The Importance of Love Read online

  “It is all in order,” she told her. “Bellamy is having our boxes packed and the carriage made ready. I suggest that we leave via the mews at the rear so that if, by any chance, the front of the house is being watched, we shall depart undetected.”

  “How can you be certain that he will not attempt to creep up on us there?”

  “Luella, for all his airs, Frank Connolly is a rather stupid and unsophisticated individual. It should not be difficult to outwit him. Now, come, we must get ready and quickly.”

  But Luella, rather than flying upstairs, remained rooted to the spot.

  “I – cannot.”

  “Luella, you must. We cannot remain here. If that man is employed by Frank Connolly, then he will have gone straight to inform him of our whereabouts. We must make haste.”

  Luella stared at her in utter misery. Her face was blotched and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

  “I do not think I can face another flight from him. Perhaps it would be better if I simply succumbed and married him.”

  “Luella! You must not say such things!” cried her aunt, drawing herself up to her full height. “I will not hear of it. What the Viscount said to me just now on the telephone has left me in no doubt that he is deeply in love with you. Dearest, you have a chance for happiness – you must endure the present difficulties, I beg you.”

  Luella remained on the sofa, uncertain what to do. She knew she loved the Viscount, but Frank Connolly had all but beaten the fight out of her.

  “I am so tired of fleeing from him,” she murmured, shaking her head. “So very tired.”

  “This will be your last flight, I promise you,” coaxed Aunt Edith. “Now, come with me and wash your face. We shall stay upstairs if you feel safer, but I am certain that Bellamy will not let anyone past the front door.”

  Eventually Luella allowed herself to be led upstairs.

  “We must take only the bare necessities with us,” said the Countess. “I will have Bellamy arrange for the remainder to be sent directly to Scotland. It might provide a useful decoy for us, if this detective sees our luggage being taken off to King’s Cross and not Paddington.”

  Once she had been persuaded, it did not take Luella long to pack some things into a suitcase and wait for Bellamy to tell them it was time to leave.

  “The driver is ready for you, my Lady.”

  Bellamy was a big burly man and as he stood in the doorway he seemed to fill it. The Countess reckoned that he would more than acquit himself favourably should Frank Connolly become physically violent.

  “Thank you, Bellamy. I shall tell Lord Kennington how kind you have been.”

  “It is nothing, my Lady. You are guests in his Lordship’s house and he would expect me to do nothing less than I have already done.” They were halfway down the back stairs when there came a terrible knocking on the front door.

  They froze in their steps as the noise echoed throughout the house.

  Bellamy looked at the Countess whose face wore a grim expression. She knew the knocking could mean only one thing. Frank Connolly had found them.

  “Quickly, my Lady. If we get down the stairs to the kitchen, I will go and open the front door. I shall enjoy sending this man packing.”

  Bellamy led them through the scullery and out into the yard. Luella could hear the horses snorting as soon as they were outside and they hurried towards the carriage.

  “Let me in, you bounder.”

  Frank Connolly’s harsh voice was so loud that it could be heard in the mews at the rear of the house. Luella froze as it echoed along the quiet street.

  “Luella, Bellamy will take care of him. Get into the carriage now.”

  The Countess was gentle but firm. She took her niece by the arm and steered her up the steps and into the phaeton’s welcoming interior of comfortably upholstered velvet and polished wooden beading.

  Meanwhile Bellamy was relishing every second as he stood in the hall and waited for the appropriate moment to open the front door.

  Frank Connolly’s hammering was ever more insistent as he straightened his jacket and passed one spade-like hand over his hair.

  Pushing down the latch, he opened the door. He towered over the rather short and dumpy Frank Connolly, who was by now purple with rage.

  “Where is she? I know she’s in there. Step aside, man, and let me pass.”

  “I am sorry, sir, but I cannot admit you. There is no one at home.”

  “Nonsense, Luella is here, I know she is. I demand to see her!”

  “There is no lady of that name in this house at this precise moment,” said Bellamy truthfully. “They left for Scotland an hour or so ago.”

  Frank Connolly was taken aback.

  His mind whirled as he tried to think. Had not Jones said he had seen them at the house that afternoon at about five thirty? How could they be on their way to Scotland?

  “You are lying, man, now fetch her at once, you bounder!”

  Bellamy stood in the doorway so that he blocked the electric light in the passage and filled the frame. Puffing out his chest he spoke quietly, but firmly,

  “Sir, they are not here. Now, I suggest you leave quietly and at once, otherwise I shall telephone the Police.”

  “Will you now?”

  Frank Connolly squared up to the huge butler and looked him straight in the eye.

  “Is everything all right, sir?”

  Frank Connolly spun round to find himself staring straight at two Policemen who stood on the street behind him. His mouth fell open and words would not come.

  “I am glad you are here, Officers,” said Bellamy in a voice like liquid silk. “This gentleman is being aggressive and unpleasant. He is threatening to gain forceful entry into Lord Kennington’s house while he is away.”

  The two Policemen did not hesitate. They flanked him and, with one swift movement, clapped a pair of handcuffs on him before he knew what was happening.

