The Devil in Love (Bantam Series No. 24)

by Barbara Cartland

  As he spoke he tied the reins to the dashboard in front of him, turned to Larisa, and put his arms round her.

  “Before you leave me,” he said softly, “I want to thank you for saving my life.”

  The moonlight which had been struggling through the clouds ever since they left Paris suddenly emerged in the clearness of the sky and, seeping through the darkness of the trees, shone on Larisa’s face as she looked up at him.

  She had the feeling that she ought to struggle and prevent him from drawing her close to him.

  But somehow it seemed that this was inevitable; something she had known would happen without actually being conscious of it.

  “You are so lovely, my little Aphrodite!” she heard Comte Raoul say. “When you are there all other women look tawdry and as far as I am concerned unattractive!”

  He felt a little quiver go through Larisa, then very gently be bent his head and found her lips.

  For a moment his mouth hardly touched hers.

  Then as he pressed her a little closer to him she felt a strange feeling like quicksilver streak through her body and an unbelievable ecstasy rise within her.

  It was something she had never imagined.

  It was a wonder which seemed to come from the moonlight itself and yet was a flame deep within her body.

  Everything she knew, understood, or thought disappeared into a feeling of being part of him, and they were alone, away from the world, which no longer existed, in a starlit sky where there was only the beauty and wonder and a perfection that was part of Heaven.

  How long his lips held her captive Larisa had no idea.

  She knew only that every second the wonder within her seemed to deepen and quicken until when finally he raised his head and her lips were free she could only look up at him and feel that it was impossible even to breathe.

  “Le premier fois, my lovely!” he said in a voice that was unsteady, “the first time for you and I swear to you the first time for me. Never before have I known a kiss to be like that, or that it could mean a million wonders I did not even know existed!”

  Because the note in his voice made her tremble with the sheer intensity of her feelings Larisa turned her head and hid it against his shoulder.

  He drew her closer to him and then he said, his voice deep and a little hoarse:

  “I told you we were different. Now do you believe me?”

  She could not answer and after a moment very gently he put his fingers under her chin and turned her face up to his.

  “I love you!” he said, “and I did not know that love could be so completely overwhelming to the point where I can no longer think of anything but you!”

  “How can … you love … me?” Larisa asked a little doubtfully.

  “That is a question I have asked myself,” Comte Raoul answered. “I know all the arguments against such a thing happening: we have only just met; we do not know each other; we have lived in different worlds. But the fact remains that I love you! And I think that you already love me a little.”

  Shyly Larisa would have hidden her face again, but he would not let her.

  “Tell me the truth, my darling,” he said, “because although your lips have told me what you feel I also want to hear you say so.”

  “I … love … you!” Larisa whispered. “But…”

  “There are no buts,” he interrupted. “Just for this moment at any rate think of nothing but our love.”

  He gave a deep sigh.

  “The difficulties and problems ahead of us are unimportant beside our love. Tell me that is all that matters to you, that I love you and you love me?”

  “I love … you!” Larisa whispered again.

  His lips were on hers and this time they were more insistent, more demanding, then even as she thrilled to him once again she felt that wild ecstasy rise within her. Then he set her free.

  “You must go back,” he said. “I have kept you out late enough as it is. I do not wish you to have to make explanations.”

  Larisa made no answer.

  She still felt as though every nerve in her body was throbbing with the rapture he had evoked in her.

  He picked up the reins of the horses that had been standing still and moved on.

  As they went, Larisa put on her riding-hat, which she had held in her hand all the time they had been driving from Paris.

  She had only just set it in place when the horses reached the end of the drive and the Comte drew them once again to a standstill.

  Standing in the shade of the trees Larisa saw the Comte’s groom waiting with the horse on which she had ridden to Paris.

  “Ride home, my darling,” the Comte said in a quiet voice that only she could hear. “Go to bed and sleep. Do not worry about anything.”

  “What time will you be arriving?” Larisa asked.

  “I shall wait a little while,” he answered, “so that there will be no chance of anyone thinking we have been together.”

  There were a dozen questions Larisa wanted to ask him.

  What would he say to his father? Would he confront him with his knowledge that the wine was poisoned? Would he ask Monsieur le Comte for an explanation?

  But her horse was waiting with the groom beside him.

  She stepped out of the phaeton and as she reached the horse’s side the Comte followed her to lift her into the saddle.

  His groom went to the heads of the horses pulling the phaeton and was out of ear-shot.

  “You will be … careful, will you not?” Larisa asked in a low voice.

  “I shall remember that you saved me,” he answered.

  He arranged the skirt of her habit over the pummel and pulled it into place over the side of the horse.

  There was something in the way he did it that gave Larisa a little thrill.

  He was looking after her, taking care of her, and she thought as she looked down at him how irresistibly attractive he was and how at the moment any woman in Paris would be glad to be in her position and receive his attentions.

  The Comte took her hand and, moving the edge of her driving-glove from her wrist, lifted it to his lips to kiss the little blue veins where they met in the palm.

  “Good night, my only love!” he said gently. “I shall see you tomorrow.”

