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Love In the East




  LOVE IN THE EAST

  And then he was kissing her. His lips were on hers, caressing them fiercely yet with passionate tenderness.

  For a moment she was too startled to react. Then alarm and agitation surged through her. She must stop this happening.

  But at the same moment she knew that she did not want him to stop.

  The feel of his mouth against hers was thrilling. No man had ever kissed her and the sensation was astounding.

  The steely clasp of his arms about her, his warm, mobile mouth caressing hers, his spicy, masculine scent, all these things fired her with a feeling she unwillingly recognised as desire.

  It was shocking, improper, shameless.

  It was thrilling, wonderful.

  Scarcely knowing what she was doing, she relaxed in his arms, feeling the heat of his body through her thin nightgown. She was dizzy and exhilarated, craving for his kisses to last for ever even while she knew that she must be strong and call a halt.

  LOVE IN THE EAST

  BARBARA CARTLAND

  Copyright © 2005 by Cartland Promotions

  First published on the internet in 2005 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.

  eBook conversion by M-Y Books

  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  Her publishers finally could not keep up with this phenomenal output, so at her death she left 160 unpublished manuscripts, something again that no other author has ever achieved.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

  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

  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.

  “Love never dies, it does not even fade away.”

  Barbara Cartland

  CHAPTER ONE

  -

  1876

  As Shona Winterton arrived back at her family house in Park Lane, she wondered how she could bear to enter.

  Once it had been such a happy home. Now it felt more like a prison.

  As she stepped down from her carriage, the butler pulled the front door open and greeted her with a smile.

  “I am glad to see you back, miss. We’ve missed you while you have been away.”

  “Thank you Hoskins. Is my mother well?”

  “Her Ladyship has been rather tired recently. She is lying down at the moment, but I know she will be delighted to see you.”

  Shona smiled at him.

  Hoskins had been the butler at her parents’ house for fifteen years. She knew he would do everything in his power to help her, should she need it.

  As she walked upstairs she was thinking that the day might come, quite soon, when his help would be exactly what she needed.

  Things would be so different if only her father was still alive.

  He had been a quiet man, who loved his books and literature, as well as speaking several languages. He had no time for the notion that girls should not seem too intelligent, lest they damage their marriage chances. He was proud of Shona’s brains and tried to teach her everything he knew.

  He had loved to travel and had taken his wife and daughter abroad at every opportunity. How delightful those trips had been.

  But three years ago he had suffered a heart attack and died almost immediately.

  Shona and her mother had mourned him, but after eighteen months her mother had re-married, and Shona had known then that this would never be a happy home to her again
.

  Her step-father, Colonel Lockwood, was a loudmouthed man with a coarse laugh, as different from her intellectual father as one man could be from another.

  Outside her mother’s door Shona paused and spoke to her maid who had travelled with her.

  “Go ahead and run me a bath, Effie. I must see my mother first.”

  Effie hurried on down the corridor, while Shona knocked on her mother’s door and received a faint,

  “Come in.”

  Putting her head round the door, she saw Lady Helen sitting up in bed in a frothy bed jacket. Her face was pale and delicate.

  At the age of fifty she had assumed the demeanour of a permanent invalid, which Shona attributed to the strain of living with her second husband.

  Not that Lady Helen ever openly criticised him. To do so would mean admitting that she had been foolish to marry him, and might ruin the façade of marital bliss she seemed determined to maintain.

  So she dealt with the problem the only way she knew, by escaping it whenever she could.

  Shona knew that her mother loved her. But she also knew that in any battle with her step-father, she could expect no help from her.

  Now her face brightened at the sight of her daughter and she opened her arms in welcome.

  “Shona, darling! At last you are here.”

  There was something slightly exaggerated about her effusiveness that made Shona’s heart sink. It was clear that her mother was very relieved to see her and that told her that her worst fears were about to be realised.

  “My dear child,” Lady Helen said, “did you enjoy your visit to the Donworths?”

  “Very much Mama. They are such charming people and their house is always full of fun. There were parties and dancing every night. I am quite worn out!”

  Lady Helen smiled at this tale of gaiety.

  In her youth she had loved nothing better than a party. Night after night she would be out dancing, the belle of the ball, flirting with one young man after another, until she had met the man of her dreams and married him.

  She was still pretty in a fragile manner. The likeness between herself and her daughter was astonishing. They had the same soft, light brown hair, the same large blue eyes and delicate features.

  But Shona’s face had a decisiveness that her mother’s lacked. Her chin, although elegant, was strong, almost stubborn. Her mouth was full and beautiful, but also firm.

  Shona Winterton would never allow herself to be ordered about, but there were those who had yet to learn that lesson. Her step-father was one of them.

  “I am so glad you enjoyed yourself,” Lady Helen said now.

  “I would have remained longer,” Shona said, “except that Step-Papa wrote to me – ”

  “Oh my dear, why do you call him that? I am sure he would like you to call him Papa.”

  “I cannot do that,” Shona said quietly. “Papa is dead, and I will not give his name to anyone else.”

  Lady Helen sighed.

  “I wish you would be a little less obstinate, darling child. Colonel Lockwood is a good man and he devotes himself to your interests.”

  “No really, Mama, that is too much to ask me to believe. He is not devoted to my interests. Only his own. And I am not even sure that he’s a good – ”

  “Hush!” Lady Helen gave a little shriek. “What a terrible thing to say?”

  “I am sorry, Mama,” Shona said patiently.

