Journey to Happiness

by Barbara Cartland

  She had never met this before in any young gentleman. Usually they shared her interest in horses, but the majority of men thought flowers and birds were a female delight and they were too masculine to profess any particular interest in them.

  But Robin liked both and had learnt a great deal about them from his mother, whose garden was famous.

  He too was reacting with delight at finding a woman who was content for him to discuss flowers and birds rather than pay her compliments.

  “What I have always wanted,” Harriet said, “is a huge garden sloping down to a stream. I long to feel, when I am moving amongst the flowers that this is a Heaven of its own and the flowers themselves want me to love them.”

  “I know exactly how you feel,” Robin agreed. “But I have always found that when I was in the company of a woman she wanted me to talk about her and not about her surroundings.”

  “Oh, yes, people grow bored at discussing such topics,” Harriet pointed out eagerly. “They either want to be praised or gossip unpleasantly about their friends.”

  “You should see my mother’s garden. “She has taken so much trouble in finding new flowers. Some of them come from abroad. Those by the stream have come from strange rivers she has visited in different parts of the world.”

  Harriet clasped her hands together and pleaded,

  “Oh, you must let me see them. I so long to find the garden I have dreamt of, but now I am afraid of going home.”

  “When we do go home I will look after you,” Robin promised.

  “That may not be for some time,” Martina observed in a discouraging voice.

  “However long it takes, I shall be waiting,” Robin declared fervently, his eyes still riveted on Harriet.

  “You ought to put a stop to this,” Martina muttered to Hugh. “He is only amusing himself.”

  “I am not sure that he is,” Hugh whispered. “In any case, putting a stop to it would be quite beyond my power.”

  Neither of the other two had noticed this exchange.

  “You can come to my family’s country house,” Robin was saying. “My mother would love to meet you and we will give you a false name for safety.”

  “Whatever would you call me?”

  “I was just thinking while we were talking, which flower you remind me of,” he replied. “I decided it was one particular one and maybe you will be a little disappointed that it is not more exotic.

  “It is one of the flowers I love the best, especially as it appears when the winter is over and the spring has just arrived.”

  “I cannot think which flower you mean.”

  “I was thinking that you remind me of a primrose, especially as you look now,” he added, with a glance at her dress. They are such pretty gentle flowers.”

  “I think that is beautiful and I am very happy to be a primrose,” Harriet breathed.

  “I am so glad because to me a primrose means the beauty and delight of spring. It means the sunshine and, more important than anything else, the happiness which comes with love and is true and real and not pretending to be anything different.”

  “I know what you mean and thank you for being so complimentary. But I am afraid that perhaps now I will never be able to see the soft gentleness of the English spring again.”

  “You are not to be frightened,” Robin urged. “You have me to look after you now.”

  Harriet gave him her gentle smile.

  “When you talk like that, I am not afraid.”

  “What we have to do,” he said, “is make every moment count. It is always a great mistake to look into the future. None of us really knows what will happen. Our destiny may lie somewhere very different from where we are at the moment. So forget yesterday and think only of tomorrow.”

  Harriet smiled at him.

  “Oh, yes,” she agreed, “and I am trying to do just that. It is so wonderful to be here and to be able to talk to you without being afraid of what I may say.”

  “I want you to say exactly what you feel in your heart,” he replied seriously. “And I shall do the same.”

  They smiled at each other. Then somehow there was no need to say any more.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  After dinner Robin took Harriet for a stroll on deck under the stars leaving the other two behind.

  “Did you hear their conversation?” Martina exclaimed, exasperated.

  “I heard” replied Hugh, “but I am sure I don’t know what there was to annoy you.”

  “If you believe that young man loves flowers you will believe anything,” she declared. She imitated Robin mockingly. ‘Come and see my mother’s garden and I adore primroses.’ Honestly!”

  Hugh grinned.

  “Unlikely as it sounds, it’s all true. His mother does have a wonderful garden. And since he is devoted to his mother he has really learned a great deal from her. He knows plants and loves them. I promise you there is more to Robin than the rather shallow young man he may seem at first.”

  “Indeed? Well, you know him much better than I, so I shall trust your judgement,” she said demurely.

  He eyed her with misgiving.

  “Come, Martina, this meekness is most unlike you. Trusting my judgement? Whatever are you thinking about?”

  “There is no need to cast aspersions on my character.”

  “I was not. I admire you. The trouble is that you are normally so positive and determined that when you say anything meek and docile it does not sound like you.”

  “I can be as meek and docile as any woman,” she informed him. “And if you dare to disagree I’ll tread on your foot!”

  “That’s my girl!” he applauded appreciatively.

  They laughed together.

  “Seriously,” she said, “can that rattle-pate be trusted up on deck with Harriet in the moonlight?”

  “Perhaps we had better go and act like chaperones.”

  They climbed up the steps and strolled along the deck listening to the sound of the water. Above them the moon was briefly hidden by clouds, but suddenly it emerged, flooding the scene below with silver light and causing Hugh to stop suddenly.

  “Look,” he whispered.

