his head.

  And then she told him,

  “You will be much more comfortable now and if you go to sleep you will feel much better in the morning.”

  As she spoke, she realised that the little boy was looking at her as if he was seeing her for the first time.

  “I want my Mum-ma,” he insisted, “but she has gone away and – will never come – back.”

  She could hardly hear what he said and the pain in his voice and in his eyes was unmistakable.

  “Your mother is dead?” Athina asked him.

  The boy nodded.

  He was looking at her like a small animal who did not understand what was happening to him.

  She knew that he was thinking that he did not want to leave her.

  “I will tell you what we will do,” she suggested. “If you take off your trousers, you can get into bed and tell me about your mother.”

  As if it was an order, he rose gingerly to his feet and slipped off his trousers beneath his nightshirt.

  Rather carefully because his back was obviously hurting him, he climbed into the bed.

  It was a large one and there was plenty of room for Athina to get in on the other side.

  She then put her head down on the pillow and, as if he knew that she expected him to do the same, he lay down facing her.

  “Now,” she said, “we can talk without being overheard. First you must tell me what your name is.”

  “It is Peter – Peter Naver.”

  “And who is the man who is being so unkind to you?”

  There was a little pause before Peter answered,

  “He is – my stepfather. Mum-ma married him – after Papa was – killed.”

  “And you live with him?” Athina enquired.

  “Yes – he is my – Guardian.”

  Athina knew only too well that Guardians had complete control over their Wards.

  At the same time it seemed strange to her that a stepfather should want to keep the child of his dead wife.

  “Have you no other relations?” she queried.

  “We have been to see ‒ my grandmother today,” Peter answered, “and she – asked me to – stay with her, but Step-Papa would – not let me.”

  “Why not?” Athina asked.

  Peter made a helpless gesture with his hands and she was aware that he had no answer to that question.

  “What was your mother’s name before she married your Papa?” she then tried.

  Peter could answer this.

  “She was – Lady Louise Rock and – I miss her so much. I wish I – could die and be – with her.”

  He was crying again and instinctively Athina reached out to draw him nearer to her.

  He put his head against her shoulder.

  “I want my Mum-ma,” he repeated. “I want – to be – with her.”

  “I know you do,” Athina said, “but she is near you even though you cannot see her and she is naturally very upset to think that you are so unhappy.”

  Peter stopped crying.

  “She is near me? Really – near to me?” he then asked. “Like the – angels?”

  “Yes, just like that,” Athina smiled, “and I expect your mother once told you that you had a Guardian Angel watching over you and now she is looking after you too.”

  “Are you – sure? Quite – sure?” Peter wanted to know.

  “Of course I am,” Athina replied.

  “Then why does – she let – Step-Papa be so – cruel to me? He – beats me and beats me – nothing I – do is right.”

  “It is something we must prevent happening ever again,” Athina asserted.

  She thought that Peter was thinking over what she had said and went on,

  “I do want to help you, Peter, and I think it was your mother who brought me here tonight so that I could learn exactly how cruelly your stepfather is treating you and take you away from him.”

  As she spoke, it was as if someone else was putting the words into her mouth and it struck her that, although it was a strange thing to say, she had to say it.

  “So you really will – take me – away from – Step-Papa?” Peter asked eagerly.

  “I will certainly do my best,” Athina answered, “but you will have to tell me a little more about your mother. You say her name was Lady Louise Rock?”

  “Yes – that is – right,” Peter confirmed. “She lived in a big house, which was – also called ‘Rock’ and I always thought it was a – funny name for a – house.”

  Athina gave an exclamation.

  “Are you telling me,” she next asked, “that your mother was the daughter of the Marquis of Rockingdale?”

  Peter nodded.

  “She used to – tell me about – my grandfather who was a – very important man. His house, which is called ‘Rock Park’, is very – very big.”

  Athina found this hard to believe.

  She knew Rock Park, of course, she did. It was very near where she herself lived.

  She had never been to the house although her parents had been invited to parties there over the years.

  The Marquis of Rockingdale had died two or three years ago and her father had said that he had no use for the son who had succeeded to the title of Marquis.

  “He spends all his time in London,” he said to Athina, “with a lot of beautiful women instead of attending to his estate. I have no time for those young toffs who think they are the ‘Smart Set’.”

  Athina had, however, hoped that, when she too was grown up, she would be invited to visit Rock Park.

  She wanted to see the inside of the house. Her father and mother had described it to her in detail and it was actually one of the sights of the County.

  The estate was extremely large and at one point bordered with her father’s. She had hunted over some of it a few years ago, but that was only by accident as she had become lost.

  The last Marquis, because he had grown so old, did not ride to hounds.

