Love at the Tower

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by Barbara Cartland




  LOVE AT THE TOWER

  BARBARA CARTLAND

  www.barbaracartland.com

  Copyright © 2009 by Cartland Promotions

  First published on the internet in March 2009 by Barbaracartland.com

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanically, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval, without the prior permission in writing from the publisher.

  eBook conversion by M-Y Books

  LOVE AT THE TOWER

  They both laughed and Robina caught something in his eyes that told her he had more to say.

  “But that is not the reason I have asked you here,” the Earl added.

  Robina stayed silent, although inside her thoughts were far from still.

  She felt nervous and uneasy.

  “Robina,” the Earl continued slowly, enfolding her hands with his hands. “I have been thinking of nothing but you for these past few days and I must tell you that I am utterly in love with you.

  “That appalling business with Ellis has only served to compound what I was already feeling. If I am honest, I have loved you since we were children together and I am not a man to hold back when I have made my mind up, so I would be honoured if you will agree to be my wife.”

  Robina stood there with the wind blowing through her hair and the Earl holding onto her hands.

  She looked into eyes that were so full of love that she could scarcely meet his gaze and did not know how to answer him.

  “Please, Robina, what do you say to me?” he asked, pleadingly, his blue eyes willing her to open up her heart to him.

  A heart that at that very moment was wracked with confusion and astonishment.

  THE BARBARA CARTLAND PINK COLLECTION

  Barbara Cartland was the most prolific bestselling author in the history of the world. She was frequently in the Guinness Book of Records for writing more books in a year than any other living author. In fact her most amazing literary feat was when her publishers asked for more Barbara Cartland romances, she doubled her output from 10 books a year to over 20 books a year, when she was 77.

  She went on writing continuously at this rate for 20 years and wrote her last book at the age of 97, thus completing 400 books between the ages of 77 and 97.

  Her publishers finally could not keep up with this phenomenal output, so at her death she left 160 unpublished manuscripts, something again that no other author has ever achieved.

  Now the exciting news is that these 160 original unpublished Barbara Cartland books are ready for publication and they will be published by Barbaracartland.com exclusively on the internet, as the web is the best possible way to reach so many Barbara Cartland readers around the world.

  The 160 books will be published monthly and will be numbered in sequence.

  The series is called the Pink Collection as a tribute to Barbara Cartland whose favourite colour was pink and it became very much her trademark over the years.

  The Barbara Cartland Pink Collection is published only on the internet. Log on to www.barbaracartland.com to find out how you can purchase the books monthly as they are published, and take out a subscription that will ensure that all subsequent editions are delivered to you by mail order to your home.

  If you do not have access to a computer you can write for information about the Pink Collection to the following address :

  Barbara Cartland.com Ltd.

  240 High Road,

  Harrow Weald,

  Harrow

  HA3 7BB

  United Kingdom.

  Telephone & fax: +44 (0)20 8863 2520

  Titles in this series

  These titles are currently available for download. For more information please see the Where to buy page at the end of this book.

  1. The Cross Of Love

  2. Love In The Highlands

  3. Love Finds The Way

  4. The Castle Of Love

  5. Love Is Triumphant

  6. Stars In The Sky

  7. The Ship Of Love

  8. A Dangerous Disguise

  9. Love Became Theirs

  10. Love Drives In

  11. Sailing To Love

  12. The Star Of Love

  13. Music Is The Soul Of Love

  14. Love In The East

  15. Theirs To Eternity

  16. A Paradise On Earth

  17. Love Wins In Berlin

  18. In Search Of Love

  19. Love Rescues Rosanna

  20. A Heart In Heaven

  21. The House Of Happiness

  22. Royalty Defeated By Love

  23. The White Witch

  24. They Sought Love

  25. Love Is The Reason For Living

  26. They Found Their Way To Heaven

  27. Learning To Love

  28. Journey To Happiness

  29. A Kiss In The Desert

  30. The Heart Of Love

  31. The Richness Of Love

  32. For Ever And Ever

  33. An Unexpected Love

  34. Saved By An Angel

  35. Touching The Stars

  36. Seeking Love

  37. Journey To Love

  38. The Importance Of Love

  39. Love By The Lake

  40. A Dream Come True

  41. The King Without A Heart

  42. The Waters Of Love

  43. Danger To The Duke

  44. A Perfect Way To Heaven

  45. Follow Your Heart

  46. In Hiding

  47. Rivals For Love

  48. A Kiss From The Heart

  49. Lovers In London

  50. This Way To Heaven

  51. A Princess Prays

  52. Mine For Ever

  53. The Earl's Revenge

  54. Love at The Tower

  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.

