Love Is the Reason For Living

by Barbara Cartland

  There had been a marked decline in the Countess’s health since the doctor’s visit, and more than once that day, Novella wondered if she should call Doctor von Haydn back – or send for Doctor Jones.

  She had written to an agency in London for a nurse to look after her mother and she hoped that she would not have to wait long.

  The day slid by until just after seven and Novella was about to go and change for dinner when a hand-delivered message arrived at the Hall for her. Lily brought it to her in the drawing room.

  “What is this?” she asked, as the girl handed her the creamy paper.

  “A messenger from Tithehurst brought it, my Lady. He has not waited for a reply but has left.”

  ‘How strange,’ murmured Novella, pulling the seal off the paper and reading it.

  “My dear Lady Novella,

  I shall not forget our wonderful ride across the country together for a very long time. I enjoyed your company immensely and hope to do so again in the near future. In the meantime, as soon as you have read this note, I would entreat you to visit the stables, for there you will find a small token of my esteem.

  The invitation to visit Tithehurst whenever you wish remains there for you. I fervently hope that I shall be honoured with your company in the near future.

  Yours sincerely,

  Edward Moreton.”

  Novella pondered the contents of the letter for a few moments until her curiosity got the better of her.

  Even though it was getting dark outside, she took a lantern, lit it and then proceeded to the stables.

  ‘Perhaps he has sent back my saddle,’ she speculated, ‘or even bought me a new one.’

  As soon as she rounded the corner, she could see Charles standing there – a huge grin spread across his face like someone had just given him a sack of gold.

  “My Lady! Come with me!”

  “What is it, Charles?”

  “You wait and see, my Lady.”

  They went inside the stables and then, moving ahead of her, he beckoned her to follow him into the end stall.

  ‘How very curious,’ thought Novella.

  But as she inched nearer, she heard a very familiar snort. Scarcely able to believe her own ears, she rushed the last few yards and there, in his old stall, was Salamander!

  “Oh, I cannot believe it!” she cried, throwing her arms around the horse’s neck.

  “Look there, my Lady. There is a note on his bridle. I cannot read so I don’t know what it says. Perhaps it will tell us why dear old Salamander has come home?”

  Novella tore the label off Salamander’s bridle.

  It said.

  “My lady, after seeing how magnificently you rode Salamander the other afternoon, I have come to the conclusion that he would be ruined if anyone else mounted him. So I have decided to send him back home to his rightful owner. Consider it a gift to a very talented, very beautiful horsewoman who has no equal in this or any other County.”

  “How very generous!” exclaimed Novella, taking off Salamander’s bridle so that he could feel free. ‘And Sir Edward thinks I am beautiful.’

  She was aware that those words had caused a strange feeling to well up inside her. It was not at all unpleasant –

  But her reverie was broken by the sound of clattering hooves and the grinding of wheels. It was Lord Buckton with a face like thunder.

  “Why is that brute stabled here?” he shouted, “I thought I had sold him, so kindly explain why he is eating my hay and taking advantage of my shelter?”

  Her stepfather jumped down from the carriage and as he did so, Novella swore she could smell the scent of Parma violets upon him.

  “Sir Edward has kindly sent him over on extended loan so that I might once again enjoy riding him,” she retorted, feeling that if she had a shovel nearby, she would hit him with it should he try to send Salamander back.

  “What stuff and nonsense is this? What ails the man?”

  “If you are worrying about Salamander’s upkeep, I will make sure that nothing he touches is paid for by you, so you should not concern yourself unduly.”

  Lord Buckton smiled – a terrible smile of triumph.

  “We shall see about what you do or don’t have, my Lady. For this very day I have been to see my own solicitor – not that pair of dolts your family employs – and it appears that I have a very good claim on whatever money is in your bank account. What is yours is mine as I am your mother’s husband, and once she goes, then it will all belong to me!”

