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The Trail to Love

Page 11

by Barbara Cartland


  *

  Her cousin did not return to The Towers until some hours later and Elissa was alarmed when, shortly after she had heard the crunch of horses’ hoofs on the gravel, there was a loud knock at her bedroom door.

  Ellen ran to answer, but it was not Lord Hartwell standing outside, just a footman with an armful of brown paper parcels and several large hatboxes.

  Ellen’s eyes were wide as saucers as she took them from him.

  “Shall I open them up, miss?” she asked excitedly.

  “Please wait, Ellen,” replied Elissa, as the footman bowed low in front of her and placed a white envelope in her hand.

  But Ellen was already opening a hatbox to reveal a little grey velvet hat with long silvery plumes.

  “His Lordship must ’ave ’ad good luck again,” she sighed, stroking the hat.

  That undoubtedly must be the explanation for this second delivery of gifts.

  But her heart was beating with apprehension as she opened the envelope and read the note inside and there was no mention of another lucky win.

  “Sweet cousin,”she read.

  “My bad behaviour this morning was inexcusable. I have been in hell all through today, completely unable to forget the expression of misery on your lovely face as I left the library.

  It is my dearest wish that you should accept these few small tokens as an expression of my sincere regret for causing you even a moment’s distress.

  I just cannot forgive myself for my intemperate and unkind words and I am sure I would not deserve that you should ever be able to do so.

  But if you could find it in your heart to forgive – please, please dear cousin, wear the white-and-silver gown to dinner tonight and I shall know that I am in some small part forgiven for my cruelty and that you are truly an angel of mercy and kindness.

  Your humble and penitent cousin,

  Falcon.”

  A faint scent of whisky and cigars arose from the thick cream-coloured paper, as if the note had only just left Lord Hartwell’s hands.

  ‘Perhaps he really regrets treating me so roughly,’ surmised Elissa.

  Her shoulder was still painful from her fall that morning, but as she reread her cousin’s words she recalled how sometimes his dark eyes with their swooping brows and the strong bones of his handsome face reminded her of her Mama.

  Now Ellen was tearing yards of tissue paper from an exquisite white gown that was laced with silver brocade and embroidered with seed pearls.

  “Did you ever see anything so lovely!” she gasped.

  The dress was as soft and light as a cloud and Elissa could not resist reaching out to touch the delicate silk.

  Maybe his bad temper and his thoughtlessness were just a small part of him, made worse by the fact that he had drunk too much champagne and whisky the night before.

  ‘I should forgive Falcon,’ she reflected. ‘He is my cousin, part of my family and he has made an apology.’

  She turned to Ellen.

  “You are right, it is lovely. I shall wear it tonight!”

  The dining room was filled with candles and the long table was dressed with white hyacinths and the same tiny violets Elissa had seen earlier in the garden.

  As she sat down she felt a moment of unease as the white dress left her shoulders bare and she had not thought, as Ellen was dressing her, that her cousin would be seated opposite her.

  Lord Hartwell’s dark eyes were soft and unreadable in the candlelight without any hint of their usual boldness.

  His only concern seemed to be that Elissa should enjoy her food, that her glass should always be filled and that everything should be just as she liked it.

  Lady Hartwell sat silent at the table, a little smile on her lips and he ate very little.

  As the dessert was brought in, she rose to her feet.

  “I have no appetite for meringues,” she sighed. “It has been a long day and I think, dearest, that I shall retire.”

  Lord Hartwell stood and bowed low over her hand.

  “Rest well, dear heart.”

  Elissa stood up too as if to follow her grandmother.

  “Oh no, Elissa,” Lady Hartwell now insisted, a little smile flickering over her lips again, as she turned to leave. “You must stay and enjoy yourself.”

  Lord Hartwell gazed at Elissa as he crumbled his frosty white dessert with his fork.

  “So I am clearly not forgiven,” he remarked after a moment, the candle flames glinting in his dark eyes.

