The Duke & the Preachers Daughter

by Barbara Cartland

  He had gone to her bedroom to collect her for the wedding ceremony. It had not been the room she had occupied on the second floor, but the State bedroom where the Duchesses of Kingswood had always slept and which communicated with his.

  He had knocked on the door and it was Mrs. Newall who had called, “come in” before Benedicta could reply.

  Then, as if she sensed who was there, she turned from the dressing table to stand looking at him.

  Because her veil did not yet cover her face, he could see her eyes clearly and he thought that no woman could look more lovely or more loving.

  “Nolan!”

  He thought the way she spoke his name seemed to express everything that was within her heart,

  “Your Grace!” Mrs. Newall said and curtseying, had withdrawn from the room to hurry down the stairs to take her place in the Chapel.

  “I have come to fetch you, my darling,” the Duke said. “Everyone is ready, including the Vicar, and I for one cannot wait any longer.”

  Benedicta moved towards him and he thought she looked like a nymph who had risen from the mist that covered the lake in the early morning.

  There was something ethereal about her.

  But she no longer looked like the lost waif as she had done when he had seen her across her father’s grave and longed to comfort and protect her.

  Now she had an assurance and a new confidence which he knew came because he had given her his love and because her feelings for him were so overwhelming that she found it hard to express them.

  As she reached his side, she looked up at him and asked,

  “You are sure – quite sure that even at this last moment you would not wish to remain a bachelor? If you have – changed your mind – I will – understand.”

  “And if I did, what would you feel?”

  Benedicta drew in her breath.

  “It would – break my heart to lose you, but you know above everything else, I want your happiness – and that is why I want you to feel free if that is – what you wish.”

  The Duke put his fingers under her chin and tipped her face up to his.

  “I can never be free again. I am caught, captured and completely conquered, my darling, by an enemy against which there is no defence.”

  “An – enemy?”

  “That is what I believed love to be,” the Duke answered, “but now I know I was wrong and, if you think you can lose me, you are very much mistaken. Come, I am more impatient than I can possibly say to make you my wife.”

  As he finished speaking, his lips were on hers and she knew without further words that what he had said was true.

  He wanted her, desired her, and yet there was something so much deeper in their relationship, that she knew he was right when he said he was conquered, completely and absolutely.

  He was hers and she was his, and there was no possible escape for either of them.

  Very gently the Duke drew the veil over Benedicta’s face, then with her arm through his and his other hand covering hers, they walked down the grand staircase side-by-side.

  The Chapel was a bower of flowers and a dozen servants sitting at the back and Richard in the front pew, were so unobtrusive as to make Benedicta feel as if she and the Duke were alone in the presence of God.

  Every word of the Service seemed to beat in her mind like the music of angels and she felt that both her father and mother were near her and glad with an overwhelming gladness that she had found love as they had.

  After the ceremony, they had cut the cake that had been made by the chef and been toasted in champagne until the Duke had said firmly that Richard must go to bed, because he was looking tired.

  Then at last, they were alone, but only for a short while before it was time for dinner and they walked into the great dining room to sit in a little oasis of light at the flower-decked table.

  It made Benedicta surprised that it was only four days ago that the Duke had said,

  “When Richard is better and your trousseau is ready I will take you abroad, but because I want to marry you as quickly as possible, I am only going to wait until one gown is ready, the one you will wear at your wedding.”

  Because Benedicta was so happy for him to plan everything for her, she had agreed and she had not really been surprised when the gown arrived within three days and with it a multitude of exquisitely made but more intimate garments, that the Duke had ordered from London.

  No one, he had decided, should know about the wedding until it had actually taken place and there was every excuse for secrecy as Benedicta was in mourning.

  There was also a need for speed and Benedicta approved of this because, as the Duke had said, once it was known that they were married Delyth Maulden would no longer pursue Richard.

  She was, in fact, terrified that having failed in her first attempt to murder the Duke, Lady Delyth would try something else.

  Every time the Duke left the house she was afraid and she insisted on riding with him every morning.

  Although she had never expressed her fears for him, he was well aware that she looked round her apprehensively every time they were in a wood or near a thick hedge from which some assailant might appear.

  Tonight when dinner was over and they walked back along the corridor to the salon, Benedicta said,

  “I keep feeling I am in a dream – but as long as I can hold on to you and as long as you are beside me – I shall gradually become convinced that what is happening is – real.”

  “I will convince you, my precious,” the Duke answered.

  They walked into the salon and Benedicta saw that all the curtains were drawn with the exception of those covering a long French window that opened onto the terrace.

  She went towards it and the Duke suggested,

  “I thought tonight of all nights, we ought to look at the stars and think how lucky we are that out of the millions of planets in the Universe, we have found each other.”

  “So very – very lucky,” Benedicta said. “At the same time I think it is all planned that we should meet and that we should – love each other.”

