203. Love Wins

by Barbara Cartland

  Then Lalita was afraid that it would not be as easy as that and when she heard Lord Heywood’s footsteps coming slowly back down the passage she realised that she was trembling.

  Because she could not bear to look at his face to see what he was feeling, she started to pick up the sketches that were spread out on the floor and then heard him close the door behind him.

  He came towards her to stand a few feet away and she sensed that he was waiting for her to look up at him.

  “I suppose you realise what you have done,” he said, and she thought that his voice was severe and accusing.

  “I thought – I was helping – you.”

  “And, having done, so you have got yourself into more of a mess than you were in already!”

  “I-I cannot see – why it should – affect me.”

  “Don’t be so stupid!” Lord Heywood said harshly. “What is going to happen when my friends are told that we are married and wish to congratulate me?”

  “Y-you could – say that the whole thing was a – joke and that would mean the laugh was on Lady Irene.”

  Lord Heywood could not help thinking that it was a rather ingenious explanation. At the same time he was certain that there would be far more serious repercussions than that.

  He walked to the window as if to look out into the garden would help him to think.

  “If I have – done anything to – harm you,” Lalita said, “then I – I will – go at once.”

  “I just don’t understand why you did it.”

  “Carter told me – that you had been – glad to – leave her behind in Paris.”

  “Carter has no right to say such things.”

  “But it was – true?”

  “I don’t intend to discuss it.”

  “But she would be – wrong for you – if you were thinking of – marrying her. She is not a – good woman.”

  “How can you know that?” Lord Heywood asked in an exasperated voice,

  “But I do know! She is bad – I promise you she is. And now that she is angry she will – hurt you if she – can,”

  Lord Heywood was aware that this was the truth and it was impossible for him to refute it.

  Yet because he really was bemused by what had occurred, he had no wish to make explanations to Lalita, glad as he was to be rid of Irene.

  It was an easy way out, yet because Lalita was irretrievably involved it infuriated him and he walked out of the writing room slamming the door behind him.

  *

  Lalita sat staring at the drawings and felt the tears come into her eyes.

  She had wanted only to help him.

  She had wanted to protect him from Lady Irene who even before she had seen her she had thought must be bad, but was now absolutely sure she was worse than that. She was in some way positively evil.

  She thought that the vibrations coming from Lady Irene were very much the same as those that had come from her uncle when he was trying to force her into marriage with her cousin Philip.

  And she knew that she must save Lord Heywood from a woman who eventually would disillusion and hurt him.

  As she thought about him, Lalita was sure that, although he was very reserved about himself, he had the high ideals that she had always imagined a good and brave man would have in his heart.

  She had thought this morning when they were cleaning out the Chapel that only a man who believed in God and was essentially noble would have been so willing to, brush away the dust and dirt in that sacred place.

  Using what she thought of as her Celtic instinct she was sure that was how he thought of it and not as just as another room in the Abbey.

  ‘When he marries,’ she told herself, ‘it must be to a woman who will inspire him to do chivalrous deeds and be worthy of the monks who built this Abbey to the glory of God’.

  She felt almost as if they were helping her to protect Lord Heywood and, although he might be angry with her now, perhaps later he would understand why she had acted as she had and realise that he was well rid of Lady Irene.

  ‘I hate her,’ Lalita said to herself, as she thought about how happy they had been before she arrived.

  The beautiful woman had brought a darkness and a sense of insecurity into the Abbey that had never been there before and, as if she had already besmirched the atmosphere of the writing room, Lalita went to the windows to open them wider than they were already.

  As she did so, she saw that like yesterday, although it was very hot, the sky was overcast.

  ‘It looks as if it is going to rain,’ she thought, ‘and I hope her Ladyship has a wet drive back to London!’

  It was a childish wish and Lalita was aware of it.

  She knew what was really worrying her was that Lord Heywood was angry.

  How could she coax him back into happiness again?

  ‘Please, God, go on helping me for a little while longer,’ she prayed fervently.

  But in her apprehension she felt as if there was a stone in her breast growing larger and weighing heavier every moment.

  She looked up at the grey sky.

  ‘Please. Please,” she pleaded.

  But there was no sunshine to give her the answer she so desired.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Lord Heywood, lying on his bed, was not thinking about the heat, although it was excessive.

  Before he climbed into bed he had pulled back the curtains and opened the windows wide. He thought that the heat, which had made it hard to breathe all day, was even worse than it had been before.

  His mind, however, was preoccupied with Lalita and actually he was feeling ashamed.

  He had been almost thrown off his balance by what had happened and he knew now, if he was honest, that he had taken out his irritation on her.

  When he left her in the writing room, he had gone for a long walk in the woods behind the house, making himself unpleasantly hot, but finding it did little to soothe his feelings.

  He felt as if a new problem, more insurmountable than ever, had arisen and, although he had been concerned over Lalita before, he now felt that the position that she placed herself in made it imperative that he should do something about her.

