An Unexpected Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “No, not at all. But one that needs tender care. I shall leave him to rest in your stables for another day, with your permission, and accept your kind offer of one of your father’s mounts.”

  He pulled on his dark blue coat as he spoke and the boyish-looking gentleman immediately became the well dressed aristocrat.

  Ravina was just about to tell him that he still had a streak of mud down one tanned cheek, when one of the grooms appeared, leading a big bay horse in one hand and Sweetie in the other.

  “Oh, that is Galahad,” she cried. “He is a strong and fast hunter. I am sure he will suit you perfectly.”

  Sir Richard swung himself into the saddle and watched gravely as she nimbly mounted and turned the mare’s head towards the track that ran away across the fields.

  “My route lies close to yours, I believe,” he announced suddenly. “Perhaps it would be acceptable to you if we rode together?”

  Ravina paused.

  She had meant to gallop but knew his mount would soon outstrip hers. But he was a guest of the house and she knew her parents would expect her to treat him with all due courtesy.

  “That would be pleasant,” she said and together they trotted towards the woods that lay between Curbishley Hall and the Priory.

  The narrow path made riding abreast difficult and Ravina pushed ahead along the mossy track.

  The woods were beautiful, dark and mysterious. Occasionally she heard the sudden crack of a branch breaking and a flock of small birds burst through the undergrowth, and guessed that some deer were making their way through the dappled shade to drink at one of the lakes.

  She glanced back several times and realised that Sir Richard too was obviously very intrigued by his surroundings.

  His reins were quite lax in his hands and he was letting Galahad pick his own way down the track.

  Sir Richard’s gaze swept the woods from side to side, almost as if he was searching for something.

  “You are obviously enjoying our woods, Sir Richard,” Ravina called over her shoulder.

  “Indeed. They are extremely fine. Good, old timber. Very dense, I see. You could hide an army in these woods and never see it. Do you always ride this way when visiting the Priory?”

  “I do like to visit the woods whenever I can. I love them so much. I have seen deer, badgers, foxes – oh, and every type of bird. But, I have never actually visited the Priory before. It was in a state of disrepair for so many years when I was a child. I suppose it would be far easier to go through the village by road, but Sweetie needs the exercise.”

  “I see that the trees are thinning out ahead. Shall we race to the top of the hill, Lady Ravina?”

  Ravina was surprised. She would never have thought that Sir Richard was the type of man to indulge in such frivolity.

  But she was aching to gallop and with a chuckle she urged her mare forward.

  The two horses burst out of the woods and Sir Richard sighed in relief. The heavy-leafed trees and bushes hid too much from his gaze for his liking.

  He had not been joking when he mentioned hiding an army in the woods’ depths.

  But it was not an army of men he was worried about – but just one man! A very evil one at that.

  The smooth turf of the Downs spun up under the hooves in flying clods as Ravina urged her mare on faster and faster.

  This was what she loved doing – her hat had slipped down her back and her hair streamed free in the wind.

  And she felt free, too. It was a marvellous sensation, escaping from the confines of Society to gallop across this beautiful country.

  She could hear Galahad’s heavier hooves thundering behind her, next Sir Richard was alongside and she caught a glimpse of him grinning at her as he passed her.

  At the top of the hill he reined in, only seconds before she arrived.

  “Well ridden, Lady Ravina!” he called, circling a snorting Galahad who was tossing his head, obviously pleased to have had such a good run.

  “There are not many young ladies who could stay ahead of this beast for so long. Your mare has a good turn of speed.”

  Ravina smiled and tried to tidy her hair, searching for clips that were long gone in the hectic ride. She finally found a piece of blue velvet ribbon in a pocket and tied her long blonde curls back severely from her face.

  “I would like to thank you, Sir Richard, for not letting me win,” she said. “Many men allow women to do so and I find it so annoying. It was a fair race and you won with the faster horse.”

  Sir Richard’s dark eyes gleamed briefly.

  “It would never have crossed my mind to allow you to win,” he said. “That would have been patronizing in the extreme.”

  “I agree, but unfortunately, most men would find your attitude ungentlemanly. They would have let me win and praised me for my ability. I know women are not as physically strong as men, but that is no reason to treat us as if we are little children.”

  Sir Richard had managed to calm his horse and sat, gazing down the hillside at the panorama of the English countryside spread out before them.

  He loved this country with a depth of emotion that he could not put into words. Looking down at the patchwork of little fields, green, gold and brown, all neatly edged with hedges and trees, he knew he would do anything to protect it.

  “But you must admit, Lady Ravina, that there are times when a young lady can find herself in a situation she cannot handle by speed and flight alone.”

  Ravina hesitated.

  It seemed to her that there was a double meaning in his words, but she had no idea what it could possibly be.

  “We do have brains as well, Sir Richard. Hopefully, if it is a situation where physical prowess is not enough, then our ability to communicate will be useful and help us overcome whatever problems we face.”

  He smiled at her boundless optimism and, talking about a variety of subjects, they walked their horses slowly down the track towards the village.

  Sir Richard was keen to know about all the Dorset landmarks and Ravina was pleased that she could point with her crop and name all the hills and valleys in sight.

