Journey to love

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Journey to love Page 5

by Barbara Cartland


  He was aware as he spoke that she stiffened and it surprised him.

  “My name,” Shana replied in what he thought was a cold voice, “is Davis.”

  “Then perhaps you can tell me, Miss Davis,” the Marquis quizzed her, “why, in the middle of Hertfordshire, you are able to speak Italian so fluently that you could understand every word these two men were saying to each other.”

  Shana had thought of an answer to this question before she arrived.

  “I am a teacher, my Lord, and only happened to be in the Rose and Crown by chance when Mrs. Grimes hurt her leg.”

  She crossed her fingers as she spoke.

  She was telling a lie and it was something she never did, although she thought her explanation was quite a clever one.

  It would also prevent the Marquis from being surprised if he visited the Rose and Crown and found she was not there.

  Almost as if he was reading her thoughts, he asked,

  “Are you thinking of leaving the village in the next few days?”

  “I might do,” Shana answered.

  “Then I hope you will leave an address where I can find you. I might just want a little more information than you have given me already.”

  “I have told you everything of importance.”

  “One can never be sure until one can put a puzzle together and it could be fatal to find two or three vital pieces of information were missing.”

  “If I do leave, though I see no reason for it,” Shana murmured, “Bob Grimes will know where to find me. But I can assure you, my Lord, there is nothing more I can do. I can only hope you will be on your guard tonight and that no one will be hurt.”

  “That is what I am hoping myself and I must thank you again, Miss Davis, for coming here and warning me.”

  The Marquis paused before he said in a different tone,

  “I can assure you I shall take more care of my silver and treasures in the future than I have done in the past.”

  “That is sensible,” Shana said approvingly. “I only hope for your Lordship’s sake that no one will know what has occurred. It might make other burglars decide to visit the Hall for what they can get out of it.”

  “I know you are telling me once again there should be no talk or gossip about this plot and I promise you I shall do my very best to make sure your wishes are carried out.”

  The way he spoke made Shana realise that he thought there was something personal in her desire for there to be no scandal.

  She moved towards the door and as she did so she thought he was more perceptive than she had expected.

  She had an uncomfortable feeling that if she stayed with him much longer he would read her thoughts or know instinctively what she was thinking.

  “How did you travel here?” the Marquis enquired as she reached the door.

  “I borrowed a chaise,” Shana replied, “and I left it in the stable yard in the charge of one of your grooms.”

  “Then I will have it brought round to the front door.”

  Shana was about to protest and then she realised he would consider it polite to see her leave. He would not wish to go through the kitchen quarters himself.

  They walked in silence through the long corridors which led to the hall, where Dawkins was on duty with two footmen.

  The Marquis sent one of them to the stables.

  “Tell them,” he ordered, “to bring Miss Davis’s chaise round to the front of the house immediately.”

  Shana thought it was fortunate that she had not brought one of her father’s grooms with her as he would have thought it strange that she was using a different name.

  While they were waiting she moved out of the open doorway onto the steps which led down to the courtyard outside.

  The view of the lake and the park was incredibly beautiful and she thought how lucky the Marquis was to own anything so superb and sublimely lovely.

  “I am exceedingly grateful,” he said to her.

  Shana turned and looked at him in astonishment.

  “You are reading my thoughts.”

  “I knew that was what you were thinking. It is something I can do with some people, but to be honest I do not usually find their thoughts are particularly interesting.”

  “These thoughts of mine of course were special because they concerned you.”

  The Marquis’s eyes twinkled.

  “Now you are accusing me of being conceited.”

  “You have a great deal to be conceited about. I think the Hall, the garden, the lake, the park, and of course the woods are more beautiful than anyone could imagine or dream about.”

  She spoke as she would have talked to her father and she did not see the look of surprise come into the Marquis’s eyes.

  “One day,” he said, “you must see the inside of the house and I think you will find it as wonderful as I do.”

  “I noticed the furniture and the pictures as I came to your study,” Shana replied. “I think such a collection is a great tribute to the good taste of your ancestors. It would have been so easy for them just to buy what was in fashion at the time. But I know from what I have seen that they chose what was outstanding for any age.”

  “That is a compliment I have not been paid about the Hall ever before and it is one of the best and something I shall always remember.”

  “Then of course you must be very careful,” Shana said, “to make sure that your own contribution is just as important.”

  She was now watching the approach of her chaise and she missed the look of incredulity spreading over the Marquis’s face.

  The groom leading her horse drew it to a standstill and when she walked down the steps the Marquis followed her.

  “Thank you once again and I will try to let you know what happens without anyone else knowing.”

  Shana did not answer. She just smiled at him as she climbed into the driving seat, thanked the groom and drove off.

  She had no idea that the Marquis was watching her until she was out of sight.

  He noticed how well she drove and there was something experienced and expert about her he had seldom seen before in a woman.

