In Search of Love

by Barbara Cartland

A torrent of Italian poured from him. Vanda, who had studied the language, but with no opportunity to practise it, listened intently and could translate a great many flattering things about herself.

  While she seemed to devote all her attention to Piero, she managed a sideways glance that showed her that the Countess was talking intently with Robert. She heard her own name mentioned and guessed that he was telling her story, as they had worked it out together. At the same time she could see that the lady was making eyes at him.

  “Of course you did not understand me,” Piero said. “I shall take great pleasure in telling you again in English.”

  “But I did understand,” Vanda said. “Some of it, anyway.

  “You know my language?”

  “A little, but my understanding is very poor.”

  “You understand bella?”

  Vanda laughed.

  “Yes, I understand that word.”

  “And bellissima?”

  “That too.”

  He was holding her hand between both his as he launched into a speech of ardent admiration. Vanda had to try hard to suppress an impulse to giggle.

  At the same time, she was enjoying herself.

  The conversation became general. The Count and Countess explained that they were visiting Paris to experience the Exposition. Tomorrow they would return to their Chateau, where there was to be a grand ball in the evening.

  “To which, of course, you are both invited,” the Countess said.

  “What do you think?” Robert asked her.

  “I would love to accept,” Vanda enthused.

  “Oh, grazie!” Piero exclaimed. “Renderai tutto meraviglioso con la tua presenza.”

  “That's very kind of you,” she said.

  “Danzeremo assieme tutti i balli.”

  “Not every one –” she protested.

  But Piero's voice rose in wild declaration.

  “Ammazzero il primo che si provera di ballare con te.”

  He delivered a smacking kiss on her hand and seemed likely to continue up her arm but for Robert, who coughed loudly.

  Piero seemed to return to himself as from a dream.

  “He is glad that we are coming to the ball,” Vanda translated, self-consciously.

  “So I see,” Robert said.

  Piero seemed to become aware of a chill in his manner.

  “You permit?” he asked, still holding Vanda's hand like a trophy. “You are not offended that I bow down in tribute to La Signora?”

  “Is that what you're doing?” Robert muttered, just audibly.

  Aloud he said,

  “It is entirely a matter for my sister what she permits or does not permit. However, I think she is ready to retire. It is very late and she is tired after a long journey.”

  “Am I?” Vanda asked.

  “Certainly you are. We shall have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow. I believe you said you wanted to see the Eiffel Tower.”

  “But it will be my pleasure to show you the Tower,”

  Piero volunteered at once. “I will call on you early tomorrow morning.”

  “That will be lovely,” Vanda smiled, before Robert could speak.

  “And we will see you in the evening, at the ball,” the Countess said.

  With smiles and compliments the party broke up and Robert escorted his 'sister' to her room.

  “Come inside for a moment,” she said, her eyes sparkling with anger. “I have something to say to you.”

  “And I have something to say to you,” he replied, following her inside and closing the door behind him.

  Vanda turned on him, eyes flashing.

  “How dare you order me to bed!” she snapped wrathfully. “I am not a child and I am not really your sister.”

  “That is only too evident. Any sister of mine would behave with more propriety.”

  “I behaved with perfect propriety.”

  “Well, if you call it proper for a man you have barely met to treat your hand as though it was his personal plaything –”

  “He did no such thing.”

  “I thought he was going to detach it and take it home with him. I am very sure he would have liked to.”

  Vanda gave a choke of laughter and found Robert's chilly eyes on her.

  “I amuse you, ma'am?” he asked austerely.

  “It just sounded so funny.”

  “It was not intended.”

  “You are making far too much fuss about a trivial incident. Just because a handsome young man flirts with me –”

  “Was that all he was doing? Flirting? Tell me about that little conversation you were having in Italian?”

  “He said my presence at the ball would make everything lovely,” Vanda recited. “I said he was too kind. He said we would dance every dance together. I said it couldn't be every dance, and he said he would kill any other man who tried to dance with me. That is all.”

  “All?” Robert echoed, appalled. “You have only just met him.”

  “Well, nobody understood the conversation.”

  “Thank goodness!”

  Robert was at a loss to explain his own behaviour. One part of him realised why Vanda, a girl whose life had hitherto been sadly restricted, wanted to exult in her new freedom.

  But the other part of him had received a nasty shock. This was not the Vanda he had thought he was accompanying. She was more exuberant, more flirtatious, and – yes, more feminine than he had ever known her.

  The intimacy of their travel arrangements began to seem slightly improper. The thought had not occurred to him, but that was when he had seen her purely as a sister.

  Now she was looking less like a sister every moment.

  Just what she did look like was something he had yet to decide.

  “You know nothing about Piero,” Vanda said, “and you have no right to criticise him. Or me.”

  “I did not precisely criticise you –” he said lamely.

  “You have accused me of behaving improperly with a man!”

