Castle of Love Read online

  THE CASTLE OF LOVE

  BARBARA CARTLAND

  Barbaracartland.com Ltd

  Copyright © 2004 by Cartland Promotions

  First published on the internet in November 2004 by

  Barbaracartland.com

  First reprint September 2006

  ISBN 978-1-906950-38-5

  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

  THE CASTLE OF LOVE

  The Earl was silent for a moment.

  “Who knows what will transpire,” he murmured at last. He turned his head away and Jacina realised it was in an attempt to hide a grimace of pain.

  Without thinking, she placed her hand consolingly over his where it lay on the counterpane.

  The Earl started at her touch. Then, slowly, his fingers closed over hers. He turned back to her, his features relaxing. She tried to draw her hand away, but he held it fast. Her heart began to pound as he raised her hand to his lips.

  Jacina felt she would faint with the sensation that swept through her body. If only her hand could remain in his forever! His grasp was so strong! She felt herself drawn closer and closer.

  “Forgive this display of weakness before a trusted friend,” murmured the Earl.

  A trusted friend! That was all she was to the Earl, all she would ever be. Jacina closed her eyes. She reproached herself for imagining even for one second that she could be anything more.

  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 :

  Barbara Cartland.com Ltd.

  Camfield Place,

  Hatfield,

  Hertfordshire AL9 6JE United Kingdom.

  Telephone : +44 (0)1707 642629 Fax : +44 (0)1707 663041

  Titles in this series

  1. The Cross of Love

  2. Love in the Highlands

  3. Love Finds the Way

  4. The Castle of Love

  5. Love is Triumphant

  6. Stars in the Sky

  7. The ship of love

  8. A Dangerous Disguise

  9. Love became theirs

  10. Love drives in

  11. Sailing to Love

  12. The Star of Love

  13. Music is the soul of Love

  14. Love in the East

  15. Theirs to Eternity

  16. A Paradise on Earth

  17. Love Wins in Berlin

  18. In Search of Love

  19. Love Rescues Rosanna

  20. A Heart in Heaven

  21. The House of Happiness

  22. Royalty Defeated by Love

  23. The White Witch

  24. They Sought Love

  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.

  "Nothing in the world can ever equal love."

  Barbara Cartland

  CHAPTER ONE

  1857

  The Star of India was sailing towards the coast of England.

  Hugo, Earl of Ruven stood alone on deck. He was enjoying the sound of the sails flapping in the breeze and the fresh, salty air. His cabin was comfortable but very small. In sultry weather such as they had been having for the last few days, it became unbearably stuffy.

  The sea breeze ruffled his thick, black hair.

  Other passengers strolling along the deck, especially the ladies, turned to look at him as they passed.

  He was a very handsome man. Tall and lean, his strong features were dark from his ten years in India. He had been an officer there with the Ninth regiment of foot.

  Now he was sailing home to England.

  The ladies longed to chat with him, but they had learned that the Earl liked to keep himself to himself. He had spoken to hardly anyone during the entire voyage, taking his meals in his cabin and only venturing on deck when there were few other passengers about. Only his valet had been allowed to attend him.

  “They say, Georgina, that we shall see the coast of
England at any moment,” said one of the ladies, ruefully eyeing the Earl’s handsome figure as she sauntered by.

  “That may be, Laetitia,” replied her friend, “but let us hope the weather holds. I do not like the look of those dark clouds.”

  Laetitia lingered a moment and then turned back to the Earl. She was feeling a little more intrepid than usual today.

  “Do you think, sir, there will be a storm before we reach England?” she asked.

  The Earl did not even turn. He disliked the artificial tone of her voice. He had known so many ladies like her in India, officers’ wives whose chief source of entertainment was gossip.

  “I am not an oracle, madam,” he said stiffly. “But the swell is certainly getting stronger.”

  “Well!” said Laetitia. She flounced off back to her companion. “Let us go to the other deck and find some congenial company!”

