He drove on very quickly without being in the least dangerous.
It was a long way to London, but not as far as they had come from Forde Hall and so Kayla settled herself a little more comfortably into the seat and watched the countryside pass by.
Once again she was seeing the glory of England and, despite everything that had just happened to her, it was even more beautiful than she imagined it would be.
There were rivers, hills, woods and gardens full of flowers.
Then, as they drove on further, there was more traffic as they reached the outskirts of London.
They had been driving for over two hours and not a word had passed between them.
She glanced at Christopher again.
He was still looking angry and she wanted to explain the whole scenario to him, but she realised that there was nothing she could really say that could help.
Her mother had been on the stage at times – granted it was as a singer and not as an actress.
But the mere fact that people could pay to see her perform was, as Kayla well knew, utterly unacceptable.
She thought how sweet and loving her mother had always been and it was so wrong and unfair that she should be condemned, especially by two men who had never had to earn their own living and they had never known what it was to be very poor.
Then she remembered her mother’s Scottish blood. She came from the Stewarts, who were descended from the Kings of Scotland.
Whatever she had done, it was nothing to be ashamed of.
Kayla felt her pride move within her.
She told herself that she would not humble herself to anyone, least of all to her aggressive grandfather, who had just tricked someone whose blue blood equalled his own.
‘I will not dishonour my blood,’ Kayla decided, ‘and, if Christopher does not accept the fact that my mother was completely different from the type of women he has been associating with in Paris, there is nothing I can do about it.’
She felt her chin come up and her back stiffen.
‘I am half a Scot,’ she told herself, ‘and if I have to fight I will most certainly do so.’
They drove on rapidly for another half-an-hour until they were in the centre of London.
Finally, Christopher turned into Park Lane and drew up outside a large and magnificent house.
Kayla saw the front door open and two footmen ran a red carpet down the steps.
Another footman pulled open the door of the chaise and Kayla stepped out.
As she did so, she was aware that Christopher, having handed the reins to the groom, was coming round the chaise towards her. She walked with him in through the front door.
The butler bowed and addressed Christopher,
“It’s good to have your Lordship back again. Tea’s ready in the drawing room.”
Christopher handed his hat and gloves to a footman.
He still did not say anything and Kayla then followed the butler into a room at the other end of the hall.
It was an attractive sitting room beautifully furnished with windows looking out onto a garden at the back of the house.
There was a tea table covered with silver and food in front of the sofa.
Kayla was just about to sit down, as she thought that she would be expected to pour out the tea.
Then she realised that Christopher was standing in the middle of the room looking at her.
Kayla turned to look at him.
She had not heard his voice since they had left his home and now she felt that he was scrutinising her.
Doubtless he was thinking she looked strange with a cape covering her wedding gown.
Instinctively her chin rose a little and she looked up at him.
Then, after what seemed a long silence, he said,
“I am leaving England tomorrow for India and then on to Nepal and Katmandu and I have quite a number of things to do before I go. Are you coming with me or do you wish to stay here?”
Kayla gave a little gasp.
“If – you are going abroad,” she stammered, “then – of course – I want to come with you.”
Her voice sounded rather frightened even to herself.
“Very well,” Christopher responded. “I will make the arrangements, but I may be late for dinner, so don’t wait for me.”
He spoke in a hard and impersonal manner, almost, Kayla thought, as if he was addressing a servant.
Saying no more, he walked from the room closing the door behind him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kayla ate her tea solemnly by herself.
Strangely enough she was feeling hungry even though she was so agitated.
It certainly made things worse than they were already that Christopher was not speaking to her.
‘Very soon I shall become dumb myself,’ she thought desperately.
She looked round the room and, as there appeared to be no servants about, she inspected some of the other rooms.
It was a magnificent house with a flower-filled garden at the back stretching down to a mews.
As she had nothing else to do, Kayla thought that she would lie down before dinner, as she would need her wits about her if she was to cope with the Viscount she had just married.
She went upstairs to find that the maid had not begun to unpack her trunks, as she had been informed that they were leaving the next day.
“We didn’t know what you’d want, my Lady,” the maid said as she curtsied. “My name is Harriet.”
“I am so sorry – I did not think of it before, Harriet.” Kayla then thought quickly what she should take with her.
One item she would leave behind was the trunk of terrible gowns her grandfather had bought for her, so she told Harriet that they were fancy dress and were not to be opened, but stored away somewhere.
“I brought them with me,” she lied, “because no one else wanted them.”
That at least was true.
Then Harriet packed everything for her she thought she would need.
