The Temptation of Torilla by Barbara Cartland Read Free Book Online Page B

which she thought were the marks of cynicism – or was it boredom?
    She felt suddenly very young and very inexperienced and almost wished she was travelling in the coach rather than with a stranger.
    Then he turned to smile at her and quite unreasonably she felt that the sun had come out.
    “Are you all right?” he asked.
    “Your horses are magnificent, sir!” she replied.
    “I am glad you should think so.”
    “They are finer than any I have ever seen, except perhaps for those you drove yesterday.”
    The Marquis looked at her in surprise and she explained,
    “I love horses. While we were waiting this morning for the coach, I looked into the stables at the inn and a groom told me that four superb chestnuts belonged to – Sir Alexander Abdy.”
    She paused before she asked,
    “That is you, is it not, sir?”
    “That is my name,” the Marquis agreed.
    “Then I would like to – thank you again,” she said in a low voice.
    “Forget it,” the Marquis said briefly. “There is no need to talk or even to think of anything that is no longer of any consequence. I would like, however, to know who you are.”
    “I am Torilla Clifford,” she answered.
    “Torilla,” the Marquis repeated. ‘I don’t think I have ever heard that name before. It becomes you.”
    He saw that even at such a very mild compliment the colour rose in her face and he told himself he must be careful not to frighten her as she had been scared already.
    He was not used to the company of young girls, but he sensed that Torilla was rather exceptional and not only in her looks.
    He had not been mistaken when he had thought last night that not only was she very lovely but there was something sensitive about her.
    It was an attribute he had found singularly lacking among the daughters of the aristocracy who had been pressed upon him on his journey North.
    He talked about his horses, where he had bought them and their breeding. He realised that Torilla, unlike most women, was not pretending, but was in fact vitally interested in everything he said.
    She also asked him some intelligent questions, which told him that she not only loved horses but also had studied racing form. He began to wonder who she was and where she came from.
    He was not to know that the Earl of Fernleigh had a racing stable and that Beryl and Torilla as children vied with the stable boys in picking the winners of every important race.
    It was not long before The George and Dragon, an ancient Posting House with a history of highwaymen, came into sight.
    “As we are both staying here,” the Marquis said, “I should be honoured, Miss Clifford, if you would dine with me this evening.”
    She looked at him with what he knew was surprise and he added,
    “I have a private room and I am quite certain that the dinner provided for me will be very much better than the menu selected for the stagecoach passengers.”
    “That would not be difficult, judging by last night’s meal,” Torilla smiled.
    “Then you will dine with me?”
    She looked at him and there was a worried look in her blue eyes.
    “It would not be – wrong?”
    “Wrong?” he questioned.
    “I – I am travelling – alone,” she said, “and I don’t know – if it would be correct for me to – accept the invitation of someone to whom I have not been – introduced.”
    She spoke hesitantly and gave him a glance as if she was afraid that he might laugh at her.
    But the Marquis replied quite gravely,
    “I think, considering the unusual circumstances in which we met, we may consider ourselves introduced, Miss Clifford. Moreover, if you are with me, there will be no chance of your being subjected to the odious attentions of anyone who might be dining in the coffee room.”
    He saw a little shiver go through her as she recalled what had happened last night and she said quickly,
    “I would much – rather be with – you.”
    “Then that is settled!” the Marquis said. “I am afraid I keep late hours and so I