Money or Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “But I do hope not quite so fat!” Alena retorted, but she was confident that the shop, which was filled with beautiful gowns, could provide what Robin required.

  She looked closely in the mirror before she walked downstairs for luncheon.

  She felt that her new day gown certainly changed her appearance. It was the blue of her eyes and the skirt was very full so that it revealed her tiny waist.

  She so wished that she had her mother’s pearls and perhaps one of her diamond bracelets to wear, but all the jewellery had been sold – even some of the pieces that had been left to her in her mother’s will.

  Robin was waiting patiently for the guests in the drawing room.

  When Alena joined him, he exclaimed,

  “You look smashing! This is the first party we are giving and, although it’s a small one, we are going to give a hundred more before the end of the summer.”

  Alena could only hope that the money would last long enough, but she thought it would be tactless to say so.

  Vincent Thurston arrived first.

  Then Robin’s friend from White’s Club, who he had known since his days in the Army. He was a good-looking young man and obviously impressed by Alena.

  They then turned when Burley announced,

  “Misses Mary-Lee Vanderhart and Blaise Milton.”

  The two girls came into the room.

  At the first sight of Mary-Lee, Alena knew that she was spectacular and she was also determined that everyone should acknowledge her as someone unique.

  She was certainly extremely pretty and it was only her American voice, which was a little loud and sharp, that struck, Alena thought, a discordant note.

  The gentlemen gathered around and started paying her compliments.

  It was some minutes before Alena had time to take note of her companion.

  Blaise Milton was certainly a complete contrast in every way to her friend.

  She was on the small side with soft brown hair and brown eyes and she looked, Alena thought, almost childlike.

  Much to her surprise, she did not have an American accent at all and her voice was very soft.

  Robin had arranged the seating plan for luncheon in advance with an American girl sitting on each side of him.

  Alena had Vincent on her right and Robin’s friend on her left.

  There was no need for anyone to attempt to make the party go off with a bang.

  Mary-Lee did it for them.

  She laughed, joked and talked incessantly.

  Alena felt that one would have to shout to be heard above the noise she made.

  The gentlemen, however, found her delightful, but by the end of luncheon, Alena thought that she herself had hardly been able to say a word.

  “Now we have to see the pictures,” said Mary-Lee. “It’s been my excuse for coming here and I sure ain’t going away until I’ve had a chance of seeing them all.”

  “You will find it difficult to do anything but praise them,” Vincent piped up. “This is one of the most famous collections in England and every one is a masterpiece in itself.”

  “We have nothing as good as this at the moment in New York,” Mary-Lee persisted, “so maybe it’s something I should introduce.”

  “That is certainly an idea,” Robin came in. “But to save you from being disappointed later I must say at once that my pictures are not for sale.”

  Mary-Lee looked at him.

  “Then perhaps you will give me one as a present!”

  Everyone laughed.

  “That I cannot do, but I am sure that Vincent Thurston here, who is an artist, will paint you a picture that is so good and so beautiful that all New York will go mad about it.”

  “I will think about it,” muttered Mary-Lee. “But I want to see your pictures first.”

  They set off to the Picture Gallery with Robin and the two American girls leading the way.

  The rest followed behind making jokes about whom Vincent should paint and what it would cost Mary-Lee to open a Gallery in New York to rival Robin’s.

  Alena brought up the rear of the procession with Vincent walking beside her.

  “She is very pretty,” she whispered. “I am sure you would be wise to paint her before she changes her mind.”

  “I am going to paint you,” he stated firmly.

  “You can paint me anytime, so do Mary-Lee first and perhaps she will pay you a very large fee.”

  It suddenly struck her that Vincent would want to be paid for any picture he painted of her and that would be unnecessary expenditure.

  It was definitely something they should not do with their precious money.

  As if he knew what she was thinking, Vincent said,

  “I want to paint you only for my own pleasure and, if you don’t accept the result as a gift, I will keep it myself and hang it in my flat.”

  “I am trying to help you, Vincent, and if you paint Miss Vanderhart, it should give you great prestige as an artist.”

  “I know exactly what you are saying to me, but I have already told you I want to paint you and thus no one else is of any significance.”

  “That is very flattering, but I think Robin would say money is money and you should take it when you have the opportunity.”

  Vincent did not answer her.

  He was looking at a Boucher near the door. It was Cupid and the Graces, which was one of the pictures Alena especially loved.

  “I shall never rest,” he murmured quietly so only she could hear, “until I can paint you as well as that picture and looking three times as beautiful.”

  Because of the way he was speaking, Alena felt a little quiver within herself.

  It was with an effort she managed to say jokingly,

  “Perhaps by then my hair will be grey and I will be old and ugly.”

  “You will never grow old, Alena, but I really want to paint you as you are looking now and that is just what I intend to do.”

  Their eyes met.

  For a moment it was difficult to look away.

