Follow Your Heart by Barbara Cartland Page B

Marquis of Chorlton.
    They had talked at one time or another about all the landowners in Dorset, Berkshire, Surrey, and Sussex, all Counties on one side or the other of Hampshire.
    Della knew her uncle had quite a number of friends in Dorset and the same applied to Berkshire, but she could not remember him talking about anyone he was friendly with in Wiltshire.
    She was still puzzling over the name when Piramus called from the steps,
    â€œMy Lord here.”
    â€œAs he is coming to see you,” Della asked Lendi, “would you like me to leave?”
    â€œNo, you stay where you are,” Lendi responded immediately. “But Mireli to go away, I not want him to meet her.”
    Della thought this sounded odd, but as Lendi was the most important elder of the gypsy tribe, it would have been very foolish to argue with her.
    She therefore remained seated as she was on the floor beside the bed.
    There were voices below and a moment later a man came up the steps into the caravan.
    He was tall and had to bend his head to enter.
    He was also broad–shouldered, but his figure was slim as if he was an athlete.
    Then as Della could see him clearly, she realised he was very much younger than she had expected.
    She had thought that because he was a Marquis and owned a large estate, he would be a much older man, perhaps the same age as her uncle.
    The gentleman inside the caravan was obviously only in his twenties.
    At the same time he was extremely good-looking. He moved lightly towards the bed and took Lendi’s hand in his.
    â€œI am very distressed,” he began in a deep voice, “to hear you are ill. I have been looking forward to seeing you and I need your help.”
    â€œI always ready to help Your Lordship and we are glad to be back – with you.”
    â€œAnd I am more glad than I can say to see you,” replied the Marquis. “I have been counting the days and been afraid you might have forgotten me in your travels.”
    â€œWe could never,” answered Lendi. “Now tell, my Lord, what is wrong?”
    The Marquis sat down at the end of the bed and as he did so he glanced, for the first time, at Della.
    She felt he was questioning her presence in the caravan and she would have risen, but Lendi put out her hand.
    It was a gesture that told Della without words that she was to stay where she was.
    The Marquis paused and then as if he thought Della was of no particular consequence, he murmured,
    â€œI have a problem, Lendi, which only you can solve.”
    â€œTell me, my Lord.”
    â€œI have a niece, the daughter of my elder brother who, I expect you remember, died four years ago.”
    â€œI do remember. That first year we visited – your Lordship.”
    â€œThat is right,” agreed the Marquis. “Alice was only a child then, but you may remember her coming to see you on at least three occasions.”
    â€œI remember – very pretty girl. I told her fortune.”
    â€œI hoped you would remember,” smiled the Marquis, “because it is something I want you to do again.”
    â€œFor important reason?”
    â€œI was sure you would know before I told you, but yes, a very important reason. It is a difficult problem and one which I think only you can solve.”
    â€œTell me.”
    â€œSoon after she was born Alice was left a very large fortune by her Godfather. He had no children of his own and was devoted to my brother. Therefore when he died unexpectedly from an accident, he left all his money to Alice.”
    Della was listening intrigued by the story.
    â€œBecause my brother felt it a great mistake,” the Marquis continued, “for anyone to know how rich she was, he kept it as secret as possible. But after his death which was followed a year later by his wife’s, it was impossible to keep people from knowing about Alice’s fortune.”
    Lendi’s eyes were on the Marquis.
    Listening to him Della was