The Importance of Love Read online

  “Aunt, you are making me blush,” exclaimed Luella, putting down her spoon. “Besides, Lord Kennington is a most brilliant architect – of that I have no doubt.”

  When she spoke about him, Luella did not look directly at him and it hurt that she referred to him so formally. He loved to hear his name on her lips.

  “I shall be sorry to leave on Monday,” continued the Countess. “We shall go to London for a week – the coast should be clear and, no doubt, Frank Connolly will have given up chasing around trying to find us.”

  “You are quite welcome to stay as long as you like,” offered the Viscount.

  “Thank you, but we wish to return home after shopping in London. We have been away for long enough,” jumped in Luella.

  Her swift retort stung the Viscount and he resolved to speak with her alone as soon as he could.

  ‘She is obviously deeply offended by my sudden proposal,’ he thought, ‘and I do not wish her to feel as if I am another troublesome pest in her life.’

  As they retired to the drawing room the Viscount took Luella to one side. “Luella, I fear I have upset you by proposing,” he said, as the Countess tactfully left them alone.

  She flushed deep scarlet.

  “You have not,” she replied awkwardly. “I confess I was taken aback by you, but I do not find the idea out of the question. Just not yet awhile, that is all – ”

  The Viscount took her hand in his, ever so gently, and looked into her eyes.

  “Might I hope?”

  “Let me think on what you have said, David, and I promise I will give you an answer after I have returned home. I will need to consult Aunt Edith.”

  “Of course,” he answered eagerly. “Now, we should join her as she will be wondering where we are.”

  Luella turned and left the dining room.

  The Viscount paused for a moment and breathed deeply to calm himself.

  ‘She has not said no,’ he thought. ‘There is hope yet.’

  Later, as they finished their coffee, the Viscount announced that, rather than stay in a hotel, he proposed they should use his house in South Audley Street.

  “I shall telephone the servants and ask them to make the house ready for you,” he said. “Bennett will take you to the station in Barnstaple. I would not hear otherwise so please do not protest.”

  “Thank you, it is most kind of you,” said the Countess. “You will not want for anything while you are under my roof.”

  The Viscount shot a look at Luella and a surge of love filled his heart.

  ‘Please say yes,’ he urged her silently, as she chatted gaily with her aunt. ‘My life is utterly in your hands.’

  *

  It was with a heavy heart that the Viscount waved goodbye to the Countess and Luella the following Monday morning.

  Almost as soon as they left, Torr House felt enormous and empty.

  With a resigned sigh, he returned to his drawing board and worked as hard as he could. The builders were due later that week and there was no time to spare.

  The Countess enjoyed her ride in the Daimler immensely and remarked to Luella that she might consider buying such a machine once they had returned to Scotland.

  “Think of all the day trips we can make to the Highlands,” she mused.

  “And I do not wish to sit and grow old without something to look forward to.”

  Luella laughed as the Countess sat beaming in the passenger seat.

  They both felt incredibly sad to leave Torr House.

  Luella found she had a lump in her throat as they reached the end of the drive, as she realised that she would not see the Viscount again for a long while.

  *

  And whilst they were boarding the train to Exeter and onwards to London, in a small Duke Street hotel, Frank Connolly was registering himself as a guest.

  “How long will you be staying with us, Mr. Connolly?” asked the clerk.

  “I don’t know. Perhaps a week, perhaps longer.”

  “Very well, sir. Now, if you will follow the porter, he will see that you are settled into your room. I hope you have a pleasant stay.”

  Frank Connolly grunted with ill humour.

  He had no intention of having a pleasant stay. He had one matter on his mind – and one only.

  Once inside he dropped his bag to the floor and cast a perfunctory glance around the room. He then went straight out again.

  It was a rainy day in London and for July a trifle chilly. Frank Connolly buttoned up his coat with its old-fashioned caped shoulders against the drizzle and bent his head low as he made his way to Marylebone High Street.

  There in a quiet side street he entered an open doorway and ascended the grubby stairs. Outside, the brass plaque read Henry Jones, Private Detective.

  At the top of the stairs, he twisted the black doorknob and entered. A secretary asked his name and bade him sit down.

  A few moments later, he was in Mr. Jones’s office, showing him a photograph of Luella.

  “I want you to find my – sister-in-law at all costs,” he began and then adjusted his tone when he saw the look on Mr. Jones’s face. “She disappeared months ago and has come into an inheritance that she knows nothing about and I have been charged to find her. My late brother would have wished it.”

  “It will not be cheap, Mr. Connolly,” said Mr. Jones, taking the photograph and examining it. “But she is a fine-looking woman. Should not be too hard to track her down. A toff, you say?”

  “I have reason to believe that she is travelling with the Countess of Ridgeway.”

  “Then, we shall find her, rest assured, Mr. Connolly. At this time of year the nobs desert London, so if she’s here, I’ll soon track her down.”

  “Spare no expense,” said Frank Connolly, as he put on his hat and rose to leave. “She must be found at any cost.” As he descended the stairs, he felt a sense of growing satisfaction.

