Erhalten Sie Zugang zu diesem und mehr als 300000 Büchern ab EUR 5,99 monatlich.
- Herausgeber: Barbara Cartland Ebooks Ltd
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Serie: The Pink Collection
- Sprache: Englisch
The handsome Viscount Trent finally makes up his mind to accede to the pleadings of his family and get married. He is twenty-seven and for a long time they have been begging him to take a wife and produce an heir to his illustrious title, his famous stately home and his vast estate. On the whole he finds debutantes extremely boring and has enjoyed a number of affaires-de-coeur with older married women. However there is one girl, Marigold Marlow, he considers outstanding and she is the acknowledged great beauty of the Season. As she is so beautiful, the Viscount is convinced that Marigold will make him a perfect wife, but he is astonished when, having proposed to her, she tells him that she has not quite made up her mind. She will let him know on Wednesday if she accepts his proposal of marriage. As the Viscount expects her to fall immediately into his arms, he is surprised, but content to wait until Wednesday for her answer, which he is certain will be 'yes'. As he drives away from Marigold's house, a young girl holding a white Pekingese in her arms begs him to give her a lift to London. He sees no reason to refuse and finds as they drive off that she is Salvia, a cousin of the beautiful Marigold. He then learns that Marigold has her eyes on the son of the Duke of Northerncliff, who is seriously ill. In fact if he dies as expected, she intends to marry his heir as one day soon he will be a Duke. Feeling surprised and angry, he is even more astonished to learn that Marigold is cruel to animals and that Salvia is running away because she is so unkind to her dog as well as to her. How the Viscount dreams up a way to avenge himself on Marigold and, if the Duke does recover, how he can escape marrying her as he has now changed his mind. How the Viscount's plan succeeds. And how Salvia takes London by storm, faces appalling danger and finally finds the love of her life is all told in this unusual story by BARBARA CARTLAND.
Sie lesen das E-Book in den Legimi-Apps auf:
Seitenzahl: 226
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015
Das E-Book (TTS) können Sie hören im Abo „Legimi Premium” in Legimi-Apps auf:
Ähnliche
The Viscount’s Revenge
BARBARA CARTLAND
www.barbaracartland.com
Copyright © 2014 by Cartland Promotions
First published on the internet in June 2015
ISBNs 978-1-78213-716-0 Epub 978-1-78213-687-3 Print
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanically, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval, without the prior permission in writing from the publisher.
eBook conversion by M-Y Books
THE VISCOUNT’S REVENGE
“But, if you do marry her, I just know that she will make you unhappy. Once she is your wife – there will be nothing you can do about it.”
“That is just why I must not marry her under any circumstances,” the Viscount replied. “If I refuse her, you will be the only one who will understand why I am doing so, while everyone else will think, as she is so beautiful and so much admired, that I am a cad and a swine to try to take back what I have already offered her.”
Salvia drew in her breath.
“I can understand what you are saying and I think it is – terrible for you. But – ”
She stopped as if she was preventing herself from saying the words that came to her lips.
“Although you have not said it aloud, I agree with every word you say,” the Viscount told her firmly. “So now I am going to ask you to do something for me, which will save me from marrying your cousin and for which, as I have already said, I am prepared to give you two thousand pounds.”
He saw Salvia clench her fingers together.
He knew, without her saying anything, that she was wondering what he could possibly be about to say.
THE BARBARA CARTLAND PINK COLLECTION
Barbara Cartland was the most prolific bestselling author in the history of the world. She was frequently in the Guinness Book of Records for writing more books in a year than any other living author. In fact her most amazing literary feat was when her publishers asked for more Barbara Cartland romances, she doubled her output from 10 books a year to over 20 books a year, when she was 77.
She went on writing continuously at this rate for 20 years and wrote her last book at the age of 97, thus completing 400 books between the ages of 77 and 97.
Her publishers finally could not keep up with this phenomenal output, so at her death she left 160 unpublished manuscripts, something again that no other author has ever achieved.
Now the exciting news is that these 160 original unpublished Barbara Cartland books are ready for publication and they will be published by Barbaracartland.com exclusively on the internet, as the web is the best possible way to reach so many Barbara Cartland readers around the world.
The 160 books will be published monthly and will be numbered in sequence.
The series is called the Pink Collection as a tribute to Barbara Cartland whose favourite colour was pink and it became very much her trademark over the years.
The Barbara Cartland Pink Collection is published only on the internet. Log on to www.barbaracartland.com to find out how you can purchase the books monthly as they are published, and take out a subscription that will ensure that all subsequent editions are delivered to you by mail order to your home.