  Then he strode back into the house to make his plans for the evening.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Shana heard nothing from the Marquis on Sunday.

  When she went to Church she prayed that the burglars had been prevented from taking anything, better still, that they had not turned up at all.

  If that had happened, the Marquis would think she had invented the whole story! And if they had made the attempt, she felt sure that the story was bound to leak out. It would be a piece of gossip the village would really enjoy.

  She next expected to hear from him on Monday, but Monday came and went and there was still no news from the Hall.

  She chose to go riding early in the morning and found the woods were, as always, calming, but at the same time inspiring.

  She always felt as she rode underneath the trees that they were telling her stories of the past and yet they themselves were vitally alive.

  Ever since she had been a child Shana had been attracted by the woods and she remembered when she was very small running away to cry amongst the trees because her nanny had been cross with her.

  She was certain there would soon be a note from the Marquis and when there was nothing, she thought he was extremely rude.

  He must be aware she was anxious, but then she told herself he was not likely, being so important, to be concerned about what the cook at the Rose and Crown felt or did not feel.

  ‘The sooner I forget this whole episode,’ she told herself firmly, ‘the better.’

  Shana sent food to Mrs. Grimes on Sunday and again on Monday, but she did not go to the Rose and Crown herself.

  Somehow she felt that perhaps the window in the passage had deceived her and she was half-afraid that the Marquis suspected she was using a new way to get to know him, making up a story which would intrigue him.

  To try and forget what ha
d happened, she worked very hard on the research for her father’s book. He was going back so many years and had visited so many countries and he wanted to be accurate in everything he wrote in his autobiography.

  He insisted on every detail being checked and so far Shana had looked through the history books in the library covering France, Italy, Spain and Germany, but she knew there were other countries her father wanted to write about, the most important being Greece.

  She therefore spent a long time with the books on Greece to check what he was saying was accurate, when he wrote of his feelings when he first saw the Acropolis and visited Delphi.

  He had done so much and had met so many interesting people whose family trees had to be looked into.

  Shana began to think he would be the first person in the world to write his autobiography in three volumes!

  It was all very absorbing and she knew when her father returned he would be delighted by what she had done.

  Because she found it all so interesting, Shana went to bed very late and the next morning she overslept.

  Rose, the maid who looked after her, brought in her breakfast when she rang at ten o’clock.

  “We were worried as to what had happened to you, miss,” she said. “It ain’t like you to sleep as late as this.”

  “I know,” Shana replied yawning, “but I went to bed long after midnight.”

  “You’ll ruin your eyes pouring over them books,” Rose admonished her.

  “I do hope not,” Shana smiled. “At the moment I find my eyes very useful and there is a great deal more for them to do.”

  It was a lovely day and she thought she would go riding again, so she sent a message to the stables.

  When she had put on her habit she decided to go there herself.

  There were quite a number of horses being paraded in the yard for her to choose from and finally she chose a bay which she had not ridden for some time. He was one of her father’s favourite mounts, but he was very spirited and, as Shana knew, in need of exercise.

  She galloped for a long time before the stallion was prepared to settle down and go quietly.

  She rode for quite a long way, before realising that if she did not turn back she would be late for luncheon, although it would not matter particularly.

  She always told Mrs. Baker, the cook, to give her a very simple meal when she was alone.

  “I can’t have you starvin’ yourself, Miss Shana,” Mrs. Baker had said the last time she made such a suggestion.

  Shana realised now that, whatever she might have said, Mrs. Baker would have cooked her something delicious.

  She therefore turned her horse round and rode back the way she had come, pushing him as hard as she could.

  Nevertheless it was half-past one as she rode into the stable yard.

  “We was wonderin’ what’d happened to yer, Miss Shana,” the groom remarked when she arrived.

  “I was giving Hercules the exercise he has been lacking now my father is away.”

  She walked from the stables into the house and found Baker, the butler, who was married to the cook and was also worrying about her.

  Because she knew luncheon was ready she walked straight into the dining room without taking off her habit.

  As she had expected, Mrs. Baker had provided an excellent meal, in fact there was far more than she really wanted to eat.

  She had just finished a cup of coffee when Baker came in to say,

  “There’s that girl Winnie from the Rose and Crown, Miss Shana, who says she wants to speak to you urgently.”

  Shana put down her cup and rose to her feet.

  “Bring her to the study. I hope she does not bring bad news of Mrs. Grimes.”

  She was well aware that Baker, who liked to know everything, was becoming curious.

  Why had Winnie come to the house at such an unusual time and what was her message about?

  Shana reached the study first and a few moments later Baker opened the door to say,

  “Here’s Winnie, Miss Shana.”

  Winnie came in looking frightened and Shana could tell that she had been running, as she was still a little breathless and her hair all blown about. She had come just as she was in her gingham dress with an apron over it.

