Read Online Call of the Heart by Barbara Cartland - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Cartland
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have to leave her in God’s hands!”
Lalitha stirred and was conscious of feeling happy.
It was something which seemed to come to her from the past and she knew that she had been dreaming of her mother.
It was a dream that had been recurring again and again. Her mother had been there with her, holding her, giving her something to drink.
After she had drunk she had been able to slip back into a land of dreams where she was a child and there was nothing to frighten her.
“Mama!” she murmured.
She opened her eyes and thought that she must still be dreaming. She was in a room which she had never seen before and it was filled with sun-shine.
She could see the carved posts of the bed in which she was lying, a marble mantel-piece of exquisite design, and above it a picture of brilliant colours.
She shut her eyes.
It must all be part of her dream.
Then because she was curious she looked again, only to find that the mantel-piece and the picture were still there.
“If you are awake,” a quiet voice said beside her, “I have something for you to drink.”
Now Lalitha remembered that she had heard that voice before. It had been a part of her dreams. She had obeyed it instinctively.
An arm was slipped gently behind her shoulders and her head was raised a little to drink from a glass that was held to her lips.
Again she recognised something that had been in her dreams—the sweetness of honey in a cool liquid which had quenched her thirst.
“Where . . . am . . . I?” she managed to say weakly as the glass was taken away.
As she spoke she looked up and saw the face of an elderly woman who was smiling at her.
“You are at Roth Park.”
“Where?”
“We brought you here, M’Lady.”
“But . . . why?” Lalitha tried to say, and then she remembered. There had been the drive to the Church-yard, the strange, unaccountable feeling of her first kiss, then the terror of being dragged up the aisle and the words of the marriage-service.
She had been married!
She felt, for a moment, a shaft of fear strike through her
He had been angry, very angry, and she had been afraid.... Then she had written a letter ... a letter to Sophie! ...
Had she sent it? What had happened?
She could remember crying out in sudden terror at something that she had said; something that was wrong; something that she had promised never to reveal.
It was beginning to come back to her, but there were gaps ... gaps that were part of her fear, which was why she knew that she was afraid to remember them.
“I am going to order you some food,” said the quiet voice beside her. “You will feel better when you have eaten.”
Lalitha wanted to protest that she was not hungry.
The drink she had just had was delicious; she could still feel the sweetness of it on her tongue and it had invigorated her so that she was thinking more clearly.
She knew that the elderly woman rang the bell and gave instructions to someone at the door.
Then she came back to the bed-side.
“Are you still wondering how you got here?” the woman asked.
Lalitha looked at her and said:
“Am I. . . not in ... London?”
“No, indeed,” the elderly woman answered. “You are on His Lordship’s Estates in Hertfordshire.”
“His ... Lordship?”
The words made Lalitha quiver.
Now she remembered. It was Lord Rothwyn she had married. The Nobleman whom Sophie had jilted at the last moment.
The dark, angry, overwhelming man who had set a trap for Sophie and who had frightened her into marriage.
“How could he have done such a thing?” she asked herself. “What can Sophie have thought when she realised that she had been tricked?”
The question made her think of Lady Studley and she trembled.
“Does . . . does my Step-mother . . . know where I . . . am?” she asked in a voice that was little above a whisper.
“I don’t know,” the elderly woman answered, “and you need not worry about her or anyone else. His Lordship is looking after you.”
“He-he
Lalitha stirred and was conscious of feeling happy.
It was something which seemed to come to her from the past and she knew that she had been dreaming of her mother.
It was a dream that had been recurring again and again. Her mother had been there with her, holding her, giving her something to drink.
After she had drunk she had been able to slip back into a land of dreams where she was a child and there was nothing to frighten her.
“Mama!” she murmured.
She opened her eyes and thought that she must still be dreaming. She was in a room which she had never seen before and it was filled with sun-shine.
She could see the carved posts of the bed in which she was lying, a marble mantel-piece of exquisite design, and above it a picture of brilliant colours.
She shut her eyes.
It must all be part of her dream.
Then because she was curious she looked again, only to find that the mantel-piece and the picture were still there.
“If you are awake,” a quiet voice said beside her, “I have something for you to drink.”
Now Lalitha remembered that she had heard that voice before. It had been a part of her dreams. She had obeyed it instinctively.
An arm was slipped gently behind her shoulders and her head was raised a little to drink from a glass that was held to her lips.
Again she recognised something that had been in her dreams—the sweetness of honey in a cool liquid which had quenched her thirst.
“Where . . . am . . . I?” she managed to say weakly as the glass was taken away.
As she spoke she looked up and saw the face of an elderly woman who was smiling at her.
“You are at Roth Park.”
“Where?”
“We brought you here, M’Lady.”
“But . . . why?” Lalitha tried to say, and then she remembered. There had been the drive to the Church-yard, the strange, unaccountable feeling of her first kiss, then the terror of being dragged up the aisle and the words of the marriage-service.
She had been married!
She felt, for a moment, a shaft of fear strike through her
He had been angry, very angry, and she had been afraid.... Then she had written a letter ... a letter to Sophie! ...
Had she sent it? What had happened?
She could remember crying out in sudden terror at something that she had said; something that was wrong; something that she had promised never to reveal.
It was beginning to come back to her, but there were gaps ... gaps that were part of her fear, which was why she knew that she was afraid to remember them.
“I am going to order you some food,” said the quiet voice beside her. “You will feel better when you have eaten.”
Lalitha wanted to protest that she was not hungry.
The drink she had just had was delicious; she could still feel the sweetness of it on her tongue and it had invigorated her so that she was thinking more clearly.
She knew that the elderly woman rang the bell and gave instructions to someone at the door.
Then she came back to the bed-side.
“Are you still wondering how you got here?” the woman asked.
Lalitha looked at her and said:
“Am I. . . not in ... London?”
“No, indeed,” the elderly woman answered. “You are on His Lordship’s Estates in Hertfordshire.”
“His ... Lordship?”
The words made Lalitha quiver.
Now she remembered. It was Lord Rothwyn she had married. The Nobleman whom Sophie had jilted at the last moment.
The dark, angry, overwhelming man who had set a trap for Sophie and who had frightened her into marriage.
“How could he have done such a thing?” she asked herself. “What can Sophie have thought when she realised that she had been tricked?”
The question made her think of Lady Studley and she trembled.
“Does . . . does my Step-mother . . . know where I . . . am?” she asked in a voice that was little above a whisper.
“I don’t know,” the elderly woman answered, “and you need not worry about her or anyone else. His Lordship is looking after you.”
“He-he
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