If you do not have access to a computer you can write for information about the Pink Collection to the following address :
BarbaraCartland.com
Camfield Place
Hatfield
Hertfordshire
AL9 6JE
United Kingdom
Telephone: +44 1707 642629
Fax: +44 1707 663041
Titles in this series
These titles are currently available for download. For more information please see the Where to buy page at the end of this book.
The Cross Of Love
Love In The Highlands
Love Finds The Way
The Castle Of Love
Love Is Triumphant
Stars In The Sky
The Ship Of Love
A Dangerous Disguise
Love Became Theirs
Love Drives In
Sailing To Love
The Star Of Love
Music Is The Soul Of Love
Love In The East
Theirs To Eternity
A Paradise On Earth
Love Wins In Berlin
In Search Of Love
Love Rescues Rosanna
A Heart In Heaven
The House Of Happiness
Royalty Defeated By Love
The White Witch
They Sought Love
Love Is The Reason For Living
They Found Their Way To Heaven
Learning To Love
Journey To Happiness
A Kiss In The Desert
The Heart Of Love
The Richness Of Love
For Ever And Ever
An Unexpected Love
Saved By An Angel
Touching The Stars
Seeking Love
Journey To Love
The Importance Of Love
Love By The Lake
A Dream Come True
The King Without A Heart
The Waters Of Love
Danger To The Duke
A Perfect Way To Heaven
Follow Your Heart
In Hiding
Rivals For Love
A Kiss From The Heart
Lovers In London
This Way To Heaven
A Princess Prays
Mine For Ever
The Earl’s Revenge
Love At The Tower
Ruled By Love
Love Came From Heaven
Love And Apollo
The Keys Of Love
A Castle Of Dreams
A Battle Of Brains
A Change Of Hearts
It Is Love
The Triumph Of Love
Wanted – A Royal Wife
A Kiss Of Love
To Heaven With Love
Pray For Love
The Marquis Is Trapped
Hide And Seek For Love
Hiding from Love
A Teacher Of Love
Money Or Love
The Revelation Is Love
The Tree Of Love
The Magnificent Marquis
The Castle
The Gates of Paradise
A Lucky Star
A Heaven on Earth
The Healing Hand
A Virgin Bride
The Trail to Love
A Royal Love Match
A Steeplechase for Love
Love at Last
Search for a Wife
Secret Love
A Miracle of Love
Love and the Clans
A Shooting Star
The Winning Post is Love
They Touched Heaven
The Mountain of Love
The Queen Wins
Love and the Gods
Joined by Love
The Duke is Deceived
A Prayer For Love
Love Conquers War
A Rose in Jeopardy
A Call of Love
A Flight to Heaven
She Wanted Love
A Heart Finds Love
A Sacrifice for Love
Love's Dream in Peril
Soft, sweet & Gentle
An Archangel Called Ivan
A Prisoner in Paris
Danger in the desert
Rescued by Love
A Road to Romance
A Golden Lie
A heart of stone
The Earl Elopes
A Wilder Kind of Love
The Bride Runs Away
Beyond the Horizon
Crowned by Music
Love solves the Problem
Blessing of the Gods
Love by Moonlight
Saved by the Duke
A Train to Love
Wanted - A Bride
Double the Love
Hiding from the Fortune-Hunters
The Marquis is Deceived
THE LATE DAME BARBARA CARTLAND
Barbara Cartland, who sadly died in May 2000 at the grand age of ninety eight, remains one of the world’s most famous romantic novelists. With worldwide sales of over one billion, her outstanding 723 books have been translated into thirty six different languages, to be enjoyed by readers of romance globally.
Writing her first book ‘Jigsaw’ at the age of 21, Barbara became an immediate bestseller. Building upon this initial success, she wrote continuously throughout her life, producing bestsellers for an astonishing 76 years. In addition to Barbara Cartland’s legion of fans in the UK and across Europe, her books have always been immensely popular in the USA. In 1976 she achieved the unprecedented feat of having books at numbers 1 & 2 in the prestigious B. Dalton Bookseller bestsellers list.
Although she is often referred to as the ‘Queen of Romance’, Barbara Cartland also wrote several historical biographies, six autobiographies and numerous theatrical plays as well as books on life, love, health and cookery. Becoming one of Britain's most popular media personalities and dressed in her trademark pink, Barbara spoke on radio and television about social and political issues, as well as making many public appearances.