  Although she is often referred to as the ‘Queen of Romance’, Barbara Cartland also wrote several historical biographies, six autobiographies and numerous theatrical plays as well as books on life, love, health and cookery. Becoming one of Britain's most popular media personalities and dressed in her trademark pink, Barbara spoke on radio and television about social and political issues, as well as making many public appearances.

  In 1991 she became a Dame of the Order of the British Empire for her contribution to literature and her work for humanitarian and charitable causes.

  Known for her glamour, style, and vitality Barbara Cartland became a legend in her own lifetime. Best remembered for her wonderful romantic novels and loved by millions of readers worldwide, her books remain treasured for their heroic heroes, plucky heroines
and traditional values. But above all, it was Barbara Cartland’s overriding belief in the positive power of love to help, heal and improve the quality of life for everyone that made her truly unique.

  “Love is the same for everybody – it is sublime, ethereal and heavenly – whether you live in a castle or a cottage.”

  Barbara Cartland

  CHAPTER ONE

  1897

  Robina Melville stared out of the carriage window and sighed. The sun was setting over the green countryside as she sped towards her Surrey home in Lucksham.

  Seated beside her was Nanny – an elderly lady who had brought up her mother as well as Robina.

  But Robina’s mother was no longer with her. She had died the previous year and so distraught was her father that he had sent Robina to stay with friends in France.

  “It is for the best, Robina, my dear,” he had said to her on the day he had called her into the library at the rear of the huge rambling building that was Trentham House.

  How she had shed copious tears as he had sat there at his desk, almost impassively telling her that he wished to be alone and that he had written to his friends in Paris, the Lamonts, asking them to take Robina in as a guest.

  “But I don’t want to go to France – my place is here with you,” she had protested with even more tears running down her lovely face.

  At the age of twenty-one, she had known so much sorrow, far too much for one so young.

  Her beloved Mama’s long illness had taken its toll on everyone concerned.

  At first the doctors had said it was merely a chill in her stomach that had made her double up in agony one day whilst playing tennis. But then a swelling in her stomach grew and it became apparent to everyone that this was not a chill at all.

  Robina’s father had sent for a specialist doctor from Switzerland and for a short time her mother had seemed to rally round and improve.

  But despite massive doctor’s bills and a medicine chest that groaned with pills and potions, herb tinctures and poultices, she grew worse.

  Robina could recall the day that she collapsed and retired to bed, never to get up again.

  It had been a fine June afternoon and a garden party was being held in the gardens of Trentham House.

  “You must put on your best dress today,” Nanny had said to her, “your Mama will surely want you to look as attractive as possible for her guests.”

  Robina proudly admired the white lawn dress with lovely Nottingham lace on the bodice and cuffs. She had travelled all the way up to London to have it made at her Mama’s dressmakers, which had been such an exciting treat.

  Pulling on the gown, she wondered what cook had in store for them. She was famous throughout the County for her cakes and pastries.

  “Do you think that there will be any young people of my own age present?” she had asked Nanny, who was busily putting Robina’s hair up into an elegant French knot before carefully pinning her new summer hat on top.

  “I would think so, dear,” Nanny had answered through a mouthful of pins. “After all it’s a very special occasion.”

  “I just hope that Mama is feeling better today, she did look terribly pale at dinner last night.”

  “She will be as right as rain, Robina – you must not worry so about her. This doctor from Switzerland seems to have worked miracles.”

  “But she hardly ate anything at dinner – ” sighed Robina, unable to stop herself admiring her reflection in the mirror despite her concern.

  “Your Mama has never had a large appetite, which is why she still boasts the same slender waist she had as a girl. Now, come along, Robina, your Mama and Papa will want you downstairs to greet their guests as they arrive.”

  Robina ran downstairs and saw that their footman was already showing people into the garden.

  Walking past a rose-covered arch, she noticed that her mother was chatting to a large group of people.

  ‘How pale she looks,’ she thought to herself.

  As she approached, her mother turned and smiled.

  “Darling, do come and join us – Lord Hampton was just telling us about his son Robert’s exploits in India.”

  The old man’s face lit up as Robina walked across the lawn towards them.

  “Robina, my dear, how lovely you look,” he said, and almost immediately began to cough.

  Lady Melville signalled to Newman to bring a glass of water. The Earl was bright red in the face as he gulped it down.

  “You will have to excuse me, my dear, but I fear I am not as well as I could be. Those blasted doctors know nothing and cannot help me!”

