Fire in the Blood

by Barbara Cartland

  “They want cleaning!” Lord Silvester replied.

  Pandia laughed and commented,

  “That is not the right answer, but I really am curious!”

  “I would like to show you the Rajput miniatures at Udaipur,” Lord Silvester said. “On my last trip this was the first time I had seen them myself and they are indeed very beautiful.”

  “Papa talked about them,” Pandia replied. “He also told me about the wonderful ruins at Karnak, Pompeii and of course Delphi, but they are places of which I can only dream and never see.”

  As she looked at him, she saw the surprise in his eyes and realised that once again she had made a mistake.

  “Why not?” he asked. “Surely your husband intends to take you abroad? And all these places are much easier to reach than they used to be.”

  Because she was so frightened at having said something so foolish, Pandia did not reply and to her relief Lord Silvester stopped outside one of the doors in the corridor.

  “I must be very quick,” she said, “otherwise I shall never get back to London.”

  He opened the door and she found herself in a boudoir that was very different from Selene’s.

  On a couch beside a brightly burning fire sat Lady Anne with satin cushions at her back which were faded with age, as was everything else in the room, and seemed as old as she was.

  She had taken off the black bonnet with its crêpe veil that she had worn in the Church and now her white hair was rather sparse on her head and a little untidy.

  She had a thick woollen shawl in an unbecoming shade of grey over her shoulders and she looked, Pandia thought, rather like one of the old women in the village whom she had regularly visited.

  She held out her hand and when she took Lady Anne’s blue-veined one in hers, she realised how cold she was.

  “It was so kind of you to come, my dear,” Lady Anne began. “It is such a long way from London in this terrible weather.”

  “My husband was so sorry that he had to be in Paris,” Pandia said gently.

  “I am sorry not to have seen George,” Lady Anne answered, “but I know how busy and important he is, and of course he is not getting any younger. You must take care of him.”

  “I will try,” Pandia replied.

  “Silvester tells me that you are going back to London. I only hope the roads will be passable, but perhaps it would be wiser for you to stay the night.”

  “Oh, no,” Pandia said quickly. “It is very kind of you, but I cannot do that.”

  “If the road is impassable, turn round and come back. There is plenty of room for you here.”

  “You are very kind, but I am quite certain it will not be as bad as all that. Goodbye and thank you very much for a delicious luncheon.”

  “I am glad you enjoyed it,” Lady Anne said. “The chefs have been working very hard, for most people want something to cheer them up after a burial.”

  “That is true, Cousin Anne,” Lord Silvester said, speaking for the first time. “I will tell the chefs later how much we enjoyed what they provided.”

  “Yes, do that, dear boy,” Lady Anne said, “I know they will appreciate it. It has been difficult these days, while poor Rudolph has been ill for so long, to keep them interested in their work when we have not been able to entertain.”

  Pandia thought that what she was saying was rather touching.

  She had noticed while they were talking that the room in which the lights had not been lit, seemed to be growing darker and the snow outside falling more heavily than ever.

  “I really must be going,” she said quickly. “Goodbye, Lady Anne, and thank you again.”

  “Goodbye, my dear. Be very careful of yourself and do not hesitate to turn back if the snow is too bad.”

  “It is very kind of you.”

  She walked towards the door and behind her she heard Lord Silvester say,

  “I will see the Countess off, Cousin Anne, but I will come back later and talk to you.”

  As he joined Pandia outside in the corridor, she asked, “Are you staying here?”

  “I have arranged to stay tonight,” he answered, “but I am going up to London tomorrow, God willing and the weather permitting.”

  “I suppose to see your book the day before it is published.”

  “I have a number of copies to sign,” Lord Silvester replied, “and you shall have the first.”

  An idea came to her and she said a little hesitatingly, “Would it be – possible for you to – bring it to me tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “I may be – going away the next day – and I would like to – take it with me.”

  “Will you be away for long?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then I shall certainly bring you my book tomorrow.” Pandia felt somehow it was quite wrong, but her heart leapt at his promise.

  She wondered what Selene would say if she knew she entertained somebody at Grosvenor Square in her absence.

  Then she told herself that it would be far more complicated for Lord Silvester to present his book to Selene when she had not the slightest idea what it was all about.

  “Perhaps,” she suggested quickly, “you could come to tea?”

  “That is an invitation I have no intention of refusing and you know how much I will be looking forward to it.”

  He was speaking to her in a manner which not only made her feel shy, but it was impossible to look at him as she went slowly down the staircase.

  She had expected since she had said she was leaving that her coat and muff would be waiting for her in the hall.

  The butler, however, came forward as she reached the last step.

  “I’ve sent to the stables, my Lady, and your coachman says he’s sorry, but it’s quite impossible for your Ladyship to reach London this evening. The snow’s coming down so thick he can’t see his hand in front of his face!”

  Pandia turned to look at Lord Silvester.

  “Are you sure that is right?” she asked him.

