It Is Love Page 8

  Michael kissed her tenderly and then as he felt her quiver against him, he carried on kissing her.

  A little later he raised his head to say,

  “I think, darling, I should go to my room and try to make myself look respectable.”

  ‘How?’ asked a little voice in his brain. ‘You have one suitcase with some underclothes and nothing else.’

  When he had gone, Verna put her hands to her eyes.

  ‘I love him! I love him!’ she told herself.

  Then because she was beginning to feel frightened of what might happen, she prayed to God to help them, so that they could always be together.

  It was a prayer from the very depths of her soul.

  Then she walked across to the window and, looking over the garden, she thought how beautiful it was with all the flowers in bloom.

  ‘I adore my home,’ she thought to herself. ‘I love being here, but if I have to live without a garden in a house which is so small we can hardly move, as long as I am with Michael, that is all I care for.’

  At the same time she was scared.

  She knew how intimidating her father could be with anything that concerned her and her sisters.

  She could only pray that, even if it took a miracle, he would understand how much Michael meant to her and how much she meant to him.

  But for now she had something important that must be done, so she hurried up the stairs to Winifred’s room to find her already unpacking.

  “Winifred dear,” Verna began hurriedly, “I want to talk to you.”

  Winifred sniffed.

  “About him, I suppose.”

  “Yes, him. About Lord Belmont, my true love and the man I intend to marry. No, don’t look at me like that. I am not mad. Old Lord Belmont is dead and Michael, his elder son, has come home to assume the title.”

  “That creature? He has spun you a story and you believe it!”

  “It’s the truth,” said Verna seriously. “He has told me everything, including about the troubles in his family. But I love him and nothing is going to come between us.”

  “Your Papa will have something to say about that.”

  But Verna resolved that she would not be deterred.

  She loved Michael and knew that he loved her and she would not allow herself to be afraid of anything whilst she knew that his heart was hers.

  “I know it will not be easy to persuade Papa, but he simply must say yes, because if he doesn’t, my heart will break. Oh, Winnie dear, you won’t say anything against my darling, will you?”

  “Hmm!”

  “Promise me,” Verna pleaded.

  “What can I say for him? That we picked him up as a vagabond, hiring himself out – ”

  Verna gave a little scream.

  “No, no, nothing like that. Just stay very quiet and agree with everything I say.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “You wouldn’t want to see me heart-broken, would you?”

  “But why him?” wailed Winifred. “Why couldn’t you choose one of those respectable young men who have wanted to marry you?”

  “Because not one of them was ‘the one’. None of them smiles like him, or can make me laugh. None of them makes my heart beat so hard – just by looking at me.”

  “But that’s a whole lot of romantic fiddle-faddle!” protested Winifred. “What matters is a good position in Society, a secure life, enough money to live on without fear – ”

  But Verna was shaking her head.

  “No, they do not matter. What really matters is a man who loves you as much as you love him, knowing that you are sheltered in his arms and in his heart – that he is yours forever and ever, just as you are his.”

  “And suppose nobody in Society will ever speak to you again?”

  “As long as he speaks to me, I will not care. As long as he kisses me, so that I melt inside with love for him – oh, Winnie, have you never been kissed like that?”

  To her surprise a look of total sadness settled over the old woman’s face.

  “Yes,” she admitted at last. “But he died.”

  “Oh, darling.”

  Overcome with pity, Verna threw her arms around Winifred.

  “It’s all right,” Winifred added gruffly. “It was a long time ago now. I’ll do whatever you want. And I only hope that you will be luckier.”

  “I will,” vowed Verna. “I am definitely going to be the happiest woman on earth!”

  *

  Upstairs Michael found himself taken into a huge magnificent bedchamber with a four-poster bed.

  Its opulence was overwhelming and he wondered if that was the whole point.

  This view was confirmed by Rogers, the valet who had been assigned to him and who confided that he had originally been given a much smaller room on the next floor. But the orders had been changed at the last minute.

  “They’ve realised that you’re more important than they thought, my Lord,” was his explanation.

  He might be right, Michael thought.

  Possibly this was the courtesy thought proper for a man who aspired to a daughter of the house, especially if he held the title of Earl.

  Or perhaps Lord Challoner was simply making it plain that he was being presumptuous in even thinking of Verna?

  Maureen solved the problem of his clothes for him in an unexpected way. She was Lord Challoner’s second daughter and had displeased him by marrying against his wishes. After three years her husband had died, prompting her father to remark that he had always predicted it would end badly.

  A tearful Lady Maureen had then been persuaded to return home, bringing her late husband’s clothes with her, all she had left of him.

  She now lived in permanent mourning, but she was a kind-hearted soul and, when Verna appealed to her, she had no hesitation in loaning out the evening clothes that had belonged to ‘dear Henry’.

  “But it will make Lord Challoner think even worse of me,” Michael commented doubtfully.

