Love Runs In E-Book

Barbara Cartland

• Herausgeber: Barbara Cartland Ebooks Ltd
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Eternal Collection
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 185

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

When a dashing young gentleman runs into Wentmore Hall bleeding from his shoulder and crying, "Save me! Save me! If you cannot hide me, they will kill me!" the quick-witted beautiful young Novella Wentworth hides him in the secret passage that was used centuries ago by Catholic Priests escaping from the wrath of Queen Elizabeth and later the Royalists and the Cromwellians. The young man, Vale Chester, has been shot by Novella's neighbour, Lord Grimstone, who demands to search the house for his quarry. Novella's father, a General fighting in the Duke of Wellington's Army in Spain, never liked Lord Grimstone, so she is naturally suspicious of him and his motives. And sure enough she finds that Vale Chester is a Government agent who suspects Lord Grimstone to be the leader of a smuggling gang landing French luxury goods illegally in England and therefore a traitor, as the English are at war with Napoleon Bonaparte. Taking Vale's top secret coded message to the Secretary of State for War, Novella finds herself a part of the plan to capture Lord Grimstone and his gang of smugglers and a terrifying adventure begins. Now her own life, as well as Vale's, is at stake and, as love blossoms in her heart, she finds that it is for his safety that she cares most.

Leseprobe

AUTHOR’S NOTE

As I have told in this novel when the War with Napoleon Bonaparte became more and more intense as it drew to an end, he considered the English smugglers to be his friends.

He even, at one time, established a special camp for them on the coast at Gravelines.

It was believed that the smugglers also carried War secrets and French spies across the Channel and there is no doubt that given a sufficient amount of money they would take home French prisoners of war who had escaped.

Jack Rattenbury, a notorious West Country smuggler, was caught and found to have agreed to take four French Officers across for one hundred pounds.

The money that Napoleon received for the goods brought back by the smugglers was always in gold and enabled him to buy extra arms from the few countries in Europe who were not yet at war.

When finally Napoleon Bonaparte was banished into exile on St. Helena, some of his admirers approached the famous English smuggler Thomas Johnson and offered him a bribe of forty thousand pounds if he could arrange to rescue the Emperor.

CHAPTER ONE 1813

Novella trotted her horse into the stables and then dismounted.

There was no one about and she thought that the groom was probably working in the garden.

As they were very short staffed owing to the War, everybody left behind was doing two jobs rather than one.

She put her horse into his stall and unfastened his saddle. Placing it on the bar in the passage she went back for the bridle.

Then she checked to see that there was food in the manger and fresh water in the pail.

“You have been a good boy!” she praised him. “If there is time, we will go out again this afternoon.”

As she patted him, she felt sure that Heron understood what she was saying to him.

He nuzzled against her before she left.

Walking back to the house she thought, as it was a lovely day, it was a pity that she had so much to do indoors.

Her mother was ill.

Although Nanny, in spite of getting old, was a tremendous help, there were still dozens of tasks for her to perform.

Lady Wentmore was unable to leave her bedroom.

As Novella came from the stable yard in sight of the house, she felt, as she saw her home, a little thrill run through her.

Nothing, she mused, could be lovelier.

The bricks, which had turned pink with age, the gabled roofs and the strange tall chimneys that were characteristic of the Elizabethan era.

The house had been in the hands of the Wentmore family for generations.

Her father, who was fighting in the Peninsula with the Duke of Wellington must, she thought, be longing day after day to see his beloved home again.

‘If only this ghastly War was over,’ Novella told herself, ‘we could all be together and happy as we used to be.’

She felt a pang of fear go through her in case her father was killed.

There had been so many casualties in the village in the seemingly endless War against Napoleon Bonaparte and the French.

She knew that her mother’s illness was partially due to the fact that she was afraid she might never see her husband again.

Novella reached the centre of the ancient hall with its huge medieval fireplace and panelled walls.

As she did so, she heard an unexpected sound behind her.

She turned in surprise.

She was then aware that what she had heard was the sound of running feet. Someone was moving at a tremendous pace across the gravelled courtyard.

Before she could wonder what was happening, a man dashed up the steps and into the hall. She looked at him in astonishment.

He was not one of their neighbours, but a stranger. He was handsome, young, and obviously a gentleman.

However he looked at the moment somewhat dishevelled.

When he saw her standing and staring at him, he came to a standstill and called out,

“For God’s sake, hide me! If they catch me, they will kill me!”

Novella gave a gasp of amazement.

Then she saw that blood was running down his arm and over his hand.

“They have shot me in the arm,” he said, “and the next time they shoot I will be dead!”