  “If you’ll just come down to the Station with us, sir.”

  Bellamy smiled and nodded appreciatively. Had he been forced to do so, he would have restrained Frank Connolly in any manner he saw necessary. The timely intervention of the two Police Officers was a great stroke of fortune.

  “Come along, sir, do not resist arrest.”

  Within moments, Frank Connolly was being marched back down South Audley Street, protesting all the while at the top of his voice.

  As they crossed into Mount Street, the carriage containing Luella and her aunt rounded the opposite corner. Frank Connolly paid them no heed, being too furious with the Policemen who were frogmarching him towards the Police Station.

  “Well. Good riddance to Frank Connolly. Hopefully we have seen the last of him,” exclaimed the Countess with thinly disguised relief.

  “We are still going to Devon though aren’t we?” asked Luella timidly.

  “Of course, child. We cannot remain in London. No, we will take the train to Exeter. But for now Frank Connolly has got his just desserts!”

  *

  Much later, when they were safely ensconced on the train, Luella began to mull over in her mind what she would say to the Viscount.

  ‘He will inevitably ask me if I have considered his proposal, but how can I accept without telling him the whole truth?’

  She cast a glance at Aunt Edith who was asleep in the seat opposite. The day’s events had taken their toll and she suddenly looked shockingly old.

  Although nearly seventy, she had seemed so young to Luella up until that moment. As she looked at her aunt’s grey face and sagging skin, she realised with a shock that she might not be around for ever.

  ‘And she would hate not to see my wedding.’

  That thought troubled Luella a great deal – she knew that it was her aunt’s greatest wish to see her walk down the aisle and now she had the opportunity to grant it, should she be brave enough to do so.

  ‘It would mean telling him everything,’ she murmured, as tears sprang into her eyes. ‘But I cannot k
eep dragging Aunt Edith all over the country and I have come to realise how much I love David.’

  The train rattled on through the night lulling her to sleep. As the wheels turned and brought them ever closer to Devon, Luella made a momentous decision.

  ‘No, I have to tell him about Jean-Marie,’ she resolved. ‘And tell him everything.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Luella remained silent for a good portion of the journey. She was too busy rehearsing in her head what she would say to the Viscount.

  ‘I wish I was as certain as Aunt Edith that David will understand about my liaison with Jean-Marie Bouillicault,’ she thought. ‘Men are so particular about the virtue of women and they expect those of our kind to be of flawless character. Will he think me a bad woman for having loved someone else – and to have run away with him intending to get married?’

  Just before they reached Exeter, Luella awakened her aunt and helped her make herself ready for the next stage of their journey.

  “Come along, Aunt Edith,” she urged. “I am afraid there will be no more sleep until we reach Torr House.”

  “I do hope that Bennett brings some large cushions,” she replied. “The Daimler can be a little uncomfortable – do you remember the journey to Barnstaple?”

  “Yes,” answered Luella with a little laugh. She was trying her best to remain cheerful and she did not want her aunt worrying unduly about her.

  ‘It should be the other way around,’ thought Luella. ‘She is an old woman and I should be taking care of her. I forget how old she is because she is so sprightly. It is not right that, because of Frank Connolly, she has been forced to be the strong one.’

  Luella was neither delicate of constitution nor weak of mind or body, but the whole business with Jean-Marie Bouillicault and then Frank Connolly had considerably depleted her.

  She longed for stability and to be taken care of, and she knew that the Viscount could offer her both.

  The train eventually pulled into Exeter station and the guard helped them find a porter to carry their small amount of luggage.

  As promised Bennett was waiting for them on the platform.

  “Good evening, my Lady and Miss Ridgeway,” he said bowing. “Welcome to Devon again – and, so soon.”

  “Yes, I am afraid it was not planned, but nevertheless, here we are,” said the Countess, as brightly as she could, given that she was exhausted.

  They trooped out of the station to where the Daimler was waiting for them.

  The porter helped with the two suitcases and then Bennett settled his two passengers into their seats and threw blankets over their knees.

  The car was open to the elements but, thankfully, it was a fine and warm July night.

  The drive to Bideford was long and arduous.

  The dawn broke as they reached the westerly outskirts of Exmoor and by the time that Torr House came into view, the sun was rising.

  Everywhere was deadly quiet apart from the lowing of cows on the hillside nearby and a distant cockerel crowing.

  Luella looked at the house and it seemed unlikely that the Viscount was up yet.

  ‘I doubt if even the servants are awake,’ she mumbled, as the car shook them from side to side, negotiating the rough drive that led to the front entrance.

  The Countess groaned as they hit a large pothole and the car flew up in the air, landing with a bone-shaking thud.

  When Bennett finally applied the handbrake, both Luella and the Countess breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘If I am aching, I cannot imagine how Aunt Edith must feel,’ thought Luella, as Bennett helped her out of the Daimler.

  They were all dusty and tired. How Bennett appeared so lively was beyond her comprehension.

  Luella was shocked to see the Viscount striding out of the front door towards them. His shirt was flapping loose over his trousers and his sleeves were rolled back to just above his elbows.