  The Earl’s lips tightened wryly but he kept his face turned towards the sea. The ship was beginning to pitch more steeply. Waves smacked loudly against the bows. He wondered if there would indeed be a storm before they reached England.

  He leaned over the handrail and sighed.

  His arrival in England would be a lonely one. His parents had died when he was a boy. They had been on a grand tour of Europe and had reached Naples when a typhoid epidemic broke out. They had succumbed to the disease within days of each other. Even as a boy Hugo had known that neither would have wanted to go on living without the other.

  Hugo and his elder brother Crispian were at that time staying with their widowed grandfather, the old Earl, at Castle Ruven.

  Crispian was now heir to the title.

  The two boys, once they had recovered from the loss of their parents, enjoyed a happy childhood. Their grandfather was gruff but kind and indulgent. The boys slept in the nursery with their Nanny Sarah. She would scold them mercilessly but they knew how to twist her round their little fingers.

  The brothers had no other playmates but each other and consequently they were very close. They played hide and seek all over the castle and roamed the surrounding woods in the summer. Although he was the younger, Hugo was always the leader. Crispian was timid and introvert. It was Hugo who made him climb trees, swim in the swift flowing river, explore the local caves. When they were sent away to school, Hugo often had to protect the shy Crispian from bullies.

  As the younger brother, Hugo needed a career. When the time came, his grandfather suggested the Army. Hugo was happy with this idea. He was interested in travel, seeing the far-flung places of the world. So he became an officer with the Ninth regiment of foot and at twenty years of age set off for India.

  It was the last time he saw his brother.

  The Earl felt the ship rise steeply beneath him and then plummet into the waves. Spray lashed his face. There was a voice at his elbow. It was one of the crew.

  “Beg pardon, my Lord. The Captain says you might think of coming below. Them clouds are nearly on us and the wind is getting up something fierce.”

  The Earl nodded. “Thank you. I will follow you down in a moment.”

  The crewman left. The Earl steadied himself on the rail and listened to the wind whistling through the masthead. The mournful sound seemed to echo his thoughts.

  Why, when war broke out in the Crimea, had his usually timid brother insisted on doing his duty and joining the Army? The old Earl was terribly reluctant to let his elder grandson go, but Crispian was for once very determined. In the end and to his eternal regret, the old Earl agreed.

  In January 1856, in the last months of the conflict, Crispian died of cholera. Hugo was heartbroken.

  His grandfather wanted him home immediately but Hugo was not able to resign his commission until the following year. Then, shortly before he was due to leave, the Indian Mutiny broke out and Hugo was obliged to remain at his post.

  Now the old Earl had died and Hugo had inherited the title and castle of Ruven.

  He had also inherited Felice Delisle.

  The Earl stiffened as he recognised unwelcome voices approaching. Laetitia and Georgina were returning, in the company of a young gentleman they had encountered on their tour of the decks.

  Laetitia gave a shriek as the rising wind threatened to remove her bonnet from her head.

  “Oh, Lord,” cried the young gentleman, “do hang on there! I do not fancy leaping into those waves to retrieve your bonnet, pretty as it is.”

  Laetitia laughed gaily and very loudly, partly for the benefit of the Earl.

  “Oh, I should not expect it at all. But you are most courteous to even consider it, to be sure! And I do so admire courtesy in a gentleman.”

  “Should we not go below now?” came Georgina’s anxious voice. “That sailor said we should. And I am beginning to feel a trifle – queasy.”

  “Oh, if you wish,” replied Laetitia. She threw a glance at the Earl. She was determined to impress him one way or another. “But I am not at all worried by the weather. I find it rather exciting!”

  The Earl did not turn his head. He was too used to women who tried earnestly to attract his attention. There had, after all, been plenty of them, amongst the officers’ daughters in India, and sometimes even amongst their wives.

  “Is that not the Earl of Ruven at the handrail?” asked the young gentleman.

  “Yes it is,” said Laetitia. She grabbed the young man’s arm as the ship heaved into the face of a huge wave.

  “Handsome fellow!” said the young man.