  The question was, what could that be?

  He was quite sure that when Lady Irene arrived back in London the story that he was married to somebody completely unknown would lose nothing in the telling.

  She was not the type of woman to nurse any hurt that she had received in silence.

  Instead she would do her best to evoke sympathy from everybody she knew and try to make them condemn him for being heartless and unfaithful.

  Because many of her admirers would be only too glad to see him out of the running, they would not only agree with her but would do their best to defame him in the London Clubs.

  As a matter of fact, since Lady Irene was well known to be promiscuous, the more sensible men would merely laugh and think that he was wise to escape while he could.

  But the women would chatter and naturally their curiosity would be centred on the woman who had taken Lady Irene’s place and had vanquished her in the process.

  ‘What shall I do about it?’ Lord Heywood asked himself.

  Because he could find no solution to the problem when he returned to the house he was in a bad temper.

  This resulted in his being cold and distant to Lalita when they met for dinner.

  He could see that she was looking at him pleadingly and that she wanted to ask him to forgive her if she had done anything wrong.

  But it was impossible to talk intimately in the dining room with Carter coming in and out with the dishes he had cooked and, when the meal was over, Lord Heywood, instead of going into the writing room as they usually did, went off to the stables.

  There were only the two horses to look at and to his surprise they were not in the paddock, as he had expected, but in their stalls.

  There was an excuse for Waterloo to be resting there, but why Conqueror?

  He was patting Con
queror absent-mindedly while thinking about Lalita when Carter joined him.

  “I was wondering why you had put the horses inside,” Lord Heywood remarked.

  “I thinks we be in for a big thunderstorm, my Lord.”

  “I would not be surprised,” Lord Heywood replied, aware how stifling it was.

  “There’s been rumblings in the distance all the afternoon,” Carter informed him, “and I suspects they’re havin’ a storm not far from ’ere. If it reaches us, Waterloo’ll be ever so upset.”

  He grinned before he added,

  “’E’ll think ’e’s back on the battlefield and he’s bin a bit gun-shy ever since that six-pounder went off just beside you.”

  Lord Heywood remembered it well and it had only been by a superb show of horsemanship that he had not been thrown from Waterloo’s back.

  “You are quite right to bring the horses in,” he said approvingly. “We don’t want any harm to come to our only means of conveyance.”

  He was thinking as he spoke that horses when they were frightened could easily impale themselves on a fence or try to jump a hedge that was too high for them.

  When he walked back to the house, everything seemed quiet and he thought that Carter had perhaps been needlessly apprehensive.

  Now lying in his bed, wearing nothing above the waist, he thought that the thunderstorm would be a blessing and would clear the air, especially if it rained afterwards.

  Even as he thought of it there was a streak of lightning, which lit the whole room, followed by a resounding crash that appeared to be directly over the house.

  It was so unexpected that Lord Heywood felt himself start. Then he lay looking through the open window, waiting for the next one.

  It was not long in coming, first the lightning and then an even louder clap of thunder followed by another crash, which certainly shook the open windows if not the whole house.

  Then he heard a door open and turned to see indistinctly in the darkness that somebody white was standing inside the communicating door that led between his room and the one that had been his mother’s.

  “Lalita!” he exclaimed.

  As he spoke, a flash of lightning revealed her frightened face framed by her fair hair and the blast that followed it was so loud that it was almost deafening.

  The next thing Lord Heywood knew was that Lalita was clinging to him and her face was hidden against his shoulder.

  Wonderingly he put his arms around her and because he had only risen up slightly on the pillows when he saw her he fell back against them so that she was lying beside him on the bed.

  He could feel her trembling and also the warmth of her body through her diaphanous nightgown.

  “It’s all right,” he said soothingly.

  “I-I am afraid it will – hit the house,” he heard her say incoherently.

  As she spoke, lightning once again lit up the room and the thunder vibrated through almost simultaneously.

  Instinctively Lord Heywood tightened his arms and drew her closer still and as he did so he realised that he loved her.

  It was something that he had known subconsciously for some time, but was determined not to admit it. Now, however, he knew that he loved her in a way that was different from anything that he had ever felt before.

  “W-will it – hurt us?” Lalita asked in a voice that trembled and as she spoke her whole body seemed to quiver with fear.

  She raised her face to ask the question and a flash of lightning made Lord Heywood see her wide frightened eyes looking at him, her face very pale and her lips parted.

  He could only see her in the passing of a second and yet it was enough to imprint her loveliness on his mind forever.

  Because he could not help himself he turned towards her and his lips came down on hers.

  For a moment Lalita could not believe that it was happening, but suddenly her fear of the thunderstorm was gone and Lord Heywood’s lips and the strength of his arms swept everything from her mind except him.

  She knew as he kissed her that this was what she had been wanting and longing for all his life although she had not been aware of it.