  In about half a mile a long stone wall marked the edge of the Priory estate, and very soon they reached the ornate black iron gates.

  “Well, here we must part. I trust your search for the perfect house will be successful,” Ravina said, feeling a sudden, unexpected pang of regret.

  She realised that she had thoroughly enjoyed her ride with Sir Richard.

  He was not the dour, critical man she had at first thought, but clever and interesting. He held views and opinions, but also listened to hers and did not insist that his were always right.

  Except for his ongoing belief that women were unable to look after themselves!

  Sir Richard leant across his saddle and shook her hand.

  “I will take my leave of you. I hope you have a very pleasant day,” he said and turning Galahad, he trotted off along the road towards the village.

  Ravina watched him go. He rode so well, at one with his horse.

  Sighing for no reason that she could fathom, she made her way up the drive towards the Priory and her appointment with Sir Michael Moore.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Trotting up the drive between the neatly laid out gardens, Ravina was once again impressed by the amount of work that had been done to the Priory to bring it back from a dilapidated state to its present glory.

  Twisted chimney pots reared up against the bright blue sky. Over the years ivy and wisteria had been left to run riot over its walls, even hiding the windows and giving the building a frightening aspect from the road, especially to small children.

  Even the village urchins had not dared to climb the stone walls that surrounded the immediate grounds and trespass in the orchards to scrump the fruit, even though the gnarled old trees gave copious bushel loads of apples, plums and pears every year.

  The grounds had remained untouched for years, a rough wilderness for wild life. Foxes and badgers
had made their home in the undergrowth. Bats had flown around the eaves and owls could always be heard at night.

  Ravina could remember quite clearly a time when she had been about four or five. She had had a nursemaid, one of the village girls, Beatrice Watson, who worked under Nanny Johnson’s strict regime.

  Beatrice had delighted in creeping into the night nursery and telling little Ravina as she cowered under the sheets that ghosts and ghouls lived in the Priory.

  She used to threaten to send her there to stay if she was naughty.

  As the years passed, Ravina realised it had not been until she had told Nanny Johnson why she was so scared and having nightmares, that Beatrice had suddenly left and returned to Rosbourne to live with her brother Joe.

  Now, as Ravina rode up the drive, there was nothing about the Priory that could scare any child.

  All the vines had been ruthlessly cut back and trained across the walls. Rambling roses and clematis had been added to the trelliswork on the grey stones and their pale yellow and white flowers softened the austere appearance.

  As Ravina arrived at the entrance, an ostler in a black and yellow uniform appeared and helped her to dismount, listening carefully to her instructions as to Sweetie’s welfare following her ride.

  A smartly dressed butler opened the door before she rang the bell.

  “Will you come this way, my Lady. Sir Michael is waiting for you in the study.”

  He preceded her across a wide panelled hall, its walls hung with oil paintings of Moore ancestors and tapestries depicting ancient battles.

  Two suits of armour stood on either side of the foot of the stairs. A metal arm on each was raised high in the air, one holding an axe, the other a wickedly sharp sword.

  Ravina shuddered slightly. She had never cared too much for weapons and armour and these looked so lifelike.

  She fancied that she could feel eyes following her across the hall.

  Ravina felt that the overall effect of the entrance hall was far too dark and old–fashioned, but she did know that gentlemen did not always care for lighter colours around them.

  “Lady Ravina Ashley, Sir Michael.”

  Ravina entered the small study which was lined from floor to ceiling with books. A huge globe stood on an ornate stand and imposing busts of ancient Greeks and Romans gazed down from niches set in the bookcases.

  Ravina peered through the gloom.

  The heavy red velvet curtains were half drawn to keep out the sunshine and she felt a wild desire to fling open the windows, and let the country breeze wash away the overpowering smell of leather, smoke and years of male occupancy!

  Dressed in dark brown country tweeds, Sir Michael rose from his desk and came towards her, his hand outstretched in greeting.

  His plain but kindly face was shining with pleasure.

  “Welcome, Lady Ravina. Welcome to my home. I trust I find you in good health? I was so afraid you might forget that you had promised to come and see what I have achieved here and what still needs to be done.”

  “How could I forget, Sir Michael? I have been looking forward to it so much,’ Ravina replied quickly, touching her fingers to his and pushing aside the fact that it had been Dulcie who had reminded her of today’s engagement.

  “And I must tell you, Sir Michael, that I am most impressed by what I have already seen. It seems to me that you have worked quite a few miracles.”

  “I was saddened when I first arrived and found the house had fallen into such disrepair. And I must admit to feeling proud that it is now halfway back to what a building of its age and prestige should look like.”

  He clapped his hands together enthusiastically and Ravina tried not to jump at the sudden noise.

  “But do allow me to show you around before luncheon is served. There are many aspects on which I need a woman’s advice and I am sure your artistic eye will help me see matters in a different light.”

  Ravina smiled and followed him out of the study. It was always pleasing to have your abilities admired.

  Sir Michael led the way across the hall to a charming sunny room with French windows that opened out onto a paved terrace at the back of the house.

