Love Came From Heaven Page 9

  The Earl, Selena and George went off with Jemima following a little way behind.

  “I don’t know what Hector is going to think of it all,” she muttered. “He’s not used to tigers!”

  It was not far to the orchard.

  George looked round the gently sloping green space with its old apple, pear and plum trees, then saw that there was a brook running along the bottom.

  “Perfect, that’s just perfect!” he cried, rubbing his hands in satisfaction. “We’ll all do very well ’ere, sir.”

  “I’ll help you settle them in,” offered Selena as they returned to the yard.

  “What an amazing girl you are,” the Earl murmured softly to her.

  She looked at him, blushing.

  “It just seemed such a good idea and I do hope it works out.”

  “If you have anything to do with it, it will. Now, we’d better all help guide these horses and the cages into the orchard.”

  Selena was thrilled that the Earl felt she should help organise the menagerie.

  Gradually all the cages were driven into the orchard and George specified where they should go.

  Selena did not exchange any conversation with the Earl, but it was enough for her to be working with him and see the cheerful looks he gave her as they crossed paths.

  “They like to be able to look at each other,” George said, manoeuvring a cage. “It’s what they’re used to, see?”

  Selena nodded – animals liked routine.

  The last cage in was the tiger’s and he was the first animal George attended to.

  She noticed that every cage had a closed-in section at one end where the animals could retire to sleep. George coaxed the tiger into this area and then let down a sliding board that trapped him inside.

  “Now I can clean the cage and give ’im dinner and some fresh water,” George told Selena.

  He gave her a pail.

  “Did you say you wanted to ’elp, girl? Well, you could fill that with water from the stream.”

  The gate at the rear of the tiger’s cage was secured with a padlock and he took a ring of keys from his belt and unlocked it.

  The tiger banged against his enclosure as George finished his sweeping out and then took in a bloody joint of meat from a cupboard at the side of the cage.

  He placed it on the floor and filled a bowl with the water Selena had brought him. Then he retired, locking the cage behind him.

  The tiger roared and banged on his enclosure again.

  Selena looked around to see if this worried the Earl, but he had left the orchard.

  “There, there, old chap,” George coaxed him as he raised the sliding door.

  The tiger bounded out at once and went straight to the meat.

  Selena tried to forget all about the Earl and watched fascinated as the tiger tore into his dinner.

  She loved the ripple his muscles gave as he leaped from his enclosure. There was so much power in that body and strength in the face as the tiger’s lips were drawn back and his razor sharp teeth attacked the meat.

  “Do you ever touch him?” she asked George.

  “Once he’s been fed, he’s gentle as anythin’. Mind you, I’m careful not to make no sudden movements.”

  “How did you get involved with the circus?”

  “Come from a long line of circus people, me. My old man was a lion tamer and ’e brought me up knowin’ all about big cats. Always liked our four-footed friends, I have. I got a gift with ’em, just like you, miss. I seen the way you are with old Stripey and with the others.”

  He looked at her confidentially.

  “What do you reckon to this Earl. All right, is ’e?”

  “The best,” asserted Selena. “I would trust him with my life.”

  “Then that’s good enough for me. Only you can’t be too careful with people, particularly when they comes at you out of the blue with suspect proposals, like.”

  “There is nothing in any way suspect about the Earl of Wakefield,” Selena assured him.

  *

  Selena now started out on her campaign to inform the public about the attractions to be found at Wakefield.

  Jemima and she had gone into the Stallden library and looked up details of all the local newspapers. And, just in case, Selena had added the address of The Times.

  She then held a meeting with the Earl to decide on the entry price and opening times and had been pleasantly surprised at his business-like approach.

  Mrs. Cropper, with the help of Morland, who could handle a paint brush just as well as he wielded saddle soap, set about transforming the entrance hall of the house into a gracious background for the paintings of the first Earl and his wife and a number of other Wakefield ancestors.

  A sideboard was added and a collection of pewter plates and tankards arranged on its top.

  The minstrel’s gallery had its railings polished, the panelling was mended and the flagstones were buffed up.

  All in all, Selena was convinced that it now looked a worthy background for an Earl of the Realm.

  “Who is to be in charge of taking the money?” she asked the Earl.

  “That will be Mrs. Cropper and we’ll open for three days a week – Thursday, Friday and Saturday.”

  The Earl studied the notes she had made.

  They were in the room he had taken her to on that first day and for once she was alone with him.

  Selena so wished that whatever magic she held for other men would begin to work with him, so that he would look at her the way they did.

  Instead he glanced up at her and smiled in the way that she knew had nothing to do with her as a woman.

  “You have given a splendid account of the glories to be seen at Wakefield Hall, Selena. I love how you refer to William Blake’s poem,

  ‘Tiger, tiger burning bright,

  In the forest of the night.’

  – but the orchard isn’t exactly a forest!”

  “I think it will do,” said Selena, wondering, not for the first time, if this idea of hers was really going to work.

  “Well, the hall is certainly in the oldest part of the house and Mrs. Cropper has been researching a few dates and details to give those who come.”