  “I warned you,” he said, “and to risk an accident, which could easily happen driving blindly in weather like this, would be exceedingly foolish.”

  “I’m sure, my Lady,” the butler said, “you’d be more comfortable here and the weather may have cleared up by tomorrow morning.”

  Pandia looked helpless and Lord Silvester said,

  “Her Ladyship has already suggested that the Countess should stay if the weather is too bad. Will you tell Mrs. Whiteley to prepare a room for her? I feel sure that she can provide anything her Ladyship needs.”

  “I am sure she can, my Lord,” the butler replied.

  “Very good, Bates. Now I think we will go and sit in the blue drawing room if there is a fire there.”

  “I anticipated your Lordship would want to be in the small library this evening,” the butler replied, “and, as there has been a fire there all day, it’ll be warmer for her Ladyship.”

  “Very well, the small library it is,” Lord Silvester agreed.

  He put his hand under Pandia’s elbow and led her across the hall and down the passage hung with pictures and ancient weapons, which she felt again was everything she expected to find in a castle.

  The small library seemed to her a very large room and, as they entered it, Lord Silvester said,

  “Another time I would like to show you the big library which contains over twenty thousand books, but as it will certainly be very cold, I think we should stay here and be comfortable.”

  There was a leather-covered sofa in front of an enormous fireplace in which the logs were burning brightly and over the mantelpiece there was a large oil-painting of The Judgement of Paris.

  The subject had been painted by many artists, but in this particular picture Pandia thought that the Goddesses were all three exceptionally beautiful and Paris looked strong, masculine and very much a man.

  Lord Silvester followed the direction of her eyes and said, “As you must be well aware, none of them a
re as beautiful as you, and that includes Aphrodite!”

  “You are making me very conceited,” Pandia replied, “and I am still rather perturbed at not being able to return to London as I intended.”

  “Who is waiting for you there?”

  “Only the servants, who I presume will – guess what has – happened to me.”

  “Do you expect me to believe that?”

  “I cannot think why it should concern you one way or the other,” Pandia retorted.

  She had sat down on the sofa, which was on one side of the fireplace and he sat beside her.

  “You know that is a ridiculous answer,” he said. “I am concerned with anything that concerns you, and do not pretend that you are not aware of it.”

  Because he was very near to her and she was so acutely conscious of him, she found it difficult to know what to reply and instead she just stared into the fire.

  “There are a million things I want to say to you,” Lord Silvester said unexpectedly, “and yet now they fade into insignificance and all I can think of is that you are here, I can look at you and you are no longer a part of my dreams.”

  She looked at him, then quickly looked away again.

  “When we – arrived,” she said in a hesitating little voice, “you were – just going to tell me about your – journeys abroad. That is what I want to – hear about.”

  “There is plenty of time for that,” Lord Silvester said. “All I can think of now is that you are lovelier than I ever imagined anybody could be and, when I sat down beside you in the Church, I felt as if I had climbed to the top of the Himalayas and found you waiting for me.”

  Because what he was saying had, Pandia found, a strange effect on her, she told him,

  “Please – you must not – talk to me like this – you must be sensible.”

  Lord Silvester laughed.

  “What is sensible? To discuss the weather and the crops or to talk about ourselves? You know quite well it’s impossible for us to talk about anything else.”

  “But – we must not – you should not – ” Pandia tried to say.

  He laughed again very softly and rather tenderly.

  “Oh, my dear,” he said. “You are so sweet, so different from what I thought you would be. When I look at you, I am astounded by your loveliness! When I talk to you, I am bewildered because, while I know who you are, you are still like a little girl on the threshold of life and who knows nothing about the world and is looking at it with puzzled, innocent eyes.”

  Pandia drew in her breath.

  Then, as if he was thinking it out for himself, Lord Silvester went on,

  “I suppose it is because you are living in two worlds, the smart sophisticated world in which I have been told you shine and the world that I feel belongs to me, and which is the world your father knew.”

  “That is the world which interests me,” Pandia said, “so – please – tell me what I want to – know in case I never have the – opportunity of talking to you of it again.”

  She thought as she spoke that she must treasure everything he told her as something to remember when she was back at Little Barford and, as far as the Social world was concerned, had ceased to exist.

  As if he understood what she wanted, he said,

  “I will talk to you about anything you like – but make no mistake, this is the first conversation of many. I have so much to share with you – so much which I feel only you will understand.”

  “Why do you say – that?” Pandia asked.

  “Because up until now I have been entirely alone. I have enjoyed my life, it has been a great adventure, but I have never had anybody really interested with whom to discuss my findings or to share in my excitement when I discover something that has been hidden or forgotten for thousands of years.”

  “How do you – know that I shall – understand?”

  In answer, he took her hand from her lap and held it in both of his.

  She felt something like a streak of lightning run through her because he was touching her.

  He must have been aware of it, because he said,

  “Has anybody else ever made you feel like this?”

  He did not wait for her reply, but said gently,

  “I feel the same. It has never happened to me before and I am quite certain it will never happen again!”