  She could not help but catch a brief glimpse of his bare chest as his shirt blew open.

  Blushing, she cast her eyes downwards in order to stop herself from staring, but the sight stirred her in a manner that was both startling and unfamiliar.

  “Luella,” called the Viscount running towards her. If he had been able, he would have thrown his arms around her and held her fast, but he could not do so in front of the servants.

  “You are safe now. All will be well.”

  She looked so fragile and exhausted that he could not prevent himself putting one arm around her delicate shoulders.

  Luella felt the warmth of his arm through her linen jacket and almost swooned as she inhaled his masculine odour.

  Walking up the front steps, she stumbled slightly and his arm slipped down to her waist while his grip tightened.

  “Come, your rooms are ready for you. It is indeed fortunate that the builders have not begun work on the house as yet as they are still constructing the orangery.”

  Luella did not reply. She simply looked up into his handsome face and smiled.

  It was an effort simply placing one foot in front of the other and she was glad of him to lean on as they mounted the stairs to the river room.

  “Maisie will look after your aunt and I will employ a new maid for you at once,” he said. “You are to stay here as long as you wish, that is, if you can stand the noise and dirt of the builders.”

  “Right now, I would not care if you hired a military band to play at the foot of the stairs – I do believe I would sleep through it,” replied Luella yawning.

  “Then, I shall leave you in peace.”

  The Viscount took her hand and kissed it fervently. Luella felt a shiver run through her as the warmth of his lips touched her skin.

  “I am so glad you have returned,” he murmured unable to keep the passion from his voice. “Even if the circumstances are less than ideal. You must have been very afraid when Frank Connolly found you, but we shall speak more of this later. I will allow you to rest now.”

  “Thank you,” replied Luella, gazing up at him with her wide blue eyes.

  The Viscount would have kissed her soft lips right then and there had she not looked so tired and frail.

  ‘It will have to wait,’ he said to himself, as with his head spinning he returned to his room.

  *

  Luella did not wake until it was almost time for luncheon. At first, when she opened her eyes, she was not certain where she was.

  Then she remembered.

  ‘I am safe and far away from that awful Frank Connolly.’

  She recalled her last sighting of him, being propelled down Mount Street by two Policemen and allowed herself to smile.

  Getting up and putting on a dressing gown, she rang for Maisie and pulled back the curtains.

  She noted with satisfaction that the gardens were beginning to look halfway decent and that one of the gardeners was busy with a rose bush beneath her window.

  ‘I shall repay the Viscount for his kindness by joining them in the garden,’ she resolved. ‘I shall enjoy feeling the earth running through my fingers again.’

  Presently Maisie came to her room and helped her wash and dress.

  “His Lordship is waiting for you in the dining room,” she said, as she finished dressing Luella’s lustrous hair.

  “Oh?”

  “He is expecting you, miss.”

  “He has told you this?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Luella felt her heart begin to race. She swallowed hard as she rose from the dressing table.

  “Tell him I shall be down at once,” she said in a small voice.

  As soon as Maisie had left the room, Luella began to pace up and down.

  ‘I shall tell him everything, I must,’ she repeated over and over again. ‘He is certain to ask me if I have considered his proposal and Aunt Edith will never forgive me if I turn him down again.’

  Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she walked slowly downstairs and into the dining room.

  The Viscount had c
hanged his clothes and was looking extremely handsome.

  “Your aunt sends her apologies,” he began as he seated her at the table. “She has a headache from the long journey.”

  As he stood over her, he longed to touch her shining golden hair or caress the white neck that rose up from her lawn gown.

  He knew that he must ask her again if she would marry him or he would go mad from the suspense.

  “I often forget that Aunt Edith is no longer young,” replied Luella as Cork came into the room and greeted her warmly.

  “Welcome back, Miss Ridgeway,” he said as he poured a glass of water for her.

  “Everyone is most happy to see you and her Ladyship again.”

  Cork brought the luncheon to the table and the Viscount started to discuss the gardens with her. He was far too nervous to broach the subject of marriage so early in the conversation.

  Eventually, as the meal drew to a close, he knew he would have to take his courage in both hands and ask the question burning inside him.

  Clearing his throat, he said,

  “I was wondering if you have had the opportunity to consider my proposal.”

  Luella put down her dessertspoon and could not meet his eyes. He noticed that she seemed hesitant to speak and believed the worst.

  “I have,” she responded at last in her clear musical voice. “But after what I am about to tell you, you may wish to consider whether or not to withdraw it.”

  “Never,” he cried, his brown eyes burning. “Why would I do such a thing?”

  “Because,” mumbled Luella quietly. “I was once engaged – to another.”

  The Viscount’s heart was now beating so furiously it made his breathing difficult.

  “Is that all?” he spluttered. “It is of no consequence – it does not present any impediment to our becoming engaged.”

  “But, I – I am second-hand goods.”

  “You mean – ?”

  “No. My virtue is intact, but the fact is – I ran away with him. We were to be married.”

  The Viscount rose from the table and sank down beside her. Taking her hand, he turned her face towards him with a tender gesture and his warm brown eyes sought hers.