Love Drives In

by Barbara Cartland

  She had a sudden feeling that it was almost too much to see it again, to know it was empty of everyone she loved.

  'I may have to live here alone, completely alone,' she told herself and wanted to cry.

  "Stay and dine with me tonight," she asked Mr. Johnson. "I'll return soon."

  "Thank you. While you're gone I'll write some letters."

  She took the carriage and drove to the little church. There she found the family vault and knelt before it, weeping.

  'Help me,' she prayed. 'I don't know what to do.'

  She was not sure whether she was praying to God, or to her parents in Heaven. But when she rose she felt that, wherever they were at this moment, her father and mother were thinking of her and loving her.

  It was late when she left the church and went back to the great house that was now hers.

  Mr. Johnson had just finished his letters, and despatched a footman to post them urgently.

  As they sat down to dinner he said,

  "You have not yet told me what you learnt from Lord Kennington?"

  Dorina drew in her breath.

  'If I told him the truth,' she thought, 'he would certainly be surprised. But I cannot tell him everything.'

  "Really very little," she said. "He had so many letters, which had nothing to do with business."

  "Did you manage to discover if he really is advanced with his horseless carriage?"

  "It's very hard to say," she replied cautiously, "since I do not really understand what you would consider advanced. And, of course, I have no way of comparing his invention with our own design."

  "You'll see ours tomorrow," he assured her. "And you'll meet a lot of your workforce. Then, the day after, I'm hoping to put the horseless carriage on display.

  "Those letters I've just sent were to potential customers. They should arrive first post tomorrow, and I think people will abandon any other plans and hurry here to see the sensation of the age."

  "The sensation of the age," Dorina murmured, thinking of the beautiful carriage that the Earl had shown her.

  "I think we'll get ahead of our rivals," said Mr. Johnson with glee. "I'm sure Lord Kennington has not yet shown his carriage to customers."

  "That would certainly put us in an advantageous position," Dorina said carefully.

  She was caught in a trap. In the next few days she would be challenging the man she loved and in a way that could destroy his dreams.

  And there was nothing she could do to prevent it. If she held back on her own carriage, she would be betraying the faithful men who had worked so hard for her father and whose work had brought success so close.

  When Mr. Johnson had left, Dorina went up to her room and found it cold and empty.

  "Oh, but you're not in here any more, miss," said the housekeeper. "You're in the master's old room."

  So she knew that he was dead. Of course, all the servants must know. But they had said nothing and loyally kept the secret.

  The housekeeper formally escorted Dorina to her father's old room, which she found freshly cleaned with a fire in the grate as the evening was chilly.

  "Thank you, Hannah," she said. "This was very thoughtful of you."

  "It was only right and proper, miss," Hannah said. "This is the master's room. And you're the master now."

  'Master' Dorina noted. Not 'mistress'.

  And that was right, for it was a man's work she had to do here. In their own way her servants had let her know what they expected of her. Tomorrow her work force would let her know the same.

  And this was their right for they depended on her. Her own feelings did not matter.

  The trap was closing on her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dorina dressed with great care the next day. She was in mourning for her father and now for the first time, she could acknowledge this. So she chose a black dress. Her hat and gloves were black. Anyone seeing her would understand the truth at once.

  Mr. Johnson had evidently had the same idea, for he too was dressed in black when he arrived at the house to collect her.

  "I've ordered your entire Birmingham workforce to congregate in the Hatton factory," he said. "Are you ready?"

  "Ready for anything," she replied.

  They drove to the Hatton factory, which was the largest of the three Birmingham establishments. The place was already buzzing with life when they arrived.

  Both men and women were arriving, for John Radford had employed many females in the offices of his factories.

  They turned their heads at the sound of the carriage arriving, and smiled at the sight of Dorina. But their smiles faded when they saw how she was dressed.

  At last she stood before them on a platform in the main workshop. Now a hush had fallen, as they had begun to suspect what they were about to hear.

  Mr. Johnson spoke first. In grave tones he confirmed that John Radford had died and had been buried quietly.

  "The secrecy was necessary in order not to alert our rivals. They might think that his demise heralded a period of weakness in this company. If so, they were mistaken. We may no longer have John Radford, but we have his heir and his chosen successor, Miss Dorina Radford."

  There was a moment of shock, for it was unheard of to have a woman taking charge of a commercial enterprise. But most of the people here knew her, at least by sight, and she was a link to the man they had admired. So, after that first quiet moment, they burst into applause.

  Mr. Johnson stood back and indicated to Dorina to come forward. The applause increased, but at last there was silence.

