At that moment he felt very strongly that the unexpected was charming. What could be more unexpected than this vision? And what could be more charming?
He wondered why, if she was staying in the neighbourhood, he had not been invited to meet her. It was an unwritten law that if he, the Lord Lieutenant, or any other of the local gentry, had someone new or exciting visiting them, their nearest neighbours were automatically asked to dine and be introduced.
“Well, I suppose I should be going,” said the vision.
“So soon?” he protested. “When we have only just met?”
A moment ago he had been planning to order her off, but now nothing was further from his intentions.
“Well, you say I am trespassing,” she explained. “So perhaps I should hurry away before the owner finds me and has me arrested.”
“He would have to be very hard-hearted to do that,” said Charles.
“Really? Do you know him?”
“Very well.”
She regarded him with her head on one side. “I’ve heard that he’s a terrible man. Harsh and cruel?”
“Positively wicked,” he confirmed, his eyes dancing.
“Nobody dares cross him.”
“They regret it if they do,” Charles agreed.
“I think I had better go.”
“And I think I had better introduce myself,” said Charles, “before my character is completely ruined. Lord Hartley ma’am, at your service.”
She chuckled. “Now why didn’t it occur to me that’s who you might be.”
She offered him her hand and he enclosed it between both of his, laughing with her. It was like holding the hand of a fairy, he thought, a being from another world, sent to enchant him.
“I am Lady Cliona Locksley,” she said.
“Then your father was – ?”
“Lord Locksley. He died last year, and my mother the year before. Mama was the sister of Lady Arnfield and she and Sir Kenton invited me to stay with them.”
“Ah yes, I seem to recall him mentioning a niece who was to visit them soon,” said Charles, frowning.
“I wonder how he referred to me,” said Cliona impishly. “He didn’t by any chance call me ‘that wretched girl’?”
“No, I’m sure he didn’t.”
“But you can’t be certain?”
In fact Charles’s memory was vague because these days his troubles dominated his thoughts, so that sometimes he hardly heard what was said to him.
“Quite certain,” he said firmly. To change the difficult subject, he said, “How do your aunt and uncle feel about you riding about the countryside alone, without a groom to assist you?”
“Well,” she said in the manner of one making a confession, “they don’t really know.”
“Don’t really know?” he queried.
“They don’t know at all,” she confessed. “But when Uncle Kenton said that Pagan was mine to ride while I was here – well – I had to try him out.”
“Of course, but without a groom?”
“I did mean to take a groom. He got Pagan ready for me and helped me to mount, and then someone called him. He said, ‘Just a minute, miss,’ and – ” she shrugged with a smile as mischievous as a little girl who knew she had to be forgiven.
“When the poor fellow came back, you’d gone,” Charles finished.
“Yes, I suppose I had.”
“And what will happen to him?”
“Nothing, because I shall tell Uncle Kenton that he wasn’t to blame.”
“What happens when you want to remount?”
She gave him a sideways look. It occurred to Charles that all her life this charming creature had had people rushing to please her. Yet strangely it hadn’t spoilt her.
“Let me assist you,” he said.
After he had thrown her lightly up into the saddle and mounted Lightning, they began to walk their horses through the trees.
“So you are Lord Hartley,” she said. “They were talking about you at dinner last night, about all the things you’ve done for the county. They are obviously very proud of you.”
“I am delighted to hear such flattering remarks straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak,” said Charles.
“You mean straight from the mare’s mouth, don’t you?” she teased.
“I should never be so impolite, ma’am, as to call you a mare,” he said, rallying his wits.
“But then you’ve called me a horse,” she pointed out.
He was silent, looking at her imploringly. He was not used to young women who engaged him in a duel of wits, and left him with the alarming impression that he was coming off worse.
Seeing his confusion she relented. “I’m sorry for trespassing,” she said. “But with your land being next to Uncle Kenton’s, I’m afraid I was tempted.”
“You are very welcome and I hope you’ll come again.”
“I was not welcome when you first saw me. You scowled terribly.”
“My mind was on other things,” he said hastily. “I’m afraid I can be a bit of a bear sometimes.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said sweetly.
And suddenly, he did not believe it either.
“I really do hope you will come back to my land, and ride wherever you please,” he said.
“How lovely. I’ve never been to this part of England before and I find it fascinating.”
“Then let me show you some more of it. If you’d like to ride a little further on, you will see the best place to bathe. I’ve always enjoyed swimming there. Not only is it warm, as it is at the moment, but I have the whole place to myself.”
“All to yourself,” she echoed eagerly. “Yes, that’s the best part. I’ve always longed to own a river of my own, where I can bathe without having a lot of people splashing about, or making it impossible for me to swim and – and – just dream.”
“And what do you dream about?”
“Oh, all sorts of wonderful things. Anything that’s – ” she seemed to struggle for the right words, “anything that’s out of this world.”
