Rescued by Love

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Rescued by Love Page 11

by Barbara Cartland


  “Of course I would like to see them,” he replied.

  “Then I will be pleased to show them to you, my Lord. At the same time they are not looking their best nor is anything else that I have brought with me which is quite a collection, simply because we have only just arrived in London and the house I have rented is full of dust. It will take some time to clean it up.”

  “That would not worry me,” Lord Campbell said. “So please be very kind and let me see your pictures before anyone else tries to grab them away from you.”

  “I had not thought of selling them,” Ivor responded. “But, as we cannot return to our home, I brought away with me everything that was easily portable.”

  “Why can you not return?” Lord Campbell asked.

  Ivor gave a deep sigh.

  “I think you would know the answer to that, my Lord. It was a question of saving the most precious things I possessed or having them taken away from me and, as far as we were concerned, being burnt to the ground.”

  Lord Campbell gave an exclamation,

  “I have heard what is happening in Russia but could not believe it to be true.”

  “Unfortunately it is,” Ivor replied, “and it will, of course, increase year after year. My sister and I, who are orphans, thought that it was wise to move while we could. But some of the objects we cherished had to be left behind and I regret to say that we will never see them again.”

  “It is certainly a sad story,” Lord Campbell said. “But please let me see your collection and advise you what to keep and what to part with.”

  Lord Campbell was clever enough, Weena thought, who was listening, to realise that they would contemplate parting with their possessions sooner or later.

  She was not surprised when her brother suggested,

  “Supposing, my Lord, you and your daughter have tea with us today. I expect you are going out this evening and I have a feeling that we might be doing the same. But if you don’t mind a certain amount of dust and discomfort, you will be the first to see what I have brought with me from Russia and advise me where I can go and have my pictures framed which is actually what I came to this shop for.”

  Lord Campbell grinned.

  “You cannot do better than to trust Simpson. If you do have something to sell in the future, I would like to be your first customer before Simpson sells it on for a good profit to his customers, who are always pleading for what they think is a snip.”

  Both men laughed at this.

  Mr. Simpson who had been listening smiled wanly.

  It was as if he now realised that as things were Lord Campbell could take away the cream of what was available while he was left with the worst.

  Lord Campbell then walked towards the door.

  Mavis held out her hand to Ivor.

  “I will look forward to seeing you this afternoon,” she said.

  “And I will be counting the minutes until I see you,” he replied.

  For a moment he held her hand in both of his.

  Then, as she glanced up into his eyes, she blushed and, turning round, hurried after her father.

  As the Proprietor bowed them out, Ivor whispered,

  “That was a bit of luck.”

  From the way that he spoke, Weena did not know whether he was speaking of meeting up with the beautiful Mavis again or interesting her father in his pictures.

  The Proprietor came back.

  “Lord Campbell sounds as though he is a very big collector,” Ivor said.

  “He is indeed, Your Highness,” Mr. Simpson then replied. “But he can well afford it seeing how rich he is.”

  “Is he rich?” Ivor asked.

  He spoke coolly as if he was not that interested.

  But Weena held her breath as Mr. Simpson replied,

  “They say he is the richest man in England. Made a fortune in shipping he has.”

  Ivor did not answer.

  He merely began to talk about the array of pictures in the shop.

  He also asked to see the frames he wanted for his pictures and how much they would cost.

  Weena was not listening.

  She was thinking that her brother had found the rich girl he was seeking even quicker than she had expected.

  He had found her very attractive last night and what more could he want than to be married to – if Mr. Simpson was to be believed – the daughter of the richest man in England.

  ‘It just cannot be true,’ she thought. ‘And yet if it is, my prayers have been answered and we are even luckier than we hoped to be.”

  She was thinking exactly the same when, after they had finished tea, they went up into the Gallery where Ivor had planned to hang his pictures.

  They had gone home after they had inspected the outstanding collection of pictures and endless objects d’art that Mr. Simpson had on display in his shop.

  Ivor had unpacked the pictures and arranged them on the tables and chairs in what they believed had once been a Picture Gallery.

  It was impossible to hang them without frames, but the way he had arranged them made them look attractive and intriguing.

  Weena was not surprised when Lord Campbell was impressed.

  “You have a fortune here, my boy,” he said to Ivor “and, if you have to sell them, don’t be taken for a mug.”

  “I have no wish to be,” Ivor replied. “You must understand that, as we could not bring anything more than we have with us, this is my entire capital, which will have to last my sister and me for a very long time.”

  “One thing I would like you to promise me,” Lord Campbell said, “is that, if you do decide to sell, which I am certain that you will sooner or later, you give me the first opportunity to buy.”

  There was silence for a moment.

  Then Ivor said,

  “Well, in point of fact, I was not thinking of selling anything yet, my Lord, as we have quite enough to live on for a little while, I think it is only fair that my sister should enjoy herself at the parties we are invited to. Of course she will want pretty dresses to wear and we both need good horses to ride.”

