Seeking Love

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Seeking Love Page 11

by Barbara Cartland


  “There you are, miss. I returned from my walk and could not find you anywhere. I was out of my mind with worry. Oh, Sir Peter, what are you doing here?”

  “Your Mistress sent me a signal from a damsel in distress,” answered Sir Peter laughing.

  “Ellen, Sir Peter has offered to accompany us to Biarritz –”

  Ellen shot Marina a look that told her that she thought that it would not be a wise decision.

  Coughing to hide her embarrassment, Marina made her excuses and rose to leave.

  “Would you do me the honour of having dinner with me tonight?” asked Sir Peter. “That is, if you are not occupied elsewhere.”

  “I would like that very much, thank you,” accepted Marina, trying to ignore Ellen’s cross expression.

  “I have taken a suite in the hotel so I will be close by. Now, if you will excuse me, I must register before I lose my suite.”

  “Come along, miss,” urged Ellen, in a tone that told Marina that she disapproved.

  “Until eight o’clock, then?” said Sir Peter. “I will meet you downstairs in the reception area.”

  Marina nodded and blushed to the roots of her hair. Ellen had not spoken to her in such a way since she was small.

  Later, in their suite, Ellen remonstrated with Marina. “You cannot allow Sir Peter to waste his time like this.

  Besides, you hardly know him.”

  “He is a gentleman, Ellen, and that is all I need to know,” replied Marina defensively.

  “But you know nothing of him and his people,”

  countered Ellen.

  “Now you sound just like Papa,” said Marina, suppressing a smile. “That is exactly what he would say.”

  “Well, miss, someone has to look out for you.”

  “And I am very grateful, Ellen. But I feel as if I can trust Sir Peter. He has come to help me at his own expense.

  Besides, I have not yet said yes to him and have you forgotten that we cannot go back to England? We need to find the Solanges and we cannot do that on our own.”

  Ellen sulked for the rest of the afternoon and it was only when Marina suggested that she might like to accompany her to a dress shop across the street that Ellen began to thaw out.

  “I cannot have dinner with Sir Peter wearing my mourning clothes – and what is more, I don’t intend to,” she declared, as they walked into the shop.

  “Miss,” cried Ellen, throwing her hands up to her face in shock. “What would your Papa –”

  “Papa is not here and furthermore, he does not care. Mama would definitely not want me to wear that tired black silk to dinner with an eligible young gentleman and so I have decided that for tonight at least, I will not be wearing mourning.”

  Marina enjoyed watching the mannequins model dresses for her and Ellen tried her best to persuade her Mistress to order at least a lavender or grey dress.

  “I rather like this one,” said Marina, eyeing a gorgeous cream-silk gown that was being worn by a young girl with colouring very similar to hers.

  “Miss. You cannot,” protested Ellen.

  “I can and I will!” replied Marina, before ordering the dress.

  Back at the hotel, Marina sent a telegram to her father,

  requesting that he send funds urgently to a bank in Paris. By the time she arrived back in her suite, she had to begin to get ready for the evening.

  Ellen said barely a word as she tried to do Marina’s hair in the French style, as Marie had done. But it was a complicated style and Ellen took forever.

  “It is a shame that you lost your pearls in the robbery,” sighed Ellen, “now, where is that lavender silk shawl we brought with us? It is the only thing you have that will go with that dress!”

  Ellen rummaged around in the chest of drawers, humming to herself and then her hum became a cry of joy.

  “Miss. Look!”

  Between her fingers she held a delicate string of pearls.

  “Somehow, they must have got tangled up in the shawl the last time you wore it and so the thieves did not find them.”

  Marina felt that it was a sign from Heaven itself. It was as if her Mama was letting her know that she approved of what she was doing.

  “Oh, Ellen. Bring them here, quickly.”

  Ellen fastened them around Marina’s slender neck and stood back to admire her.

  “You look a picture, miss. Even if you are wicked taking off your mourning – but I do think that your dear Mama would be very proud of you.”

