Love Finds the Way

by Barbara Cartland

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  For a moment Gina could only gaze at John in outrage, as the monstrous implications of his words sank in.

  "Are you suggesting that I – ?"

  "Please don't waste time denying it. So her carriage broke down outside my door? My dear Miss Wilton that one had whiskers on when my uncle was a young man."

  "You are extremely rude, sir."

  "No, I am not. I am complimenting your organising skills. How you managed it in the time I cannot imagine. And I am exceedingly grateful to you."

  "You are?" she asked in a hollow voice.

  "You promised me that she would be 'pretty and charming', so that I could fall in love with her with a clear conscience. And you kept your word. I congratulate you."

  "You – have fallen in love – with her?" Gina faltered.

  "Not yet exactly, but I am in a fair way to it. After you ordered me to, I would not dare do less. Such eyes, such a mouth. And a fortune too. It seems too good to be true. You can positively assure me that she is enormously rich, can't you?"

  "Yes," she snapped. "Her dowry will be a hundred thousand at least. And she is an only child, so there will be more to come."

  He heaved a sigh of relief.

  "Thank goodness. Think of the disaster if I fell in love and she turned out to be poor after all."

  "Now you are making fun of me."

  "Me? I wouldn't dare."

  "After all those fine words about how you weren't interested in an heiress –"

  "I didn't precisely say that. I said I wouldn't marry a girl I didn't love merely for her money, and you promised me a girl whose beauty would solve those problems."

  Goaded beyond endurance, Gina stamped her foot.

  "I have no fear of your falling in love, sir, since I do not believe you are capable of it."

  "Now, what have I done to deserve that remark?"

  "You forget that I know what you consider admirable in a woman. A pretty doll without an idea in her head, permanently prostrating herself before your masculine superiority."

  "That's a slander."

  "Oh, no it isn't! Your perfect woman is one of those odalisques in that picture, one who spends all day primping herself to look nice for her Lord and Master and never utters a word."

  This was so perilously near to the truth that he checked himself on the verge of intemperate speech.

  "I will not deny," he said after a moment, "that I think a woman's intellect is not the equal of a man's –"

  "Hah!"

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "You said exactly what I would have expected you to say."

  He met her eyes, glaring.

  "I said what any reasonable man would say," he declared emphatically.

  She glared back.

  "You said what any ignorant man would say."

  "Ah, now we are getting the truth. You think that all men are there to be trampled under your feet."

  "I have never made any secret of it. What is more I would enjoy doing it," she threw at him.

  "Including me."

  "Especially you. Any man who has the unspeakable arrogance to talk that nonsense about male and female intellect needs to be reminded to 'cave quid dicis, quando, et cui'."

  She finished with a defiant toss of her head that clearly implied 'so there!'

  John breathed hard.

  "That remark was entirely unnecessary," he snapped.

  "How would you know? You didn't understand a word."

  "Don't be ridiculous. I studied Latin at Eton."

  "So what does it mean?"

  This, John felt, was hitting below the belt. Nobody expected a man to know Latin just because he had studied it.

  "It means," explained Gina patiently, "beware what you say, when, and to whom."

  "I am perfectly aware of that."

  "Hah!"

  "Don't start saying that again," he begged.

  "All right, I won't. I will merely remark 'vir sapit qui pauca loquitur' which, as you are doubtless aware, means that a wise man knows when to hold his tongue."

  "And a wise woman, too. After all, you are the one who believes in the equality of the sexes."

  "Then we understand each other," she said.

  "I should think we do."

  "You are beyond hope," she parried.

  "Well, don't tell your friend, otherwise she might not marry me. And after all your hard work, that would be a shame."

  "I think," Gina countered stormily, "that you are totally insufferable and I do not know why I am wasting my time."

  "Perhaps you are trying to reclaim me?"

  "That really would be a waste of time."

  "True. I am beyond hope, remember."

  John's lips were smiling but his eyes glittered. For some reason he was furiously angry, and it had driven him on to speak to her with cold, bitter irony.

  How dare this domineering, interfering female back him into a corner, and practically march him up the aisle with another woman? Who did she think she was?

  He thought of the moment they had shared in the keep, when their lips had nearly met. And all the time she had been planning to palm him off on someone else!

  What did she have in her veins? Iced water?

  He shuddered at the thought that he might have exposed his longing at that moment for her to laugh at him.

  Then he thought of Athene's smile and his anger faded. At least there was one female in the world who acted like a woman. Maybe Gina had done better for him than she knew.

  "Don't let us quarrel," he said, speaking more gently. "Give me your hand, and please don't be angry with me."

  "How could I ever be angry with you?" she sighed, taking his hand. His tone had melted her.

  He smiled.

  "Very easily, if I don't obey your every command. Do not worry. I will do exactly as you have planned for me. I will flirt with your friend and do my best to fall in love with her – for the good of the castle."

  Her temper flared again.

  "John," she said through gritted teeth, "I did not arrange for her to come here."

  "To be sure you didn't. This morning you spoke of an heiress that you were planning for me, and tonight an heiress turns up on my doorstep with the most unlikely story I have ever heard. If it wasn't you, it was the fairies. Only I don't believe in fairies."

