A FLIGHT TO HEAVEN
BARBARA CARTLAND
www.barbaracartland.com
Copyright © 2013 by Cartland Promotions
First published on the internet in March 2013 by Barbaracartland.com
ISBNs
978-1-78213-347-6 Epub
978-1-78213-348-3 Mobi
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanically, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval, without the prior permission in writing from the publisher.
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A FLIGHT TO HEAVEN
Chiara then looked up to see a flock of great white swans flying with their long necks stretched out and their wings beating swiftly.
“Oh, you are just so beautiful!” she cried, as they sped past her like white arrows, the sun shining on their feathers. “Wait! Where are you going?”
She gathered up her skirts and ran after the swans, leaping over clumps of grass as she struggled to keep up.
‘I will never catch them,’ she thought, ‘they are so wild and free, but I cannot bear to lose sight of them.’
Ahead of her, she could see a mirror-like expanse of water, where one field had flooded with the winter rain and she gasped with delight as the swans turned in the sky and headed for the water. They were going to land there!
She then threw her hood back and stood, panting, to watch them, one by one, as they splashed down onto the water, legs waving and just for a moment she thought that they looked rather clumsy.
But next they ruffled and tidied their feathers and then they were gliding serenely over the water, their lovely necks arched and their proud eyes gazing all around.
THE BARBARA CARTLAND PINK COLLECTION
Barbara Cartland was the most prolific bestselling author in the history of the world. She was frequently in the Guinness Book of Records for writing more books in a year than any other living author. In fact her most amazing literary feat was when her publishers asked for more Barbara Cartland romances, she doubled her output from 10 books a year to over 20 books a year, when she was 77.
She went on writing continuously at this rate for 20 years and wrote her last book at the age of 97, thus completing 400 books between the ages of 77 and 97.
Her publishers finally could not keep up with this phenomenal output, so at her death she left 160 unpublished manuscripts, something again that no other author has ever achieved.
Now the exciting news is that these 160 original unpublished Barbara Cartland books are ready for publication and they will be published by Barbaracartland.com exclusively on the internet, as the web is the best possible way to reach so many Barbara Cartland readers around the world.
The 160 books will be published monthly and will be numbered in sequence.
The series is called the Pink Collection as a tribute to Barbara Cartland whose favourite colour was pink and it became very much her trademark over the years.
The Barbara Cartland Pink Collection is published only on the internet. Log on to www.barbaracartland.com to find out how you can purchase the books monthly as they are published, and take out a subscription that will ensure that all subsequent editions are delivered to you by mail order to your home.
If you do not have access to a computer you can write for information about the Pink Collection to the following address :
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Titles in this series
These titles are currently available for download. For more information please see the Where to buy page at the end of this book.
The Cross Of Love
Love In The Highlands
Love Finds The Way
The Castle Of Love
Love Is Triumphant
Stars In The Sky
The Ship Of Love
A Dangerous Disguise
Love Became Theirs
Love Drives In
Sailing To Love
The Star Of Love
Music Is The Soul Of Love
Love In The East
Theirs To Eternity
A Paradise On Earth
Love Wins In Berlin
In Search Of Love
Love Rescues Rosanna
A Heart In Heaven
The House Of Happiness
Royalty Defeated By Love
The White Witch
They Sought Love
Love Is The Reason For Living
They Found Their Way To Heaven
Learning To Love
Journey To Happiness
A Kiss In The Desert
The Heart Of Love
The Richness Of Love
For Ever And Ever
An Unexpected Love
Saved By An Angel
Touching The Stars
Seeking Love
Journey To Love
The Importance Of Love
Love By The Lake
A Dream Come True
The King Without A Heart
The Waters Of Love
Danger To The Duke
A Perfect Way To Heaven
Follow Your Heart
In Hiding
Rivals For Love
A Kiss From The Heart
Lovers In London
This Way To Heaven
A Princess Prays
Mine For Ever
The Earl’s Revenge
Love At The Tower
Ruled By Love
Love Came From Heaven
Love And Apollo
The Keys Of Love
A Castle Of Dreams
A Battle Of Brains
A Change Of Hearts
It Is Love
The Triumph Of Love
Wanted – A Royal Wife
A Kiss Of Love
To Heaven With Love
Pray For Love
The Marquis Is Trapped
Hide And Seek For Love
Hiding from Love
A Teacher Of Love
Money Or Love
The Revelation Is Love
The Tree Of Love
The Magnificent Marquis
The Castle
The Gates of Paradise
A Lucky Star
A Heaven on Earth
The Healing Hand
A Virgin Bride
The Trail to Love
A Royal Love Match
A Steeplechase for Love
Love at Last
Search for a Wife
Secret Love
A Miracle of Love
Love and the Clans
A Shooting Star
The Winning Post is Love
They Touched Heaven
The Mountain of Love
The Queen Wins
Love and the Gods
Joined by Love
The Duke is Deceived
A Prayer For Love
Love Conquers War
A Rose in Jeopardy
A Call of Love
A Flight to Heaven
THE LATE DAME BARBARA CARTLAND
Barbara Cartland, who sadly died in May 2000 at the grand age of ninety eight, remains one of the world’s most famous romantic no
velists. With worldwide sales of over one billion, her outstanding 723 books have been translated into thirty six different languages, to be enjoyed by readers of romance globally.
