The Runaway Heart

by Barbara Cartland

  “No, I don’t think so,” she said. “You mean that someone would want the pink elephant just because Mr. Holt had it?”

  “I wasn’t thinking about pink elephants,” Felix said. “I was thinking of someone like you.”

  “Like me!” Karina exclaimed in astonishment. “But I don’t belong to anybody, not now,” she added, remembering that if it had not been for Cousin Felix she would have been one day nearer to her Wedding to Cyril.

  “And supposing I suggested that you belong to me?” Felix said.

  There was something in his face and eyes that put her on her guard.

  With a swift unexpected movement she slipped her hand away from his and rose from the sofa.

  “We must go back to the others,” she said. “I think I hear Lady Holt calling for you.”

  She had moved swiftly down the Gallery before Felix had risen to his feet.

  She felt as if she was being chased and only when she reached the door did she look back to see that Felix was not hurrying himself, but was just standing by the sofa where they had been sitting, looking after her.

  And then, as she opened the door, he laughed, a strange, amused and rather horrible laugh that seemed now, as she tossed in her bed, to echo and re-echo in her head.

  ‘What is he trying to do?’ she asked herself. ‘He doesn’t want me. Of course he doesn’t want me. It is Lady Holt he likes – or is he after her money?’

  It seemed absurd to contemplate, in spite of what Garland Holt had said about fortune-hunters. Cousin Felix was rich, he knew everyone. There seemed no possible reason for him to attach himself to Lady Holt unless he was genuinely attracted to her.

  And yet what had he meant by his conversation this evening? Why had there been that strange almost fatuous look on his face? She could feel again the hot pressure of his fingers on hers and the close proximity of his body.

  She shivered beneath the bedclothes, turned and tossed again.

  Garland Holt had warned her; he had told her that her heart would know the answer. And yet it seemed to her that there was no answer to her questions.

  She heard the clock strike three and then, because she felt so restless, she went to the bathroom, sponged her face and drank a glass of cold water.

  ‘I will not think about anything but going to sleep,’ she told her reflection in the mirror over the basin.

  She did not look sleepy. Her fair hair was a little tousled round her face, but her eyes were wide and bright, seeming to shine under the long dark curling eyelashes.

  ‘It’s because this house is too hot,’ she thought.

  She had a sudden longing for the cool air outside, for the wind blowing across the fields and for the feel of the earth under her feet.

  She decided suddenly that she would go for a walk. It was something that she had often done at home when things had seemed unbearable in the house, when Cyril had been too attentive or Uncle Simon was annoyed with her.

  She had felt suffocated by rooms and walls and by the atmosphere of disapproval. She would go out, sometimes to saddle her horse and gallop until she was exhausted, at other times just to walk along by the river or through the woods, anywhere so long as she could be away from people, away from everything except the comfort and kindliness of nature itself.

  She knew that she could stay in bed no longer.

  Swiftly she dressed, putting on a warm woollen coat and shirt and a knitted jumper. She picked up a silk handkerchief to tie over her hair and took her suede shoes with their crêpe soles from the cupboard.

  ‘I must not wake anybody,’ she thought. ‘I will carry them in my hand and put them on downstairs.’

  She opened the door of her room quietly.

  The landing was in darkness and she walked across the thick carpet to the top of the stairs.

  There were no lights, only a faint lightness, which might have been moonlight, was coming through the high glass windows of the hall.

  As soon as her eyes were accustomed to the darkness, she could see the outline of the banisters and feel her way without any difficulty down the stairs. She hurried down, anxious now to be out in the air.

  The wind, she believed, would blow all her troubles away.

  Perhaps she would find in the rustle of it and amongst the branches of the tree the answer to the questions that were perplexing her. Perhaps, more important than all, she would know what she must do in the future.

  To go forward? To go back? Mrs. de Winton had said that she must face up to her problems. Would that achieve anything?

  She reached the last stair and felt her foot strike the marble of the hall. It was then that she was conscious of a light coming through an open doorway a little to her left.

  She stared at it, wondering what it could be. Was there someone still in the drawing room? She had heard what she thought was the last of the house party come to bed an hour after she herself had gone upstairs. Had anyone been left behind?

  It was then that she realised that it was not the door of the drawing room that the light was coming from.

  It was another door, far to the left of it, and with a little leap of her heart she realised that it was the locked room that Garland Holt had taken Cousin Felix and herself into and which contained his fabulous collection of jade and quartz.

  ‘He must be in there,’ she thought, ‘looking at his treasures, perhaps touching his lucky elephant.’

  It was the sort of thing she would do herself, she thought, to come down at night when there was no one about and sit with the things one loved, staring at them, realising with delight how beautiful they were.

  She had already decided that she would not leave the house by the front door but by the garden entrance, which was a little way down the passage towards the dining room.

  She would have to pass the door where Garland Holt was looking at his treasures, but she felt sure that he would not hear her.

  She tiptoed across the marble, her stockinged feet making no sound at all. And then, as she neared the door of the lit room, she saw that the inner door was also open and that there were two men there, not one.

