203. Love Wins Read online

  He would have risen to his feet, but she hurried towards him to sit down hastily on a chair.

  “Please go on eating,” she said. “If you don’t know where the next mouthful is coming from, it would be a mistake to let what you already have grow cold.”

  “Thank you,” Lord Heywood replied a little sarcastically.

  He told himself that he should resent the intrusion from somebody who had no right to be there.

  Instead he found it difficult not to admit to himself that she was unusually lovely.

  She was wearing a thin summer gown that was simply made, but was nevertheless, he was sure, an expensive garment.

  It was certainly a frame for her slender but exquisitely curved figure and the ribbons that decorated it were the blue of her eyes.

  She had no sooner seated herself than Carter came in carrying a plate of eggs and bacon, which he set down in front of her.

  “Mornin’, miss!” he said cheerily. “I ’opes this be to your likin’.”

  “I am hungry enough to eat a horse!” Lalita replied.

  “Not ours, I ’ope!” Carter replied at once. “Them’s the one thing we ain’t partin’ with.”

  “You have horses with you?” Lalita exclaimed. “How wonderful! I am longing to ride. The empty stables look pathetic – like birds’ nests after the birds have flown away.”

  “If you think you are going to ride my horses you are mistaken,” Lord Heywood said sharply.

  “Why not?” Lalita asked. “I am a very good rider.”

  “I am sure you are, but while you stay here, and it must not be for long, you must keep to your original plan of not being seen.”

  Lalita gave a little laugh.

  “You are thinking of your reputation, my Lord.

  “Actually I was thinking of yours,” Lord Heywood said, “but now you mention it, I have no wish to be hailed as a roué the moment I become Head of the Family!”

  “Is your family likely – to be calling on you?”

  “It might happen, but I hope not. I have nothing to offer them, beyond the same fare that you have found monotonous, eggs and vegetables.”

  “Nonsense,” Lalita said. “You will find lots of things to shoot if you have a good eye.”

  She looked at him mischievously and added,

  “Of course Frenchmen are a much bigger target than a bird or a rabbit!”

  “I see you are trying to provoke me,” Lord Heywood answered, “and I refuse to reply until I have finished eating. As I have already stated, I am extremely hungry.”

  Only when they had finished everything on the table and Carter brought nothing more from the kitchen did Lord Heywood say,

  “Seriously, Lalita, we will have to make some plans to take you away from here.”

  “But why can I not stay? I should be very happy with you and your man – what is his name? Carter? He is obviously very efficient and looks after you very well and, as I can look after myself – there is no problem.”

  Lord Heywood gave an exclamation of exasperation.

  “Now listen to me, Lalita. I cannot keep repeating myself. You cannot stay here. It would be extremely uncomfortable both for you and for me if it was known that you were here alone and unchaperoned.”

  “Very well – but where shall I go?”

  “You cannot expect me to answer such a stupid question. How do I know?”

  “Then it is just as stupid to say that I have to leave. I have told you I could go to France, since if I stay in England there is always the chance that my uncle might find me. Besides I cannot wander about looking for empty houses – and I know they would think it odd if I tried to put up at a hotel alone.”

  Lord Heywood knew that they would indeed think it very odd and in most cases would refuse her accommodation.

  He supposed that there must be some quite easy solution to the problem, but for the moment he could not think of it.

  “While you are considering whether you should drown me or cut me up into small pieces and bury me in the garden,” Lalita said in a small voice, “I would like to go and look at – your horses.”

  “Very well, come and see Waterloo and Conqueror,” Lord Heywood conceded.

  Lalita gave a cry of delight.

  “Is that what you named them after the battle?”

  “It was Carter who insisted on it,” Lord Heywood replied. “He called his own horse ‘Conqueror’ and kept on referring to Rollo, as mine had been previously called ‘Waterloo’ until I accepted that it was now his name.”

  “I have a feeling, and I shall be disappointed if I am wrong, that he is as magnificent as you are!”

  The way she said it did not make it the sort of ingratiating compliment that Lord Heywood had received from the many women who pursued him. It was more a statement of fact and he saw no point in denying it.

  Waterloo was certainly very magnificent when they found him in the paddock behind the stables.

  Lord Heywood gave his special whistle and the stallion came trotting towards him.

  “He is wonderful. Really wonderful!” Lalita cried in delight. “No wonder you love him.”

  “How do you know I love him?” Lord Heywood asked.

  “You speak to him in a different tone of voice from when you are talking about anything else. And besides no animal obeys one or comes to the whistle so easily unless he knows he is loved.”

  Lord Heywood raised his eyebrows, but he did not comment on what she had said.

  He only thought, as she stood in her white gown patting Waterloo, that they made a picture that any artist would have wanted to paint.

  Lord Heywood knew by the expression in her eyes what she was yearning for and found it impossible to resist what he knew that she asked for without words.

  “I intend to ride Waterloo to visit one or two of the nearer farms,” he said. “I expect you would like to accompany me on Conqueror?”

