Seeking Love
SEEKING LOVE
Copyright © 2007 by Cartland Promotions
First published on the internet in September 2007 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.
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SEEKING LOVE
Almost as soon as the lift doors opened, Sir Peter sprang towards her, an expression of rapt appreciation on his face.
“The carriage is waiting,” was all he said, but Marina could tell without his comment that she had made a deep impression upon him.
“Where are we dining?” she asked, as the horses drove along the boulevard.
“A business acquaintance of mine has always recommended this particular restaurant, but this is the first time that I have found someone who deserved to be taken there,” he answered with a charming smile.
Marina could feel his warmth next to her and it made her quite dizzy. She found herself longing to sit even closer to him.
She wondered if he might take her hand as they trotted through Paris and, as he spoke, she watched his lips and wished that he might kiss her.
By the time that they arrived at the restaurant, Marina had the distinct sense of deja-vu. Was it not, on an evening such as this that Simon had sat close to her in a carriage and had eyes only for her? Did she not, in her foolish way, believe that he was about to at least declare his love for her and maybe even propose?
‘Papa was forever telling me that I had a too-vivid imagination,’ she told herself. ‘I do not know where these silly romantic notions come from every time a man pays me some attention, but it is foolhardy of me and immature.’
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.
240 High Road,
Harrow Weald,
Harrow
HA3 7BB
United Kingdom.
Telephone & fax: +44 (0)20 8863 2520
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
25. Love is the Reason for Living
26. They Found Their Way to Heaven
27. Learning to Love
28. Journey to Happiness
29. A Kiss in the Desert
30. The Heart of Love
31. The Richness of Love
32. For Ever and Ever
33. An Unexpected Love
34. Saved by an Angel
35. Touching the Stars
36. Seeking 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.
“I have always advised that everyone in love should
write love letters to each other. Words expressed from the
depths of the heart and soul can be kept, treasured and
enjoyed for ever.”
Barbara Cartland
CHAPTER ONE - 1897
“No, Papa! You cannot mean this!”
Marina Fullerton stood in the drawing room in front of her father with her eyes fast filling with tears. Even though she was trying her best not to show her emotions, she was shaking all over.<
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“My mind is made up, Marina, and I think it will be best for both of us.”
“But to go away from here, so soon after Mama’s funeral. Who will put flowers on her grave each week and tend to it?”
As she looked up at her father, she could see that to argue was futile.
Although only twenty years old, tragedy had already blighted Marina’s life. Six awful weeks earlier, her beloved mother had suddenly been killed in a tragic riding accident.
She had been staying at the country estate belonging to an ageing relative who was ill, when she decided to go out for a ride on an unfamiliar horse. The stable boy had warned her mother that the horse was a trifle feisty, but, being a highly competent rider, she had ignored him.
She had been cantering along a hillside when a sudden shot from a nearby farmer’s gun had alarmed the horse. He bolted and she lost control. She fell off into a ditch as the horse plunged through a hedge.
It was only because one of the ostlers had accompanied her that she was found as soon as she was. Sadly, her neck was broken and she had died instantly.
Marina remembered only too well the day that she had returned from a pleasant afternoon with her friend, Lady Henrietta d’Astuges, to find the servants weeping and the curtains in the drawing room ominously closed.
She had thought she might die from grief and had found no comfort in her father, who had locked himself away until the day of the funeral.
Marina had been forced to carry on and deal with all the arrangements as her father sat in his study and drank heavily.
When he finally emerged, the day before the funeral, he was a changed man.
Although always strict, he now was cold and distant. Every attempt Marina had made to bridge the widening gap between them was rebuffed.
She had never felt so alone in her life – and it was only through the support of her dear friends, Henrietta in particular, that she had kept on going.
And now, only moments earlier, her father had stood there and told her that he could not bear to have her, his only daughter, around the house any longer.
Marina’s heart was breaking as her father turned his back on her and regarded the pale green walls.
She wished fervently that her tears would move him, but it was quite clear that he could not even bear to look at her.
She had often been told that she was the image of her mother and now, it would seem, it was counting against her.
After what seemed like an age, Sir Henry Fullerton turned around and, without meeting her imploring gaze, answered her. His voice was clipped and cold – his ice-blue eyes were without expression or warmth.
“Putting flowers on your Mama’s grave will not bring her back, Marina. No, you must start your life afresh and a stay in France would be most beneficial. You were always weak on languages and now you will have the perfect chance to improve yourself.
“To this end, I have contacted a good family whom I have known for years. Monsieur and Madame Solange have written and expressed their willingness to give you a home for the foreseeable future. You should be grateful for such an opportunity.”
“But, Papa,” implored Marina, falling to her knees, “I do not understand why I cannot stay here with you. Surely you will need me more than ever now that Mama is no longer with us?”
Sir Henry’s expression darkened and Marina realised that she had taken one step too far. If there was one thing her father hated above all else, it was to be challenged once he had made up his mind. His fierce temper was not something she enjoyed provoking.
“Daughter, do you dare to question my wisdom?” he fumed, his words heavy with threat.
