A Heart in Heaven

by Barbara Cartland

“Because you are going to be a great lady and marry a man with a lot of money.”

  “Perhaps. But I would not care about money if I loved him and – and he loved me.”

  She was suddenly awkward. It was as though the word ‘love’ had made a blush come all over her. She did not know why. But it seemed to have something to do with Roderick, watching her out of his dark, intense eyes.

  “Besides,” she added hurriedly, “back there, you spoke of money as though you despised it and the people who possess it.”

  “I only despise the love of money,” he responded gravely. “I have seen the terrible things that it can do to innocent people, how greedy and grasping they can become.”

  “You don’t think I am like that?” she asked anxiously.

  He smiled.

  “No, you are sweet and kind.”

  “I wasn’t very sweet and kind to you in the stable last night,” she admitted.

  “I startled you. It was my fault and I am sorry. Are you very bruised this morning?”

  “No,” she said hurriedly, “no, I am perfectly well, thank you. With his eyes on her she did not want to think about the way he had held her thinly clad body so close to his own strong hard one.

  But then she knew she was deceiving herself. She did want to think about it.

  She wanted not merely to think about it, but to dwell on the thought, reliving it, enjoying it.

  It was shameless, immodest, unmaidenly, but she could not help herself.

  She tried to look away from Roderick, but her eyes seemed drawn to him of their own accord, and in his eyes she saw a look that she guessed mirrored her own.

  He too was remembering, reliving and telling himself that it was forbidden, but unable to stop.

  She forced herself to change the subject.

  “I wonder why farmer Adams left that plough behind the wall,” she mused. “It never used to be there.”

  “Farmer Adams has gone,” Blake said. “When he fell behind with the rent, Lord Westbridge gave him notice and put a new man in at a higher rent.”

  “What a terrible, hard-hearted thing to do!”

  “I warned you that things had changed since you went away. You should take more care. I will not always be there to watch over you.”

  “Oh, but you must be,” Louisa urged eagerly. “When I marry, I shall tell my husband that I want you to continue as my groom. Wouldn’t you like that?”

  He hesitated. Louisa felt that he was considering thoughts he could not reveal.

  “I should like to come with you very much,” he replied at last. “But – I don’t think I can.”

  She was about to ask him why. But something in his expression made her look quickly away. Her heart was beating faster.

  Mrs Birley’s granddaughter, Jane, came over with a large mug of tea for Blake. Louisa noticed how the girl lingered and smiled at him.

  He was such a very handsome man. No doubt there were many girls trying to attract his attention.

  ‘But why should I care?’ Louisa asked herself.

  Some children came into the Tea Shop. They were laughing and their arms were filled with holly.

  One little girl was the daughter of one of Lord Hatton’s tenants. She greeted Louisa eagerly.

  “Oh, Miss Hatton, it’s so nice to see you home again.”

  “Hello , Sally. It’s very nice to be back, especially with Christmas so near. I see you are getting ready.”

  “Yes, we’ve been collecting holly and berries for the Church. And there’s going to be a big party in the Church Hall for the poor children. Mr Blake is helping us arrange it. He has been very kind.”

  “I’ll help you collect more berries soon,” Blake promised. “Did you find any mistletoe?”

  The child looked sad,

  “Yes, but it’s on Lord Westbridge’s land and he won’t let us pick it.”

  “Shame on him!” exclaimed Blake. He rose from the table. “I will wait for you outside, miss.”

  He had become a formal servant again and Louisa was disappointed.

  ‘Yet how could it be otherwise?’ she asked herself.

  The children were eager to talk to her and tell her all the rumours about Cranford Manor and its new occupant.

  “He’s a wizard,” Sally confided in a theatrical whisper, “and he’s the richest man in the world, so they say, because all he has to do is wave his magic wand to make money.”

  “Really? Would ‘they’ be your grandmother by any chance?” Louisa laughed.

  “She says only black magic could explain how he makes enormous amounts of money out of nothing. She says Cranford Manor is a magic palace.”

  ‘Evidently,’ Louisa thought, ‘Lord Westbridge has made a great impression in the district.’

  At last it was time for her to go. She called Kelly from under the table and walked out to where Blake was waiting for her with the horses.

  As they rode home she repeated what the child had told her.

  “Her grandmother is called ‘old Sal’,” she explained. “She ‘sees’ things and is rumoured to be a witch!”

  “Poor soul!”

  “Not at all. She goes out of her way to cultivate the reputation. That way people keep giving her little gifts – cakes, a bottle of wine or two. And every so often she has a ‘vision’, just to keep everyone interested.”

  Louisa chuckled with sudden memory.

  “A couple of years ago she told me that when I met my future husband, he would be wearing a mask. The following week we had a Christmas party at home with everyone in fancy dress. Some of them wore masks and I went round peering closely into their faces. But they were all too old or unattractive.”

  “Who knows?” Blake said in a strange voice. “It may happen yet. There is more than one kind of mask.”

  They rode home by a different route, one that took them across the estate attached to Cranford Manor.

