Beauty or Brains

by Barbara Cartland

  ‘I have certainly fallen on my feet,’ Iona thought to herself.

  Then she decided to see more of the house in case she had to leave, although the Earl had said he wanted to keep her, but, as he was so unpredictable, he might easily change his mind, however well she cooked for him.

  She jumped out of bed and pulled back the curtains.

  ‘There is,’ she thought, ‘a great deal to be done to this room to make it clean and tidy.’

  There was dust everywhere and she was quite sure that the carpet had not been brushed for months.

  Equally it was a very beautiful room and she was thrilled to be in it.

  She dressed quickly and, going down the stairs, was aware that no one else was about.

  She let herself out of a side door, which she thought would lead to the stables and she was not mistaken.

  She felt that she had been remiss in not looking at her ponies before she went to bed.

  But when she left the Earl after dinner she felt sure, although she should have gone out to look, that the ponies would be all right.

  She peeped into two stables before she found them and then realised that they were indeed very comfortable.

  Their stalls were clean and there was fresh straw on the ground and she could see that there were buckets of water for them and food in the manger.

  She patted them both and talked to them and they seemed pleased to see her.

  Then, as there was no one about in the stables, she walked into the garden.

  She could see the places where the Earl had been digging to find the money his uncle had hidden.

  There was a large hole on one side of the carved basin of the fountain and other large gaps in the lawn.

  ‘He surely does not expect the fortune to be hidden under the grass,’ she said to herself.

  Then, as she could see more places that had been dug up, she realised how frustrating it must be for the Earl to find nothing when he was looking so diligently for it.

  She walked down to the lake and was surprised to find that he had cut deeply into the side of it. There were some gaping holes in the rim and bricks had been removed.

  She tried to visualise how an elderly man who was a miser would store his fortune.

  It seemed to her ridiculous for the Earl to think for a moment that he had buried it outside the house.

  ‘I suppose,’ she told herself, ‘that he has looked all over the house from the top to the bottom before he started on the outside.’

  She sensed that time was moving on and returned to the kitchen, entering by the same door she had opened earlier in the morning.

  She guessed, as she did so, that it should have been locked and bolted and she was quite certain that the other doors in the house were the same.

  ‘The old Earl must have been afraid of burglars,’ she told herself, ‘and, of course, people will talk not only about the furniture and pictures here. They will talk of the money that is hidden somewhere and it must be in a very clever place or the Earl would have found it before now.’

  She started cooking breakfast and she was not alone for long when Newman joined her.

  “Good morning,” she said, as he walked in through the door that led from the pantry.

  “I were just askin’ myself if you be ill,” Newman replied. “In fact, when I wakes up this mornin’, I thinks that what happened last night was a dream!”

  Iona laughed.

  “I expect you will want the dream to cook you a breakfast. So sit down and let me give you your eggs and bacon right away.”

  Newman did as he was told.

  “I says to the Missus, I says, if that pretty lady has vanished in the night I should not be in the least surprised.”

  “I should have been most surprised if I had had to vanish,” Iona said. “I am so grateful to you for giving me such a beautiful bedroom. I slept like a top.”

  “I thinks you would, miss, after such a long day on the road there’s not a man or woman who doesn’t feel they needs a good sleep and no one to keep them awake.”

  Iona put the plate of eggs and bacon in front of him and then she started to make the French croissants that she knew would please the Earl.

  She was quite relieved to find that there was plenty of butter in the larder although she had not brought it from Mr. Hopkins yesterday.

  As if she had asked the question, Newman said,

  “That comes from the farm. We be fortunate in not havin’ to pay for it, as we haven’t had to pay for all the chickens and eggs we have eaten.”

  Iona was thinking how at her own home everything that came from the farms was always fresh and delicious.

  “I suppose there are fish in your lake? Are they edible?” she asked Newman.

  “They are good enough when we can get them, but I haven’t the patience to be a fisherman. The only boy who bring us one now is the boy who works in the stables, as he likes bein’ with the horses but gets no pay.”

  “I think his Lordship is a very lucky man in having so many people working for him without payment.”

  “Well, I have not seen him in such a good humour as he was after his dinner,” Newman said. “But then my wife has never pretended to be a cook and he’s just had to have what she could manage.”

  “I think you have both been marvellous,” Iona said, “and that is why I hope we don’t take too long to find the treasure.”

  “Well, if anyone can find it, it has to be you, miss. As I says to the wife last night, you have been so generous to us it seems as if our luck has now changed and Manna is comin’ down from Heaven when we least expected it.”

  Iona laughed.

  “I have been called many things, but not ‘Manna’.”

  However, she was speaking to deaf ears because at that moment both she and Newman heard the Earl’s voice coming from the dining room.

  “I am ready for my breakfast,” he was calling out loudly.

  Newman thrust a piece of bacon into his mouth and then, pulling on his coat, hurried out of the kitchen.

