Winged Victory

by Barbara Cartland

  Hannah had gone from the room and looking at the sunshine Cledra thought that now everything was light and there was no dark menace to make her afraid and anxious.

  Then almost as if somebody gave her a blow she was aware that now she was free of her uncle there would be no reason for her to stay here and, as an uninvited guest, she would have to make plans to leave.

  Suddenly she felt frantic at the idea.

  ‘Where can I go?’

  ‘What can I do?’

  ‘Who will want me?’

  The questions seemed to tumble over themselves in her mind and, because she was unprepared for them, she could see herself riding away from the great house on Winged Victory and going out through the lodge gates into a huge, frightening and empty world where nobody would care what became of her.

  Then, as she felt the fear of the future rising in her breast, she knew that when she had gone she would never see the Earl again and would have lost her only safety and security.

  ‘What can I do?’

  It was only on her account that he had left London at the height of the Season and come to the country so that he could protect her and his horses from her uncle.

  Now he could return to his parties of the beautiful women who loved him.

  Her uncle was dead and Cledra found it impossible to be anything but glad. He had been evil and mad.

  Yet, because of what she had suffered at his hands and because too, as an orphan, she was alone in the world, she knew that only with the Earl could she feel safe and secure.

  She sat up in bed.

  ‘I must not – impose upon him,’ she told herself, ‘and now that he need no longer be afraid of what Uncle Walter will do next, he will – certainly not – want me.’

  She felt as if what she was thinking was like a dagger in her heart and she threw herself back against the pillows and hiding her face she began to cry.

  *

  The Earl on returning from riding was informed by the butler that there was a gentleman to see him in his study.

  “It’s a Mr. Harriman, my Lord.”

  Handing his hat, riding gloves and whip to a footman, the Earl replied,

  “I am indeed expecting him.”

  A man with greying hair and spectacles rose hurriedly to his feet as the Earl entered the study.

  “I received your communication, my Lord,” he said, “and came here from London immediately.”

  The Earl seated himself and indicated a chair opposite him.

  “When I learned that you are the Solicitors in charge of Sir Walter Melford’s affairs,” he began, “I wished to talk to you before you approached Miss Melford.”

  “We were in fact searching for Miss Melford,” Mr. Harriman replied, “and, when we were told by your Lordship’s secretary that she was staying here, the information saved us a great deal of anxiety.”

  Mr. Harriman spoke in the slow precise manner that was characteristic of his profession and the Earl’s voice in contrast sounded quick and alert as he replied,

  “Miss Melford has not been well and, as I wish to spare her any unnecessary legal difficulties, I suggest that you communicate first to me what her position is now that Sir Walter Melford, who was her Guardian, is dead.”

  Mr. Harriman opened the briefcase he held on his knees.

  “My partners and I thought that your Lordship would like a concise statement of Sir Walter’s affairs and how they affect his niece. I think, my Lord, you will not be surprised to learn that she is now a very considerable heiress.”

  There was a distinct pause before the Earl responded,

  “It is actually a great surprise. I rather expected that Sir Walter might not have included Miss Melford in his will.”

  “Sir Walter made his will fifteen years ago when he married,” Mr. Harriman replied.

  “Sir Walter was married? I had no idea!” the Earl exclaimed.

  Mr. Harriman’s thin lips twisted in a somewhat wry smile,

  “Very few people were aware of it, my Lord, because it was a marriage that was kept secret even from his relatives and after the honeymoon abroad Lady Melford left him.”

  The Earl thought that this was not surprising, but said nothing.

  “She returned to her family and my partners and I have always understood that she and Sir Walter never communicated with each other again except through our firm.”

  Again the Earl thought that this was understandable seeing what type of man Sir Walter had been.

  Aloud he asked,

  “But the will was not changed?”

  “No, my Lord, although Sir Walter talked about it, nothing was done and in it provision was made for his wife, who is now dead, and everything else he possessed was left to his immediate heirs, who he expected to be his children.”

  The Earl did not speak and after a moment’s pause Mr. Harriman continued,

  “As your Lordship must be aware, Sir Walter’s brother, Colonel Melford and his wife died two years ago and his only immediate heir, therefore, is Miss Cledra.”

  The Earl sat back in his chair.

  This certainly, he thought, solved Cledra’s problems from a financial point of view.

  But he was wondering how she would manage to cope with considerable wealth and a large estate.

  As if he read his thoughts Mr. Harriman said,

  “Your Lordship, of course, knows Sir Walter’s house and stables at Newmarket, but the family mansion in Sussex is very much larger and stands in two thousand acres of good agricultural land. There is also a house in Park Street in London.”

  “And you are telling me that there is nobody except Miss Melford to inherit this property and the money that goes with it?” the Earl asked.

  He was thinking as he spoke that Sir Walter had just before his death received a great deal of money from the sale of his horses.

  Mr Harriman turned over several papers before he replied,

  “My partners and I, my Lord, have ascertained that there are a few quite distant relatives of Sir Walter and Miss Cledra, but the majority of them are elderly and in comfortable circumstances.”

