Love and Lucia Read online

  He knew as he spoke, because Evans was so devoted to him, that he would be pleased to have been taken into his confidence and could be trusted to tell the right story to his servants in England.

  He had already remembered a few more details of what had happened to Valenstein at the hands of Napoleon’s Armies, and was certain that Evans would make a good tale of it.

  When Lucia joined him in the Saloon he thought that no one could look more like a real Princess, or better still, a Princess in a fairy-tale.

  He looked at her for a long moment, then he took her hand in his and kissed it.

  “I love you!” he said. “And I will be able to tell you how much and how deeply after we are married.”

  She blushed at the deep note in his words and the look in his eyes.

  Then she preceded him down the gang-plank and into the closed carriage that was standing on the quay.

  The Marquis had arranged everything and they drove first to the Mairie where under French Law they had to be married by the Mayor.

  As soon as his somewhat verbose congratulations were finished they drove from there to the English Church where a Parson was waiting for them.

  The altar and the whole Church was decorated with white lilies, and as they entered there was the soft music of an organ, and the Captain and First Mate from the yacht were waiting to act as witnesses.

  Otherwise the Church was empty, although to Lucia it seemed filled with the voices of angels, and she was quite certain that her father and mother were there to see her married to the man she loved.

  ‘Only they will understand how wonderful it is to have found the one person in the whole world to whom I belong,’ Lucia thought.

  She was sure, just as her mother had seen her father enveloped with light, that the same light was shining from her and the Marquis.

  They vibrated to each other, and their love was as brilliant and as beautiful as the light her father had painted in his pictures.

  When the Marquis put the ring on her finger she felt herself tremble because he was touching her, and their love seemed to bring them both very close to the Divine.

  ‘We are blessed by God,’ Lucia said to herself and knew without words that the Marquis felt the same.

  They signed the Register, then walked down the aisle to where the carriage was waiting for them, and when they got into it and drove off, the Marquis took her hand and raised it to his lips.

  She did not speak, because she felt her whole heart and soul was still swept up into the sacred solemnity which had been part of the Wedding Service.

  As if the Marquis felt the same, having kissed her hand he drew her a little closer to him, but they drove in silence.

  Only when they had travelled quite a long way did Lucia realise they were not returning to the harbour where the yacht was moored.

  She looked at the Marquis for an explanation and he said,

  “I have a surprise for you, my lovely wife!”

  “What is it?”

  “I have not told you before that I own a Villa just outside Nice.”

  “Why did you keep it a secret?”

  “I have not been there for several years, and I wanted to be quite certain that it was comfortable and beautiful enough for my bride and our honeymoon.”

  Lucia moved even closer to him to put her head on his shoulder as she said,

  “Anywhere we spend our honeymoon – will be wonderful with you – but perhaps it will be even more marvellous to be in a Villa with mimosa trees and flowers everywhere I look.”

  “That is what I thought,” the Marquis said, “and, darling, what is more important, we can be completely alone and undisturbed there, better even than if we were in the yacht.”

  The horses were climbing up a steep slope, and now when they turned off the road there was a drive between high cypress trees.

  At the end there was a large Villa gleaming white in the sunshine and looking like a Grecian Temple, standing high above the sea in a garden vivid with flowers and blossom.

  It was difficult, however, to look at anything except the love in the Marquis’s eyes as he drew Lucia from the carriage and through a porticoed door into the large cool white room that might have stepped, like her gown, out of a fairy-story.

  She was to find later that the Villa was exquisitely furnished, with pictures that would have delighted her father, and that the views from every window were breathtaking.

  But for the moment she could see nothing but the Marquis’s eyes and they seemed to fill the whole world.

  He looked at her for a long moment before he said,

  “I never imagined anyone could look so lovely or so perfect! How could I be so incredibly lucky as to have found you?”

  “That is what I keep asking – myself.”

  She thought he would kiss her, but instead he put out his hand to touch her chin, outlining it with his fingers and giving her as he did so a strange feeling, as if she was touched by the sun.

  Then very gently, as if there was no hurry, he took the wreath from her head and after it the wedding-veil.

  He threw them down on a chair, then again slowly and gently he pulled her into his arms and kissed her as if the touch of her lips was something he wished to savour and remember.

  As always when the Marquis kissed her, she felt her whole being respond and surrender itself to him.

  But now it was more poignant, more intense because, incredible though it seemed, she was his wife. She bore his name and she was his.

  He drew her closer and closer, then his kiss changed from being gentle to possessive, though at the same time reverent. She felt the fire burning on his lips, and it lit a fire within herself.

  As the flames leapt higher and higher the Marquis drew her from the room in which they were standing.

  Hardly realising it was happening, Lucia found herself in a room in which there was a bed with a headboard shaped like a silver cockle-shell and a cover of exquisite lace over white satin.

  The walls of the room were white too, and as she looked at them she saw with astonishment that the pictures on them were her father’s.

  Only the Marquis, she thought, could have thought of anything that would give her such pleasure as to become his wife with her father, as it were, blessing them with his genius.

  The white walls, the beauty of the room, and the flowers that were everywhere, all seemed a fitting background not only for their love, but for the light which her father had painted, and which now made Venice part of their love.

  The Marquis was watching her as she looked around. Then she said,

  “Oh, darling, how can I thank you once – again for understanding – for being so – wonderful and – so different from any – other man in the – world?”

  “I will tell you how you can thank me,” the Marquis said. “And, my precious, I feel as if I have waited a century for your thanks.”

  He swept her into his arms and once again he was kissing her, but now passionately, demandingly, possessively, and as his kisses grew more intense, something wild and wonderful leapt within Lucia to respond to him.

  He kissed her until the white bedroom and the flowers both inside and outside the Villa and the sunshine whirled around them.

  The sky and the whole world had disappeared and once again there was nothing but themselves, floating into an eternity where there was only love.

  Afterwards Lucia could never remember how it had happened, but somehow she had lost her wedding-gown and was lying in the softness of the bed, and as the sun shining through the windows seemed to blind her eyes, the Marquis joined her and she was no longer alone.

  “I love you, my perfect, adorable little wife!” he said. “And now at last I can tell you how much I need and want you, and how much you mean to me.”

  “I – love you – and there are no – other words to express what I – feel but those.”

  “It is what I want you to say, over and over again, so that I will believe you,” the Marquis sa
id, “because, my precious, I am still half-afraid you may vanish and I will never find you again.”

  “I will – never do that,” Lucia whispered, “for without you I would – not only be – alone – but in darkness.” He understood what she was saying and pulled her closer still.

  “The future for us both is filled with love, and happiness,” he said. “Never again, my beautiful wife, shall you cry or be afraid.”

  “I – I – love you!”

  Then, because words were unnecessary, the Marquis was kissing her lips with a fire that seemed to burn into her very heart.

  As she quivered against him, he kissed her eyes, her lips, her neck, her breasts, and she felt as he did so once again that the angels were singing overhead.

  Then as he made her his, there was only the blazing light of love which came from God and was life itself.

  OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES

  The Barbara Cartland Eternal Collection is the unique opportunity to collect as ebooks all five hundred of the timeless beautiful romantic novels written by the world’s most celebrated and enduring romantic author.

  Named the Eternal Collection because Barbara’s inspiring stories of pure love, just the same as love itself, the books will be published on the internet at the rate of four titles per month until all five hundred are available.

  The Eternal Collection, classic pure romance available worldwide for all time .

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  Love and Lucia

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  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 AND LUCIA

  Barbara Cartland

  Barbara Cartland Ebooks Ltd

  This edition © 2012

  Copyright Cartland Promotions 1983

  eBook conversion by M-Y Books