  “I think we will need a series of signs to tell people where to go when they arrive. George and Marie will be on duty in the orchard to tell them about the animals.”

  “And stop anybody annoying Stripey, I hope!”

  “He’s really very good tempered,” she assured him. “He’s only ever upset if he’s hungry.”

  The Earl’s gaze suddenly sharpened.

  “Selena, you haven’t been in his cage, have you?”

  “Only with George – and only once.”

  It had been a thrilling experience and she had not been in the least bit worried. Stripey had rubbed his head against her skirt and looked up at her in such a gentle way she would have loved to stroke him, but George had made her promise not to.

  Instead she had carefully and slowly backed out the way he had told her.

  “Please, don’t do so again,” the Earl scolded sharply.

  She looked at him in surprise and he dropped his gaze.

  “My garden is not finished yet and I would hate it if you were put out of action.”

  She realised that, despite his tone, he was genuinely concerned for her.

  “Alex, I’m not going to get bitten by Stripey, I do promise you.”

  He looked up and for a heart-stopping moment she believed that he was going to rise and take her in his arms.

  But at that very moment Jemima bustled in.

  “There you are, Alex,” she called. “I thought we’d arranged to meet by the old walled garden to discuss the restoration of the brickwork.”

  The Earl rose.

  “Jemima, I am sorry, I didn’t realise what the time was. Selena has been showing me the details she wants to send to the newspapers.”

  His tone was quite different and Selena wondered if she had imagined
that he might kiss her and decided that, yes, she was sure that he had.

  *

  In the days that followed, Selena grew even more convinced that she had misread the look that had seemed to deepen in the Earl’s eyes. To add to this his visits to wherever she was working in the garden became even fewer.

  When they did meet, their conversations were shorter and focused solely on what she and Joe were doing, rather than going on to cover books or music or gossip that Martha had heard from the village.

  Selena badly missed these points of contact.

  Neither did the Earl seem to have time to come to dinner at the cottage.

  “Alex is getting more and more involved with his gliding,” Jemima said in exasperation, looking at the note he had sent turning down one of her invitations. “I shall be very pleased when he is able to launch his infernal machine on its inaugural flight.”

  Selena paled.

  “Don’t say that. What if he has an accident?”

  Jemima’s mood changed to one of gentleness.

  “Dear Selena, I have already said it is not likely.”

  That afternoon Selena walked up to the hill the Earl had told her he would use to launch his glider. She wanted to see just what he and his machine would be faced with.

  It was a pretty steep climb and Selena slowed up, breathless, as she approached the top.

  Then she stopped, taken aback by the suddenness with which the downward slope fell away. It was the remains of a quarry, now empty with the stone long since cut and removed for buildings.

  Looking down she could see that the sheer drop was littered with abandoned stones and scrub that gradually gave way to rolling fields.

  To her right was a wood that petered out close to the abandoned quarry, but looking harder she saw that it grew denser towards the West.

  Should the wind force the glider in that direction, it could be disastrous.

  With a sick feeling in her stomach Selena turned to see what was in the other direction.

  This way looked much safer – greener fields and a river. Gazing at the light reflecting off the distant water, she wondered if it was the same river that ran through the orchard, currently providing water for the animals. If it was, she concluded, it had widened considerably.

  The Earl’s safety would, Selena decided, depend on the prevailing wind the day he launched his machine. He must, she reflected, be well aware of the dangers.

  Selena tried to be comforted by this thought as she made her way back down the hill.

  As she neared the gardens, Joe came running to her.

  “Miss Norton,” he shouted as soon as he was within hailing distance. “There’s a man wants to see you. I been lookin’ all over for you – he says it’s important.”

  A throb of fear gripped Selena.

  Lord Taverner was here!

  “Is the Earl in his workshop?” she asked.

  “No, miss, he’s gone into town for somethin’.”

  “Where is this gentleman?”

  “He’s walkin’ around the gardens.”

  “Oh, Joe, you shouldn’t have let him in.”

  “Wasn’t much I could do, miss.”

  Selena could easily imagine Lord Taverner walking about Wakefield as though he owned the place.

  Much as she hated the idea, particularly now that she knew the Earl was not at home, she had to see what the dreadful man wanted.

  “There ’e is, miss,” yelled Joe, pointing to a figure coming through the rose garden.

  Selena’s first thought was wild relief that it was not Lord Taverner.

  This was no aristocrat but an ordinary-looking man in a cap, a plain tweed suit and shabby shoes.

  As he drew nearer, she saw that his thin face had an enquiring look, partly as a result of wire-framed spectacles.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  “If you are Miss Norton, I hope so,” the man said in a pleasant local accent.

  He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and she recognised one of her newspaper letters.

  “My editor has sent me to do a story on the gardens here and, in particular, the menagerie.”

  Selena’s heart leaped – this must mean publicity.

  “Of course, sir, I would be delighted to show you around. May I know your name?”

