The Lioness and the Lily

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The Lioness and the Lily Page 9

by Barbara Cartland


  “I don’t want to tire you with too much all at once. You know what Dr. Jenkins said about how careful you were to be not to over-excite yourself and I think perhaps we should do the improvements very very slowly.”

  “If you feel that would be wise.”

  “Yes, indeed,” she said quickly.

  “We will talk about it, but I promise I will not overtire myself. But first of all, before I worry about anything else, I must worry about you.”

  “Why me?” Purilla enquired.

  “Because I am aware I am a very disappointing bridegroom,” the Earl answered, “and I realise that you may feel defrauded first for not having had a large Wedding, which every woman wants, and secondly that your bridegroom is somewhat ignominiously incapacitated.”

  Purilla laughed.

  “I thought that our Wedding was very beautiful and I had no wish to have anyone else there except for Nanny and Jason.”

  “And, of course, Mercury at the porch.”

  “I think he understood that something very special was happening,” Purilla said, “and he is very impressed with his stable here and the smart horses he now has to talk to.”

  Now she was being a child again and the Earl felt that it was intriguing and rather fascinating how she could switch from being an earnest Reformer concerned with the troubles and conditions of the labourers to speaking of her own life as if she was living in a Fairytale.

  She had apparently finished what she had to say and the Earl said quietly,

  “You have mentioned Nanny and Jason, but you have not said that there was someone else in the Church who you particularly wanted to be there.”

  It took a few seconds before Purilla understood.

  Then she almost whispered,

  “I had not – forgotten – you.”

  “I thought perhaps you had.”

  “No, of course not, but I that knew you were not feeling well and when you looked so ill when we reached here I was afraid, terribly afraid, that getting married was too much for you and I should have made you wait for at least a week.”

  This was the opening the Earl had been waiting for and he searched amongst his papers until he found a copy of the announcement that Mr. Anstruther had sent to a London newspaper.

  The Earl had worded it with great care as if it was an announcement written by the editor rather than by himself.

  He looked at it now before he handed it to Purilla saying,

  “I want you to read this.”

  She took it from him and he thought that her eyes were a little apprehensive as she did so as if she somehow sensed that there was a note of mystery in his voice,

  She then read,

  “We have only just learnt of the marriage of the Earl of Rockbrook and Purilla, daughter of the late Colonel Edward Cranford and of the late Mrs. Cranford of The Manor House, Little Stanton, Buckinghamshire.

  The Ceremony took place some time ago very quietly owing to family mourning.

  The announcement was further delayed owing to injuries incurred by the Earl when out riding and he is still not fully restored to health.

  The Earl and Countess of Rockbrook are now in residence at Rock House in Buckinghamshire and we offer them our most sincere congratulations and good wishes for their future happiness.”

  As Purilla read the announcement there was a little frown between her eyes before she said,

  “But we were not married ‘some time ago’.”

  “I know,” the Earl replied, “but I have special reasons for wishing the marriage to appear to have taken place sooner than it did.”

  There was silence.

  Then Purilla commented,

  “You mean – you do not wish to tell me why we are having to – lie about it?”

  “‘Lie’ is a harsh word,” the Earl responded quickly. “I prefer to think of it as an inaccuracy of no particular interest to anyone except ourselves.”

  “It seems strange and perhaps it might be – unlucky.”

  “As I have said, it cannot affect anyone but us,” the Earl said, “and I have only told you this in case we are questioned.”

  “Who is likely to do that?”

  “No one I can think of.”

  “They will know in Little Stanton that it is not true.”

  “The only person in Little Stanton who knows we have been married is the Vicar,” the Earl said.

  Purilla did not contradict him, but she was certain that somehow, almost as if the information was blown on the wind that everybody would have been aware that when she went to Rock Castle it was as the Earl’s wife.

  She felt that, if the Earl wished to believe that the Ceremony in the Church had been an absolute secret, there was no reason for her to disillusion him.

  At the same time she was curious, of course she was curious, as to why he wanted to pretend that it had happened ‘some time ago’.

  Aloud she then said,

  “Elizabeth knows when I was married.”

  “You have heard from her?” the Earl enquired.

  “Yes. A letter came this morning. She is excited and, of course, delighted that I am a bride as she will be in two weeks’ time.”

  She paused before she added,

  “I think she would be disappointed if you were not well enough to go to her Wedding.”

  “I shall most certainly be well enough,” he replied. “Actually I feel well enough already to ride or do anything else I want to do.”

  “No, no!” Purilla insisted quickly. “You promised Dr. Jenkins that you would not do anything for a week except walk about and sit in the sun. You cannot go back on your promise.”

  “Jenkins is an old woman,” the Earl declared, “and you and Nanny are mollycoddling me to the point where I shall get so fat and lazy that I shall never be able to do anything strenuous again.”

  “I think that is most unlikely,” Purilla smiled, “but you must still keep your promise. I could not bear you to be ill.”

  The Earl was remembering that Dr. Jenkins had been very insistent.