  “You – you heartless beast!” shouted Novella, fury in her eyes. “Do you care nothing about Mama’s health? We are going to lose her and all you are concerned with is money!”

  With that, she stormed off back towards the house, leaving her stepfather to laugh loudly at her retreat.

  ‘Who does he think he is?’ she raged, as she slammed shut her bedroom door. ‘Mr. Longridge will not allow him access to my account, even if he threatens him with a shotgun. The man is quite clearly out of his mind.”

  She rang for Lily and asked her to bring her dinner on a tray and then looked in on her mother.

  The Countess was awake but feeling weak.

  “The nurse will be here very soon,” said Novella, soothingly, as she plumped up the pillows. “And then you shall not have to spend a moment on your own.”

  It was not long before she was fast asleep. Novella watched her for a while and then she heard Lily’s footsteps outside. Remembering that she had asked for her dinner to be taken to her room, she tiptoed out so as not to disturb her mother.

  ‘I shall have an early night and then ride Salamander in the morning,’ she muttered as she finished her dinner, ‘perhaps I shall visit Tithehurst and thank Sir Edward personally. Yes, I shall do that tomorrow – ’

  *

  Novella was so exhausted that she slept extremely well. Awaking the next morning, she felt she would be able to face whatever the day threw at her.

  She got up, washed and dressed and then, turning the doorknob, she found that it was shut fast.

  ‘How peculiar, perhaps it has become stuck in the night,’ she thought.

  But try as she might, she could not open the door.

  Eventually the truth dawned on her as she looked at the lock and saw that the key was no longer there.

  ‘My stepfather must have had me locked in. Fool that I am, I quite forgot to take the key yesterday before I went out. No doubt, on his instructions, Mrs. Armitage took it and gave it to him, and so as soon as I was asleep, he came and locked it.’

  Novella was in tears of frustration as she wondered what she should do. There were a few, dry crusts still on her plate from last night and some water in the carafe beside her bed, so she would not go totally hungry or thirsty.

  Even so, Novella was incensed that her stepfather had taken this measure.

  ‘How dare he!’ she thought, as she tried to think of a way to get out.

  Walking over to the window, she looked down at the long drop below.

  ‘No, I should certainly kill myself if I attempted to climb out of the window,’ she reasoned.

  “What shall I do? What shall I do?” she cried, pacing back and forth.

  ‘What does he seek to achieve by confining me to my room? I have already sent for the nurse to look after Mama and Doctor von Haydn has been and pronounced his verdict – I can only assume he hopes to control me by doing this.’

  And that thought, so repellent to Novella, made her cry hot tears of frustration.

  “I will not allow him to control me, I will not,” she screamed, as she hit the bedding with her fist.

  ‘I expect he will now be attempting to gain access to my bank account,’ she thought grimly, wiping away her tears.

  ‘I have heard no one at the door this morning, so the nurse cannot have arrived yet. For that, I must be grateful at least for I am certain that he would send her away.’

  The realisation that she could not go to see her mother played heavily on Novella�
��s mind and very soon she began to cry.

  ‘Supposing Mama has died in the night? Would Mrs. Armitage come to fetch me?’ she thought, miserably.

  Eventually, worn out with emotion, she lay on the bed and began to doze.

  She did not know how long she slept, but was awoken some time later by the sound of voices in the hallway outside and the turning of the key in the lock.

  ‘It will be Mrs. Armitage, come to give me news of Mama,’ felt Novella, sitting up sleepily.

  So she was most dismayed to find her stepfather standing over her.

  “Now, let us see if a little confinement has subdued you,” he growled, in a low menacing voice. “I have here a paper from my solicitor and if you will kindly sign it, then I will be able to gain access to your bank account. He has informed me that unless you do so, I cannot make any withdrawals.”

  He proffered the paper.

  “Never. Never. That money is for Mama and me and the house – it is not for you to fritter away on new carriages and fancy women!”