  The proportions of the room were lovely, the furniture good and highly polished. Only the curtains and coverings of the sofas and chairs seemed dull and old–fashioned.

  Ravina enthused about the size and outlook of the room, admired the furniture and made what she hoped were informed comments about the ornaments and pictures.

  Then she ran her fingers down the material of the drapes at the window and turned to Sir Michael.

  “Well, here is one thing I can help you with straight away – these curtains are – ”

  “Yes, they are extremely fine, are they not? You will probably not be surprised to learn that your cousin chose the material and found a local seamstress to make them. They change the whole aspect of the room, I think. I am so indebted to Miss Allen. As you yourself will be aware, she has extremely good taste and has been most helpful.”

  Ravina bit back the words ‘dull and old – fashioned’ before they could leave her lips.

  Of course these were curtains of Dulcie’s choosing. They were exactly what she would have expected her cousin to suggest. Safe and boring.

  “Indeed, they do give a very – interesting depth to the room,” she responded, choosing her words with great care. “Dulcie obviously shares your taste in decoration, Sir Michael.”

  To Ravina’s surprise, a strong brick colour flooded across Sir Michael’s round face.

  “Miss Allen has kindly given up her valuable time to offer me some assistance in the early stages of the Priory’s restoration, especially in the rooms I use the most,” he murmured. “But, of course, it is the vital finishing touches in the more public rooms that are so important, are they not?

  “Although, as you know, I have a small house in London, I am not au fait with all the latest fashions, as I am sure you are. And I am determined that when the members of our County circle come to call, they will find nothing to upset their sensibilities.

  “Now, let me show you some of the rooms that still need to be reformed. The dining room, in particular, is not right. Our luncheon will soon be served there.”

  Ravina cast a longing glance out onto the sunny terrace. It would have been far more than pleasant to have eaten out of doors on a day such as today, but instead she obediently followed her host into the long dark dining room.

  An oxtail soup that was far too hot and too thick for a summer’s day was followed by a heavy steak and kidney pie, its glistening golden crust swimming in gravy.

  The footman poured red wine, but Ravina did not touch it. She toyed with her food, staring in despair at the great dark oil paintings that hung on every wall.

  The one directly in front of her showed a slavering wolf bringing down a poor pathetic deer during a hunt. There was a great deal of scarlet paint!

  She sighed and averted her gaze.

  She could think of nothing more likely to put someone off their food than the sight of all that blood.

  “So, Lady Ravina, do tell me, can you see how to improve this room in your mind’s eye? When I hold my house-warming party, it will be in constant use and I must give the right impression to my guests.”

  “Perhaps some of the paintings could be moved to different locations,” Ravina suggested desperately.

  “Oh, do you think so?” Sir Michael took a large mouthful of steak and kidney and chewed vigorously.

  “Miss Allen thought they were very fine, although she did propose that they needed to be grouped differently on the walls.”

  Ravina pushed her plate to one side.

  She was beginning to be intrigued by his insistence on Dulcie’s involvement.

  Why had Sir Michael invited her, apparently for her opinion, when it was quite obvious her cousin had already been asked for her help?

  “Dulcie is a dear, dear creature,” she said, gratefully accepting a plate of iced f
ruits from the footman.

  “Oh, indeed. A most refined and genteel lady. One can only be sorry for the unfortunate troubles that have left her in such distressing circumstances.”

  “Her father, my Papa’s cousin, was sadly ill-advised with his investments.”

  Sir Michael took a sip of wine and frowned.

  “Indeed, I believe from my conversations with your cousin that what happened could have been called a criminal offence. Am I correct, some man – I will not give him the courtesy of calling him a gentleman – blatantly lied and cheated her father out of all of his money?”

  Ravina nodded. She had only met Mr. Allen and Dulcie once before their lives had changed so dramatically and that had been at a family party when she was very small.

  Now she could not remember the details about Dulcie’s fall into poverty. She had only been told that her cousin would be coming to Curbishley Hall as housekeeper and would be a companion for Ravina when she was in Dorset.

  Obviously, Ravina had heard gossip from the servants in the weeks that followed, but Dulcie herself had said very little on the subject.

  Ravina had felt it would be impolite and hurtful to ask her questions. Bringing up the past could only cause Dulcie distress and so she had not pressed her for details.

  “To lose your station in life must be hard and especially so for one such as Miss Allen who has such an appreciation for the finer aspects of life. How lucky it was for her that your father stepped in to help.”

  “My parents would never let a family member suffer if they could possibly prevent it,” Ravina replied warmly. “My father has very strong views on loyalty and duty.”

  “And she has told me that she will always be thankful to him.”

  Sir Michael cut himself a large slice of cheese and speared it with the end of his knife.

  “Miss Allen owes Lord Ashley a great debt of gratitude,” he continued. “I believe she would never leave, even if an offer of another position was made to her. Is that your opinion, Lady Ravina?”

  Ravina looked up, startled, the melting ice sliding off her spoon and splashing onto the tablecloth.

  “I cannot believe my parents would stand in Dulcie’s way if, say, she was to be offered the position of housekeeper at a larger establishment – dare I even say, one of the Royal households. Although I have never heard her speak of any inclination to leave.”