  He released her hand and without speaking Larisa turned her horse into the drive and rode towards the Chateau without looking back.

  As she went she was conscious that her lips were still throbbing from the touch of his and she could still feel his mouth against the veins on her wrist.

  ‘I love him!’ she told herself. “Oh, God, how much I love him!’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Larisa and Jean-Pierre reached the top of the staircase and she saw with a start of excitement that Comte Raoul was below them in the Hall.

  It was a lovely day. Larisa was taking Jean-Pierre and Max for a walk but she had to be honest with herself and say that she had hurried over the School-Room breakfast because she longed so desperately to see Comte Raoul again.

  She had crept back into the house last night after leaving her horse in the stables with Leon, and had thought everyone was asleep until she reached her bed-room to find Nurse dozing in an arm-chair.

  She spoke and the old woman awoke with a start.

  “It is all right!” Larisa said soothingly. “I was in time. He had not opened the wine.”

  She saw quick tears come to Nurse’s eyes and knew how desperately frightened she must have been all the long hours when she had been afraid that no one could save the Comte.

  “Le bon Dieu is merciful!” Nurse exclaimed in a low voice. “I should not have let you go off alone all that way by yourself, but you were the only person who could warn him.”

  “If I had not gone,” Larisa said gently, “he told me that he might easily have drunk a glass of the wine before he went to bed.”

  “Le bon Dieu is merciful!” Nurse exclaimed in a broken voice. “He has heard my prayers and I prayed both for my bab
y and for you.”

  “And we are both ail right!” Larisa said soothingly.

  Yet even as she spoke the question was there in her mind as to how long Comte Raoul would be safe.

  But she was very tired and she had no wish to worry Nurse with such problems at the moment.

  Instead she let the old woman help her out of her riding-habit and when she got into bed she fell asleep almost immediately from sheer exhaustion.

  It was hard when she awoke to remember that Comte Raoul was still in danger.

  All she could think of was the wonder of his kiss and the feeling of ecstasy when he had held her in his arms and told her that he loved her.

  Nevertheless, Monsieur le Comte hovered over them like a bird of evil prey.

  As she and Jean-Pierre descended the stairs Larisa was wondering if Comte Raoul had already seen his father and what they had said to each other at breakfast.

  Then before they were half-way down a voice behind them made her jump.

  “Good morning, Raoul! I heard that you arrived late last night.”

  It was Monsieur le Comte coming downstairs behind them, and Larisa realised that he must have breakfasted in his bed-room and father and son had not yet met.

  “Good morning, Father!” Comte Raoul replied. “I have been waiting to see you.”

  “So I was told,” Monsieur le Comte said.

  They all three stepped onto the marble floor of the Hall.

  “I wish to talk to you, Father,” Comte Raoul said in a grave voice.

  “And I shall be only too pleased to hear what you have to say to me,” Monsieur le Comte explained. “But first I have something for you to do which is of the utmost importance.”

  “What is that?”

  “I have been informed,” Monsieur le Comte explained, “that a fox has taken two more of our lambs—that makes five in a week! This can continue no longer!”

  “I should think not!” Comte Raoul said. “Surely Gascoyne is doing something about it?”

  “Unfortunately,” Monsieur le Comte replied, “Gascoyne has hurt his arm, and as you well know he is the only man I would trust with a gun on this part of the Estate.”

  Comte Raoul did not reply and Monsieur le Comte went on:

  “What I want you to do, Raoul, is to shoot the fox before it can do any more damage. The shepherd thinks it is a vixen and has cubs, in which case they are doubtless in the sand-pit at the top of the woods. The foxes have an earth there every year.”

  “Yes, I know they do,” Comte Raoul replied. “And I cannot understand why Gascoyne has not seen to it earlier.”

  “He has been very short-handed,” Monsieur le Comte explained, “but the foxes are playing havoc with the sheep. They are not only killing the young lambs but also frightening the ewes.”

  “I will see to it,” Comte Raoul promised.

  “I thought you would,” Monsieur le Comte replied. “If not, I must do it myself.”

  “No, Father, it is too far for you to walk.”

  “I told Bernard to have a gun ready for you,” Monsieur le Comte said. “I see it there on the settle.” Comte Raoul walked across the Hall to pick up the gun which was lying on the settle, and slung a bag of cartridges over his shoulder.

  “It should not take me long, Father,” he said. “We will talk when I return.”

  “I will be waiting for you.”

  Comte Raoul turned towards the front door.

  Just for a moment it seemed to Larisa that as he passed her his eyes lingered on her face.

  She saw the expression in his eyes and felt as if he had touched her.

  Then he was gone and she waited for Monsieur le Comte to speak to Jean-Pierre.

  “What are you going to do this morning, Jean-Pierre?” Monsieur le Comte asked in the gentle voice he always used to his grandson.

  Jean-Pierre was playing with Max and when he did not reply Larisa said:

  “We are going for a walk, Monsieur.”

