They Touched Heaven Read online

  THEY TOUCHED HEAVEN

  BARBARA CARTLAND

  www.barbaracartland.com

  Copyright © 2012 by Cartland Promotions

  First published on the internet in May 2012 by Barbaracartland.com

  ISBNs

  978-1-78213-181-6 - Epub

  978-1-78213-182-3 - Kindle

  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

  THEY TOUCHED HEAVEN

  The Earl of Wentworth has a fiery and unpredictable temper and is about to fight a duel in Hyde Park with a Frenchman who has insulted him, when he is restrained by his friend, Sir Thomas Babbington, and a helpful Policeman.

  At the same time the beautiful Temia Brandon is returning home from her Finishing School in France and is longing to see her horse, Lightning, again.

  Temia discovers that her father has been hiding a dark secret for many years and is now being blackmailed by the odious Lord Alphonse who threatens to reveal the secret and ruin the family’s reputation.

  Lord Alphonse next proposes to Temia with her father’s approval and she has no alternative but to run away from her home in Northamptonshire to the bright lights of London.

  Through a strange set of coincidences Temia’s and the Earl of Wentworth’s paths cross and then Sir Thomas Babbington unexpectedly falls in love with her.

  Temia’s strong character and resolve are tested to the extreme and she is buffeted from pillar to post.

  How Temia helps defeat Lord Alphonse and despite endless dramas eventually find happiness with the one man she really loves and who loves her is told in this intriguing and fast-moving tale by BARBARA CARTLAND.

  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 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 ‘Jigsa
w’ 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.

  “Everything and anything is possible when you are in love – even touching Heaven. I should know because I have touched Heaven too.”

  Barbara Cartland

  CHAPTER ONE

  1860

  “You will take that back at once, de Lamerie!”

  The Earl of Wentworth glowered across the green card table as he slammed down his glass of brandy on the rosewood surface.

  The Frenchman stayed impassive. He was a proud scion of ancient noble Huguenot blood whose family had not escaped the tyranny of a Catholic France to be dictated to by a mere English Lord.

  He merely shrugged his shoulders in an irritating fashion and pursed his lips.

  “I will not – it is very clear to me that these cards are marked,” he answered sardonically.

  The Earl’s handsome face grew crimson under his black hair and his dark eyes flashed dangerously.

  On the other side of the table, his best friend, Sir Thomas Babbington set down his cards and spoke softly,

  “Come now, Wentworth. There has obviously been some misunderstanding. I think all the Comte is trying to say is that he would like a new deck.”

  He laid his hand on the Earl’s arm to restrain him as he could see that his friend’s temper was near to flashpoint. The Earl was as fiery as Sir Thomas was placid and they compensated for each other’s shortcomings.

  What the Earl lacked in restraint, he made up for in artistic ability. His paintings were lauded everywhere and he wrote sensitive and thoughtful verse. “Oh, you Englishmen, you cannot shoulder a mere criticism without taking offence!” spat Comte de Lamerie, dismissively. “It’s I who should be upset – you are clearly cheating and then you attempt to put the blame on me!”

  The Earl arose like a striking python from his chair, as Sir Thomas tried at once to diffuse the situation.

  “Come, gentlemen. Let’s leave the game and have another drink. There’s a fine Armagnac we’ve yet to try.”

  The Comte’s face took on a sour expression.

  “You are asking me to back down? Pah! Never!”

  He slumped back in his chair and clutched his cards close to his chest, muttering something in French under his breath that the Earl evidently understood.

  “Take that back, you blasted Frenchie!” he shouted. “I didn’t spend a year in France to be oblivious to your tawdry insults!”

  “Then it’s a great pity you did not learn more from us,” drawled the Comte, “where are your famous English manners and sense of fair play?”

  That was enough to incense the Earl, as he leapt over the table and grabbed the Comte by his cravat.

  “You damned Frenchie dog!” he howled, his eyes level with the Comte’s.

  “Wentworth! Please!” pleaded Sir Thomas. “He has – insulted me for the last time!” choked the Comte, attempting to prise the Earl’s vice-like grip away from his neck. “Richard!” Sir Thomas was beside himself. He had often seen his friend lose his temper and, since his father had died last year, he had been even more volatile than ever.

  The Earl’s hands were curiously large and square, not at all the hands of a gentleman and they would not have disgraced a field labourer.

  Sir Thomas knew that he was strong enough to kill the effete Comte with them and was terrified that one day it might happen.

  Spluttering, the Comte regained his composure and drew himself up to his full height of five foot seven. “Sir, I challenge you to a duel! We shall settle this in the French manner – with swords!”

