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Journey To Paradise

E-BookEPUBePub WasserzeichenE-Book
298 Seiten
Englisch
Barbara Cartland Ebooks Ltderschienen am01.02.2024
Desperate to escape her fate, Kamala runs away from her brutal uncle who was to force her into a marriage with an even more brutal man of sixty. On her way to Southampton she meets a stranger, but after a hunting accident she nurses him back to health, which is the beginning of a series of adventures for them both.  An audacious plan sees them boarding a ship destined for Mexico. But when they arrive, they have to face the deadly threats of a Spanish Don who has set his sights on only one prize... Set in 1839, this thrilling tale across land and sea charters their exciting but dangerous journey, before their mutual bravery and love takes them to paradise.mehr

Produkt

KlappentextDesperate to escape her fate, Kamala runs away from her brutal uncle who was to force her into a marriage with an even more brutal man of sixty. On her way to Southampton she meets a stranger, but after a hunting accident she nurses him back to health, which is the beginning of a series of adventures for them both.  An audacious plan sees them boarding a ship destined for Mexico. But when they arrive, they have to face the deadly threats of a Spanish Don who has set his sights on only one prize... Set in 1839, this thrilling tale across land and sea charters their exciting but dangerous journey, before their mutual bravery and love takes them to paradise.
Details
Weitere ISBN/GTIN9781788677615
ProduktartE-Book
EinbandartE-Book
FormatEPUB
Format HinweisePub Wasserzeichen
FormatE101
Erscheinungsjahr2024
Erscheinungsdatum01.02.2024
ReiheThe Eternal Collection
Reihen-Nr.334
Seiten298 Seiten
SpracheEnglisch
Dateigrösse1821 Kbytes
Artikel-Nr.13511434
Rubriken
Genre9201

Inhalt/Kritik

Leseprobe

2

Where - am I?

He opened his eyes and saw a kind of golden haze, which made him think of sunshine. Then a soft voice said,

You are all right, go to sleep.

A cup was held to his lips. He drank a little and sank back into a deep, dark unconsciousness. . .

He woke again and this time he realised it was light. The room was in shadows, save for a flickering fire and two candles. He must have moved because someone rose from beside the fire and came to the bedside.

Who are you? he asked.

A vague memory came back to him of two very blue eyes.

The - fox, he murmured. Were we - in at the - kill?

No, he escaped, the same soft voice replied.

Again he was given something to drink. It was too much trouble to ask questions, he was too tired even to keep his eyes open. He came back to full consciousness to hear voices.

Yes, he is much better this morning thank you, Mrs. Hayward.

I ll be a bringing ye summat to eat on a tray, Miss. Be there anything ye fancy?

The ham you gave me yesterday was delicious. I am sure you have a secret for curing hams that is better than anyone else s.

Get along, Miss, ye be a flattering Oi, that s what ye be a doing.

If I were, it would not be surprising, seeing how kind you are to us, Mrs. Hayward.

It be a real pleasure, Miss, and that s the truth. Tis not often we have the Quality around here being so isolated, so ter speak.

We were very lucky to find your farm considering, as you say, you are so far away from any other houses or a village.

It as its advantages and its disadvantages, Miss, Mrs. Hayward said. Oi don t have no trouble with gossipin neighbours.

I am sure that is a blessing!

The two women laughed together. Then Mrs. Hayward said,

Oi ll be a getting yer lunch, and mind ye have a bit o a sleep this evening. Fred ll watch the gentleman when he comes in from the fields.

That is very kind of you, but I can manage. I slept in front of the fire yesterday afternoon and our patient was not half so troublesome last night, as he had been the night before.

No, Oi be sure he be getting better, Mrs. Hayward agreed and the door closed behind her.

The man in the bed opened his eyes. The girl with the soft voice was standing beside him, her eyes very blue, her hair as golden as he had remembered it in the pale sunshine coming through the small-paned casement window.

What - happened to me? he asked.

You broke your collar-bone, Kamala replied, and you have bad severe concussion.

I am sorry to have been such a bother! It was stupid of me to try to jump the gate when I had been riding for so many hours. My horse was tired.

He is all right, Kamala said. He was a trifle lame after the fall, but I walked him round the yard this morning and I do not think there is anything wrong with him.

The stranger glanced round the room, tried to raise himself on his pillows and winced with the pain.

Be careful! Kamala exclaimed quickly. It will hurt you unless I help.

She put one arm behind his back, lifted him expertly, and as she did so arranged the pillows under his elbow until he was comfortable. Now he could see her more closely.

Where am I? he asked, and why are you here? I do not understand.

You had a very nasty fall, she replied. You were completely unconscious for over twenty-four hours. The men carried you here on the gate. It took all their strength - you are very tall and heavy.