  The unhappiness she had felt because she thought that he was angry with her was swept away by an inexpressible joy that seemed to rise within her and become a rapture that she had thought existed only in her dreams.

  Lord Heywood’s lips were at first fierce and possessive and then, as if what she was feeling communicated itself to him, his mouth became more gentle.

  The wonder of it was to Lalita so perfect that she thought she must be dreaming.

  Then she was aware that it was no dream, that Lord Heywood was very real and his arms encircled her as if to protect her against everything else in the world. And his lips still held hers captive.

  A few minutes later he raised his head and, when she gave a little inarticulate murmur because she thought that she had lost him, he said in a voice she found hard to recognise,

  “Oh, God, how can you do this to me?”

  Then he was kissing her again.

  He kissed her as if he was demanding that she surrender herself to him and was wooing her so that she wanted to give him anything he desired.

  ‘I am his – I have always – been his,’ she mused.

  Then it was hard to think because he was awakening in her sensations that she had no idea existed or that she was capable of feeling.

  It was as if every nerve in her body vibrated to him and at the same time she was a part of him and they were no longer two people but one.

  He went on kissing her and they were neither of them aware that the thunder was gradually fading away into the distance.

  Now the rain came pouring down tempestuously, bringing with it a freshness that lightened the air and dissipated the oppressive heat.

  It was then that Lalita felt as if Lord Heywood had swept her into the sky and they had left the earth far behind.

  What might have been a long time later his lips released hers and he said hoarsely in a voice that was curiously unsteady,

  “My darling, my precious one, this is wrong and should not have happened.”

  “How – can it be – wrong?” Lalita asked. “It is – marvellous and I – love you!”

  “And God knows I love you!” Lord Heywood replied, “but I have nothing to give you.”

  “You have – everything,” Lalita replied, “everything I have ever – wanted or – dreamed of or – imagined I would ever – find.”

  She gave a little sound that was almost a sob as she added,

  “I did not – know that – love could be so – wonderful.”

  “Nor did I,” Lord Heywood said. “Nor have I ever loved anybody as I love you.”

  “Is that – true?”

  “I want to convince you it is true. But my darling, we have to be sensible.”

  “W-why?” Lalita asked.

  She felt apprehensively that he was going to say something that she did not want to hear and she put out her hand, groping for his face, which she could only see very dimly in the faint light coming from the window.

  “Is it – true that you – love me?” she asked.

  “I love you, but I have a sense of propriety and perhaps decency,” Lord Heywood replied. “What have I to offer you?”

  “You are my whole – life and – everything I will ever – want,” Lalita answered.

  “Oh, my sweet, how can I be sure of that?” he asked.

  He let her head fall back on the pillow and, bending over, he was kissing her, first her lips, then her eyes and then the softness of her neck.

  He knew, as the breath came quickly from between her parted lips and her fingers tightened on his shoulder, that he had aroused in her feelings that were very different from anything that she had ever felt before.

  Then suddenly he drew away from her to lie back against the pillows breathing quickly and staring at the window.

  The rain had stopped and now the sky was clearing and it was possible to
see the stars.

  “This is wrong,” Lord Heywood stated, “but, my precious I cannot help myself.”

  “Do you mean it is – wrong for you to love – me?” Lalita asked. “I do not believe that anything so – perfect, so glorious – and so much a part of – God could be wrong.”

  He did not speak and she went on,

  “I knew today when you were helping me clean the Chapel that you were noble and good and that no man could be so sublime! But I did not even then – realise that what I was – feeling for you was – love.”

  She put out her hand to touch him as she added,

  “Love can – never be wrong – I am sure of that.”

  “It is not our love that is wrong,” Lord Heywood said and she thought that he was speaking with difficulty. “It is that I should not ask you to be my wife knowing the privations that you will suffer because of it.”

  “Do you – want me to be – your wife?” Lalita asked in a very small voice.

  “Of course I want it,” he replied fiercely. “I want you to belong to me, to be mine for the rest of our lives together and after that through all Eternity.”

  He smiled before he went on,

  “This is the first time I have ever asked anybody to marry me or wanted anybody I have known to be my wife, but I know now, my lovely one, instinctively I was waiting for you.”

  “I am so glad, so very – very glad,” Lalita said. “Just suppose when we met you had been – married to – somebody else?”

  She was thinking as she spoke of Lady Irene and Lord Heywood said sharply,

  “Forget her! She shall not spoil our lives and I will not allow her to hurt you.”

  “Nothing can – hurt me unless you – wish to leave – or send me – away.”

  She said the last words in a voice that told Lord Heywood that she was afraid it might happen.

  “That is what I should do,” he said, but not very positively

  "Nothing – nothing in the world could make me – leave you – now,” Lalita asserted. “All I want is to stay here with you in The Abbey – and be happy for ever and ever – just like the Fairy stories.”

  “My precious!”

  Lord Heywood turned to her again and now in the light of the stars he could see her face on the pillow, her eyes seeking his face.