  "John –"

  "You are quite right. Neither of us should admit to knowing too much. You did not arrange this. Let's leave it there."

  He walked to the door and stood holding it open, leaving her no choice but to depart with dignity.

  *

  It took the combined efforts of her dresser and her maid to prepare Athene for bed, with her companion watching the whole business with glaring concentration.

  Finally they all took themselves off and the two girls were alone.

  "Athene, whatever are you doing here?" Gina wanted to know. "Does your carriage really need repair?"

  "It does now," Athene confirmed with a giggle. "It took the coachman several attempts to damage it sufficiently."

  "So it wasn't an accident?"

  "Of course not. It was all Mama's idea. Ever since Papa made so much money, she has been set on finding me a titled husband. And when she heard that the young Duke had come home, she thought we should do something about it."

  "Already? He has only been back two days."

  "But news of such an event spreads like wildfire. Soon every heiress for miles is going to be having a breakdown just outside his door. Mama was determined that I would be the first, but I suppose you got here ahead of me."

  "You think I – ? Certainly not. I am a friend of the family, invited to stay a few days to help renovate the castle."

  "And you have no interest in the Duke?"

  "None," she said shortly. "And I do not understand how you can you lend yourself to such a scheme."

  "Oh, well, I wouldn't do it, of course, if he was old and ugly, but now I have met him I think he is very good
looking and so charming. Don't you find him so?"

  "No," Gina said gruffly. "I think he is insufferable."

  "Really?" Athene's voice became theatrical. "Do you mean that, beneath his good looks, there lurks a darker side?"

  "Definitely!"

  "How very intriguing!"

  "Be careful, Athene. He is no fool. Broken carriage, indeed!"

  "You think he saw through me? No matter. As long as he realises how rich I am."

  "Athene!"

  "Don't be so shocked. We are not all bluestockings like you. You may float loftily above such mundane matters, but the rest of us have to go out and find husbands."

  Her voice became low and conspiratorial.

  "Between us, Mama is very cross with me for failing to bring Lord Renton up to scratch. Well, actually I did bring him up to scratch, but I could not make myself agree to his proposal. He smelled of camphor.

  "To be fair to him, he was very nice about it. He told Mama that he had not proposed, so that she wouldn't blame me. But I think she suspects the truth and she told me that I must do better this time, or she would be very angry."

  Athene paused for dramatic effect.

  "So I really must make a success of this one," she finished.

  "And the title is all you want?" Gina asked.

  "Falling in love would be nice too, of course. And I think I could make him fall in love with me, don't you?"

  She fluttered her eyelashes dramatically.

  "Yes," Gina agreed shortly. "I do."

  "But you are my friend," Athene said, eyes swimming with sincerity, "and if it were your wish, I would defer to your prior claim."

  "I make no claim," Gina said. "You may marry him with a clear conscience."

  She blew out the candle and tried to settle down to sleep, but her thoughts were in turmoil.

  'I am so stupid,' she told herself. 'Why did I have to quarrel with him? After that moment in the keep when – well, nearly.'

  She sighed.

  'And fancy quoting Latin, and confirming all his worst prejudices about educated women. Why didn't I just keep quiet and say, 'oh, how wonderful you are'!'

  But then she sat up in bed, thinking,

  'Because I cannot do that. If that is the kind of silly scatterbrain he wants, then he is not the man for me. Athene will suit him admirably and everything is wonderful. I could not be happier.'

  After that there was nothing to do but thump the pillow, by way of showing how happy she was.

  *

  The groom's injury proved to be of the useful kind that would need attention for several days, without making it necessary for anyone to fear for his well-being.

  Miss Wicks-Henderson was thus free to enjoy the Duke's company without appearing heartless.

  On the next morning he offered to show her the district on horseback to which she willingly agreed. Benedict also joined the expedition and it was he who insisted that Gina accompany them.

  "Indeed no," she said hurriedly. "I thank you, but I have a great deal of work to do."

  "I am sure that Ambrose can manage the invitations without you," intervened John, who had overheard.

  "I cannot leave all the work to him and your mother will also need my assistance."

  "Mama has Pharaoh's help and a better major-domo I never saw. Also Sonia and Imelda are skilled in this kind of organisation. She will certainly not need you as well."

  When Gina still hesitated, he came towards her with his most disarming smile, and took her hands between his. Benedict tactfully melted away.

  "Are you still angry with me?" John asked.

  "I do not see why you should say that," she replied gruffly.

  "Because I behaved abominably last night. For some reason I was annoyed, although I cannot now remember why. And I made you suffer for it. Say you forgive me."

  "There is nothing to forgive."

  His smile grew a little whimsical as he said,

  "But perhaps I have something to forgive. It was very unkind of you to quote Latin, when you knew I didn't understand. But I forgive you for being cleverer than me."

  "Don't be absurd," she said, blushing. "Of course I am not."

  "Why Gina, you are surely not conceding the superiority of my masculine intellect?" he teased.