  This was it, the moment she had known must come, when she must assume her inheritance and her responsibilities, whatever the cost.

  She spoke movingly of her father and the great industrial empire he had created. Then she turned their thoughts to the future.

  "My father would have wanted us to carry on in the pioneering spirit with which he inspired us," she cried. "I shall do my part, but it rests with you, whether we gradually die away, or go forward and bring great new inventions to our country like the horseless carriage, which is going to lead a revolution. I believe that we will be at the head of that revolution – where we ought to be."

  One or two people began to clap but Dorina raised her hand and went on,

  "We will increase our production year by year with new ideas and new inventions. You have been marvellous so far in keeping us ahead in engineering in this country. I can only beg of you to go on getting better and better every year, as you have done in the past."

  She sat down amidst tumultuous applause.

  It was done. The die was cast. Now all the world would know that John Radford was dead and the torch had passed to his daughter. From this moment there was no going back.

  There were more speeches as the senior members of staff welcomed her and pledged their loyalty. Then with enormous pride, they led her to the place where the horseless carriage stood waiting.

  Dorina braced herself, but it was still a shock to see a machine that looked so similar to the one she had seen in the Earl's workshop. With every eye on her, she tried to remember that she was supposed to be seeing such an invention for the first time.

  They showed her how it worked, and she exclaimed with wonder, while all the time she was noticing how exactly alike it was to the Earl's. The differences were tiny.

  She was introduced to the company driver, a man called Jeremiah Conway. He got behind the wheel and began to drive the machine around. There was applause and, to everyone's satisfaction, Miss Radford applauded harder than anyone.

  Mr. Conway leaned down to her.

  "Would you like to sit beside me?" he asked, reaching out a hand to her.

  She took it, climbing into the passenger seat, and suddenly she was back in an earlier time, when she and the Earl had sat side by side behind the wheel of his carriage.

  She sat there while the carriage went around again and then she said,

  "I would like to drive."

  There were
murmurs of approval. Everyone admired her spirit and were astonished when she managed to drive all around the workshop without mishap. But nobody suspected that she had done this before.

  She could not help observing that the steering was not quite as smooth as that on the Earl's vehicle. But there was nothing she could say.

  'How can I bear this?' she asked herself. 'I deceived him and now I'm deceiving them. But I never meant to deceive anybody.'

  At last the occasion was over. Dorina left to the accompaniment of cheers, and went home to prepare for the great dinner Mr. Johnson had organised for that night at Birmingham's most prestigious hotel.

  For that dinner she wore black again, but this time it was a black evening gown, adorned with diamonds. She looked stately and magnificent and conveyed an impression of prosperity, which she knew was what her workers needed to see.

  At eight o'clock she made her entrance into the Grand Hotel, sweeping into the great banqueting hall on Mr. Johnson's arm. Eighty of her senior staff rose to greet her with more applause.

  This time it had a slightly different sound. Earlier that day they had been unsure of her. Now they had transferred their trust to her. They accepted her.

  There were more speeches, but this time they came from the senior workers, welcoming their new employer and promising her their loyalty.

  Then the speeches altered slightly in tone and became a hymn of praise to the horseless carriage and what it would mean for the future of the world.

  "Others have sought to get ahead of us," one speaker said. "The Earl of Kennington is our greatest rival, but he has not achieved what we have achieved. Our technology is superior to anything he has."

  Dorina kept the smile on her face, but inwardly she knew that this was not so.

  'He will hear of this dinner,' she thought. 'He will know I sat here and heard him abused.'

  She was in agony, but she was still trapped.

  At last the evening was over. As he saw her to her carriage, Mr. Johnson said,

  "Sleep well tonight. We have a very big day ahead of us tomorrow. In fact – "

  He broke off. Dorina frowned, wondering at a suppressed excitement in his manner.

  "What is it?" she asked. "What were you going to say?"

  "Nothing, nothing. Just something I planned – well, I'm hoping for – it's very unlikely but miracles do happen."

  "Won't you tell me what it is?"

  "No, that would be unlucky. Let's just wait and see. Goodnight."

  He stepped back quickly, signalling her driver to start, so that she was unable to ask him any more.

  All the way home Dorina was puzzling about his strange words and even stranger manner.

  'He's normally such a businesslike man,' she thought. 'Suddenly he seems to have taken off on a flight of fancy. I wonder what he's keeping up his sleeve.'

  The exhilaration of the day stayed with her until she had gone to bed. But then, in the darkness and silence, she remembered the Earl and the feel of his kisses came back to her.