Writing her first book ‘Jigsaw’ at the age of 21, Barbara became an immediate bestseller. Building upon this initial success, she wrote continuously throughout her life, producing bestsellers for an astonishing 76 years. In addition to Barbara Cartland’s legion of fans in the UK and across Europe, her books have always been immensely popular in the USA. In 1976 she achieved the unprecedented feat of having books at numbers 1 & 2 in the prestigious B. Dalton Bookseller bestsellers list.
Although she is often referred to as the ‘Queen of Romance’, Barbara Cartland also wrote several historical biographies, six autobiographies and numerous theatrical plays as well as books on life, love, health and cookery. Becoming one of Britain's most popular media personalities and dressed in her trademark pink, Barbara spoke on radio and television about social and political issues, as well as making many public appearances.
In 1991 she became a Dame of the Order of the British Empire for her contribution to literature and her work for humanitarian and charitable causes.
Known for her glamour, style, and vitality Barbara Cartland became a legend in her own lifetime. Best remembered for her wonderful romantic novels and loved by millions of readers worldwide, her books remain treasured for their heroic heroes, plucky heroines and traditional values. But above all, it was Barbara Cartland’s overriding belief in the positive power of love to help, heal and improve the quality of life for everyone that made her truly unique.
“When I am kissed by the man I love and who loves me, I always fly to Heaven and it is so beautiful I want to stay there for ever!”
Barbara Cartland
CHAPTER ONE
1903
Lady Chiara Fairfax had never felt quite so cold in all her life as the chaise came to a halt in front of a tall Georgian house that stood not far from the towering spires of Ely Cathedral.
Shivering, she stepped down from the chaise onto the cobbles of the little street that wound its way up to the great Cathedral.
It was just teatime, but the sun was already low on the horizon and black storm clouds were blowing across the darkening sky.
A heavy drenching rain began to fall, but Chiara felt glad, as if she waited in the street for a few moments, the raindrops on her face would hide the fact that she had been crying.
It was so kind of her best friend, Elizabeth, to invite her to stay and she did not want to arrive looking utterly miserable.
But she simply could not help it.
All through the long drive from her home, Rensham Hall in Norfolk, she could not forget that her darling Papa was dead and that her Mama had sent her away, telling her,
“Chiara, my angel, I cannot bear to see you looking so sad. You must go and spend some time with someone of your own age and try to laugh again and be happy.”
The blue front door of the Georgian house flew open and a tall girl with a glorious mane of red-gold curls came bounding down the stone steps, a beaming smile of welcome on her face.
“Chiara! My dearest, dearest friend in the whole world! What are you doing standing out here in the rain?”
Elizabeth must have been watching out for Chiara from her bedroom window overlooking the street.
She threw her arms around Chiara in a joyful hug.
“Oh, I am so glad to see you. There is so much to tell you. But you, poor thing, must come inside at once.”
Elizabeth then seized Chiara’s hand and pulled her up the steps and into the warm brightly lit hall.
“I did not think that I would be seeing you again so soon,” she said, as she helped Chiara out of her damp cloak and led her into the parlour.
The two girls had attended a renowned school for Young Ladies in Cambridge and they had finished their studies a few weeks ago before Christmas.
“I just wish it was not such a sad reason that brings you here,” Elizabeth said, her bright face suddenly worried. “I know how much you loved your Papa.”
Chiara sat beside Elizabeth on the sofa in front of a crackling fire and wiped her hand over her wet cheeks to push away any lingering tears.
“Yes, I did – so very much,” she managed to say, although her voice felt weak and shaky.
Lord Fairfax had loved Chiara too.
He had fallen deeply in love with Chiara’s Mama, quite late in his life, when all his Society friends believed that he would remain a bachelor for ever.
But the beautiful young Italian dancer, Signorina Minotti, had stolen his heart completely and, to the outrage of his family and friends, he had married her and embarked on twenty years of blissful happiness.