  "No, but I will agree that you have a lot to teach me about cunning," she retorted with spirit. "You don't mean a word of it. You are merely trying to put me in the wrong."

  He raised his eyebrows.

  "Is such a thing possible?"

  She smiled back at him.

  "I refuse to let you annoy me," she said. "Have an enjoyable ride."

  "But I insist that you come with us?"

  Firmly she shook her head.

  "Is it settled?" Benedict asked, rejoining them.

  "Gina refuses to accompany us," John told him.

  "I have too much work to do," Gina repeated.

  "Then I will remain and help you," Benedict offered at once. "How shocking of us all to go off on a pleasure jaunt and leave you to do all the work."

  "Oh, but you must come with us, both of you," said Athene in dismay. "I cannot ride alone with the Duke." She lowered her eyes modestly. "It would not be proper."

  "I will have a horse brought round for you at once," John told Gina. "And no more arguments."

  She saw that he was determined and hurried away to change into her riding habit.

  Normally she would have been pleased with the picture she presented in her olive green habit, but she could not think of that now. She would have given anything not to have to watch John flirting with Athene.

  She knew her worst fears had been realised when she saw her friend in a black broadcloth habit that showed off her elegant figure enchantingly. Both John and Benedict were regarding her with admiration.

  All the horses in the castle stables were past their best, but the grooms managed to produce four animals of reasonable quality and they all rode off together.

  It was a lovely day as they set out to explore the countryside. John and Athene cantered on ahead in animated conversation. Gina rode beside Benedict, whom she already liked a good deal. Benedict's father was a country parson and she, the grand-daughter of a clergyman, found no difficulty in talking to him.

  Before long they discovered something else in common. Benedict's mother and sisters were women of learning, and the female education that apparently horrified John seemed natural to this young man with the round kindly face.

  When Gina told him how she had fought John with Latin phrases, Benedict shouted with laughter, causing the two in front to turn and regard them.

  "You were taking a risk, ma'am," Benedict spluttered, wiping his eyes.

  "It annoyed him very much," she said in a tone of satisfaction, just loud enough for John to hear.

  "I'll wager it did. John, what a very brave lady this must be to challenge you in Latin."

  John ground his teeth. Why did the wretched girl have to tell that story?

  He let his horse fall back until he was riding beside Gina, the better to hear what she was saying. There was no knowing what she might come out with.

  Athene also fell back, so that she rode beside Benedict.

  "We had a mild dispute," John said with a slight shrug. "But we resolved it, did we not?"

  "Indeed we did," Gina agreed cordially.

  "But what exactly did you say to him?" Benedict wanted to know.

  Gina said lightly,

  "I merely observed that 'cave quid dicis, quando, et cui'."

  "To which, of course, there can be only one answer," John put in quickly. 'Vir sapit qui pauca loquitur'.

  He carefully refrained from saying that this was the answer that he had actually given, an omission that Benedict duly noted.

  "I am not sure of that," he said thoughtfully. "I would have thought a far better response would have been, 'Pessimum genus inimicorum laudates,' Don't you agree, ma'am?"

  "I was about to say exactly the same," Gina res
ponded solemnly.

  Since the words meant 'flatterers are the worst kind of enemies', Benedict was doubtful if this really was a more apt response. But if there was one thing certain in the world, it was that John had not the slightest idea, one way or another.

  Unable to resist tossing a stick onto the fire, he asked innocently,

  "Would that be your opinion, old fellow?"

  "My opinion," John growled "is that no man should trust his friends."

  He really should have known better. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Benedict and Gina exchanged glances and drew breath to speak together.

  "And if either one of you translates that into Latin, I will throw the pair of you into the dungeons," John growled before urging his horse forward, leaving the other two choking with laughter.

  Athene joined him. She had been listening to the conversation, eyes wide.

  "Latin sounds like such a difficult language," she sighed admiringly. "How clever gentlemen must be to learn it!"

  He frowned a little at that. How much had she managed to understand?

  "It is actually Gina who is the expert," he admitted reluctantly.

  "Oh, surely not," she sighed with passionate fervour.

  He considered trying to explain and thought better of it.

  Besides, what did it matter? Athene's gloriously blue eyes were gazing at him.

  Behind his back he heard Benedict and Gina laughing again and it took all his determination not to turn round to look at them.

  After a while he made some humorous remark and Athene's delightful laugh was like the rippling of a brook. This time he did turn round to see if Gina was observing how well he was playing the part she had assigned to him.

  But to his annoyance she and Benedict had fallen behind and were out of earshot. They were no longer laughing but, seemed deep in some conversation so interesting that they were clearly oblivious of all else.

  Athene also noticed.

  "Oh, dear!" she said prettily. "Do they not wish for our company?"

  How charming was her modesty, he thought. It almost made up for the boredom of her conversation.

  At that moment Gina laughed again, evidently at some witticism of Benedict's.

  "Let us rejoin them," he said.

  Together they turned their horses and fell into step beside the others. John had meant to arrange matters so that he and Athene were still riding side by side, but somehow things worked out differently and Athene finished up beside Benedict, and John was obliged by courtesy to ride with Gina.