  It was then that Lord Campbell began to discuss with Ivor the price of two of the pictures he particularly wanted to add to his collection.

  Weena now thought that Ivor was being particularly clever to appear reluctant to part with anything.

  She and Mavis then went into another room where a number of letters had just arrived.

  Weena guessed that they were the invitations which had been promised them last night by some of the guests of Lady Carstairs who had told Ivor how fond they were of Prince Feodor.

  While she opened them, Mavis told her what she knew about the hostesses who had invited them.

  “Here is one for tonight,” Weena said. “Will you be there, Mavis?”

  “Yes, I am sure that is where we are going and I will look forward to dancing with your brother again.”

  “He was afraid that he would not see you again,” Weena remarked, “because he had been silly enough not to ask for your address.”

  Mavis laughed.

  “Why does he want such a large house, if there is only you and him?” she asked.

  Mavis had already said that her mother was dead and her father wanted to buy a house in the country as the one they had previously lived in was too small for him.

  Mavis laughed and continued,

  “Papa likes everything he owns to be bigger than anyone else’s. When you see the vast number of books and pieces of china he has collected we really need a place as huge as Buckingham Palace to put them all in! And Ivor is just the same.”

  The two girls giggled.

  Weena was then aware that she liked Mavis.

  And if her brother had to marry anyone, she would welcome Mavis if that was his choice because there was something about her which made Weena feel that she was genuine in every way.

  She could not explain it exactly to herself, but she had known many people in Russia who had made her feel, although she could no
t exactly explain why, that they were not entirely truthful.

  She expected that those in the Social world would be somewhat unreal or maybe deceptive because they were acting out a part on a grand stage.

  When later the men re-joined them, Weena knew without him having to say so, that Ivor had struck a good bargain with Lord Campbell and from his point of view it was all very satisfactory.

  Lord Campbell then gave them both an invitation to have luncheon with him tomorrow.

  “I expect,” he said, “we will be going to some party or another in the evening. While I often think I would like to stay at home and enjoy my pictures, I have to remember that my daughter is young and she must have a choice of all the eligible young men in London before she decides to settle down and be married.”

  “I am sure she will have no difficulty about that, my Lord,” Ivor said.

  There was, however, a note in his voice and a light in his eyes that told his sister that, if anyone was to possess the attractive Mavis, he intended that it should be him.

  When they said goodbye and left, Weena showed her brother the list of invitations they had already received.

  Two more had arrived while they were having tea.

  “You are a success, a huge success!” Ivor told his sister. “All we have to do now is find you a husband.”

  “There is no hurry,” Weena countered quickly.

  “Well, I know who I am going to marry and you are not allowed three guesses!”

  “I think you are right, she is enchanting,” his sister replied, “at the same time you do think that you will love her despite her money?”

  “I thought when I first saw her,” Ivor replied, “that she was the most attractive girl I have ever seen. Strange though it may seem, my heart turned a somersault.”

  Weena gave a little cry.

  “Oh, Ivor, I am so happy if that is true! I was afraid that you may have to marry someone who was either very dull or perhaps unpleasant simply because she was rich. I like Mavis and I would like her even if she did not have a penny.”

  “I would like to say the same, but that would make it very difficult. As it is, if things work out the way they are moving at the moment, I will be a very fortunate man.”

  “Of course you will,” Weena agreed. “I do so want you to be happy.”

  “Just as I want you to be happy, my lovely sister. So we have to start looking for someone who will give you everything you want in life.”

  Weena did not answer.

  She was in fact wondering once again as she had wondered so often already why exactly David Hart had not said goodbye to her.

  *

  They went to a party that evening, which was not as amusing or as glamorous as the party had been the night before.

  Ivor was upset when he found that Mavis was not there when they arrived and she did not even turn up when dinner was finished and the band started to play.

  It was a disappointing party.

  And Weena found one man rather tiresome.

  She sat next to him at dinner and discovered that he was a certain Viscount Pendleton who lived in the North of England.

  He had come to London as his sister had asked him to give a dance for her daughter, who was just eighteen.

  As head of a well known family, he was, Weena thought, very stuck-up in many ways.

  He was, in fact, determined to establish himself as a man of importance and she was, however, certain that there were many men there of far greater consequence than he was.

  He talked to her in a lofty way at dinner trying, she thought, to impress her with his large estate and his family in general.

  Although to be honest, she did think that perhaps he was trying to equal the position she held as a Princess.

  As it was, she kept forgetting that this title gave her privileges that other debutantes did not have.

  She sat at the top table at dinner for instance.

  On one side of her was the Viscount, while on the other was a good-looking young man who was intent on being involved in politics before, as he swiftly pointed out, he was obliged to move to the House of Lords.