  Lord Buckton stared at her long and hard.

  “Then I see that you shall have to stay put for a while longer. I will leave the paper here for you and by the time I return I expect you to have signed it. Mrs. Armitage will bring you a luncheon tray. Now, I shall need a little down payment for something I intend to purchase.”

  Novella sat helpless while her stepfather walked purposefully over to her dressing table and began to rifle in her jewellery box.

  “Ah, this will do,” he declared, picking up a diamond pendant.

  “But that is the necklace Uncle Richard bought me for my sixteenth birthday.”

  “And it is far too fine for a girl like you to wear. Yes, I will take it and let that be a lesson to you. The sooner you realise that everything in Crownley Hall is mine for the taking, the better.”

  With that, he strode off and let himself out, locking the door firmly behind him.

  ‘The brute!’cried Novella, ‘it is the only present I have from Mama’s brother who is now dead.’

  But she realised that she was powerless to stop him. Until she found a way out of her room, she could not go for help. It did cross her mind to go to Tithehurst but she dismissed it instantly.

  ‘I still do not know if I can trust Sir Edward,’ she murmured, ‘no, Mr. Longridge is my only hope. The only problem is how to get out of my room.’

  Feeling defeated, she sank back down on the bed and waited.

  But just then, shouts outside made her run back to the window.

  There, walking along the rear garden path were Charles and Folly!

  Folly was in one of her skittish moods and kept rearing up, much to Charles’s annoyance.

  Novella thought quickly and then, without hesitating, threw open the window.

  Although she knew it was unladylike to shout, she yelled as loud as her lungs would permit.

  “Charles! Charles!”

  She could see the groom’s head turning, trying to locate where the sound was coming from. He looked puzzled.

  ‘Oh, goodness,’ said Novella to herself, ‘he probably does not know that I am up here. He would not expect me to behave in such an uncouth way.’

  So she shouted again.

  “Charles! Charles! Look up. I am on the third floor.”

  “My Lady!” he cried, “what on earth are you doing of?”

  “I am locked in, Charles. I cannot get out of my room.”

  “Is this his doing?” he asked, with a frown.

  “I fear so.”

  “What can I do to get you out? I can’t get up a ladder, my Lady, my legs are too bad for that and young Ned is out with Bluebell.”

  Novella thought for a second – Mr. Longridge could help.

  “Charles, could you ride immediately to Stockington and go and see Mr. Hubert Longridge at the bank? Tell him what has happened and ask him to come here with all haste.”

  Charles did not hesitate – he grabbed Folly by the bridle and began to drag her towards the stables.

  “Don’t worry, my Lady. I’ll saddle up this little madam and go straight away. Come on, Folly, we’ve got important business!”

  Novella sank back down on the bed and prepared herself for a long wait. Even if Charles left at once, it would still be some hours before he returned.

  ‘I do hope that Mr. Longridge will arrive before my stepfather returns home,’ she said to herself. ‘Without his intervention, I fear that Lord Buckton will somehow find a way to gain access to the money that Papa left.

  ‘Oh, dear God! Hear me. If ever anyone needed your help right now – here I am. How I pray that you are listening!’

  And with that prayer, she reconciled herself to a long wait.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  As promised, Mrs. Armitage brought Novella her luncheon on a tray but did not even put her head in the door. She simply unlocked it and quickly pushed the tray through the crack.

  Novella had considered attempting to force the door back, but she felt too tired and weak.

  “How is Mama?” she shouted as she heard the lock snapping fast once more.

  But no reply came from Mrs. Armitage.

  The sun had begun its long descent in the sky by the time that Novella once again heard the sound of horse’s hooves outside.

  Then came the voice that immediately made her feel better –

  “My Lady! My Lady! We are back and I’ve brought Mr. Longridge with me.”

  Standing down in the garden, looking pleased with himself, was Charles.

  “Where is he?” Novella cried, unable to see neither hide nor hair of Mr. Longridge.

