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The Bride Runs Away
BARBARA CARTLAND
www.barbaracartland.com
Copyright © 2014 by Cartland Promotions
First published on the Internet in June 2014 by Barbaracartland.com
ISBNs
eBook 978-1-78213-567-8
Print 978-1-78213-503-6
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanically, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval, without the prior permission in writing from the publisher.
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THE BRIDE RUNS AWAY
“It was the most fortunate thing I have ever done! Here you are and I have just enjoyed a meal more than I have ever enjoyed one before and I recognised the Parisian touch at every scintillating mouthful.”
Then the Earl said in a very different tone,
“I only hope you are staying. But I will be honest and tell you, as I am sure you have been told already, that I cannot pay you for working for me.”
“That I understand, my Lord. I would be glad to stay for reasons I don’t wish to discuss at present, while I make up my mind where I will go next.”
The Earl stared at her and then he said,
“I have the strangest feeling, although I may well be wrong, that you are running away. Can that be true?”
“As it happens, it is,” Iona replied. “But I have no wish to talk about it, my Lord.”
She smiled at him.
“I will be very happy, if it suits you for me to stay or rather hide for a while in your house. I will be delighted to pay for the accommodation by cooking for you, as you may say, with a professional touch.”
“That is the best contract I have ever been offered,” the Earl answered jovially.
He held out his hand and Iona put her hand in his.
As his fingers closed over hers, she had the strange feeling that she was taking a step into the unknown without having the slightest idea of where it might lead her.
THE BARBARA CARTLAND PINK COLLECTION
Barbara Cartland was the most prolific bestselling author in the history of the world. She was frequently in the Guinness Book of Records for writing more books in a year than any other living author. In fact her most amazing literary feat was when her publishers asked for more Barbara Cartland romances, she doubled her output from 10 books a year to over 20 books a year, when she was 77.
She went on writing continuously at this rate for 20 years and wrote her last book at the age of 97, thus completing 400 books between the ages of 77 and 97.
Her publishers finally could not keep up with this phenomenal output, so at her death she left 160 unpublished manuscripts, something again that no other author has ever achieved.
Now the exciting news is that these 160 original unpublished Barbara Cartland books are ready for publication and they will be published by Barbaracartland.com exclusively on the Internet, as the web is the best possible way to reach so many Barbara Cartland readers around the world.
The 160 books will be published monthly and will be numbered in sequence.
The series is called the Pink Collection as a tribute to Barbara Cartland whose favourite colour was pink and it became very much her trademark over the years.
The Barbara Cartland Pink Collection is published only on the Internet. Log on to www.barbaracartland.com to find out how you can purchase the books monthly as they are published, and take out a subscription that will ensure that all subsequent editions are delivered to you by mail order to your home.
If you do not have access to a computer you can write for information about the Pink Collection to the following address :
BarbaraCartland.com
Camfield Place
Hatfield
Hertfordshire
AL9 6JE
United Kingdom
Telephone: +44 1707 642629
Fax: +44 1707 663041
Titles in this series
These titles are currently available for download. For more information please see the Where to buy page at the end of this book.
The Cross Of Love
Love In The Highlands
Love Finds The Way
The Castle Of Love
Love Is Triumphant
Stars In The Sky
The Ship Of Love
A Dangerous Disguise
Love Became Theirs
Love Drives In
Sailing To Love
The Star Of Love
Music Is The Soul Of Love
Love In The East
Theirs To Eternity
A Paradise On Earth
Love Wins In Berlin
In Search Of Love
Love Rescues Rosanna
A Heart In Heaven
The House Of Happiness
Royalty Defeated By Love
The White Witch
They Sought Love
Love Is The Reason For Living
They Found Their Way To Heaven
Learning To Love
Journey To Happiness
A Kiss In The Desert
The Heart Of Love
The Richness Of Love
For Ever And Ever
An Unexpected Love
Saved By An Angel
Touching The Stars
Seeking Love
Journey To Love
The Importance Of Love
Love By The Lake
A Dream Come True
The King Without A Heart
The Waters Of Love
Danger To The Duke
A Perfect Way To Heaven
Follow Your Heart
In Hiding
Rivals For Love
A Kiss From The Heart
Lovers In London
This Way To Heaven
A Princess Prays
Mine For Ever
The Earl’s Revenge
Love At The Tower
Ruled By Love
