Love Finds the Way

by Barbara Cartland

  Gina described her morning looking round the keep and Lady Evelyn gave a shudder.

  "Dreadful mouldy place," she exclaimed. "In fact, so is the whole castle. I shall be glad to move back to our own home."

  "Oh, Mama," Drusilla said with a little shriek. "We cannot live in that pokey little place. Not now we are grand. A Duke's family should live in a castle."

  "Except that the castle is impossible to live in," said John, resisting the temptation to tear his hair.

  "But we are going to make it right," Gina objected.

  "How?" Drusilla wanted to know.

  Seeing John look nonplussed, Gina whispered,

  "Shouldn't I have said anything?"

  "No, it is time we told Mama what we are going to do," John said.

  Briefly he outlined Gina's plan to his astonished mother.

  "But that's wonderful!" Drusilla exclaimed. "Then everything will be all right and we'll be as grand as we ought to be."

  "That isn't why I am doing it," John answered. "It is to preserve our heritage for the sake of everyone in the area."

  "Oh, who cares about them? It will be glorious for us," said Drusilla.

  "No," Lady Evelyn said decisively. "Your brother is right. We are not doing this for ourselves, but for history. Gina, my dear, it is an excellent idea. I shall help you as much as I can and I expect to be involved in everything."

  "Of course, ma'am," said Gina, jumping to her feet in her excitement.

  Lady Evelyn also rose and took her hands.

  "And you must come and stay here, my dear."

  "Mama!" John exclaimed frantically.

  "But your Ladyship, I cannot –"

  "Of course you can. If you are going to arrange all this you need to be in the centre of it. You cannot keep coming and going every day. You must live here as part of the family. Oh, do say yes, do!"

  "Yes!" exclaimed Gina. "Oh, yes, please."

  Drusilla too bounded to her feet, squealing with excitement and joined the other two, dancing round and round, hand in hand, while John regarded the three of them, aghast at the calamity that had befallen him.

  For the sake of his sanity he had planned to keep her at a safe distance. Now she was to live under his roof.

  Gina spent the rest of the day working with Ambrose on lists, while John took himself off to visit other parts of his estate. He was afraid he might not be able to hide his dismay that she would continue to be there.

  It was arranged that she would return to her home that evening to collect her luggage and come back to the castle next morning. John saw her into the carriage, thanked her for her work and stood watching as she departed, wondering at himself for the way he felt.

  Gina had a strange magic and that was dangerous. He would have avoided her if he could, but now that was impossible.

  *

  An hour later the carriage pulled up outside Gina's home, a large stone mansion set in extensive grounds. As she descended, a powdered footman pulled open the front door.

  "Good evening, miss."

  "Good evening, Cadmon. Are my parents in?"

  "In the library, miss."

  As she headed for the library another powdered footman opened the door for her.

  Her Mama was standing on the hearthrug, twisting and turning before her father, who sat at his desk. He had been studying plans, but had abandoned them to admire his wife.

  "Darling," her mother said, "look at this lovely new dress Papa has bought me."

  "Why Mama, it is beautiful!" Gina exclaimed. "Such a gorgeous rich, red velvet."

  "It seems as though I will have to buy some rubies to go with it," Papa said, grinning.

  "You spoil me, my love," his wife told him tenderly.

  "And what shall I buy you, my dear?" Samuel Wilton asked his daughter.

  "Nothing Papa, you buy me too many things," she replied, kissing him on the forehead.

  "That is one of the pleasures of money," he declared, with a happy sigh. "A man can treat his ladies. What shall I get you, my pet?"

  "Nothing, Papa," she repeated firmly.

  Gina knew that her father was an extremely wealthy man who could have afforded anything she asked for. For that very reason, she was reluctant to ask for a great deal. She was very much her mother's daughter, reared in vicarage standards.

  Starting as a small builder, Samuel Wilton had progressed until he had a very large firm. From there he had gone on to speculate in the railways that were fast covering the country and made a huge fortune.