  “He be in his carriage at the front.”

  “Charles, will you ask him to go at once to Mrs. Armitage and demand that she lets me out of my room?”

  “Right away, my Lady.”

  It seemed to take forever before she heard the sound of her bedroom door being unlocked. The door flew open and in walked Mr. Longridge, wearing an anxious look on his face.

  “Lady Novella! Are you harmed?”

  Novella ran up to him and took his hand, squeezing it warmly.

  “I am quite well, thank you. A little upset, but apart from that, I am fine.”

  “What was that devil thinking of? Locking you in your own room?”

  “He is attempting to gain access to my bank account and thinks that if he confines me, I will sign this.”

  Novella handed him the sheet of paper that her stepfather had left earlier.

  “Well,” said Mr. Longridge, after reading it, “I am no solicitor but I cannot see that this will help him in his quest. I think you will find that your father’s will is watertight and no amount of so-called clever lawyers will be able to make it otherwise.”

  “That is such a relief,” murmured Novella, “now, come please to Papa’s library – it is not safe to speak freely here.”

  Novella noticed that Mrs. Armitage had pocketed the key to her room again and it made her feel uneasy.

  Opening the door to her father’s library, Novella ushered in Mr. Longridge. He looked round appreciatively.

  “Ah, yes, very much your father’s taste. But where is the painting of the hunt at Thaxby?”

  “I fear it has been sold, like many other valuable commodities in this house.”

  “The man is a scoundrel!” exclaimed Mr. Longridge, sitting down in the comfortable leather chair that Novella offered him. “And I repeat, you really must have no fears that he will be able lay his hands on your father’s secret fund – it is beyond his reach.”

  “I am very glad of that. But there is one thing that puzzles me.”

  “Pray tell, what is that?”

  “I am mystified as to how you persuaded Mrs. Armitage to let me out of my room. She is so scared of my stepfather that she does whatever he commands. The only time she defies him – and it is not really true defiance – is when she sits with my Mama for hours at a time, nursing her. Otherwise, she is completely in Lord Buckton’s
thrall. It is as if he had some power over her – ”

  “The power to turn her over to an Officer of the law, I’ll be bound.”

  Novella looked at him in astonishment.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I have been doing a little detective work since you came to my office and I have discovered that our Mrs. Armitage has been in trouble with the law. Lord Buckton’s father had her arrested over the matter of some disappearing silver. Of course, then the old Lord died and the case never went to court. So, as you can see, all I had to do was threaten to call the Police to the Hall and she capitulated.”

  “How very clever of you!” cried Novella, clapping her hands in delight. “I had wondered what bound her to Lord Buckton with such fierce loyalty.”

  “But my Lady, it is not safe for you to stay here. I would suggest that you flee for the night, if that is possible. Do you have somewhere you could go?”

  “But I cannot leave Mama,” she protested, “she lies seriously ill – perhaps dying.”

  “Lady Novella, I cannot guarantee your safety if you stay here when Lord Buckton returns. A man who would lock you up like an animal would not hesitate to go further if he comes home and finds that, not only have you been freed, but you have also refused to sign that document.”

  Novella thought upon his words – he was right, of course. But where could she go? She did not have a single friend in the neighbourhood apart from Sir Edward. Could she possibly turn to him in her moment of need?

  “Well, Sir Edward Moreton had said that I could visit at any time to see Salamander – ” she said aloud.

  “He is a decent man and surely if he knew you were in danger, he would not turn you away? If you are concerned that it would not be proper – a single young lady staying with a single young gentleman – then I would imagine that his housekeeper would act as chaperone.”

  “No, it is not that. I am certain that Sir Edward would be the very model of gentlemanly conduct and would do nothing to put my reputation in danger – ” sighed Novella, “it is the fact that he is an old friend of my stepfather’s family – it would not bode well for him should he be seen to be involved with our family quarrels.”