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It Is Love Page 5


  I hope you sleep as comfortably as I will do.”

  It was signed with her name, all written in rather a scribble.

  Michael was certain she had written it in a hurry. At the same time, he thought that this was exactly the kind of writing this unusual girl would have – wild, carefree and unconstrained.

  He smiled, tucking the note away into his pocket. He would keep it as a souvenir.

  He ate the meal, which was delicious and drank the excellent wine.

  Then he was ready to go to sleep.

  He removed his coat and his shoes to feel more comfortable and then tried to settle down in the back seat, covered by the fur rug.

  Gradually he began to fall asleep.

  Verna’s face seemed to float in his consciousness, reminding him how he had longed to kiss her.

  He had a feeling, although he might be mistaken, that she would not have prevented him from doing so.

  That was a shocking thing to think about a lady, but he hoped it was true!

  It alarmed him how intensely he desired her kiss.

  In another moment he was asleep.

  The day’s exertions had left him so exhausted that nothing would have woken him.

  He was not even aware of the moment when Verna opened the car’s door a few minutes later.

  “I came to collect the plate,” she called out gaily.

  Receiving no answer, she peered closely at the recumbent figure in the poor light.

  “Are you asleep?” she whispered.

  A soft snore was the only reply.

  “Yes – you are, aren’t you?”

  He moved sideways restlessly and she darted back, not venturing closer until he had settled again.

  Then she leaned closer.

  “You are worn out.”

  A full moon shone through the window and by its beams she could see his face, relaxed in sleep.

  How handsome he was, she thought.

  She had been struck by his good looks in the first moment. Now she had the opportunity to examine him at leisure and they pleased her even more.

  His face was lean, a high forehead and long straight nose. His mouth was wide and firm, revealing a hint of the humour that had so delighted her during the day. Beneath it his chin suggested stubbornness.

  An intriguing combination she considered, smiling gently. Life with him could be very very interesting.

  Then she checked herself, horrified at the way her thoughts were tending.

  She knew nothing about him except that he was not a man of her own social standing.

  And yet he was certainly a gentleman. His voice was cultured and he spoke with an instinctive authority that came from a lifetime of self-confidence. That was quite true despite his shabby clothes.

  He was also beginning to show signs of a growth of dark beard, which gave him a slightly piratical look, she reflected, considering the matter with pleasure.

  She leaned forward gently to look at him better and found that her mouth had come dangerously close to his.

  She must back off at once.

  But even while she was thinking this she found that she had crept a little nearer, so that her lips were brushing his.

  Almost brushing his, she amended hastily.

  Almost.

  She had nearly kissed him, but not quite. Still, she must leave at once before she ran into danger.

  She was still in time, she reassured herself as she hurried out of the door.

  She had nearly kissed him, but she avoided it in time.

  Yes, that was it.

  She repeated it again and again as she ran back to the hotel. But she could still feel his lips against her own.

  As she had feared, Winifred was waiting for her in their room, her hair in curlers and her face full of indignation.

  “And just where do you think you have been?” she demanded in high dudgeon.

  “I have been to visit the garage, enquiring after Mr. Payne’s welfare,” Verna answered with as much dignity as she could muster.

  “The garage? Have you no sense of propriety?”

  “Yes, far too much to accept his kindness without at least making certain that he is as comfortable as can be managed. It’s horrid out there, all cold and dirty.”

  “It’s probably what he’s used to.”

  “No it is not. Do be fair, Winnie. You pretend to believe that he’s a servant, but you must be able to see that he isn’t.”

  “I see nothing of the kind and please don’t call me Winnie.”

  “I quite often call you Winnie,” Verna parried in a wheedling tone. “You’ve never minded before.”

  “You do it when you want something and you are not getting around me, my girl.”

  Verna merely gave a happy laugh.

  Despite Winifred’s caustic words she knew that her old friend loved her devotedly. As her mother had died so many years before, Winifred was the nearest to a mother she had ever known.

  “It’s time you were in bed,” the older lady declared. “Now, keep still while I undress you.”

  But Verna, as was usual, was already removing her clothes without waiting for help.

  “You should not do that. A great lady should stand still while her maid takes off her things.”

  “You’ll never make a great lady of me, Winnie. I like doing things for myself.”

  “You do far too much for yourself. You should be statuesque and lofty.”

  “Heaven forbid. There’s no fun in that!”

  “Listen to me. You are not supposed to have fun. You are supposed to behave properly.”

  “I hate behaving properly.”

  “You don’t need to tell me that. I’ve been trying to teach you propriety since you were a little girl and I have not succeeded yet.”

  “And you won’t! I am not going to do the proper thing if it only means marrying some dreary creature just because he has a title.”

  “Much better than marrying a servant,” Winifred came back darkly.

  “He is not a servant.”

  “You don’t know that. He could be anybody.”