  Peter Preston was with the biggest local newspaper and he fired questions at Selena non-stop, taking down her answers in a notebook using a weird method of shorthand.

  He spent a lot of time with the menagerie talking to George and Marie, who at once insisted on treating him to a sample of her bareback riding.

  Selena admired the pleasing way Mr. Preston could get people to talk to him.

  She invited him to the cottage for tea before he left so that he could meet Jemima. He showed great interest in her ideas for garden design.

  “I’ve got material for at least two articles here, my editor will be delighted,” he said, holding up his notebook.

  “How about one of your sketches of a garden as an illustration?” he suggested to Jemima, but instead she gave him one of Selena’s – a view of how the rose garden would eventually look.

  “It needs more time to mature, but already it is most attractive, do you not agree?” Jemima asked Mr. Preston.

  “Wonderful!” he cried. “And all those rose bushes should be a picture. My wife would love to come here.”

  “We should be delighted to welcome her.”

  “I have to thank you, ladies, for giving me so much of your time,” the reporter said gratefully as he left.

  The result was a large spread about the Wakefield estate and its new venture in the local newspaper. Several other papers picked up the story and featured it.

  There was even a small paragraph in The Times.

  *

  When the day finally arrived for the first Open Day, the Earl and Selena stood together in the newly refurbished entrance hall as they waited to see if anyone would come.

  “What a blessing it’s such a fine day,” said Selena nervously.

  “Well, in a way. Though if no one comes we will not be able to blame it on the weather.”

  “I am sure people will come,” added Mrs. Cropper, who appeared to relish her role as guide.

  She was dressed in an elegant bombazine dress, which she told Selena was her Sunday best.

  The Earl was wearing a smart country suit with a stiff collar. Selena was not used to seeing him look so formal, but secretly she thought that he looked even more handsome than ever.

  She herself had put on one of the lovely designer gowns that Beatrice had ordered for her.

  When the heavy trunks containing all of her finery had finally arrived, there had been a struggle to find a place to store everything. Despite the fact that Selena thought it unlikely that she would need to wear any of the gowns, it had taken hours to try and find a space to hang them all.

  Then the Earl had come to hear of the problem.

  “There’s a very simple solution,” he had said. “I’ll give you a room at the Hall and you can put them there.”

  Selena had found a large wardrobe in the room and hung some of her favourite dresses in it.

  The one she was wearing now was one Beatrice had thought too severe for a young girl, but Selena had fallen in love with the russet colour of the heavy silk and the way it showed off her blonde hair.

  The look of the gown stamped it as haute couture and she wore a pair of little boots in brown kid. Her hair was drawn back in her usual knot and on her head was a straw boater.

  When she followed Jemima into the hall, the Earl looked stunned.

  “Will I do?” she asked him, a little coquettishly.

  “Do? You look beautiful!”

  Selena blushed at the look in his eyes.

  For a moment it was as if no one else was present.

  “No, better than beautiful – magnificent! Don’t you agree, Jemima?”

  Jemima nodded with a slight smile.

  “
May I make a suggestion, Alex?”

  “Of course.”

  “Mrs. Cropper is going to give a short talk on the Hall. Perhaps Selena should sit behind the table and take the entry money? Then you could stand over there, beside the portrait of the first Earl and greet the visitors.”

  “Excellent idea, Jemima. And what will you do?”

  “I will hand out these leaflets we have had printed on the garden and offer to answer any plant questions.”

  So it was all arranged.

  The time that had been advertised for the opening approached – arrived and passed.

  The Earl walked up and down past the portraits of his ancestors.

  Mrs. Cropper and Jemima talked quietly together.

  Selena sat at the table with the cash box in front of her and her face buried in her hands.

  It seemed nobody would be coming.

  All her efforts were going to be in vain.

  “Cheer up,” called the Earl, stopping his pacing in front of her. “I’m sure people are on their way.”

  Selena remembered the first time she had arrived at Wakefield and had a sudden thought.

  “Have the gates to the main drive been opened?”

  Mrs. Cropper and the Earl looked at each other.

  “I’ll send Joe down on his bicycle,” replied the Earl and ran outside.

  “Of all the things we thought about, that was not one of them. Not with us using the back way all the time,” added Mrs. Cropper.

  Soon the Earl was back.

  “Joe will ride down the drive and open up the gates. Selena, you are a genius! Why didn’t I think of that?”

  He looked at Selena with such warmth in his eyes that her heart leaped in her breast.

  She told herself that she must not get carried away. He was so very kind and obviously fond of her, but the tragic end of his marriage must be always with him.

  She had to admit the truth.

  She had fallen in love with Alex, the Earl of Wakefield, who could never again care for any woman.

  Jemima stood by the windows that looked out onto the drive.

  Suddenly she exclaimed,

  “Look! There’s carriage after carriage coming up the drive!”

  “Stations, everybody,” the Earl said coolly. Then he looked across at Selena and smiled. “You see? There was no need to worry.”

  Selena sat a little straighter and positioned the cash box exactly in front of her with the roll of tickets to the side.