The Trail to Love
THE TRAIL TO LOVE
BARBARA CARTLAND
www.barbaracartland.com
Copyright © 2011 by Cartland Promotions
First published on the internet in July 2011 by Barbaracartland.com
ISBNs
978-1-908411-91-4 Epub
978-1-908411-92-1 Prc
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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* * *
THE TRAIL TO LOVE
Elissa went back to her bed and almost at once, she found herself dreaming.
In her dream she was sitting in a green woodland glade, where long bars of sunlight shone down through the leaves, making pools of golden light on the grass.
Someone was walking towards Elissa.
A slim woman in a long white dress with a fine lace veil over her face.
She looked strangely familiar and as she drew near, Elissa saw that she was carrying a large book.
“Mama – is it you?” Elissa asked, trying to see the woman’s face.
The woman approached her and laid the book in Elissa’s lap.
“It is you, isn’t it?” cried Elissa, for now she saw that the woman’s beautiful slender hands were just like her mother’s.
Now the woman laid one of her hands on Elissa’s head just as Mama used to do.
Then she spoke in a soft voice,
“My darling – a time of great happiness is coming to you. However long the road may be, you must always remember I have told you this.”
Elissa found tears welling up into her eyes as she recognised her Mama’s voice.
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
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 bestsell
ers 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 dies, decays and is forgotten, except for love which lasts for ever, even into Eternity.”
Barbara Cartland
CHAPTER ONE
1903
“Would you care to take a look at your post, sir?”
Travis, the elderly butler, asked, as he brought in a silver pot of steaming coffee to the breakfast table at No. 13 Lanchberry Close, Mayfair.
“There is rather a lot of it,” he added.
Young Richard Stanfield sighed as he thought of the mountain of unopened envelopes on the hall table of the elegant town house in Mayfair where he had grown up.
Of course there would be very many letters as he had been away in South America for nearly three months following the death of his dear father, Sir Julius Stanfield, and with no one at the house to open them, the envelopes would just pile up.
Travis was still hovering by the table, his white whiskers drooping rather sadly.
He was probably missing Sir Julius, whom he had served faithfully for thirty years.
Richard missed him too.
Yesterday when he arrived back at his home dusty and exhausted from his long journey, he had forgotten for a moment that his father was no longer there to shout out,
“Hello old young ’un!” as he would hurry out of his study to greet his son.
“Please bring in the post, Travis, and I will open it while I drink my coffee,” said Richard, and the old butler gave a nod and hobbled off to the hall to fetch the letters.
Richard finished eating the scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage that lay on his plate – it was the first proper English food he had eaten for ages and it tasted very good.
The coffee, however, was a disappointment.
Richard had grown used to the intense dark flavour of the authentic South American blends on his travels, and the bland offering that Travis had just brought up from the kitchen was no match for it.
“Here you are, sir.”
Travis laid a large tray piled high with envelopes beside Richard’s coffee cup.
“Will you be requiring anything else, sir?”
Richard saw that Travis had thoughtfully provided a silver paper knife for opening the letters.
“No thank you, Travis. You may go.”
He drained the last of his cup, wishing that it could have been extra strong Colombian to give him strength for the task ahead and picked up the paper knife.
The first letter he opened was from the bank.
“Dear sir,” it read. “It is with regret that we must inform you that your overdraft has been exceeded – please contact us at your earliest opportunity – ”
Richard winced.
He opened the next letter and saw that it was from Boustred and Sons, gentlemen’s outfitters.
“Dear sir, our account dated the 30th September remains unpaid – ”
If only he had paid for everything when he went in to pick up the lightweight tropical suits he had ordered for his trip abroad.
But he did not know then how things were going to turn out.
Richard rummaged through the pile of letters and his heart sank as he could tell, even without opening them, that they were all bills and final demands for payment.
‘What shall I do?’ he muttered to himself, pushing the letters away. ‘What on earth can I do to get myself out of this mess?’
There was a loud rat-a-ta-tat the front door.
Richard heard a mumble of voices in the hall and then Travis came back into the dining room.
“Mr. Bagley to see you, sir.”
“Send him in,” replied Richard, his heart sinking.
Mr. Bagley runs the Livery Stables just around the corner from Lanchberry Close, where Sir Julius had kept his horses for riding and carriage work.
Mr. Bagley strode into the room, sweat shining on his round red face and stood in front of Richard, clutching his bowler hat in his hands.
“Good morning to you, sir,” he began sullenly.