  Gina had told John that he was a tradesman and insofar as a builder was a tradesman, that was true. But he was a tradesman writ very large indeed.

  His enormous wealth had made him a man of distinction, mixing with other men of power and influence. He could have bought himself a title, but had simply never bothered to do so. At heart he was a simple man who had married a vicar's daughter and ran his life according to her strong principles.

  He was rather in awe of his wife, knowing that his intellect did not match her own. He was in awe of his daughter for the same reason. And his love for these two women filled his world.

  "Did you have a good day at the castle?" her mother asked.

  "Yes, thank you Mama. And Lady Evelyn has invited me to stay for a while, so tomorrow I will be going back."

  "Aiming to become a Duchess now?" asked her father, his eyes twinkling.

  "Certainly not!" Gina snapped at once. "I am interested in the castle, as I told you last night."

  "I know, I know, and the castle needs money. Or rather the Duke needs money."

  Papa grasped her hands, his eyes alight.

  "I know what, my pet. Shall I buy you the Duke?"

  "Samuel!"

  "Papa! How can you?" Gina was almost in tears. "What a terrible thing to say."

  The good-hearted man looked blankly at the outrage of his wife and daughter.

  "What's this? What did I say that was so dreadful? Eliza, my love, what did I say?"

  "It was disgraceful," his wife told him severely.

  "Why? Why?"

  "Naturally our girl wishes to marry only for love."

  "Well, she can love him, can't she? Best thing if she does. She will get a better bargain that way and if there's one thing I do know about, it's how to strike a good bargain."

  Both his womenfolk covered their eyes at this vulgarity. Knowing that he was getting in deeper, but not too certain how, he blundered on,

  "Besides, he is a handsome young fellow."

  "You know him?" Gina asked, uncovering her eyes.

  "Never met him."

  "Then how do you know he is handsome?"

  "Because you as good as said so last night."

  "I never mentioned his looks."

  "Not in words, but your eyes shone whenever you spoke of him."

  "I deny it," Gina said fiercely. "He is nothing to me. Nothing! Do you understand?"

  "Very well, my pet. There is no need to deafen me."

  "Please understand that my concern is only for history."

  "But you can concern yourself with history here," Samuel pointed out. "When that curate came round trying to whip up interest in saving the village wishing well, you took no interest beyond a donation. Of course, he wasn't handsome –"

  "Papa, if you say another word I shall leave the room," Gina asserted fiercely.

  "All right, all right. Dear me, it seems that everything I say is wrong."

  "Besides, you do our girl an injustice," his wife assured him. "She is intellectual and high-minded. She would never be overly swayed by a young man's beauty or appearance."

  "Then she is different to every other girl in the world," Samuel defended himself robustly. "Very well, I will say no more. Except this. Gina my dear, if you should change your mind, I could manage a dowry of about a quarter of a million and surely that would get the Duke out of his difficulties?"

  Gina stared at her father, aghast.

  "I would rather die!" she cried passiona
tely.

  Then she ran from the room, leaving Samuel staring after her in total bewilderment.

  That night, when her maid had helped her out of her clothes and into her silk, embroidered nightgown and was brushing her hair, Gina suddenly said,

  "It's all right, Bertha. You can go to bed now."

  The maid bobbed and vanished. Gina looked at herself in the mirror.

  'I would rather die,' she murmured. 'Did I do wrong in not telling him I am an heiress? Surely not. If he only wanted me for my money, I could not endure it.'

  A tear trickled down her cheek.

  'And I don't know why I am crying,' she sniffed. 'There is nothing to cry about. Nothing at all.'

  *

  John was in a testy mood the following morning. Breakfast had been made hideous by Drusilla's conviction that all problems were now solved and they could all begin to live like Dukes.

  In vain did John try to explain that the idea was only in the planning stage and that they were still a long way from success. Drusilla's feather-brain had room for only one idea and it was invariably the one that suited her.

