The Goddess Of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  He felt an urgency that his voyage should soon be over.

  Then he would be able to look, as his friend Koukali had suggested, near the Temple of Athena.

  The train arrived in Folkestone late in the afternoon and a carriage was waiting for Lord Warburton at the Station to drive him down to the quay.

  He looked with delight at the lines of his yacht where it lay at anchor. He thought it looked more like a greyhound than a serpent and just as swift.

  The captain was waiting at the head of the gangway to say,

  “Welcome aboard, my Lord!”

  “I am glad to be back with you,” Lord Warburton replied truthfully. “I hope we can start immediately the luggage arrives from the Station.”

  “That is what I anticipated you would want, my Lord,” the Captain replied.

  Lord Warburton walked into the Saloon.

  He noted with pleasure how attractive it looked decorated with the pretty chintz he had chosen to match the green walls.

  There was a green carpet on the floor and the chairs and sofas that were battened down were the most comfortable obtainable.

  There was a bookcase filled with books, the majority of them concerned with Greece.

  The pictures on the walls had been specially chosen by Lord Warburton and depicted his favourite views painted by Greek artists.

  There was, naturally, one of the Temple of Apollo and beside it was one of the Temple of Athena, which Lord Warburton studied now with even greater interest than he had ever done before.

  He wondered if he was clairvoyant enough for the spirits of the past to speak to him and tell him where the statue lay hidden beneath the fallen stones.

  The three high pillars still standing of the Temple made it one of the most beautiful buildings in Delphi, an architectural masterpiece of the fourth century B.C.

  Then he laughed at his fantasy and went along the deck to the bridge to watch the Captain take the ship out of Port and into the English Channel.

  Because he was so interested and had no wish to go below until it was dark, Lord Warburton dined late.

  Despite the fact that he was alone, he had as usual, without even questioning it, changed for dinner.

  Sitting at the top of the table, he enjoyed an excellent meal that was prepared and served with the same perfection he expected and always received at The Park.

  He drank a little champagne and after dinner accepted a small glass of brandy from his Chief Steward.

  Then when the servants withdrew, he settled himself comfortably into one of his deep armchairs.

  The throbbing of the engines was music in his ears and he could travel in comfort on an expedition that he found exciting.

  He was certain, after what he had said to the Captain, that The Sea Serpent would break all records in sailing him to where he wanted to go.

  He sat thinking and, when he finally retired to the Master cabin, it was quite late.

  His valet was waiting for him, a man who had served him for over ten years and knew him perhaps better than any other human being did.

  “I bets you’re enjoyin’ yourself, my Lord,” Hewlett said with the respectful familiarity of a servant who has special privileges where his Master is concerned.

  “You know this is what I most enjoy, Hewlett,” Lord Warburton replied as he took off his evening clothes.

  “I knows it, my Lord, but you’ll never make other people understand what they calls ‘a bit of old stone’ means to your Lordship!”

  “What does it mean to you, Hewlett?” Lord Warburton enquired.

  “A chance to get away from all them chatterin’ folk at The Park and women as can’t keep their hands to themselves!”

  It was impossible for Lord Warburton not to laugh.

  He was well aware that Hewlett, like himself, was pursued by women who found him both amusing and attractive.

  But they could not, again like his Master, entice him up the aisle.

  “And what might your Lordship be a-lookin’ for this time?” Hewlett asked.

  Because he was fond of his valet and trusted him more than he trusted anybody else. Lord Warburton told him the truth.

  “I am hoping, Hewlett, that I shall find a statue of Aphrodite who, as you will know, was the Greek Goddess of Love.”

  “Sounds interestin’, my Lord,” Hewlett said laconically, “but I only hopes she don’t go askin’ too much of your Lordship!”

  Lord Warburton, although he was amused, did not reply and there was no need for Hewlett was already leaving his cabin.

  “Goodnight, my Lord!” he murmured as he closed the door.

  Lord Warburton was smiling as he climbed into bed.

  It pleased him to know that Hewlett enjoyed these expeditions as much as he did.

  He was well aware that any other servant might find the variations in climate, the effort of digging and the days and nights of discomfort a burden.

  Hewlett, however, took it all in his stride and invariably had something amusing to say which made his Master laugh.

  The slight rocking of the yacht told him that they were out to sea and the purr of the engines lulled Lord Warburton to sleep.

  *

  Having passed a dreamless night. Lord Warburton awoke to feel full of energy and hurried on deck as soon as he was dressed.

  He had been right in thinking that The Sea Serpent could reachfourteen knots.

  By the time they were steaming past the coast of Northern France and heading South-West across the Bay of Biscay she was doing over thirteen knots and he was extremely elated.

  “If you can keep this up, Captain,” he said, “we shall be able to reach Crisa sooner than I expected.”

  “Is that where you are landing, my Lord?”

  “Yes, but I deliberately have not told anybody so until now.”

  “I’m glad about that, my Lord.”

  The way the Captain spoke made Lord Warburton look at him in surprise.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “There have been the usual ‘nosey Parkers’ asking questions before your Lordship came on board as to where the yacht was heading.”