  The present one preferred to hunt in Leicestershire, where he had a smart Hunting Lodge.

  Nevertheless what was important at the moment was that he was the uncle of this wretched defenceless little boy and he would have to do something about the way he was being treated.

  “When did your mother leave you?” she asked him gently.

  “A long time ago,” Peter replied, “when I was just six and now I am nearly – ten.”

  ‘Almost four years of this appalling devil torturing the poor boy,’ Athina thought to herself.

  It seemed very strange that none of the family knew about what was happening.

  Peter was still cuddling against her and she quizzed him,

  “Why then did you not tell your grandmama when she asked you to stay with her that you were unhappy with your stepfather?”

  “I wanted to,” Peter said, “but Step-Papa was in the room and he – gripped my arm and – said, ‘Peter wants to stay with me, do you not, Peter?’”

  Peter drew in his breath.

  “I could – not say ‘no’ as he was – pinching my arm – pinching it so – hard that it – hurt me.”

  Athina thought that the more she heard about Peter’s stepfather, the m
ore she loathed him.

  Now she asked Peter somewhat belatedly,

  “You have not told me your stepfather’s name.”

  “He is – Lord B-Burnham of A-Avon,” Peter said, faltering a little over the words. “He is very – important in the House of Lords and – everybody is – frightened of him.”

  There was silence for a moment.

  And then he went on as if he was talking to himself,

  “I am – frightened and his – horses are – frightened. Ladybird is – unhappy tonight, I know – she is – unhappy.”

  “Which is why you went off to see her,” Athina suggested softly. “That was very brave and kind of you.”

  “I love Ladybird and I love – all Step-Papa’s – horses and when he – whips them I – know what – they are feeling.”

  He made a little movement as he spoke as if his back was really hurting him.

  Athina knew now that she had heard quite enough and she was absolutely determined that Lord Burnham would no longer be able to terrorise and torture his stepson.

  Very gently she turned and put Peter’s head down on the pillow beside her.

  “Now you go to sleep, Peter. In the morning we are going to do something very exciting and I don’t want you to be tired.”

  “I am tired now,” Peter said. “It was a – long drive. We went a – very long – way and the – dust made my throat – dry, but – Step-Papa would – not let me – have any – water.”

  Athina felt that, if she heard any more about Lord Burnham, she would murder him with her own hands.

  She knew instinctively that she would have to be clever if she was to save poor little Peter from his ghastly stepfather.

  She kissed his cheek and he put his arms round her neck.

  “You are like Mum-ma,” he whispered, “just like my Mum-ma.”

  “Then go to sleep and dream about her,” Athina answered, “and remember that she is here beside you looking after you and she has told me to help you escape.”

  “From – Step-Papa?”

  “From your Step-Papa,” Athina confirmed to him.

  It was a vow rather than a promise.

  After all the small boy had been through, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep almost immediately.

  Athina leant over him and blew out the candle and then she lay planning what she should do.

  She realised that it would be difficult to spirit Peter away from the inn without having a scene with Lord Burnham.

  She therefore willed herself to wake up at five o’clock when she knew that the maids would be stirring.

  Her father had been in the Army and he had taught her how to wake up, as he could, at whatever hour she pleased.

  “It is just a question of willpower,” he had told her, “and telling your subconscious to carry out your wishes so that there is no need for a reveille or alarms of any sort.”

  Athina at the age of twelve had found this a tough challenge and soon she could wake, as her father could, at any time she desired.

  But now she forced herself to relax.

  She was already planning in her mind how she would take Peter away from the inn without Lord Burnham being aware of it.

  She also said a very special prayer not only to God but to Lady Louise as well that she would be successful with her plan.

  ‘I have to save your little son from that brute,’ she said to her in her prayer, “’but you will have to help me. It may not be easy, but I am quite sure when your brother knows what is happening he will take correct action.’

  She only hoped that she was right.

  As if Lady Louise had answered her prayer, she then fell asleep.

  Neither she nor Peter moved an inch until it was five o’clock in the morning.

  *

  Athina awoke and for a moment she could not remember where she was.

  Then she could see the small fair head on the pillow next to hers and recalled what had happened last night.

  She climbed out of bed very quietly so as not to disturb Peter and opened the door onto the corridor.

  As she had expected, she could hear movements down below the stairs. The maids were already at work cleaning the entrance hall and the dining room.

  She waited until one of them passed by at the bottom of the stairs and then, raising her voice, she called out,

  “Good morning.”

  The maid looked up and saw her.

  “I am Mrs. Beckwith,” Athina said. “Would you be so kind as to tell my groom that I wish to have my chaise round at the front door in half an hour?”

