Love Is the Reason For Living

by Barbara Cartland

  It was his butler.

  “Sir Edward, the carriage is ready to take Lady Novella back to her home. When shall I have it brought round to the front of the house?”

  “Bring the carriage round in fifteen minutes,” ordered Sir Edward.

  Novella could see that he was flustered. She wondered what it was that the butler had interrupted.

  “But you were saying something,” she ventured, as she arose from the table.

  “It is of no great importance. We can discuss the matter another time – it will keep. Come, I should not detain you. Your mother will be needing you.”

  Novella returned to her room and was at a loss as to what to think.

  ‘What was he trying to say to me?’ she said again to herself. ‘Although he said it was of no importance, he seemed terribly put out that the butler came crashing in at the wrong moment.’

  It crossed her mind that he might have been about to ask her to marry him. But she immediately dismissed the notion as fanciful.

  ‘I should not begin to imagine that he cares for me as much as I do him,’ she thought, as she waited for someone to come and fetch her bag. ‘Besides, I have other more pressing matters. Romance and love will have to wait!’

  It was a very reluctant Novella who climbed into the carriage. She did not want to leave but, on the other hand, she was desperate to see her mother.

  “You must come again at any time you wish,” offered Sir Edward, as he closed the door behind her. “Please view Tithehurst as a refuge whenever you need one.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so very much,” breathed Novella, leaning out of the carriage window.

  “It was my pleasure,” he said, reaching out to grasp her fingers.

  The carriage started off and still Sir Edward held the tips of her fingers in his.

  “I shall call at the Hall very soon, you may be assured of that,” he added, a strange look on his face. “Farewell for now.”

  Novella was close to tears as the carriage made its way down the short drive to the gates. She noticed that Sir Edward walked behind until they had passed through.

  “I love him so much!” she cried aloud, not caring if the coach driver heard her.

  ‘But it is simply the wrong time for me to become involved with anyone. I have no idea if he feels the same for me.”

  In turmoil, she spent the rest of the journey back to Crownley Hall in a state of profound anxiety.

  *

  Novella felt extremely nervous as the carriage pulled up to the front door of Crownley Hall. While the coach driver unloaded her one bag, the door flew open and Mrs. Armitage came running out.

  “My Lady. There you are!”

  “Oh, Heavens, Mama, she’s not – ”

  “No my Lady. The nurse has arrived – about fifteen minutes ago. She is with the Countess now.”

  “What kind of woman is she?”

  “Quiet and gentle, my Lady. I think you will be happy with her.”

  Novella did not hesitate and ran straight upstairs to her mother’s room.

  Inside, a tall, graceful woman with blonde hair and a pleasant expression was by her bedside.

  “You must be Lady Novella,” she said, as she wiped the Countess’s brow.

  “Yes, I am, and you are –?”

  “Nurse Shanks. I was sent by the agency, my Lady, and just in time. Your Mother is gravely ill.”

  “How ill?”

  “I think it will not be long,” she whispered, “perhaps a few days, a week or so at most.”

  Tears sprang into Novella’s eyes.

  “Thank you, nurse,” she replied, staggering away.

  ‘Mama. Oh, Mama,’ she cried, as she went back downstairs. ‘I cannot believe the time has come.’

  As she stood in the hallway, pondering whether or not she wanted to send for Sir Edward, she suddenly heard voices coming from the library.

  Tiptoeing towards the door, the sound became louder – and she heard a merry peal of laughter along with the unmistakeable boom of her stepfather’s voice.

  ‘Perhaps he has a visitor. Although that would be most strange at this particular time,’ she thought.

  She stood there for a few moments and could clearly discern that it was a woman’s voice that she heard as well as Lord Buckton’s.

  ‘I cannot just stand here, I have to investigate.’

  Opening the door, nothing could have prepared her for what she found.

  “Ah, Novella – ” said her stepfather, in a supercilious tone, ‘you have deigned to come home at last.”