  He inspected a document before he continued,

  “Strangely enough there appear to be no young people in the family and it is in fact sad that Sir Walter had no children, while his brother, the popular and charming Colonel Melford, had only one daughter.”

  “I agree with you,” the Earl replied, “and it is always a mistake for a young woman to be an heiress.”

  “You are quite right, my Lord,” Mr. Harriman agreed. “London is full of the most undesirable fortune-hunters, as I and my partners have learnt from too many difficult and unsavoury Law suits.”

  The Earl rose to his feet.

  “I am sure, Mr. Harriman, that you would like some refreshment and a rest before you return to London. I regret that Miss Melford is not well enough to see you, but I will give her any papers you may wish to leave with me.”

  He paused before he added,

  “As soon as she is better I will either bring her to London where you can communicate with her at my house or I must ask you once again to make the journey here.”

  “I am very grateful to your Lordship,” Mr. Harriman said, “and there is no great hurry, except as regards the investing of quite large amounts of money that are at the moment deposited in the Bank.”

  The Earl rang a gold bell that stood on his desk and, as the door opened, he held out his hand to the Solicitor who had placed a pile of papers on the desk.

  “Thank you again, Mr. Harriman, for coming to see me and being so explicit. I will explain everything that you have told me to Miss Melford as soon as it is possible.”

  Mr. Harriman bowed.

  “I can only thank your Lordship,” he murmured respectfully.

  When the Earl was alone he walked across the room to stand for a moment looking out at the sunshine in the garden, but he did not see the lilac and syringa coming into flower or the white doves flying overhead that had alw
ays been the delight of his grandmother.

  Instead he was seeing the fear in Cledra’s eyes when she looked at Eddie and remembering the way that she had instinctively moved a little closer to himself and seeking his protection.

  ‘How the devil can she cope with two estates and a huge amount of money?’ he reflected.

  Because he did not know the answer, he went up the stairs to see his grandmother.

  She was seated in the window of the sitting room which adjoined her bedroom and the sunshine was glittering on her jewels.

  As the Earl approached her, her eyes to shine seemed almost as brightly as her diamonds.

  “I have been waiting to see you, Lennox,” she began as he crossed the room to lift her hand to his lips. “Eddie tells me that a Solicitor has called. I am sure that he has come to tell you how much that horrible man, Melford, has left and if any of it is for poor little Cledra.”

  The Earl laughed as he sat down beside the Countess.

  “Is there anything that goes on in this house that you don’t know about?” he enquired.

  “Very little,” the Countess admitted. “It would be very boring for me otherwise, tied here to my chair, and being unable to take part in the dramas which fill your life.”

  “Which I can well do without!”

  “Nonsense!” the Countess exclaimed. “You know full well you enjoyed every moment of the fire that madman started.”

  The Earl did not contradict her, knowing that there was more than a grain of truth in what she was saying.

  Nevertheless he hoped never again to go through the agonies he had suffered when he had thought that first Winged Victory and then Cledra would be burned to death.

  It was an intense satisfaction to know that apart from the damage to his stable and the death of Sir Walter, nobody else had been badly hurt.

  As if she followed his thoughts, the Countess looked at the scar on his forehead, which was healing, and said,

  “That wound on most handsome men would be a disaster, but it gives you a raffish appearance and is actually quite becoming!”

  “Thank you, Grandmama,” the Earl replied somewhat wryly, “but may I inform you that it hurt abominably for the first forty-eight hours after it happened and the burns on my left hand are still extremely painful.”

  “That is what you must expect if you will play the hero,” his grandmother replied unsympathetically. “I heard how you carried Cledra to safety and, of course, it was only because you went to the stables when she asked you to that her horse and many of yours were not destroyed.”

  “I am quite prepared to take some of the credit,” the Earl replied, “but the person you must congratulate on having an infallible instinct for danger is Cledra.”

  “I will certainly tell her that when I see her,” the Countess answered. “I hear she is awake.”

  “I think it was a good idea for her, as Yates prescribed, to sleep it off,” the Earl replied, “and I certainly did not want her to be awake when I had what remained of her uncle sent to Sussex for burial in the family tomb.”

  He smiled as he continued,

  “Her horse was restless and upset the next day, which would undoubtedly have perturbed her a great deal more.”

  “The horse is all right now?” the Countess enquired.

  “Perfectly, I rode him this morning and there is nothing wrong except he will have to grow some new hair on his forehead and there are still some burnt patches on his nose and neck.”

  “And what about your own horses?”

  “Settling down, although God knows what they would have been like if Melford had been able to throw his fireworks amongst them as he intended.”

  “Well, we need not think about him anymore,” the Countess said, “but I am wondering what you are going to do about Cledra.”

  “That is what is worrying me because, Grandmama, her uncle’s Solicitor has informed me that she inherits everything he left and he was a very rich man.”'

  “Considering the way he treated her it is poetic justice,” the Countess commented sharply.

  “I agree. At the same time how can that child cope on her own? I suppose the first thing we shall have to do is to find her a chaperone.”

  “Or a husband!”'