  “As you wish!” muttered the Earl in a tone that was truly bloodcurdling.

  The Comte rose from his chair and then ordered the waiter to bring their cloaks.

  *

  An hour later the two men stood facing each other in the depths of Hyde Park. The Comte had sent his manservant to his house for swords, but he had returned with two pistols. He then furiously flew into a long stream of angry French while the Earl and Sir Thomas looked on.

  “You have the advantage, Wentworth,” whispered Sir Thomas. “He is notoriously near-sighted and couldn’t hit a bull chained to a tree!”

  “I will kill the blighter,” fumed the Earl, clenching and unclenching his fists. He had stripped down to his shirt and, in his haste, had ripped off the top few buttons. His breast heaved as he tried to steady his nerves. He knew that a shaking hand was as good as signing his own death warrant.

  The Comte stood in his shirtsleeves, examining his pistol and was weighing it in his hand when a shout came up from some nearby bushes.

  “Stop!”

  Both men froze as they saw a Policeman coming towards them.

  “Stop!” he shouted again. The Comte thrust his pistol into his waistcoat just before the Policeman drew level with them.

  “Sir?” he began, looking straight at the Comte.

  “Je ne parle pas anglais,” he sneered.

  “Officer, perhaps I can explain,” said Sir Thomas, coming forward and quickly handing the Earl his cloak so that he could conceal the pistol.

  “It was a quarrel over nothing and it has now been settled. We will be on our way at once.”

  “Just a moment Mr. – ”

  “Sir Thomas Babbington.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to report the incident.”

  “Surely, there is no need for that? It was a private matter – amongst gentlemen.”

  The Policeman stared at him and then at the Earl.

  “You know the law, sir. Duels is strictly forbidden. Her Majesty saw to that twenty years ago!”

  “Officer, there was no duel. These gentlemen were merely having a difference of opinion.”

  “And you assure me, sir, you will take your friend home right now?”

  “At once.”

  “Then, I’ll bid you goodnight, sir, but you mark my words, if I catch you in the Park again with pistols, then I’ll have no alternative but to arrest you all, whoever you be.”

  “Thanks, good night, Officer. Let’s go, Richard.”

  The Earl threw the Comte a hate-filled look and wrapped himself in his cloak. As he turned to leave, the Comte muttered,

  “Lâche!” just loud enough for him to hear.

  “Go to hell!” answered the Earl, bridling with fury.

  It was only the firm touch of his friend on his arm that restrained him.

  “You should not rise to every insult that’s thrown your way,” advised Sir Thomas, as they ran to their waiting carriage. “It’s imperative that you control your temper, Richard. One day it will prove your undoing. We are very lucky that the Officer stopped us and l
et us off with a caution as it could have gone badly for you otherwise.”

  “I have faith enough in my own ability to shoot to kill, Thomas,” he answered, glowering darkly.

  “And too much confidence in the lack of ability on the Comte’s part. He may yet have surprised us and I don’t want your mother grieving over your corpse!”

  Climbing in and throwing his athletic frame into the seat, the Earl turned his face to the window as the carriage sped off into the night. “I should have killed the bounder,” he muttered, as they made their way through the damp streets of Mayfair. “And I will, if he ever crosses my path again!”

  *

  On the dark Southern approach road into London, a solitary carriage made its way towards the Capital. Inside a very tired Temia Brandon and her mother, Lady Brandon, were sleeping.

  Temia had spent the last few years at a Finishing School in Paris and had now returned that very day.

  Her mother had been forced to meet her from the ferry alone, as her husband, Sir Arthur Brandon, was busy with his horses. The stables at Bovendon Hall were justly famous and people came from far and wide to buy the handsome animals bred there.

  Lady Brandon had waited for hours for the ferry to dock, and, when it did, she hardly recognised the elegant young lady who walked down the gangplank towards her.

  “Temia! Is that really you?” she called, marvelling at her daughter’s sophisticated hairstyle and clothes. “Mama!” she exclaimed, hurrying towards her.

  Lady Brandon embraced Temia and kissed her soft cheek. She smelled as delicious as she looked – a faint odour of vervain and rose wafted from her.

  “My darling. Welcome home!”

  “Where is Papa? Is he with the horses?”

  Lady Brandon laughed, almost girlishly.

  “Naturally. I need never worry about your father straying very far from home – no, my only rivals for his affections have four legs and not two!”

  “Oh, Mama! I have had such a wonderful time in France. I almost feel more French than English.”

  “You must not let your father hear you say that, dearest. He is so proud to be British and a subject of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria.”