  “Why – I – ” Elissa began.

  “For you cannot even bear to spend a few moments alone with me,” he continued.

  “Not at all – no – I just thought Grandmama – ”

  Elissa stumbled over the words in her confusion.

  “But perhaps you are tired, your sweet face is very pale.”

  He stood up from the table and held out his hand.

  “Come, let’s go to the drawing room where we may be a little more comfortable.”

  “I should retire – ” Elissa tried to say, but he was bearing down upon her, pressing her hand upon his arm and leading her out of the dining room.

  Once in the drawing room he flung himself down into a leather armchair and propped his head in his hands, a smouldering frown creasing his brow.

  “Why are you so cold to me!”

  His voice was tight and hard.

  Elissa’s head was spinning.

  “I – don’t mean – ” she began and suddenly he was kneeling on the carpet at her feet, catching her white silken skirts in his hands.

  “It is all my fault!” he muttered. “I have been so heartless, thoughtless and cruel to you.”

  Then he looked up at her and more strongly than ever, she saw the likeness to her dear beautiful Mama in his handsome face.

  He pressed his face against her skirts.

  “Elissa, Elissa – ” he mumbled and a tremor passed through his body that made her wonder if he was weeping.

  “I forgive you,” she then whispered, wishing that he would let her go.

  He raised his head, his eyes glowing with a wild light.

  “Marry me Elissa, my darling angel! Promise that you will be my wife!”

  “Oh, but – I – ”

  Shocked to the core by his words and the strange brightness in his eyes, Elissa tried to move away from him, but he wrapped his arms around her knees and pulled her tightly towards him.

  “Sweet angel – I can see by your gentle looks that you take pity on me!” he blustered, gazing up at her.

  “But – ”

  “There shall be no ‘buts’,” he murmured, getting to his feet and catching hold of her bare shoulders. “So sweet an angel cannot help but love me.”

  And before she could utter another word, his lips were roughly pressed against hers and the heat of his body surged through her trembling limbs.

  Elissa felt that she might suffocate if he did not take his mouth from hers, but just as suddenly as he had seized her, he let her go.

  “My darling angel!” he said, a proud smile on his face. “You are white with exhaustion. Go to bed. And I – poor Falcon shall lie awake with thoughts of you – ”

  And as he sprawled across the armchair, his black eyes were fixed on her as Elissa stumbled to the door and escaped from the drawing room.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It had been the longest morning in Richard’s life.

  His mind kept leaping ahead to two o’clock and all he could see in his mind’s eye was Elissa’s lovely face, as she opened the door in the garden wall and stepped through it to join him.

  He could not help feeling, as he set off to climb the hill path that he was undoubtedly the luckiest and happiest man in the world.

  But when he did arrive expectantly at The Towers, Elissa was nowhere to be seen.

  Richard pulled out his Papa’s gold watch, which he had managed to keep when everything else from the house at Lanchberry Close was sold off and checked the time.

  It was
ten minutes to two.

  ‘I am early!’ he sighed with relief. ‘She must still be at luncheon.’

  As he waited patiently by the door in the garden wall, Richard smiled to himself, remembering how, when he heard Mr. Oldroyd’s story, he had pictured the girl who chose the winning horse for Lord Hartwell to be a spoiled Society beauty.

  This was not at all how Elissa had looked yesterday with her bright golden hair tumbling over the shoulders of her sky-blue dress, everything about her so fresh, innocent and entrancing.

  He started as the front door of The Towers opened and a woman came out dressed in a smart silver gown and a grey hat.

  She looked the epitome of an elegant Society lady as she stood on the long front step for a moment, shading her eyes with a grey-gloved hand, while the breeze ruffled the long silver feathers that dangled from her hat.

  Now a tall gentleman with dark hair emerged and joined the woman on the front step, taking her arm.