Charles raised his eyebrows.
“Is that what swimming means to you?” he asked. “A chance to escape from the troubles in the world?”
She nodded her head eagerly, so that the little feather on her charming hat fluttered.
“That’s exactly what I feel. But I’ve never met anyone else who felt the same. They all want to bounce around and make a noise, but what I want to enjoy is the ecstasy of being alone in the silver water and the golden sunshine.”
It was strange, almost uncanny, to find someone who echoed his own thoughts and feelings so closely.
“I think, at heart, we all want to feel that kind of peace,” he said, speaking hesitantly, for he wasn’t used to sharing his innermost thoughts with others. “But unfortunately most of us have troubles. Like you, I find it easier not to think about them when I’m bathing in the river, but they are still waiting for me when I get out.”
She nodded. “That’s true of course. But sometimes when the sun is as bright as today and the water is clear and reflecting only the sky, we can forget the world and be in a small heaven of our own.”
Charles stared at her, astonished and intrigued. He had never met a woman who had talked to him in such a way, as though the words came not from a light heart, but from a deep soul.
Of course, she might have been playing a part, something he suspected a lot of women did very easily, in order to confuse and baffle men. But he did not think so. He was quite certain that she was speaking the truth from the very depths of her being.
While they talked they had moved slowly along the side of the river. Now, just ahead of them, was the place where Charles had bathed. There were tall trees on both sides of the river, which meandered away, deeper into the wood, and kingcups flowering right down to the water’s edge.
“It is lovely, so lovely!” Cliona exclaimed. “How can it be so marvellous and not have hoards of people trespassing
?”
“They are too kind to me or too afraid of me,” Charles replied with a smile. “It is known as a special part of my grounds and I am proud to say I have very few trespassers.”
“Like me,” she said shyly. “I am sorry but they didn’t tell me that you do not allow people on your land. As the gate was open and it looked so entrancing, I just came in.”
“I should have been there to welcome you,” he said. “Now we’ve met I can only hope you will come again. Perhaps I’ll find you here tomorrow morning,”
“Is this the time you always ride?” Cliona asked.
“When I’m at home and of course when I have things to think about,” Charles replied. “I find nothing more peaceful or more helpful than this particular part of the river.”
“But you like to be alone here,” she said suddenly. “I’m right, aren’t I? This is your special place for being alone.”
He took some time to answer, because he had the feeling that it was vital to get his answer right. She was too important for meaningless words.
“Everyone has times when they want to be alone – usually when you can’t find an answer to a very difficult question,” he said at last.
Hearing his grave tone, Cliona knew that the problems that had brought him to the river this morning were not light ones.
“How can you be troubled in such a beautiful place?” she asked. “When they were talking about you at dinner last night, I was almost sure you were different from everyone else and you were almost supreme.”
“If, by supreme, you mean able to rise above the world’s cares,” he answered, “then no man is supreme in that sense. No matter how fortunate or happy we might seem, there are always snares in the undergrowth, waiting to pull us down, often when we least expect it.”
She looked at him with sympathy, but stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. After a while he said,
“We may hide our problems, but they stay with us until we find a way to solve them – if there is a way.”
He added the last words without meaning to. He had not intended to reveal his own suffering, but against his will it was there in his voice.
“The beauty of this place is only part of my world,” he added. “I cannot live here always. If only I could. Here I can escape, but only briefly.”
“I am so sorry,” she said gently. “It is easy for me to talk, but it isn’t easy for you, is it?”
“Sometimes there seems to be no sunshine at all,” he said heavily.
He wondered what had come over him to be having such a conversation with a stranger. Particularly a young girl whom he had only just met. He tried to pull himself together and change the subject.
But before he could do so, she said quietly,
“I will pray that whatever is wrong and upsetting you is drowned by this golden, glittering river, and that you find the real happiness and love you are seeking.”
The words came very softly and gently from her lips. It was as though she could look into his heart and read every despairing thought.
Charles stared at her in surprise. Then he said,
“Thank you. I only hope that what you have wished for me will happen.”
“I will pray for it,” she repeated fervently.
Gradually the trees were thinning and the river was leading them out into the fields.
Then, speaking lightly, as if she felt they had been too serious, she said,
“I’ll race you to the other end of the field and see if my horse is better than yours.”
Without waiting for a reply she started off riding swiftly. Watching her he saw that she was an excellent rider. Her horse was larger than most women would have chosen, but she handled him with easy confidence.
He did not have to tell Lightning that this was a race. As long as Charles had owned him he had never yet lost a race or failed to pass any other horse who challenged him. Now he broke into a gallop.
Soon they were going at a speed that left no doubt that this was a genuine race. And for once, he could not be certain of winning.
‘How many women could ride like this?’ he wondered in admiration.
On and on they galloped.
The end of the field was in sight. The two horses needed no encouragement to strive against each other. Only the appearance of a hedge forced them to a standstill.