  “The Press?” Lord Warburton enquired.

  “I imagine so, my Lord. They are always inquisitive about members of the aristocracy, and especially your Lordship.”

  “Why is that?” Lord Warburton asked sharply.

  The Captain thought for a moment.

  Then he said slowly,

  “I suppose, my Lord, you are more of an enigma than most of the other gentlemen.”

  “What do you mean?” Lord Warburton enquired, thinking that it was a strange word to use.

  “Well, my Lord, you’re rich, you’re important, you have some of the best horseflesh in England, but you go off on your own, so to speak, on journeys like the one you’re taking now and nobody knows for certain where they might be able to find you.”

  Lord Warburton knew that this was true.

  He had learned a long time ago that it was a great mistake to say where he was going.

  He had found in the past that there had been friends and acquaintances and journalists from the newspapers waiting to greet him on his arrival.

  It sometimes made it impossible for him to escape the hospitality he had no wish to accept. And it had also often prevented him from setting off immediately on some expedition that he had set his heart on.

  This applied particularly when he visited Greece.

  Now he thought with satisfaction that he had been extremely wise in not letting even the Captain be aware of where he was going until the yacht had left Harbour.

  He spent most of the day on the bridge apart from taking exercise by walking briskly round the deck.

  He enjoyed the warmth of the sunshine and the salt on the wind, which seemed to sharpen as they neared the Bay of Biscay.

  Then the height of the waves began to make it clear that they were in for a rough passage.

  *

  The following morning, when H
ewlett called Lord Warburton, he said,

  “If it gets any rougher, my Lord, I thinks it’d be wise to have that crate put in a safer place.”

  “What crate?” Lord Warburton enquired. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “That large crate marked ‘fragile’ which your Lordship gave instructions was to be put in the cabin next door.”

  Hewlett paused and then added,

  “Whoever brought it aboard was stupid enough to set it down in the middle of the floor. If it slides about, whatever it contains might get broken.”

  “I still don’t know what you are talking about,” Lord Warburton said in a bored voice. “I gave no orders for anything to be brought aboard before I embarked. In fact nobody knew when I did so, except for the Captain and yourself.”

  “Well, they tells me as how a crate comes aboard early on the day we arrives,” Hewlett said, “and on your Lordship’s instructions it were put next the Master cabin.”

  Lord Warburton did not speak, and after a moment Hewlett said,

  “P’raps your Lordship had better look at it when you’ve had your breakfast.”

  “I will look at it when I am dressed,” Lord Warburton said.

  He did not say anything more, but he was wondering what the crate contained.

  How could anyone early in the morning before he arrived at about six o’clock in the evening have had any idea that he would be coming aboard?

  He had sent a messenger from The Park, calculating that, if he went on an earlier train than he took himself, a man should arrive exactly two hours before he did.

  That would give the Captain time to get up steam and the chefs to take on fresh food.

  But not, which was something he disliked, for there to be time for anyone to gossip or speculate as to where he was heading.

  It was a routine he had followed now for the last three years and found that it suited him.

  What was more, there had never been any difficulties with the crew who were always ‘standing by’ at this time of the year, just in case the yacht was needed.

  ‘A crate of what?’ he asked himself as he brushed his hair in front of a mirror.

  He was standing with his legs apart to balance himself against the movement of the ship as Hewlett helped him into his yachting jacket with its shining gold buttons.

  Then instead of proceeding up the companionway to where his breakfast would be waiting for him in the Saloon, he came out of the Master cabin and opened the door of the cabin next to it.

  This was a cabin that he had decorated, when he had built the yacht, in a manner appropriate for any woman he might wish to have as his guest.

  Its furnishing had been completed before he had decided after all that women were a nuisance and his guests would be entirely male.

  The curtains, therefore, that covered the portholes were a pretty shade of pink with a pattern of lilies on them.

  The same material was draped elegantly over the bed from a corola attached to the ceiling. The bedspread was of quilted pink satin and the walls were white, so that the whole cabin looked fresh and a perfect background for any woman who might occupy it.

  It was, however, at the moment empty except for a large ugly-looking packing case which stood in the centre of the floor.

  As Hewlett had advisedly said, if the sea grew rougher it would slide from side to side and damage whatever it contained.

  He had been correct in feeling apprehensive, Lord Warburton thought, as he saw a large notice on top of the packing case on which was printed,

  “FRAGILE THIS SIDE UP

  WITH CARE.”

  He looked at it and tried to remember if by any chance he had forgotten that he had ordered extra china, or perhaps glass, for his yacht.

  He knew that his secretary, who saw to all these matters, would have replaced immediately on their arrival home from a voyage anything that had been smashed or damaged.

  But he could not recall having bought anything himself and certainly nothing that would require such a large packing case.

  Then he noticed that beside the packing case there was a trunk and this too seemed strange.

  It bore no label, nor were there any initials or, as would have been the case with most of his friends, a coronet emblazoned on it.