  "You will give me a really grand ball, won't you?" she demanded of her brother.

  "Whatever for?"

  "For my coming out. How can I be a debutante without a coming out ball?"

  "Why should you want to be a debutante if you are already planning your wedding?" he asked caustically. "A girl who has snared a man called Scuggins has surely nothing left to wish for."

  Drusilla put out her tongue at him.

  After breakfast John tried to do some work with his secretary, but what he discovered of the accounts only depressed him even more.

  With one ear he was listening for the sound of Gina's arrival. When he heard the crunch of wheels he ran out to greet her.

  Gina was leaning out waving to him and beaming.

  He gave her a bright smile, feeling thoroughly confused. It was delightful to see her. Too delightful, he told himself. She was a terrible girl with advanced ideas of which he thoroughly disapproved. But she was also mysteriously bewitching and her visit was going to be a trial of both his nerves and his feelings.

  He opened the carriage door and she immediately jumped down, seizing his hands in hers.

  "I have some wonderful news to tell you," she said. "Wait until you hear it."

  John waited hopefully. Gina's eyes were shining.

  "I know an heiress," she declared.

  "What?"

  He could not believe his ears.

  "She is enormously rich, and just what you need."

  "Gina, we discussed this before, and I told you –"

  "Oh, but I am not asking you to do anything dishonourable," she said fervently.

  "A marriage for money sounds fairly dishonourable to me."

  "Not if it is made for love."

  "How can I be in love with her if I don't know her?"

  "I will take care of that. The thing is, she is very pretty and charming, so you can fall in love with her and marry her with a clear conscience. That way you will get a better bargain."

  "Get a – ?"

  "I learned that from my father, because if there is one thing Papa does know about, it is how to strike a good bargain."

  "I am going mad," said John faintly. "Any moment now I will start seeing visions or addressing people who don't exist. I find it hard to believe that you actually – stars above!"

  "You don't think it's a good idea?" she asked anxiously.

  "No, I do not think it's a good idea."

  He could not have said why her eagerness to marry him off should trouble him so much. In theory he should be pleased, since it meant that she herself was certainly not setting her cap at him. He could simply dismiss the moment they had shared in the keep.

  But somehow he did not want to do that.

  "Who is this girl?" he asked.

  "Oh – just an heiress."

  "Just an heiress. There are so many, aren't there?"

  "There aren't many heiresses as rich as this one and you would do well to consider her."

  "You had better tell me her name, so that I can give her a wide berth."

  "In that case her name doesn't matter," Gina replied stubbornly. "I'll warn her off you. I will tell her you are pigheaded and rude and –"

  "Just tell her that I won't marry her," John interrupted wildly. "That will be quite enough, you dreadful girl."

  Lady Evelyn came out onto the step in time to hear this last pronouncement.

  "John dear," she murmured, "please remember your manners. Gina, how nice to see you. Come inside and see your room."

  She swept their guest away, casting a reproachful look back over her shoulder at her son.

  As the two women moved further into the house, Gina's plaintive voice drifted back to him,

  "I fear I may have offended your son, ma'am. Such terrible things he says to me."

  And his mother,

  "Ignore him my dear. It is perfectly fatal to take the slightest notice of anything a man says or does."

  John breathed hard, wondering how long it would be before he murdered Miss Wilton.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Pharaoh appeared on the step with a young man of mountainous proportions, whom he directed to start carrying in Gina's baggage. He explained himself slowly and with lots of gestures and the young giant nodded ponderously to show that he understood.

  "Who is he?" John demanded of Pharaoh.

  "His name is Harry, Your Grace. A sweet natured lad, but –" he gave a shrug. "Shall we say, not equipped to make his own way in the world?"

  John needed no further telling that Harry was a lost sheep. He was beginning to understand that almost nobody else would work at the castle. Tennison, the butler, was still there, but apart from him John had seen nobody that he recognised.