Love Came From Heaven
Love And Apollo
The Keys Of Love
A Castle Of Dreams
A Battle Of Brains
A Change Of Hearts
It Is Love
The Triumph Of Love
Wanted – A Royal Wife
A Kiss Of Love
To Heaven With Love
Pray For Love
The Marquis Is Trapped
Hide And Seek For Love
Hiding from Love
A Teacher Of Love
Money Or Love
The Revelation Is Love
The Tree Of Love
The Magnificent Marquis
The Castle
The Gates of Paradise
A Lucky Star
A Heaven on Earth
The Healing Hand
A Virgin Bride
The Trail to Love
A Royal Love Match
A Steeplechase for Love
Love at Last
Search for a Wife
Secret Love
A Miracle of Love
Love and the Clans
A Shooting Star
The Winning Post is Love
They Touched Heaven
The Mountain of Love
The Queen Wins
Love and the Gods
Joined by Love
The Duke is Deceived
A Prayer For Love
&nb
sp; Love Conquers War
A Rose in Jeopardy
A Call of Love
A Flight to Heaven
She Wanted Love
A Heart Finds Love
A Sacrifice for Love
Love's Dream in Peril
Soft, sweet & Gentle
An Archangel Called Ivan
A Prisoner in Paris
Danger in the desert
Rescued by Love
A Road to Romance
A Golden Lie
A heart of stone
The Earl Elopes
A Wilder Kind of Love
The Bride Runs Away
THE LATE DAME BARBARA CARTLAND
Barbara Cartland, who sadly died in May 2000 at the grand age of ninety eight, remains one of the world’s most famous romantic novelists. With worldwide sales of over one billion, her outstanding 723 books have been translated into thirty six different languages, to be enjoyed by readers of romance globally.
Writing her first book ‘Jigsaw’ at the age of 21, Barbara became an immediate bestseller. Building upon this initial success, she wrote continuously throughout her life, producing bestsellers for an astonishing 76 years. In addition to Barbara Cartland’s legion of fans in the UK and across Europe, her books have always been immensely popular in the USA. In 1976 she achieved the unprecedented feat of having books at numbers 1 & 2 in the prestigious B. Dalton Bookseller bestsellers list.
Although she is often referred to as the ‘Queen of Romance’, Barbara Cartland also wrote several historical biographies, six autobiographies and numerous theatrical plays as well as books on life, love, health and cookery. Becoming one of Britain's most popular media personalities and dressed in her trademark pink, Barbara spoke on radio and television about social and political issues, as well as making many public appearances.
In 1991 she became a Dame of the Order of the British Empire for her contribution to literature and her work for humanitarian and charitable causes.
Known for her glamour, style, and vitality Barbara Cartland became a legend in her own lifetime. Best remembered for her wonderful romantic novels and loved by millions of readers worldwide, her books remain treasured for their heroic heroes, plucky heroines and traditional values. But above all, it was Barbara Cartland’s overriding belief in the positive power of love to help, heal and improve the quality of life for everyone that made her truly unique.
“Have you noticed when you are in love that somehow the air is cleaner, the sky is brighter, the colours of flowers are sharper, music goes straight to your soul, food tastes delicious whatever you eat and the one you love is so different from anyone else in the whole wide world? And they say that love is ‘a many splendoured thing’!”
Barbara Cartland
CHAPTER ONE
1895
Iona Langdale woke up slowly and, seeing the early morning sun creeping in through the sides of her curtains, thought that if today was fine then tomorrow would be too.
Tomorrow was very important to her, as it was to be her wedding day.
The fuss and commotion over arranging everything had kept everyone in the house busy for nearly a month.
Now she knew that if she looked out of the window she would see the huge marquee erected on the lawn where her guests would be received.
Below, sloping down to the lake, were the barrels of beer that were to be drunk by the workers on the estate and those who lived in the village.
There were to be fireworks at night and Iona knew that everyone locally would be present at what to them was a very special occasion.
When her father had died over a year ago, she had been pressed by every member of the family to get married as soon as possible.
“You cannot possibly live in this vast house all by yourself,” they said. “While we have arranged a rota to come here to look after you, we cannot do it for ever.”
They had laughed before they added,
“Our husbands would strongly object for one thing, although you have offered them excellent shooting in the winter and your marvellous horses to ride, they still prefer being at home and having everything their own way!”
Iona had laughed at this, but she knew it to be true.
Her aunt and cousins had found it rather a burden to be always chaperoning her when they had their own lives and families to attend to.
