Love in the Ruins

by Barbara Cartland

  She knew when the Duke did not answer that he had already thought of that possibility.

  They were in darkness except for a few chinks of light coming from places in the wall where the stonework had been damaged. There was also a hole in the roof from which tiles had fallen.

  “It’s – dangerous! I know – it’s – dangerous!” Mimosa exclaimed.

  The Duke looked around him as if trying to find something that they could sit on.

  It was then that Mimosa gave another cry.

  “Papa told me,” she said, “that there are steps by which the Priests – climbed up from below onto the platform of the Temple.”

  The Duke understood at once.

  He picked Mimosa up in his arms and walked to a corner of the chamber.

  She could just make out in the dim light that there were the remains of what had been steps rising up to the roof.

  The Duke put her down and she said looking up,

  “I can see at – the top there is – a hole that must have been – a way out. I will – climb up and – look.”

  “You had better let me do that,” the Duke suggested.

  As he spoke, a piece of masonry came away under Mimosa’s hand.

  “I am lighter than you,” she said, “and the steps are crumbling – away. Let me – go first.”

  She could feel rather than see her way.

  She climbed very slowly while the Duke stood below, ready to catch her if she fell.

  Small pieces of stone from the steps broke away and dropped down, but she reached the top safely.

  There had been, she saw, quite a large aperture at one time.

  However one of the Corinthian capitals had fallen from its pillar halfway across it.

  It gave her something to hold on to and she looked out cautiously.

  She realised immediately how high she was above the forum.

  It was then that she saw sitting on the bottom steps of the great staircase leading up to the Temple four of the men who had abducted them.

  She guessed that the fifth had gone in search of the Master whoever he might be.

  They had built themselves a small fire and were now preparing something to eat.

  Mimosa thought that the light from the flames was comforting to them now that it was only a short time before dusk.

  It was then that she had an idea.

  She crept slowly backwards and began the descent back into the chamber.

  As soon as she reached him, the Duke lifted her down so that now she was beside him.

  “What is happening?” he asked.

  “Four of the men are preparing food for themselves at the bottom of the staircase and the other – has presumably gone to fetch the Master. But I have an idea! I know how superstitious the Tunisians are and – they are well aware that this is a – sacred place.”

  “What do you intend to do?” the Duke asked.

  “I am going to try to frighten them,” she answered.

  As she spoke, she began to undo her gown, which she fastened down the front.

  The Duke could hardly see her in the darkness.

  But he was aware of what she was doing and waited in surprise until she slipped her gown off completely.

  Underneath it she was wearing a stiff white bust-bodice and it fitted closely over a tightly laced corset such as was worn by every woman.

  Beneath the full skirt of her gown she had on a white satin petticoat. It had belonged to Minerva, and was trimmed with rows of lace.

  The important thing for Mimosa’s plan was that all her clothing now was white.

  She released the pins from her hair so that it fell down her back.

  “Follow me up, if you can,” she said, “but join me only – if they run away. Otherwise I will come back for you.”

  “For God’s sake,” the Duke urged, “take care of yourself! I feel I am wrong in letting you do this. If only I had a weapon of some sort!”

  “I shall be – all right,” Mimosa said, “and perhaps I can save – both of us.”

  She looked up at him.

  For one moment he could see by the now faint light coming through a chink in the masonry that her eyes were pleading with him.

  She was begging him to understand and her lips were close to his.

  Instinctively the Duke put his arms round her, bent his head and kissed her.

  For a moment Mimosa was completely still in astonishment.

  Then, as his lips took possession of hers, she felt as if she melted into him.

  There was a sudden streak of ecstasy in her breast that she had never felt before.

  Everything else was forgotten.

  That they were prisoners, that there were men outside who menaced them and that there were snakes that might kill them.

  All she could think of was the wonder of the Duke’s kiss.

  She had never thought of it before, but suddenly she knew that she loved him.

  The Duke raised his head.

  Without thinking, Mimosa whispered,

  “I – always thought a – kiss would be – as wonderful as that!”

  Then she turned and started to climb again up the steps.

  The Duke followed her as she disappeared round the fallen Corinthian capital onto the platform above the steps.

  For a moment she stood there.

  Then, as the men below were suddenly aware of her, they turned their heads.

  Mimosa raised her arms.

  Speaking in Arabic she began,

  “This is the sacred Temple of Jupiter, King of the Gods! You trespass here and insult his dignity and his holiness by your presence and the evil you are planning. He sends me as his messenger to curse you, your wives and your children now and for all future generations. The wrath of the Lord Jupiter will pursue you and you will never be free of this curse in punishment for what you have done and what you plan to do!”

  Her voice rang out and seemed to echo over the abandoned City.

  Pointing down to the men below, she went on,

  “Go! Go now, before he destroys you and you lie dead here in the place that is sacred to the great God!”