  Novella’s eyes nearly popped out as she saw a tall overdressed woman in a frothy, pink concoction sitting on the sofa. On her head was a feather so large it could have swept the ceiling, while the face beneath bore the marks of rouge.

  Horrified, Novella could only stand and stare.

  Recovering her senses, she asked in a calm tone,

  “So are you not going to introduce me to your visitor, Lord Buckton?”

  Her stepfather looked slightly uncomfortable, coughed and then mumbled,

  “Novella, this is Mrs. Emma Byesouth. She is a famous actress and acquaintance of mine from London. Our own dear Queen has said that her Lady Macbeth is the best in the world. She has come to stay with us.”

  Novella could not believe her ears. Had her stepfather taken leave of his senses and all notion of propriety, by bringing his mistress into the house while her Mama was upstairs dying?

  She choked back a sob and hurriedly left the library.

  “Well, she’s a fine sort!” she heard Mrs. Byesouth comment as she ran upstairs.

  ‘I cannot believe how he can be so heartless,’ sobbed Novella, opening her bedroom door, ‘how can he be so cruel?’

  Tears ran down her face and onto her blue silk dress, staining it with dark splotches.

  It was then that the full realisation hit her.

  ‘If he seeks to replace Mama before she has died, what will he do to me?’

  Never had she felt so alone as she closed the door behind her –

  CHAPTER NINE

  After a while, Novella pulled herself together and dried her tears. She recognised that she would not be helping her mother by lying on her bed weeping.

  Splashing her face with cold water, she reflected upon her current situation.

  Now, instead of feeling hopeless, she felt angry again with her stepfather.

  ‘I must carry on in spite of his dreadful behaviour,’ she resolved, walking towards her mother’s room, ‘the least I can do is ensure that Mama has the best of everything while she still draws breath.’

  The oil lamp was burning bright as Novella opened the door. Nurse Shanks looked up from her book and moved to rise.

  “How is Mama?”

  “Very weak, Lady Novella.”

  “Do – do you think she will last the night?”

  Nurse Shanks looked at Novella with a pained expression.

  “I am not at all sure, my Lady. It might be for the best if you were to remain here all night.”

  “Then that is just what I shall do,” agreed Novella firmly, as she sank down into a small bedroom chair.

  It was soon eleven o’clock and Novella found it difficult to keep awake. So exhausted was she by the past few days that her eyes felt heavy as lead. In fact, since she had returned to Crownley Hall, life had been incredibly hard for her.

  ‘Sometimes I miss the routine of school,’ she thought, as she watched her mother’s laboured breathing.

  There were times when the Countess would appear to cease exhaling and Novella would jump to her feet anxiously, only for her mother’s chest to begin to rise and fall once more.

  At around midnight, she clearly heard the sound of giggling out on the landing.

  Nurse Shanks looked questioningly at her but, too embarrassed to meet the woman’s eye, Novella turned her face away – her cheeks hot and flushed.

  ‘This is really too much,’ she seethed, not wishing to dwell on whether
or not her stepfather and Mrs. Byesouth would occupy separate rooms. ‘What on earth must Nurse Shanks think? Probably that she has come into a house of loose morals!’

  Long hours passed and she soon fell asleep where she was sitting.

  It felt as if she had been asleep no time at all when Nurse Shanks was shaking her awake.

  “My Lady, wake up!”

  “What is it?” asked Novella sleepily, as she pulled herself upright in the chair.

  “Your mother is growing ever worse. I think that the time has come for you to call her husband to her bedside.”

  “Mama!” cried Novella, with a little choke.

  “Ssh! She is in and out of consciousness, my Lady, and can hear you.”

  Novella arose and went to her mother’s side. The Countess was grey in the face and her breath was coming in short bursts.

  “My Lady, I urge you – ”

  Novella quickly made her way from the bedside and out into the hallway. She did not like having to disturb her stepfather, but she knew that she should at least give him the opportunity to redeem himself.

  She felt sick at the thought that Mrs. Byesouth might be in her stepfather’s room, but she forced herself to knock on the door.