  ‘Not just anybody,’ Verna murmured to herself.

  By now she had discarded her clothes and Winifred had slipped a blue nightgown over her head. Absorbed in her thoughts she sat docilely before the mirror.

  She could see him now, lying fast asleep in the car – after his cheerful confidence of the day it had touched her to see him looking vulnerable – almost defenceless.

  How tempting it had been to lean towards him and to study his shapely mouth that any woman would wish to kiss.

  Not that she had actually kissed his lips she assured herself hastily – she had only thought about it.

  But the feel of his lips against hers called her a liar. Her mouth had touched his, just briefly and the memory would haunt her until –

  Until what – ?

  Until she could do the same again.

  There! She had admitted it to herself.

  From behind her she heard Winifred mumble,

  “You’ll realise that I’m right.”

  “I beg your pardon,” she enquired, coming out of her reverie. “What did you say, Winifred?”

  “If you ever listened to a word I say, which you never do – ”

  “I am listening to you now, I promise. What were you saying?”

  “I’ve forgotten. Oh, yes – you’ll find out that he’s an upstart who’s learned fine manners from the men he’s worked for. That is, if you can call his manners fine.”

  “Obviously you don’t.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that he’s on the run from the law.”

  “Oh, Winnie, don’t be so critical. Why on earth would you think that?”

  “Because of the way he has to travel home. What kind of man has to seize an opportunity like this?”

  “A very kind one.”

  “Or a convict. Or a servant who has just been thrown out of his employment without a reference.”
r />   “No, I think perhaps he is a younger son.”

  “Then he’s a younger son without any money. Just look at him.”

  A smile crept over Verna’s face. She was happy to look at him.

  “Just what are you thinking?” Winifred demanded suspiciously.

  “I’m considering his appearance as you suggested.”

  “Then consider his suit that needs a lot of attention from a valet and plainly hasn’t had any. Then consider that he has no money – not even a younger son’s allowance.”

  She sniffed as she came to her parting shot.

  “In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that this young man has sneaked out of his hotel without paying his bill!”

  Then sublimely unaware of scoring a spectacular bullseye, Winifred climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her head.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Michael fell asleep almost as soon as he had tucked himself in on the back seat of the car.

  He was much more tired than he had imagined and slept without moving until, with a jerk, he woke up to find the light streaming in through the windows.

  His watch told him it was seven-thirty.

  He felt stiff all over, but managed to climb out of the car. At the far end of the building was a large sink with a tap, and here he managed to have some kind of a wash and make himself reasonably presentable.

  A pageboy from the hotel came into the garage and spoke to him.

  “Her Ladyship’s compliments, monsieur, and will you please join her in the dining room?”

  He had done his best with his appearance but, even so, he guessed he did not look like a suitable companion to join Lady Verna at breakfast. Winifred’s withering glance would tell him so if he had any doubts.

  Verna smiled, indicating the place beside her.

  “You must eat a big breakfast. There is such a busy day ahead that you must keep your strength up.”

  The food was delicious and he ate willingly.

  In half an hour they were on the road to Abbeville and from there to Etaples.

  Michael drove fast and it was clear they were going to cover the distance in very good time.

  Now they could see the sea and every moment they were growing closer to Calais.

  “I wonder if we will catch a ferry tonight,” Verna mused. “One thing I discovered on the way over here is that not all the boats take cars.”

  “I suppose there just aren’t enough cars travelling to make the special arrangements worthwhile.”

  “That is just what I was told. I came over on the Princess Charlotte, and if we are lucky we can catch the same boat back to Dover.”

  In the event their luck held. As they drove into the harbour at Calais they could already see the Princess Charlotte waiting on the quay.

  “We’ll have to hurry,” Verna said, reaching into her bag for her purse. “Can you drive me to the booking office and I will buy the tickets.”

  “I cannot take the car beyond this barrier,” Michael replied. “I’ll come with you. You mustn’t go through that crowd alone.”

  He wondered if he should suggest leaving her here while he went to buy the tickets, but that would mean her giving him the money, which he would find awkward.

  While he was pondering which course to take, she seized his hand and hurried off, calling, “we’ll be back in a moment,” over her shoulder at Winifred.

  When they reached the ticket office and he could see how much money was involved in the passage for three people and a car, Michael was glad that he had not let her give it to him.

  He swore that never again would he find himself in this situation.

  From now on he would lead a reformed life – sober, respectable and above all honourable.

  And he would never allow himself to run this short of money.

  But then looking at the delightful Verna, he realised that he was only repeating a vow he had made ever since he met her.

  Was that really only recently?

  It seemed like a lifetime.

  “You are just in time for the crossing, monsieur,” the clerk informed him. “We have one other car travelling tonight and the ramp is still down.”

  “I wish to stay by the car all the time,” he insisted.

  “Not possible, monsieur. You must leave it with the attendants, but you may go to see it later.”