  “You attach too much to a few intemperate words,” he replied. “Perhaps I spoke hastily – if I did I apologise. But you should behave with circumspection.”

  “I have behaved with circumspection for the last two years. My mourning is over. You said so yourself.”

  “In this fantasy world you have created I may have said so. In reality –”

  “Who cares about reality?” Vanda asked with an airy gesture. “I have had enough of reality. Now I want something else and this is the only way I am ever going to get it.”

  “I merely ask you to be a little restrained in the liberties that you permit to men.”

  “May I remind you, that it is entirely a matter for your sister what she permits or does not permit? Those were your very words.”

  “I must have been out of my mind. I was naturally assuming that 'my sister' had some idea of decorum.”

  “You assumed no such thing. Besides, a widow is allowed a great deal more licence than an unmarried girl.”

  “But you are not a widow!”

  “But the men think I am. Isn't it fun?”

  He drew himself up to his full height.

  “I see it is useless to speak to you,” he said with dignity. “I shall retire and leave you to your own reflections.”

  “What a good idea,” she agreed affably. “I am looking forward to my reflections.”

  He gave her a quelling look. But, as it entirely failed to quell her, he withdrew to his own room.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “The Paris Exposition is intended to mark the centenary of the French Revolution,” Vanda recited.

  She was reading aloud from a booklet she had found in her room the previous evening. She had read it from end to end, then again when she dressed and now she was reading it once more over breakfast.

  She had insisted on eating the first meal of the day in the downstairs restaurant, saying that this would enable them to “watch the Parisian world go by.”

  Robert only w
ished he could stifle a feeling that she wanted to be sure of seeing Piero arrive.

  “There are numerous museums and exhibitions,” she continued, “but the most spectacular of all is the Eiffel Tower. Built by Gustave Eiffel, it stands three hundred metres high and is the tallest building in the world. “It is lit by ten thousand gas lamps, while two floodlights cast their beams over Paris.

  “I sat at my window and watched it last night,” she added, lowering the leaflet. “With all those lights twinkling in the dark, I could see it even from this distance. Oh, I just cannot wait to visit it.”

  “And we will visit it, just as soon as you have finished your breakfast,” Robert said. “But that will take a long time since you are doing more reading than eating.” She dropped the leaflet and began to tuck in.

  “Stop pretending not to care,” she said. “You were looking out at the Tower too.”

  “I was not.”

  “You were. I walked out onto my balcony and I could clearly see you at your window.”

  “It is a great monument,” he said defensively. “Naturally I take a polite interest.”

  Vanda gave a discreet chuckle, which he pretended not to hear.

  Glancing at her a moment later he was disconcerted to see her rising from her seat, a delighted smile on her face.

  Looking round, Robert saw Piero advancing, his hands outstretched to Vanda. Behind him was an extremely handsome man of about the same age.

  “Signora,” Piero said, taking Vanda's hands and kissing them one by one, “it is such a joy to see you again. All night I have dreamed of your beauty and I have told my friend François so much about you, that he has insisted on coming with me this morning, so that I can prove I did not exaggerate!”

  François turned out to be the eldest son of Count Guilbert de Fontellac, whom they had met the previous day. He greeted Robert with deep respect.

  “We met once before when you were visiting my parents,” he said. “I am honoured to meet you again.”

  Having taken care of the courtesies, he turned and greeted Vanda effusively.

  “My friend Piero cannot stop talking about this wonderful lady he has met and I too must meet her,” he announced, kissing Vanda's hands as well.

  Robert groaned inwardly.

  The two young men pulled up chairs and joined them at the table, both full of eagerness for the day ahead of them.

  “There are so many sights to see and explore,” François enthused. “And we shall so much enjoy showing them to you.”

  “Then perhaps we should leave now,” Robert suggested.

  “You do not need to come if you don't want to,” Piero said quickly. “Perhaps you have old friends you would like to visit. You can leave the Signora in our capable hands with an easy mind.”

  Robert regarded him wryly.

  “I think not,” he replied.

  “But there is no need to trouble you if you would rather be doing something else,” Vanda said sweetly.

  “But then I would miss the Eiffel Tower,” he told her. “And I am longing to see the Eiffel Tower. I wouldn't miss it for the world. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Perfectly,” she said, pulling a face.

  “Good.” He lowered his voice and spoke close to her ear, so that his breath fanned her skin. “Because if you imagine for one moment that I am going to leave you alone with this pair of addle-pates, you are very much mistaken.”

  Vanda turned her head slightly so that she was looking directly into his eyes. She could still feel his warm breath, only now it was whispering against her lips. She steeled herself against such a pleasant sensation and assumed an ironic tone.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” he replied. “So remember that, madam, and behave yourself!”

  “I am not going to get the chance to do anything else, am I?” she retorted.

  “I am glad you understand that. Now, shall we go?”

  “There is not a lot of point now you have spoiled all my fun.”

  “On the contrary, the Eiffel Tower is considered to be most instructive. You will have enormous fun climbing the steps.”