As he spoke, he looked over his shoulder apprehensively.

Novella realised that the man he was running away from could not be very far behind.

With a swiftness of decision that was characteristic of her she urged him hurriedly,

“Come with me!”

She passed through the hall and started to run down a long passage that led to the library.

She opened the door, aware that the stranger was just behind her.

He was still breathing heavily, as he had done when he first came into the house.

The library was a beautiful room with books lining the walls. Halfway up one wall there ran a gallery, which was reached by curving steps.

The room also contained a large medieval fireplace, but to this had been added a marble mantelpiece at a later date.

As Novella looked at it, she thought she heard a sound from the hall that they had just left.

She went quickly to the side of the mantelpiece and pressed one of the carved flowers in the oak panelling.

A narrow door slid open.

“A secret passage!” the stranger beside her exclaimed. “That is exactly what I need. Thank you, thank you, for saving my life!”

Even as he was speaking, he bent his head and climbed through the dark opening.

“Keep to the left,” Novella whispered, “and you will come to the Priest’s room.”

She closed the panelling.

Moving away from the fireplace, she crossed to the other side of the room.

Even as she did so, she knew that somebody was coming down the passage.

The next minute the door that had been left ajar was thrown open.

And a man was standing there whom she recognised.

It was Lord Grimstone whose castle was about a mile away overlooking the sea.

Novella had seen him in the hunting field and at the Lord Lieutenant’s annual garden party that she had twice attended with her mother.

She could not remember his ever coming to The Hall and knew that it was because her father did not like him.

Moreover Lord Grimstone, she had always heard, had no desire himself to associate with his neighbours.

Because of this she thought it a gross impertinence that he should have walked into the house without being admitted or even announced by a servant.

A man of over forty, he had been good-looking when he was young. Now his face was debauched with heavy bags under his eyes and dark lines running from his nose to his chin.

“Where is he?” he asked in a sharp domineering tone.

Novella looked at him in surprise.

“I think, sir,” she said slowly, “that you are Lord Grimstone. I have heard my father speak of you, but we have not met.”

“Where is that man I saw coming into this house?” Lord Grimstone demanded furiously.

“Man?” Novella repeated. “I don’t know what you mean unless you are referring to Dawkins, our manservant.”

“I am not talking about servants,” Lord Grimstone retorted angrily, “but the man who escaped from the fools who were trying to capture him. I know he is somewhere in this house!”

“I am afraid you are mistaken, my Lord,” Novella replied firmly. “As my mother is unwell and my father fighting with the Duke of Wellington, we are not receiving guests at the moment.”

“I am not a guest, dammit!” Lord Grimstone shouted.

Then, as he saw the shocked expression on Novella’s face, he added hastily,

“Forgive me, I should not have sworn in front of a lady. At the same time it is infuriating that I should have lost this man.”

“I cannot imagine who you are talking about, my Lord,” Novella said, “but I assure you, whoever it is you are pursuing, he is not here!”

“I am quite certain he is!” Lord Grimstone repeated. “And I insist that my men must search for him.”

Novella drew herself up.

“This is my home,” she said, “and, as I have already told your Lordship, my mother is ill. I cannot believe that you would behave in this extremely aggressive manner if my father was at home.”

“The General would certainly not frustrate me by preventing my men from looking for this fellow,” Lord Grimstone stated aggressively.

“My father would ask the reason why you are hunting for this man and would also make it clear to you that he is not in this house.”

Because she was lying, which was something she never did, Novella crossed her fingers.

She was telling herself at the same time that she could not and would not hand over the man she had hidden to anyone as despicable and unpleasant as Lord Grimstone.

“Whatever you may say,” he said now, “I intend to find this man and arrest him!”

“Then you had better look elsewhere,” Novella said, “for I cannot have your men disturbing my ill mother by trampling all over the place. In any case it is an outrage that they should attempt to do so without my permission.”

Lord Grimstone recognised that this was indeed true.

He stood for a moment irresolute, but obviously determined somehow to find his prey.

Then, unexpectedly, and in a very different voice he looked at Novella and said,

“You have grown since I last saw you into a very pretty young woman.”

He looked her up and down in a way that was insulting.

Lifting her chin a little higher, she replied,

“If I am not mistaken, my Lord, I think I can hear your men walking about in the hall. Kindly tell them to remain outside the house while we finish our conversation.”

She spoke with a dignity that made her seem older than her years.

She then walked past Lord Grimstone and along the passage.

She did so unhurriedly and without looking behind her to see if he was following.

He looked round the library and then with an oath under his breath left the room.