In 1991 she became a Dame of the Order of the British Empire for her contribution to literature and her work for humanitarian and charitable causes.
Known for her glamour, style, and vitality Barbara Cartland became a legend in her own lifetime. Best remembered for her wonderful romantic novels and loved by millions of readers worldwide, her books remain treasured for their heroic heroes, plucky heroines and traditional values. But above all, it was Barbara Cartland’s overriding belief in the positive power of love to help, heal and improve the quality of life for everyone that made her truly unique.
“I always write about true love lasting for Eternity and that love goes on forever from one life to another and, when you do meet your true love in this life, you will know at once, as you have loved each other already in countless past lives.”
Barbara Cartland
CHAPTER ONE ~ 1877
Viscount Trent gave his splendid team their heads when they moved out of the built-up area.
They were a new acquisition that he was very proud of.
He was quite sure that every man who passed him was thinking how lucky he was to have such magnificent well-matched horses.
He was driving a chaise he had designed himself in which he could travel a great deal faster than he had ever done before.
The groom perched up behind him had difficulty in holding onto his cap.
Today the Viscount found himself in a particularly good mood because he was, for the first time in his life, going to make a proposal of marriage.
He had habitually avoided the London debutantes, who had regarded him every Season with an eager eye full of hope.
He had also managed to keep well out of the reach of their ambitious mothers, who felt that they would surely be fortunate enough to capture him where a great number of their friends had failed.
The Viscount would have been very stupid, which he was most certainly not, if he had not known that he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the whole of London Society.
Being exceedingly handsome, it was not surprising that every matrimonial trap was laid out carefully to catch him.
His father, the Earl of Trenthanson, was known to be one of the richest men in England.
His huge ancestral home in Oxfordshire was noted for one of the finest collection of paintings, furniture and china of any other house in the whole country.
The Viscount himself was an exceptionally bright young man, who had come away from Oxford University with the highest degrees possible as suitable awards for his exceptional intellect.
He had travelled a great deal.
Not only had he been welcomed by the Ruler of every country he visited, but had brought back information for which he was congratulated by the Prime Minister and Queen Victoria.
At the same time it was most surprising that he had managed to avoid the ties of marriage.
Finally he had at last decided that he would take a wife and produce, which was absolutely essential, an heir for his illustrious family.
He had now found that the acclaimed beauty of the Season was even more attractive than she was proclaimed to be.
In fact he believed that no one else could grace the family tiara and all the other jewellery as well as Marigold Marlow.
She came from an ancient country family. It had a Family Tree almost as long as the Viscount’s own.
The only title in it had been given to Marigold’s father, Lord Marlow, for the way that he had assisted the Cabinet in extending the British Empire even further than it was already.
Marigold Marlow had astounded the Social world from the first moment she appeared as a debutante at the age of sixteen.
That she was indeed one of the great beauties went without saying.
A number of other debutantes had perfect peaches and cream complexions, but Marigold managed to assert herself by being exceedingly amusing.
Young men who often found the average debutante somewhat heavy on hand, found themselves laughing and enjoying every word of her wit.
She was usually witty at the expense of others.
Equally it was unusual for have a debutante who could assert herself and who was not shy of anyone she had to meet.
Actually Marigold was christened just ‘Mary’ after her mother, who had dead ten years ago after a long and debilitating illness.
But she had thought, if she was to be a sensation in the Social world, ‘Mary’ sounded too dull.
She therefore, before she made her appearance, re-christened herself ‘Marigold’.
She knew that the name itself would be unusual and cause people to notice her.
And she was, in fact, determined to be noticed.
She had managed to do so by wearing clothes that were somewhat unusual for a debutante and she never had the slightest tinge of shyness about her exotic appearance wherever she went.
The Viscount at twenty-seven years of age found her most amusing and very different from any other young debutante in the Social world.
He began to look forward to the evenings when they invariably met at some smart party in London.
When he asked her to dance, he was conscious of the heady fragrance of her scent and the fact that her small hand clung to his very tightly.
Because she was not at all shy, she teased him and he found himself laughing from the moment they took to the dance floor until the moment they left it.
‘She is unique,’ he thought to himself.
There could be no one better than Marigold for the magnificent house and estate that had been in his family since the reign of Queen Elizabeth.
The house had been added to by every generation until it was filled with fabulous treasures that were envied by every Museum and connoisseur.
The Viscount had been pressured by his family ever since he left Oxford to marry and have an heir and extra heirs to be on the safe side.