She smiled as she spoke.

This is a farm, he said slowly.

The nearest house for miles, Kamala answered. I cannot think what would have happened if you had fallen farther away.

You could have left me in the ditch, the stranger suggested. You have not yet explained why you are looking after me.

Kamala smiled at him.

I could not very well have you in the charge of Mrs. Hayward. She is old and she already has five menfolk to look after. Besides, someone had to set your collar-bone.

You - set it? the words were incredulous.

There was no-one else, Kamala explained. The doctor lives over five miles away and they told me quite frankly that he would not come out at night. Apparently, he indulges himself as soon as it is dark, so he would not have been much use if he had come.

So you set it, the stranger said in wondering tones. But how do you know about such things?

My father taught me.

He is a doctor?

Not exactly, but he liked looking after sick children. I must admit to being a little nervous, I had never set a man s bones before.

It was true, she thought - she had been very anxious lest she should do the wrong thing. But she had watched her father so often and on one occasion she had herself actually set the collar-bone of a boy under her father s instructions. He had a poisoned finger and had not been able to use his hands.

At the same time, it had been frightening to handle a man as big as the stranger.

The farmer and his two elder sons had carried him upstairs to the low-ceilinged, oak-beamed bedroom, which they told her was their best.

It was always used by me mother-in-law, Mrs. Hayward explained. Oi didn t fancy it meself when she died, so we keeps it for visitors, not that us have many.

It was a comfortable room even though the furniture was poor. But the bed had a feather mattress and, Kamala noted with pleasure, everything was exceptionally clean.

As the men had put the unconscious rider down, she had hurried back to the kitchen to find Mrs. Hayward and ask for linen to make bandages. They had found an old sheet and when they had torn it into strips, Kamala had come up to the bedroom to find the farmer and his sons had divested the injured man of his shirt.

For a moment Kamala had felt confused and embarrassed. She had never before seen a man naked to the waist, and the stranger had such a strongly muscled body that he bore no resemblance to the children she had tended with her father.

His skin felt cool and firm beneath her fingers and in a panic she wondered if she would ever have the strength to reset the bones in the right position. Then it seemed to her she heard her father s voice instructing her, telling her what to do. The unconscious gentleman was not a man, but a patient, someone who was suffering - someone who needed her skill and her compassion.

She had set the collarbone and bandaged his shoulder and arm into place.

Then Mrs. Hayward had brought one of her husband s nightshirts, well-worn but also well washed, and the men had slipped the gentleman into it, removing his breeches and riding boots while Kamala busied herself in the other comer of the room.

Ye husband ll be more comfortable now, Ma am, Mrs. Hayward had said as she turned from the bed.

He is not my husband, Kamala had replied, feeling the idea involved a great number of complications. He . . . he is my brother.

She did not know why she lied. It was in fact instinctive to save herself from explanations. How could she possibly tell these people that she had never set eyes on the man until a short while ago, that they had only exchanged two sentences and then had started to gallop off after the hounds on an unaccountable impulse. The farmer and his wife would never understand, and what was more they would be extremely shocked at a lady nursing a man who was no relation.

Oh ye brother! Mrs. Hayward exclaimed. That be who he be. Ah wonder why ye were not a wearing a wedding ring.

The woman might be old but she missed nothing, Kamala thought.

Then ye ll be wanting a separate bedroom, Miss, Mrs. Hayward went on.

Yes, please.

Already it was dark and Kamala had no wish to ride further that evening, whether she had a patient to attend to or not. The stranger was delirious that night, and she knew that had she not been there to calm him down and prevent him from throwing himself about, his collar-bone would have slipped out of place and her work would have been in vain. There was no question of her going the next day or the day after, she had to stay and look after him.

One thing was very certain, Uncle Marcus would not be searching for her in an isolated farm. Besides she had taken other precautions.

May Oi ask ye name, Miss? Mrs. Hayward enquired.

Yes of course, Kamala answered, my name is Lind. . .

She stopped suddenly. Supposing Uncle Marcus was making enquiries as to her whereabouts. It was stupid to give her own name.

. . .Lindham, she finished.

She knew now she must explain to the stranger the part he had to play. She felt suddenly nervous at the thought. There was something in the direct gaze of his eyes - dark eyes that seemed very penetrating. It made her feel he was a man who would dislike subterfuge and dishonesty.

Before she could begin her story he asked,

Is there anyone here who could fetch the things that were attached to my horse s saddle, or have you already had them brought upstairs?

They are here, Kamala answered.

The stranger put his hand up to his chin.

I want a shave and I expect I need a wash.

You have been washed.

I have?

Kamala blushed.

I-I washed your face and your arms, she said, and of course, owing to all your bandages, there was not a great deal...
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