  She found dinner with both of them rather boring particularly as the Viscount was completely determined to hold her attention regardless of how many others wanted to talk to her.

  When the band started to play he asked her to dance before anyone else could do so and so she was obliged to accept him.

  Although she tried to avoid him later, he somehow managed to make it impossible for her to refuse to dance with him again.

  They had at least five dances before Ivor wanted to go home and then Weena was only too willing to agree with him.

  Driving back to the house, he said,

  “I could see that Viscount Pendleton was running after you. I have discovered that he is very well-off and owns a fine castle in the North and excellent racehorses that are kept at Newmarket.”

  “I thought him a bore,” Weena replied. “He only talked about himself and he did not dance nearly as well as the other gentlemen.”

  “All the same he is rich,” Ivor repeated, “and, if he asks us to stay at his castle, we will most certainly accept the invitation.”

  Weena thought that that was one thing she had no wish to do, but decided it best not to say so.

  She began to talk about where they were going the following evening and if they were really going to ride in Rotten Row the next morning.

  “I have asked for two horses to be brought round at a quarter-to-eight,” Ivor told her. “The man has promised me that they are his very best ones and they are certainly the most expensive.”

  Weena gave a little cry.

  “Oh, do be careful! If we spend too much money then we will have to keep selling more of your precious collection of treasures and they will not last for ever.”

  “I am well aware of that,” Ivor replied. “I have my plans for the future and I will not give you any more than three guesses as to what they are.”

  “I don’t want three. I think you are in love with Mavis and as she is so attractive I do hope that, if you have to marry, you will marry her.”

  “I hope so too,” her brother agreed. “All the same it’s not going to be easy. It depends on whether a Russian Prince is as important as an English Duke in the eyes of her father.”

  “Well, I can cheer you up,” Weena said, “by saying that so far we have not met a Duke. As you are the man on the spot, I would think that Lord Campbell is wise enough to think ‘a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush’.”

  Ivor laughed.

  But Weena had the feeling that what she said was the truth and if he really wanted to marry Mavis, he might be successful.

  Their ride in Rotten Row was a great success.

  The moment she arrived there was a circle of young gentlemen around Weena and, when she trotted down the Row itself, they were beside and behind her.

  She saw a number of girls who were also riding look at her angrily, but she told herself it was only because she was someone new.

  Once they were used to her, there would be another newcomer or perhaps they would become bored.

  It was Ivor who suggested that she must buy some more clothes because it would be unfashionable to appear in the same dress too often.

  As they were asked out to dinner or a party almost every night, she thought that he was undoubtedly right.

  So she indulged herself in a really beautiful dress, which had, the couturier assured her, come straight from Paris.

  She was certainly a success in it that evening and, in spite of the fact that she was being pestered by Viscount Pendleton again, she enjoyed every moment.

  “I insist on you calling me by my Christian name,” he said, “and, in case you have forgotten, it is ‘Randolph’.”

  Weena wanted to tell him that she once had a dog called that name, but thought he would not have found it amusing.

  He was continually puffed up with his own self-importance and, al
though she tried to stop him, he wrote his name down half a dozen times on her dance card.

  “There are lots of other girls you should dance with because they are your friends,” she told him.

  “I want to dance with you,” he replied brusquely.

  There was a look in his eyes that frightened her and she tried to move away, but he took her almost physically onto the dance floor.

  “You must dance with me!” he persisted. “And you dance far better than any woman I have ever danced with. As you are much more beautiful than they are, why should I dance with anyone but you?”

  She knew that there was no point in arguing with him and so she danced with him until the waltz came to an end.

  Then she almost ran to the partner whose name was on her card for the next dance.

  It was when this one was over that Weena, dancing round the room, saw that the Viscount had disappeared.

  She hoped he had gone home and would therefore not claim the other dances he had written down on her card despite her protests.

  “Let’s go into the garden now,” she said, because she was anxious to hide from the Viscount.

  Her partner agreed all too eagerly.

  Once outside in the garden, he tried to kiss her but was rather clumsy about it.

  It was easy for her to refuse him, but it might not have been so easy with anyone else.

  However, she thought it would be wise to return to the ballroom even though she might have to dance with the Viscount again.

  It was still early in the evening and more guests were continually arriving.

  She looked round for her brother, but could not see him anywhere.

  Then to her surprise a servant came to her side.

  “His Highness, the Prince, requests Your Highness to join him in the upstairs sitting room,” he told her.

  Weena looked at him in surprise.

  “I will now show Your Highness where it is,” the servant offered.

  There was nothing she could do but follow him up the stairs.

  They had been dancing on the ground floor and she had only been up the stairs to put her cloak down and tidy herself before dinner.

  Now the servant in front of her opened one of the doors on the first floor.

  As she entered, she saw that it was a private sitting room. It had a pine bookcase on one side of the room and a secretaire by the window.

 

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