  He left the door wide open and, as Iona dished up what she had been cooking for him, she could hear the two men talking in the distance.

  She put everything on a tray and, as Newman came back, she said,

  “Now it’s all ready for him. He will have to wait a moment for his coffee.”

  “That be somethin’ he has complained about every time when my wife has made it for him, but I thinks he will be all smiles this mornin’.”

  “I do hope so,” Iona replied anxiously.

  She was tidying up the table and wondering if Mr. Hopkins had found her someone for the washing-up when Newman came back.

  “His Lordship’s now as pleased as punch over your croissants,” he said, “and hopes you have some new ideas for luncheon. I’ve never seen him in such a good mood.”

  “I will think of something.”

  As she spoke there was a knock at the kitchen door.

  Newman opened it and there was an elderly woman standing outside.

  “Good mornin’, Mrs. Barley,” he said. “And what brings you here?”

  “Mr. Hopkins tells me you wants ’elp in the kitchen and I’ll be paid for it. I’m not comin’ if I aint paid!”

  Newman looked towards Iona.

  “You will be paid right enough and here’s the lady as’ll pay you, as she’s promised.”

  Mrs. Barley looked questioningly at Iona, who said,

  “I love cooking but I hate doing the washing-up. If you will help me, I will pay you three shillings an hour.”

  It was the amount she knew that the scullions were paid at home and she hoped that it was enough.

  There was no doubt that Mrs. Barley’s eyes lit up at the idea of three shillings an hour.

  “I’ll be real glad to ’ave that when things be so bad at the moment with my ’usband and two sons ’avin’ little or nothin’ to do.”

  Mrs. Barley was now taking off her hat and coat and it was obvious that she ha
d been in the kitchen before as she found herself an apron out of one of the drawers.

  Then, as Iona was thanking her for coming to help her, Newman came in to say that the Earl wanted her.

  “He’s finishin’ his breakfast and I thinks he wants to show you the house, miss.” he said.

  “That is exactly what I want to see,” Iona replied.

  She took off her apron and threw it over a chair.

  She found it exciting to see this strange house that had been a haven for her when she had been so desperate to find somewhere to stay.

  She walked along the passage to the dining room and found the Earl rising from the table having consumed practically everything that she had sent him.

  “Good morning, Miss Lang” he said. “I have been wondering since I came downstairs if you had disappeared in the same way you appeared so mysteriously yesterday.”

  He smiled at her and then continued,

  “I came to the conclusion, until I saw my breakfast, that I could not expect to be lucky for two days running.”

  “I am glad you enjoyed your breakfast, my Lord.”

  “Of course I enjoyed it. It was straight from Paris. I knew, as soon as I saw the croissants.”

  He laughed as he added,

  “How could you look as you do and cook so well? You are a chef straight from the Rue de Rivoli.”

  “I am hoping I shall see a little more of the house before I go back to work in the kitchen,” Iona smiled.

  “That is exactly what I want you to see. Then you will understand why I behave in such an extraordinary way and never, in my whole life, have I felt so frustrated.”

  For the moment there was a note in his voice that she had not heard before and Iona said quickly,

  “Don’t forget that I am sure you will be lucky and you must not despair or upset yourself too quickly.”

  “That is easier said than done,” he replied. “Now come on! I will take you round the house and, if anyone can make my fortune spring out of the bricks, it will, I am quite certain, be you!”

  “We shall just have to hope, my Lord, and pray that we will be successful.”

  The Earl looked at her for a moment and asked,

  “Have you already prayed that I might find what I am seeking?”

  “Of course I have,” Iona replied. “No one could come to this beautiful house or see how lovely the gardens are, as I saw this morning, without thinking that it should be in perfect condition and not allowed to become – ”

  She stopped suddenly.

  She felt that it was wrong to say how she could see already the state it was in because it was so neglected.

  Last night she had noticed dust in the dining room, but now that they were in the long passage that led to the hall, she was horrified at the dirt everywhere.

  The windows were grubby and not as easy to see through as they should have been.

  In the hall she could see that the ashes had not been removed from the fireplace and the windows on either side of the front door were almost darkened by grime.

  She said nothing and they walked on until the Earl opened a door of what she guessed was the drawing room.

  It was a beautiful room and the furniture in it was all antique and, she knew, very valuable.

  The pictures hanging on the walls were by famous artists, but the drawing room was not only dusty but there were cobwebs climbing from one picture to another.

  Iona looked round wondering what she should say.

  The Earl now said sharply,

  “My uncle closed this room up because he was too mean to entertain and it has been allowed to rot now for nearly ten years.”

  He turned round as if he could hardly bear to look at it and went back into the passage.

  When Iona joined him, he slammed the door shut and they walked on.

  Every room they entered was in the same state.

  The collection of books in the library were thick with cobwebs with large spiders climbing over them.

  The music room was in very much the same state and, although she just longed to play the piano, she was sure that it would need tuning.