  Because she was frightened Pandia took her hand from his.

  “I am – waiting,” she said in a voice that sounded strange even to herself, “for you to tell me about – India. Is that the last – country you have – visited?”

  Very quietly he started to tell her of the Rajput paintings he had seen in Udaipur and some ancient manuscripts he had discovered there which when he translated them, were poems of such beauty that everybody who listened to them had been astonished.

  “And they are in your book?” Pandia asked.

  “Not in the one which is being published now,” he replied, “but in my next book, the book which I want you to help me with.”

  “How can I do that when I have never been to India?”

  “It also includes a great deal about Greece and I have some old parchments which have only recently been unearthed in a long-forgotten Temple and which I have not yet translated.”

  Pandia clasped her hands together.

  “If only Papa was alive!”

  “I wish he were! I would certainly have asked him to help me,” Lord Silvester said, “but I have the feeling that you will do it as well as he would.”

  Pandia was just about to reply that nothing would be more exciting when she remembered that, while she might receive his book tomorrow, after that she would never see him again.

  She asked him question after question and they went on talking.

  Only when the butler came in to pull the curtains did she realise that it was now teatime and that she had been alone for over two hours with a man, which was something she had never experienced in her life before.

  The butler and two footmen brought in the tea, which involved a magnificent array of silver besides scones, sandwiches, hot toast, a large fruit cake and several plates of small ones.

  “Enough,” Lord Silvester said, “for a Regiment of soldiers!”

  “I-I am really not – hungry,” Pandia protested.

  “You must eat,” he insisted, “otherwise the chefs, as Lady Anne said, who have nobody to cook for and are feeling frustrated, will be disappointed.”

  Because he pressed her, Pandia ate some of the little fairy cakes and found them delicious, but she noticed that Lord Silvester ate very little.

  “You are cheating and thinking of your figure,” she teased, “while making me stuff myself in a very greedy manner.”

  “I have always found it too much trouble to eat at regular intervals or to stop just because it is midday when I am busy doing something much more interesting.”

  “Mama said Papa always forgot to eat when he was immersed in his translations. What you need is a wife to look after you.”

  “That is something I have just begun to realise,” Lord Silvester replied.

  Once again he was looking at her in a way which made her feel shy.

  The hours seemed to fly by until Pandia was aware that, as dinner was at eight o’clock, she should go upstairs to wash and tidy herself.

  “When you come down, I will see that Bates has the silver drawing room ready for you,” he said. “It’s a room I think you will appreciate and where I particularly want to see you.”

  She did not have to ask the reason. She was aware of what he was thinking, and it made her blush.

  As she walked up the stairs, she wished that she could change into an evening gown for dinner, knowing that, because Lord Silvester was staying in the house, he would have his evening clothes with him.

  The housekeeper, Mrs. Whiteley, was waiting for her in a different room from the one into which she had been shown when she had first arrived.

  This was in another part of The Castle and
she was sure it had been decorated later and was certainly not only very comfortable but very beautiful.

  There was a painted ceiling and instead of the heavy carved Medieval bed she had seen before, there was a four-poster, carved and gilded, with curtains of Boucher blue trimmed with gold and silver fringes.

  “What a lovely room!” she exclaimed.

  “I thought you’d think so, my Lady,” Mrs. Whiteley replied. “It has been decorated in the last two years by her Ladyship, who I suppose now I should refer to as ‘Her Grace’.”

  “I expect you mean the late Duke’s daughter-in-law,” Pandia said.

  “That’s right, my Lady. The Marquis and her Ladyship are in Australia at the moment, which is why they couldn’t get home for the funeral. We look forward to their return and there’ll be very many improvements made in The Castle after that.”

  Looking round the room and remembering the contrast between this and Lady Anne’s room, Pandia could understand there was a great deal to be done.

  Now, as she moved towards the dressing table, she said,

  “I am afraid you will have to find me a nightgown to wear tonight, as naturally I had no idea I should have to stay.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that, my Lady, and it’s no problem,” Mrs. Whiteley replied. “Her Ladyship left everything here when she went to Australia and as you are about the right size, although a trifle thinner, I wondered if you would like to borrow one of her gowns to wear for dinner this evening?”

  The housekeeper spoke a little nervously as if she felt Pandia might be insulted at the suggestion, but instead she replied eagerly,

  “Could I do that? I was just thinking how disappointing it would be to have to wear a day gown while I eat what is sure to be a delicious meal.”

  “I’ll bring some gowns for your inspection, my Lady,” Mrs Whiteley said. “It’ll be quite like old times to have a lady to dress for dinner. Lady Anne always dines alone in her boudoir.”

  “How long have the new Duke and Duchess been away?” Pandia asked.

  “Nearly a year, my Lady, but now they are on their way home and should be back in a month’s time.”

  It was then, as Pandia started to undress, that her bath was brought into the room and set down in front of the fire, in the way her mother had always described.