  “But how should he know?” Lady Maureen asked. “Men in formal evening attire all look exactly the same!”

  He thanked her and accepted her generous offer.

  To his relief the suit fitted him perfectly and when he looked in the glass he really seemed quite respectable.

  He began to wish that he had concealed his worries from Verna’s father until he discovered the worst.

  After all, when he did reach home, things might not be so bad.

  There was a gentle knock on the door and Verna stood there, looking glorious in a blue satin dress. About her neck was a grand necklace of diamonds and sapphires.

  “Papa told me to wear it,” she confided. “He said that you must be shown every courtesy.”

  “It’s beautiful, Verna.”

  At the back of his mind was the suspicion that Lord Challoner wanted to display his daughter’s wealth to make a point to her possibly impoverished suitor.

  “I want you to meet the rest of the family before Papa joins us,” continued Verna. “They are all gathered downstairs waiting for you.”

  She explained that she had three sisters, Mary and Maureen, who he had already met, and the baby of the family, nineteen-year-old Phoebe.

  “Papa is the most devoted father in the world,” Verna explained as they walked downstairs. “In fact, he finds it hard to part with any of us. We all have our own income, so he cannot actually prevent us marrying, but he can make it very difficult.”

  “I am completely astonished that he allowed you to drive to France,” observed Michael.

  “Ah, it’s because I appealed to his one weakness.”

  “I am astonished to discover he has any weakness!”

  “It’s his love of motoring and his pride in me as a driver. It overcomes all his prejudices against independent females. Even so he nearly gave way at the last minute.

  When I was sitting in the car, the engine running, he began to say, !on second thoughts I wonder if you – ”

  “But I shall never discove
r what he was wondering. Sensing danger, I sped away before he could finish!”

  She gave the delightful chuckle that always melted his heart and confessed,

  “You see what a terrible woman I am. When we’re married you’ll never have a moment’s peace. You should think carefully.”

  “As long as I have you for my wife, I shall care for nothing else,” he breathed vehemently.

  “And we shall be married very soon, so you’ll see. Now, give me your arm and let’s go downstairs.”

  The dining room was magnificent. Down the centre was an ornate table with equally ornate high-backed chairs.

  One quick look showed Michael that no expense or trouble had been spared to produce a fine display.

  Possibly Lord Challoner was showing him respect as a fellow Peer, but more likely he was making the point that this was the high life his lovely daughter was used to and her suitor should remember it.

  He was certain of it a few minutes later when Lord Challoner entered the room and studied Michael’s changed appearance.

  He did not utter a word, but Michael had an uneasy feeling that he recognised the clothes as belonging to his dead son-in-law.

  He took his seat at the head of the table and waved Michael to a seat at the opposite end.

  Nothing could have been more courteous or correct than the way Michael was treated. On Lord Challoner’s orders he was served first, as befitted the guest of honour.

  His host always addressed him as ‘Lord Belmont’, making it plain to the servants that this was a man of title and distinction. The footmen seemed duly impressed and bowed after they had served him.

  Again he had the uncomfortable feeling that Lord Challoner was silently telling him something.

  At last dinner was finished as the last course was cleared away.

  Lord Challoner gave a general smile and suggested,

  “If you ladies would now care to depart and leave the gentlemen to their port?”

  In a flurry of skirts they rose and left.

  Lord Challoner then nodded to the butler to pour the port into two glasses.

  It would have been simple for Michael to move to a seat nearer to his host, but no such suggestion was made.

  He seemed content to shout the length of the table, which seemed to grow longer with every minute.

  “So you fancy yourself in love with my daughter?”

  “I love her dearly, sir.”

  “After just a few days?”

  “I venture to hope that a few days is enough when my feelings are true. I dare to hope it is the same with her.”

  “She always was a headstrong girl. So you might deal well together.”

  A faint flicker of hope was now lit in Michael, which was swiftly extinguished with the next words.

  “But what sort of a life will she have with you, eh?”

  “She will be a Countess.”

  “To be sure. I’ve been watching you this evening. You know all the right things to say and do. I’ve no doubt you are who you say you are. Well enough. But my girl has to live in a way that is proper to her station in life. What do you offer besides a title, hmm?”

  “That I do not know, sir. But my father was well aware what was due to his name and whatever threats he made, I cannot believe he has carried them out.”

  “Then let us hope not. Otherwise you can forget all thought of marriage. Drink up and let’s join the ladies.”

  He rose as he spoke, leaving Michael no choice but to do the same.

  He was dismayed by the message he was receiving, and disgusted by his host’s lack of manners.

  But it might have been a lot worse, he reflected.

  He must go home quickly and discover how the land lies.

  They joined the ladies and spent an uncomfortable half hour making conversation about nothing.

  Then it was time for bed to everyone’s relief.

  As they were leaving, Verna contrived to hang back and seize Michael’s hand as he was leaving the room.

  “What did my father say?” she asked, drawing him back inside.