  Marina laughed with joy as she regarded her reflection in the mirror. It was true that the pearls really set off her complexion and complemented the dress so well.

  She cast a look at the clock on the mantelpiece and saw that it was almost time for her to leave. She was to meet Sir Peter downstairs in ten minutes.

  Taking one last look in the mirror, she could not help but stroke the pearls.

  ‘My lucky charms,’ she thought, as she swept out of the room.

  *

  Almost as soon as the lift doors opened, Sir Peter sprang towards her, an expression of rapt appreciation on his face.

  “The carriage is waiting,” was all he said, but Marina could tell without his comment that she had made a deep impression upon him.

  “Where are we dining?” she asked, as the horses drove along the boulevard.

  “A business acquaintance of mine has always recommended this particular restaurant, but this is the first time that I have found someone who deserved to be taken there,” he answered with a charming smile.

  Marina could feel his warmth next to her and it made her quite dizzy. She found herself longing to sit even closer to him.

  She wondered if he might take her hand as they trotted through Paris and, as he spoke, she watched his lips and wished that he might kiss her.

  By the time that they arrived at the restaurant, Marina had the distinct sense of deja-vu. Was it not, on an evening such as this that Simon had sat close to her in a carriage and had eyes only for her? Did she not, in her foolish way, believe that he was about to at least declare his love for her and maybe even propose?

  ‘Papa was forever telling me that I had a too-vivid imagination,’ she told herself. ‘I do not know where these silly romantic notions come from every time a man pays me some attention, but it is foolhardy of me and immature.’

  “Is something wrong?”

  Marina was shocked out of her thoughts by Sir Peter’s mellifluous voice.

  “No, not at all, thank you.”

  “You are looking quite cross at something and I wondered if perhaps the carriage had jolted you too much. I must confess that was not the smoothest ride I have ever had.”

  Marina felt embarrassed.

  ‘If only my face did not show my inner thoughts,’ she scolded herself, as she tried to force a smile. ‘Now, he will think me ill-tempered and ungracious.’

  “Really,” she insisted, “I am perfectly well.”

  Sir Peter did not press her further. He simply offered her his arm as they entered the restaurant.

  If Marina had thought that the Saint Georges was wonderful, then Les Trois Collines was even more luxurious.

  She was dazzled by the glare from so many diamonds on so many necks and arms and she was glad that she had overridden her conscience to throw off her dowdy mourning.

  As they were shown to their table, she caught a number of appreciative glances both from men and women and it made her feel more confident. She was proud too of having such a charming companion.

  “I do hope you will enjoy dining here,” said Sir Peter, betraying a slight hint of nervousness.

  The menu was quite bewildering all in French and in a hand that made Marina’s eyes spin. Sensing her confusion, Sir Peter suggested,

  “If you wish, I can order for you, as long as you let me know what you do not care for.”

  “Thank you. I am not partial to veal or pork, but adore most other dishes.”

  “Then it will be lobster to start, followe
d by fillets of beef in red wine,” declared Sir Peter, snapping the menu shut.

  He clicked his fingers and a waiter appeared. Marina liked the way he ordered the food in beautiful French. Although not a brash man, he was certainly confident and that appealed to her.

  ‘I ate lobster with Simon,’ she thought to herself, almost nostalgically. Marina was quite surprised at the emotion the thought evoked in her.

  The wine waiter hurried over and Sir Peter ordered champagne. Turning to Marina, his smile froze on his face as he saw her downcast expression.

  “Is there something wrong?” he asked anxiously. “Are you feeling unwell?”

  Marina blushed to the roots of her hair and felt quite embarrassed that she had been caught with a sad demeanour.

  “No, not at all.”

  “But you looked so sad,” he persisted. “If you are unhappy with what I have ordered or the restaurant, then you must tell me and we shall go elsewhere.”

