This Way to Heaven Page 8

  Desperately she looked around for help, but there was no one in sight.

  Well, promise or no promise, this was definitely an emergency and Jasmina could not leave the child lying on the ice. She could be badly injured.

  Without thinking twice, she pushed herself out onto the cold lake and started to skate cautiously across to the motionless victim.

  *

  The Earl was sitting at the great leather-topped desk in his study pretending to work.

  In his shirtsleeves and waistcoat he had a sheaf of important documents spread out in front of him. These were the secret Government papers he had brought downstairs with him from the hiding place in the ruined East Turret.

  He tried to read them aware that if they fell into the wrong hands they could cause endless trouble abroad, especially in the powder keg countries of the Balkans.

  The Earl realised that he should be concentrating on the notes and comments he had been asked to make based on the information he had been given, but his mind kept wandering away.

  A pair of vivid blue eyes, cascading golden curls and a lovely but determined face just insisted on invading his thoughts.

  A quiet tap on the door interrupted the pictures in his head and he thankfully called out,

  “Come in!”

  Mary appeared.

  “Excuse me for interrupting you, my Lord, but will you be joining Miss Winfield for luncheon, or do you want yours to be served in here? If you wish to lunch in company, I will arrange for the meal to be served in the small dining room.”

  The Earl pushed back his chair.

  “Where would Miss Winfield go to eat otherwise?” he asked dryly. “On the stairs? In the kitchen?”

  Mary flushed.

  “Of course not, my Lord. I will arrange for her to have a tray in her room.”

  The Earl hesitated.

  He found to his total astonishment that he wanted nothing more than to sit opposite his young houseguest and talk to her about anything and everything that came into his mind.

  But they had not parted on the best of terms earlier that morning and he had no doubt that she would prefer her own company at luncheon.

  “A tray will do very well for both of us, I am sure, Mary,” he said at last. “I see no reason for the staff to go to the trouble of heating the dining room and laying up a table.”

  Mary dropped him a short curtsy and left the room sighing.

  Didn’t the silly man realise that the servants would have been thrilled to have had something to do!

  Mrs. Rush for one was becoming more and more irritated that her great culinary skills were no longer being appreciated.

  Serving luncheon on two trays was not making any good use of such a fine cook.

  The Earl was prowling around his study, picking up a book here, putting it down elsewhere, spinning the great globe until it squeaked and then slapping it shut with the palm of his hand.

  He traced with his finger the outline of the United States of America and quickly found the City of St. Louis in Missouri.

  It was right in the very heart of the country, a very very long way from England.

  And soon Jasmina would be returning home and become no more than a memory, as he would to her no doubt. And not a very pleasant one!

  He crossed to the window and gazed out.

  Then he swore under his breath and strode furiously from the room not even stopping to pull on a jacket over his shirt sleeves.

  In the distance he had caught sight of a familiar figure skating off across the deserted lake. Jasmina had defied him once more and was setting out onto the ice!

  *

  Jasmina skated slowly and carefully across the ice, aware that in places the colour of the ice was bluer and less solid, a sure sign that the water was not completely frozen.

  When she reached the crumpled figure, she gasped.

  A little face looked up from under the scarlet hood.

  It was Florence, the young maid who had tended to the fire in her bedroom that very morning.

  “Florence! Are you hurt, child? No, don’t move. Let me see.”

  “Oh, madam, oh, dear. My ankle’s got all twisted. Oh, it ’urts me somethin’ real bad. Miss Landrey will be that cross with me. Oh!”

  Her lament turned into a shriek as the ice beneath her, warmed by her little body gave a sudden crack.

  Jasmina caught her breath and tried to lift the girl, but she was too heavy.

  “Florence, can you wriggle sideways – towards me. You must get off that piece of ice at once.”

  “I can’t move my leg, madam! I’m tryin’. Oh, I’m ever so sorry. It be my afternoon off and I wanted to tell my Dad about you and America. Oh, my leg ’urts so bad. Oh, did you ’ear that crack? Leave me, madam. The ice is goin’ to break. You’ll go under too! Oh, whatever will his Lordship say?”

  “Never mind his Lordship,” Jasmina grunted grimly and flung herself flat on the ice, trying to spread her weight evenly over the wicked surface.

  She knew that little Florence would have no chance if she was tipped into the freezing water. Nor would she, of course, but that was the furthest thought from her mind.

  “Florence, now listen to me carefully! I am going to stretch out my hands and you must try to take hold of them and let me pull you towards me.”

  The little girl was sobbing now, but she tried to turn and reach for Jasmina.

  But her thick coat was obstructing her and Jasmina cried out in horror, as another loud cracking noise sounded and thin lines in the ice began to appear around Florence.

  “Whatever you do, don’t move! You’ll go through the ice. Let me pass,” a familiar voice called frantically.

  Jasmina gasped.

  She had been concentrating so hard on the maid that she had not heard the swish of a sledge on the ice behind her.

  The Earl was lying full-length on his stomach on a long wooden sledge.