  “That there can be no marriage unless I can support you properly – ”

  Verna gave a cry, burying her face against him.

  “But we don’t have to heed him. I will decide who I marry, not Papa.”

  “My brave darling! But I don’t want you to make sacrifices for me. Somehow I must find a way to win his approval.”

  “And if he will not give it? How can I lose you? How can I live without you? Oh, Michael, what are we to do?”

  “I must return to my home tomorrow and see what has happened. Things may work out well.

  “I love you, my darling Verna, and I know you love me. But if your father is against me – how can I possibly leave you? How can I go on living unless I can see you, speak to you and tell you – how much I love you?”

  The words seemed to rush from his lips.

  Verna could hear the pain not only in his words but see it in his eyes.

  “I love you! I adore you!” she whispered. “If you have to find somewhere to work, whatever Papa may say to me, I will come and be with you.

  “I have money of my own and if necessary I will work too. If we are together, nothing else really matters.”

  Michael stiffened.

  “Do you really mean it, my darling?” he implored.

  “I cannot lose you and you must not leave me. Oh, Michael, let’s just run away and be married.”

  “How can you be so wonderful? How is it possible you love me so much that you would sacrifice everything to be with me?”

  “That is all I want, all I care for,” whispered Verna.

  Michael’s lips found hers.

  He kissed her until they were both breathless.

  At the same time, she felt as if she was giving him her heart and he was doing the same to her.

  “I love you desperately, Michael” she sighed.

  It was a little time later, when Michael had kissed her until it was impossible for them to be any closer.

  “Good night my darling, Verna, let us live in hope. I am sure it will all work out well for us.”

  He meant to be strong, but the sight of her and the feel of her in his arms was too much for him and suddenly he was kissing her again, passionately and ardently.

  Kissing her until she felt she had completely melted into his body and they were not two people but one.

  ‘I love you, Michael, I adore you!’ Verna tried to say, but his lips held hers captive.

  She could only think that she had given him not only her lips but her very heart too.

  “I will be waiting,” she said at last, breathlessly. “I will come with you – even if we have to hide in another part of the world. I love you! I belong to you and I want to be so much a part of you that no one could ever divide us or prevent us from being together.”

  “Nothing,” he echoed. “Nothing.”

  On that vow they parted.

  Later Michael lay in bed, gazing into the darkness and dreaming of the happiness that might be his – if only things went well tomorrow.

  *

  Next morning he rose early and went downstairs to breakfast. As he had hoped nobody else was there except for Verna.

  “I am going to drive you to your home, Michael.”

  “Won’t your father object?”

  “He won’t know if we leave quickly.”

  Michael fetched his suitcase while Verna collected the car from the garage and they drove off together.

  “There’s a village just a few miles on, called Little Denning,” Michael told her. “I will get out there and walk the last couple of miles.”

  “No, I can take you to your door.”

  “Better not. Besides I do think that you should go back quickly in case your father becomes angry.”

  She agreed reluctantly and a few minutes later they rolled into Little Denning. They stopped and Michael went to the boot to collect his case.

  “When
will I see you again, Michael?” she begged.

  “As soon as possible. I will come back as soon as I can. I adore and worship you, my darling Verna”

  She blew him a kiss, then drove away, leaving him standing in the road and looking after her, smiling with joy.

  After a few yards the road turned and, as she swung the car round the corner, Verna managed to look sideways to find Michael and as she hoped he was still watching her.

  She blew him another kiss and the next moment he was hidden from sight.

  Michael found his walk to his home more pleasant than he had feared.

  The sun was shining brightly, filling the world with light, making him feel contented.

  This was the countryside he had known as a child, where he had learned to ride and been part of a happy family.

  Trouble had come eventually, but he could still look back on those childhood days as a happy time especially when his mother had been alive.

  As he walked on, he began to hear the distant tinkle of a brook and knew that this was where he had played as a lad. Now and then he passed people in the road and they hailed him cheerfully.

  It was clear that they were glad to see him.

  Despite his reputation as a reprobate he had always been popular with the tenants and workers on the estate.

  His good nature and easy open-hearted generosity had seen to that. They remembered him as a kind-hearted boy, who had grown into a charming youth, always interested in the people who lived on the estate, despite his shortcomings.

  His father had been a pompous man, conscious of his status and swift to take offence if he was not treated with due reverence. His brother, Anthony, had a strong sense of duty, but not Michael’s friendly manner. So neither of them had won the affection of the locals, as had Michael – the black sheep of the family.

  As well as greetings they gave him interested looks and he guessed they knew he had come to claim his title.

  Of course, they would not know how deeply he had quarrelled with his father or the threat to disinherit him.

  As he walked on, his conviction grew that all would indeed be well.

  Papa would not have carried out his entire threat.

  He was Lord Belmont, heir to all the Belmont lands and privileges. Papa might have left much of the money to Anthony, but he was too conscious of the significance of being an Earl to have left his elder son destitute.