Love Came From Heaven

by Barbara Cartland

  She heard the man ask for two First Class tickets to London and a moment later he gave one to Selena.

  “Shall we go and find the train?” he suggested.

  By now she was incapable of independent thought.

  She allowed the man to pick up her Gladstone bag and, clutching the precious ticket, followed him to where a porter stood in charge of a battered-looking case.

  As they walked towards the train, Selena suddenly feared that her life might be repeating itself.

  Was this man, whom she currently believed to be her Guardian Angel, just like every other man she had ever come across? Had he bought her a ticket just to claim a kiss from her? Would he feel that she owed him that much?

  Then she realised that she was in fact holding her ticket and relief washed over her.

  The fact that he had given it to her meant she was, to a certain extent, still in control of her journey. If she did not like his behaviour, she could always change carriages.

  Surely if this Wakefield man had sinister intents he would have kept her ticket with his, she reasoned to herself.

  A few moments later both Selena and her rescuer were handed into a comfortable carriage. The liveried porter swung both cases up onto the rack and pocketed the tip he was given, touching his cap appreciatively as he left.

  Selena looked nervously up at the tall gentleman standing in the doorway of the carriage. With the light behind him casting harsh shadows across his face it was hard to make out his expression.

  Could she trust him?

  He seemed genuine, but was he really yet another man determined to turn her into his plaything? If he was, then he was certainly disguising his real intentions rather better than most of the others.

  “Please,” he began courteously, “do sit down.”

  He waved towards one of the corner seats.

  “I realise we have not been introduced. Since there is no one here to perform this formality, will you allow me tell you that I am Alexander Wakefield?”

  How different he was from Lord Taverner!

  There was no innuendo in his voice, no suggestion that he wanted to do anything more than act towards her in a straightforward manner.

  “Then I think you must be Lord Wakefield,” Selena found herself saying with an unfamiliar confidence. “Did you not ask that other man if he had heard your speech in the House of Lords?”

  “I can see you are an intelligent girl,” he replied, his expression keen and interested. “Yes, I have to admit to being a member of the Peerage. In fact I am an Earl.”

  Selena was so delighted at being told that she was intelligent, she forgot all about her usual embarrassment at having to talk to a stranger.

  Next came the sound of a whistle and with a jerk and a slow rumble the train began to inch forward.

  It was then that Selena realised no other passengers had joined them and she was alone in the carriage with the Earl.

  Quelling another tide of worry she calmed herself by remembering that this was a corridor train, meaning that not only was a ticket inspector likely to come along, but also escape from unwanted attentions would be easy.

  Not that she felt that likely at the moment.

  The Earl sat down opposite her and leaned back in his seat, examining her in a kindly way, rather like an aged grandfather would study an interesting grandchild.

  Except that his age could not be very much more than thirty.

  “I have been the Earl of Wakefield since I was five years old when my father died out hunting,” he explained in a straightforward manner. “It is something I have grown up with. My membership of the House of Lords is a great bonus of my position, as at least you have the feeling that you might be able to achieve something for the benefit of the country. Everything else about being a Peer is pretty boring.”

  Selena laughed.

  “My father would have loved to have met you. He was Lord Norton,” she replied, her face suddenly sad, “but he died when I was only twelve.”

  “I am delighted to meet you, Miss Norton. I knew your father very briefly,” he replied, leaning forward. “He was splendid. We both agreed that a landed title without a fortune to keep it going is ridiculous. I was so sorry when I heard that he had died and I wrote to your mother.”

  Selena’s eyes misted over.

  “She received so many letters of condolence; it seemed that others loved my father as much as we did.”

  “Did I hear that Lady Norton has married again?”

  Selena gave a deep sigh.

  “Poor Mama – she was so very lonely. I suppose I was too young to make up for losing Papa.”

  A tear fell as she remembered the number of times she had attempted to comfort her beloved Mama without success. She wiped it away as unobtrusively as she could.

  “I tried so hard to make Mama interested in things,” she continued. “The new Lord Norton took over the family seat, so we moved on to Richmond.

  “There was quite a large garden, but in a very poor state. I love flowers and shrubs and I suggested that Mama help me redesign it.”

  Selena sighed again.

  “Did she not assist you?” asked the Earl, sounding interested.

  “She tried very hard, but I saw that she only did it to please me. It was really left to Field and me, the gardener we brought with us, to do everything.”

  Selena paused as she recalled how she had worked with the old retainer to create the new garden.

  “I loved watching the plants grow and develop and planning different effects at different times of the year, but Mama’s heart was not in it. She could not visualise how a planting scheme would develop – not as I could.”

  The Earl looked impressed.

  “Where did you learn about such things?”

  “From Field. He once worked for an immense estate and knows a great deal.”

  She smiled reminiscently.

  “He and I became good friends and he taught me so much.”

  She paused for a moment, then said resolutely,

  “Mama met Mr. Anstruther when she was staying with an old friend. She told me he was immediately struck with her beauty and that nothing would satisfy him but that she became Mrs. Anstruther.”