  They were bending over a bag that lay on the floor and neither of them was Garland Holt!

  For a moment she could not take in what she saw. Two men – and they were both of them masked! Two men! And one of them was holding a piece of jade in his hand and the other held open the bag on the floor.

  It was then she screamed. Screamed loudly, her voice rising and echoing round the hall.

  “Help! Help!”

  She screamed again and as she did so she felt something hit her on the head.

  The pain shot through her, her cry stopped abruptly as she staggered, tried desperately to hold on to her consciousness and then was lost into a sudden darkness that seemed to swallow her up completely and irrevocably –

  She was travelling down a long dark tunnel, something was hurting her and it was her head. She could feel the pain of it seeping down over her whole body like the tentacles from an octopus, searing its way and aching with an almost unbearable agony.

  She wanted to go back down the tunnel of darkness from which she had come. Suddenly she was aware that she was moving and it took her a second or so to realise that she was being carried and that people were talking in excited almost hysterical voices.

  From above her head someone said sharply,

  “Never mind the Police. Call the doctor first.”

  She heard the authority in the tone and knew who it was.

  Now she realised that he was carrying her. His arms were very strong and he was moving easily as if she weighed nothing at all.

  She gave a little convulsive murmur, wanting to say that she could stand on her own and there was no need for him to carry her, but finding that the words would not come.

  “It’s all right,” he said comfortingly. “You are all right. Don’t worry.”

  There was something so soothing and so comforting in his tone that for a moment she obeyed him and le
t herself drift, giving up the effort of trying to remember. Then she felt him set her down on something soft and comfortable.

  For some unknown reason she did not wish him to leave her.

  She tried to put out her hand to cling to him. She tried to ask him to go on holding her so that she would feel safe. But it was impossible to speak.

  She felt something warm being put over her legs, and now, at last, she managed to open her eyes.

  A stab of pain in her head made her whimper. She saw Garland Holt looking at her, his face quite near to hers and she felt his hands take hers, white and trembling, into his.

  “It’s all right,” he said again. “The doctor will be here soon.”

  “Some – body hit – me,” she stuttered.

  “Yes, I know,” he answered. “I heard you cry out.”

  It was then she remembered the men with the bag and the man with the piece of jade in his hand.

  “They were – burglars,” she said. “They were taking your jade. They were burglars!”

  “Yes, I know,” he said. “And you disturbed them. If it had not been for you, they would have got away with everything.”

  “What did they take?” she asked.

  “Quite a lot,” he said. “But when you screamed, they rushed out as quickly as they could. But one of them must have hit you. I found you lying on the floor.”

  “You found me?” she enquired.

  “I heard you scream,” he said. “I came running down the passage, but I was not in time to stop the men or see who they were.”

  “I am – glad I prevented – them taking – everything,” she said in an exhausted voice.

  “You were very brave,” he smiled.

  The door was suddenly burst open.

  “What’s happened? What’s going on? They tell me Karina has been hurt.”

  Karina closed her eyes. She felt somehow that she could not bear Cousin Felix fussing and asking questions. Her head ached terribly. Besides, his voice was loud and intrusive.

  “There has been a burglary,” Garland Holt said briefly. “Karina discovered them and screamed. I heard her and came downstairs to find that one of them had hit her on the head before they absconded with what they had already collected from my locked room.”

  “Good Heavens! Your jade!” Felix exclaimed. “They haven’t taken that?”

  “Some of it,” Garland Holt replied. “I really haven’t had time to look. I was more concerned with Karina.”

  “Of course, of course!” Felix said. “My dear fellow, go at once and see what the damage is. I will look after Karina.”

  “There is no hurry,” Garland Holt said coolly. “The doctor should be here soon. I told the servants to ring him up at once.”

  “To think I should have slept through all this,” Felix said in a fussy irritable voice. “I am a very light sleeper as a rule, in fact the voices downstairs woke me.

  “You didn’t hear Karina scream?”

  “No, I cannot understand why I didn’t,” Felix said, “except of course, that I was very tired last night.”

  “Well, it might have been worse,” Garland Holt said. “She has an enormous bump on her head.”

  “I wonder what they hit her with?” Felix said. “Why on earth, if Karina knew that the burglars were there, didn’t she come and tell me or you?”

  He paused and then gave an exclamation.

  “Good Heavens! She is dressed! What does this mean?”

  Karina wanted to explain, but really it was too much effort. Her head was hurting her, sending little waves of pain all down the sides of her temples.

  She felt a sudden warmth of gratitude as Garland Holt said,

  “I expect she will tell us all about it when she feels better. Be a good fellow and go and see how much damage has been done downstairs and send the doctor up the moment he comes.”

  “Of course, I will go at once,” Felix said.

  He went from the room and Garland said in a quiet voice,

  “Are you really unconscious or only pretending?”

  “Pretending,” Karina answered, opening her eyes. “But my head does hurt – so terribly.”