  He must surely be Elissa’s cousin, Falcon, Richard thought. The man was tall and well built and, even from a distance, his strong features looked handsome.

  But where was Elissa?

  Surely she should be out in the garden by now and making her way to the door to greet him?

  Now the couple by the door seemed to be arguing and the woman was trying to free her arm from the man’s grasp.

  Richard strained to hear what they were saying, but although he could catch the tone of their voices, the words were carried away on the warm spring breeze.

  The man now seized the woman in his arms and, as he did so, her hat was knocked to the ground, revealing her golden hair, which was neatly tied up on top of her head.

  For a moment Richard could not believe his eyes.

  Then he tugged at the door in the wall until the iron bars at the top rattled, but it would not open.

  “Elissa!” he shouted out.

  It had to be her, despite the formal grey dress and the hat, clothes he could never have imagined her wearing.

  No other girl had such brilliant golden hair.

  She turned at the sound of his voice, and just for a moment, Richard thought she might break away and run to him, but the man caught her hand and pulled her back so that she was facing him again.

  Richard remembered how Elissa had blushed when they had spoken about Lord Hartwell.

  Yesterday he had made a joke of it.

  But what if she did care for her cousin and had been too shy to tell him?

  His heart now turned to ice as he watched the dark-haired man raise Elissa’s hand to his lips.

  He was drawing her close to him, pressing his lips to her face –

  Richard could watch no more.

  Elissa had not exactly lied to him, but she had not told him the truth. There was something between her and her cousin, Lord Hartwell.

  Richard’s mind was filled with a black and angry pain he could scarcely endure and he turned away from the garden and headed back towards the hills, stumbling over the heather and the rough grass in his eagerness to be gone.

  *

  “Please, please! Let me go!” cried Elissa, twisting her face away from the kisses her cousin was planting on her lips.

  On the other side of the garden she had indeed seen someone looking through the door in the wall. It must be Richard, waiting for her – and with every inch of her body she longed to run to him.

  “Why so distressed, my dear angel?” Lord Hartwell enquired, seizing her wrists.

  She fought to free her hands, but he was too strong.

  “I think perhaps we should go back inside, for your gown will tear if you keep behaving like this and since it is my gift to you, that would not be very polite, would it?” he snarled.

  Elissa twisted her arms in a last desperate attempt to escape, but behind him the great door creaked open and Lady Hartwell appeared on the front step.

  “What is going on?” she asked, her voice as sharp and cold as ice. “Cease this nonsense immediately, Elissa. Pick up your hat and come inside, I wish to speak to you.”

  Lord Hartwell let go of her and Elissa spun round looking for Richard.

  He was no longer at the garden door and she could see him in the distance, running away up the path.

  ‘Oh – I will never catch up with him,’ she thought, her whole being sinking into despair.

  “Did you not hear me?” Lady Hartwell shouted, her face pale with rage. “Come inside, girl! Now!”

  Elissa picked up the velvet hat, from where it had fallen and followed her grandmother into the hall, her heart as heavy as a stone.

  Lady Hartwell then led her to the rug in front of the great fireplace, where she had been waiting that very first night at The Towers.

  “I have been far too lenient with you, Elissa,” she said, spitting out the words.

  “There has been a mistake, I did not mean – ”

  She thought perhaps Lady Hartwell was angry that Falcon had proposed to her or jealous that she had received so many fine gifts from him.

  And yet it had been Lady Hartwell who had insisted that she wear the fine grey dress, the gloves and the hat this afternoon. Could it be that the sight of Elissa looking so elegant and refined had upset her?

  Elissa began explaining that she had not accepted Falcon’s proposal and had no intention of stealing Lady Hartwell’s beloved grandson from her, and that she would not dream of marrying him.

  But Lady Hartwell was not listening and carried on speaking in a cold angry voice,

  “How could I have forgotten the bitter lesson your foolish Mama taught me? I should have never allowed you to leave this house!”

