An Unexpected Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “I am sure you will be extremely useful,” Ravina said in a distracted fashion.

  How could she possibly talk about furnishings and servants’ quarters when her heart was breaking?

  Because that was how she felt and she was both anguished and angry with herself.

  She had to admit that Sir Richard had never given her any sort of encouragement.

  So why did she feel so bereft when she had never gained his affections in the first place?

  No, she lifted her chin and blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall.

  She was Lady Ravina Ashley and she would be as brave as all the other Ashley women had been in the past.

  She would indeed visit the Priory tomorrow for luncheon and, whatever she had said earlier to Sir Richard, she would make it clear to Sir Michael that she was not interested in furthering their relationship.

  Then the day after, she would set about returning her life to some semblance of normality.

  Ravina vowed that once he had left Curbishley Hall for good, she would never think of Sir Richard Crawford and his deep brown eyes again!

  She retired to her room as soon as it was polite to do so.

  She was determined not to be up and around when Sir Richard arrived.

  She lay in bed, unable to sleep at first, listening to the faint sounds of the clocks in the house striking the hours, wondering about the past few days and wishing her parents were home.

  She desperately wanted to hear what her father had to say about Sir Richard, to discover if there was some secret he was keeping from her.

  If she could hear something to his disadvantage, perhaps her liking of him would fade a little.

  “Oh, I do wish Mama were here. I need to talk to her so badly. She is so wise. She would know how to make me feel better.”

  Downstairs in the great hall, lamps had been left lit for Sir Richard’s arrival. A sleepy footman sat in the hall, trying to stay awake, waiting to see if he could be of any assistance.

  Dulcie was making her final rounds, checking that the lower windows had been latched tightly and that guards had been placed in front of the fires.

  She was about to retire to her room when the door bell rang and Stephen, the young footman, hurried to open the door for Sir Richard.

  Dulcie turned and walked back down the stairs.

  “Good evening, Sir Richard. Goodness, you look tired. Can I arrange for some food and drink for you?”

  Sir Richard slapped his riding gloves across his legs to remove the dust.

  “No, thank you, Miss Allen. I have dined already. A glass of brandy would be most welcome, however.”

  “Stephen will be pleased to attend you. I am about to retire but hope to see you in the morning before you leave.”

  Sir Richard bowed.

  “Indeed. And has Lady Ravina already retired?”

  “Yes, Sir Richard.”

  He turned as he was about to enter the drawing room.

  “Dreaming about her forthcoming marriage, no doubt.”

  Dulcie stared at him, bewildered.

  “Marriage?”

  “Lady Ravina told me today that she would be accepting the advances of Sir Michael Moore.”

  Dulcie felt the world spin round and round and was grateful that she was holding onto the banister otherwise she knew she would fall into a faint.

  “They are to marry? I-I – had no idea. Ravina has said nothing. Married? Well, you must excuse me, Sir Richard.I am feeling a little tired and will leave you to your brandy.”

  Aware of his penetrating glance that seemed to see so much, Dulcie stumbled her way upstairs to her room, thankful to be able to shut the door so that no one could see the tears that were now trickling down her face, washing away all the silly lingering dreams about Sir Michael that she had clung to for the past weeks.

  *

  Even though she was sure she would not, Ravina must have slept before dawn, because the sky was quite bright when she opened her eyes.

  She rang for Charity and gave orders for her breakfast to be served in her room. The hot tea and delicious fresh bread, newly churned butter and honey straight from the comb helped her feel better.

  Ravina bathed and dressed with renewed energy. She would cope with whatever life threw at her and not be discouraged.

  These feelings that had surfaced inside her for Sir Richard were surely only passing fancies, nothing more.

  It was because she was alone or perhaps – and this was a sobering thought – because she had been flattered by the attention she received from men such as Giles de Lacy, Robert Dunster and Sir Michael, that she had expected every man she met to feel the same for her.

  Well, she had discovered the error of her ways.

  Sir Richard would soon be a married man and she had no time at all for girls who cast their hats at men who were already engaged.

  The house lay still and quiet when she ran downstairs. Somewhere nearby one of the footmen was whistling and she could hear the housemaids cleaning the grates and the parlour maid laying the table for breakfast.

  She had snatched up a hat as she left her bedroom. She knew Dulcie would be distressed if she rode out again bareheaded in the hot sunshine.

  Ravina glanced at the clock in the hall as she passed. It was still very early but she was determined to be out of the house before Sir Richard and her cousin appeared.

  “Admittedly I dare not arrive at the Priory too early for luncheon. That would be the height of bad manners, but I can ride through the woods for a while and calm my mind.”

  A groom swiftly saddled Sweetie and she was just turning out of the stable yard when someone stepped out of the shadows and grasped the horse’s bridle, bringing her to a halt.

  It was Sir Richard!

  “Lady Ravina – riding out early again?”

  Ravina pulled the bridle out of his hands, but could not urge Sweetie forward with him standing in her path.

  “Why yes, Sir Richard. I am on my way to visit my fiancé”. We are planning a party to announce our engagement, so I would beg you not to delay me.”