  Before she could finish the last words the four men had all jumped up and were running as fast as they could go.

  There was no doubt that they were terror-struck.

  They stumbled over the broken stones and debris until they disappeared from her sight.

  Only their small fire remained, flickering in a faint breeze that had just sprung up.

  Mimosa gave a little sigh as the Duke joined her.

  “You were marvellous, absolutely magnificent!” he said. “Come, let’s get away from here as quickly as we can!”

  He led the way down the great steps from the platform to ground level, only stopping at the bottom to pick up a gun.

  It had been left behind by one of their kidnappers in his haste to get away.

  They turned towards the path that they had come on.

  As they did so, a man came riding up it on horseback.

  He was a large man.

  As Mimosa looked at him, hoping that he was somebody who had come to help them, she saw that he had a black mask over his face.

  It reminded her of the highwaymen in England who used to hold up rich travellers on the road.

  When he saw the Duke and Mimosa, he drew in his horse.

  “Stop!” he commanded. “Stop or I will kill you!”

  He pulled a revolver from his belt as he spoke.

  Before he had it completely free, however, the Duke fired the gun he had picked up near the fire.

  He was not even sure it was loaded, but it was and the Duke was a very good shot.

  The man on the horse received the bullet right through his heart.

  With an unpleasant sound he dropped his revolver and fell from his horse to the ground.

  It had all happened almost instantaneously.

  Mimosa could only stand paralysed by the shock and horror of it.

  Then t
he Duke reached out and took her hand.

  “Hurry!” he said. “It would be a mistake to linger here in case the other men come back.”

  He spoke calmly and somehow it helped her to think clearly.

  Because they were taking the same path the man on the horse had come up on, they had to pass close to him.

  He was lying on the ground, while his horse had moved away. His hat had fallen off and his mask had dropped below his chin.

  As Mimosa took a quick look at him, she knew at once who he was.

  Monsieur Charlot.

  The Duke did not stop, but walked quickly down the incline towards their camp.

  He was relieved to see when they reached it that the horses were still there.

  But there was no sign of their attendants.

  “They have run away!” the Duke said. “Or else they were in league with those wretches who tried to kidnap us!”

  “What – shall we – do?” Mimosa asked.

  “Leave as quickly as we can,” the Duke answered sharply.

  The horses had been unsaddled and their bridles removed, but their legs had been hobbled so that they could not go far and they were cropping what little grass there was.

  The Duke found the saddles where they had been placed near by.

  He put one on the horse that Mimosa had ridden.

  Quickly she went inside the tent that she had slept in last night.

  She put on the white blouse and her riding skirt in which she had travelled the day before.

  It took her only a few minutes, but by the time she went back to the Duke her horse was saddled and bridled and he was now coping with his own horse.

  He stopped for a moment to lift Mimosa onto her saddle.

  Then he released the ropes round the horses’ legs.

  In only a very few minutes they were riding away from the camp and there was still no sign of their attendants.

  They had ridden for nearly an hour before Mimosa drew in her horse and said to the Duke,

  “What about the men we employed? Will they be all right?”

  “They can look after themselves,” he answered. “They should have protected us from those criminals and I intend when we reach Tunis to report them for negligence. At the same time I shall report the death of the man I killed.”

  Mimosa was silent for a moment.

  Then she said in a small voice,

  “I-I know – who he – is.”

  The Duke looked at her in surprise.

  “You recognised him?”

  Mimosa nodded.

  “He is – a Monsieur Charlot.”

  “How is it that you know him?”

  “H-he – was – trying to – blackmail me!”

  The Duke was so astonished that for a moment he did not speak.

  Then he asked,

  “Blackmail you? For what?”

  Too late Mimosa wished that she had not admitted knowing the dead man.

  It had been such an enormous shock to her.

  She had forgotten that the Duke should not know about him or what he was threatening to reveal to the Comte’s wife.

  “That I – cannot tell – you,” she responded after a moment.

  The Duke smiled reassuringly at her.

  “It is of no importance,” he said, “and we will talk about it later. All that matters now is that we should get back safely. And that matters very much indeed.”

  He put out his hand as he spoke and Mimosa, riding beside him, gave him hers.

  She found the hard pressure of his fingers very comforting.

  “Let me tell you,” the Duke said quietly, “that I think you are utterly and completely magnificent! No other woman could have been as brave or as wonderful as you!”

  Mimosa blushed.

  They rode on fast and in silence.

  The daylight was by now fading, but she knew that the Duke was anxious to take her away from danger.

  ‘I love him!’ she thought. ‘I love him – but he must – never know it!’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  They rode until the Duke became aware that Mimosa was exhausted.

  She was very pale and he saw that she was swaying in the saddle.

  It was then, at the end of a village, that he saw a Mosque.

