A Kiss from the Heart

by Barbara Cartland

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Sir George leaned forward and spoke to the Earl,

  “You must certainly not disappoint your mother. Your father would not have allowed things to escalate in such a manner had he not been so unwell, and Alec is far too trusting. No, it is good you are here. And, as I said, if I can be of any help to you, you must ask.”

  The Earl nodded, feeling suitably chastened. Sir George was the only person, apart from his mother, whom he would allow to speak to him in such a manner and the older man’s good opinion meant a great deal to him.

  By the time Miranda and her mother arrived back in the room bearing tea and cakes, the conversation had turned to lighter topics and there was laughter once more.

  But the sobered Earl could not forget the words Sir George had said to him.

  Much later, as he went to leave, he shook his hand gravely.

  “Remember what I said,” whispered Sir George as he left.

  “Come and see us again!” called Miranda brightly. “I have a great deal of time on my hands now I am back from London!”

  She did not know what had passed between them, but she sensed that it was something serious.

  As the Earl rode back towards the Hall, he pushed aside Sir George’s stern lecture and then allowed himself to dwell on more pleasant matters.

  ‘I could never have dreamt that dear little Miranda would grow so beautiful!’ he said to himself, as his heart raced as he thought about her.

  ‘She is quite without fault! There is something so completely different about her compared to the women of London – yes, I must see her again!’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Earl soon found that he had little choice in the matter of the running of Ledbury Hall.

  On returning from his visit to the Whitby’s, he was immediately surrounded by people asking him things.

  When he went upstairs to look in on Alec, he asked him if it was always so.

  “Oh, yes,” replied his brother, propped up in bed. “It is never ending. The estates are so large and there is always some tenant farmer with a problem. Those farms do not run themselves!”

  The Earl sighed.

  “I am sorry I was so unfortunate as to break my leg and you have had to step into the breach,” continued Alec. “I was more than happy to organise the place, you know.”

  “Papa thought he was invincible,” murmured the Earl. “He left us all ill-prepared for his demise.”

  “That is true,” agreed Alec. “And you more so than I. At least I used to help on the farms during my school holidays. Do you remember how scandalised Mama was when I came home after my first day’s toil?”

  The Earl laughed.

  “Now I must allow you to rest. I visited Sir George this morning and he has a good inkling who might be at the bottom of all this pilfering.”

  “Then do not be too proud, Robert. Take his help.”

  Alec squeezed his brother’s arm and fell back on the pillow. The Earl could see he was tired and so he left.

  In the study he hurriedly wrote a note to Sir George accepting his kind offer of assistance and asking if he would be good enough to come to the Hall the next morning.

  Then he flicked through the pages of the ledger in front of him. He had already been through it several times that morning and pencilled question marks against certain names and transactions.

  ‘I must put a stop to this,’ he decided. ‘For Mama’s sake!’

  *

  Sir George did not waste any time. First thing after breakfast the next day, he had his horse saddled and, taking his pistol from the gun cabinet in the back hall, he made his way to Ledbury Hall.

  The Earl had just finished breakfast when Stringer announced that Sir George was waiting to see him.

  “Send him in!”

  His mother looked startled.

  She was suddenly aware that her son had come downstairs a very different man to the one who had gone to bed last night.

  “Ah, good morning, Lady Templeton!”

  Sir George’s deep voice almost rattled the cutlery on the dining table as he strode forcefully in to the room.

  “Mama, will you please excuse us?” asked the Earl, dabbing his mouth on a napkin and rising from the table. “There are some pressing matters we wish to bring to a speedy conclusion.”

  “Why, of course, my dear.”

  As he closed the study door the Earl reached for the ledgers and flung them open.

  “Come and look at this, Sir George. I have been up since first thing going through them. And I think you’ll agree, if you look at my annotations that there have been some curious goings-on.”

  Sir George picked up the ledger and ran his eyes down the column of entries.

  “Yes,” he said after a while. “It is as I expected. I see you have noticed just how many men the gamekeeper claims to have working for him as casuals.”

  “And given the amount of men, the quantity of game that reaches the Hall seems terribly low to me. Even allowing that he will have kept some for his own use.”

  “And look at this as well. The ammunition bill! It is enough to kill several herds of elephant, let alone a few hares! Have you had the gun cupboards checked yet?”

  “No, I confess – ”

  “Then, let’s go and inspect them now! I do believe that you will find that they are a little bare!”

  The two men strode purposefully to the back of the house and along to the gallery where the guns were kept.

  “Where are the keys?” enquired Sir George. “No matter, they are unlocked.”

  He pulled open the oak door of the first cupboard, to be greeted by rows of empty casings. Without speaking he went to the next cupboard along and found the same.

  “Well, there have been no riots on the estate that I can think of, so this can only mean one thing!”

  “Hoarcroft, the gamekeeper?”

  “Exactly, Robert. And I’ll wager a large sum that he has his spies in the Hall as well. Tell me, in Stringer’s accounts, does he complain of things going missing or of items being used far more quickly than expected?”

  “Let us return to the study,” urged the Earl. “I have noted some other inconsistencies that Stringer brought to my attention this morning.”