  ‘She will not be able to hide for much longer and I have ascertained that they have yet to return to Scotland, so they can only be in London,’ he murmured. ‘If Jones is as good as his reputation states, then, Luella Ridgeway, wherever you are, I shall discover your whereabouts and claim you!’

  Rubbing his hands together in glee he emerged onto the street with something approaching a smile on his face.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Luella and the Countess arrived at Paddington station late that night exhausted from their long and arduous journey.

  They were surprised to find that the Viscount had arranged for them to be met by his large and gleaming phaeton.

  “These cannot be the Viscount’s footmen,” whispered Luella, as she helped her aunt settle into the carriage. “Did he not say that only two servants remained in his London home? He must have hired them especially for the occasion.”

  “He is, indeed, a generous man,” commented the Countess. “But that is hardly surprising considering he is a man in love – ”

  “Aunt!”

  Luella blushed to the roots of her hair and cast her eyes downwards as Aunt Edith continued,

  “But I am right, am I not? He is in love with you.”

  Luella looked down at her gloves and bit her bottom lip.

  “He has asked me to marry him.”

  “Then, why, my dear girl, did you not accept? I am assuming that you did not, otherwise he would have come to speak with me.”

  “I cannot and you know the reasons why.”

  “I know of one reason why you believe yourself not worthy of him and I hope the other was not me. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself and going back to Scotland on my own.”

  “Aunt, I would not hear of it. But you are right about the other reason.”

  “The shadow of Jean-Marie Bouillicault still casts a shadow over you even now, nearly a year later?”

  The Countess shook her head and took Luella’s hand in hers.

  “Luella, dearest, it was not your fault what happened.”

  “But I was engaged to him
after a whirlwind romance that would have caused a scandal as it was. And, worse still, I ran away with him only to find that he was already married to another! How foolish will David think me? In addition, he will view me as second-hand goods.”

  “Darling, everyone knows that your virtue was never compromised by him. I would vouch for your purity. Besides, no one in England has heard of him and you were not named in the French newspapers, so what is there to worry about?”

  “I think he will no longer love me if he discovers the truth,” she sighed.

  “And do you love him?” asked her aunt. “I can see that something has been troubling you deeply and I have been wondering – ”

  “Oh, yes,” replied Luella fervently. “It was only when we were on the train that I realised just how much. I did not expect it to be such a wrench to leave him. But, with each passing mile, I felt distressed to no longer be with him.”

  “Then, do not hesitate, darling, seize your chance of happiness.”

  “Excuse me, my Lady. We are here.”

  The carriage had come to a halt and the footman was on the pavement, holding open the door.

  Luella looked up at the elegant house with its walls of red London brick and black-framed windows.

  An electric light burned in the hall of number 23, South Audley Street and Luella could see a butler waiting for them.

  “Welcome, Miss Ridgeway. My Lady. My name is Bellamy,” he said bowing to them. “If you would come this way, you will be shown straight to your rooms.”

  Luella was delighted to find that she had been given a large room with a comfortable bathroom. She was so tired, she did not bother to unpack. Instead she undressed, put on her nightdress and went straight to bed.

  ‘I wonder where Frank Connolly is?’ she asked herself as she drifted off. ‘But I feel so safe beneath the Viscount’s roof, I really must stop worrying.’

  *

  At the same time in Torr House, Hoskin, found his Master pacing the bedroom when he entered with a glass of water.

  “Will that be all, my Lord?”

  “Thank you, yes.”

  Hoskin closed the door and left the Viscount alone with his thoughts. Taking his candle to the mirror, he held up the long blonde hair that he had found on the back of the sofa and admired it as if it was a holy relic.

  ‘Luella,’ he muttered. ‘I would have not believed how much I could miss you already.’

  *

  The next few days were highly enjoyable for Luella and the Countess.

  The Viscount’s carriage was totally at their disposal and they took a great many trips in it – Bond Street, Knightsbridge, Kew Gardens and the museums at South Kensington, to name but a few.

  At first, they did not pay any heed to the man in the bowler hat and checked overcoat, who lingered in the shadows wherever they went.

  He watched as they emerged from a fashionable Bond Street couturier and noted down the time, and he stood silently in a doorway as they left Harrods, burdened down with packages.

  He wrote down everything he saw until he was satisfied that he had garnered enough information to report back to his client.

  Mr. Jones sent a message to Frank Connolly’s hotel and asked him to come to his office at once. Barely two hours later, he was at the door, impatiently pacing around the waiting room.

  “Mr. Jones will not be much longer,” said the secretary, after he had demanded for the third time in fifteen minutes to see the detective.

  At last the door opened and Mr. Jones’s previous client emerged. Before he had put his hat on and left, Frank Connolly had barged his way into the inner office.

  “You said you had something for me. Well, what is it?”

  His watery eyes bulged and his ruddy face wore an air of expectation.

  “There have been positive sightings of the ladies in question,” Mr. Jones informed him. “Shopping at Harrods yesterday afternoon, for example.”

  “Do you expect me to lounge around Harrods all day on the off-chance of finding them? I need an address of where they are staying.”