  She gave him a withering look, but did not risk challenging him further.

  Besides, there was no need. She knew plenty of ways of getting her own back.

  It was a lovely sunny day as the four of them climbed into an open carriage and drove the two miles to the Eiffel Tower. From a distance they could see it, rearing up against the sky like a beautiful spider's web.

  When at last they were standing beneath the huge arch, looking up, Vanda said,

  “How do we get up there?”

  “We walk,” Robert said. “The lifts have not opened yet.”

  “Most of them have not,” François corrected him. “But just one is working. Follow me.”

  He led the way to one of the four corners where the lifts were situated and joined the queue that was waiting there. As it was quite early, the queue was still fairly short and soon the doors were opening.

  Vanda watched anxiously as the lift filled up with those in front of them. At the last moment Robert took her hand and drew her quickly in. The doors shut and they were rising, leaving Piero and François behind.

  “You did that on purpose!” she accused him. “Don't deny it.”

  “Far from denying it, I am proud of it. If I had to listen to any more from that pair of ninnies I would have done something desperate.”

  “There's no need to call them ninnies just because they admire me.”

  Robert gave her a smile that was obscurely disturbing.

  “You do not need admiration from them, Vanda.”

  She looked up at him, her head on one side.

  “I didn't say I needed it, only that I enjoy it.”

  “And what happens when it's time to come down to earth?”

  “I don't think we will ever come down to earth,” she sighed, deliberately changing his meaning and looking at the world that was swiftly falling away beneath them.

  “You could be right,” he said, so quietly that she could not hear him properly.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” he said hastily. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Of course I am,” she declared firmly.

  In truth she was beginning to feel a little nervous. If she had been asked whether she was afraid of heights, she would have said that she was not, but she had never experienced height like this.

  The Tower was a lattice work of steel girders, with spaces between that gave a clear view of the fast receding ground. It was like flying and nothing in her whole life had prepared her for such an experience.

  Almost unconsciously she reached out and felt her hand clasped in his firm, powerful grip.

  At last the lift stopped. She felt too tense to move, but he drew her gently forward, out onto the platform.

  The wind took them by surprise. She gasped and swayed, feeling Robert's clasp tighten.

  “It's all right,” he said. “I am holding you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure. Do you want to go back down?”

  “No, I want to go to the edge.”

  “I don't think you should?”

  “But it is quite safe really,” she said bravely. “The rail is too high to fall over.”

  Still holding him she moved cautiously to the edge and looked over.

  “Look at the ground,” she cried. “It's so far away.”

  “Yes, it is magnificent, isn't it?” he agreed.

  For a moment they forgot everything else and stood gazing down in wonder.

  “The world looks so different from here,” she exclaimed in amazement. “I never thought it could be like this.”

  “No, it's like being able to see for ever,” he said.

  She turned and smiled at him. He smiled back. In the same moment they both became aware that he was still holding her and she was still clinging on to him.

  Neither of them moved.
On that high breezy platform it was as though time had stopped so that the world spun around them and they remained, motionless, in the centre.

  Vanda drew in a deep breath of joy. She was growing accustomed to the height and beginning to pick out details of the incredible view.

  At last she turned to look at Robert to find him gazing back at her, stunned. She wanted to say something, but there was nothing to say.

  “Ah, there you are! We wondered if you had both been lost.”

  Like automatons they turned to see where the voice had come from, and found Piero and François advancing on them.

  They pulled apart with jerky movements.

  “You should be more careful, Vanda,” Robert said, speaking roughly.

  “Yes,” she said, scarcely knowing what she said. “Yes, of course.”

  It seemed to her that he turned away from her abruptly, striding off along the platform and leaving her with her two cavaliers.

  She remained with them for the rest of the visit. Sometimes she would see Robert in the distance, deep in conversation with an official of the Tower, apparently discussing some technical point. It must have been absorbing, because never once did he glance up at her.

  Piero and François put themselves out to entertain her, making sallies, joking with each other and laughing immoderately when she ventured to make a witticism.

  At last she became annoyed by Robert's refusal to meet her eye. Plainly he regretted the moment of silent, intense communication and was warning her that it meant nothing.

  Very well. It meant nothing to her either and she would make that plain to him.

  Nothing could have been merrier than the way she flirted with both young men, teasing them one by one, then together, with the supreme assurance of a woman who realised her own power.

  And nothing could have been more indifferent than Robert's behaviour. He descended from the Tower with a handful of leaflets to sit in the carriage, absorbed in reading them and apparently oblivious to everything around him. As they drew up outside the hotel, François was saying,

  “Then it is all settled.”

  “What is settled?” Robert enquired.

  “We are going to the opera tonight,” Vanda told him.

  “My parents rent a box which we may use,” François explained. “We will call for you at seven o'clock.”

  He kissed Vanda's right hand. Piero kissed her left hand.