  By the time luncheon was about to be served, both Stringer and the housekeeper, Mrs. Miller, had been taken from their duties and were huddled over the ledgers in the study with frowns on their faces.

  “I’ve been tellin’ Mr. Stringer for weeks now that somethin’ funny was a-goin’ on,” said Mrs. Miller with her arms folded. “Now entire salmon just don’t leap out of my larder! That Effie swore she had never seen it!”

  “I suspect that she may not be the only one who is in league with Hoarcroft,” said Sir George. “I am certain that when I was walking by the barn at Flodder’s meadow recently, I saw two women carrying stuff to a nearby cart.”

  “And Hoarcroft?”

  “He was around patrolling the perimeter. When I challenged him, he said he was looking out for poachers. A likely story!”

  The Earl thanked Mrs. Miller and Stringer for their time and they returned to their duties.

  “We shall have to tackle this at once,” suggested Sir George. “But let us leave it until after we have eaten!”

  “I quite agree. An empty stomach is not what is required here and thank you very much, Sir George. Your intervention in these matters has enabled me to pinpoint the culprits. Do you really believe that if we sack Effie, her other accomplice will come forward?”

  “If you say that unless she names him or her, you will place matters in the hands of the Police, then I believe that she will.”

  As they spoke, the gong sounded for luncheon.

  “Not a word to Mama,” cautioned the Earl. “I wish to surprise her this evening with news of our triumph!”

  *

  Whilst they were eating he sent word to Hoarcroft and his helpers that their presence was requested at once.

/>   “Make it clear that this is an order and not a polite invitation,” said the Earl to the burly groom he had chosen for the job.

  “Will you please tell me what is going on?” asked the Countess, looking confused at the sudden activity in the house.

  “Nothing to concern yourself with, Mama,” soothed the Earl. “Now, Sir George, you mentioned that you were keen to add to your stable. Where were you thinking of buying your new horse? A trip to the fair at Banbury, perhaps?”

  The Countess pursed her lips in annoyance, but let the two gentlemen continue their equine conversation.

  After luncheon she announced that she intended to take a nap and left the room.

  “Now to business,” began the Earl. “Hoarcroft will be here soon. Shall I send for Effie now?”

  “No, wait until he is here.”

  Hoarcroft was a surly man whom the Earl did not really know. He had been engaged shortly before he had left for India, but his first impression of the man was that he was not to be trusted.

  The next hour was not a pleasant experience and the Earl was glad that Sir George was present to add his not inconsiderable weight to the proceedings.

  Hoarcroft swaggered in with all the arrogance of a man convinced he was completely in the right. His helpers loomed behind him with caps in hand looking uneasy.

  When the Earl presented them with incontrovertible evidence of systematic pilfering and selling off of goods from the kitchen, Hoarcroft at first attempted to bluff his way through the accusations – that was until Effie was brought in.

  As soon as she saw Hoarcroft and his cronies, she blurted out her confession and implicated another kitchen maid who was then summoned.

  “You are most fortunate that I am not involving the Police,” the Earl told them sternly. “Now pack your bags, all of you. You are dismissed.”

  Hoarcroft was accompanied back to his cottage by two of the Hall’s largest grooms and they ensured that he left the estate at once.

  Effie and the other kitchen maid were taken in the cart to the village and dropped off in the Market Square. The hired help were told to leave the estate at once and under no circumstances be seen in the environs again or the Police would be alerted.

  “Well done!” exclaimed Sir George, as they finally relaxed in the study. “Today you have stepped up to the mark and shown you are not a man to be trifled with. You will find no further trouble from your servants – a show of strength will send a clear message to the ranks.”

  “I could not have done it without you, Sir George. You supplied the vital clues.”

  “It was nothing you would not have discovered for yourself given more time. But there was no time to be had. The matter needed urgent attention.”

  Sighing heavily, the Earl leaned back in his chair. He felt exhausted but satisfied at the same time.

  “I don’t suppose you know of a gamekeeper I could engage?” he asked.

  “I have a man in mind,” replied Sir George, lighting up a cigar. “I will send him to the Hall in the morning. He used to work at a friend’s estate. He was also in India for a time. He is indeed an excellent man and there should be no complaints.”

  As he rang for Stringer to bring Sir George’s hat, the Earl could not wait to inform his mother of the day’s occurrences.

  ‘I want her to be proud of me!’ he said to himself, as he shook Sir George’s hand.

  *

  The Earl’s involvement in the estate seemed to fire his enthusiasm for the task he had dreaded for so long. He found himself waking early the next morning and was in the study by seven o’clock looking at estate plans.

  It had occurred to him a few days earlier that some improvements were needed to revitalise the tired estate.

  ‘Ledbury Hall has always been very significant and I should maintain that legacy,’ he resolved as the gong for breakfast sounded.

  His mother was full of praise over breakfast.

  “Darling, your father would be so very proud!” she declared, as she buttered her toast. “Hopefully everything will soon return to normal.”

  “I think that may not happen yet awhile. I have had some ideas for improvements, Mama. So I would not rely on it being quiet for long!”