Richard sniffed appreciatively at the odour of straw and warm horses that always seemed to follow Mr. Bagley wherever he went and remembered some happy days in his childhood when the red-faced gentleman had taught him to ride in Hyde Park, puffing along on foot after his spirited white pony, Snowball.
But Mr. Bagley was not looking at all cheerful and encouraging as he did in those days.
He was frowning and avoiding Richard’s eyes.
“Your father – ahem – your late father – ”
Mr. Bagley wiped his brow and seemed unable to continue.
“Oh, dear,” Richard muttered. “I suppose you have come about an unpaid bill.”
Mr. Bagley looked slightly relieved.
“Indeed. The situation is a difficult one. Sir Julius was poorly for sometime and I did not like to remind him that his regular payments had been missed and after the dear man passed away, you, Mr. Richard, disappeared for a very long time.”
“How much is it?”
“Two hundred pounds, Mr. Richard.”
“Phew!”
Richard felt quite panicky. There was absolutely no way he could find that amount of money.
“The thing is, Mr. Bagley, I am not sure that I can lay my hands on two hundred pounds right now.”
Mr. Bagley shook his head.
“There’s six fat horses in my stables, Mr. Richard, eating their heads off at my expense.”
Richard suddenly felt a terrible emptiness.
There was really only one thing to do and he could not bear the thought of it.
“I must have my two hundred pounds. I’m not a rich man, sir, I’ve a wife and four daughters to keep,” Mr. Bagley was now saying.
“Mr. Bagley, of course, I understand. I don’t want you to suffer any hardship. But I simply don’t have the money. The only thing is – I don’t suppose – would you take the horses instead?”
His heart ached at the thought of Trumpeter, his father’s favourite hunter and Bluebird, his own incredibly swift thoroughbred.
To say nothing about Whiskey, Brandy, Rum and Cognac, the fine brown horses that had faithfully pulled the Stanfield carriage for so many years.
Mr. Bagley turned a deeper shade of red and looked down at his boots.
“It’s a kind offer, Mr. Richard, but I’d doubt they’d make two hundred pounds at market. They’re old and past their best except for your Bluebird.”
Now Richard felt his own face grow hot.
“I’m really sorry, Mr. Bagley. It’s been a bit of a nightmare. I ran into some difficulties in South America and I’m afraid I’ve no ready cash at all at the moment.”
Mr. Bagley straightened up and starting twisting his hat round and round in his hands.
“I’m sorry, I am sure, to hear that. Your father was a good man and my best customer till he fell ill. I’m happy to help you, Mr. Richard, by selling the horses on. I’ll do my best to find good places for them. And we’ll say no more about the debt.”
Richard thanked him, feeling so
mewhat comforted.
Then suddenly he remembered the little white pony who had been his first mount and who was now living out the days of his retirement at the livery stables.
“Mr. Bagley. There is one other thing – Snowball.”
The man’s red face split into a wide smile.
“Aha, Mr. Richard. Don’t worry about that pony. My girls adore him. He’ll have a home with us and plenty of the finest hay for as long as the little beggar’s got teeth to chew it!”
Richard smiled too.
The thought of Snowball being spoiled and adored by four little girls somehow made him feel better about not being able to pay Mr. Bagley properly for his services.
They shook hands and Travis led the Livery Stable manager away to the front door, leaving Richard in a sober and thoughtful mood.
He had behaved very stupidly indeed while he had been in South America and now, without a single penny of his substantial inheritance left in the bank, he was going to have to pay a hefty price for what he had done.
*
Elissa Valentine stood in the back garden, a pile of rugs over her arm and let the icy January breeze ruffle her long golden hair, blowing away her weariness and her sad thoughts.
It was a bitterly cold day, but the sun was shining down over the roofs of the pretty white houses in St. John’s Wood, and she could see that the green shoots of the spring flowers were already pushing up through the soil.
She tossed the rugs over the washing line and began to beat the dust from them noticing that some were looking very worn with bare patches showing though the reds and golds of the Persian designs.
Her father, the well-known artist Leo Valentine, had loved bright colours.
All his paintings glowed with endless colour and he had insisted that everything in the house – curtains, rugs, walls – should reflect the glorious colours of flowers and birds and sunshine.
But now her beloved Papa was dead and Elissa was clearing up the house so that it could be rented out to new tenants.
Elissa missed her Papa more than she could say.
He had died so peacefully in his bed and quickly without any suffering and she knew she should feel glad about that, but he was gone and no one could ever fill his place.