The Sign of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  Finally Mrs. Kingdom opened a door into a room that was not as large or as awe-inspiring as Bettina had expected.

  In fact it was low-ceilinged but very attractive with Chinese paper depicting flowers on the walls and the hangings on the bed were also embroidered with flowers.

  “How pretty!” Bettina exclaimed.

  ‘This is the Elizabethan wing, miss, which His Grace has only recently had redecorated.”

  “It is lovely,” Bettina said looking round and seeing flowers everywhere.

  She felt that she knew why the Duke had chosen it for her.

  “It’s even prettier in the summer, miss,” Mrs. Kingdom explained. “The balcony outside has steps goin’ down into a small garden of its own and the walls are covered with wisteria.”

  “It sounds entrancing!”

  “Of course there’s nothin’ but snow now.”

  “I was thinking how beautifully warm the house is,” Bettina commented.

  The housekeeper smiled.

  “His Grace always insists that a fire is lit in every room at this time of the year.”

  “In every room?” Bettina echoed.

  “Yes, miss. It keeps the temperature high all the winter and we none of us have colds, sneezes and sniffles as happens in other houses.”

  “It certainly sounds very luxurious.”

  “We should be ever so humiliated if our guests didn’t have every comfort possible,” the housekeeper replied.

  Bettina was well aware that, when the staff talked of a place as being ‘theirs’ as well as belonging to their Master, it was the sign of a happy household.

  As she took off her bonnet and cape, she thought how kind it was of the Duke to have put her in a room that he knew she would appreciate because she loved flowers.

  It was then she saw that on her dressing table there were two vases filled with white orchids and she thought perhaps he had telegraphed ahead to order them.

  Then she told herself that it could only be coincidence.

  A maid came to ask if she could help her, but Bettina was ready to go downstairs again.

  She found the way to the salon and discovered that a most elaborate tea was set out beside the fireplace. There was a profusion of silver and cake stands containing every sort of delicacy.

  “We are waiting for you to pour out,” the Duke encouraged her. “You must get used to being hostess.”

  Bettina blushed as she took her place, but, while Sir Charles refused a cup of tea, the Duke had one and she poured one for herself.

  “You look as if you have something to say,” Sir Charles said as the Duke stood with his back to the fire.

  “I know what you want to talk about, Charles,” the Duke responded with a faint smile, “but I intend to discuss our marriage with Bettina alone. Then later we will tell you what we have decided.”

  “You are being rather high-handed,” Sir Charles smiled.

  “Why not?” the Duke enquired. “It is Bettina’s Wedding Day and I think, as she is the most celebrated person concerned, that everything should be as she wishes rather than anyone else.”

  “I am not grumbling,” Sir Charles replied. “I am only so happy that the two people I love best in the world should be together.”

  “I am sure that Bettina wants to rest before dinner,” the Duke said, “But I want to take her round The Castle myself and it would be too late tonight.”

  “Naturally,” Sir Charles agreed, “and there is tomorrow unless you want to do anything else.”

  “That is what I was about to tell you,” the Duke answered impatiently. “I have to go to London. It is only for the day and I shall be back late in the evening, but perhaps not until after dinner.”

  “So you are leaving us on our own,” Sir Charles observed.

  “I daresay you will find plenty in the stables to amuse you. Do you ride, Bettina?”

  “When I have the chance of borrowing a horse,” Bettina replied.

  “Well, you will find that you have a pretty wide choice here,” the Duke said and added to Sir Charles,

  “There is no hunting tomorrow, Charles, but unless we have a very hard frost I am told that it may be possible on Thursday.”

  “Then I will take Bettina out for a ride and see if she has forgotten all the lessons I taught her,” Sir Charles answered.

  “I wish I could come with you, Charles, but I really have to go to London.”

  Bettina could not help wondering if he was going to see Lady Daisy and if he intended to tell both her and Lady Tatham that he intended to be married.

  Then the thought struck her that even if he was married it might make no difference to his relationship with them.

  The idea was so agonising, just like a physical pain and she knew that she was jealous.

  ‘How can I help it when I love him so?’ she asked herself. ‘He is so handsome and so attractive and I can understand that there will always be women like Lady Daisy and Lady Tatham running after him.’

  Then suddenly the largeness of the house and her own insignificance made her feel that everything was too overpowering and she almost wished that she could run away from it all.

  ‘I shall disappoint him,’ she then told herself unhappily.

  But, when she came down the stairs to dinner and saw the Duke, magnificent in his evening clothes, waiting for her in the salon, she felt that any agony she must suffer was worthwhile because she loved him.

  She was wearing one of the simple gowns that she had taken with her in the yacht and which the maids had hurriedly pressed after they had unpacked it.

  Bettina had taken two of the orchids from the vase on the dressing table and pinned them to the front of her gown.

  She saw the Duke glance at them as she curtseyed to him and she said touching them with her long fingers,

  “They were in my bedroom and they made me think of those you gave me when we went to the Khedive’s party. I am so thrilled to have them as I have no jewels with me.”