  “I confess that I am a little overwhelmed by everything,” she replied after a pause. “If I was still in London, convention would not allow me to be seen in such a place and I would still be in mourning.”

  “Of course, I understand,” he answered, looking visibly relieved.

  Marina wanted to say that she had also wanted to look beautiful for him, but was not certain that it was wise. She quite astonished herself for even thinking it.

  The lobster arrived and she allowed Sir Peter to crack the claws for her. It was delicious – more delicious than anything she had ever tasted.

  They chatted a little about Paris and then Sir Peter broached the subject of why she was here.

  “I still cannot believe that your Papa would send you away.”

  “If Mama is up in Heaven, looking down upon us, she is probably horrified too,” responded Marina, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin.

  “If you had done something terrible, it would be more understandable, but I cannot imagine that you would ever be anything other than a most dutiful daughter.”

  “Thank you. I tried my best to look after him after Mama died, but he was so distraught, all he did was push me away.”

  “That is sometimes the way of men and I confess that I laid the path for my own heartbreak by doing very much the same.”

  Marina put down her fork and looked at him searchingly. She remained silent and waited for him to continue.

  “After my father died, I pushed away those I loved. As you may have heard, I was engaged to a young lady and I confess I was guilty of neglecting her. Six months after father passed away, she broke the engagement and immediately married a family friend.”

  His face took on a pained look as he stared into his plate of lobster shells.

  “There were some who had said from the outset that she was not good enough for me and I was not the first to whom she had been engaged, but I did not want to believe what I thought to be idle gossip. In the long run, however, she showed her true colours.”

  Marina was so moved by his speech that she laid her gloved hand over his for a second in a gesture of sympathy. Even though she had not been through the heartbreak of a broken engagement, she felt an empathy with him. For had her own heart not broken when her Mama had died?

  “But enough of such talk,” exclaimed Sir Peter, smiling at her. “I wanted you to know the truth from me before you took notice of vicious, wagging tongues. There are many in London and in Paris who seek to make mischief by spreading stories and I wanted you to know what really happened.”

  “Thank you, replied Marina, a little taken aback. She did not seek to share her confidences with Sir Peter, however, as what was there to tell? A stupid fascination with Albert that was almost school-girlish and her belief that Simon’s easy flattery was more than that.

  The lull in the conversation became drawn out and Marina tried to think of a subject that would not be difficult for either of them, but Sir Peter jumped in first.

  “Marina, have you thought any more about allowing me to accompany you to Biarritz?”

  She was so grateful that he had not forgotten that she could not help feeling relief. Even so, she made a show of polite reluctance.

  “I am still considering your kind offer,” she said, quietly.

  “Of course,” he replied, a little deflated. “But, I cannot possibly allow you two to go alone, as although it is a popular resort, it is still full of rogues and ne’er-do-wells who would pounce on you with hard-luck stories.”

  “I am certain we could manage on our own,” said Marina, lowering her eyes.

  “Well, there is no hurry. I can make some enquiries amongst my acquaintances. There must be one who supplies wine to the Solange Biarritz residence.

  Sir Peter raised his glass of champagne.

  “To you, Marina, and to finding the Solanges, whatever you decide.”

  Marina took up hers in response and clinked it with Sir Peter’s. All the while, her mind was running riot. She did not know how she felt about seeing Simon again – it could prove quite embarrassing.

  *

  The band struck up at midnight and Marina could not refuse when Sir Peter asked her to dance. He whirled her around the room in an elegant waltz that made her head spin. She never felt so happy as when she was in his strong arms – in fact, she did not want the evening to end.

  They danced until she felt she could not take one more step and then Sir Peter called for a carriage.

  As he helped her with her wrap, she felt his hand brush her arm and it sent a spark deep down inside that thrilled her to her core.

  ‘I must not allow myself to be carried away,’ she thought, as he helped her into the carriage. ‘I must remember that an evening such as this with Simon encouraged foolish thoughts and I must be wary of it happening again.’