  But no reply came.

  Knocking again, Novella stood back from the doorway and listened.

  ‘Oh, drat,’ she said to herself, but her heart urged her on. Dreadful as he was, surely he would still have some vestige of feeling for her Mama?

  Steeling herself this time, Novella pounded on the door even harder.

  “Lord Buckton,” she screamed, “it is Mama! You must come at once.”

  This time, she heard a noise and then her stepfather opened the door just a crack, looking dishevelled.

  “What is it?” he snapped, “have you no sense of what hour it is?”

  “I am sorry, but Mama is dying. Please come to her room.”

  “Go away, Novella, I am tired. Your mother is probably feigning another one of her ‘attacks’. Now, please go and do not bother me again.”

  “But, Lord Buckton! She is your wife.”

  Her stepfather’s eyes bulged as he sneered through the doorway at her,

  “Not for much longer, if you are right.”

  Then he slammed the door shut.

  “You vile, heartless man!” she shouted, hammering on the door once again.

  “Come out! Your wife is dying, sir, do you have no feelings?”

  But it was in vain. Novella stood there, rapping until her knuckles were raw, but still Lord Buckton did not appear.

  Defeated, she walked slowly back to the Countess’s room.

  But as she entered, the sight that greeted her eyes forced her to cry aloud, her very heart broken in two.

  “No! Mama!”

  For as she walked through the door, she saw that Nurse Shanks was covering her mother’s face with a sheet.

  “No! No!” cried Novella, sobbing.

  “I am so sorry my Lady – but I did not know where Lord Buckton’s room was, so I could not come and fetch you. It was very quick and peaceful. She just sighed and went.”

  Novella was on her knees by her mother’s bedside, holding on to that dear hand for the last time.

  “Oh, Mama!” she wailed, tears streaming down her face. “You have gone and I was not here with you.”

  “My Lady, please do not blame yourself. Neither of us could have foreseen what time she would go,” soothed the nurse.

  “But to die without my being here! I was not there when Papa left us and it is like history repeating itself. I am a terrible, terrible daughter! I should not have left.”

  Retiring discreetly, the nurse left Novella alone with her mother.

  ‘At least you are now with dear Papa,’ whispered Novella, as she uncovered the Countess’s face for a final goodbye. ‘You are together, reunited in Heaven. Oh, that sounds like bliss!’

  For a single moment, Novella almost envied her mother and wished that she could go with her.

  ‘But I must go on,’ she urged herself resolutely, ‘Crownley Hall needs me.’

  *

  As soon as morning broke, there was much activity in the Hall. After Nurse Shanks had alerted Mrs. Armitage, first Lily and then Charles got up in the cold and the dark.

  Charles saddled up Salamander and with Novella’s permission, rode as fast as he could to Doctor Jones.

  Novella stayed in her mother’s room until the doctor arrived.

  As she waited, she thought constantly of Sir Edward. Should she send word to him? But, no, she decided. It was best left alone.

  ‘Who will care for me now?’ she asked, as she looked at her mother’s peaceful face. ‘I am now all alone in the world.’

  She thought of Sir Edward’s expression as they had parted on the previous day and something, deep down, told her that she was not on her own.

  Even so, she refused to believe it.

  ‘I should not begin to rely upon him,’ she thought, as she heard the sound of a carriage pulling up outside, ‘that would be most unwise.’

  Equally she found it hard to forget about him.

  Rushing to the window, she saw Charles dismounting from Salamander and then helping Doctor Jones out of his carriage.

  Doctor Jones had a very distressed air as he walked into the hallway of Crownley Hall.

  “It seems like only yesterday I was here to attend to your dear Papa.” he said, as he allowed Novella to lead him upstairs to where the Countess was lying.

  “I shall let you proceed unhindered,” said Novella, as she opened the bedroom door for him.

  “Then I will do what is necessary and I shall leave the certificate with Mrs. Armitage, if that is acceptable?”

  “Yes, please do.”