  “I have not forgotten,” the Duke nodded, “but I would have sent you some to wear tonight if I had not already decided to give you something else.”

  As he spoke, he took a box from the table by the fireplace and held it out to her.

  “It belongs to the Alveston collection, but I thought you would like to wear it until I can buy you some jewellery that will be entirely your own.”

  Bettina opened the box and gave a little exclamation of surprise for it contained a spray of flowers in diamonds very delicately made and so exquisite that they were an exact replica of the flowers they depicted.

  “How – lovely!” she breathed.

  “I knew you would think so. It was made by one of the Master craftsmen in the last century and I thought, Bettina, it would become you.”

  “Thank you, thank you very much!” Bettina enthused. “Shall I put it on?”

  “I should be very disappointed if you did not.”

  She took off the two orchids that she had pinned to the front of her gown, but, when she would have fixed the brooch herself, the Duke did it for her.

  He did it quickly and dexterously, but Bettina felt for a moment the touch of his fingers against her skin and a little quiver went through her.

  As if he felt it too, the Duke looked at her and as their eyes met Bettina felt herself quiver again.

  Before either of them could speak Sir Charles came into the salon.

  *

  On the next day Bettina first inspected the stables with her father and then they rode together in the Park.

  It was several months since Bettina had been on a horse and she had never been mounted on such a magnificent stallion as had been suggested for her by the Duke’s Head Groom.

  She had fortunately packed amongst the clothes she had taken to Egypt a riding habit that one of her French friends had given her because her own was completely worn out. It was very becoming but rather too elaborate for what was fashionable in England.

  Her father, looking a
t her critically, suggested,

  “You had better order for yourself some really smart habits from Busvines. They are the best tailors and it is a mistake to be overdressed in the hunting field.”

  “I believe Busvines are very expensive, Papa.”

  “What does that matter?” Sir Charles replied.

  Bettina looked at him enquiringly and he said after a moment,

  “Varien has already told me that he will pay for your trousseau.”

  “Oh, Papa, I am sure that is – incorrect.”

  “It may well be, but you can hardly go to your Wedding looking like Cinderella! Varien, as you know, is used to well-dressed women.”

  Bettina said nothing.

  She only felt it embarrassing that the Duke should be paying for the clothes she wore before she became his wife, while Sir Charles was only too ready to accept everything he could from him.

  From the way that Lady Daisy and Lady Tatham talked she had suspected that the Duke had given them innumerable presents and had paid a number of their bills as well.

  She instinctively wished to be different and to avoid if possible taking anything from him at any rate until she bore his name.

  She knew that her father would not understand her reluctance to behave like the other women the Duke knew, but however much she wished to pay for her own clothes she knew that they could not afford it.

  At the same time Bettina found herself worrying as to what she should do, or at least what she could say to the Duke, to make him realise that she was not grasping at everything he could offer.

  Last night when she had gone to bed and taken off the brooch that he had given her, she had thought as it glittered in the lights in her bedroom that it almost had a message for her.

  Then she told herself that she was just being imaginative.

  The Duke was being kind and considerate and it was only something from the Alveston collection.

  After all he had loaned both Lady Daisy and Lady Tatham the jewels that they had appeared in at the Khedive’s party.

  It made her think that after all she would rather have had the orchids as at least they were personal and had not been worn before by anyone but herself.

  Then she knew that she was being ungrateful.

  But, when she climbed into bed and lay with only the firelight flickering on the beautiful flowered wallpaper, she felt that she yearned and longed for something that she could not put into words.

  “I should be the happiest girl in the world,” she said aloud and yet there was something missing.

  The next day it began to snow after tea and, while Sir Charles dozed in front of the fire, Bettina walked round the salon looking at the pictures, the exquisite objets d’art and the inlaid tables.

  She wished that she could explore the other parts of The Castle, but the Duke had said that he wanted to show it to her himself and she started to count the hours until she could see him again.

  ‘I want to talk to him, I want to be alone with him,’ she murmured beneath her breath and wondered what he would have to say about their Wedding.

  ‘Perhaps he will want it to be a long engagement,’ she thought, ‘as that would give him time to adjust himself to the idea of being married again.’

  It was painful to think of the wife he had once had and the unhappiness he had endured.

  ‘I will do everything he wants,’ Bettina told herself and then prayed that what he wanted would not involve other women.

  The idea made her unnecessarily restless and Sir Charles awoke to ask,

  “Why are you prowling about, Bettina? What are you hoping to find?”

  “Only more treasures,” Bettina smiled. “I have never seen so many exquisite items all in one room.”

  “Wait until you see the rest of The Castle. It has been added to by every successive generation of Alvestons, who have all of them been collectors in one way or another.”

  Bettina was listening to her father intently and he went on,

  “There are Temples in the garden that came from Greece and weapons in the Armoury that have been acquired in India and Turkey. The French furniture is, I believe, a unique collection while the pictures are all superlative.”

