Love Became Theirs by Barbara Cartland Page A

has been."
    "Ah! A lady of taste and discernment. I like that."
    "You are impertinent, sir. I have no interest in what you like."
    "Foiled again!" he said with an exaggerated sigh that made her laugh. "Well, I guessed that winning your good opinion wasn't going to be easy."
    "Probably quite impossible," she said.
    "Would it help if I grew a moustache?" he asked hopefully.
    "You haven't the style for it. I advise you not to waste your time."
    "But I never take good advice, ma'am. It's the code I live by."
    "Then you will surely come to grief."
    After a moment he said in a strange voice,
    "How do you know I haven't already come to grief?"
    She hesitated, not sure how to reply. He could have meant so many things.
    "Well, if you have, you're very cheerful under it," she said, trying to gain time.
    "But how do you know that what you see is real?" he asked. "Perhaps I'm really wearing a mask?"
    Her heart began to beat quickly.
    "I think you would wear a mask better than most people," she agreed. "Perhaps several."
    He gave a quick intake of breath as though her words had gone home. She was startled by the sight of his face which had grown suddenly pale.
    "Astute of you, ma'am," he said in a soft voice. "A shrewd guess? Or are you too, perhaps, wearing a mask?"
    "Do you believe I am?"
    He had recovered himself and was looking at her, with a curious half smile. She noticed again what a wide, mobile mouth he had, and suddenly she was assailed by the memory of firm lips covering her own, moving seductively in a kiss given by a man determined that she should never forget him.
    'Was it you?' she thought desperately. 'Was it your arms that held me, your mouth that caressed mine until I could not think, only feel?'
    In a moment surely he would say something to end her confusion.
    Then she heard a shout from behind. Somebody said,
    "Hey, look who's over there."
    Everybody's eyes turned to where the Countess Rostoya and her brother were cantering towards them.
    "I must pay my respects," said Peter. "Your pardon ma'am."
    He tipped his hat to Rona and, with no further ado, spurred his horse forward towards the Countess. Rona saw him pull up beside her, take her hand in his and kiss it fervently.
    The spell was broken. One moment she had held all his attention, and he had seemed on the verge of saying something momentous.
    But now he had forgotten all about her.

CHAPTER SIX
    By common consent the two parties joined up. Count Rostoy immediately fell in beside Rona, seized her hand, kissed it and pressed it theatrically to his bosom. Since his behaviour reminded her more of clowning than of passion, she was not offended.
    "I have spent the whole night thinking of your beauty," he said in throbbing accents.
    "What a shocking waste of time!" she declared. "You should have been thinking of heiresses."
    "True, but what can I do when you are so beautiful and so cruel?"
    From behind them came the sound of a giggle. Alice was listening and enjoying herself. Not in the least disconcerted, the Count turned and saluted her, grinning.
    The Russian didn't have everything as he pleased. Henri, determined not to be outdone by his brother, Marcel, joined Rona on the other side and made a determined bid for her attention. He and the Count enjoyed a cheerful duel for the next mile, but they were both baulked by the fact that the lady's attention kept wandering. She was trying to keep Alice in view.
    Sometimes this was easy as the girl rode almost level with her. Sometimes she fell behind, and sometimes she began to drift off down side paths, with the two younger sons, and Rona had to call her back. Alice would make a face, but she always returned obediently.
    It pleased Rona to see that Alice was a very good rider. Her horse was docile, and presented little challenge, but the girl clearly had a natural skill.
    Rona's own mount was more spirited and she had to concentrate to keep it under control. But her Papa had insisted on her being taught by the best teachers,