This Way to Heaven Read online

  THIS WAY TO HEAVEN

  Jasmina laughed loudly as she struggled to control Lightning as he skittered across the path, tossing his head and chomping on his bit.

  Lightning was certainly a marvellous ride, fast and strong.

  Then the stupid stallion had spooked when a small rabbit ran across his path.

  Just as she had been about to get Lightning under control, a great black and silver car came roaring round the bend and it took all her skill as a rider to stop her mount from bolting.

  She was still struggling to quieten him when a man jumped out of the car, shouting at her, his face dark with anger and grabbed hold of the bridle.

  “You little fool! Who on earth put you up on such a powerful animal? Get down at once!”

  Jasmina gathered the reins tightly in her hands and tugged the bridle away from the dark-haired stranger who was glaring up at her in a passion of fury.

  “Please stop shouting at me! You are only making the horse more anxious.”

  “Why, you’re an American!”

  THIS WAY TO HEAVEN

  BARBARA CARTLAND

  Barbaracartland.com Ltd

  © 2008 by Cartland Promotions First published on the internet in November 2008 by Barbaracartland.com

  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.

  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  Her publishers finally could not keep up with this phenomenal output, so at her death she left 160 unpublished manuscripts, something again that no other author has ever achieved.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 already being published and by Barbaracartland.com exclusively on the internet, as the international web is the best possible way of reaching so many Barbara Cartland readers around the world.

  The 160 books are 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.

  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

  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.

  “We all seek Heaven and some of us are lucky enough to find it, but the only way to reach Heaven is through Love, which is the closest man can ever get to God.”

  Barbara Cartland

  CHAPTER ONE

  1908

  “Oh dear, Jasmina, I do feel so dreadful leaving you in such a fashion!”

  Margaret, the Duchess of Harley, stood at the top of the long flight of stone steps that led from the great door of Harley Court down to the wide gravel driveway that circled a vast ornate fountain.

  A brisk November wind was tearing the remaining yellow and bronze leaves from the avenue of fine oaks that bordered the drive all the way towards the great ornamental gates at the far end.

  Beyond the gates was the road
that led through the woods and up into the hills towards the pass through to the town of Debbingford in the next valley.

  In the other direction the hills rose up one after the other until they reached the wild heather covered Yorkshire moors.

  The Duchess was a short plump lady wrapped in layers of heavy winter clothes and wearing a huge hat tied under her chin with a silk scarf.

  To an onlooker she appeared almost a comical little figure, looking almost as wide as she was tall.

  Now as she gazed up at the tall slender American girl standing next to her there was a worried expression on her kind face.

  “Are you sure you would not be better coming with me to London?”

  Jasmina Winfield smiled down at her distant cousin with real affection.

  “Now, Aunt Margaret, we have discussed this many times. You are greatly needed in London and as I have already seen something of that wonderful City, I am to go to my mother’s cousins at the Parsonage in Debbingford for a few weeks and experience a real English Christmas.”

  The Duchess clutched at her long floating scarf that was in danger of being blown away. She wrapped it firmly round her neck and wished not for the first time that day that Albert, her husband the Duke, was not so far away on business in Scotland.

  Their only daughter, Hope, was married to the Earl of Leyton and news had arrived the night before to Harley Grange that the infant heir to the Earldom had been born into this world three weeks early.

  The Duchess was desperate to travel to London to be at her daughter’s bedside.

  But to add to her worries she had a houseguest – an American relation, Jasmina Winfield, and she was concerned about what was to become of her.

  They had only been at home in Yorkshire for three days after a few weeks at their London house before the baby made his unexpected entrance and now her attentions were needed elsewhere.

  As a good hostess she felt dreadful, Jasmina knew no one in the area and there had been no time for introductions.

  She sighed.

  The Duchess had been hesitating on the steps for a good ten minutes now and she could see that the chauffeur was growing restless.

  The luggage had been loaded into the Rolls Royce and her cousin’s maid was standing shivering by the side of the car.

  “Aunt Margaret,” declared Jasmina firmly, placing a gentle hand under her arm and escorting her slowly down the stone steps. “It is much too cold a day for you to stand outside. If you catch a chill, you will not be able to help Hope with her darling little boy.”

  “Oh dear, oh dear, yes, well, if you are quite sure. Now, do be very careful on your journey when you leave, Jasmina. The roads are so treacherous at this time of year.”

  Jasmina smiled.

  She was from a part of America – Missouri, where the winters were always terribly hard. She was very used to low temperatures and thick snowfalls.

  By comparison Northern England in the month of November had seemed very tame.

  “I shall be most careful, do not fear. Now, off you go, Aunt Margaret. Give my love to Hope and write to me at my cousin’s address with all the news.”

  The Duchess hesitated a few seconds longer. She was still feeling uneasy.

  This young American cousin was so different from the English girls of her age.