  Pharaoh added,

  "Harry takes care of the kitchen garden, Your Grace. The vegetables he grows are a wonder to behold. Cabbages, potatoes, leeks, onions, herbs –"

  "The vegetables we had last night were excellent."

  "I will tell him you said so. He will be very pleased."

  "Pharaoh, are there any more people that I don't know about?"

  Pharaoh nodded.

  "A few in the kitchen, Your Grace, and the stables."

  "A few? How many?"

  Pharaoh made a vague gesture.

  "One or two – or maybe three."

  "How many is that?" John persisted.

  "Well –" Pharaoh made a vague gesture. "It's hard to be sure – exactly – but –"

  "A few," said John, who was beginning to realise that he was not going to win this one.

  "That's right," Pharaoh exclaimed. "A few. Oh, yes, and there's a couple who grow the loveliest flowers. Did you notice the flowers on the table last night?"

  "Yes, my mother mentioned them most particularly. I was afraid that they had been sent in at great expense."

  "Oh, my goodness, no. Culled from Your Grace's own garden."

  "But they are magnificent. I didn't think we were capable of anything so beautiful."

  "The horse manure is very useful."

  "Horse manure? Do we still have enough horses to make a difference?"

  "Not really, but Harry obtains the extra by doing a day's work on the local farms. He is much in demand on account of his strength."

  "So he works for other people and gets paid in manure, which he brings back here and puts on my gardens?"

  "On the castle gardens, Your Grace," Pharaoh corrected him gently.

  "But the castle does not pay him anything for his work."

  "He gets food and shelter, neither of which he could organise for himself. The castle is his refuge, a place where he finds the kindness the outside world would never give him."

  "And my uncle was kind to him?"

  "Yes, Your Grace. But you are the Duke now."

  The implication was clear. Personalities did not matter here. The Duke is dead. Long live the Duke
. And long live his responsibilities to those weaker than himself. Long live the castle that provided shelter to the poor and helpless.

  It occurred to John that Gina would have understood all this. In fact, everything Pharaoh had said was a living proof of her view that the castle belonged to the whole district, which needed and depended on it.

  Pharaoh picked up a bag and was about to turn away, when something stopped him.

  "Visitors, Your Grace," he said, pointing to the gate tower, through which a carriage was rumbling.

  John followed his finger and saw a very welcome figure stand up in the carriage, hailing him.

  "Ahoy there! Anybody at home?"

  "Well, I'll be – !" John exclaimed, a pleased grin breaking over his features. "By all that's wonderful. Benedict!"

  His friend jumped down and rushed over to him with arms outstretched. Next moment the two young men were clasping each other exuberantly.

  "I didn't hope to see you for days!" John exclaimed.

  "I didn't think to get away for days, but when I arrived I found the house empty, the whole family having departed for a holiday by the seaside. Since I was coming from the seaside I found this slightly ironic. We may even have passed on the road. I left instantly and here I am."

  "You were never more welcome, old fellow. I need your moral support badly."

  "You sound like a drowning man."

  "Going down for the third time, I can assure you. Come inside."

  He went in immediate search of Sonia and Imelda, who did not let him down. Having contrived chambers fit for Gina and Drusilla, they scurried around and prepared something acceptable for Benedict. It was a little rough and ready, but to a man who had recently spent weeks on a ship it looked comfortable.

  "I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you," John enthused fervently, when they were alone. "I am living in a madhouse, under the thumb of the most extraordinary female you ever met."

  "Tell me everything," Benedict urged him.

  *

  In her own chamber Gina was finishing her unpacking, wondering if she had taken leave of her senses.

  It had been an inspiration of the moment to tell John that she knew a great heiress, but on reflection, it was an inspiration that she should have suppressed.

  However things had not gone too badly. His reaction had been in every way satisfactory and she had avoided giving this wealthy damsel's name, which would have been difficult, as she did not exist.