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Love Is the Reason For Living

Page 12

by Barbara Cartland


  “Many condolences, my Lady” said a tall gentleman wearing a top hat. “She was a fine lady.”

  Novella looked blankly at the stranger.

  “I am sorry, have we met before? I do apologise if so, but understandably, I am not quite myself.”

  “No, my Lady, I have not had that pleasure. But it is a fine house you have here. Well worth the asking price.”

  Novella stared at him in horror.

  “I do beg your pardon?” she said, but the man had disappeared to catch up the rest of the group.

  Just then, Mrs. Armitage appeared.

  “Ah, my Lady,” she began.

  “Mrs. Armitage,” interrupted Novella, “who are these strange people wandering around? Surely they have not come to see Mama’s lying in?”

  “Oh, no, my Lady. That would not be possible at any rate, seeing as how her Ladyship’s body has already been taken to the undertakers.”

  “But – but, how can that be when we have not had the lying in? People from the estate and the village will want to say goodbye to her.”

  “Sorry, my Lady. Lord Buckton ordered it. He thought it best if people went there rather than troop around the Hall disturbing us all.”

  Novella was dumbstruck. Did her wishes count for nothing?

  She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge for some fresh air. The day was a fine one and it seemed as if being inside the walls of the Hall was becoming oppressive to her.

  Walking out onto the drive, Novella saw Charles coming towards her. She noted, with tenderness, that he was already wearing a black armband.

  “My Lady,” he said in a shaky voice, “her Ladyship is in Heaven now at last with his Lordship.”

  “That is true, Charles, and I am deeply touched by your grief.”

  “Well, I was with her Ladyship for many years, my Lady. Grew up working for ’er.”

  “How is Salamander?”

  “He knows summat is up, does the old boy. Sensitive creatures – horses.”

  “I would dearly like to see him, is he in his stable?”

  “Yes, my Lady.”

  “Then let us go and visit him.”

  Novella thought that stroking Salamander’s silky mane and feeling his warmth would make her feel better. Her step felt lighter as she entered the stables.

  Sensing that she was near, Salamander let out a whinny of delight.

  “Salamander, darling!” she cried, running to him and throwing her arms around his neck.

  As she petted him, she could not help but cry.

  “I feel as if you are my only friend,” she whispered, hugging his neck.

  But no sooner had she spoke, than she thought of Sir Edward and the offer he had made to her of his house always being available to her as a sanctuary.

  Without thinking twice, she called to Charles,

  “Charles. Saddle up Salamander for me.”

  “But you are not wearing your riding habit.”

  “I don’t care. Please make him ready for me.”

  It did not take Charles long to saddle up Salamander and, without a backward glance, Novella mounted him and rode off.

  ‘I need to be away from the Hall – never before have I felt a stranger in my own home,’ she thought, as she rode off into the warm afternoon sunshine towards Tithehurst.

  *

  By the time she arrived, she was crying and her hair was flowing loose around her shoulders.

  Sir Edward was about to go out and was climbing into his carriage when Novella rode through the gates looking dishevelled.

  “Novella!” he shouted, running towards her, “what on earth –?”

  “Oh, Edward,” she sobbed, almost fainting whilst still seated on Salamander.

  “Quick! You, ostler, take the horse and I will see to her Ladyship.”

  In a second, Sir Edward had carried Novella, still in a swoon, from her horse and had brought her inside the house.

  “Mama – she is dead!” sobbed Novella, as she clung to his neck.

  “Coachman, take the carriage back to the stables. I am no longer going out.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Inside the house, Sir Edward carried Novella into the airy drawing room and laid her down on the sofa.

  “Now, I want to know everything that has happened,” coaxed Sir Edward, pouring a small glass of brandy.

  And so, Novella told him the whole sorry tale – from discovering Mrs. Byesouth in the Hall to the awful gangs of people picking over the Hall.

  “But that is dreadful!” exclaimed Sir Edward, when she admitted that Lord Buckton had struck her. “The man is worse than an animal.”

  “I may have provoked him, but Edward, I was so angry. Mama not yet cold and already he has his fancy woman installed and people milling around the Hall for Heaven knows what reason.”

  “You must stay here tonight, of course. I meant what I said that you must treat this house as your place of retreat.”

  Novella looked up him, gratefully.

  “I cannot tell you how much that means to me.”

  There was a long silence as their eyes met and Novella was suddenly filled with a strange emotion. Looking away, she sipped at the brandy and wrapped herself in the blanket. Although it was warm outside, she was shivering from shock and exhaustion.

  “Who is arranging the funeral?” asked Sir Edward, after a while.

  “I should suppose that would be my responsibility,” sighed Novella, “I cannot see that my stepfather would be bothered.”

  “Then you must allow me to help, of course.”

  “That would be wonderful,” she replied, her heart swelling with emotion.

  “And you will need to visit your solicitors, naturally.”

  “Yes, you are right. If, as I believe, my stepfather is attempting to sell the Hall out from beneath me, I will need to make sure that does not happen.”

  “We should try and see them as soon as possible. Do you feel capable of making the trip today? There are still a few hours left before their office shuts.”