  “That must have been difficult for you.”

  Selena nodded without speaking but after a moment she responded,

  “You see, there was the fact that we had very little money and Mama said that she was determined to launch me properly into Society. She wanted – ”

  Her voice became constricted.

  “She wanted me to have as happy a marriage as she had had with my dear Papa. Marriage to Mr. Anstruther, she insisted, meant that everything could be arranged in the most advantageous way because he was very rich.”

  “And has it been a happy marriage?”

  Selena gave another deep sigh.

  “We moved into the Anstruther house in Mayfair. I hated leaving the garden, but Mama was happy to leave her memories behind – they were too painful.”

  The Earl looked at her sympathetically and Selena thought how easy it was to talk to him.

  “I believe they were happy, but then Mama became very ill and two years ago she died.”

  “Oh, my dear Miss Norton, I am so sorry,” the Earl exclaimed, the sympathy in his deep voice comforting and reassuring.

  He pulled a large handkerchief from his sleeve and handed it to Selena.

  She blew her nose and wiped her eyes.

  “What happened to you then?”

  “An aged aunt of Mama’s, Great-Aunt Selma took me in.”

  Selena twisted the handkerchief in her hands.

  “She was very kind but, oh, she was so ancient!”

  The Earl laughed.

  “I am sure that was very difficult for you. And no doubt for her too,” he added.

  “As she never stopped telling me,” she answered dolefully.

  She remembered so vividly sitting with Great-Aunt Selma in the drawing room of her dark
and gloomy house in North London, being prevented from doing anything but embroidery or studying her school books.

  “And just as I was coming up for my seventeenth birthday, she died.”

  “So once again you were robbed of a home life?”

  Selena nodded.

  “Except that, though I was very fond of Great-Aunt Selma and did not wish her to die, I did not regret going to live somewhere more lively.”

  “Which was where?”

  “Great-Aunt Selma had no children of her own, but she did have a niece on her husband’s side. She left her all her money with the wish that she would look after me.”

  Selena gave a strangled laugh.

  “Great Aunt-Selma’s will stipulated – ‘to look after Selena Norton in the same manner that I have employed.’ Mrs. Bathurst, the niece, said no one ever managed to gain Great Aunt-Selma’s approval on anything, but she supposed she would have to try!”

  The Earl laughed again.

  “That does not sound too encouraging.”

  Selena frowned.

  “Mrs. Bathurst is a nice woman, but she has three daughters, one three years older than I, one two years and the third the same age.”

  She paused, wondering just how to put what had to be said next.

  “Don’t tell me; they are all remarkably plain,” the Earl declared, “and poor Mrs. Bathurst thought they would look even plainer beside you.”

  “How did you know?”

  Selena was amazed that he understood the situation without her having to explain.

  The Bathurst girls had so resented Selena coming to live with them.

  They had all flown into rages, insisting they had no chance at all in the marriage market if Selena went around with them.

  “I moved in Society for a number of years myself,” the Earl remarked with an understanding smile.

  “Then one day I was helping Hermione, the eldest girl, to choose some ribbons – she said that my taste was impeccable – although I never understood why she would think so when she was so down on me in every other way.”

  “If I might be permitted a comment on your dress,” the Earl said in a genial way, “I think it shows great style.”

  Selena blushed.

  “Anyway,” she continued hurriedly. “In the middle of Bond Street we ran into Mr. Anstruther. He sometimes came to visit me at Great-Aunt Selma’s, saying he owed it to the memory of his beloved wife and my darling Mama.”

  She made use of the Earl’s handkerchief again.

  “He said he was delighted to have met up with me as he had only the day before called at Great-Aunt Selma’s and was exceedingly upset to learn of her demise.”

  “And were you pleased to see him?”

  Selena nodded.

  “I was then. He reminded me so much of the happy times when my Mama was alive. Only Hermione became bored because Mr. Anstruther did not seem to be interested in talking to her. She said we had no time left for stopping and talking in the middle of the street and must move on, but Mr. Anstruther wrote down the address of the Bathursts and then called there the following day.”

  She paused.

  What followed had seemed at the time to be such a wonderful opportunity for her.

  “He brought his new bride, Beatrice, with him. She seemed pleasant and when he told me that they wanted to suggest that I came to live with them, I thought it would be a very good idea.”

  “Ah,” the Earl murmured. “May I suggest that Mrs. Bathurst and her daughters had done everything they could to ensure that you presented as plain an appearance as possible?”

  Selena was amazed again.

  “How did you know?”

  She had hated the way her hair had been pulled back into a severe style that did not flatter her fragile features and made to wear ill-fitting dark coloured dresses. Mostly these horrid garments had been Hermione’s cast offs, who was considerably larger than Selena and did not like bright colours.

  Nor had she been allowed to adjust the fitting. Mrs. Bathurst had said such an action would demonstrate the sin of vanity and would be exactly the sort of thing that Great Aunt Selma would disapprove of.

  “My wife had two cousins,” the Earl answered, “the younger one was much more beautiful than the elder and such contrivances were often used until the elder secured a husband.”