  As she walked along the landing, she saw her stepfather standing down in the hallway. He was wearing his outdoor clothes and had obviously just arrived back home. Novella was unaware that he had left Crownley Hall and thought that he must have taken Mrs. Byesouth to the station very early that morning without anyone noticing.

  ‘The cheek of the man,’ she scowled, as she glared at him.

  Catching sight of her, Lord Buckton came towards her up the stairs.

  “Well?” he said, no hint of emotion on his face.

  “Mama died this morning, sir,” she replied, stiffly.

  “More expense,” he answered, with a shrug of his shoulders.

  It was more than Novella could bear. She was so tired she could hardly stand and so very full of anger at his behaviour.

  She flew at him, her fists pummelling his dirt-stained riding habit.

  “You beast! You are not fit to set foot inside Crownley Hall, let alone take it over as if it was your own. Mama died but a few hours ago and all you can think of is how much money her funeral will cost! Do you have no finer feelings? How dare you! How dare you!”

  But Lord Buckton simply looked at Novella and laughed.

  “Control yourself, my dear,” he said, dismissively, “you are now a very rich young woman, isn’t that enough for you?”

  “For you it is always about money. You are an excuse for a human being. You deceived Mama into marrying you in the hope of receiving a fortune – well, I can tell you, Lord Buckton, that neither Crownley Hall nor Mama’s money will come to you! Papa left a will stating that everything comes to me. Do you hear?”

  Never before had Novella behaved in such a fashion – her eyes were flashing and her voice was loud and firm.

  In the midst of all this, Mrs. Byesouth appeared at the top of the staircase – she had not left the house and looked as if she had only just dressed herself.

  “And as for you bringing this – this immoral character into the house. Words defy me! You have defiled Mama’s memory by behaving in an improper fashion with her.

  “And you, Mrs. Byesouth, you have no shame if you are happy to jump into a dead woman’s shoes, before she is even cold.”

  Mrs. Byesouth reddened and looked
as if she wished the ground would swallow her up.

  Trying to maintain as dignified a stance as was possible given the circumstances, she pulled herself up to her full height and quietly said,

  “I think it would be best if I left,” before turning round and going back upstairs.

  That was all Lord Buckton required to provoke one of his rages.

  He spun round on his heel and slapped Novella hard around the face. She gulped as she reeled from both the blow and the shock.

  “Are you happy with yourself now?” he shouted, “you have grossly insulted Mrs. Byesouth.”

  “And you are callous and heartless,” retorted Novella, holding her face. She tried not to cry, even though the blow had brought tears to her eyes. She did all she could not let him see how hurt she was.

  Lord Buckton lowered his voice to almost a whisper,

  “Get back upstairs and I will deal with you later.”

  Novella began to shake – he was far more terrifying when he was quietly threatening than when he shouted at her.

  “Anything to not be in your vile presence!” she replied, defiantly tossing back her head. She was trying hard not to show how very shaken she was by his blow. If he saw how upset she was – then he would have won.

  Closing her bedroom door, she let herself cry. Hot tears splashed down her face as she undressed and then lay on the bed. Sobbing into the pillow, the full weight of her grief overtook her.

  ‘Oh, Mama. I miss you so much already. I feel as if I cannot bear to be in this house while that awful man is here. But what choice do I have? I am so alone – who is there to take care of me now?’

  As she cried herself to sleep, Novella knew that there was someone who cared for her – if only she dared to believe it to be true –

  *

  A few hours later, Novella awoke. Lily had been in and left her a luncheon tray on the dressing table with a cold-beef sandwich and a glass of milk.

  Novella looked at it sleepily and felt sick at the thought of food in her stomach. She could not face the milk.

  ‘I would like something less cloying,’ she thought, rising, her mouth so dry her tongue was almost sticking to it. ‘I will go and see what else Mrs. Armitage has in the pantry – I also should like to see the death certificate that Doctor Jones left earlier.’

  So it was with some surprise that Novella descended the stairs just in time to see a small party of men being led into the library. In her sleepy state, she wondered who they might be.