  She knew it was useless trying to tell unpleasant facts to her mother, who would simply shut her eyes to the truth.

  Nonetheless, she had one more try.

  “The Colonel wants to be connected with a title,” she said. “And he is trying to do it through me.”

  “Oh, nonsense – ”

  “It isn’t nonsense, Mama. Why do you think I came home early? Step-Papa wrote to me, telling me to come back to London, because he has invited ‘some charming people’ who want to meet me. He particularly named the Earl of Harrington.”

  “Well – he is a charming man,” her mother said, speaking in a faltering tone, because the angry glint in Shona’s eyes alarmed her.

  “No, Mama, he is not a charming man. He is coarse, vulgar and he drinks too much. Step-Papa wants me to marry him because he is rich and titled. He will do anything to see me married to an Earl.

  “I don’t think Lord Harrington ever thought of me until Step-Papa started throwing me at him. And I would not marry him if he was the last man on earth.”

  “Oh my dearest, you really must not be so positive. It is most unladylike.”

  “If I am not positive they will have me dragged up the aisle before I know it,” Shona replied. “Mama, why do you think I went to visit the Donworths? Because they live in Essex, a nice safe distance from London. Free, I thought, of Step-Papa pestering me about Harrington.

  “Not so, apparently. He demands my attendance at this dinner tomorrow. So I returned to confront him and tell him to stop.”

  Lady Helen gave a little scream.

  “Oh, you must not be impolite to your father.”

  “Step-father,” Shona said implacably. “He is not and never will be my father. Now, Mama, I must go upstairs and change.”

  She kissed her mother and vanished.

  In her room she found Effie, unpacking and preparing a bath for her.

  Effie was in her mid-twenties and had been Shona’s maid since she was fifteen. The two young women were good friends.

  “There are so many invitations for you, miss,” Effie said. “Look at these.”

  Shona ran through them, noticing that there was one for that very evening, to a dance at Gresham House, home of the Duke and Duchess of Gresham, of whom she was rather fond.

  ‘But it’s too late for me to accept now,’ she thought reluctantly.

  As she bathed she thought over her situation and in particular her unpleasant step-father.

  ‘If only,’ she thought, ‘Mama had not married him. I suppose I cannot blame her. She was lonely after Papa died. But why this man of all men?’

  She could have thought of at least a dozen men who, in her opinion, would have been more appropriate than Colonel Lockwood.

  But had she chosen him? Or had he set his sights on her?

  From the first moment he had entered her home, Shona had suspected that Colonel Lockwood had personal reasons for being there. He was too complimentary in every way to her mother.

  Shona had known, although she hated to acknowledge it, that it was only a question of time before he would ask her mother to marry him and her mother would accept.

  She had to admit that he behaved nicely enough to her mother, at least during their courtship. He could be charming when he set his mind to it, but Shona soon decided that he was an adventurer with his eyes on her mother’s money and her place in Society.

  He was a man she could never like or trust.

  Once the marriage had taken place she realised that he thought she was an encumbrance. He wanted the house in London and the one in the country, to himself.

  And he soon decided that the best way to achieve his aim would be to marry her off, preferably to a man of rank and thus elevate himself.

  Shona’s father had been the son of a General who had made his reputation on the battlefield but had never risen higher socially. But her mother, Lady Helen, was the daughter of an Earl.

  ‘That was why he really wanted her,’ Shona thought. ‘He is a snob and will always be one.’

  He had insisted on using his new wife to bludgeon his way into society as far as he could. Which was not very far.

  His problem was that no man of taste and culture wanted to know him. So he had to fall back on the company of men who, although aristocrats, could hardly be described as gentlemen.

  Gamblers, drunkards, boors – these were his companions. And he would do his best to marry his stepdaughter to one of them.

  The Earl of Harrington was merely the latest of a bad bunch. Every time he appeared, Shona managed in some way to esca
pe.

  Usually she was late returning from riding if he came to luncheon.

  If he came to dinner she either made the excuse that she was tired and went to bed before dinner, or managed to disappear immediately it was over.

  Now she knew that such methods would no longer be enough. Clearly Colonel Lockwood was determined to bring matters to a head.

  Her worst fears were realised when she descended the stairs and found that the Colonel had arrived home. He greeted her with a geniality that made her heart sink.

  His face was coarse and red and his huge moustache did not look very clean. He smelt of whisky and Shona gave a shudder of disgust.

  “I am delighted to see that you have returned home in obedience to my wishes,” he said in the loud, harsh voice that grated on her.

  She bit back an angry retort and replied coolly, “I was concerned for my mother.”

  “Of course, of course. Very natural. Your mother is very worried about you, my dear girl. She thinks, as I do, that it is time you were planning your wedding.”

  “When I find a man who suits me I shall plan my wedding, but so far I have not found such a man,” Shona replied firmly.

  “Come now, a pretty girl like you is bound to marry soon.”

  “That makes no sense,” she replied coolly. “If I am pretty, that might make a man want to marry me, but it would not make me want to marry him. I have not yet met a man who interests me, and I do not expect that to alter for some time.”

  His laugh had a touch of uneasiness.

  “Well, we can discuss that at dinner tonight,” he said. “I have much to say to you. As I told you, Lord Harrington will be here tomorrow and it is time matters were settled between you and him.”

  “They are already settled,” Shona said. “My refusal is final. They can hardly be more settled than that.”

  “That is not what I meant – ”

  “I know what you meant, and my refusal is still final. You should not delude your friend with false hopes. I want nothing to do with him.”