  Sir Richard scowled darkly.

  “Allow me to accompany you – or – he went on ruthlessly, seeing the refusal on her face – “take a groom with you. There have been reports of a band of ruffians abroad in the countryside near here.”

  Ravina tossed her head.

  “What nonsense is this? You have been listening to alehouse gossip by the sound of it, Sir Richard. I would have been told of any danger in this area. The staff here is always extra vigilant for my safety when my parents are away on one of their European trips.”

  “I must still insist – ”

  “Insist, sir?” Ravina’s temper was beginning to fray.How dare he accost her and act in this fashion, as if she was just a silly child.

  “Well, I insist that you stand out of my way and let me be. Keep your advice for your fiancée!”

  She tightened the reins, turned Sweetie’s head and urged her on, ignoring Sir Richard’s shout as the horse leapt forward, almost sending him flying into the mud of the stable yard.

  Ravina galloped across the fields, leapt a hedge at the far side and did not stop until she was deep inside the woods.

  She was so angry. That wretched man!

  She had never met anyone before who could annoy her so much. The unknown woman who was to become his wife was welcome to him!

  Eventually, after her headstrong flight, she realised that Sweetie was tiring and eased her down into a walk.

  Suddenly Ravina remembered a little stream that ran through the woods. She turned the weary mare and pushed through the bushes and undergrowth.

  Yes, there was the little clearing she recalled with a sparkling trickle of water running down a stony bed over a little waterfall.

  She slid out of the saddle, led Sweetie up to the water and let her drink a little, remembering that she must not have too much while she was hot.

  Then she tethered her loosely t
o a branch and sat down on a big flat stone to calm herself and gather her wits before confronting Sir Michael.

  She realised that if she arrived looking hot and bothered, the gossips would start talking and her reputation would suffer.

  She shut her eyes and allowed memories of all her meetings with Sir Richard to flood her mind.

  They had fought and argued, but each time she had been in his company, she had felt more alive and happier than she had ever believed possible.

  Could it be – was this love?

  If it was, it was nothing to how she had once imagined it would feel.

  She had liked other men before, enjoyed their company, flirted, danced and even considered one or two as possible husbands.

  Ravina had always declared she would only marry for love. She had read of falling in love in so many romantic novels. She had thought it would be exciting, that she would feel butterflies in her stomach and that her heart would turn over every time she saw her loved one.

  “You are supposed to lose your appetite, to feel faint when you see your intended,” she murmured to a disinterested Sweetie.

  So what was this deep, tearing sensation inside her? Was this love, the way her stomach clenched whenever she saw Sir Richard’s tall dark figure?

  The fizzing sensation she felt in her blood when she heard his voice?

  Were all these symptoms of love? They were not mentioned in any of the many romances she had read or the ballads she had listened to all her life.

  Ravina sighed.

  Perhaps she was suffering from the onset of some illness? A bad chill could give you odd feelings.

  She determined to consult Nanny Johnson when she returned home this afternoon. Surely her old nurse could give her a tonic that would help to disperse these sensations.

  She sighed and raised her face to feel the sun as it gleamed through the branches.

  She closed her eyes.

  ‘I will rest here for two more minutes,’ she decided, ‘then I will make my way to the Priory and see if I can make it clear to Sir Michael that I am not the woman for him.’

  She felt the first smile of the morning cross her lips.

  Indeed, there was a perfect match for him already living at Curbishley Hall!

  She was convinced that warm feelings existed on both sides, but Sir Michael was being very male and silly about Dulcie’s position in Society.

  She frowned as a shadow fell across her face – the sun going behind a cloud–she opened her eyes and screamed.

  A man – Heavens, it was Joe Watson, Bobby’s father, standing right in front of her and even as Ravina started to jump to her feet, another man came up behind her and pulled her arms behind her back.

  She twisted round sharply and came face to face with the industrialist, Robert Dunster!

  “Mr. Dunster! Joe Watson. What are you doing – let me go at once! How dare you!”

  Ravina struggled violently and managed to tug herself free, but she had only taken a step away when Robert Dunster caught her again.

  She opened her mouth to scream, but his fleshy hand slapped against her mouth and she winced as he twisted her arm behind her back and began to propel her forward deep into the woods.

  She kicked out and heard Robert Dunster swear in a vile manner as her riding boot caught him on the knee, but he was too strong for her.

  Then Joe Watson was stepping up, an evil grin on his face, his big dirty hands tying a foul-tasting rag around her mouth.

  She was dragged between them, her feet scuffing in the earth until they reached a narrow road when she was suddenly picked up and half thrown, half pushed inside a closed carriage.

  She heard shouts and guessed that Joe had clambered up into the driving seat. Next came the crack of a whip, the jingle of bridles and the vehicle lurched forward.

  As the carriage careered through the woods, fear coursed through Ravina, but she still struggled to stand up, to fight back against her cruel kidnappers, until with a curse, a ruthless hand pushed her down onto the floor.

  She lay still for a while, trying to listen and work out where they were going. But the carriage twisted and turned, heading along a path through the woods.