  Monsieur le Comte seemed to hesitate and then he said:

  “I do not wish you to do so this morning. My son will be shooting and Bernard is also setting up a gun-trap. It would be best for you to stay in the house. This afternoon I will take Jean-Pierre for a drive.”

  “He would like that. Monsieur,” Larisa answered.

  “We will make further plans at luncheon,” Monsieur le Comte said.

  He put his hand in a gesture of affection upon Jean-Pierre’s bare head and then walked across the Hall in the direction of the Salon where he always sat. “Take Max for a walk?” Jean-Pierre asked.

  “No, not this morning,” Larisa answered. “Your grandfather wishes us to stay in the house.”

  “Max wants a walk!” Jean-Pierre said obstinately. Larisa looked through the door at the sunshine outside and knew that she was as disappointed as Jean-Pierre was at being confined to the house.

  Then she had an idea.

  “Listen, Jean-Pierre,” she said, “I will tell you what we will do. We will go to the roof. You have never shown me the view from there and you can point out to me all the special places in the garden and the woods where we have walked.”

  Jean-Pierre was only too delighted to show her the way up the stairs to the very top landing.

  Then up a twisting, winding staircase in one of the turrets until they could step out onto a flat part of the roof which reached right to the cupola.

  It had a beautiful wrought-iron railing round it so that it was completely safe.

  Nurse had suggested several times that Larisa should see the view from the top of the Chateau.

  It really was very impressive and she could see an immense distance in almost every direction.

  She looked over the formal gardens to the Temple of Venus, and she could see the statue of Aphrodite under which she and Comte Raoul had sat.

  She could lock in the direction of Paris and recall how last night she had galloped frantically over the parkland and fields until she found the main road which led into the city.

  Then because she could not help herself she looked down at the path where she knew Comte Raoul would walk towards the top of the wood.

  She could see him very clearly.

  Already he had left the gardens, which were enclosed by a wall, and was passing through the grassland where the sheep were grazing.

  They occupied only half of the field which was partitioned off with hurdles, but it was bordered by the pine woods and it was from there, Larisa thought, that the fox must have crept out to snatch the baby lambs.

  The path Comte Raoul was taking was cut through the centre of the wood and she could see him moving higher and higher to where she guessed the fox’s den was likely to be.

  A sudden sound behind her made her turn round.

  Jean-Pierre, already bored with looking at the view, was playing with Max.

  At the moment he had both hands round the puppy’s throat and was squeezing it so tightly that the dog was struggling frantically, obviously in pain.

  “Jean-Pierre! Stop that immediately!” Larisa said sharply. “I have told you before that it hurts Max when you put your hands round his throat.”

  Reluctantly it seemed to her Jean-Pierre released the dog and there was an expression in his eyes that Larisa did not like.

  This was the second time she had caught him trying to throttle the animal, and she knew with a sudden fear that she would have to speak to Monsieur le Comte about him.

  He should see a Doctor—she was sure of that!

  Once again she could not escape from the memory of the village idiot at Redmarley who had strangled a little girl of three.

  Max, apparently unaffected by the pain he had suffered, was wagging his tail and running about, quite happy to play with Jean-Pierre, but Larisa found it impossible for the moment to forget the look in the little boy’s eyes.

  “Surely I am exaggerating something that is just childish mischief?” she asked herself desperately.

  Then she knew that she wou
ld have to discuss Jean-Pierre with someone.

  She could not go on much longer pretending that he was normal.

  Because she felt so horrified by her own thoughts she turned once again to look for Comte Raoul.

  Just to think of him and to be able to see him in the distance would make her feel calmer and less agitated.

  He was out of sight but someone else had emerged from the garden into the field where the sheep were.

  It was a man and Larisa was almost certain that it was Bernard.

  He did not interest her and she was looking once again in the distance for Comte Raoul when she suddenly saw Bernard walk across the field, bend over one of the hurdles, and pick up a baby lamb.

  He carried it back in his arms and when he was about ten yards from the path which led to the woods he put it down.

  Watching, Larisa realised that it had disappeared!

  For a moment she was surprised; then she knew that Bernard must have set it down in a hole which was why she could not now see it.

  Only half curiously, because her thoughts were really on Comte Raoul, she saw Bernard place something dark down in the grass and cover the dark object with it.

  Suddenly Larisa understood!

  It must be the gun-trap of which Monsieur le Comte had spoken!

  She had heard of them although she had never seen one at close quarters.

  She had an idea that they were sometimes used in England, but more often in foreign countries where savage animals were dangerous to children or crept up at night to native villages, ready to kill anything that moved.

  Bernard had obviously finished what he had come to do.

  Now he turned and hurried back into the garden, pausing to look back over his shoulder only as he reached the gate in the wall which led into the field.

  He walked not in the direction of the gun-trap, but up the path along which Comte Raoul had walked to the fox’s den.

  He looked for a moment and then turned away and Larisa saw that he was running back to the Chateau.

  She thought it strange that he should be in such a hurry.

  Perhaps Monsieur le Comte wanted him. Then suddenly she understood!

  The trap Bernard had set was not for the fox, but for Comte Raoul!