  “Can I really do that?”

  “Only if when I am at the farms you stay out of sight in the woods near them and so the farmers and their wives think I am alone.”

  “I promise I will and thank you – thank you for saying I may come with you.”

  “The first thing we have to do is to find you a saddle,” Lord Heywood suggested.

  He thought as he spoke that even if the horses had gone and the stables were empty, there should still be plenty of harnesses in the harness room.

  They went there to find indeed not only bridles and saddles but also a harness for carriage horses, which was ornamented with silver and embossed with the Heywood crest.

  It struck Lord Heywood that some of it might be saleable, but he reflected that like so many other objects these too were likely to be for the moment a glut on the market.

  It was only when the horses were saddled and ready that he realised that Lalita had not said anything about changing her gown.

  “I suppose,” he commented, “you have nothing to wear except what you stand up in?”

  “Actually I brought two other gowns with me in a valise and, of course, my nightgown, but it was heavy enough to make my arm ache before I reached the stagecoach.”

  As she spoke, she saw by his expression that she had given Lord Heywood another clue and added,

  “Stagecoaches travelling from all directions stop at the top of the village.”

  “All the same it took time for you to get here,” Lord Heywood said, “which means that you might have come from some distance, except that you knew that this house was empty and that I was abroad. So your own home must be somewhere in this vicinity.”

  “Very clever!” Lalita said approvingly, “If I give you one clue every day, I reckon in about three years’ time you will learn who I am and be able to blackmail me – by threatening to take me home.”

  “I should be very ashamed of my intelligence if it takes as long as that.” Lord Heywood replied. “But I suppose it never struck you that if your uncle is making enquiries about you the guard on your stagec
oach will be able to tell him exactly where he put you down.”

  “I had thought of that,” Lalita said triumphantly, “so I told him I was stopping so as to pick up the fast coach for Oxford. He informed me that I had a twenty minute wait.”

  She spoke in a manner that showed she was delighted to have scored a point off her opponent and Lord Heywood laughed.

  “I am beginning to think,” he said, “that you are not the poor, pathetic little orphan of the storm that you have made yourself out to be but a very shrewd experienced trickster!”

  “Perhaps I am, my Lord, so in which case you will have to keep your eye on me for I shall certainly be able to outwit you if you try to make me do anything I don’t wish to do.”

  Despite himself, Lord Heywood had to admit that he found Lalita amusing, provocative and certainly most unusual.

  He had an idea that she was treating him a little warily, as if she was afraid that she might after all be unable to persuade him to let her stay.

  At the same time he knew that it was becoming more and more difficult to decide what was the right course for him to take.

  It was certainly reprehensible that she should be staying alone with him in an empty house, but he could not conjure up a chaperone from nowhere and he was also too beset by his own problems to have time to concentrate fully on Lalita’s.

  *

  His visit to the first farm was horrifying.

  The farmer was getting old, one of his sons had joined the Army and another had been pressganged into the Navy. The third son was little more than a child trying to help his father with the assistance of what Lord Heywood privately thought must be the village idiot.

  The cows were too old to give much milk and the pigs had not enough food to fatten them for market. There was an exceptional number of scraggy hens, but there was no other livestock.

  Very little of the ground had been ploughed and what had been had produced a crop of weeds and nettles.

  “Surely you obtained good prices for what you could sell in the War?” Lord Heywood asked him.

  “That were true, my Lord, but it weren’t easy to grow much when us were short ’anded and the last three year things ’ave been bad, very bad.”

  Lord Heywood knew that they looked to him hopefully to repair and restock the farm, but. while he told them cautiously that he had a great deal to do first, he could not bear to inform them bluntly that as far as he was concerned the future seemed hopeless.

  He found the same conditions at the next farm, which depressed him so much that he decided that this would be enough for one day and rode home.

  He was so deep in thought that he almost forgot Lalita’s existence until she said,

  “You will have to do something for them, my Lord, and for yourself.”

  “I have not the least idea what,” he answered sharply.

  “But something must be done.”

  “Only a miracle can be of any use and that should come in the form of golden guineas like manna from Heaven.”

  “Miracles do happen!”

  “In the past, in the Bible and in Fairy stories,” Lord Heywood countered. “We have to face reality, Lalita.”

  “God helps those who help themselves.”

  “I am only too willing to help myself if somebody will show me how,” Lord Heywood replied bitterly.

  The Abbey looked so glorious that it seemed impossible to believe that, with all its contents, he still had not a penny to spend on it.

  As if Lalita read his thoughts, she said,

  “Do you have a list of The Abbey’s contents?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Well, suppose they made a mistake and you find that they have not listed everything.”

  “My Solicitor assures me that they did the job thoroughly.”

  “Perhaps there is some treasure hidden under the floorboards or in the cellars.”

  “If I find some bottles of wine in the cellars, I will see if there is one that we can enjoy for our dinner.”

