The Importance of Love by Barbara Cartland Read Free Book Online Page B

watched her aunt become paler and paler.
    After having searched Great Torrington for a hotel only to find nothing suitable, they were just going over a rather rickety wooden bridge when the carriage wheel hit a pothole and was thrown up in the air.
    Although it landed safely without overturning, Aunt Edith let out a cry and fainted onto the floor of the carriage.
    â€œAunt! Aunt!” cried Luella, rushing to pick her up. But the Countess was too heavy for her and she had to call to the driver for help.
    â€œI be sorry, miss. Couldn’t help the hole,” he said shame-faced as they hauled the Countess back into her seat.
    â€œJust get us to a hotel quickly! Where are we?”
    â€œI’ll stop at the next inn and ask, miss.”
    The next inn, however, was not for miles and by now, it was almost dark.
    The carriage passed a sign saying ‘ Bideford one mile ’ and Luella instructed the driver to head in that direction.
    But in Bideford, everywhere was as dead as a grave. They crossed a bridge over a wide river and then Luella saw it. High on the hill overlooking the riverbank was a large and elegant house.
    â€˜It could be a hotel or it could be a private house,’ she conjectured. ‘In any case, it must belong to someone of importance so I shall have to throw myself on their mercy. Perhaps they will be able to direct us to a suitable place to stay. Aunt Edith cannot continue for much longer in this carriage without collapsing.’
    She ordered the driver to proceed through the iron gates and up the winding drive towards the house.
    By now the sky overhead was dark and the wind rustled through the trees, making them appear forbidding and gloomy.
    â€˜I hope they are not, as some country folk are, suspicious of strangers or worse, half mad,’ Luella murmured to herself.
    As they drew nearer, she could see that the house was in a rundown state and her heart sank. She noted the missing windowpanes and the rusting ironwork.
    The driver opened the carriage door and Luella stepped down, her heart racing.
    â€œWait here,” she ordered firmly, as she walked towards the oak front door.
    â€˜Well,’ she said to herself. ‘I must be brave and enquire – there is no other nearby house and it does look as if someone is at home. There is a candle burning in that downstairs window.’
    Lifting up the huge knocker, she let it fall, then took two steps back and waited as the hollow sound reverberated through the depths of the shabby building.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Inside Torr House Cork wearily walked towards the front door.
    All afternoon the steady stream of curious visitors to Torr House had not ceased. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to meet the new owner, who, gossip said, was the grandson of the old Marquis who used to visit his ‘Frenchwoman’ there.
    And every other person came to offer their services.
    â€œWe’ve ’eard that the Frenchwoman’s house is to be sold,” they started.
    â€œNo, it is not. His Lordship intends to live in it.”
    â€œIs he really knocking it down? T’would be a shame if he were,” said others.
    Cork fervently hoped that this latest caller would not demand to see inside the house or to ‘have a word’ with the Viscount, for he had given strict instructions that he was not to be disturbed in the library where he was working.
    Never had Cork seen such dedication.
    â€œIf it were up to his Lordship, the whole place would be rebuilt by the end of the week,” he jokingly told his wife.
    Cork opened the heavy door and was surprised to find a very attractive young lady. By her clothes he judged that she was not a local and viewed her with interest.
    â€œGood afternoon, miss,” he said politely.
    â€œI am so sorry to trouble you,” began Luella. “But my aunt, the Countess of Ridgeway, is ill and we cannot find a hotel and our coachman is lost. I wondered if you might be able to direct