  A door was opened in the side of the ship, through which a ramp had been eased down onto the quay.

  Up this ramp a motorcar was being pulled by two men and pushed by another four.

  As they watched, it reached the top of the ramp and vanished into the body of the ship. They hurried to where they had left the car under Winifred’s stern protection.

  They reached it to find an incredible sight.

  The lovely vehicle had attracted much attention and was now surrounded by eager boys, who walked around it admiringly and some ventured to touch it.

  Winifred took great exception to them and used her umbrella vigorously on their hands, shouting,

  “Be off!”

  They vanished.

  “I do apologise for leaving you alone with the car,” volunteered Michael. “I should have known better.”

  But Winifred was not to be placated.

  “You need not think that I needed your help,” she declared proudly. “I’m quite capable of using an umbrella to good effect!”

  Her eyes kindled as she added,

  “On anyone.”

  “I am sure you are,” admitted Michael. “It looked very painful. But we’re here now and I must take the car to the ramp while you ladies prepare to board.”

  “We are quite aware of that, young man,” Winifred said loftily. “We have done this before – on the way out.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he responded meekly.

  As he jumped behind the wheel, Winifred climbed out. It took just a moment to swing round and head for the ramp where the attendants were waiting for him.

  Reluctantly he handed the vehicle over to them and walked back to where he had left the ladies. Together they headed for the point where passengers embarked and soon they were on board the great ship.

  “It will be leaving very soon,” exclaimed Verna.

  Winifred gave a faint groan.

  “Yes dear, I’ve remembered how seasick you get,” Verna told her. “That’s why I have booked a cabin just for you. We’ll find it now and you can lie down.”

  “And you must stay with me,” insisted Winifred.

  “No, I’ll leave you to rest,” Verna parried quickly.

  “Can I give you my arm to your cabin?” Michael asked Winifred.

  “Thank you, I can manage, if my Lady will come with me,” Winifred snorted in high dudgeon.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “There is no necessity for you to come with us,” she added as he began to follow them.

  “I’ll wait for her Ladyship on deck.”

  As he walked away. he allowed himself a quiet grin.

  Winifred’s hostility was rather amusing and he was enjoying anticipation of the moment when she learned his true identity.

  For half-an-hour he stood on the deck, watching the crew making preparations to depart. At last the ship gave a small lurch and they began to move away from the quay.

  He was wondering if Verna would be able to join him after all. He was sure that Winifred would keep her in the cabin if she could.

  “There you are,” called a voice from behind him.

  He turned and there was Verna smiling at him.

  “Did you think I wasn’t coming?” she enquired.

  “I was afraid of it. Winifred has now really taken against me, despite my efforts to defer to her.”

  Verna chuckled and tucked her hand in his arm.

  “Yes, I saw you trying to be meek.”

  “I’m not usually meek,” he agreed wryly.

  “And you don’t find it easy – ”

  “No, but not much longer now, thank goodness.”


  “Oh!” she looked offended. “Are you so eager to be rid of me?”

  “No, I didn’t mean that,” he apologised hastily.

  She laughed and in the fast fading light he could see a gleam in her eyes. She was enjoying teasing him.

  Suddenly he was disconcerted and could not think of what to say.

  “I think – ” he began.

  “Yes?”

  “I think – ”

  He still could not find the words.

  “You think what?”

  “I think – perhaps we should go below to see the car. I am a little concerned lest people try to steal from it.”

  “Can people really be so greedy?”

  “I am afraid people are greedy in every walk of life. It does not matter if it is a car, a bicycle or something you have sent for repair, you have to be careful it is not taken from you. I remember my father – ”

  He stopped, cursing himself for his carelessness. He had been about to say that his father once had some fine pictures stolen, forgetting he was supposed to be a pauper.

  “What about your father?” she questioned.

  “Oh – nothing really. Somebody picked his pocket. It can happen at any time.”

  “Tell me about your father.”

  “There’s nothing much to tell – ah, there’s the car. It seems to be all right, but we had better go and sit in it.”

  He handed her in and climbed inside beside her.

  “We need to discuss what we are going to do when we land. Where do you want me to drive you?”

  “But how can I ask you to drive me any further?”

  “Will anyone be meeting you?”

  “No. Nobody knows that I am coming home. But I drove myself to Dover before and I can manage again.”

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said firmly. “Where will you go?”

  “To my home in the country.”

  “However well you managed on the way out, you must not try to do so again.”

  “Must not?” she asked him.

  He had briefly forgotten that, while she considered him a servant, he was in no position to tell her what to do.

  He took a deep breath.

  “Must not,” he repeated. “You have placed your safety in my hands and must take my advice. I will escort you to your home in Kent.”

  “How do you know I live in Kent?”

  “I have heard of Challoner Abbey,” he said quickly. “It’s not too far from my own home.”