  It was only a very small one, but the Duke drew up outside it and gave Mimosa his reins to hold.

  By this time the stars were fading rapidly and it would be only a little while before the dawn broke.

  The Duke fortunately saw a man coming out of a cottage on his way to work.

  He spoke to him and asked where the Imam of the Mosque lived.

  The man pointed to a house just a short distance away from the Mosque.

  The Duke walked to the door and, after he had knocked on it for some minutes, it was opened by an elderly man. He had obviously been awoken by the noise.

  The Duke explained in a mixture of Arabic, in which he was not as fluent as Mimosa, and French what he required.

  He also explained how they were hurrying away from Thuburbo Maius because they had been attacked by robbers.

  The Imam made an exclamation of disgust and told him that he could bring his wife into the house.

  The Duke had realised that all Moslems were very particular about the purity of their women and the Imam would be shocked at the idea of his travelling alone with a young woman he was not married to.

  He therefore had made it quite clear that it was his wife he was concerned about.

  He hurried back to where Mimosa was holding the two horses.

  As he reached her, he noticed a boy of about fifteen standing watching them. He beckoned to him and, when he came, told him to hold the horses.

  The Duke then lifted Mimosa down from the saddle.

  He did not put her on the ground because he was sure she was incapable of walking.

  Instead he carried her into the house where the Imam was waiting at the door.

  They were led into a room that was small and obviously kept for guests.

  It was sparsely furnished. There was a divan raised about six inches from the floor on which lay several cushions.

  There was also a praying mat and one chair.

  The Duke put Mimosa gently down on the divan.

  As he did so, he said softly in English,

  “I must go to see to the horses. If the Imam should speak to you, I have told him you are my wife.”

  He saw Mimosa’s eyes widen.

  Then he hurried from the room and was relieved because the Imam followed him.

  When they reached the door, the Imam told him that there was a stable at the back of the house.

  The Duke found the stable and put the horses into two empty stalls.

  He took off their saddles and bridles with the help of the boy, whom he tipped and thanked.

  It all took a little time and then he returned to the house and found that the door was ajar.

  The Imam was nowhere to be seen and he assumed that he must have gone back to his bed.

  The Duke walked back into the room where he had left Mimosa.

  He was not surprised to find her fast asleep and the Imam had left a candle burning on the table.

  By the light of it the Duke could see that she had turned her face, like a child, against the pillow.

  Her hands were tucked under her cheek.

  She looked very lovely, very young, and very innocent.

  The Duke stood looking at her for quite some time and then he gently took off her shoes.

  He next removed his boots and lay down on the divan beside her.

  She did not stir and he realised that she was sleeping the sleep of utter exhaustion.

  He was aware that what she had done to disturb and terrify the kidnappers must have cost her a tremendous effort.

  At the same time she had been very frightened in case she was not successful and instead of running away they attacked her.

  The Duke blew out the candle and there was a slight twist to
his lips as he did so.

  He was thinking that, if his friends were told that he was lying beside the most beautiful girl he had ever seen without touching her, they would not believe it.

  Resolutely the Duke forced himself to make his mind a blank and try to sleep.

  *

  Mimosa awoke with a start.

  As the sun was pouring through the window, she realised at once that it was late in the morning.

  For a moment she could not think where she was.

  As she looked round the small room, the memory of what had happened the day before came flooding back to her.

  The last thing she remembered was the Duke carrying her into this house.

  She wondered where he was now.

  She turned over and was suddenly aware that the other half of the divan where she had slept was ruffled and there was an indentation in a cushion beside her head.

  Had he really slept beside her, she wondered, and blushed at the thought.

  It seemed impossible.

  And yet everything that had happened since she came to Tunis had been incredible!

  She sat up and saw her shoes put neatly together on the floor and she knew that the Duke must have removed them for her.

  She was blushing again as she stood up from the divan.

  There was a mirror on the wall hanging between two pictures. She looked into it and was horrified at the untidiness of her hair.

  She tried to smooth it into place and to fasten it with the few pins that she had left.

  She opened the door of the room hoping to find somewhere to wash. It was not difficult, for almost next door was a sink with a large jug standing in it filled with water.

  She washed her face and hands and found a towel to dry herself with.

  Then she decided to explore further.

  She had not far to go, as just across the narrow hall she could hear voices.

  When she opened the door, she found the Duke and the Imam sitting at a table having a meal.

  They rose as she entered.

  The Imam said in French,

  “Bonjour, mademoiselle, I hope you have slept well.”

  “I am very grateful to you,” Mimosa replied. “I was so tired, I don’t think I could have gone another inch further!”

  The Imam smiled and pulled out a chair for her to sit on.

  “Have something to eat,” the Duke said. “His Reverence is exceedingly kind in allowing us to join him at his midday meal.”