There were some clothes she had worn at school to which she added several pretty gowns that had belonged to her mother. Two were somewhat elaborate because she had worn them on the stage, but they were also in extremely good taste and came from one of the best couturiers in Paris.
The overwhelming hats were left in the hat-box to be stored as well and Kayla put her own hat into a much smaller box she had borrowed.
She then thought it would be a good idea to lie down and Harriet enquired if she would like a bath before dinner.
“His Lordship’s asked for it to be at nine o’clock, so try, my Lady, to have a little sleep. I knows how these long journeys from the country can be real exhaustin’.”
Harriet was surely kind and considerate and Kayla did actually doze a little before the hot water for her bath was brought into the room by two footmen.
Harriet had left out a very simple evening gown for her. It was the one she had worn almost every night since she had arrived at Forde Hall.
After the horrors of her wedding gown, she could not face anything at all elaborate.
She went downstairs just before nine o’clock to find that Christopher was waiting for her in the drawing room.
He had changed into evening clothes and Kayla had to admit that he looked not only handsome but had an air of authority about him.
He did not speak when she came into the room and Kayla enquired tentatively,
“I hope you managed to sort out all the matters that were worrying you.”
“All the ones that really matter,” he replied. Once again he was speaking in the rather lofty tone that made Kayla feel uncomfortable.
They walked to the dining room in silence and, when they sat down at the table, she decided that she would not speak again until he did.
The dining room was as large and as well furnished as the rest of the house and the food served by the butler and footmen was delicious.
Kayla thought if she was with someone who talked to her, she cou
ld have enjoyed it.
As if he was acting a part because the servants were present, Christopher made a number of dull remarks.
He spoke of the mileage they had travelled and the thoroughbreds he was driving. He was speaking to her, but Kayla was aware that he did not look at her directly.
In fact he had not done so since she came down for dinner.
When the desert was finished and Christopher had refused a liqueur, she asked a little demurely,
“Now that dinner is over, do I leave you alone or are we going into the drawing room together?”
“I will come with you,” he replied.
They walked again in silence down the corridors and then into the drawing room.
The door closed behind them and Christopher went to stand in front of the fireplace.
“I have been wondering,” he began, “if you are wise in coming with me. Actually I am going to India and then on to Nepal and Katmandu. It will be quite a hard journey as the railway ends in Bairagnia and after that one has to ride for the rest of the way.”
“I really love riding,” replied Kayla, “and I shall be perfectly happy, however far the journey may be from there to Katmandu.”
“Very well then, but it will be no use complaining half way there.”
Kayla smiled.
She knew he had no idea how much she had travelled aboard with her father.
As he seemed to have nothing more to say, she asked,
“What time are we leaving tomorrow?”
“We will be travelling on the P & O liner, Bezwada, which sails from Tilbury at noon. We must leave here at ten o’clock sharp.”
“Very well,” said Kayla. “Then I think I will retire to bed now, it has been a long day.”
“I agree with you,” he said, “and I shall not be long.”
He opened the door for her.
She walked with her head high along the corridor and up the stairs.
She was thinking, as she did so, that Christopher was still furious at having been married – and even more furious that she was the daughter of an actress.
There was no point in trying to explain her situation to him now. Perhaps once they were at sea he would be more amenable.
At least he was not being as disagreeable to her as her grandfather had been – so far – and there would, of course, be other people to talk to on board the ship.
‘If I have to stay silent for very much longer,’ she thought again, ‘I shall lose my voice and that will be that!’
She tried to laugh at her own joke, but she actually felt more like crying.
Harriet was waiting for her in the bedroom to help her undress.
“I hopes I’ve not forgotten anythin’ your Ladyship wi1l be wantin’,” she said. “And the luggage be all ready for the mornin’.”
“I am very grateful to you, Harriet.” She waited until Harriet had left the room and then she took an object from the bottom of her trunk and put it under her pillow.
It was a precaution she had thought of whilst they were driving to London.
At the same time, before she climbed into bed, she locked her bedroom door.
Because she had noticed a book beside her bed that interested her, she did not blow out the light.
Three candles were burning in a pretty chandelier on the table beside her.
The book she found was about India and it contained some pictures of the places she longed to visit and her father had told her how beautiful they were.
She thought it would be very exciting if she had the chance to see them now.
However, Christopher had said he was going straight to Nepal and that meant the only glimpse she would have of India would be from train windows.
Turning over the pages of the book, she was reading a very interesting description of the pink Palaces of Jaipur.
Suddenly, a door she had not realised existed near the windows, opened.
It had never occurred to Kayla that the room would have a boudoir attached to it or, as she realised now, that it communicated with the room occupied by Christopher.
He had taken off his evening clothes and he was now wearing a long dark robe, frogged as her father’s had been.