  “What you have had is a warning, my Lord,” he had said, “and you must therefore heed it and take things really easy for at least a week. That means no riding, no bumping about in a carriage and no love-making.”

  He misunderstood the frown between the Earl’s eyes, who was resenting anyone interfering in his private affairs.

  “It may seem hard on you, but you have had a very quick marriage and it would be a mistake, since you are not fit, to start off on the wrong foot, so to speak. Give yourself time and, if you take my advice you will, having dispensed with an engagement, do your wooing at your leisure.”

  The Earl did not reply and as if he felt that he had perhaps gone too far in what he had said, Dr. Jenkins hastily made his farewells.

  The Earl was well aware that what he had advised was sheer common sense and, although he hated to admit it, he knew that in arranging his marriage to take place so hastily to suit his own ends, he had not considered his bride’s feelings as a woman.

  The more he saw of Purilla the more he realised that she did not fit into the image that he had planned of a quiet, complacent grateful wife with simple country tastes and with a somewhat limited intelligence.

  He knew now that she was curious and puzzled by his deception over the date of the Wedding.

  It was, however, impossible for him to tell her the truth and he would just have to think of some reasonable explanation.

  She was still staring down at the paper in her hands and after a moment she said,

  “If people ask me – when we were married you will – expect me to – lie.”

  “People will not ask us the date,” the Earl replied, “they are much more likely to enquire where and then, of course, you can tell the truth. One reason, which I am sure you will understand, is that most people in the Social world will think it strange that we did not invite my many relatives or ask you to meet them before we were actually married.”

  “I forgot
that you would have a lot of relatives while I have none,” Purilla said.

  “I regret to tell you that they are innumerable,” the Earl answered, “and doubtless you will meet them all in good time. But, as they did not pay much attention to me these past years, I really have no wish to entertain them so quickly after my uncle’s death.”

  “But will they not think it very strange that you were married without even telling them?”

  “They knew that I had no expectation of inheriting,” the Earl replied, “and so they will therefore suppose I had no wish to wait for a long time to be married simply because I was in mourning. It would obviously be easier for me to be married very quietly and you would meet the family later.”

  He congratulated himself that this sounded plausible and he thought that Purilla accepted it. Then she said,

  “I will, of course, do – anything to – help you and I am glad we can be – alone until you feel – better.”

  It was what the Earl wanted to hear her say and he put out his hand towards her.

  “You are very understanding, Purilla, and I am so grateful. Let us hope people do leave us alone so that we can get to know each other.”

  “I feel I know you already and have done so for years and years – perhaps centuries in other lives.”

  The Earl looked surprised and then she explained,

  “When I first saw you, I somehow felt that I had seen you somewhere. It was Richard who told me how people in India believe in the wheel of rebirth and I have often thought about it and wondered if I should ever meet anyone who had been with me in another life.”

  “So you think we have known each other before.”

  “I am very sure of it.”

  “Then it is something I must believe as well,” he said. “I cannot have you isolated even in your thoughts.”

  He saw that this pleased her and he felt her fingers move in his.

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it and, now for the first time since he had known her, he felt a tremor run through her at his touch and he knew that he excited her.

  “You are a very lovely and sweet person, Purilla,” he said, “and may I say that, even if we have been acquainted for a million years, there is still a great deal more I want to know about you.”

  He saw that her blue eyes seemed to fill her whole face.

  Then she said,

  “I am so lucky – so very lucky to have – found you. I know now that what I have been seeking has been you – but I was not really sure of it until you asked me to – marry you.”

  The Earl told himself that he should reciprocate by telling her that likewise he had been seeking her, but he had an uncomfortable feeling that unless it was true, which it was not, Purilla would sense that he was only paying her lip service.

  Aloud he next said,

  “You must tell me about this belief of yours. Of course when I was in India I knew it was part of the Buddhist and Hindu religions, but I never had time to study it. I was too busy training the troops and fighting rebellious tribesmen.”

  “Richard said that India was very beautiful.”

  “Very beautiful,” the Earl agreed. “At the same time I think nothing could be lovelier than our surroundings here at this moment.”

  Purilla released his hand and rose as he had done to walk to the door of the Orangery and look out into the garden.

  As she moved, the Earl thought how her new gown accentuated the soft curves of her body and how gracefully she walked.

  With the sunshine on her fair hair he told himself as he looked at her that it would be difficult to find anyone lovelier or with the sensitive delicacy of a portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds.

  ‘I am lucky,’ he thought to himself, ‘luckier than I can possibly express.’

  It suddenly struck him that it might well have been Louise standing there instead of Purilla and he shuddered at the thought.

  He had a sudden feeling that Purilla was just like an angel guarding and protecting him from the dangers that had encroached on him far too near for comfort.

  Then he knew that she did in fact exemplify the lily that he had first identified her with, a lily that looked at him with blue eyes filled with a love that was not physical but spiritual.

  And Louise was still very definitely the marauding lioness about to leap at his throat.