  “But – I don’t understand – ”

  “But history will not repeat itself. We have caught you in time!”

  “I had no intention of running away!” cried Elissa, scared by the harsh expression on her grandmother’s face.

  “That is as may be!” she snorted, “but you will not be given the opportunity for any longer. Falcon will see to that. He has told me that he has proposed to you!”

  A grim smile appeared on her lips.

  “Yes – but I have not accepted,” Elissa persisted, hoping her grandmother would now stop being so upset.

  “Then I would advise you to do so immediately,” Lady Hartwell replied, her mouth shutting like a trap as she finished speaking.

  “I cannot!” gasped Elissa, shocked to the core, her limbs trembling uncontrollably.

  Lady Hartwell appeared to be losing her mind.

  Only yesterday she had gravely warned Elissa of her cousin’s impetuous and greedy ways and told her not to allow him to take advantage of her.

  Now, she was telling her to marry him!

  Lady Hartwell was shaking her head, a look of grief and anger on her face.

  “You expect me to believe you, when you say you did not mean to run away? I saw you with that young man yesterday. Hand in hand just like a pair of lovelorn fools. I know what will follow from such nonsense.”

  ‘Oh, Richard!’

  Elissa’s heart swelled with pain as she thought of him running away up her secret path.

  What would she do if she never saw him again?

  It was what her grandmother now wanted, that was abundantly clear.

  She was afraid that Elissa would do exactly as her mother had done and turned her back on her family for the love of a poor artist.

  And at that very moment she knew that she did love Richard with all her heart and soul, and she felt deep inside her that he loved her too.

  Somehow, whatever it took, she must see him again and tell him how she felt.

  Her grandmother was watching her closely.

  “I can see it in your face that I am right,” she was saying. “You are so innocent, so transparent. Unlike your devious wicked mother, who tricked me so easily.”

  Lady Hartwell sighed and smoothed her skirts.

  “Well. There is an easy solution. You will marry Falcon. Perhaps that way I wi
ll keep some hold over him too. For he seems to adore you. I have never seen him so affected by a girl. Just think of all the gifts he has lavished on you!”

  “I will give them all back!” cried Elissa, pulling off her grey kid gloves and throwing them to the floor along with the hat.

  “I cannot marry him.”

  “Go to your room at once,” Lady Hartwell growled. “And stay there until you come to your senses. You will marry Falcon and you will remain here at The Towers, as is your duty.”

  “Well said, Grandmama!”

  Lord Hartwell approached, from where he had been loitering by the door.

  “My sweet angel, why are you weeping? All the girls in Yorkshire would give anything to marry me, didn’t you know?”

  He picked up Elissa’s gloves and held them to his cheek, saying,

  “Come, let me escort you to your room.”

  Desperate, Elissa looked at the great front door, but there were now two large footmen standing in front of it, and she knew if she tried to run, they would block her path.

  She had no choice but to ascend the wide staircase with her cousin following close on her heels.

  As they reached the landing he bent and muttered,

  “The Towers is a grim old place for a sweet young beauty to be hidden away for ever. Take no notice of dear Grandmama. She means well, but I intend to take you to London. Pack your bags, my sweetest darling, as we will leave tomorrow. And you will need all the lovely clothes I have given you.”

  His breath felt hot on her face and Elissa recoiled from him.

  She wanted to tell him that she could never marry him and she could not bear to go to London with him, but she was afraid that if she even looked at him, he might try to kiss her again.

  They reached her bedroom door and Lord Hartwell fumbled in his pocket and drew out a silver key.

  He was going to lock the door behind her.

  A wave of panic surged through Elissa, but there was nothing she could do. If she confronted him, he would simply use force and she could not bear to feel his hands touching her again.

  “À demain, my angel!” he sneered. “I shall leave you to reflect on your remarkable good fortune.”

  As she then stumbled blindly into her bedroom, she heard the key turn in the lock behind her, trapping her.

 

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