  Novella looked down at her dress in dismay. It was rumpled and stained from her journey on Salamander.

  “I should not say this, but you look so beautiful,” Sir Edward murmured, taking her by the hand and leading her outside.

  ‘Could he have feelings for me?’ thought Novella as they sat close in the carriage. ‘Perhaps he is trying to be of comfort and does not have any romantic inclinations towards me.’

  All the way into Stockington he held on to her hand causing Novella to become increasingly emotional. She was uncertain if it was just a matter of her feelings running riot due to her recent bereavement or whether there was more to it?

  Sir Edward guided her through the awful experience of the undertakers – Novella found it very difficult when she came to view her beloved Mama’s body – and then, with the details of the funeral settled, they proceeded to the offices of Rumbold and Humbert.

  Mr. Humbert Senior was in court that day, so Mr. Rumbold attended her.

  He opened up the vast sheet of parchment in front of him.

  “As soon as I heard the news this morning about your mother, I made ready with the necessary documentation. As I believe my colleague, Mr. Humbert Senior has told you, everything now comes to you in spite of the Countess’s recent marriage.”

  “Is that not contrary to the law of the land?” put in Sir Edward.

  “It is a most unusual case, Sir Edward, and a very interesting one. However, the Earl was very thorough with his original will and although usually a woman gives up her rights to her property upon marriage, there was a special dispensation on this particular occasion.”

  “So Lady Novella will inherit everything?”

  “Indeed she will.”

  “I believe that my stepfather is currently trying to sell the Hall,” announced Novella, wearily.

  “It is not his to sell, my Lady,” replied Mr Rumbold. “However, I am afraid that we are already in receipt of a letter from Lord Buckton�
��s solicitor contesting your late father’s will.”

  “Already,” exclaimed Novella, alarmed, “but Mama only died this morning. He must have put this into motion some weeks ago. This is outrageous!”

  “I would tend to agree with you, my Lady. But in my long years in this profession, I have seen this kind of thing before. Greed is a great motivator. He has also sought to gain access to your bank account – there is a letter about that as well.”

  “I expected as much. Mr. Longridge had warned me.”

  “Tell me, my Lady, as you are so worried about what your stepfather may do next, have you had the opportunity to check in the secret place for her Ladyship’s jewels?”

  “Secret place?” asked Novella, her eyes widening.

  “Yes, your father was a wise man – he was also mindful of the fact that your mother would often be left alone in the house overnight. He was worried that thieves would take advantage of his frequent absences and would rob her. So, he commissioned a craftsman to build a secret place in her bed for her valuables. I believe that both you and your father had identical beds?”

  “Yes, they are very ornate with lots of carvings,” replied Novella, growing more excited by the second. “I loved the fact that I had one just like theirs – especially when I small. I was so relieved when I returned to Crownley Hall to find that my bed had been moved to my new room.”

  “Ah, yes. Your stepfather took over your old room, did he not?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Oh, village gossip, my Lady.”

  Novella was shocked. Once more she was mortified that her stepfather had made the family the subject of tittle-tattle, and it made her utterly embarrassed to be associated with him.

  “In any eventuality, my Lady, you should search in the carvings above the bed. There you will find a catch and inside a secret compartment holding your mother’s valuables.”

  “I had thought that my stepfather had sold them all off.”

  “Some things may have indeed been sold, but I would wager that there will be a great deal left for you.”

  As it was growing late, Novella thanked the gentleman and rose to leave. Sir Edward jumped up from his seat and took her arm in his.

  “Good luck Lady Novella and remember the law is on your side,” said Mr. Rumbold as she left the office.

  “Oh, I am so relieved,” she cried, as they climbed back into Sir Edward’s carriage, “and what exciting news about the hiding place!”

  “But you are not planning on returning back to Crownley Hall tonight, surely?” asked Sir Edward, a worried look marring his handsome features.

  “I had not thought to stay at Tithehurst – ” replied Novella, her eyes cast downwards modestly.

  “I insist. You cannot go home this evening and face your stepfather. Novella, you have endured more than most and you need a respite from your trauma. Going back tonight will only make you unhappy. Return tomorrow after a refreshing night’s sleep. I am sure that Jean-Charles will provide us with a delicious dinner – that is, if you are hungry?”

  “I was not earlier today but do you know, I am now famished,” exclaimed Novella, cheering up immensely.

  And with that, she looked into Sir Edward’s eyes and saw that his expression was so tender that it quite took her breath away.

  *

  Novella was treated as a special guest that evening.

  Feeling refreshed, Novella walked slowly downstairs to dinner.

  Sir Edward was waiting for her in the dining room and they enjoyed a wonderful meal together.

  Jean-Charles excelled himself, serving a wonderful bisque d’ homard, followed by veal cutlets in the French style. Pudding was a chartreuse of strawberries.

  “That was delicious. Jean-Charles is a superb cook and I am most envious,” sighed Novella, pleasantly full.

  “I am very lucky, I agree,” said Sir Edward, “now let us retire to the drawing room for coffee and brandy.”

  Taking Novella’s arm, the pair walked the short distance to the adjoining room. The atmosphere was so calm – so unlike that of Crownley Hall.