“It may well be traditional,” they all said, “for the Trenthansons to have only one son, but it’s dangerous, very dangerous! If you had an accident or was killed in a war or anything like that, then our family would come to a dismal end.”
The Viscount, without being told, knew all this.
He was so used to hearing it that he merely turned a deaf ear to his relatives’ pleas and continued to enjoy being a bachelor.
He was a very popular member of White’s Club.
He laughed when he was told that they were betting over which year he would be married and if, when he did take a wife, she would be as aristocratic and distinguished as he was himself.
What had always interested him more than women were his horses.
As his father was so rich, he had given him his own racehorses as a present on his twenty-first birthday.
He rode them with joy and was not at all surprised, because he had been allowed to choose them himself, when they won one Classic race after another.
He was quite certain that this year he would claim the Gold Cup at Ascot, which so far had totally eluded him despite all his efforts.
But now he mused that even his horses would have to take second place if he married, as he intended to do, the most beautiful girl who had ever astounded and surprised London Society.
And she would certainly be the most outstanding and exquisite bride who had ever walked up the aisle on anyone’s arm.
What was more she would help him to entertain the foreign visitors who came to England to pay their respects to the Queen and to meet Members of the Cabinet and the House of Lords.
He was honoured to be their guest, which his father had enjoyed for some years. But he was now finding it somewhat arduous and was extremely anxious that his son should take his place.
The Viscount was only too willing to do so.
He knew that, if he entertained the Rulers of other countries, then he and his wife, when he had one, would be invited back.
He was, unlike many other Englishmen, proficient at speaking foreign languages and therefore on a State Visit he would miss nothing.
Lord Marlow’s house was only ten miles from the centre of London.
That was very convenient when he had to spend so much of his time at No. 10 Downing Street with the Prime Minister. He also had a house in Mayfair, but he loved the country.
He begrudged having to stay in London when he might be enjoying his garden and the dogs and horses that were his great joy.
If Lord Marlow was at home, which the Viscount thought was unlikely, he certainly would have admired the new team of chestnuts he was driving.
They were not only well-trained but also perfectly matched and so it passed through the Viscount’s mind that Lord Marlow would surely enjoy inspecting them and then congratulate their owner on such perfection.
Then he remembered that he had to be alone with Marigold if he was to propose to her as he fully intended to do.
Last night at a party given for the Prince of Wales by the Duchess of Devonshire, he had said, as they finished dancing,
“I want to talk to you alone, Marigold. Will you be at home tomorrow afternoon?”
“I will be at home,” Marigold replied, “but not in London. Papa is very anxious to drive back tonight and, of course, I am always ready to accompany him.”
“Then I will call on you tomorrow afternoon,” the Viscount said. “I have something of great importance to say to you.”
He felt that Marigold would eye him questioningly.
Instead of which she laughed and made some witty remarks that made him laugh too.
It was because she was so unusual that he enjoyed being with her.
He told himself, when he went home in the early hours of the morning, that he would definitely propose to her tomorrow.
He rather expected that it would be a surprise, even though quite a number of young men had already laid their hearts at her feet.
‘Surely no one would look lovelier in the family diamonds,’ he told himself before he went to sleep. ‘Lord Marlow has always been kind to me since I was a boy and I know that he will be delighted to have me as his son-in-law.’
He could not help thinking that a great number of old gentlemen would feel the same when his father was so rich.
After Windsor Castle Trenthanson Hall was indeed without question the most important house in England.
When the Viscount saw the gates of Lord Marlow’s house just ahead of him, he thought, with a smile, that this was the first time he had ever asked a woman to marry him.
He was quite sure that it was something he would not regret in the future.
‘And at least we will be able to laugh together,’ he reflected, ‘which is more than I can say for the majority of women who have very little sense of humour and take their love affairs too seriously.’
Because he was expected, a groom was waiting to help with the horses and to show his groom, sitting behind him, the way to the stables.
“I will let you know when I will be leaving,” the Viscount said, as he stepped out of the chaise. “See that the horses have plenty of water.”
He was always very fussy about his animals and he knew that after the fast way they had travelled and, because it was a hot day, they would be in need of a long cool drink of water.
It was unlikely that his own groom would forget, but then he never took any chances where his animals were concerned.
As he walked up the steps to the front door, a butler opened it and bowed subserviently to him.
“Miss Marlow is expecting your Lordship,” he said. “Will you come this way?”
There were two footmen in the hall dressed in the Marlow livery that was not in any way as spectacular as that of the Trents.