  The moonlight had picked out the figures of two young people embracing, oblivious to the entire world.

  “This is terrible!” Martina cried. “You must stop them.”

  “Why? I never tell my guests what to do. Neither of us has any authority in this matter. And it was you who said she might meet somebody on this journey.”

  “But I didn’t mean – ”

  “Nobody can choose for someone else, Martina. We all love where we love. Sometimes we wish we didn’t, but it happens whether we want it or not.”

  She guessed what he was really saying to her, and her heart leapt.

  “Let us creep away,” Hugh mumbled. “We are not needed here.”

  Laughing they retreated and soon the moon had vanished again, so that she could barely see him leaning on the rail and regarding her.

  The sight of Harriet with Robin had affected Martina. Now she recalled again the moment when Hugh had pulled her into his arms and kissed her with fierce passion, so much at variance with his normal gentlemanly self.

  He too must be thinking of that moment, she was sure, thinking about it and longing to repeat it.

  Just as she was longing for him to kiss her again, if she was to be honest with herself.

  She looked at Hugh trying to tell him without words that she needed his kiss.

  Instead he took her hand and held it between both his. After a moment, with her pulses racing as she wondered what he meant to do, he dropped his head and laid his lips against the back of her hand.

  Then, without raising his head, he turned her hand over and kissed her palm with lips that seemed to scorch her. Pleasure travelled like wildfire up her arm and across her skin until she was trembling with delight.

  Martina took deep breaths to steady herself against the power of such strong feelings. Surely now he would kiss
her, as she yearned for him to do.

  But he looked up at her. When he spoke it was in an unsteady voice.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I gave you my word.”

  “Wh-what ? ”

  “That day you came to my house and I – behaved disgracefully, you made me promise never to repeat it. You made it clear that you could not entrust yourself to me unless I gave you my word as a gentleman.”

  This was not how Martina remembered the incident at all. It was true that Hugh had promised not to kiss her again, but she was quite unable to recall having demanded it.

  In fact, she would have had to be losing her senses to ask him for any such promise.

  And, far from losing her senses, she had the feeling of having only just come to them.

  “I pledged my word to you that I would not behave in such a way again,” he repeated.

  She pulled herself together.

  “It is perfectly all right, Hugh. Please do not concern yourself.”

  “You are very kind. Perhaps you should retire below now before I forget myself again.”

  She could have screamed with frustration.

  ‘Go on, forget yourself!’ she wanted to cry. ‘Stop being a gentleman and kiss me!’

  Instead, she merely inclined her head graciously and slipped her arm through his. He walked her to the steps that led below and watched until she was out of sight.

  Martina almost ran to her cabin. She was pervaded with a sense of adventure, a new kind of adventure.

  It was going to be hard to flirt with Hugh, she realised. She had rejected him so often in the past that now he no longer knew what to make of her.

  But that made him a challenge and even more interesting.

  Martina’s eyes gleamed in anticipation of the duel to come.

  *

  When they met the next morning, Martina greeted Hugh with a demure smile and a polite hope that he had spent a restful night.

  Hugh courteously thanked her for her enquiry, but mourned the fact that his night had been troubled.

  “For some reason I simply could not go to sleep,” he sighed. “My thoughts disturbed me, madam.”

  “Any particular thoughts?”

  “The usual ones – with perhaps a few new variations.”

  Her lips twitched.

  “My sympathies, sir.”

  “Your pity is wasted, madam. I enjoyed my thoughts and dreams immensely.” His eyes gleamed. “As I always do.”

  “I am so delighted to hear it.”

  “May I ask if you enjoyed a restful night?”

  “Perfectly, thank you. I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. As I always do.”

  “You are very fortunate. Robin, Harriet, how nice to see you this morning. I trust you spent an enjoyable evening after you left us.”

  “Thank you, it was most interesting,” Robin responded solemnly.

  “Lord Brompton was showing me the stars,” Harriet sighed, “and explaining all the different constellations.”

  “That must have been most enlightening,” Hugh agreed.

  His eye flickered briefly towards Martina, sharing the knowledge of what they had both seen the night before. She laid her hand over her mouth to hide her giggles.

  From then on everything was subtly changed.

  Without a word being said, they each knew that she was no longer indifferent to him but that the situation was far from simple.

  Hugh was a proud man, prouder than Martina had ever imagined. He had offered himself to her and been rejected more than once. Now he was cautious, unwilling to admit his love too freely to a woman who might merely be indulging a caprice.

  One thing was beyond doubt. This man was not going to fall at her feet and thank her for finally noticing him. And she found that she respected him more for that.

  “How long before we reach Monte Carlo?” she asked later that day as they stood gazing out to sea.

  “I am not quite certain that Monte Carlo is an entirely proper place for a young lady to be so eager to visit,” he replied in a censorious voice. “Nice might be better, or Menton.”

  “I believe they have recently opened a train from Nice to Menton,” Martina observed. “And it passes through Monte Carlo.”

  “Meaning that if I stop in either of those places you will jump ship and catch the next train?”