  “I’ll tell ’im, ma’am,” the maid replied, bobbing a little curtsey.

  Athina went back into her room and started to dress and she then packed her trunk.

  Going into Peter’s room, she collected his coat, which was still on the floor. She saw too that he had a leather bag in which all his other things were packed.

  She guessed that Lord Burnham would have brought a valet with him, who also attended to Peter.

  She knew that this could be dangerous as the man would certainly be up earlier than his Master.

  She went back into her own room and locked the communicating door between their two rooms.

  Then she woke up Peter, who sat up rubbing his eyes.

  “I was – dreaming,” he said, “dreaming that Mum-ma was back – with me.”

  Athina kissed him and said,

  “She was with you. Now listen to me, Peter, if we are to escape, you will have to dress quickly and then I will tell you what to do.”

  “Can I really go – away with – you?” Peter asked hesitantly.

  “That is what you are going to do,” Athina answered, “but hurry!”

  He jumped out of bed at once and started to put on his clothes.

  He did it so quickly that Athina recognised that he was well used to dressing himself. And all that she had to do was to tie the laces of his shoes.

  By this time it was after half past five.

  She knew that if Gauntlet had received her message, he would be already in the courtyard.

  The vital issue was that Peter should go through the hall and into the yard without being questioned.

  “Now listen to me, Peter, I want you to go downstairs just as you did last night when you went out to see Ladybird.”

  “Am I to – see her – now?”

  “No, you must not,” Athina said, “as your stepfather’s groom or his valet might see you.”

  Peter seemed to understand and she went on,

  “Go out through the side door into the yard and, when you get there, hurry as quickly as you can towards the gate.”

  “The gate we – came in by?”

  “Yes, that is the one I mean. Then turn right – do you know which is right?”

  Peter held out his right hand to prove that he did.

  “Good. Then go right and walk along the road but don’t run. Just walk and I will join you in the chaise as quickly as I can.”

  “Then I – will get – in the chaise with – you?” Peter asked rather pathetically.

  “That is the idea,” Athina answered. “Don’t talk to anybody. Just do exactly as I have told you. It is absolutely imperative that nobody should notice you.”

  “No one – noticed me – last night,” Peter pointed out.

  “But then it was dark,” Athina reminded him, “and, although it is very early in the morning, people may be moving about.”

  Peter nodded his head as if he fully understood what Athina was saying to him.

  She smiled at him.

  “Off you go then and just walk casually along the road.”

  She let him out through the door and she waited until she felt that he would by now be outside the inn before she went downstairs.

  A porter in his shirtsleeves was clearing away empty beer mugs.

  “Would you please be so kind as to bring down the two pieces of luggage that are upstairs in my bedroom?” Athina asked him.

/>   He looked up in surprise because she was about so early.

  At the same time, because she spoke with a tone of authority, he replied, ‘yes, ma’am,’ and then ran up the stairs immediately.

  Athina went to the reception desk and was glad to see that there was no sign of the proprietor.

  There was, however, a porter who appeared to be in charge.

  She asked him what she owed and paid the bill, leaving a good tip for the staff.

  He thanked her and she then hurried through the door and into the yard.

  With some sense of relief she saw Gauntlet waiting for her with the horses between the shafts.

  “Good morning, Gauntlet,” she said. “I was afraid you might not have received my message.”

  “’Mornin’, ma’am. I were a bit surprised at your ladyship wantin’ to leave so early,” Gauntlet replied.

  Athina did not answer.

  She was busy getting into the riding seat and picking up the reins.

  As she did so, the porter who had gone to fetch her luggage came out of the inn.

  He was carrying her small trunk and Peter’s leather bag.

  Quickly, before Gauntlet could question the strange leather bag, she said to him,

  “That is my bag too. Put them both in please.”

  Gauntlet did as he was told at once and Athina handed him a half-sovereign to give to the porter.

  It was a large tip, but she hoped that, if there was any commotion over the disappearance of Peter, he would not want to involve her.

  As soon as Gauntlet was beside her, she drove off.

  She turned the horses to the right as they left the entrance to the courtyard.

  As she did so, she looked down the road, but could see no sign of Peter.

  For a moment she felt her heart stop.

  What could have happened to him?

  Had he been apprehended by his Lordship’s valet?

  Or had he misunderstood her simple instructions?

  Then, as the horses moved further on, she saw him coming out of a hedgerow where he must have been hiding.

  She gave a sigh of relief.

  It told her more forcefully than any words could how much the small boy already meant to her.

  She had known last night that she would do anything – anything to save him from the bestial cruelty of Lord Burnham.

  Although it seemed to her just too incredible, she was quite sure that she was being directed.