A Virgin Bride Read online

  A VIRGIN BRIDE

  BARBARA CARTLAND

  www.barbaracartland.com

  Copyright © 2011 by Cartland Promotions

  First published on the internet in June 2011 by Barbaracartland.com

  ISBNs

  978-1-908411-88-4 Epub

  978-1-908411-89-1 Prc

  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.

  eBook conversion by M-Y Books

  * * *

  A VIRGIN BRIDE

  As her father still did not speak, Venetia piped up,

  “I am waiting, Papa, to hear why you sent for me in such a hurry. I didn’t even have time to say ‘goodbye’ to my friends.

  “My packing was done in such a rush that I warn you I shall need quite a number of the things I was forced to leave behind!”

  She was talking impulsively simply to relieve the tension mounting between her and her father.

  Yet instinctively she knew that he was finding it difficult to say what was on his mind.

  He was looking at her in a strange way that was disconcerting. What she could not know was that he was thinking that she was even more beautiful than her mother had been at the same age.

  Finally he began rather slowly,

  “I have asked you, Venetia, to come here for a very important and special reason.”

  “I am excited to hear it, Papa, I am sure it must be important as you made me leave the Convent so quickly.”

  “It is essential you should be in London tomorrow morning, because your engagement is being announced in The London Gazette to the Duke of Rockinston.”

  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 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 th
e ‘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.

  “Love is like a tempest – majestic, magnificent

  and sweeps all before it.”

  Barbara Cartland

  CHAPTER ONE

  1867

  “The Mother Superior wants you, Venetia!”

  Lady Venetia Brook looked up from her studies.

  “What can she want me about, Eugenie? I have so much to do. I will never finish by tomorrow.”

  “She did not say. She just said, ‘go and fetch Lady Venetia as quickly as possible’.”

  Venetia rose from her desk and put aside the work she was completing for a special lesson.

  She was determined to make her teacher, who was an experienced man of letters, impressed by her research.

  However the Mother Superior took precedence over everyone else and so Venetia hurried along the corridor to the Mother Superior’s room at the far end of the building.

  The Convent School for Young Ladies in Paris was the most outstanding in the whole of Europe and Venetia, who was the Duke of Lynbrook’s daughter, had gone there when she was sixteen.

  She was enjoying herself enormously, finding it so different from being taught at home by a not particularly well-educated Governess.

  The Mother Superior’s room was bathed in sunlight and it was reflected on the huge crucifix that dominated what was otherwise a comfortable sitting room.

  The Mother Superior rose from behind her desk as Venetia entered.

  “I have rather surprising news for you, my child!”

  Venetia bobbed a curtsy to the Mother Superior, as was expected of her.

  “What is it, ma’am?” she enquired expectantly. “I cannot believe it is news from home, because I had a letter from Papa only two days ago.”

  “But it is news from home,” the Mother Superior smiled. “In fact I have just received an urgent letter from your father, saying you are to return immediately.”

  Venetia stared at her incredulous.

  “Return to England! But why? Whatever for?”

  The Mother Superior looked down at the letter she held in her hand.

  “Your father does not give any reason. He merely says you are to return at once and he will be waiting for you at your London house in Berkeley Square.”

  Venetia drew in her breath.

  “I cannot imagine what has happened or why Papa should suddenly wish me to leave before the end of term.”

  “I expect he has a good reason and naturally, my child, you must obey his command.”

  “I think it is so tiresome to be taken away just now, when I have so much I want to do here.”

  She was speaking almost to herself rather than the Mother Superior.

  “You know as well as I do, my child, that you have stayed on longer than is usual. Although we have enjoyed having you and you have been a tremendous help to me in many ways, I really cannot question your father’s decision in wanting you home.”

  “If that was the only reason, I would understand it,” said Venetia. “But you know how busy Papa is. He has a great many obligations in the country and seldom, if he can help it, goes to London.”

  “Well, His Grace is obviously in London now and we must do exactly as he says. I will make arrangements for you to leave early tomorrow morning by train.”

  “That will hardly give me time to say ‘goodbye’ to everybody,” Venetia sighed. “I suppose there will be no chance of coming back to stay until the end of the term?”

  The Mother Superior smiled.

  “I hardly think that your father, if he needs you so urgently, will want you to return. Although, my child, we shall miss you very much, you know as well as I do that you should have left at the end of last summer.”