  He managed to manoeuvre it around Jasmina and with a huge pull from his strong arms the little maid came slipping and sliding across the perilous ice to safety.

  Later Jasmina could not remember clearly how they escaped from the lake.

  She was vaguely conscious of the Earl leaping up and throwing himself and Florence towards the thicker ice as the wooden frame underneath him began to sink into the spongy surface.

  The sledge was abandoned to its fate as the ice gave way finally and the inky black waters swallowed it up.

  Carrying Florence under one arm and with a hand ready to steady Jasmina in case she should slip, the Earl brought them both back to shore.

  Jasmina could only just recall the sight of Mary and Fergus standing horrified at the edge of the lake, ready to take Florence from the Earl and rush her back to the castle.

  “Are you all right, Miss Winfield?” asked the Earl.

  She nodded.

  Her teeth were chattering too much to speak at first, but then she said,

  “I am only cold and wet. My Lord, you are still in your shirt-sleeves! You will take pneumonia if you don’t change into something warm.”

  The Earl ignored her.

  “Sit on that bench and let me take off your boots,” he ordered sternly. “Your fingers are blue with cold and you will never manage the laces on your own.”

  Jasmina did as she was told and sat gazing at the dark head by her knee as he knelt in the snow, tugging at the laces that were swollen and jammed by ice and water.

  “You have saved both our lives today, my Lord,” she whispered at last. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. And I can only imagine how grateful that child’s parents will be when they hear of her lucky escape.”

  The Earl glanced at her, his eyes dark with anger.

  “I would not have needed to save anyone if the promise you made me this morning had been kept, madam! As for Florence, I expect that, if you had not interfered, she would have managed to crawl to safety. She is very light and her weight alone would not have broken the ice.”

&n
bsp; Jasmina caught her breath.

  He was accusing her of contributing to the maid’s plight.

  “I don’t expect you to believe me, but although I admit I did bring my skates down to the lake, I had decided firmly against venturing onto the ice purely out of courtesy to your Lordship.

  “But when I saw her stranded, I could never have left Florence to her fate. The ice was already giving way when I reached her. Surely you must be able to see that I had no alternative?”

  The Earl turned his attention to the other boot.

  He could feel his temper rising again.

  Jasmina Winfield would never know how terrified he had felt when he could see her lying on the ice, reaching towards his maid, the cracks in the ice radiating out from around their bodies.

  He had thought she would drown and had known then that his feelings towards this young American woman, although confused ran extremely deep.

  He seemed to spend so much of their time together being angry with her, when all he really wanted to do was kiss her!

  “Of course, if you tell me that is what happened, I would never dream of disbelieving you,” he said, his voice stiff and formal as at last the final knot in the laces gave way.

  Jasmina kicked off her skates and hurriedly thrust her cold feet into the walking shoes she had left under the bench.

  She picked up her skates and shivered violently.

  The afternoon was drawing to a close and the cold snow-laden wind from the moors began to blow once more across the valley.

  “If you will excuse me, my Lord, I will go inside. I can only thank you again for saving my life for the second time.

  “Let us both hope that soon the pass to Debbingford will be open and I can continue my journey to my cousins. I am sure you will be only too pleased to have your castle to yourself once more!”

  And with a toss of her golden head she turned and marched away back up the path.

  The Earl watched her go uncaring of the freezing wet shirt clinging to his body.

  There was bravery in every step she took and he realised that he would never forget the sight of her trying to rescue the little housemaid.

  Suddenly he recognised that he really did believe what she had told him – that she had not meant to break her promise.

  And he knew she was too fine, too honourable to tell him otherwise.

  For the first time in many years, Richard, the Earl of Somerton felt ashamed of his boorish behaviour.

  *

  Back in the castle, Jasmina asked a maid for a bath to be prepared with water as hot as possible.

  She soaked herself in the bath for a good twenty minutes and was drying her hair in front of her bedroom fire when Mary knocked at the door and entered bearing a note on a silver tray.

  Puzzled, Jasmina read it,

  “Dear Miss Winfield,

  I must apologise for my ungentlemanly behaviour earlier. I have a great deal on my mind, but that is no excuse to offend a visitor to my country, especially one as brave as you. Please accept this as an invitation to dine with me tonight.”

  And it was signed,

  “Richard Somerton.”

  Jasmina turned to look up at Mary, her sapphire eyes sparkling and her wet locks clinging to her cheeks in little curls.

  “The Earl has just invited me to dine with him this evening!”

  Mary smiled.

  “So I understand, madam. And quite right, too, you being a guest under his roof.”

  Jasmina crossed over to the dressing table, briskly rubbing her hair with a thick towel that smelt of lavender.

  Reflected in the cheval mirror she could see Mary hesitating in the doorway, almost as if reluctant to leave the room.

  “I wonder, would you help me get ready, Mary?” Jasmina asked impulsively. “I appreciate that it is not your job, but I am not sure if I can cope with my unruly mane alone.

  “I could ask one of the maids, but I’m not sure if they have experience of putting up long hair for an evening and I do want to do justice to the Earl’s invitation. If you are not too busy with other duties, of course.”