  Even so, as they sat close together in the carriage, she could feel herself wanting to edge nearer.

  It was a wrench for her to leave his side when they arrived back at the hotel. He escorted her to her suite and politely bade her goodnight.

  Marina had hoped for a kiss, even one on the cheek, but Sir Peter had simply bowed after thanking her for such an enjoyable evening.

  She opened the suite door, half hoping that he would return and take her in his arms, but as she heard his footsteps die away, she knew that he would not.

  “Oh, miss.”

  In the dark, Marina had stepped on Ellen’s toe. The maid had been waiting for her behind the door and had surprised her.

  Ellen lit the oil lamp and held it up to Marina’s face. “You look as if you have had a good evening, miss.”

  “Yes,” sighed Marina, sinking down into a chair and taking off her evening slippers, “it was wonderful!”

  “And?”

  Marina gave Ellen a puzzled look. “And what, Ellen?”

  The maid cast her eyes up to Heaven and tutted loudly. “Miss, you do not think I waited up till this hour for you not to tell me everything, now, did you? Did Sir Peter kiss you?”

  “Ellen!” cried Marina in a shocked tone. “He is a friend and no more.”

  “Oh, yes, and you go throwing off your mourning willy-nilly for a man who is only a friend?”

  Marina blushed and was glad that it was too dark for Ellen to see her face. There was very little that her maid missed – she knew her far too well.

  “No, he did not kiss me,” admitted Marina, after a while, “and I confess that I am a little disappointed that he did not attempt so much as a peck on the cheek.”

  “Well, Sir Peter is a gentleman, miss. He’s not forward and French.”

  Marina knew that Ellen was referring to Simon and it annoyed her to be reminded of him.

  ‘Yes, he is,’ thought Marina, as she climbed into bed,

  ‘so, why in my heart do I wish that he had not been quite so proper towards me?’

  Quite shocked at her own train of thought, she lay awake for hours. Should she allow him to go with them to Biarritz? Should she find her own way? All these thou
ghts and more kept her sleepless almost until the first light of dawn came stealing in through the curtains.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Ellen let Marina stay in bed until long into the following morning. Sir Peter called at the suite at half-past nine and Ellen sent him away, saying that her Mistress was still sleeping.

  “Please tell Miss Fullerton that I am going to visit some of my French colleagues this morning to find out where the Solange’s residence in Biarritz might be,” he whispered through the half-open door.

  Ellen gave him a long look that left him in no doubt whatsoever that she was appraising his character and simply nodded her assent.

  She closed the door and then tiptoed towards Marina’s bed.

  ‘Ah, but she’s a pretty lass,’ she murmured under her breath, ‘and I can see that I will have to be vigilant if we are going to Biarritz with Sir Peter.’

  Ellen knew what her Mistress’s decision would be even before Marina knew it herself and she had no idea that Ellen had promised her Mama to always keep an eye on her.

  “Marina has such a tender heart and she offers it too readily,” she had said to her, when Marina was just a child. “You must promise me, Ellen, that you will save her from herself.”

  Ellen intended to do just that as she had seen how hurt her Mistress had been by Simon Solange and his empty flirting, and she wanted to make sure that Sir Peter Bailey was not about to break Marina’s heart.

  *

  After a late breakfast, Marina felt the need for some fresh air.

  She took the news that Sir Peter was making enquiries on her behalf without comment. As Ellen casually relayed his message, Marina could not prevent her heart from leaping just a fraction.

  “He could be very useful to us, miss,” said Ellen. “Yes, I know, Ellen. But I am not certain that it is seemly for us to take Sir Peter up on his offer.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Just because –“ answered Marina, uncertain in her own mind what her objections might be.

  “Are you thinking about Simon Solange, miss? Is that what is stopping you?”

  “You are correct, Ellen,” she admitted. “I am somewhat bruised by what occurred between myself and Simon, but I have to take responsibility for my own part in it.”

 

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