  The Earl suddenly reached out his hands.

  “Come here, Purilla,” he urged her.

  She turned at his command and came towards him.

  He took both her hands in his.

  “Listen to me,” he said. “I want to tell you how beautiful you are and how much I admire the way you are behaving in what I know are very difficult circumstances.”

  Her fingers tightened on his and her eyes looked at him in a puzzled fashion.

  “This is not the sort of marriage I am sure you imagined in your dreams,” he went on, “but I want you to know how proud I am of you and how much I enjoy having you here with me at Rock Castle.”

  It was what he thought he ought to say. At the same time the words were genuinely sincere and he knew that they meant a great deal to Purilla.

  Yet her eyes were looking into his and he felt that she was searching deep down inside him, looking for something and searching for the Golden Fleece that was an indivisible part of the marriage she wanted.

  After a moment he raised one of her hands to his lips and then the other.

  Her skin was very soft and he thought as his mouth lingered for a moment that if he kissed her lips they would also be soft, sweet and innocent.

  Then he told himself that it was too soon and the doctor was right, he should wait and not rush things.

  He raised his head to look up at Purilla and saw that there was a flush on her cheeks and her lips were parted as if she found it difficult to breathe.

  He knew that his kissing her hand had aroused feelings that she had never known before and once again the Earl wanted to kiss her lips and hold her against him.

  Then she had released her hands from his and, in a shy little voice which was different from the usual way she spoke, she said,

  “I-I must go and – find Jason. It is – time I took him for a walk.”

  She went from the Orangery and the Earl sat back in his chair thinking about her.

  For the first three days after they were married the Earl had been made by Nanny and Bates to go to bed early and, although Purilla had a tray in his bedroom, it was not the same as tonight when he was coming downstairs and they were to dine in the small dining room.

  Because she was excited at the prospect she had asked the gardeners, to whom she had already introduced herself, if they would decorate the table.

  “The flowers are very lovely,” she had said flatteringly to the Head Gardener, who had been at Rock Castle for over thirty-five years, “that I cannot bear to think they must ever die.”

  “If they lasted too long, my Lady, you’d soon ’ave nowheres to put the fresh ’uns,” the old man said with a chuckle.

  “That is true,” Purilla agreed, “but every day I think the arrangements are prettier than the day before, so please make the table very special for his Lordship. I know he will appreciate it.”

  The gardener replied that this presented no difficulties for him and Purilla was then faced with the problem of what to wear.

  Almost every day new gowns arrived from London besides bonnets, shawls, pelisses, shoes, gloves and the most alluring lace-trimmed underwear that she had ever imagined.

  The dressmaker who had called after her arrival had seemed to understand without being told exactly what was required for the trousseau. But Purilla was nevertheless overwhelmed at the amount of things that were sent her, although Nanny and the Earl seemed to take it all as a matter of course.

  “It must all have cost an awful lot of money,” she had said in a frightened tone to Nanny that very morning when still more boxes were arriving.

  “His Lordship can afford it,” Nanny
replied, “and you knows as well as I do, Miss Purilla, you can hardly go about here in those rags and tags which was all you had to wear at home.”

  “I was quite happy in them,” Purilla replied defensively.

  “There’s gratitude for you,” Nanny said sharply, “with his Lordship payin’ a fortune to deck you out as a Lady of Fashion.”

  “I do not wish to be a Lady of Fashion,” Purilla answered. “I just want him to think that I look attractive.”

  “He has eyes in his head, I suppose,” Nanny said abruptly.

  She did not say anything more, but Purilla was aware that she thought her marriage was not only unusual but somehow embarrassing.

  She knew the old woman well enough to realise that first of all Nanny did not like the haste in which she had been made the Earl’s wife and secondly the fact that he had not been able to behave as a bridegroom had not escaped her attention.

  As he was her patient, she knew that it was right and prudent for him to sleep in his own room and treat Purilla almost as if she was his sister rather than his wife.

  But another side of her resented the fact that Purilla was not swept off her feet by an ardent suitor who loved her as she should be loved.

  “He will love me – eventually,” Purilla said to Jason before she went to sleep.

  He had his basket but, when Nanny was out of the way, he would often jump up on the bed and creep close to Purilla.

  “He is so majestic and so impressive,” she went on, “and there must be so many women who have loved him and perhaps he has loved them – but then I have nothing to offer him – except for my heart.”

  There was a wistful note in her voice that made Jason snuggle a little closer to her.

  She put her arms around him, feeling that the warmth and softness of his body was somehow comforting.

  ‘I think the Earl trusts me,’ she reasoned, ‘and I think perhaps I can help him with the people on the estate. He understood what I was trying to tell him about them, but I want him to feel I matter to him more than anything else in the world, more than his title or his money – ’

  She gave a deep sigh.

  ‘Perhaps it is too much to ask and we are both lucky to be here. I know it is greedy to want more but, Jason, I want his love, I want it desperately.’

 

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