Although he had never laid a finger on Marina, she had grown more and more frightened of him and his unpredictable moods during these past few weeks She had seen the way he snapped at the servants – even Frome, their butler, who had been her father’s manservant long before he had married her mother – and how testy he was with Monty, the family dog.
The poor, faithful, flat-coated retriever had found himself totally neglected by his Master and even now, was being walked by Jonas, the footman, as her father appeared to have lost all interest in him.
“No, Papa,” she replied, after a long silence.
“Then, I am glad to hear it. You will leave for France next Friday. I will make all the travel arrangements. Ellen, your maid, will be travelling with you as chaperone. It would not be seemly for a young girl to go alone.”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Very well, I have said all I wanted to. You may go.” Marina slowly rose from the floor, feeling utterly miserable.
She gave her father one last imploring glance, but he would not meet her eye. He stood by the window that looked out over Harley Street and did not turn round.
Sadly, Marina turned the brass beehive handle of the drawing room door and left, her heart breaking all over again.
‘He dismissed me as if I was no more to him than a servant,’ she moaned to herself, as she climbed the stairs up to her room. ‘I do not know what I have done to deserve this.’
Waiting for her in the room was Ellen, who had been her nurse when she was a small child and now that Marina was grown up had stayed with the family, tending to her every need.
Marina was not old enough to have a lady’s maid, but Ellen performed most of the duties that one would have undertaken.
“Miss Marina. You have been crying. What is wrong?”
The motherly maid came rushing up to her as soon as Marina set foot inside the dusty-pink bedroom. Ellen was Irish, through and through, and did not think twice about hugging her young charge.
“Come and sit down on the bed beside me, miss, and tell me what on earth has happened.”
“Oh, Ellen!” cried Marina, bursting into tears again. “Papa has abandoned me!”
“There, there, what nonsense is this? You’ll be missing your Mama, that is all.”
“No, Ellen. Papa does not want me any more. He has told me.”
“Your Papa loves you very much, Miss Marina –”
“Then why is he sending me away to France?”
Ellen pulled away from Marina with a look of horror on her face.
“Surely you are mistaken. Your dear Mama has just left us. Why would he not want you by his side?”
Marina’s slender frame was shaking with sobs, her face wet with tears.
“Nevertheless, it is true. He has just told me that I am to leave next week for the Continent and that you are to accompany me. Has he not told you of his plans?”
It was now Ellen’s turn to look shocked. “No, he has not, Miss Marina.”
“I do not think that Papa can love me anymore, Ellen,”
whispered Marina, her voice choking with emotion. “Nonsense!”
“So why is he sending me away?”
Ellen hugged her once again, a perplexed look on her broad, ruddy face.
“That I don’t know, Miss Marina. But to be sure, he’s not in his right mind, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Could he not have sent me to the country, even? We have many relations in Suffolk and I should not have minded a long stay there. But France! I will not be able to visit Mama’s grave or see my friends. It is as if he is sending me into exile for looking like Mama.”
She began to cry once more.
“Perhaps Papa will change his mind,” she sighed, in between sobs.
“Perhaps he will,” replied Ellen.
But no sooner were the words out of her mouth than Mrs. Baines, the housekeeper, knocked and came into the room.
“Ah, Ellen. There you are. I have come to tell you that you will shortly be leaving for France with Miss Marina. Sir Henry has kindly given you permission to have the afternoon off to go shopping for whatever you will both require for the trip. Frome will give you the money after lunch.”
Silently she left the room with a nod of her head towards Marina.
Marina stared at Ellen, miserably.
�
�So,” breathed Ellen, after digesting what Mrs. Baines had just told her, “your Papa meant what he said after all.”
“I did not doubt it for an instant. Papa is not a man who is prone to flights of fancy.”
“I had better check your travelling clothes at once, miss, and I must make a list of what we will need.”
Turning to look at the photograph of her Mama that stood on the nightstand, Marina wished fervently that she had not died and that she had not been so foolish as to ride such a dangerous horse – ‘Mama! Oh, Mama!’ she wept to herself. ‘Why are you not here – alive and well. You would not have allowed Papa to send me away as if I was a servant.’
*
The next day, Marina’s father called her to his study and informed her that she would be leaving on Sunday.
“You had best say your goodbyes to your friends,” he added, as he handed over the tickets to the boat train, “you will not be seeing them for a long while –”
“Yes, Papa,” muttered Marina, feeling tears beginning to prick at her eyes.
She regarded the tickets in her hand and wished she could fling them into the grate where a small fire burned.
“The Solanges are good people, Marina, and you will enjoy their company. Monsieur Solange is very cultured – you will learn much from him. I trust him implicitly.”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Now, leave me, I have to pay a call on a friend and shall be going out very soon. Do not expect me back for dinner as I shall dine at my Club.”
Marina turned around and left the room, the tickets burning her palm.
She went upstairs and made a list of the people she wanted to see and then crossed off the ones whom she would not have time to visit.
‘Georgiana is at home this afternoon, so I shall call upon her. Lucinda, I can visit tomorrow and Irena on Thursday. That just leaves Henrietta and Albert.’
Marina gazed at her reflection in her dressing table mirror. Her cheeks burned as she thought of her best friend’s brother, Albert. She had long had a soft spot for him and had even fancied herself to be in love with the young man.