  “What did your wife think about that?”

  The Earl looked faintly embarrassed.

  “I’m not sure that she ever told me. She sadly died in childbirth some ten months after we married.” After the slightest of pauses, he added, “ – and the child died too.”

  “I am so sorry.”

  Selena was devastated to hear how this nice man had endured such an appalling tragedy.

  She felt slightly embarrassed to have been prattling on about having to wear unflattering clothes in the face of such sadness.

  “How you must have suffered.”

  The Earl looked out of the carriage window.

  “It is something I have learnt to live with,” he said in quite a different voice.

  She understood that it was a subject he did not like to talk about, so after a moments hesitation she carried on with her story.

  “So, I went to live with Mr. and Mrs. Anstruther.”

  “Goodness – that must have been your third home after the death of your Mama?”

  She nodded.

  “By this time I was becoming used to adapting to different households.”

  “Had you at last found a home where you could be happy?”

  The way the Earl asked the question suggested that he suspected the truth might be somewhat different.

  What a sensitive man he was, Selena reflected.

  “At first I was happy. Although Mr. Anstruther is so very different from Papa, Mama had seemed reasonably content with him – and his house is very comfortable.

  “He is very rich indeed,” she added. “And he will recompense you for the cost of my ticket.”

  The Earl waved a hand as though to indicate that it was a matter of no value.

  “I was happy to be of help,” he muttered. “But do carry on. When did the snake enter the Garden of Eden?”

  Selena gave a gurgle of laughter – it was such a droll way of putting it.

  Then she sobered up as she realised she would have to explain her dilemma.

  How could she put it and what on earth would the Earl think?

  CHAPTER TWO

  Selena smoothed the Earl’s handkerchief over her knees and then folded it while she tried to think of the best way to explain her position.

  “At first Beatrice, that is Mrs. Anstruther, was most kind to me,” she said slowly. “Mr. Anstruther told her that I needed to be dressed as befitted Lord Norton’s daughter and that arrangements should be made to present me at Court. Mrs. Anstruther had not been presented herself, but she was told that a patron could be found for me on payment of a fee.”

  The Earl nodded.

  “I understand such matters are not unknown.”

  “And so I was taken to couture houses and provided with a splendid wardrobe and a maid who could do my hair in the latest fashion.”

  Selena’s hand went automatically to the severe knot on the nape of her neck

  Mrs. Anstruther had told Selena she was to call her Beatrice.

  “After all, my dear,” she had said with a laugh, “we are not so very different in age. I hope you can look on me as a friend rather than as a Stepmama.”

  Selena had not considered Beatrice in the light of a stepmother, but she thought it better not to say so.

  “I would be delighted to call you Beatrice, you have been so kind to me,” she replied and at that stage it was true.

  Beatrice then organised a most attractive wardrobe for Selena and found an impecunious but titled widow to present her at Court.

  Grateful as Selena was to her stepfather’s new wife, she could not help finding her a somewhat shallow woman whose main interest seemed to
lie in spending as much of her husband’s money as she could.

  For every dress that Selena had been supplied with, Mrs. Anstruther had bought three for herself.

  Then, several weeks later, Beatrice found that she was expecting a baby.

  Both the Anstruthers were delighted that they were to be parents and Selena even looked forward to the advent of their child.

  But as the volatile Beatrice’s pregnancy progressed she became increasingly inclined to lose her temper over the slightest thing.

  In particular she was short-tempered with the servants and Selena spent considerable effort trying to prevent them from leaving and recruiting new ones when Beatrice had gone too far.

  By Christmas the birth was still four months away, but Beatrice’s size was as large as if she was approaching full term and the possibility of twins was being talked about.

  More and more she closeted herself in her boudoir, lying on her chaise longue consuming large boxes of chocolates, talking to her pet dog and throwing a tantrum whenever anyone suggested she should do something healthy.

  On many evenings Selena and her stepfather dined without her before he disappeared off to his Club.

  Then came Christmas and Mr. Anstruther remained more often at home, but not to be a companion to his complaining wife.

  To her immense discomfort Selena slowly became aware that he was making excuses to become closer to her.

  When he had been married to her mother, he had taught Selena to play chess and she had enjoyed the game, but now he would lean towards her over the board, brushing her hand with his as he moved the chess pieces.

  Or else he would insist on playing piano duets with her, placing his body so closely against hers on the stool that she could feel his breath on her bare neck.

  Should Beatrice not accompany her husband when they visited friends, which was happening increasingly often, he would wrap Selena’s cloak around her with hands that stayed too long on her shoulders.

  The first time her stepfather jokingly caught Selena beneath a bunch of mistletoe in the hall and kissed her, she laughed it off, quickly escaping from his grasp.

  Then, two days after Christmas, they returned from a neighbourhood party, which Beatrice had not felt well enough to attend.

  As they entered the house, Mr. Anstruther insisted on Selena having a nightcap with him in the drawing room, where yet another bunch of mistletoe had been hung.