  As he and Hewlett stood looking at it, a strong wave caused the ship to pitch forward and then back and they saw the packing case move slightly.

  “You are right, Hewlett,” Lord Warburton said. “This should be put in a safer place, although I have not the slightest idea what it contains.”

  “Shall I open it, my Lord?”

  Hewlett looked at the sides as he spoke and then said in surprise,

  “It ain’t locked, my Lord!”

  Lord Warburton thought this again was strange, but he merely said,

  “Then open it!”

  Hewlett pulled at the top, which surprisingly did not appear to be fastened down in any way.

  Then, as he pulled it off with an ease that he himself thought extraordinary, Lord Warburton stepped forward.

  He stiffened and stared with astonishment at what lay inside.

  For one moment he thought that he must be dreaming and that, instead of his going to Greece to seek the Aphrodite Koukali had told him about, Aphrodite had been sent to him.

  It took him several seconds, however, before he was aware that what he was seeing was not a marble statue but the head of a woman who was alive and breathing.

  She was very pale, which at first had deceived him into thinking that she was made of stone, but her eyelashes were dark against her cheeks.

  The hair that was arranged softly against the oval of her forehead was real and not carved.

  Her small straight nose was that of the Goddess Aphrodite who Lord Warburton was seeking and her lips were shaped as he had known they would be and the small pointed chin seemed part of his dreams.

  Then, as he stared, he heard Hewlett say almost as if he spoke from another world,

  “Gor blimey, if it ain’t a stowaway!”

  His words brought Lord Warburton back to reality.

  “A stowaway?” he repeated dazedly.

  “That’s what it be, my Lord, and, unless she’s pretendin’ to be asleep, my guess is she’s been drugged!”

  “I cannot believe it!” Lord Warburton said beneath his breath.

  Then, as he bent over the packing case to make quite sure the woman was actually there, very slowly she opened her eyes.

  For a moment she seemed not to focus and then she blinked and opened them again.

  Then, as Lord Warburton and Hewlett watched, silent in their astonishment, she drew a deep breath.

  In a frightened little voice they could hardly hear she said,

  “W-where – am – I?”

  As she spoke, Lord Warburton was finally convinced that she was human and his fancy that she was Aphrodite was replaced by an irritation at having been deceived.

  At the same time he saw now that she was covered with a white cloth up to her chin and her head was resting on a white pillow.

  It had been easy therefore to imagine, with the waves dashing against the portholes and darkening the cabin, that she was made of marble.

  He did not reply and, as her eyes opened wide, she was aware of him looking down at her.

  It was then she gave an involuntary little cry as if she was afraid and blurted out,

  “Oh – it is – you!”

  The words were indistinct, but just clear enough for him to hear them.

  “If you know who I am,” he remarked, “perhaps you will inform me what you are doing here.”

  Corena looked away from him to the side of the packing case.

  Then, as if it gradually registered in her mind that he was waiting for an answer, she asked,

  “Am I – on your – yacht?”

  “You are!” Lord Warburton confirmed. “And not surprisingly I would like an explanation as to why you are here!”


  Corena made an effort as if to raise herself.

  Then, as she did so, everything seemed to swim around her and she was conscious that her throat was dry and so were her lips.

  “Could I – please – have something – to drink?” she asked hesitatingly.

  As she spoke, she thought that she must have been drugged, but knew that it was something she could not explain to Lord Warburton.

  Gradually her mind seemed to be clearing.

  She remembered Mr. Thespidos telling her to drink up her coffee and then, having drunk it, she could remember nothing more.

  She knew now that he had rendered her unconscious so that she would make no fuss when she was incarcerated in the crate that had been waiting for her downstairs.

  They must have carried her aboard just as he had told her he intended to do.

  Now, when they were at sea, Lord Warburton had discovered her.

  Because it was all so frightening, as it became clearer in her mind, she could feel herself begin to tremble.

  She kept her eyes closed until she heard a voice say,

  “I’ve brought some coffee for the young lady, my Lord. If she’s bin drugged, as she must have bin, it’ll clear her mind quicker.”

  “Drugged?” Lord Warburton said sharply. “What makes you think she has been drugged?”

  Hewlett made no answer, he was bending down inside the crate and lifting Corena’s head a little and holding the cup containing the coffee to her lips.

  She sipped it gratefully.

  She was wondering as she did so what she should say to explain her presence and wondering too how long she had been aboard the yacht.

  Then, as she drank half the cup of coffee, Hewlett put her head back on the pillow and said to Lord Warburton,

  “I thinks, my Lord, it’d be a good idea if you’d give the young lady time to come round, so to speak. If you go up and have your breakfast, I’ll fetch her somethin’ to eat and drink and after that she’ll be able to talk.”

  Corena closed her eyes again.

  She was praying that Lord Warburton would agree to what the man, who she thought must be his valet, had just suggested.

  It would give her time to think.

  “Very well, Hewlett,” Lord Warburton said after a moment’s pause. “I will have my breakfast, as you suggest. Make it clear to the young woman when you have revived her that I wish to speak to her in the Saloon as soon as possible.”