The butler opened the door of a room at the end of the hall and announced in stentorian tones,
“Viscount Trent, Miss Marlow.”
The large drawing room filled with flowers made, the Viscount thought, a perfect background for Marigold and her beauty.
She had been sitting by the window and when she rose the sunshine seemed to make an aura behind her that would have entranced any famous artist.
She held out her hand to the Viscount and said in her usual sparkling manner,
“You are a little later than I expected, Charles, and I was just wondering if you had forgotten me.”
“Do you imagine that I could ever do anything so ridiculous?” the Viscount asked. “I came as quickly as I could, but I was held up by a rather boring luncheon given for the German Ambassador, who was even more pompous than he usually is.”
Marigold, who was looking very lovely, laughed.
“That is something you never are,” she said. “To be honest I loathe all pomposity.”
“So do I,” he agreed. “Therefore my beautiful one, I am not going to make you a formal speech, but ask you quite simply if you will marry me.”
Just for a moment Marigold did not answer, but looked at him searchingly.
“Are you really taking the plunge?” she asked. “I always understood that you were determined to remain a bachelor until you were well over forty.”
The Viscount laughed loudly because she had said the unexpected.
“Certainly that was my intention, although I did not put it into words,” he replied, “because it would have hurt my family. But I am quite certain that together we will laugh a great deal at life.”
Marigold gave a little giggle and made a gesture with her hand.
“You will certainly look astoundingly beautiful at the Opening of Parliament,” the Viscount went on, “and be easily the loveliest Marchioness ever to grace Trenthanson Hall.”
“As you will surely be the best-looking Marquis, who has ever reigned there,” Marigold said. “I will most definitely consider your proposal very seriously.”
“Consider it!” the Viscount exclaimed.
“Yes, consider it,” Marigold answered. “I suppose you expect me to fall at your feet and say ‘yes’ at once. But actually I want to think it over. Not for a long time, only a short one.”
“But why?” he questioned. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s quite simple really,” Marigold replied. “My father loves me and we have been particularly close since my mother’s death. I could not bear for him not to be the first to know who I have given my heart to. Therefore you must wait until I have told him about your proposal and, of course, obtain his blessing on it.”
The Viscount gave a short laugh.
“I might have known,” he said, “that you would be different from anyone else. I thought that, when I finally asked a woman to be my wife, she would fling her arms round my neck and say ‘yes,’ immediately.”
“That is what I would like to do,” Marigold told him, “but, as I have already said, Papa must be the first to know. You know as well as I do that when you go back to London you would be bound to tell someone that you were engaged and that would undoubtedly be very hurtful to him.”
“Yet you intend to say ‘yes’?” the Viscount asked.
“Now you are trying to trap me into breaking my promise to my dear Papa and that is something you must not do.”
“Then just suppose you answer me with kisses,” he said.
Marigold laughed again and held up her hands as if to ward him off.
“You must behave properly and not upset me,” she protested. “Papa comes back home the day after tomorrow when I promise you that I will give you the answer to your question.”
“The day after tomorrow?” he asked. “Has he gone away?”
“No, but he is staying in London tonight because he is dining with the Prime Minister and therefore will not be here until late tomorrow. I will be asleep when he arrives and so you will have to wait until the day after, which is Wednesday, before I can give you my answer.”
“Really, Marigold!” he exclaimed. “You are not only the most exasperating woman I have ever met, but also the cleverest.”
He did not elaborate further.
But he was thinking that she was well aware that he had taken quite some time in making up his mind to marry her.
She was therefore paying him back by making him wait for her answer.
At the same time it was unusual, intriguing and in a way, fascinating.
He knew instinctively that she could keep him well at arm’s length until she finally surrendered herself.
“I might have known,” he said, “that you would be different from every other woman in the world and it’s no use my trying to change you.”
“Quite, quite useless!” Marigold agreed. “But I do think that we will laugh a great deal, not only at life but at ourselves.”
“Of course we will,” the Viscount smiled.
“I have arranged for tea to be served to us on the terrace,” she said. “I thought you might enjoy the view.”
The Viscount knew that, if they were outside on the terrace, which was a large one, it would be impossible for him to try and embrace her or to do anything in the least intimate.
There were two gardeners below. One was seeing to the fountain and the other weeding one of the flower beds.
It would be quite easy for anyone to come onto the terrace behind them without them being aware of it.
So the Viscount settled himself down in one of the comfortable chairs while Marigold poured him out a cup of tea.
She suggested he eat some of the delicious scones and cakes that were arranged on china plates on the lace tablecloth.