Nevertheless, they had all been very kind, but she knew if she was honest that they would all heave a sigh of relief tomorrow when she came down the aisle on the arm of her husband.
It had almost seemed like Fate taking a hand when Sir John Moreton, who was the only son of the late Lord Lieutenant, had asked her to be his wife.
For a start their estates almost touched each other so that they would be able to join them together as one.
So Sir John would have Iona’s estate as well as his own to manage and she had thought that he was looking forward to it.
It would be a change to have him running the estate and looking after her rather than her aunts and cousins who always complained that they had had to give up so much of their own interests when they arrived to stay with her.
‘I am very very lucky,’ Iona thought, as she gazed out of the window and imagined what a commotion there would be tomorrow.
Yet it was an event that the local people would talk about for the rest of the year.
Naturally she was to be married in the same Church where she had been Christened.
The local Vicar owed his stipend to her and he was engaged to perform the Wedding Service and Iona felt that everything had been arranged as it ought to be.
Her own household was providing the food that everyone would surely enjoy.
‘I am sure this is the perfect way to be married,’ she thought now to herself, ‘with everyone round me who has known me since I was a child and who were fond of Papa.’
Her father had certainly been very generous where the village was concerned and she knew that their estate pensioners boasted all over the County that they received more generous pensions than anyone else.
It was understandable, because Lord Langdale was an exceedingly wealthy man.
He had not only inherited the huge estate and house when he came into the Barony, but his wife, Iona’s mother, was a great heiress.
Both her money and her father’s were inherited by their only child.
Iona was fully aware that her father had always hoped that he would have a son, but sadly her mother was not very strong.
While she lived until she was over sixty, it was not possible for her to have another baby after Iona was born.
Iona often thought it was unfair for her to have so much, especially the magnificent horses that her father had bought and bred, which he was exceedingly proud of.
‘Of course,’ she had said to herself, ‘I ought to have a brother who could ride them faster and better than I can and who would be thrilled, as my father was, every time he won a race at Newmarket.’
She had been well aware that, because she was such a very rich heiress, her relations were always worried that she would be married for her money rather than for herself and would therefore be unhappy.
They warned her not once but many times against fortune-hunters.
When she ‘came out’ in London and became the ‘Débutante of the Year’, they would scrutinise, she could not help noticing, every man who danced with her and she became tired of being warned against fortune-hunters.
Also she was exasperated by the fact that whenever she had asked a new man to stay, her aunts examined him, as if through a microscope, to find out if he was a genuine gentleman or, as they put it, ‘someone after her money.’
When she told the family that she had promised to marry Sir John Moreton, they had been delighted.
The Moretons were an old family in the County and John’s father had been an extremely good Lord Lieutenant. Everyone respected him and when he died John had taken his place in their affections.
As Iona had
known John ever since she was a child, it would make things easy for him to step into her father’s shoes and run the estate with the same expertise as he did.
She had always been fond of him and he was five years older than herself.
She admired the way he rode, the way he shot and the fact that he was very popular amongst the villagers.
Because she had looked on those who lived in the village almost as if they were related to her, she thought that the men from London, who considered themselves of great stature, would look down on the villagers.
They would perhaps treat them as if they were of no particular consequence and not as her father had done as if they were his children to be looked after and protected.
The house that she lived in – Langdale Hall – was mentioned in the Doomsday Book and had grown more and more majestic throughout the centuries.
The Picture Gallery was so full there was hardly room for any more and the library was bursting with books.
‘It’s my home and I love it so much,’ Iona reflected as she stood at the window.
It was marvellous to think that she would not have to go away and leave it because she had a husband and she was sure that she and John would be very happy together.
He had always been kind and considerate to her and even when she was very small he had taken care of her when they were out hunting.
‘He loves me,’ she pondered as she stood at the window, ‘and, as I love him too, we will be very content.’
She then asked herself what she was going to do for the last day of her freedom.
She knew before she even asked the question that she would walk round the garden and in her own way say goodbye to her childhood.
‘When I am married with a husband to look after me as well as our children, we will be as happy here at The Hall as I have ever been,’ she told herself.
As she could now see the men coming up the drive who she knew would be working on the final arrangements for the wedding, she dressed herself quickly.
For today, the last day of being alone, she did not want to talk to anyone and she merely wanted to think of her future with her husband.
She had to admit during the last year that there had been moments of great loneliness.
Of course she had enjoyed having her relations to stay, but it was not the same as her beloved parents.