  “I remember coming to the house once, when I was a very little girl,” Louisa said. “My parents were visiting Lord Cranford, who owned it then. I wandered off into the grounds and got lost.

  “I was so frightened and I cried. But then a boy appeared and was kind to me. I think he must have been the gardener’s lad. He dried my tears and gave me an apple.”

  “And you rubbed the apple on your dress,” said Blake, “and became upset because it left a mark.”

  Louisa turned her head to find him smiling at her.

  “It was you!” she cried.

  They laughed together.

  “To think of you remembering me after all this time,” he teased.

  “I never forget anyone who has been kind to me,” Louisa replied simply.

  “But you did forget,” he reminded her. “You didn’t recognise me.”

  “But you have changed so much in thirteen years.”

  “Not as much as you have. But I knew you at once. I would have known you anywhere.”

  They rode on. Louisa felt happy to have found her friend again. All her other friends had been young girls, like herself. But this was a new and exciting kind of friendship.

  “Were you there when old Lord Cranford passed away?” she asked.

  He was silent for so long that she turned to look at him.

  “Yes,” he said shortly at last. “I was with him with he died.”

  “What happened? What misfortune drove him out?”

  He was silent again before he said,

  “It is a long story, miss. I would rather not talk about it.”

  “Have I upset you? I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know. It’s just that I loved that place and – and Lord Cranford. To see it falling into disrepair and to think of his lonely end is terrible.”

  “But he was not completely alone,” she said impulsively. “He had you and if you were really fond of him you must have been a great comfort.”

  “Thank you for saying that, miss. I like to think I made it a little easier for him.

  “I am sure you did,�
� she said sympathetically, moved by the sadness in his face. “It’s all so terrible. A couple of years ago I was out riding by myself and I was tempted to go to the manor and see what it was like.

  “I have never seen anything so sad. The grounds were overgrown and choked with weeds. The house itself seemed to be crumbling.

  “I managed to scramble in through a window that was falling off its hinges and look around inside. It was ghostly, everything covered in dust and so silent.”

  “You should not have done that alone,” he said. “Suppose you had been hurt and nobody knew where you were.”

  “I know, it was foolish of me. Mama was very cross when I returned home with dusty clothes and told her where I had been.

  “She said I was a tomboy who did not know how to behave like a lady. Soon after that incident I was sent to finishing school.”

  “And do you know how to behave like a lady now?” he enquired with a smile.

  “But of course. I am a perfect lady at all times!”

  He did not answer in words, but allowed his raised eyebrows to comment for him. They laughed together.

  “I don’t know if Lord Westbridge is as fearsome as I have been told,” she ventured, “but if he is really restoring Cranford Manor to its former glory, that is one thing to be said in his favour. Don’t you think?”

  To her surprise, he did not answer and when she turned to look at him she saw that a stony look had settled over his face.

  “I could not say, I am sure, miss. Perhaps we should be getting on. It’s turning chilly.”

  Suddenly she stopped.

  “Look at that oak over there. It has mistletoe. I wan to pick some for the children.”

  “It’s too high up. Even I could not reach it.”

  “But I could, standing on your shoulders.”

  “Miss Hatton, I don’t think –”

  “Roderick, please obey me,” she ordered firmly.

  He gave her his knife and crouched down so that she could step onto his shoulder. Then he stood up carefully while she reached for the mistletoe.

  “What are you doing?”

  The cold, grating voice startled Louisa. She slipped, tried to grasp the tree and failed. The next moment she slithered down into Roderick’s arms.

  They both stared at the tall, dark man with the harsh face, who had appeared from nowhere. He sat there, astride his huge horse and glowered at them.

  Above him an oak towered, the branches directly above, so that their shade concealed the upper part of his face.

  As if he was wearing a mask –

  Roderick set her down and murmured softly.

  “This is Lord Westbridge.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Louisa hastily brushed down her riding skirt and approached Lord Westbridge.

  “Please forgive me,” she said, smiling. “I should not have picked your mistletoe without permission, but as you are a friend of my father –”

  “Who is your father?” he demanded curtly, not allowing her to finish.

  “Lord Hatton. I believed we are to have the pleasure of your company at dinner soon.”

  A change came over Lord Westbridge’s face. Temper vanished, replaced by pleasure, but it was a sly, distasteful kind of pleasure that made Louisa uneasy.

  He swung himself down from his horse.

  “So you are the Hatton filly, eh?” he grunted. “People told me you were pretty.” With insolent assurance he took her chin between his fingers and studied her. “They weren’t lying.”

  Disgusted, she only just resisted the temptation to jerk away. This kind of compliment was not at all to her taste, even if he had not breached all the rules of manners by touching her.

  There was a cold heaviness about this man that was ominous. He looked as though being unpleasant came naturally to him and that he enjoyed it.

  He was in his thirties, tall and lean, with regular features. He might have been attractive but for something disagreeably harsh in his manner.

  The thought reminded her of Roderick, who might be in trouble if Lord Westbridge told her father how he had found them. That would not be fair. In order to protect him she addressed him distantly.

  “Very well, Blake, you may fetch the horses. I am ready to go home now.”