  “Yes,” said Laetitia sullenly. She was piqued at the Earl’s evident disregard for her.

  At that moment Georgina gave a great cry. “The coast of England! I am sure it is. There, to the North.”

  Georgina and her companions rushed to the bows for a sight of England.

  The Earl lifted his head high. He appeared to be scanning the horizon. Nobody noticed the bitter smile on his lips.

  He would have dearly liked to be able to catch a glimpse of his native country. But this was denied to him.

  In one of the early battles of the Indian Mutiny he had been seriously wounded.

  Hugo, the handsome new Earl of Ruven, was returning home blind.

  *

  Castle Ruven was an imposing sight. It dominated the surrounding woods and crags that characterised the countryside of the far North of England. The castle was constructed of grey stone, much of it overgrown with ivy. A stone bridge arched over the surrounding moat.

  The bridge did not lead directly into the castle but into an area that had been cultivated as a garden. A white driveway ran over the bridge, through the garden and up to the wide entrance steps of the castle. Inside, the castle boasted a Great Hall with a minstrel’s gallery.

  The Great Hall was also the main entrance to the castle.

  It was here that Doctor Carlton and his daughter Jacina stood a few days later, having just arrived at the castle in their pony and gig.

  Jacina gazed round the Great Hall with admiration as she removed her bonnet. She loved the cool stone floor and the oak panelling, polished until it gleamed. She was fascinated by the family portraits that adorned the walls.

  Jacina knew the castle well. She often accompanied her father on his visits here.

  Her father was the Ruven family doctor. He had become a good friend of the old Earl and spent many an evening playing cards with him over a decanter of port. The old Earl had trusted the doctor so much he had made him the executor of his will.

  “Shall I take your hat too, Doctor Carlton?” asked the maid who had answered the door.

  “Why, thank you, Nancy,” said Doctor Carlton. “I expect you are all very busy here this morning! Is that why Jarrold did not answer the door as usual?”

  Jarrold was the butler.

  “Yes sir, that’s why,” replied Nancy. “The new Master is expected around noon. Jarrold is upstairs overseeing the preparation of his private rooms. It was thought best to move some of the furniture out so it wouldn’t be in the way. Seeing as the new
Master is – is –”

  Nancy could not go on and burst into tears.

  “Now, now,” said the doctor, patting her arm kindly.

  “But it’s all so dreadful, sir,” wailed Nancy. “Poor Master Crispian dying out in the Crimea last year. Then the old Earl dying this February, with Master Hugo so far away. And then news that Master Hugo is – is –”

  Nancy still could not bring herself to say the word ‘blind’.

  “Nancy,” said Doctor Carlton, “you must keep up a cheerful spirit. It will not do for the new Earl to return to a gloomy household, will it?”

  Nancy shook her head and sniffed away her tears, “No, sir.” She took Jacina’s bonnet and the doctor’s hat and gloves. “Shall you go through to wait in the library, sir?”

  “Indeed I shall. Would you order some tea for me?”

  “Yes, sir. And Miss Jacina?”

  “Thank you, not for me,” said Jacina.

  Nancy curtsied and hurried off.

  The doctor turned to his daughter. “I expect you are away on your usual social round, Jacina?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “Good, good,” said the doctor. “Well, you know where to find me.”

  Doctor Carlton marched off in the direction of the library.

  Jacina watched her father thoughtfully until he was out of sight. She knew he was more disturbed by what had happened to Hugo Ruven than he revealed.

  Turning to go her eye settled on a particular portrait that hung over the stone fireplace. She walked over and stood for a moment gazing up at it.

  She knew this portrait well. It depicted the two grandsons of the old Earl, painted when they were in their late boyhood. Crispian was seated. Hugo leaned over the back of the chair. Crispian was pale and thin, with mournful eyes. Hugo gazed out forcefully from under his black brows. He looked strong and confident.

  Jacina had met Hugo only once in her life. It was when she was eight years old and her father was attending the old Earl – who suffered from gout – for the very first time.