  “Papa, I want to ask you something,” Bettina said, sitting down beside him.

  “What is it ?”

  “Do you – think it is – possible for me to make the Duke – happy?”

  Sir Charles was silent for a moment and then he replied in a different tone of voice from the one he had used before,

  “I understand what you are asking me, Bettina, and I am going to answer you honestly. I don’t know!”

  “I was afraid that was what you might say, Papa.”

  “I love Varien, he is a magnificent man, generous and kind. And yet there is some wall fencing him in that no one, not even his best friends, can climb.”

  “That is – what I – feel,” Bettina murmured.

  “It’s a reserve or perhaps a defence thrown up following his first ghastly marriage,” Sir Charles said. “But whatever it is, it makes him in some ways unapproachable.”

  He rose to his feet to stand with his back to the fireplace before he carried on,

  “You are young, Bettina, and you are idealistic. I know what you are asking me is whether Varien will ever love you. You want a happy ending to the Fairytale. What woman does not?”

  Bettina did not speak, but her eyes were on her father’s face.

  “All I can hope for is that you will find what your mother and I found,” Sir Charles continued, “perfect happiness when two people really love each other. But where Varien is concerned I have no idea whether you can break through the barrier that stands between him and those who reach for his heart.”

  Sir Charles threw his cigar into the fire.

  “Dammit all!” he exclaimed. “I ought to have answered you in a different way. I ought to have made you believe that it is possible and that you will succeed.”

  “I would rather know the – truth, Papa.”

  “Then all I can say is that there is an outside chance. I have often backed an outsider and watched him gallop first past the Winning Post.”

  Bettina rose to her feet and kissed her father’s cheek.

  “Thank you, Papa.”

  She went from the salon and, as Sir Charles watched her go, there was an expression of pain in his eyes.

  They went to bed early because, as Sir Charles said, it was a change for him after the late nights he had spent playing cards on board The Jupiter and the snow had made him sleepy.

  It had been snowing all evening, but, when Bettina looked out of her bedroom window, there was a full moon coming through the clouds and even a few stars to be seen in the sky.

  They were of nothing like the brilliance or the size of the stars above the desert that she had gazed at with the Duke, but they made her think of him and she felt herself longing for tomorrow to come quickly so that they would be together again.

  “I love him!” she whispered looking up into the Heavens and prayed that he would one day love her.

  “Just a little, God,” she said, “just a very little. I don’t ask for anything as wonderful as the love Papa had for Mama, but just a little love! Make him want to be with me and not find me a bore.”

  The moonlight revealed the snow-covered enclosed garden beneath her window and beyond it she could see the trees with inches of snow on their bare branches.

  ‘This is a Fairyland,’ she told herself, ‘and, although the Duke is undoubtedly Prince Charming, I cannot hope that I am really the Princess he has been looking for all his life.’

  The idea was dispiriting.

  So she let the curtains fall and, crossing the room, she climbed into bed.

  The firelight flickered on the flowers on the Chinese wallpaper, on the orchids on her dressing table and on the curtains with their forget-me-nots, roses and lilies-of-the-valley embroidered centuries ago by skilful fingers.

  ‘It is all so beauti
ful, but it needs love,’ Bettina told herself.

  Her eyes closed and she was just drifting into dreamland when she heard a sound at the window.

  For a moment it hardly registered in her mind. Then she thought that it was a spray of ivy tapping against the glass.

  If often happened in a wind and more than once at school in France she had been awakened in such a manner because the schoolhouse had many creepers climbing up it.

  The sound came again and now Bettina heard the long French window being opened and sat up, not for the moment afraid but surprised.

  The curtains parted and Lord Eustace then came into the room!

  The firelight shone on his face and she stared at him in sheer astonishment before she exclaimed,

  “Lord Eustace! What are you – doing here?”

  He came towards her still with his hat on his head and she saw that he was wearing a long dark overcoat.

  “Why have you come to – The Castle?” she asked.

  “I have come for you.”

  “What do you – mean?”

  “What I say.”

  He reached the bed and she stared up at him in disbelief.

  “I told you that I intend to marry you,” Lord Eustace said, “and, as I realise that you are incapable of deciding such a thing for yourself, I have decided it for you.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Bettina cried. “You must go away – go away at once! You should not be here in my bedroom – as you well know.”

  “I am certainly leaving,” he answered, “but you are coming with me.”

  He reached out as he spoke and Bettina saw that he had a handkerchief in his hand.

  She pressed herself back against the pillows putting out her hands as she cried,

  “What are you – doing? Go – away. Don’t – touch me.”

  Before she could say the last word the handkerchief was over her mouth and he had gagged her.

  He knotted it behind her head even while she struck out at him with her hands realising as she did so that it was now impossible for her to scream.

  She was hampered by the bedclothes covering her and, before she could attempt to move away from him and jump out of the other side of the bed, he had taken a broad strap from his coat pocket.