  A low growl, almost a snarl, came from Kelly. He had crept up beside her and was staring at Lord Westbridge. A ridge of fur was raised on his back.

  “Hush, Kelly,” Louisa urged. She was embarrassed at the dog’s evident dislike.

  “Send your servant away,” Lord Westbridge ordered. “I would like to show you my house. Afterwards I will escort you home myself.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she replied politely.

  “I will wait for you, miss,” Roderick offered stubbornly.

  “Be off with you,” Lord Westbridge snapped.

  The groom did not move. He remained still, looking at Louisa, until she said,

  “You may leave, Blake. Please tell my parents where I am going.”

  “Very good, miss. Kelly.”

  Roderick mounted, snapped his fingers to summon the dog and galloped away.

  For a moment after he had left, Louisa felt very alone and vulnerable. But after all, how could Lord Westbridge hurt her?

  As Roderick had done, Lord Westbridge took her by the waist and tossed her up onto Firefly’s back, but to Louisa the contrast was stark.

  Despite his strength Roderick’s touch was gentle. Lord Westbrook threw her up roughly, so that she was made to seize the pommel to avoid falling. This man’s touch displeased her as much as his voice.

  Nevertheless she forced herself to seem cheerful in his company. On the way back to his house they made polite conversation and Louisa apologised again for picking his mistletoe.

  “It is for the Church, you see,” she explained.

  “My dear Miss Hatton, everything I own is at the Church’s disposal – and yours. And I have a very great deal to offer.”

  She became embarrassed. “Lord Westbridge I assure you –”

  “Nonsense, it is what you came to discover. Well, you shall discover everything you want to know.”

  This blunt manner of speaking was not at all to Louisa’s taste. “I think I should be going now –”

  But he laid a hand on her bridle, forcing her to stay. “Don’t start acting like a milk and water miss, because that annoys me. Look over there. I am restocking the deer herd.”

  She forced herself to ignore his insolent manner and the sight of deer roaming diverted her. Cranford Manor’s deer had once been prized and it was delightful to see them strolling through the misty light, peering shyly through the leaves.

  Soon the great house came into sight, a beautiful grey stone building whose origins extended far back into the fifteenth century, although the most recent wing had been added a hundred years ago.

  As they neared the house Louisa could see that a great deal of money had already been spent on it. It had suffered badly from neglect, but everywhere repairs had been made.

  There was a new roof and new windows and she could see extensive renovation going on inside.

  “Everyone is agog to know what you are doing at Cranford,” she said. “You are the talk of the County.”

  “You will be able to tell them all what I am doing,” he replied. “Come.”

  Memories of her secret visit two years ago came back to her as Lord Westbridge led her down a long corridor. It had been empty then, with pale patches on the walls where the pictures had been taken down.

  Now there were pictures again, but surely not the same ones as before? These were very valuable. After lessons at her finishing school, Louisa knew enough about art to recognise works by Van Dyke and Holbein and her awe grew.

  He led her into room after room, all of magnificent dimensions, all exquisitely furnished, until her head was spinning. When she had seen everything on the ground floor, he led her upstairs, along a corridor and into a room that made her gasp.

  It wa
s a very grand bedroom, dominated by a four poster bed, hung with gold curtains. There was more gold in the chandelier that hung from the cream and gold ceiling.

  “This is Lady Westbridge’s room,” he announced.

  “You – you mean your wife?”

  “Certainly I mean my wife – when she exists. It was designed to be appropriate for her.”

  “I see, but –” she attempted a teasing tone, “perhaps your wife might find this a little overwhelming and prefer to sleep somewhere less ornate.”

  Her teasing found no response. He gave her a hard look before saying,

  “She will sleep here, in a place appropriate to her status as Lady Westbridge. That is my will.”

  “But what about her will?” Louisa asked.

  “We should go down to the library, where I have ordered sherry and cakes.”

  He strode out, leaving her to follow him. It was clear that he was displeased at having his edicts questioned.

  As they walked downstairs he continued to discuss the house in an almost amiable voice, as though the conversation in the bedroom had never happened.

  And it had not, Louisa realised with a sudden moment of insight. He had not responded to her final question because he had decided to wipe the whole matter from his mind.

  She gave a faint shiver.

  “I pride myself that everything is being done properly,” he said as they seated themselves in the library. “I never tolerate half measures. I always know what I want. And I always get it!

  “This building once dominated the whole district,” he continued. “I intend that it shall do so again.”

  “Do you mean to dominate your neighbours too?” Louisa asked. “Isn’t it better to be friends with them?”

  “Of course I mean to live on good terms with my neighbours. But any community needs a leader.”

  “And you see yourself as that leader?” she asked, surprised by his confidence.

  “Of course.”

  She knew it was impolite to argue, but she could not resist saying,

  “There are several important families in this area. Suppose they do not accept you as their leader?”

  He gave a self assured smile.

  “My dear Miss Hatton! You are very young. You know nothing of the world. And that is as it should be.

  “But your ignorance, though charming, leads you to make false judgements. I could buy up any family in this district without noticing the cost. They will accept whatever I want them to.”