  “I am sure it does,” Garland Holt answered. “Would you like me to send a maid to help you into bed or will you wait until the doctor has been?”

  With an effort Karina looked to see that she was lying on a sofa in front of the fire. Garland Holt had covered her legs with the eiderdown from the bed and had propped her against a collection of satin and lace cushions that ornamented the sofa.

  “I think – I will wait,” she said.

  She felt as if it would be impossible for her ever to move again. Even to open her eyes sent little rivers of pain running through her body. The mere idea of moving her head was something too frightful to contemplate.

  “I understand,” he said. “To save you trouble and to save you being worried, would you tell me why you were dressed at three o’clock in the morning? The Police will want to know.”

  “The Police!” Karina opened her eyes quickly. “Will they want to know my name? Will it be in the papers?”

  “I suppose there is every possibility of that,” Garland Holt said.

  “It mustn’t! Don’t you understand? It mustn’t!” Karina almost screamed. “If Aunt Margaret and Uncle Simon know where I am – they will take me back. I shall have to go home with them. I shall have to – marry Cyril.”

  “You will have to do nothing of the sort,” Garland Holt answered.

  “I shall! I shall!” Karina contradicted him. “Uncle Simon is my Guardian and he will have the law on his side. Oh, please don’t tell the Police – who I am.”

  “I am afraid that they will insist upon knowing it,” Garland Holt said. “But I will try and prevent your name getting into the newspapers. You must, however, tell me why you were downstairs.”

  “I could not sleep,” Karina answered. “I thought I would go for a walk.”

  She saw Garland Holt smile.

  “Such a simple explanation. I thought you must be running away.”

  “That is what Cousin Felix will think,” she whispered. “But I wasn’t. I just wanted to get out of the house. It seemed to be closing in on me.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Garland Holt said. “Now don’t worry anymore.”

  “And you will keep my name out of the papers? Promise me,” Karina begged.

  In her anxiety she reached out towards him, both her hands clinging to his, her cold little fingers seeming somehow desperate in their appeal.

  “I will do my best, I promise you,” Garland Holt told her.

  Somehow, quite unexpectedly, she felt reassured and comforted.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The doctor gave Karina a sleeping draught and she slept almost the whole of the next day.

  When she did awake about teatime, she was interviewed by a very nice and rather apologetic Inspector of Police and the Chief Constable of the County.

  She told them everything that had happened but, when they pressed her to say if she could identify the men again, she had to admit that it would be quite impossible. She could not even remember if they were tall or short, fat or thin.

  “I think it was the shock of seeing their masks,” she said. “It was like a film or a play on television. I can only remember realising that they were burglars and were taking away Mr. Holt’s wonderful treasures of jade and quartz. I don’t think I even thought about screaming. It just happened. And then something hit me on the head and I don’t remember anything else.”

  She knew that they were disappointed with her, but there was nothing she could do about it and after they had gone she found that her head ached so badly that she asked Mrs. de Winton’s nurse, who was looking after her, if she need see anyone else.

  “You go to sleep and forget all about it,” the nurse said in the soothing voice one uses to an ailing child.

  Karina was only too glad to do as she was told.

  She closed her eye
s and opened them again only for a few brief minutes while she drank a little soup. Then she fell into a heavy dreamless sleep until the morning.

  She awoke to find that, while her head was very sore and terribly tender when she touched it, the blinding headache that had made every movement an agony the day before had vanished.

  The nurse would not hear of her getting up.

  “Not until the doctor has seen you,” she stated firmly.

  And so Karina lay in bed feeling pampered and cosseted until the doctor came and declared that he was very pleased with her.

  “You are a very brave girl,” he said. “Everyone downstairs is singing your praises.”

  “There is nothing in the papers?” Karina asked quickly.

  “No, there isn’t and it’s a pity,” he answered. “It might have made you quite a national heroine. But, instead, they just said that the burglars were disturbed by a guest in the house. Another time take my advice and don’t be so brave. Run to a place of safety and then scream.”

  “I hope there will not be another time,” Karina answered.

  “So do I,” he replied. “You are too small and too fragile for this sort of thing. A blow like that might have been fatal. As it is, you have had a lucky escape, young lady.”

  “I will keep away from burglars in future,” Karina promised with a little smile.

  While he was still talking to her, there was a knock on the door and Felix came in.

  “Is she better, doctor?” he asked anxiously. “I was terrified yesterday. I looked in once or twice and she looked so pale I thought that she must have died on us.”

  Karina laughed.

  “How ridiculous you are, Cousin Felix! I am much better and the doctor says that I can get up.”

  “Did I say that?” the doctor asked, raising his eyebrows. “Well, for a couple of hours if you like, but not more. Is that a promise?”

  “It’s a promise,” Karina agreed.

  “That’s wonderful!” Felix exclaimed. “I have been longing to see you and hear exactly what happened.”

  The doctor said ‘goodbye’ and, when Felix had seen him to the door, he came back to stand beside Karina’s bed.

  He looked so worried that she had to laugh at him.