When Novella reached the hall, he was not far behind her.

She found three men looking under the stairs, behind a chest and a grandfather clock. And then they were peering upwards towards the landing.

In the same tone she had used to Lord Grimstone, she declared forcefully,

“As you have not been invited into this house, will you kindly wait outside until you have permission to enter?”

These men she thought were of a rough type and not in any way characteristic of the locals from the villages.

They looked at her in surprise and then somewhat sheepishly they moved towards the front door.

They had just reached it when Lord Grimstone appeared.

They stopped and looked towards him as if awaiting his orders.

“Do as the lady said!” he commanded. “I will call you when you are wanted.”

They touched their caps, which they had not removed and walked down the steps into the courtyard.

Lord Grimstone stopped in front of the fireplace.

“Now, look here, my girl,” he said, “you must not stand in the way of justice. I insist on taking the man who is somewhere in this house away with me.”

“If you are speaking of justice, my Lord,” Novella replied, “I imagine that is something that should be discussed with the Chief Constable, whom my father knows well. If you will fetch him and tell him what this trouble is all about, I will of course co-operate with him in any way that he may require.”

Novella saw by the expression on Lord Grimstone’s face that the last thing he wanted was the Chief Constable interfering in what he was doing.

She had played a trump card to which he had no answer.

Yet, as if he was not to be defeated by a mere girl, he then said,

“There is no need to make all this fuss about it! I had the man arrested and he escaped. All I want to do is to search the house and take him away to where he will cause no more trouble.”

“That is something which to my knowledge this unknown stranger has not done,” Novella said. “I find your Lordship’s behaviour extraordinary and something I have never encountered before!”

For a moment Lord Grimstone looked slightly embarrassed.

Then he said,

“You are being very clever in getting your own way, but I am determined not to leave empty-handed.”

“Very well,” Novella said. “If you insist, your men can search the house so long as they do not disturb my mother.”

She paused before continuing,

“But I think that my father will have something to say about your Lordship’s behaviour. I shall certainly inform him of it as soon as he returns home from fighting for his country against Napoleon Bonaparte.”

As she spoke, she walked away and opened the door that led into the drawing room.

Her heart was beating frantically as she moved towards the bow window that overlooked the Rose Garden.

Yet she thought she had behaved in the way that her father would have expected her to do.

She hoped that for the moment Lord Grimstone was completely nonplussed.

He had in fact watched her leave him.

And then, as if against his better judgement he had been convinced by what Novella said, he went to the front door.

His men were standing below the steps.

Lord Grimstone’s phaeton was behind them and a brake in which he had intended to carry his prisoner away was just coming more slowly up the drive.

Standing at the top of the steps Lord Grimstone said to his men in a harsh voice,

“You are quite certain that the man we are seeking came in here?”

One of them, who looked a little more intelligent than the other two, piped up,

“I thinks ’e done, my Lord, but ’e might’ve slipped away round the side of the ’ouse. We was a long ways from ’im, as your Lordship rightly knows.”

Lord Grimstone frowned.

“I might have guessed you would make a mess of it!” he grumbled sullenly. “Well, search the garden, you fools! If he is not in the house, that is where he must be hiding.”

The men hurried off to obey him.

They ran round to the side of the house, peering behind the yew-hedges and bushes and Novella was watching them from the window in the drawing room.

She had a distinct feeling of triumph at having outwitted Lord Grimstone.

Equally she could not help wondering what the stranger had done that had resulted in his being taken prisoner.

Had she been mistaken and was he really a dangerous criminal?

He had appealed to her for sanctuary and she had therefore been determined that she would not hand him over to anyone as unpleasant as Lord Grimstone.

‘Perhaps when he has gone, I should send for the Chief Constable,’ she thought.

It was essential first to make absolutely certain that Lord Grimstone had really left.

He must not be spying on her when she released the man who was now in the secret passage.

Ever since she had been a child, Novella had loved the secret passages that her father had shown her and he had told her stories about those who had hidden there over the centuries.

When the house was first built by his ancestor, Roman Catholics, who were persecuted by the followers of Queen Elizabeth, had been saved.

Then during the Civil War the house had been searched time and time again by Cromwellian troops hunting out Royalists.

Novella had invented stories in which she had to hide from giants or goblins who were pursuing her.

However, she had never expected in real life to hide a man who was in danger of losing his life.

‘As soon as Lord Grimstone is gone, I must go and talk to the stranger’, she thought, ‘and also take him a bandage for his arm.’

She was sure that it must be very painful for him.

She watched the men in the garden roughly pulling apart the shrubs and they would be just as rough, she thought, with the man who had escaped them if they found him.

