An Introduction to the Pink Collection. Barbara Cartland

who will make me happy, even if we are not particularly rich.”

      “I think you’re right,” she said, concentrating on what she was doing, and not looking at him.

      “But you don’t think I’ll keep to my resolution?” he asked, shooting her a look.

      “I think it could be hard for you if he says he’ll restore The Grange. Suppose he gives you enough money to repair it and bring the estate to life again. You could spend your life, in future, as a country gentleman, with of course, horses and dogs to verify it.”

      There was silence for a moment. Then the Earl walked to the window in the kitchen and stood looking out. Rena thought he was looking at the part of the kitchen garden which was desperately untidy.

      There were a few cabbages and onions, but for each one of them, there were at least a dozen weeds.

      “I suppose,” she mused, “if she loved you, you would perhaps, in time, come to love her.”

      She wanted to add ‘and her money’, but thought that sounded rude.

      John turned from the window and said in a very positive tone, which seemed somehow to echo round the kitchen:

      “I will not sell myself for what they call in the Bible, ‘a mess of pottage.’ Although it might now be thousands of pounds.”

      “Well done.”

      “I would rather starve than find myself married to a woman for whom I have no feelings, and be subservient to a man with whom I have nothing in common.”

      He spoke almost violently.

      “But what else can you do?” Rena asked.

      “What did you say?”

      “Perhaps you should think hard before saying no.” She didn’t know why she was urging him to a course of action that she would hate, but there seemed to be a little demon inside her playing Devil’s Advocate.

      “You must remember how dilapidated the house is already. The villagers thought the roof would fall in last Christmas when we had a great deal of snow. By a miracle, it survived, but I doubt if it will next winter.”

      He gave her a strange smile.

      “Rena, are you urging me to marry for money?”

      “No, not exactly, but – are you wise to make a grand gesture, if you might regret it afterwards? This place already means a lot to you. Maybe it will come to mean everything. If you turn down the chance to restore this estate, maybe one day you will regret it.”

      She found she was holding her breath for his answer. And for some reason it was desperately important.

      “The only thing I will regret,” he said at last, “is putting money before everything. Rena, I’ve learned to trust in fortune. I inherited this property after everyone had been quite certain there was no heir to the Earldom. I found you, and you found the hidden glories beneath the ancient cross.”

      “Yes,” she said, glowing with happiness. “Yes!”

      He took her hands. “Don’t you see, there is more to come. Much more. The future is full of surprises that we can’t imagine, but which are waiting for us.”

      His fervent tone convinced her. This was something he really felt, just as she would feel the same in his position.

      “Do I sound like a madman to you?” he asked anxiously.

      “Not at all. I know just what you mean?”

      “I knew you’d understand. Anyone else would have me put under restraint for such wild talk, but not you. We’ve only known each other a few hours, and yet already you’re the best friend I have. I can tell you things I could tell nobody else. So, keep your hand in mine, my dear friend, and nothing can defeat us.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      With only time to clean one room they settled on the drawing room. John helped her, and proved more adept than she had feared.

      “It’s being in the Navy,” he said. “A man develops certain domestic skills.”

      He joined her for tea in the kitchen, while she worked out the refreshments she would serve their guests.

      “Tell me more about Mr Wyngate,” she said.

      “He’s a bit of a mystery man. Nobody knows exactly where he came from, or how he got the money he started with. There’s a rumour that his name isn’t even Wyngate, but nobody knows the truth about that either. However he started, he made a vast fortune in American railroads.”

      “You mean he’s American?”

      “Not necessarily. That’s just the first place anybody heard of him. He turned up in America, with money that he invested in railroads, and made a fortune, helped, it is said, by marrying an American lady who had money. She died over there a few years ago.

      “Then he came to England and started investing in railways here. He might have been looking for fresh fields to conquer, or he might have been English to start with and returned to his roots, but – ”

      “Nobody knows,” she finished with him.

      “Exactly right. He made another fortune here, then took his daughter and went travelling. I met him in India eighteen months ago, when my ship docked at Bombay. He’d taken over the entire Hotel Raj, and was busy competing with the local Maharajah to see who could spend the most money, the most ostentatiously.

      “He gave a ball for his daughter Matilda. I did hear that he’d invited the Viceroy as well, but received a polite refusal, which incensed him. In fact it was rather thin of European guests because nobody liked him very much. He made up the numbers by issuing an invitation to the senior officers of my ship, The Achilles, and that’s how I came to be there.

      “He writes to me as if we’d formed an eternal friendship, but that was my only meeting with him. I’ve heard a lot about him, but it’s the silences that tell the most.”

      “Silences?”

      “If you mention his name people go silent, like birds when a hawk has flown over. He’s rich enough to buy anything in the world – or he thinks he is. The trouble is, he’s too often right. So many people will sell if the offer is great enough, and now he can’t imagine anybody saying no.”

      “Does the young woman want to marry you?” Rena asked quietly. “What kind of a person is she?”

      “I only met her once, at the ball, and formed very little impression of her personality.”

      “Is she pretty?” Rena asked, busying herself with mixing a cake.

      “Not really. She’s very quiet, and some men might find that charming. But me – I don’t know – she’s not for me. I like a woman who has more to say for herself.”

      “Then you’re different to most men,” Rena observed, smiling. “Most of them like a woman who keeps quiet and lets them do the talking.”

      “Indeed?” He raised his eyebrows quizzically. “And may I ask how you obtained this vast knowledge?”

      “From my mother,” she laughed. “Who obtained it from her mother, doubtless. Gentlemen do not like a chatterbox. Gentlemen do not like a woman who puts forward her opinions, especially if they are contrary to their own. In fact a real lady has no opinions.”

      “Heavens! What a bore! I must say, it sounds just like Matilda Wyngate. Poor girl. I don’t mean to be unkind to her. She’d be the perfect wife for a man of a different temperament to me.”

      “I feel rather sorry for her!” said Rena. “Perhaps she has no idea what her father is planning.”

      “Perhaps. I can just imagine him not bothering to tell her. Once he’d made his plans, he’s just the sort of man to dispense with