  “I know, and it was very kind of you to keep me. I have loved every moment of the extra lessons you have arranged for me. I am really quite an expert now, not only on Classical Music but on portraiture and the History of Europe and other subjects not in the usual curriculum.”

  The Mother Superior laughed.

  “I am so very glad! The Professors you have been studying these extra subjects with are very particular and demanding. As I said to Sister Ignatius only the other day, they are far more trouble than the pupils.”

  Now Venetia laughed.

  “They may well be! But they are so clever and they know so much that I have enjoyed every second of being with them.”

  “I know, and they have enjoyed teaching you. Now go and start packing, my child. I will send Sister Marie Barnard with you as she has more experience in travelling than the majority of the nuns.”

  “I would just love to have her with me. She is a walking mine of information and will doubtless instruct me during the journey. I will now go to pack, but I shall feel, ma’am, like crying because I have to leave you.”

  She did not wait for the Mother Superior to reply, but gave her a little curtsy and left the room.

  The Mother Superior sighed.

  She was very fond of Venetia and she had been a credit to the school, but at the same time she was well aware that Venetia was too old to be shut up with a lot of younger girls.

  She should be taking her place in the Social world that was waiting for her in London.

  Venetia herself, however, was not looking forward to arriving in London.

  She said ‘goodbye’ to Paris as the train carried her and Sister Marie to the English Channel.

  They had a courier to look after them to make sure that Venetia had the best cabin once they reached the ferry.

  He had been wise enough to arrange for them to travel on a ferry to the Tower of London rather than one that berthed at Dover.

  The ferry was somewhat crowded, but the cabin was comfortable enough for her and Sister Marie.

  They arrived in London at ten o’clock the following morning.

  And as soon as they had descended the gangway, Venetia saw one of her father’s servants in the Lynbrook livery waiting for her.

  “It be good to see you back, my Lady,” he said and Venetia smiled at him.

  As he collected all her luggage from the courier, she bade farewell to Sister Marie.

  “It was so kind of you to come with me, Sister. I only wish I was coming back with you. I shall miss you all so much and all my marvellous lessons.”

  “And we shall miss you, but I am sure that now you will shine in the Social world, just as you shone in ours!”

  “I think it most unlikely! Please give my love to everybody and thank you again for bringing me here.”

  She kissed Sister Marie and then, having thanked the courier, she walked away to where her father’s carriage stood waiting.

  She had rather hoped that Papa himself might meet her, but there was nobody else there.

  The luggage was piled on the back of the carriage and the horses moved off.

  As they drove on through the streets, Venetia looked out at the houses, the shops and the people, thinking how different in every way they were from those in France.

  Because her mother was dead and her father was exceedingly busy, she had only come home t
wice in the three years she had been at the Convent school in Paris.

  Being very popular, she had had many invitations to stay with the other girls and she had gone from one grand château to another every holiday.

  Now she was back home and what she was looking forward to more than anything else was the country.

  Riding her father’s superb horses had always been her favourite enjoyment since she was a small child.

  She had not, however, altogether missed her riding in Paris as she had been able to ride three or four times a week in the Bois de Boulogne.

  Equally she told herself as they drew nearer to the house in Berkeley Square, she really loved her home, and she knew that she must persuade her father as soon as possible to take her to the country.

  It was agonising to know that her beloved Mama would not be there and she would miss her in every room and particularly in the flower garden.

  Her Mama, though beautiful, had never been very strong and had died at the beginning of the second year that Venetia was at school.

  It had hurt Venetia more than anything else that she had not been allowed to come home for the funeral.

  She could easily understand that her father had felt that it would be upsetting for her, but at the same time she had wanted to say ‘goodbye’ to her Mama in a way she could not in a foreign land.

  All her fervent prayers in the Convent Chapel were in no way the same as if she had been able to pray in the little village Church where she had been christened and confirmed and had worshipped every Sunday since she was a small child.

  The carriage drew up outside Lynbrook House in Berkeley Square.

  A footman hurriedly pulled a red carpet across the pavement and opened the door of the carriage – he was a man she knew well, who had been with them a long time.

  Venetia smiled at him.

  “It’s so nice to see you, Henry.”

  “You’ve taken the very words out of me mouth, my Lady.”

  Venetia went into the hall and held out her hand to the old grey-haired butler.

  “If you were not here, Bates,” she said, “I should think I had come to the wrong house.”

  “You are a real sight for sore eyes, my Lady. It’s too long since we’ve seen you.”