  Mary smiled at her, the frown lines between her eyes vanishing.

  She liked this young American and, more than that, she liked the effect she was having on the Earl.

  This was the first time Mary had known him show an interest in anything except for his silly old Government papers for a long time.

  Even if it was only dinner, it was a start to getting him out of the clouds of despair he had been living in since his wife died.

  “I would be delighted to help, madam. I used to do her Ladyship’s hair every evening and I daresay I have not lost the knack.”

  Jasmina was tempted just for a moment to ask Mary about Millicent and then stopped.

  She would have had no qualms in doing so back home in America, but she felt that it would not be tactful in these surroundings.

  Jasmina smiled.

  “There are dresses in that trunk, Mary, but anything suitable for dinner tonight with his Lordship must surely be creased.”

  “I will attend to it immediately, madam.”

  Mary opened the largest trunk and began taking out the clothes and laying them carefully on the bed.

  It was lovely to drink in the vivid colours, touch the expensive fabrics, the luxurious silks and velvets.

  There were evening dresses in pink, pale blue and white with matching shoes and gloves.

  It had been a long time since such beautiful clothes had been on show at Somerton Castle.

  “Which one will you wear, Miss Winfield?”

  Jasmina was about to reply, then in the mirror she noticed the way Mary was stroking the velvet of one of her skirts and so she smiled to herself and pretended to fiddle with her hairbrush.

  “Oh, you decide!” she said in an offhand tone. “I am sure you will know which one is the most appropriate. My jewellery box is in one of the trunks as well. We must choose something very suitable for this occasion, although I confess I don’t own that many diamonds or emeralds to adorn myself with!”

  She began brushing out her hair again, feeling a surge of excitement course through her veins.

  This was a momentous occasion.

  She was to dine all alone with the Earl of Somerton, the man who constantly invaded her thoughts and dreams, the man who had saved her life twice.

  Jasmina remembered her last day at Harley Grange as she had looked out of the window at Somerton Castle.

  She recalled listening to the Duchess’s gossip and wishing that she could meet the Earl who sounded such a romantic tragic figure!

  Well, she had met him and now she was going to spend an evening in his company.

  This surely was the most important day of her life!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  At eight-thirty precisely that evening the Earl was standing with a glass of sherry in his hand in the drawing room of Somerton Castle.

  He had hesitated before donning his dinner jacket, but finally decided that the occasion merited it.

  When the door opened and Jasmina Winfield was announced, he felt a thrill run through him and he was glad that he had made the effort.

  The American girl looked superb.

  In point of fact he could hardly recognise her from the figure wrapped in coats and shawls he had argued with so vehemently only an hour or two ago on the banks of the frozen lake.

  Her shining golden curls were piled on top of her head in a very elaborate style laced through with dark pink ribbons. Her dress was matching dark pink velvet, slightly off the shoulder, but fitting tightly into her tiny waist.

  She was wearing a gold and pearl link necklace and bracelet and tiny gold and pearl studs in her ears.

  The Earl found himself wondering how she would look with rubies and diamonds against her creamy skin.

  Then he shook himself.

  This was madness!

  The girl was just a passing guest at the castle and an annoying one at that!

/>   Very soon she would be heading off to be with her relations in the next valley and later she would be returning to her home in America.

  This dinner was just by way of an apology for his abrupt behaviour earlier – nothing more.

  “Miss Winfield!”

  He reached out to take her hand in his, aware of the strength in her fingers that looked so fragile.

  “Let me pour you a glass of sherry. I hope that you have fully recovered from your adventures on the ice?”

  “Could we dispense with the formality, my Lord? I am sure there is no one around who would be offended if you called me ‘Jasmina’.”

  His dark eyes gleamed suddenly with amusement.

  “My ancestors would be shocked and I am certain that the servants would disapprove, but if I am to call you ‘Jasmina’, then you must use my name – ‘Richard’.”

  “Yes, my Lord – I mean Richard!”

  As she smiled up at him, the blue of her eyes took his breath away.

  “It was kind of you to accept my invitation to dine. I could not have blamed you if you decided never to speak to me again after my boorish behaviour earlier.”

  Jasmina blushed and sipped her sherry.

  She was sure it was the alcohol that was making her heart beat so fast. She was not used to anything stronger than champagne.

  “I am sure you were only trying to protect me. But I am afraid American girls are not like English ones. We are trained to look after ourselves and stand on our own two feet.”

  The Earl smiled.

  “I am rapidly becoming more and more aware of the character of young American women, Jasmina! But I am afraid it is bred into me to protect the fairer sex at all costs.”

  She smiled and asked,

  “Have you heard how Florence is progressing?”

  “Indeed, I had a report a few minutes ago that she is well on the way to recovery. Her leg was badly twisted, but she has youth on her side and will soon be up and about again.”

  Just then the door opened and Mary appeared.

  “Dinner is served, my Lord,” she murmured.

  The Earl held out his arm and with a smile, Jasmina placed her hand on his wrist and walked with him through the connecting doors into the castle dining room.

  She gave a little scream of delight.