She looked up at him in astonishment as he walked towards the bed.
When he reached it, she asked him in a shaky voice,
“What – do you – want? Why – are you – here?”
“You may have forgotten,” Christopher replied in a somewhat cynical tone, “that we were married today and this is our wedding night.”
Kayla gave a little gasp.
“I know – that,” she stuttered, “but surely – under the circumstances – you don’t mean – you cannot – think – ”
“I imagined,” he stated slightly aggressively, “that is what you would expect. After all we are man and wife and there is nothing we can do about it.”
“Then – of course,” Kayla hesitated, “we can – get to – know each – other.”
“That is exactly what I am suggesting,” he replied.
Now he was standing close to her and looking down at her.
She suddenly thought there was a glint in his eyes that had not been there before.
She had, of course, no idea of how lovely she looked with her long brown hair cascading over her shoulders.
The candlelight revealed her bare arms and the soft outline of her breasts.
Chistopher then put out his hand, but before he could touch her, Kayla moved.
A second later she was pointing her father’s revolver directly at him.
It was the object she had hidden under the pillow after Harriet had left her.
Christopher looked at her in complete astonishment.
It was the first time any woman had ever threatened him with a firearm and instinctively he moved back a pace or two.
Then he sat down on the far end of the bed.
“I did not think – I would have – to use – this,” Kayla breathed. “But I took it – to bed with me tonight – just in case you tried – to visit me. And I l-locked my d-door.”
Her last few words sounded distinctly unsteady.
Christopher looked at her quizzically
“As my wife your room communicates with mine. And let me assure you there is no need for you to point that somewhat unpleasant weapon at me. I very much doubt if you know how to use it anyway”
“That is an insult!” Kayla fumed. “My father taught me – when I was very young, how to – defend myself just in case it was – necessary in the – African desert or in the wild mountains of Turkey.”
Christopher stared at her.
“You have been to those places?”
“I have and a great many more. That is – why I want to go with you to Nepal – but I would go anywhere to escape my grandfather.”
“I suppose that your grandfather and my father are now congratulating themselves on having scored off us!”
“I sensed when we were being married that you hated what was happening – as much as I did.”
“Why did you not refuse?” Now there was a harsh note in his voice that had not been there before.
“Because, believe it or not, my grandfather threatened to beat me insensible or to – lock me up in a room which I would never be able to leave and – no one would ever speak to me – because he would give it out to everybody that I – was mad.”
“I just don’t believe it,” Christopher ejaculated.
“It’s – true.” “Why should he behave like that?” “Because, as I thought you knew, my grandfather exiled my father from England purely because he had married my mother.”
He did not speak and she went on, “My mother was most definitely not an actress, but she had a really beautiful soprano voice and she sang with an orchestra that played classical music.”
She looked at him defiantly as she continued,
“Only after my father’s death, when my grandfather refused to give us any money at all, did she
appear on the stage so that I could be educated at the Convent in Florence. That, incidentally, was the only time we used our titles.”
Christopher was listening to her intently.
“I have never heard of anything so extraordinary!” he exclaimed. “Of course I can understand now how angry this news will make my father.”
“Apparently the two of them have always hated each other ever since they were at school together. So we are the victims of their rage.”
“I do realise that now and the only thing we can do, Kayla, is to make the best of it.”
It was the first time that he had addressed her by her Christian name.
Kayla had put the revolver down in front of her while she was speaking and now she suggested,
“I think we have – a great deal to talk about and to think about.”
“I agree with you there, Kayla.” “So perhaps you will understand – that I cannot let a man touch me – who I do not love. I want the love that my father and mother had for each other – which made them so blissfully happy – although they were very poor and could afford no luxuries – except for me.”
“That is exactly what I have been looking for too,” he added.
“Let us hope that one day we will both find it,” Kayla replied. “And if you fall in love with someone, then perhaps I shall have to – disappear in some way or another – but in the meantime I – want to find love.”
Christopher rose from the bed.
“You are very young,” he said, “but at the same time very wise. So let’s both set off on our unusual and most unexpected honeymoon and leave what comes later in the lap of the Gods.”
Kayla smiled.
“Thank you, that is just what I – wanted you to say.” Christopher glanced at the revolver.
“I don’t have much choice,” he admitted with a laugh.
He then walked over the room towards the connecting door.
“Goodnight, Kayla, and please don’t be late tomorrow morning. I want to make sure, if nothing else, that we are comfortable on board the liner.”
He did not wait for a reply, but went out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Kayla gave a sigh of relief.
It had all turned out much better than she had dared to hope.
The Mountain of Love Page 9