  “As you say that, I imagine I am welcome to stay with you tonight at any rate,” Lalita said demurely.

  “I suppose so,” he admitted, “but I would like to add that you must pack up and leave tomorrow morning.”

  “I cannot believe that you would have enjoyed your ride half so much with Carter as you did with me.”

  Because it was the truth this remark irritated him.

  “I can assure you,” he said, “I have every intention of thinking of somewhere you can go, but at present my own difficulties come first.”

  “But, of course, and that is why I want to help you, my Lord.”

  “There is nothing you can do.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that. I am a Celt and there is another clue for you. And all Celts have special powers. My mother was a water diviner when she wished to be.”

  “We have plenty of water, thank you,” Lord Heywood said, looking at the lake.

  “I have a feeling that one day I shall surprise you.”

  “You have done that already,” he responded. “How could I imagine when I arrived home this morning that I would find a stowaway in my mother’s bedroom?”

  Lalita gave a cry of laughter.

  “That is exactly what I am – a stowaway! And no humane Captain would throw me overboard.”

  “I think that is a popular illusion,” Lord Heywood said. “And let me point out that stowaways have to work their passage.”

  “I have every intention of doing so,” Lalita replied, “and when you find I am indispensible, you will then be grateful – to me for choosing your ship to hide in.”

  She spoke with a sincerity that he found rather amusing.

  Then, as he watched her ride ahead of him through the gateway into the stables looking very lovely in her white gown with the blue ribbons on the large charger, he thought that none of his friends, if they were told of it, would believe what was happening to him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Lalita,” Lord Heywood called as he walked into the hall.

  “I am here.”

  He heard her voice from the writing room and even as he moved towards the sound she came running through the door towards him.

  “You are back,” she exclaimed unnecessarily. “What happened?”

  Lalita knew even as she spoke that the answer would not be a pleasant one and Lord Heywood, without replying, walked past her and into the room she had just left.

  The writing room, which was a rather prosaic name for the exquisitely designed salon that opened out of the huge library, was the room downstairs that he had decided to use.

  There was such a large choice in the vast house that it had been a difficult decision until Lalita pointed out that he would need a desk and there was a very attractive one made two centuries earlier in the writing room.

  Decorated with white walls picked out in gold and with a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling it actually looked more suitable for a party than as a sitting room for everyday use.

  But the chairs and sofas were comfortable and there were also a number of books that Lalita had been dusting.

  Some of them were scattered on the floor and her hands and the duster showed how dirty they had become from neglect.

  Lalita was also aware, as Lord Heywood walked across the room to stand with his back to the empty fireplace, that she herself was looking very strange.

  She was wearing a housemaid’s apron, which was too large for her, over her gown, and she had covered her head with a small square of linen, which she now hurriedly removed.

  The sunshine coming through the window lit up the gold of her hair, and, when she pushed it back from her forehead, she left a smudge of dust on her white skin.

  Lord Heywood, however, was not concerned with Lalita’s appearance and she knew by the frown between his eyes and the squareness of his chin that he was upset.

  When he left her after breakfast, he had told her that he was going to visit the pensioners on the
estate and she had thought apprehensively that it would not be entirely a pleasant visit or a happy reunion with the old people he had known so well before he went abroad.

  “What did you find?” she asked softly

  “Of the fifteen cottages I visited,” he replied, “thirteen need urgent repairs done to them.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “The roofs leak, the floorboards have given way, the chimneys smoke and God knows what else is wrong.”

  There was silence and then, as if Lalita sensed that he had not told her the whole story, she asked,

  “What else?”

  “They are expecting their pensions at the end of the week, which will be the first of the month and I have no idea if Crosswaith, my Solicitor, intends to pay them and increase the large amount of money I owe them already.”

  There was a note in Lord Heywood’s voice that told Lalita what he was feeling more effectively than if he had put it into words.

  “What will you do?” she asked.

  “I must go to London tomorrow and see them,” he replied. “I must also sell the few things that are not in Trust and hope when that money is spent, something else will turn up.”

  There was more silence and then Lalita said,

  “We have not nearly finished going round the house to see if there is anything else that can be sold.”

  “The only things here that are mine personally belonged to my mother.”

  Lalita gave a little cry.

  “I cannot bear you to part with the pictures in her bedroom or that chest which you told me had been in her family for centuries before she married your father.”

  “It’s no use being sentimental,” Lord Heywood replied in a harsh voice.

  Once again there was silence before Lalita queried,

  “Do you think there is – anything in London that the Solicitors have not – listed?”

  “That is what I intend to find out. I am also determined to put the house on the market, not for sale, I am not allowed to do that, but perhaps somebody may rent it from me.”

  He knew as he spoke that it was a forlorn hope and Lalita realised the same.

  She had, before she came to The Abbey, heard of quite a number of people who were either closing up or trying to let their London houses, finding it difficult enough to keep up one dwelling let alone two.