  “I do not mind how it happened,” the Duke answered, “but it has and that is what is important.”

  He put his arm around her and drew her through the window onto the terrace.

  It was a warm night with no wind and a mist rose above the lake and swirled around the trunks of the trees in the Park.

  The stars were brilliant in the sky and there was a crescent moon climbing amongst them.

  Benedicta threw back her head to look up.

  “Could anything be more beautiful or inspiring?”

  “That is what I thought when I saw you.”

  She smiled shyly at him and then turned so as to be close in his arms.

  “I love you! I adore you!” she cried. “I cannot think of anything else and there seem to be no other words with which to tell you how I feel.”

  “That is what I want to say to you. Not once but a thousand times and now, my darling, there is nothing to stop me saying it, because you are mine.”

  She lifted her face for him to kiss her, but to her surprise he was looking not at her, but still up at the sky.

  Then he said,

  “Before you came into my life I questioned many things – whether there was a God, whether there was any plan in the Universe and certainly whether there was any survival after death.”

  Benedicta listened, for she had never heard him speak so seriously.

  “Then, my darling,” he continued, “I found you and you have given me not only an indescribable happiness and a love I had never thought to find, but also quite a new conception of everything we are and everything mankind strives to become.”

  “Have I – really done that?”

  “You have, but there is so much more I want to learn and that is what you have to teach me.”

  “Tell me – what you want,” Benedicta murmured.

  “I think everybody yearns for faith and because that is what
you have, it shines from you like a light from the stars above. That is what I want you to give me as well as the inestimable gift of yourself.”

  “It is what I want to give you, my darling husband,” Benedicta replied. “It is something which we must give to our children, so that they never doubt that God is there to help and protect them.”

  “Our children – ” the Duke whispered quietly beneath his breath.

  Benedicta lifted her arms and put them round his neck.

  “I know what Kingswood means to you and your family. That is why I must, my precious husband, not only love you with all my heart and soul, but also, if God is willing, give you an heir who can carry on the traditions of your great family.”

  The Duke drew in his breath.

  He knew this was what he wanted, what had been in the back of his mind, and he thought that no one but Benedicta would have spoken so frankly or so sweetly.

  “You know that is what I want,” he said in his deep voice, “and I can imagine nothing more perfect than that we should have children born of our love.”

  “That is what I am – trying to say and, oh, Nolan, I love you so desperately that I feel only in giving you a son who will be as wonderful as you, will I be able to express how much you mean to me.”

  The Duke’s arms went round her and he kissed her fiercely and with a passion she had not known from him before.

  And yet she knew there was still something other-worldly between them – something that seemed part of the stars, the mist and the vows they had made in the Chapel.

  The Duke kissed her for a long time, then at last he said,

  “Let us go upstairs, my darling one. I want to be closer to you than I can be at this moment. I want to make you mine so that never again will we be two separate people but one.”

  He drew her into the salon, then they walked quietly and without speaking up the stairs towards the historic rooms where so many Duchesses had lived, loved and contributed to the history not only of the family but of England.

  When they entered Benedicta’s bedroom, the candles were alight and there was a small fire in the grate, but there was nobody waiting for her.

  She looked a little questioningly at the Duke and he said,

  “I ordered that nobody was to wait up for us tonight, neither a maid for you nor Hawkins for me. We would just be alone.”

  “That is – exactly what I would like,” Benedicta replied, “and yet I feel a little – shy because I shall have to – ask you to – undo my – g-gown.”

  She saw the smile on his lips and she added,

  “I feel sure you are very – experienced at doing – such things.”

  “Does that make you jealous?” the Duke asked. “I assure you, my darling, you need not be jealous of the past for I have never, and this is the truth, felt as I feel now.”

  “What – do you feel?”

  “Younger than my years, happier than I have ever been in my whole life, and very very much in love.”

  Benedicta gave a little cry and threw herself against him.

  “Go on feeling like that,” she begged. “Oh, darling, I am so frightened that I may – disappoint you.”

  She hid her face against his shoulder and whispered in a voice he could hardly hear,

  “Richard said that I was the right wife for you because I was so intelligent – but at this moment I am very – ignorant and I know so little – that I may – disappoint you.”

  The Duke’s eyes were very tender as he pulled her closer to him.

  “Do you think I want you to know anything but what I shall teach you?” he asked. “I adore your ignorance and I love you when you are shy and most of all, I worship you because you are pure and untouched.”

  There was something in the way he spoke which made Benedicta know that he was telling her something that moved him deeply.

  “I knew without your telling me that I was the first man who had ever kissed you and I shall be the first man to touch your exquisite body or possess you. I shall also be the only man and the last.”

  He spoke fiercely and with a note in his voice that was almost menacing.

  Benedicta looked up at him and saw a sudden hardness in his eyes and a sharpness to the lines of his mouth that surprised her.