  She heard the rumble of the wheels as they crossed a wooden bridge and then they were on a road and travelling faster than ever.

  Ravina gave up struggling. She realised there was no point. She must conserve her strength for when she was out of the carriage. Surely there would then be a chance to escape.

  Her brain was spinning.

  Had Robert Dunster gone mad? But he was not working alone. How could he have persuaded Joe Watson to help him in this mad dangerous escapade?

  Well, Joe had no love for the Ashley family – that was true. He had never forgiven her father for dismissing Beatrice from her post as nursery maid.

  ‘Oh, poor Bobby! To have such a man as your father,’ Ravina thought. ‘So his warnings to me about riding in the woods were right. But surely he isn’t involved, too. Oh, now, please God do not let young Bobby be part of this foul plot.’

  Suddenly the carriage swung violently round a corner and she was thrown against the side.

  She tried to scream, but the rag in her mouth was tied too tightly and she could only make a moaning noise.

  Robert Dunster lost his footing and fell between the seats and in the confusion Ravina managed to scramble upright.

  She pushed her head through the open window in an effort to see where they were. But they were travelling too fast. All she could see was a blur of trees and bushes as they thundered past.

  The wind tore her hair free from its pins and in desperation she tugged off the remaining blue velvet ribbon and flung it away, just as Robert Dunster regained his footing.

  Still struggling, she was pulled back inside the coach and thrown against the side panels, banging her head.

  For a second Ravina saw bright orange lights, then all was dark –

  CHAPTER NINE

  The next thing Ravina knew was that it seemed as though Charity had forgotten to pull the curtains and someone, somewhere was moaning quietly.

  The room was too dark, Ravina’s head ached dreadfully and she did not understand why her normal lace pillow had become rough and scratchy and had a dreadful smell.

  She tried to sit up and groaned at the pain that lanced through her skull.

  She touched her head just under the hairline and winced as her fingers came away covered in sticky blood.

  It was all coming back to her now.

  Robert Dunster had kidnapped her! She still could not believe it. What did he intend to do with her?

  ‘Oh, dear God, help me,’ Ravina prayed. ‘He must have gone mad. This is not the behaviour of a sane person. I must escape from him.’

  She swung her legs off the rough bed and gazed at her prison.

  She was in a dark dingy attic.

  There were wooden shutters at the window and she could see sunlight glinting round the edge of the frames, but when she tried to open them, she realised that they had been nailed shut.

  She stared around in desperation, then stumbled to the door and rattled the handle hard. But, as she had already suspected, it was locked fast.

  The little room contained nothing that would be useful as a weapon. There was just the truckle bed and a dusty rug on the floor. Not even a chair she could use to hit whoever came through the door.

  Ravina sat on the bed, her fists tightly clenched, fighting the desire to scream and cry.

  She was determined she would not show Robert Dunster how scared she was of him. She refused to give him that satisfaction.

  And if he–well, if he wanted some sort of sexual favour, then she would sell her honour as expensively as she could.

  Her thoughts flew back to home, to Dulcie. When would her cousin realise she was missing?

  ‘Oh, if only I had taken Sir Richard’s advice this morning,’ she wailed. ‘Why was I so silly, so full of pride? He suspected that something was wrong
in the neighbourhood, but surely even he could not have imagined this dreadful crime.’

  So what would happen now? Sir Michael was expecting her for luncheon, but when she failed to appear, he would think she had either forgotten or decided not to come.

  Would he be concerned?

  ‘I doubt it,’ Ravina muttered.

  She had the feeling that he was so engrossed in his own affairs that he would not worry about a young female’s flighty attitude to an appointment.

  Dulcie, of course, thought she was at the Priory and she had told Ravina she was going there herself in the afternoon to speak to Sir Michael’s housekeeper.

  Surely then Ravina’s disappearance would come to light?

  But then what?

  They would hunt, raise a hue and cry, find Sweetie – if the little mare had not slipped her reins and wandered off.

  Would they find traces of the carriage that had taken her out of the woods?

  Well, they might, but once the carriage had reached the road, how would they follow it?

  ‘Oh, God, give me strength to overcome this. Let me see my dear mother and father again.’

  And Sir Richard. The thought flashed into her mind but it seemed wrong to add him to her prayers.

  Sir Richard was soon to be married. He had no feelings for her and so she must have none for him.

  She pulled her mind away from memories of his dark eyes gazing intently down into hers as a sound outside the door brought her to quivering attention.

  As she watched, the handle turned and in came Robert Dunster, carrying a pistol and a small leather writing case tucked under his arm.

  “Ah, Lady Ravina. You are awake at last. Good.”

  Ravina spoke out firmly and clearly, determined not to allow her voice to tremble.

  “Mr. Dunster, I have no idea what wickedness you are planning, but I beg you to let me go before you travel any further down the evil path you are now treading.”

  The red-faced industrialist just sneered.

  “Tsk, tsk, your pretty words mean nothing to me, young lady. You can save your breath. All I need from you is a letter to your father. Here – paper, ink, pen. You will write what I dictate.”