Chiara was their only child and he adored her. She was an enchanting girl, graceful and dark-haired like her Mama and shared her talents and she could dance and sing almost as soon as she could walk.
“Look at you, my darling baby! You are just like a little fairy,” Lord Fairfax would say to her in his deep voice, rumbling with laughter as Chiara tried to pull him to his feet so that he could dance with her.
“Well I never, Baby Chiara,” he would exclaim, as he balanced precariously on one foot and raised the other in the air in imitation of his daughter. “Who would think to see an old gentleman like myself taking part in a ballet?”
But that was a long time ago.
Chiara was seventeen now, quite grown up, and due to be presented at Court later in the year.
And her dear Papa was no more.
Elizabeth reached out and took Chiara’s hand.
“Poor Chiara!” she sighed. “We will do everything we can to make you comfortable here. Sit by the fire and get warm and I will go and see about tea.”
“Elizabeth – you are so kind – ” Chiara murmured, as her friend leapt up from the sofa. “But wait, you said you had something to tell me. Whatever is it?”
Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed softly pink.
“Oh – I’ll tell you later. Tea is more important.”
And she hurried away to speak to the cook.
Chiara lay back on the sofa cushions and closed her eyes, as her frozen hands came painfully back to life in the warmth from the fire.
But nothing could touch the icy pain that filled her heart.
She now thought back to the last time she had been happy. School had just finished and Chiara, together with two large trunks and an assortment of bags and boxes, was bowling through the Norfolk countryside in the beautiful Fairfax family coach.
The wintry sun shone down over the patchwork of fields and hedges and her heart had swelled with joy as she saw the graceful outline of Rensham Hall appear on the top of a low hill.
She had smiled to herself as she peered out of the coach window. It was only in Norfolk that anyone would think of Rensham Hall as being on top of a hill.
It was really more of a slight rise in the landscape, but Norfolk was so low-lying that any small bump that was not completely flat was always described as a hill.
Rensham Hall was built of pale yellow stone, which always seemed full of light, even on a dull day and it stood in the middle of a beautiful Park with wide acres of grass and many tall trees with spreading branches.
“Oh, quick, quick!” Chiara whispered, longing for the horses to break into a gallop, as they clattered through the gates and trotted up the long drive to Rensham Hall.
Her heart was beating as she jumped down from the coach and ran up the front steps and into the empty hall.
“I’m back!” she called out and could not help but spin round in a joyous pirouette, her skirt billowing out around her like the petals of a flower.
It was so good to be home, to see the great vase of yellow jasmine and winter honeysuckle that her Mama had placed on the round table at the foot of the stairs.
To smell the delicious mix of lavender wax, pipe tobacco and sweet gardenia that always lingered in the hall.
And now th
e scent of pipe tobacco was growing stronger.
“Is that my Chiara? My baby girl?” Lord Fairfax’s voice called out from the landing at the top of the stairs.
“Who else! Of course it’s me, Papa!”
Lord Fairfax’s tall body, stooped at the shoulders now, as he was a very old man, was approaching down the wide staircase.
He was wearing a heavy velvet dressing gown and Chiara was surprised to see that he was holding onto the banisters with his right hand. She could never remember seeing him do that before.
In his other hand he held his briarwood pipe and curling from its bowl was the sweet-scented smoke that she loved so much and on his grey-whiskered face was a smile of pure delight.
It was just another perfect homecoming. She stood at the foot of the stairs, smiling up at him, absolutely happy to be back home again.
“Chiara!” her Mama’s sweet voice rang out behind her. “Mia cara! You are home, how wonderful!”
There was a light tap of heels over the marble floor and then Mama’s gardenia scent filled Chiara’s nose.
Next her arms were around her in a passionate hug.
“And now you are home with us for good,” she said, stroking Chiara’s shining dark hair. “Until, of course, we find a handsome beau for you – ”
“Mama! I have only just walked through the door and already you are trying to marry me off!”
Lady Fairfax’s dark eyes glowed with mischief.
“Oh – to be so young again,” she sighed. “You are going to have so much fun, cara.” She turned and looked up at the staircase. “But look, Chiara – here is Papa! Oh, careful, my darling love, be careful!”
Lord Fairfax seemed rather unsteady. His slippered foot caught on the carpet and his tall body wavered.
Lady Fairfax stepped swiftly towards him, but then suddenly his legs gave way beneath him and he fell heavily forward, tumbling awkwardly down the last few stairs and landing at Chiara’s feet.
“Papa!” she cried, bending over him.
His grey eyes stared up at her and a smile twitched on his thin lips.
“Why did you come downstairs? What were you thinking of? The doctor advised you to stay in your room.”
Lady Fairfax pushed Chiara aside and seized her husband’s shoulder.
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