  Shana waited until the door closed behind Baker.

  Then she said in a low voice in case the butler was listening,

  “What has happened? What have you come to tell me?” Winnie seemed to grunt before she replied,

  “It be ’is Lordship, ’e’s arrived and ’e wants to see you quick.”

  “What did Mr. Grimes say to him?”

  “’E says you was with friends but ’e’d get in touch with you.”

  “So Bob sent you.”

  “’E tells I to run as fast as me legs’d carry me,” Winnie said, “and to tell you to come real fast.”

  Shana wondered what could have happened, but realised she could not go to the Rose and Crown dressed in her riding-habit.

  “Now you walk back, Winnie, and it is very kind of you to come and tell me I am wanted. I may catch you up, but if not tell Bob I will be as quick as I can.”

  “I understands, miss, and Mr. Grimes said I was not to say where you was or who you was.”

  “That is quite right,” Shana affirmed. “And you are not to tell my butler, my cook or anyone else in this house why I am wanted. Let them think Mrs. Grimes needs me because she is feeling ill.”

  “’Er were ever so pleased with the food you sent ‘er.” Winnie volunteered.

  “I am so glad. Now go back to the Rose and Crown and remember what I have just said.”

  She was walking towards the door as she spoke and when she opened it, she was not surprised to see that Baker was not far away, not very obviously waiting to see Winnie out.

  As Shana walked past him she said,

  “Mrs. Grimes wants to see me and it will be quicker if I walk to the Rose and Crown rather than wait for the grooms to bring a chaise round.”

  She did not wait for Baker to reply but ran up the stairs to her bedroom where she changed as quickly as she could into the same plain dress she had worn before.

  Then she hurried downstairs, putting on her hat as she did so.

  She sped out of the front door and down the steps and could see Winnie in the distance halfway down the drive. She caught up with her just as they entered the village.

  “You’ve been quick, miss,” Winnie commented.

  “So have you,” Shana replied. “Thank you very much for coming to tell me I was wanted.”

  “Mr. Grimes were all of a dither when ’is Lordship walks in and when ’e tells I to ’urry ’e means ’urry!”

  Shana laughed although it was quite difficult to do so when they were both walking so quickly.

  It seemed to her the village green had never been so heavy beneath her feet, nor the Rose and Crown so far. She walked in through the front door as it would have taken longer to walk round to the back.

  Bob had obviously been looking out for her and met her as soon as she passed through the door.

  “His Lordship be in the dining room,” he told her. “There be no one there and ’e wants to talk to you right away.”

  He was obviously consumed with curiosity as to what it could all be about.

  Shana just smiled at him and walked into the dining room and Bob closed the door behind her.

  She noticed that the Marquis was sitting at the far end of the room where the Italians had been seated.

  He rose as she entered to greet her.

  “I am sorry to disturb you, Miss Davis, but it was important for me to see you at once.”

  Shana walked towards him and said,

  “I think we would be wise to sit at the other end of the room. There is the window through which I heard the Italians talking.”

  She pointed it out as she spoke and she now noticed that it was quite difficult to see that it was indeed a window from inside the dining room. There was a sill in f
ront of it on which Bob or his wife had placed a pot of ferns and two china ornaments and unless one looked very closely, the window behind was not obvious.

  The Marquis looked to where Shana was pointing and told her,

  “We certainly do not want to be overheard. Where do you suggest we sit?”

  Shana indicated a table by the large window which looked out over the village green. It was opposite the main door into the dining room.

  Bob had closed it and she was quite certain he would not be listening to their conversation.

  She sat down as did the Marquis.

  “What has happened, my Lord?”

  “So much,” the Marquis said, “that I hardly know where to begin.”

  “You mean they came to the Hall on Saturday night?”

  “They came, but despite all your warnings it was a disaster.”

  Shana stared at him.

  “How could it have been? What happened?”

  “I took Dawkins into my confidence,” the Marquis told her, “and we knew it would be impossible for him to tell the footmen that he knew one of them had been bribed to let in the burglars.”

  “I can quite understand that, my Lord, if you were not certain which one it was.”

  “I was suspicious of a young man I have employed for only a short time, but at the same time I could not ask any questions.”

  “No, or course not,” Shana agreed.

  “Dawkins and I”, the Marquis continued, “therefore recruited three of the men from the stables who we were quite certain we could trust.”

  The Marquis paused and Shana realised that he was trying to explain to her every detail of what had occurred.

  “We expected that they would enter the house, as you had heard the Italians say, by one of the windows, and we thought it would be one on the ground floor.”

  “And it was not?”

  “The Italians had done their research well. There was a small amount of work being done at the far end of the West wing where one of the gutters was being replaced and the workmen had erected scaffolding.”

  Shana drew in her breath.

  “So they came in through one of the upstairs windows.”

 

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