A dead heat.
“That was wonderful!” she cried ecstatically. “I’ve never ridden so fast and your horse is magnificent.”
“I think you are an excellent rider,” Charles told her. “Neither of us can claim to be the winner.”
“No, that’s the wrong way to look at it,” she assured him.
“What should I have said?”
“We can both claim victory. That’s much better.”
“Yes, it is,” he said at once. “When I came out this morning, I was feeling very depressed. But you have cheered me up. Now I know that nobody has the right to be unhappy or worried in these beautiful surroundings.”
She nodded and he felt she understood him. The torment in his mind and the despair in his heart were clear to her without any further explanation.
And yet she was so young, not yet twenty, he guessed. He had never found young girls very interesting to talk to. They had not lived very long, and so understood little.
Now here was this unusual girl teaching him that what mattered were the instincts of the heart. There was something about her that made him feel safe, as though no problem on earth could be too difficult as long as she was beside him. Yet at the same time she was thrilling and irresistible.
“I’ll send an invitation to your uncle and aunt to bring you to dine at the castle,” he said.
“I should love that,” she said eagerly. “I can see your castle from my window and it looks so intriguing. Is it as exciting inside as outside?”
“I hope you will find it so, but I must warn you that one thing I’ve learned in life is that if you never expect more than is possible, you are never disappointed.”
But she shook her head eagerly. “No, I’m sure that’s wrong. You should always hope to find something unique, something you’ve never found before. Which means that you don’t have any expectations. That can be the best way.”
Charles laughed. “That is one way of looking at it,” he admitted. “I only hope you won’t be disappointed with my house, my dinner or me.”
She laughed. “You are asking a great deal,” she teased. “At the same time if I were to have a bet, I feel sure I wouldn’t lose it.”
“That is a compliment,” he answered with a smile. “I shall show you over the castle myself and I await your opinion with trepidation.”
As they talked the Lord Lieutenant’s house came into view and already they could see figures in the yard, regarding them with anxious interest. Cliona waved to them cheekily.
“I’ll leave you now to make your explanations,” Charles said wryly.
“And you will go back to your problems,” she said. “But please don’t worry. You will find the answer.”
“The answer?”
“To the terrible question that is tormenting you.” He stared at her. “But –”
“You think there is no answer, don’t you? But there is. Believe me, there is.”
“How on earth can you know?”
“I feel it,” Cliona replied. “I sometimes feel these things and nine times out of ten what I have felt is true.”
“What are you?” he asked abruptly. “A witch?”
“Well, if I am, I’m not a bad witch. Truly.”
“I believe you,” he said, speaking as if in a dream. “I can’t begin to imagine where you get your mysterious powers, but I believe they are good and kind.”
For a moment he was desperately tempted to tell her everything, to lay his woes before her and seek help from her generous spirit. But she was young and innocent and for all her wisdom, she could know little of the world. Such help was not for him.
“I
f my ‘mysterious powers’ can have any effect at all,” she said earnestly, “I will exert them all for you. And I pray that you may find the sunshine again. In fact, I am certain of it.”
She did not wait for him to reply, but spurred her horse on in the direction of the house.
The Earl watched her go, thinking it had been one of the most extraordinary and unusual conversations he had ever had with anyone, least of all a young lady.
‘She is unique, not like anyone else I have ever known,’ he said to himself as he turned Lightning for home.
All the way back to the castle he was brooding about Cliona. He rode into the stable yard, dismounted and let his groom take the horse and while he threw the man a pleasant word his thoughts were elsewhere.
‘Only an hour ago I didn’t even know she existed,’ he thought as he went into the hall. ‘Yet now I know that she is going to change my life – no, she has changed it. I can never be the same again.’
Then he stood still as a stunning thought occurred to him.
‘And nor do I want to be the same. Not ever. For the rest of my life.’
It was like the sun coming out, a glorious radiance flooding him as though Cliona had left her gift of sunshine with him.
He began to run and did not stop until he reached his mother’s apartment.
“Mama, how quickly can you arrange a dinner party?” he asked. “Tomorrow?”
“If absolutely necessary. It depends how important it is. Who will be coming?”
“The Arnfields and their visitor, a niece of Lady Arnfield I believe.”
Conscious of his mother’s shrewd eyes on him, he added casually, “I would not wish to be backward in my attention to our neighbours.”
“Is she pretty?” Lady Hester asked.
“Really Mama, I haven’t said I’ve met her –”
“I know, but is she pretty.”
Charles gave a shrug which he meant to seem devil-may-care, but which to his mother seemed steeped in guilt.
“Passable, I suppose,” he said casually.
‘She’s more than pretty,’ she thought.
Aloud she said, “Does she have any money?”
“I didn’t ask her,” Charles said, aghast. “Has it come to this? Must that be the first question in everyone’s mind?”
The Star of Love Page 4