Read Online Call of the Heart by Barbara Cartland - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Cartland
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lank strands to her shoulders. Now her eyes seemed almost to fill her small face, and although the line of her chin was sharp, her skin was translucently clear and had a faint flush of colour.
Her hair seemed fuller and more buoyant with a slight wave. It was parted in the centre and fell on each side of her face.
“I look... different!” she said at last.
“You will look very different before I’ve finished with you!” Nattie promised. “But you will have to do as I say!”
Lalitha smiled.
She knew that half-bullying, half-affectionate note which every Nurse used to her charges.
It was just the way her own Nurse had spoken to her and it, hid a tenderness which she had never received from anyone else.
She knew it was love, in some ways like the love she had received from her mother, and in another way different, because Nurse would never ‘stand any nonsense.’
“I will do what... you tell me,” she said. “I want to get... well.”
Even as she spoke she wondered if that was really true.
If she were well, would there not be problems to face? And one problem was greater than all the others.
She did not even have to express it to herself; she just knew that the thought of him, large, frightening, and angry, was there, however much she might try to escape from it.
Nattie brought her a fresh night-gown, an elegant creation of soft lawn trimmed with lace, and brushed her hair.
Before she did so she rubbed into it a lotion which she said the Herb-Woman had given her.
“What is it?” Lalitha asked.
“Cinquefoil, or as we used to call it as children, ‘Fivefingered grass,’ ” Nattie replied. “It is the herb of Jupiter.”
“Does it really make the hair grow?” Lalitha enquired.
“Your hair has grown quite considerably since you have been ill,” Nattie replied. “But then it always does when a body is unconscious.”
“I never knew that!” Lalitha exclaimed.
“It’s true!”
“How could I have been unconscious for so long?”
“You could have awakened after a time, but you would only have been confused and unhappy, so we kept Your Ladyship asleep.”
“With herbs, of course!” Lalitha said with a smile.
“Sleep is the healing of the Lord,” Nattie said, “but we assisted Him a little.”
“What did the Herb-Woman give me for that?” Lalitha enquired curiously.
“I think it was privet, St. John’s Wort, and white poppy,” Nattie answered, “but you will have to ask her yourself. Although she does not always give her secrets away.”
Nattie brushed Lalitha’s hair until she felt that it was almost dancing around her shoulders; then, because so much attention had tired her, she slept again.
When she awoke it was afternoon.
Tea was brought in and tiny sandwiches, again exquisitely served. When she had finished it Nattie said:
“His Lordship would like to speak to you.”
“His ... Lordship?” Lalitha could hardly breathe the words. Instinctively her hands went up to her breast, as if she would protect herself.
“He has been to see you every day,” Nattie went on, “to watch your improvement.”
She gave a little laugh.
“It was almost as if Your Ladyship were one of those buildings on which he spends so much of his time! ”
Lalitha could not answer.
She was trembling.
How could she see Lord Rothwyn? What could she say to him?
A sudden thought came to her.
He would want to discuss the future and how he could be rid of her.
She hardly noticed that Nattie had brought from a drawer a wrap made of chiffon and trimmed with wide lace, which she put round her shoulders.
She tidied Lalitha’s hair again and then patted the pillows behind her.
Then, as if she knew instinctively that he was approaching the door, she reached it even as he knocked.
“Come in, M’Lord.”
She opened it for him and he walked in.
Lalitha held her breath.
She had somehow expected him to be in black, as he had been that night at the Church.
She remembered his flapping cape
Her hair seemed fuller and more buoyant with a slight wave. It was parted in the centre and fell on each side of her face.
“I look... different!” she said at last.
“You will look very different before I’ve finished with you!” Nattie promised. “But you will have to do as I say!”
Lalitha smiled.
She knew that half-bullying, half-affectionate note which every Nurse used to her charges.
It was just the way her own Nurse had spoken to her and it, hid a tenderness which she had never received from anyone else.
She knew it was love, in some ways like the love she had received from her mother, and in another way different, because Nurse would never ‘stand any nonsense.’
“I will do what... you tell me,” she said. “I want to get... well.”
Even as she spoke she wondered if that was really true.
If she were well, would there not be problems to face? And one problem was greater than all the others.
She did not even have to express it to herself; she just knew that the thought of him, large, frightening, and angry, was there, however much she might try to escape from it.
Nattie brought her a fresh night-gown, an elegant creation of soft lawn trimmed with lace, and brushed her hair.
Before she did so she rubbed into it a lotion which she said the Herb-Woman had given her.
“What is it?” Lalitha asked.
“Cinquefoil, or as we used to call it as children, ‘Fivefingered grass,’ ” Nattie replied. “It is the herb of Jupiter.”
“Does it really make the hair grow?” Lalitha enquired.
“Your hair has grown quite considerably since you have been ill,” Nattie replied. “But then it always does when a body is unconscious.”
“I never knew that!” Lalitha exclaimed.
“It’s true!”
“How could I have been unconscious for so long?”
“You could have awakened after a time, but you would only have been confused and unhappy, so we kept Your Ladyship asleep.”
“With herbs, of course!” Lalitha said with a smile.
“Sleep is the healing of the Lord,” Nattie said, “but we assisted Him a little.”
“What did the Herb-Woman give me for that?” Lalitha enquired curiously.
“I think it was privet, St. John’s Wort, and white poppy,” Nattie answered, “but you will have to ask her yourself. Although she does not always give her secrets away.”
Nattie brushed Lalitha’s hair until she felt that it was almost dancing around her shoulders; then, because so much attention had tired her, she slept again.
When she awoke it was afternoon.
Tea was brought in and tiny sandwiches, again exquisitely served. When she had finished it Nattie said:
“His Lordship would like to speak to you.”
“His ... Lordship?” Lalitha could hardly breathe the words. Instinctively her hands went up to her breast, as if she would protect herself.
“He has been to see you every day,” Nattie went on, “to watch your improvement.”
She gave a little laugh.
“It was almost as if Your Ladyship were one of those buildings on which he spends so much of his time! ”
Lalitha could not answer.
She was trembling.
How could she see Lord Rothwyn? What could she say to him?
A sudden thought came to her.
He would want to discuss the future and how he could be rid of her.
She hardly noticed that Nattie had brought from a drawer a wrap made of chiffon and trimmed with wide lace, which she put round her shoulders.
She tidied Lalitha’s hair again and then patted the pillows behind her.
Then, as if she knew instinctively that he was approaching the door, she reached it even as he knocked.
“Come in, M’Lord.”
She opened it for him and he walked in.
Lalitha held her breath.
She had somehow expected him to be in black, as he had been that night at the Church.
She remembered his flapping cape
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