Read Online Secret Harbor by Barbara Cartland - Free Book Online

plantations, I am quite certain it would have brought him in the money he needs and he need not have become beholden to other—people.”
    There was a pause before he said the last word and Grania knew he was about to say “Roderick Maigrin”, then changed his mind.
    “Papa never made very much money out of the plantation,” Grania said.
    “That is because he grew too many different crops at the same time, instead of concentrating on one for which there was a demand.”
    Grania looked at the Comte in surprise and he said with a smile:
    “My plantations were very successful, and I made a great deal of money.”
    “And you have looked at ours?”
    “Yes, I was curious about them and wondered why your father should make himself dependent on his friends and neglect what could be a considerable source of income.”
    “I have always been told that the French were practical, and yet somehow you do not look like a businessman.”
    “I am, as you say, practical,” the Comte replied, “and when my father died and I took over our plantations in Martinique, I was determined to make a success of them.”
    “And now you have lost them,” Grania said. “It is too cruel that this should happen and I am so sorry for you.”
    “I will get them back. One day they will be mine again.”
    “In the meantime, please help us with ours.”
    “I want to, for your sake,” the Comte answered, “but you must know it is impossible. All I can suggest is that you persuade your father to concentrate on growing nutmegs. They do well here, better than in other islands, and there is always a demand for them all over the world, as there has been since the beginning of time.”
    “I think Papa finds the nutmegs unattractive because they take so long to bear fruit.”
    The Comte nodded.
    “That is true—eight to nine years. But they increase in yield until they are about thirty years old and the average crop may be three to four thousand nuts per tree every year.”
    “I had no idea it was so much!” Grania exclaimed.
    “What is more they produce two main crops,” the Comte went on. “You have quite a number of trees already, although unfortunately they are crowded by other fruits and of course the undergrowth is restricting and stunting them.”
    He paused and realised that Grania was listening to him raptly, and said:
    “Forgive me, I am lecturing you. But quite frankly it distresses me to see good land and what could be good crops wasted unnecessarily.”
    “I wish you could talk to Papa like that.”
    “I doubt if he would listen to me,” the Comte replied wryly, “but perhaps you can talk to whoever runs the estate for your father.”
    “That was Abe, but Papa took him away because he could not be without him.”
    The Comte said nothing and there was silence between them.
    Grania gave an exasperated little sigh.
    “You are making me feel helpless and it is too big a problem for me.”
    “Of course it is, and it is unfair of me to talk to you like this. You should be enjoying life at your age and finding it all exciting and beautiful. Why should you have to worry about land that is unproductive and pirates who make use of your home when it is empty?” The Comte was speaking in a low voice as if he was talking to himself and Grania laughed.
    “I find pirates very exciting, and one day it will be a story to tell my children and my grandchildren, and they will think I was very adventurous.”
    She spoke lightly as she might have spoken to her father or mother.
    Then as she met the Frenchman’s eyes she knew that if she had children they would be Roderick Maigrin’s and she wanted to scream at the very idea of it.
    Instead because of the way the Comte was looking at her, she felt the colour rise slowly in her cheeks, and her heart began to beat in a very strange manner.
    Then there was the sound of voices and they were both very still as they listened.
    “It is Abe!” Grania cried in a tone of relief.
    Jumping up from her