  Robin and Mary-Lee had reached the middle of the Picture Gallery and with the other pair, they were laughing and joking, even making fun of some of the pictures and teasing Mary-Lee.

  She was answering back when Robin realised that her friend, Blaise Milton, was standing beside him and she said to him softly,

  “I want to tell you, Sir Robin, that your pictures are the most beautiful collection I have ever seen. They are something I will never, never forget.”

  Robin smiled at her.

  “I am glad you feel like that about them. They all mean a great deal to me and I am only worried that because I have been abroad they have been neglected.”

  He pointed at one and continued,

  “As you can see, most of them need cleaning and some of them need reframing. I can only remind you that Rome was not built in a day.”

  Blaise gave a fluttering laugh.

  “That is true – and so many old Masters must have taken so much time and good judgement to collect.”

  “Yes indeed. I would like to show you the ones I have in the country, which in a number of ways are even finer than these.”

  “I don’t believe that they could be, Sir Robin, but I would love to see them.”

  “Perhaps you and Mary-Lee would drive down with me one day. It is not too far, but, if you stay the night, I am afraid you may find it rather uncomfortable.”

  He gave a sigh.

  “The house has been closed up since my father died and I have even more repairs to do there than I have here.”

  “I wouldn’t mind how uncomfortable I was if I could see your pictures,” replied Blaise.

  “Then it is an expedition we will arrange.”

  He felt as he spoke that perhaps he was being rather silly – anyone who saw the condition of the country house would be shocked.

  At the same time it was important he should ‘keep in’ with these Americans and make it impossible for them to forget him.

  As
if it had just struck him, he enquired of Blaise,

  “You don’t speak like an American, although you say you are one. How is it possible you have no accent?”

  “It is possible,” Blaise smiled, “as my mother was English.”

  “That explains it – I just thought it strange.”

  “Many people have said the same. My mother was most insistent that I should speak English as if I was an Englishwoman, even though she just loved living with my father in America and we were all blissfully happy.”

  “What did your father do?”

  “He was very interested in oil, but unfortunately the oil fields he bought were all exhausted almost as soon as they were opened or else were complete duds.”

  Blaise gave a laugh before she added,

  “I am a poor American – and that is something that you will not meet very often in New York. Much less in England where the rich ones come to visit, like Mary-Lee, and attract all the attention.”

  The way she spoke, smiling with a little twinkle in her eyes, made Robin chuckle.

  “Many things in life make each of us different from other people. As there are so many rich Americans, I hope you, being different, receive the attention you deserve.”

  “I get quite a lot because I am Mary-Lee’s friend,” Blaise admitted. “And she was kind enough to bring me with her to England which is a wonderful experience for me. It would delight my mother if she was still alive.”

  It passed through Robin’s mind that Mary-Lee was very astute in finding a companion who would not compete with her in any way – someone who would not take any of the attention she so enjoyed away from her.

  He could see Mary-Lee holding forth to his friend from White’s and he was paying her many compliments and laughing as he did so.

  It was quite obvious that he found her entrancing and she knew it.

  Robin suddenly felt sympathetic for the quiet little American girl standing beside him.

  “I promise you one thing, Blaise, I will take you to the country and show you my pictures there even if Mary Lee has no wish to leave London.”

  Her eyes lit up.

  “That is so kind of you, Sir Robin. I don’t want to be a bother, but I have always loved art and I think your pictures are tremendous. In fact I feel overwhelmed.”

  “Many people have felt like that and I remember feeling the same when I was a small boy.”

  “You are very fortunate to possess them. Don’t let Americans or anyone else take them away from you.”

  “They are not likely to be able to do so, as they are all entailed onto my son when I have one and then onto his son, so that they stay in the family for ever.”

  “I have heard that happens a lot in England, and I think it is very sensible. It is something I would like to do myself if I ever own anything that might be a delight to the generations that follow me.”

  “You are very young, Blaise, and there is plenty of time.”

  He thought as he spoke that it was most unusual for any pretty woman to worry her head about the generations that would come after her.

  As if she guessed at his thoughts, Blaise added,

  “In America it is just grab, grab and no one worries about what will happen in the future. In England I can see that it’s very different, because you have such a long history, you think ahead for your children and your grandchildren – ”

  Her voice was very soft as she finished,

  “I think that is very moving and something one day America will want to follow.”

  “I hope they will, Blaise, and as you know they are buying a lot of pictures from Europe. I am told that most of the rich houses in Fifth Avenue have exquisite pieces of Louis XIV furniture and other antiques that have crossed the Atlantic.”

  Blaise gave a little giggle and then she said almost in a whisper,

  “Mama used to laugh because, having bought their antiques without knowing very much about them, the rich Americans just jumble them up and some of the rooms in Fifth Avenue look like an old junk shop!”

  Robin roared with laughter and then thought maybe he was being rather rude.