  The Earl did not reply and the Countess was aware that he was frowning.

  After what was quite a long silence she asked him,

  “You don’t think that is a good idea?”

  “I suppose it’s a possible one,” the Earl replied, “it is just that I am aware that at the moment Cledra would not feel at ease with strange men. Her uncle’s treatment has left scars on her mind as well as on her body.”

  “Then the solution is obvious, dear boy.”

  “What is it?” the Earl enquired.

  “You must look after her until you can find her a man she will accept,” his grandmother replied, “and of whom she will not be afraid.”

  *

  “I cannot go on sleeping!” Cledra exclaimed.

  “No, of course not, miss,” Hannah agreed, “and his Lordship’s sent you a message.”

  “What is it?”

  “He says when you feel strong enough he’d like to see you.”

  “Oh, Hannah! Why did you not tell me sooner? I will go downstairs and see him – at once.”

  “His Lordship’s gone out, miss, and when he spoke to me he suggested if it was not too much for you, he’d like you to take tea with him in the Orangery.”

  “Of course it will not be too much for me.”

  Because she was excited at the idea Cledra ate her luncheon without argument and then allowed Hannah to settle her down for a short rest with the blinds half-drawn to keep out the sunshine.

  She had no wish to sleep, wanting rather to think of the Earl and of how exciting it would be to see him again.

  ‘I want him to talk to me,’ she thought, ‘I want him to tell me about Winged Victory and hear that all the other horses are unharmed,’

  When Hannah came to pull up the blinds and help her to get dressed, she felt as if she wanted to dance.

  But actually her legs felt a little unsteady after being in bed for so long.

  However, when she was dressed in one of the lovely gowns that the Earl had brought her from London, she looked at herself in the mirror and thought that she would have been untruthful if she had not admitted that she looked very pretty.

  She had grown thinner and her eyes were enormous in her face. There was a slight flush on her cheeks and her hair seemed to catch the sunlight.

  “Now don’t do too much, miss,” Hannah admonished, “and if you feel tired come straight back to bed. I’ll have everythin’ ready for you.”

  “I am hoping his Lordship will ask me – down to dinner.”

  “It’ll be too much for you and you’d much better stay quietly up here.”

  “That would be very dull,” Cledra replied, “and, if his Lordship asks me to dine with him – I shall accept.”

  She did not wait for Hannah to say anything more, but hurried from the bedroom along the passage and down the great staircase.

  The footman in the hall smiled as she appeared and she smiled back, thinking that the whole house seemed to welcome her as if she had been away for a long time.

  Then, as she sped on towards the Orangery, she found herself hoping and even saying a little prayer that Eddie Lowther would not be there.

  ‘I want to talk to the Earl alone,’ Cledra thought, ‘and it will spoil everything if there is anybody with him.’

  She reached the Orangery and was assailed by the fragrance of the flowers and the sunshine pouring in all along the side of the building.

  Then her heart gave a leap and turned a somersault as she had her first glimpse of the Earl standing at the open window waiting for her.

  It was impossible not to run towards him and, when she reached him, she held out both her hands spontaneously in the sheer joy of seeing him again.

  Then she gave a cry o
f horror.

  “You have been – injured! Why did nobody – tell me?”

  She was looking at the scar on his forehead and, as she saw that his left hand was bandaged, she exclaimed before he could speak,

  “You have been badly – burnt! It must be very painful. Oh, I am sorry – I am so very – very sorry.”

  She held on to him as she spoke, one hand clinging to hi and, the other on his arm.

  “My wounds are healing,” the Earl answered with a smile, “and I promise you they now hardly hurt me at all.”

  “It is all my fault – and you might have been very badly injured.”

  There was a little sob in her voice and the Earl said quickly,

  “I refuse to make a fuss about such trifles and let me tell you that Winged Victory has been very brave.”

  “He is – all right?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “Hannah told me that you were riding him – today.”

  “And Winged Victory told me,” the Earl smiled, “that he was looking forward to carrying you on his back.”

  “May I ride him tomorrow?”

  “I hope you will be well enough.”

  Cledra’s face was radiant and as if she was suddenly aware that she was still holding on to the Earl with both hands, she freed herself and said,

  “Shall I pour out your – tea?”

  “I am waiting for you to do so.”

  Cledra looked at the table and saw with a feeling of delight that there were only two cups.

  She sat down and poured from a large silver teapot, the Earl watching her all the while.

  When he took his cup from her, he said,

  “I have a great deal to tell you, Cledra. Your uncle’s Solicitor came here this morning.”

  Cledra did not reply, she merely looked up at him and the Earl could see the anxiety in her eyes.

  “It was a surprise to me,” he went on, “and I expect it will be somewhat of a surprise to you to know that everything your uncle possessed is now yours.”

  Cledra stared at him as if she could not believe that she had heard aright.

  Then she cried,

  “I don’t want his – money! I will not – take it!”

  The Earl did not speak and after a moment she added,

  “Uncle Walter always taunted me by saying that he was leaving me to starve because – he intended to marry and have a son.”