  'How is it possible,' she asked herself, 'that a kiss could be so wonderful that, in some strange way, I can still feel in my heart what I felt at that moment?

  'Where is he now? What is he doing? Is he thinking of me?'

  As she shut her eyes and tried to go to sleep, she felt that her heart was breaking.

  'There is no way back for me now,' she thought. 'I should have stayed in London. I love him, I love him. If he wanted me, I would still be prepared to go on being his secretary.'

  But then she knew that was not true.

  She had to keep faith with the people who relied on her.

  She wanted to show her father, if he was watching, that she could be as good as any son he might have had.

  'That is my duty in the future,' she thought. 'If I am lonely then I can merely cry at night as I am crying now, because I have known love and lost it.'

  On that thought she fell asleep.

  *

  Next morning she dressed in clothes that were severe but fashionable. All the way to the factory she was remembering Mr. Johnson's strange excitement, and wondering what it meant.

  The great workshop was festive. Down one wall were long tables set with food and wine.

  In the centre of the floor stood the horseless carriage, surrounded by a rope barrier. Four men, one at each corner, were on guard to prevent spectators from coming too close.

  "Are we ready to start?" she asked Mr. Johnson.

  "Not quite," he said. "There'll need to be a small delay while we wait for the guest of honour."

  If anything, Mr. Johnson's excitement was even more pronounced than ever.

  "But who is the guest of honour? You never mentioned him before."

  "That is because I wasn't sure he would come. Even now I won't believe it until I see him coming through that door, although I was sent a most encouraging message – "

  "Mr. Johnson," Dorina said patiently. "Who are you talking about?"

  "Why, the Prince of Wales, of course," he said in a hushed voice.

  "You cannot mean that."

  "But of course. It is well known that the Prince is avid to own the first horseless carriage. And when he buys one, the whole of society will follow."

  "But he surely cannot mean to come here?"

  "He is currently paying a visit to the Marquis of Glandon, who lives only five miles from here. I sent a message to Glandon Towers, inviting the Prince to a special presentation.

  "I knew there was only a faint chance that he would accept such a late invitation, but it was a risk worth taking. And I've had a message in return to say that he will come 'if possible'."

  Dorina stared.

  "Are you serious?"

  "Absolutely, I swear it. I didn't say anything before because I didn't think it would happen. He still might not arrive, but suppose he did – "

  "Mr. Johnson you are a genius," Dorina said, awed. "If the Prince buys one of our vehicles we will lead the revolution."

  She stopped as a thought came to her.

  "And if he doesn't buy one, we'll give him one. As long as we can tell people that he possesses a Radford horseless carriage, that's all that necessary. The newspapers will talk about it and we'll be established as the leaders in this field."

  It was Mr. Johnson's turn to be awed.

  "That is brilliant," he said. "I can see you have a natural talent for this business, Miss Radford."

  "And even if the Prince doesn't come, we can still make him the gift," she mused. "Of course, it would be better if he did come. Do we have any newspapers here, by the way?"

  "Oh yes, several. In some cases the editor himself has insisted on being present. This is a big moment, and nobody wants to miss it."

  "But they don't know about the Prince?"

  "Oh no. I've kept that possibility a secret, because if he doesn't arrive we would look foolish."

  "But how can we begin? Protocol dictates that nothing starts until royalty has arrived, but if we don't know when, or if, he's coming – "

  "I think things are already happening, whether we're ready or not," Mr Johnson said, eyeing the throng that was growing every moment. "The customers, the reporters, they're all hanging around the carriage, each one trying to sneak a better look than his neighbours."

  "Then we must go and talk to them, and His Royal Highness must take his chances," Dorina said firmly.

  Things could not be going better, but there was a little ache in her heart that she knew she must suppress.

  With her head high, Dorina made a stately entrance, knowing that all eyes were upon her. Today was the day she would honour dear Papa, and make him proud of her.

  She spoke little, leaving most of the talking to the designers and engineers who knew all the technical details. She understood that her presence was partly symbolic. She was the sign that Radford's would go on and she made a good talking point for the reporters.

  A group of them converged on her, begging for some kind of statem
ent. She replied by stressing her father's achievements and how proud he would be on this day.

  Suddenly a buzz went round the crowd. There was a commotion at the entrance, the great double doors were pulled back wide enough to allow a coach and horses to be driven through.

  "He's here," Mr. Johnson hissed in her ear.

  The next moment a cheer went up as everyone in the crowd recognised the Prince of Wales.

  He descended from the carriage, followed by his host, the Marquis of Glandon, and various other followers.