  “How could there be anybody else but you?” she asked. “You know that I would not marry Richard because I did not love him. Do you imagine that I could ever find another man who could interest me?”

  She moved a little closer as she added,

  “In the whole world there is only you – and you – and you – and I love you with all – of me.”

  Her words seemed to vibrate between them and now he looked down at her, seeing her eyes wide and very young with a touch of bewilderment in them because she did not understand why he was speaking as he was.

  He knew that her innocence and purity was all he ever wanted, all he had ever thought to find in a woman he could make his wife.

  He knew too that in the love that would make them one, all that had hurt and wounded him in the past, would be swept away.

  The barriers he had created around himself because of what he had discovered about his mother had fallen.

  The shrine in his heart which she had spoilt and defamed was no longer empty. Benedicta was there, filling it completely, surrounding it with the light that came from her soul and which was the celestial light of the Divine.

  He looked down at her, sensing with a new perception, the little fear that he had evoked by the harshness of his words.

  She was uncertain, unsure not of her love but of his and he knew at that moment that the past was swept away, as if by a great tidal wave and that the future glowed golden ahead.

  There was only the present – the present when he had come into his Kingdom and found that the impossible was possible.

  The last battle was fought, the last enemy of doubt defeated.

  Very tenderly he looked down into Benedicta’s eyes.

  He knew that later tonight they would be able to talk more freely – he could tell her what was in his heart and his thankfulness for the wonder and glory of their love.

  But now, at the moment, there was no need for words, but those that came spontaneously in the rapture of knowing that she was his.

  His lips came down on hers and his arms crushed her against him.

  “You are mine!” he breathed. “All mine, my precious darling, and I will love you from now until Eternity, as you will love me.”

  He kissed her until he could feel her soft and pliant against him and knew that his lips had awakened in her the first flickering flames of desire.

  It was then that he gently undid the buttons at the back of her gown.

  He felt her tremble for a moment, but it was not only with shyness, but because of the new sensations he was arousing within her and which she had never felt before.

  He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, the little pulse that was beating in her throat.

  Then, as her gown slipped to the floor, he lifted her in his arms.

  “This is how I carried you once before,” he sighed, “and I knew then that you were mine and I could never lose you.”

  “I – love you – Nolan!” Benedicta said again. “I love you – and you make me feel very – strange and – very excited.”

  “That is what I want you to feel.”

  He laid her down on the great silk-canopied bed, blew out the candles and a moment later he was beside her holding her in his arms.

  He felt a tremor run through her and he too felt excited and aroused as he had never been before in any of his love affairs.

  This was different – this was a woman whom he not only desired with his body but also with his mind, his heart and his soul.

  He brushed Benedicta’s hair back from her forehead so that he could look at her face and he thought no one could look so incredibly beautiful.

  It was not only the perfection of her features but something spiritual in her expr
ession and her eyes that drew him as if there was a shaft of starlight drawing him up into the sky.

  He bent his head to find her lips, his hand touched her body and he felt them tremble together.

  Then there was only the ecstasy, rapture and glory of God which a man and woman joined as one, find when their love is pure and innocent of evil.

  THE END

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  OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES

  The Barbara Cartland Eternal Collection is the unique opportunity to collect as ebooks all five hundred of the timeless beautiful romantic novels written by the world’s most celebrated and enduring romantic author.

  Named the Eternal Collection because Barbara’s inspiring stories of pure love, just the same as love itself, the books will be published on the internet at the rate of four titles per month until all five hundred are available.

  The Eternal Collection, classic pure romance available worldwide for all time .

  Elizabethan Lover

  The Little Pretender

  A Ghost in Monte Carlo

  A Duel of Hearts

  The Saint and the Sinner

  The Penniless Peer

  The Proud Princess

  The Dare-Devil Duke

  Diona and a Dalmatian

  A Shaft of Sunlight

  Lies for Love

  Love and Lucia

  Love and the Loathsome Leopard

  Beauty or Brains

  The Temptation of Torilla

  The Goddess and the Gaiety Girl

  Fragrant Flower

  Look Listen and Love

  The Duke and the Preacher’s Daughter

  THE LATE DAME BARBARA CARTLAND

  Barbara Cartland, who sadly died in May 2000 at the grand age of ninety eight, remains one of the world’s most famous romantic novelists. With worldwide sales of over one billion, her outstanding 723 books have been translated into thirty six different languages, to be enjoyed by readers of romance globally.

  Writing her first book ‘Jigsaw’ at the age of 21, Barbara became an immediate bestseller. Building upon this initial success, she wrote continuously throughout her life, producing bestsellers for an astonishing 76 years. In addition to Barbara Cartland’s legion of fans in the UK and across Europe, her books have always been immensely popular in the USA. In 1976 she achieved the unprecedented feat of having books at numbers 1 & 2 in the prestigious B. Dalton Bookseller bestsellers list.