  Neither of them said very much as they went from room to room.

  Then he took her up the wide staircase and along a passage to the Picture Gallery.

  It was a very large room and the pictures in it were undoubtedly magnificent and worth a great deal of money. It was appalling to think that they had been so neglected.

  Every picture wanted cleaning and the floor itself would have been a disgrace to any housemaid.

  There was a very fine fireplace at the end of the Picture Gallery and Iona saw in front of the mantelpiece that there was a strange gold cornet.

  It was larger and of a different design than any she had seen before.

  It was attached to the front of the fireplace which in Mediaeval fashion sloped back so that anyone could walk behind the fire.

  She was standing gazing at it and, because neither she nor the Earl had spoken for some time, she remarked,

  “That is a strange cornet. In fact I was wondering where it came from.”

  “One of my ancestors brought it back from Tibet,” the Earl replied. “My uncle placed it there for protection for this room, which, of course, is the most valuable in the whole house.”

  “For protection?” Iona questioned.

  “It makes the most extraordinarily loud noise when one blows it,” the Earl explained, “and he attached to the chimney above a device that will increase the noise if one blows up through it.”

  “It sounds very unusual,” Iona said. “Why should one want to blow it?”

  “Because my uncle believed that, if a burglar was caught trying to steal one of these priceless pictures, those who found him could blow the cornet up the chimney.

  “I am told the noise it makes can be heard by the villagers who would then, he thought, come to capture the burglar or any intruder in the house.”

  “What an extraordinary idea and at the same time it is an original way of attracting attention,” Iona laughed.

  “My uncle did not encourage people to visit, so I am quite certain if they heard the noise of the cornet being carried to them in the night, they would know something was amiss and come running to either arrest the burglars or support those who were fighting against them.”

  He gave a little grunt, as he added,

  “I say ‘those’, but until you arrived there was only myself and Newman and his old wife to protect the whole house. I cannot believe that we would be very successful.”

  “You sound as if you are expecting a whole army of burglars,” Iona said. “If you close all the doors, I cannot believe it would be easy to get in or to take away any of these beautiful pictures.”

  “That is what I tell myself,” the Earl replied. “But my uncle had other ideas, although I think the village have long since given up expecting to hear the trumpet call.”

  He made it sound so amusing that Iona laughed.

  “It would indeed need an army of burglars to carry away any of these beautiful but very large pictures, so I am sure you need not be worried about robbers, although, of course, there are many people in every part of the world who would be thrilled to own even one of these pictures.”

  “Which are rotting as you can easily see, because it is impossible to take care of them. How could my uncle have been such a fool as to hide his money so that I cannot even afford to clean the pictures?”

  He spoke so bitterly that for a moment Iona could not think of a reply and then she said in a small voice,

  “Are you sure, my Lord, it is not possible for you to sell just one picture to save and protect all the others?”

  “Do you suppose I have not thought of that? Of course I have! But those who have been put in the position of guarding the contents of the house and making sure that nothing entailed is sold or stolen, come here once a month to check that I have not broken the law.”

  “I think that is almost a
n insult,” Iona said, “after all they should take your word for it.”

  The Earl laughed scornfully.

  “They would not trust me with a single miniature, let alone the huge paintings you see here. In fact they are so insulting in the way they check everything, as if I am a common thief, that I always go out when they arrive and stay in the woods until they have left.”

  “I don’t blame you, my Lord, I would do so myself. But then you must find your uncle’s fortune, so it will not be necessary for them to come prying on you so often.”

  “That is exactly what I thought myself, but, as he has hidden his fortune, I believe the only way we can find it is to take down the house and search amongst the ruins!”

  “That is something you must not do, my Lord. “It is the most beautiful house. And I have never seen such glorious pictures and furniture as you have here.”

  “I appreciate what you are saying,” the Earl replied, “but you can see the condition everything is in and I often wonder how long I can stay without starving to death.”

  He did not wait for her to answer, but moved away as if even to look at the pictures in the Gallery upset him.

  He then took her down to the guardroom which had been built underneath the house, where there was a superb collection of ancient armour.

  There were also strange swords and articles of war from other countries and Iona found them all intriguing.

  She kept thinking how thrilled people would be at seeing this amazing collection.

  She thought it pitiful that no one would come to the house as it was at present, nor would the Earl want to show the desolation he lived in to strangers.

  She was very interested in a small pistol that one of the Earl’s ancestors had brought from Russia, which was beautifully set with opals and other stones.

  The Earl told her how one of his relatives had used it in a duel and been the easy winner against his opponent.

  “It is certainly unique,” Iona said, “and I would like to try it out. Do let’s fire it in the garden. I am sure you have a target hidden somewhere.”

  The Earl laughed.

  “Of course I have. I will show you tomorrow how accurate it can be despite its age. In case I forget, you keep the pistol and I will find the target.”