The three men, having looked around the garden, were now conversing with each other.

They then shrugged their shoulders as if they realised that their prey was lost and there was nothing they could do about it.

It was then that she heard Lord Grimstone say behind her,

“Those idiots have lost the man for the moment, but make no mistake about it, I shall capture him sooner or later.”

Novella turned round.

“I can only hope, my Lord, that it will not be on my father’s estate. If you should call here again, perhaps you would be kind enough to give me notice of your visit. Or at least, if you arrive unexpectedly, at least knock on the door.”

As she finished speaking, she realised that Lord Grimstone was astounded that she should have spoken to him in such a way.

Then unexpectedly he laughed.

“At least you have pluck, my girl!” he said. “I suppose because you are so pretty you think that you can get away with it!”

Again he was appraising her.

As his eyes roved over her body, Novella had the idea that he was mentally undressing her.

She dropped him a small curtsey, saying,

“Would you be so kind, my Lord, as to tell your coachman to close the main gates after him. The gate-keeper is in the Army and his wife suffers from rheumatism.”

Once again Lord Grimstone laughed.

“We must meet again, Miss Wentmore,” he said, “in happier circumstances. Perhaps you would care to dine with me one evening? I will send my carriage for you.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Novella replied stiffly “but, while my mother is so ill, it is impossible for me to leave her.”

Lord Grimstone’s lips twitched.

“I am not a man to take no for an answer,” he said. “I will concede my prisoner to you, as we cannot find him here, but I promise you that I shall see you again. And very shortly.”

He walked towards the door with a swagger.

He then looked back as if he expected Novella to follow him.

Once again she made a small bob that was more of an insult than a curtsey.

Breathing heavily, Lord Grimstone walked across the hall and down the steps.

Novella did not move until she heard his phaeton driving away, followed by the brake.

Only when she could no longer hear them did she go to the front door and now she could see the brake at the far end of the drive.

The phaeton had already gone through the gates and onto the road that led through the village.

She wondered if perhaps Lord Grimstone had left one of his men behind to spy on the house.

She looked in the bushes that bordered the courtyard and there did not appear to be anybody hiding in them.

Nevertheless she closed the front door and looked out before she walked towards the library.

Taking no chances she went first to the windows to make certain that there was no one peeping in from the garden.

She had an impulse to draw the curtains, but she thought that would be a mistake and would certainly arouse suspicion if there was anybody outside.

She looked out of each of the three windows very carefully.

The birds were fluttering undisturbed over the lawn and the white doves that her mother so loved were moving amongst the flowerbeds.

Novella thought that if a stranger was near them they would be fluttering away in alarm.

Finally, when quite some time had passed since Lord Grimstone had left, she went to the panelling.

The secret door opened, but there was no one waiting just inside.

Because she was still nervous, she went back into the library.

She transferred the key from the outside of the door to the inside, and locked it.

She then put her head inside the entrance to the secret passage.

“Are you there?” she called out softly.

There was no answer.

She supposed that the stranger had, as she had suggested, gone to the Priest’s room, which was where the Roman Catholics had secretly said Mass.

It was some way from the entrance in the library.

She knew how dark the passage was, although there were places where some light and air filtered in.

She therefore lit a candle on the mantelpiece and carried it into the secret passage. She closed the secret panel behind her.

She walked slowly, shading the candle with her hand, as she did not wish it to be extinguished by an unexpected draught.

That was what had happened once with her father and they had had to grope their way back to the entrance with some difficulty in the darkness.

She reached the Priest’s room. It was small but large enough to contain an altar that had a gold crucifix on it and a prie-dieu.

There were also some needlepoint cushions on which to kneel, which were almost threadbare.

For a moment Novella thought there was no one there.

And then, lifting the candle, she saw slumped on the floor the man she had befriended.

His head was resting on the stool of the prie-dieu.

His eyes were closed and for one frightening second she thought that he was dead.

Then she realised that he was just asleep, but the wound to his arm was bleeding onto the sleeve of his jacket.

For a few seconds she stared at him.

Then, as if she called to him without speaking, he opened his eyes.

Novella gave a little sigh of relief as he said,

“Forgive me, but I have not slept for two nights and I fell asleep without realising it.”

“Lord Grimstone and his men have gone,” Novella told him, “but he was very unpleasant and determined to find you.”

“I thought he would be,” the stranger replied. “Now, how can I thank you for befriending me and saving my life?”

“Would he – really have – killed you?” Novella asked hesitantly in a low voice.

“Undoubtedly!” the stranger replied, “and as you see, they have already damaged my arm.”