  “A splendid idea, Robert! The Hall should be as modern as possible so that people will admire it from far and wide. And we must maintain our position as the most influential family in the County!”

  But his enthusiasm did not last for long.

  Returning to the study he was suddenly faced with the huge piles of correspondence that still needed replies.

  ‘How am I going to cope?’ he muttered, looking at it anew. ‘I had thought to ask Papa’s old secretary, Miss Jenkins, to return to the Hall. But no one has a clue where she is now!’

  Putting the correspondence problem to the back of his mind, he once again pulled out the plans he had begun to view before breakfast.

  ‘Yes,’ he mused. ‘If we demolish these old farm buildings in the North fields, we could erect a new dairy farm. That is something the estate lacks and this land here could be filled with quite a few workmen’s cottages. Yes, a dairy would be a great addition to the estate!’

  He took out his notebook and wrote in it adding a few rudimentary sketches.

  ‘Alec’s knowledge will be invaluable. He will no doubt have some suggestions to improve on my templates.’

  He worked on for some time and it was only a huge commotion outside that disturbed him from his labours.

  He attempted to continue, but the noise was just too great.

  Eventually he arose from the desk with a sigh and went to investigate.

  Opening the door, he was immediately confronted by an enormous stack of trunks. At once it dawned upon him who was at the bottom of it.

  ‘Damn!’ he muttered, recalling that his mother had invited Lady Florence Waterton to stay at the Hall.

  He was just about to turn on his heel and retreat to the study when his mother came into the hall.

  “Darling, I am so glad you are still at home,” she said, looking a little flustered. “I was afraid that you might have gone out on Monty.”

  “No, Mama, I am here,” he replied wearily.

  “Good. I want you to come and meet our guest!”

  “But, Mama – ”

  His pleas fell on deaf ears. His mother could be a force of nature in moments like these, sweeping all before her. She had also, understandably, been buoyed up by the prospect of her eldest son changing his ways.

  “Come into the drawing room. Lady Waterton is just settling down after her journey. She is most anxious to see you!”

  He realised that the sooner he dispensed with the formal greetings, the sooner he could return to his desk so he duly followed his mother to the drawing room.

  There was, as he walked, the unmistakeable whiff of French perfume pervading the air. It was quite daringly strong for a lady, but then, had not this woman spent a lot of time on the Continent?

  As he entered the room, he was forced to clamp his jaws shut for fear of his mouth dropping open.

  While she was certainly attractive, as his mother had described, she was wearing what he thought was the most ridiculous costume he had seen for quite some time.

  It was so overdone that even Constance would have thought twice before wearing it in public.

  The first thing he observed was the hat – a huge concoction, pale-green straw with great sheaves of wheat and pine cones clamped around the crown fastened with an enormous dark-green ribbon under her chin.

  Lady Waterton extended her hand and looked up at him with sea-green eyes. There was a slightly reddish cast to her hair that hinted at Irish blood.

  He took the outstretched hand and kissed the green leather glove. His eyes swept over the rest of her attire and it was all he could do not to laugh, as it put him in mind of a pantomime outfit for Robin Hood.

  Her dress was sycamore green and sported heavy panniers of Madras muslin edged with embroidery.
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br />   ‘Does she believe that this is suitable attire for the country?’ he thought. ‘I had heard she was a woman of taste!’

  “You will join us, I hope?” asked Lady Waterton. “I feel as if I know you already as your mother has told me so much about you.”

  The Earl cleared his throat.

  “As much of a pleasure as it would be, I am afraid that I am currently engaged in a most important task that I cannot leave. But I shall see you at luncheon no doubt.”

  Lady Waterton smiled and bobbed her head a little making the wheat sheaves on her hat shudder.

  “You shall!” she replied with a demure smile.

  With a short bow he returned to the study. He did not know whether to laugh or groan.

  As a precaution, he rang for Stringer and asked him not to let anyone disturb him again that morning.

  “Especially the lady in green, my Lord?” he asked, impishly.

  “Especially the lady in green, Stringer!”

  As the smirking butler left the room, the Earl gave thanks once more for good and faithful servants.

  Picking up his pencil he took a sheet of paper and began to sketch rough plans for the new dairy farm.

  By the time the gong sounded for luncheon, he had almost finished.

  Hearing footsteps outside that heralded the arrival of his mother and Lady Waterton on their way to the dining room, he rolled up his plans and decided that immediately after the meal he would set off for the Grange to show his plans to Sir George.

  ‘That way I shall be able to avoid having to entertain Lady Waterton too!’

  He arrived in the dining room and was relieved that their guest had changed out of her bilious outfit and now wore a pretty floral dress that was more becoming.

  “Sit next to Florence, darling,” exhorted his mother.

  Without any murmur of complaint the Earl took his allotted place.

  At close quarters and without that ridiculous hat Lady Waterton was an attractive woman. With her reddish hair and bold face there was something about her that now reminded him of a Pre-Raphaelite painting he had seen at an exhibition.

  She was also, as his mother had said, an excellent conversationalist and when luncheon arrived they were talking about hunting and horses. It transpired that she was keen to immerse herself in country pursuits.