  Robina looked on in dismay as he struggled to compose himself.

  She had known the Earl since childhood and as a girl had played with his sons, Robert and Ellis.

  Robert, the elder of the two brothers, was in India with his Regiment and she had not seen him for ages – not since he was sent away to Eton in fact.

  After Eton he had gone to the Royal Military College at Sandhurst and from there, had been sent on a Commission to India.

  Robina had often wondered how he was.

  She could remember him as a tall plain boy who was incredibly fond of horses, as she was herself, and who was forever getting his brother, Ellis, out of trouble.

  Ellis had been born bad and looking for trouble she reckoned and had not been seen locally for some time.

  Ellis, it seemed, was in London.

  Lord Hampton finished the water and then snapped his fingers. Almost immediately his manservant was by his side.

  “Fetch the carriage, Brocklehurst, we are returning to the Castle.”

  The Castle!

  Robina longed to be asked to see it, but had heard from gossip that it was a shadow of its former self. The ageing Earl had not the time nor the money for it and it was said that its once-magnificent Tower was crumbling.

  “You have to leave us so soon?” her mother was saying with a concerned look, “but you have barely had a chance to tell Robina about Robert’s adventures in India.”

  “I am sorry, Lady Melville, but once this coughing comes upon me, I need to retire.”

  They watched as the Earl was helped away.

  “Poor man!” sighed her mother, “he really is very unwell.”

  “And you, Mama – you are looking pale. I noticed it yesterday evening.”

  Robina took her mother’s arm and looked into her grey-green eyes searchingly. It seemed as if the light had been extinguished in them. All her pain was visibly etched on her face.

  “I am fine, my darling,” she answered with a smile, “you must not concern yourself unduly.”

  Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, a look of agonising pain crumpled her features.

  “Mama?”

  But she did not answer. She simply clutched at her stomach and folded in two.

  “Is everything all right?”

  It was Robina’s father. He had been watching his wife closely all day and his eyes had not left her face for a second.

  Upon seeing her wince, he had rushed to her side.

  “I must insist that you retire at once, Pamela.”

  “No, no, I shall be fine in a moment. My guests – I must see to my guests.”

  Once again her face contorted in agony as the pain shot through her.

  Robina could not help but start to cry.

  ‘I must not allow Mama to see I am upset. I must not,’ she said to herself as she turned away.

  But the pain became too much and, eventually, Mama had been taken up to her room and the doctor called.

  Robina was told by her father to remain downstairs and talk to the guests, but even as she laughed and smiled with them, she wished she was by her mother’s side.

  The party had come to an early end as the guests, sensitive to the plight of their hostess, drifted off before the sun set.

  After Robina had said goodbye to the last one, she ran upstairs to be with her mother.

  The grave look on her
father’s face had told her all.

  “Darling, now you will need to be very brave, your mother is never going to recover. The doctor has found a tumour in her stomach and they cannot operate.”

  At that moment Robina’s world had fallen apart.

  From that time on her dear mother was bedridden and the regular routine of nurses and doctors became a part of everyday life at Trentham House.

  Robina gave up her studies and devoted herself to caring for her mother as best she could.

  She was at her bedside when she died, holding her hand as the poor woman gasped for breath.

  Robina cried as if her heart would break.

  Nothing had prepared her for the complete and utter desolation she felt as her mother lay back on the pillow, still and lifeless.

  *

  But that was just a year ago and now Robina found herself returning to Trentham House in the family phaeton.

  She sighed again as she huddled closer to Nanny.

  They had now been travelling for over an hour and she noticed that Nanny had not said much about the house or her father, so finally she broached the subject.

  “Nanny, how is Papa?”

  “As I said before, he is much better than he was.”

  “And the house? Is it just the same? I cannot wait to see it again.”

  Nanny hesitated and could not meet Robina’s eye. She gazed out of the window even though it was now dark, and seemed to consider her words carefully.

  “There have been many changes at the house,” she said finally, “but you will find everything in good order.”

  There was a weighty silence as the carriage rattled along the road.

  It was the same one that Robina had travelled in on her way to France, although she could see that the interior had since been re-upholstered and the door handles were all brand new.

  “Papa has been spending his money, I can see – ” she remarked, hoping it might draw Nanny out of her shell, but the old woman remained silent.

  ‘There is something much amiss here,’ she thought, ‘when I left for France, I commented about the state of the phaeton and Papa had said that it was not worth the money to refurbish! Usually, when Papa makes his mind up about something, he does not easily change it.’

 

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