  “Mr. Connolly, your, erhem, sister-in-law appears to be travelling around London in a rather fine and speedy carriage. I am afraid that I have not, as yet, been able to discover their exact location – ”

  “Well, get on to it, man! It is most urgent that I speak with Miss Ridgeway. You do not seem to understand.”

  Mr. Jones eyed the red-faced man who now leaned over the desk at him. He did not care for this client in the least and he was certain that the lady he was stalking was not his sister-in-law at all.

  But it was not his business to ask questions when the client was paying so handsomely for his services.

  Frank Connolly pulled a large denomination note out of his pocket and threw it on the desk in front of Mr. Jones.

  “Is this enough? Find them before the end of the week and you shall receive another of these. Whatever it costs, I will pay. But find her.”

  He spun on his heel and left the office. Mr. Jones let out a sigh of relief as he folded the note into four and tucked it into his wallet.

  He had his suspicions who the expensive carriage belonged to, but first he wanted to be sure.

  He waited for a while and then, picking up his bowler hat from the coat stand, he informed his secretary that he would be out for the rest of the day.

  His destination was only a short walk to the other side of Oxford Street and he would have to hurry if he was to catch his prey returning from an afternoon out.

  ‘These ladies are creatures of habit,’ he murmured, as he walked quickly along James Street. ‘They should be returning any time now.’

  *

  Luella and the Countess climbed down from their carriage with a sense of exhaustion. They had visited all the most famous galleries in London and had taken tea at the Ritz.

  Now with aching feet, they were looking forward to a quiet evening and one of Mrs. Bellamy’s delicious meals.

  As Luella helped her aunt down the carriage steps, she glanced across the road and noticed a man in a bowler hat hanging around near a tree.

  “Do you know, Aunt Edith, I am certain we saw that man in Harrods yesterday afternoon, and he was in Hyde Park when we went for our walk the other morning. Do you recall how I remarked about him and joked that he was following us?”

  Even though she attempted to make a joke of it, Luella was deathly pale. There was only one thought in her mind as to who might be responsible – and that was Frank Connolly.

  The Countess stood on the pavement and put her lorgnette to her eye.

  “Why, you are right, Luella, and I do believe he is up to no good.”

  Before Luella could stop her, the Countess was striding across the road waving her umbrella menacingly.

  “You sir,” she called. “Be off with you or I will call the Police. I have your description and do not think for a moment that I am a frail old woman who will not carry out her threat.”

  Mr. Jones quickly ran down the street. He knew a formidable woman when he saw one. The Countess followed him for a few yards before she judged that she had chased him away.

  ‘No harm done,’ he told himself, as he sped around the corner. ‘That is the Countess of Ridgeway all right and they are staying at Lord Kennington’s place, just as I suspected. Mr. Connolly will be pleased – very pleased indeed.’

  The Countess was quite out of breath by the time she returned to the house. She had only given chase for a few yards, but had thoroughly enjoyed every moment.

  Luella, however, was in the drawing room, sobbing her heart out.

  “He has found us! He has found us!” she moaned, wringing her handkerchief. “That man is a private detective. I know it.”

  “He has been sent packing now,” crowed the Countess proudly. “But I think we should curtail our stay in London and pack our boxes tonight. It is a pity, but Frank Connolly has ruined what was a very pleasant interlude.”

  “We cannot go to Scotland – it is the
first place he will come looking for us.” “What do you suggest?”

  “Can we not return to Torr House? You could telephone Lord Kennington and beg him to give us sanctuary once again.”

  The Countess thought for a moment and then, quietly asked Bellamy to put in a telephone call to Torr House.

  “Please fetch me as soon as the exchange puts you through,” she said, returning to the drawing room to comfort Luella as best she could.

  Ten minutes later the telephone in the hall rang and Bellamy came in to inform them that their call had been connected.

  “His Lordship is on the line, my Lady, and is waiting to speak with you.”

  The Countess quickly outlined their predicament to the Viscount.

  “Frank Connolly has engaged a private detective to track us down and he has succeeded in locating us. Might we impose upon your hospitality again and return to Devon?

  I do not think he could find us there.”

  “And Luella?”

  “She is distraught as you can imagine.”

  “Oh, my poor darling!” The Countess smiled to herself as she thought, ‘I am right in thinking that the Viscount is deeply in love with Luella. He will not spurn her when she tells him her secret.’

  “Lord Kennington, it is not safe for us to remain here.”

  “Then, you must make all haste back to Devon. Will you instruct Bellamy to have your things packed and the carriage made ready? He must also find out what time the next train leaves Paddington for Exeter and I will have Bennett pick you up. Just tell Bellamy to inform me of the time you expect your train to arrive.”

  “Thank you, Lord Kennington. You do not know how grateful we are to you.”

  “It will be a long journey, but there is not a moment to lose,” replied the Viscount, anxiety creeping into his deep voice. “If Frank Connolly really has discovered where you are, he will be relentless. In the meantime tell the servants not to admit anyone to the house and any callers are to be told that you have left for Scotland. If needs be, we must send him on a wild goose chase.”

  The Countess replaced the telephone on the stand and returned to the drawing room where Luella sat still crying.