  “Meaning precisely that.”

  “Fie, Miss Lawson. Anyone would think you cared for gambling.”

  “Perhaps I do. How can I tell until I have visited a casino?”

  It was fifteen years since the lavish, extravagant casino had been opened in Monte Carlo. Now that there was also a new railway and a main road, visitors flocked there, attracted by the glittering high life.

  Luxurious hotels had sprung up. The Grand Theatre had been opened with a special performance by the great actress Sarah Bernhardt. Monte Carlo was the place to be.

  “I must confess that I am surprised at you,” Hugh admonished her, “and a little disappointed.”

  “Why?”

  “I understood that you were devoted to Reason.”

  “I am.”

  “Monte Carlo is known for many pleasures, but few of them, I believe, are intellectual.”

  “I did not say I was intellectual, I merely pointed out that I was devoted to Reason,” she crowed triumphantly. “I am sure, if I think hard enough that I can work out a reason for enjoying Monte Carlo.”

  He grinned.

  “That is your own personal kind of logic, is it? You invented it?”

  “If we are going to talk about logic, I think you will come off rather badly, Hugh. I remember certain remarks of yours about how women should not possess too many brains. I have now decided that you are right. Henceforth I shall live a life of frivolity!”

  “That I should like to see.”

  “You will see it,” she prophesied.

  “I doubt it. Frivolity does not come naturally to you. But I own I should like to see you being more light-hearted.”

  Martina gave a little sigh.

  “One day – when I know that Harriet is safe.”

  “Cannot you forget your responsibilities for one moment and think of yourself?”

  “But I certainly will when we reach Monte Carlo. And in case you think I am going to reduce you to bankruptcy, have no fear. I have brought my own money and so has Harriet.

  “In fact, we both wish to pay our own way and perhaps it’s time you and I spoke about this issue. Neither of us wishes to be a charge on you.”

  “Good grief, Martina!” he cried, revolted. “Do you think that I would expect you to pay for your keep? Is that your opinion of me?”

  “Well, is it your opinion of me that I will simply impose on you without thought of the cost?”

  “I thought we were friends. You know I don’t care what it costs.”

  “Yes, but – please, Hugh, don’t be offended.”

  “Should I not be offended when you offer me money? Excuse me!”

  Without another word he walked away, leaving her alone and dismayed.

  At one time she would have thought she could predict exactly what Hugh would say or do in any situation. Now his reactions took her by surprise. Clearly his pride had been offended and she supposed she ought to have realised that it might be.

  She wandered along the deck to the sun lounge and sat there, comfortably shielded from the wind, watching the ocean slip past. It was here that Hugh found her a few minutes later.

  He was followed into the lounge by a Steward bearing coffee and cakes, which he set down on a low table. When the Steward had left Hugh said,

  “Am I forgiven? I really did not mean to be so ill-tempered.”

  “I didn’t mean to be so clumsy. It was just that I dumped myself and Harriet onto you, without asking you if – well – ”

  “If I could afford it?” he teased.

  “You know that’s not what I meant. I just felt a little awkward.”

  “Wi
th such an old friend, you should not have done. Now, let’s forget all about it. And keep your money to lose at the tables.”

  Martina considered for a moment and then decided to risk a small lure.

  “Why do you bother with me?” she enquired.

  “I ask myself that all the time. ‘Why do I bother with her?’ I muse in the small hours. ‘Why don’t I just toss her overboard? It would be so easy. No one would miss her.’”

  She smiled her appreciation at his tactics.

  “And what answer do you give yourself?” she asked.

  “I don’t. It is a mystery beyond comprehension why anyone should bother with you for one moment. I may come to a decision one day, but by that time we will probably both be old and grey.”

  “I wonder what we will be doing when we are old and grey,” she pondered.

  “I wonder too.”

  The door of the saloon opened and Harriet looked in, smiling when she saw them.

  “Is Robin not with you?” Hugh asked as she came over and sat with them.

  “No, he’s on the bridge, trying to persuade the Captain to let him take the wheel.”

  “Good Heavens!” Hugh muttered faintly.

  “Don’t worry, the Captain was standing firm,” Harriet reassured him. “He said even if he would have considered it normally, which he wouldn’t, it was out of the question when we were about to pass through the Straits of Gibraltar, because it is only eight miles wide.”

  “Perfectly true,” Hugh said with relief.

  “I am afraid Robin didn’t appreciate it. He said eight miles was plenty of room.”

  “Some people could run a ship aground in eighty miles. Thank goodness my Captain has a sense of duty.”

  “I have been asking Hugh when we will reach Monte Carlo,” Martina piped up.

  “Some time tomorrow according to the Captain,” Harriet said. “Probably in the evening.”

  “I thought we would put into Gibraltar tonight,” Hugh remarked, adding innocently, “unless, of course, you ladies would prefer to go in the other direction and stop in Tangier.”

  “You are going to say something outrageous, aren’t you?” Martina asked in a resigned voice. “Why should we prefer Tangier?”

  “I just thought it might be an easier place for a man with two wives to find acceptance!”