  For Novella, the Hall had become less of a home with each day that Lord Buckton inhabited it.

  Sir Edward’s butler brought in the brandy and they sat in opposite chairs by the fireplace.

  “What will you do, Novella? You are welcome to stay as long as you like at Tithehurst, but you will have to go home eventually.”

  Novella hung her head and she could feel the tears pricking her eyes at the very thought.

  “I do not know, Edward. The Hall is not a home to me at present but I have such strong ties to it. My main problem lies in trying to get Lord Buckton out.”

  She could not contain herself. The thought of such a task filled her with dismay and made her feel quite helpless.

  Hot tears ran down her cheeks and into her glass of brandy.

  “Novella, dearest,” urged Sir Edward, leaving his chair and kneeling at her feet. “Please do not upset yourself.”

  “I am sorry, it is just that I feel so alone and I do not know what will become of me and Crownley Hall. It is such a huge responsibility – I am not sure I can cope with it.”

  “But you are not alone, Novella, you have friends around you who care very deeply for you.”

  “It does not feel that way.”

  “Then, look in front of your eyes. Oh, Novella! I cannot keep my feelings to myself a moment longer.”

  Taking her hand gently in his, Sir Edward kissed it tenderly before continuing,

  “I realise that this may not be the best possible time to speak of such things, but you must know that there is someone who would lay down his life for you.”

  Looking up into his eyes, Novella could hardly believe her ears. Her heart beat so fast that she could not breathe and she waited for his next words.

  “Yes, Novella, I have loved you from the very first moment I set eyes upon you.”

  “Oh, Edward.” breathed Novella, as he rose and took her into his arms.

  “It is true. I speak my heart to you now. God is my witness. I cannot bear to see you in such distress so even though I know my timing is dreadful, I need you to know that you are not alone. I love you, I love you. And I want you to know it now!”

  “Edward,” she murmured, her eyes closing in ecstasy.

  Sir Edward leaned towards her, kissing first her hair and then her eyes and lastly, her lips.

  ‘I am so happy I swear I will burst,’ thought Novella, as she emerged from a long and tender kiss.

  “Darling,” continued Sir Edward, holding her tight and showering her with tiny kisses, “you need never fear again for I am here beside you to be your rock, your strength.

  “Do not worry about Lord Buckton, for together we will outwit him and claim Crownley Hall as yours and yours alone. I love you and want to marry you.”

  Novella gasped, her heart bursting with the love that comes only from above.

  The world seemed to stand still as she nestled into his arms, safe and free from harm.

  “Dearest Edward,” she whispered, feeling the warmth of him against her cheek.

  “Novella, dearest love, would you, once your period of mourning is over, consider becoming my wife?”

  Sir Edward looked deep into her eyes and waited for her answer –

  CHAPTER TEN

  Novella looked at Sir Edward – her head reeling from what she had just heard him say.

  She desperately wanted to answer him, but no sound came out of her mouth.

  With so many mixed emotions taking hold of her, she did not know how to reply.

  Sir Edward, sensing her discomfiture, pulled back from her.

  His face fell and his eyes looked wistful as he said,

  “I do not expect your answer now – I have been a trifle hasty. I can see that.”

  Novella suddenly feared that she would lose him and everything that was good and hopeful in her life.

  Grasping his shoulders, she looked up
at him, her eyes full of love and sincerity.

  “No, no!” she cried, feeling that happiness was about to slip from her fingers, “I love you too. I will become your wife. No matter what happens, this I promise you!”

  Almost bursting with joy, she felt Sir Edward’s arms enfold her as he drew her close once more and kissed her tenderly on the lips.

  Novella now knew what it was to love and be loved and it filled her mind, her body and her soul with such ecstasy that she felt as if she was touching Heaven itself.

  “Darling, what will you do now?” asked Sir Edward as they stood in an embrace by the fireplace.

  “I should like to stay here tonight, but I am afraid I simply must return to the Hall tomorrow morning. I do not trust my stepfather one inch.”

  “You must allow me to accompany you.”

  “No, I have to do this on my own. I can send word for you if I need you. But there are family matters that need to be settled and it would not be right for you to witness them.”

  “Novella, my precious, I understand, but equally you must know that I am beside you every step of the way.”

  “And I thank you for that, Edward, my dearest. But my stepfather’s temper is short at the best of times and I do not wish you to become involved.”

  “Novella, whatever problems you have are mine too,” he pleaded.

  Novella looked up at him, his beautiful eyes so full of love for her – could she have imagined a finer man as her fiancé?

  “Edward, I have wanted to say that I loved you for a long time,” she confessed, nestling in his arms, so safe and secure.

  “I could not read what you were thinking,” replied Sir Edward, “you seemed so distant at times and you are so young too. Lord Buckton is a strong-willed man. I am surprised that he did not have a suitable match ready for you.”

  “No, I was worth more to him unmarried,” responded Novella bitterly, “he has the notion that he will be able to get his hands on my money now that Mama has died. He would not want to risk a rival for the inheritance entering the picture.”

  “Novella, there is something else I wish to say to you that is most important,” said Sir Edward, leading her back to her fireside chair.

 

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