Read Online An Introduction to the Pink Collection by Barbara Cartland - Free Book Online Page B

the back of her neck as she recognised evil.
    She had never met it before. It had been a theory, a biblical abstraction. Now, at this moment she knew, unmistakeably, that she was in its presence.
    Standing beside him was his daughter. She was exquisitely dressed in what Rena assumed must be the very latest fashion. Her clothes were trimmed with fur, her brooch was pearl and her ear-rings were diamonds. Somebody was bent on announcing to the world that she was the daughter of a rich man.
    And that same somebody had more money than taste, since Rena’s mother, who had belonged to the gentry in her youth, had once told her that no lady ever wore diamonds before six in the evening, and then never with pearls.
    â€œGood afternoon, ma’am.”
    â€œMy name is Wyngate. Lansdale is expecting me.”
    His voice was unpleasant and grating, and the way he said “Lansdale” made it clear that he already felt able to command here.
    She murmured something respectful and stood back to let them pass. Mr Wyngate  shrugged off his coat and tossed it to her without a second glance. His silver topped stick followed.
    Now that he was divested of his top coat Rena could see that there was something strange about his body. He was not a tall man, but his shoulders were very broad and his arms very long. His head, too, was slightly too large for his body. In fact he reminded her of a picture of an ape that she had once seen in a picture book at home.
    Then John was there, striding across the hall on his long legs, looking, Rena thought, more handsome than any man had the right to. And it seemed absurd to think that Miss Matilda Wyngate would not fall in love with him.
    â€œGood to see you again Lansdale,” Wyngate grated. “You remember my daughter.” It was a statement, not a question.
    â€œI remember Miss Wyngate with great pleasure,” John said politely.
    Matilda smiled up at him in a way that reminded Rena of John’s words. “She’s very quiet, and some men might find that charming.”
    It was true. Matilda was no beauty but neither was she plain. Her oval face was pale, her demeanour was shy, and she did have charm.
    â€œI remember Your Lordship very well,” she said softly.
    â€œNone of that,” her father said curtly. “You don’t have to ‘lordship’ him. We’re Lansdale’s equals any day.”
    â€œIndeed you are,” John said. “And you are both very welcome to my house. Rena – ” he turned to her unexpectedly, “please come and meet our guests.”
    The idea of a man introducing his housekeeper was outrageous, and plainly Mr Wyngate  thought so too, for he turned cold eyes on Rena.
    â€œThis is my cousin, Mrs. Colwell,” John continued, apparently oblivious to their astonishment. “She is visiting me to help me look after the house.”
    There was a twinkle in his eyes as he added: “She will tell you she has found it even worse than she had expected. Rena, my dear, these are my friends. Mr Wyngate  who has been very kind to me and his charming daughter, Matilda who has come with him to see the ruins which have so shocked us.”
    Rena shook hands with them both, her head whirling.
    It was all very well trying her hand at being an actress, but she had not expected the role to change without warning.
    Then she realised that John had forgotten one essential stage ‘prop’.
    A wedding ring.
    Where could she find a wedding ring at a moment’s notice? Did men ever think of anything?
    To conceal the bareness of her left hand she thrust it into the pocket of her dress. And there, to her surprise she found a broken ring which had fallen from one of the pictures. She had taken it down because it was dangerous.
    Quickly she slipped the ring on her finger, keeping the broken part well hidden. With luck, it would pass as a wedding ring, if nobody looked too closely.
    â€œI do hope,” she