  Jasmina was extremely independent and held some determined views. She had shocked some of the Duchess’s elderly friends with her outspoken comments about politics and how to cure poverty in the most destitute areas of big Cities.

  The Duchess sighed loudly as she took her seat in the Rolls. She was more than certain that America was a fine place, but it did seem to breed a very headstrong type of young woman!

  At long last the car drove away down the drive, the Duchess waving her handkerchief from the window until it passed out of sight.

  Jasmina looked relieved.

  She was extremely fond of the lady she called Aunt Margaret, although she was not really her aunt, of course, but a distant cousin on her father’s side.

  Jasmina was born and bred in America, but all her life she had longed to visit England. She had read every book and travel guide she could find and asked her long-suffering parents many questions about their family in that distant country.

  At long last when she reached the age of twenty-one, her father had given in to her pestering and arranged for her to cross the Atlantic to stay with his relations, the Duke and Duchess of Harley and their family.

  To Jasmina, tall and fair, with sparkling blue eyes and a determined expression, London had been everything she had ever imagined.

  She had enjoyed the shops, the ancient buildings, the parties and balls. She had loved visiting the historical places she had only read about, learning the manners and traditions of a different world.

  But it was not until she travelled up to the family’s ancestral home in Yorkshire on the edge of the moors that she felt her spirits lift with unexpected joy.

  Jasmina had never seen such beautiful countryside and she knew with all her soul that even when she returned home, part of her heart would stay here.

  Now she ran nimbly up the stone steps and into the huge echoing hall with its superb black and white marble floor and graceful Grecian statues brought back to England by one of the Duke’s ancestors.

  She would be very sad to leave Harley Grange, but was sensible enough to know it would be inadvisable to stay there on her own.

  Back home in Missouri she would not have given it another thought. But even though they were now in a new century, Jasmina was aware that many of her family’s acquaintances still adhered to the old ways of manners and decorum.

  So she would depart for the Parsonage to the other cousins who lived in the village of Debbingford twenty miles away in the next valley.

  She had assured Aunt Margaret that she would be perfectly safe travelling there on her own.

  ‘Goodness’, she thought to herself, ‘at home in Missouri most friends live more than twenty miles away and I often went to their houses just for lunch or an afternoon visit!’

  “Miss Winfield – ”

  It was Reid, the elderly butler.

  “Yes, Reid. Can I help you?”

  “Just to inform you, miss, that the horse His Grace purchased recently has just arrived. It has been stabled and cared for, but I thought it best that you knew.”

  “Oh, yes, Reid. Thank you! The Duke told me in London before he left for Scotland that this is the mount he wants me to ride while I was here at Harley Grange.

  “It is vastly annoying that the dealer has delayed in sending the animal. I am so looking forward to seeing him. I must go down to the stables. Perhaps I could take him out for just a short ride before I leave.”

  Reid’s mouth tightened.

  This young American lady was certainly pleasant, but surely she should know that it was not suitable for her to ride around the countryside on a strange horse. Well, maybe in America things were handled differently, but this was Harley Grange in England.

  “Perhaps it would not be advisable, Miss Winfield. The Head Groom is away on estate business and I believe the animal is extremely highly strung.”

  Jasmina was about to inform the butler that she had been riding since she was three and could handle any horse given her.

  But she hesitated, as she was well aware that there were differences in the way Society worked over here in England and although it was irritating, well, there was no reason to antagonise the staff.

  No, what the eye did not see, the heart would not grieve over – that was what her old Nanny would have said and at the moment Jasmina thought this was very good advice.

  She ran up to her room and began to sort out the clothes she would need for the following day.

  Because she had just had the most marvellous idea – a wonderful plan.

  She would ride the new horse across country to her cousins in Debbingford!

  She knew these cousins were not as wealthy as the Duke and
Duchess and so she was not sure if they would have a mount for her. It seemed such a shame to leave the animal in the stables when he had been purchased just for her.

  The casement window now rattled violently and she hurried across to close it.

  Gazing out she could see on a far distant hill the brooding turreted outline of Somerton Castle.

  Jasmina realised that the immense Somerton estate bordered on the Duke’s land and was intrigued by the story the Duchess had told her over supper the night before.

  “Oh, my dear, it is so sad. Richard, the present Earl of Somerton, is a tragic figure. A real recluse. He sees no one!”

  Jasmina had gazed at the Duchess across the candle flames, her sapphire eyes sparkling.

  “No one at all? My word, what would he do if you called?”

  “I would be told firmly that he is not at home. My dear Albert meets him occasionally on estate business and I believe he undertakes various work for the Government so he does travel down to London. But apart from that he never appears in Society.”

  “But why? Is he perhaps – ” Jasmina hesitated, searching for the right words, “disfigured in some way?”

  “Oh, no, my dear, Richard was always the best-looking young man and even now at thirty he is most distinguished. But – ” she leant dramatically across the table – “he lost Millicent, his wife, two years ago in a tragic accident. Dreadful. She was so young, so pretty. He has never been the same since.”