  “Your countrymen will learn eventually, Blaise, as we have, but it will take time.”

  “Of course, but I often wonder if you realise how lucky you all are in England. It’s not surprising that other countries admire and envy you.”

  Without thinking Robin replied,

  “And we in England envy your money!”

  “I know, and at the same time Mama always thought it was important that, when we had money, we knew how to handle it. Not only for ourselves but for all those who depend on us.”

  “Your Mama was obviously very wise. What was her name before she married?”

  He thought that it could be a name he might know, but, before Blaise could answer, Mary-Lee shouted to her,

  “Come on, Blaise. We have to go now! As you know, we are having tea with Lady Carson and she will be in a real fret if we are not on time.”

  Blaise hurried to her side and Mary-Lee started to walk briskly back down the Picture Gallery.

  When she reached Alena, she kissed her goodbye,

  “It was real kind of you to have us and I am looking forward to your ball. I bet it will be a big success. No one in New York has thought of giving a Moonlight Ball and I am sure going to throw one when I get back home.”

  She did not wait for Alena to answer.

  Still talking expansively, she carried on towards the stairs with Robin at her side.

  When they reached the hall, Burley already had the door open and Mary-Lee’s carriage was waiting outside.

  The two American girls jumped in and the footman closed the door.

  Robin waved to them as they drove off.

  Alena had only just started down the stairs when he came back into the house.

  She knew by the expression on Robin’s face that he thought the luncheon party had been a success.

  Then at her side Vincent suggested quietly,

  “Now all that palaver and noise has ended, we can go back for another look at the pictures.”

  Alena hesitated and then, as she saw Robin go into the study with his White’s friend, she smiled.

  “Why not, Vincent? I always learn something new every time I look at them.”

  “That is what I feel about them too and you and I know that I am the luckiest man in the world, Alena, because I have found you.”

  Alena drew in her breath.

  Then she told herself it was just his way of talking.

  She must not take him seriously.

  They walked back, side by side, along the passage that led to the Picture Gallery.

  Alena found herself wondering if the real reason he was so attentive to her was only because of the pictures.

  Did he in fact think she was very rich just as Robin wanted people to believe they were?

  ‘I must be careful – very careful,’ she told herself, ‘not to become too involved with him.’

  At the same time she wanted to be with him while he looked again at the pictures.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Alena was quietly arranging the new cushions she had bought for the drawing room.

  They were a pretty blue satin and Vincent had taken her round to one of his special shops to buy them. She had found some exquisite Chinese embroidery there as well.

  She draped it over the back of the sofas and with the cushions the room already looked much brighter.

  She much enjoyed her morning shopping with him and when they returned to Park Lane, he asked,

  “May I come into the house? I want to look at the Gainsboroughs to decide which pictures I will choose as a suitable background to place you in.”

  “I have a better idea, Vincent.”

  He looked at her in surprise.

  “I think what you really enjoy best is landscapes. Therefore I suggest you paint me first, if that is what you wish to do, then add your landscape round me later.”

&nb
sp; Vincent was delighted.

  “That is very clever of you and something I shall really relish.”

  “What I am now suggesting,” Alena confessed, “is that I sit in the Picture Gallery for you. Then, as soon as you are finished, I can carry on with all my duties in the house.”

  “I thought there would be a catch in it. But I am so grateful to have you as my model I am prepared to concede everything else.”

  They laughed and then they went up to the Picture Gallery to find the place where the lighting was right and where Alena could sit comfortably.

  “Later you can pretend it is a fallen tree, a stile or a hump in the ground, but if I can be comfortable I can count up everything I have to do as you are painting.”

  Vincent went off to collect his paints, a canvas and everything else he needed.

  Alena went downstairs to see if Robin had returned.

  He had left the house early after breakfast and she had forgotten what he said he was going to do.

  Burley then announced that luncheon was served.

  Alena was just about to say that there was no point in waiting for Robin in case he had another engagement, when suddenly there was a sound of wheels outside and she realised he was back.

  “I am here,” Robin called out as he saw his sister. “I am sorry I am late, but I have something very important to tell you.”

  “Luncheon is ready – ”

  Rather reluctantly Robin turned towards the dining room.

  “All right, my news will have to wait.”

  They enjoyed an excellent luncheon and ate it very quickly.

  Alena was in a hurry to hear what Robin wanted to tell her and she also wished to be ready for Vincent when he returned.

  She had in fact asked him to luncheon, but he had said he would have a bite in his flat while he was collecting everything he needed to bring back with him.

  “Do you have someone to look after you, Vincent?”

  “There is a nice old woman who is the wife of the porter and she cooks anything I require. I am fortunate in having a valet who comes in every morning to press my clothes, polish my shoes and tidy up.”

  “I have always thought how smart you look,” Alena commented. “Now I know the reason.”