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Authors: Barbara Cartland

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BOOK: 108. An Archangel Called Ivan
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Yet somehow she knew that she was being guided in the right direction.

Somehow, perhaps by some miracle she would find what she was seeking and could view the world in a very different way from how she was viewing it at the moment.

‘Please God help me,’ she prayed fervently and felt sure that her prayer would be heard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

Arliva’s alarm that her father had given her a long time ago, which he had bought in France, went off at six o’clock.

She knew that she had plenty of time before she left because she had everything ready last night.

At the same time she took a great deal of trouble in dressing herself in her plainest and most ordinary-looking clothes.

She put on the hat she had worn yesterday from which she had removed the feathers.

Then she gazed at herself in the mirror and felt that her face looked very young.

She carefully drew a line under both her eyes with a pencil and was certain that it made her look at least five years older than she actually was.

She was about to put on her glasses, but thought it might be rather intimidating for the children to see their Governess with huge dark glasses, so she tucked them into her pocket.

She waited until it was nearly seven o’clock when she knew that the whole staff would be having breakfast.

Her aunt, because she was not very strong, did not rise early and she usually rang the bell to be called just before ten o’clock.

So there was no one in the front of the house and when she went to the top of the stairs she saw that the hall was empty.

She found the case she had packed a considerable amount of clothes into was very heavy.

But somehow she managed to get down the stairs, open the front door and walk out as quickly as she could manage it into Park Lane.

She knew there was usually a place where Hackney carriages accumulated and she made her way to it and she was very pleased when she saw ahead that there were quite a number of carriages waiting for passengers.

Arliva’s arm was by now aching considerably from the weight of the heavy case.

She stopped at the first one and the driver, who was sitting on the box, turned round to say,

“Can I take you anywhere, miss?”

“I wish to go to King’s Cross Station,” she replied.

“I’ll take you there in a jiffy,” he answered cheerily jumping down from the box and taking hold of the heavy case from her.

He put it behind his seat and then opened the door for her to climb into the carriage.

It smelt rather musty after the very smart carriages her father had always used.

She felt, as she drove away, that she was setting off on a marvellous adventure with golden wings.

‘No one will be able to find me for a long time,’ she told herself, ‘and by then I may well have found all that I am seeking.’

It seemed to her that they reached King’s Cross Station in a very short time because she was so deep in her own thoughts.

The driver handed her case down to a porter.

“Where be you goin’, miss?” he enquired.

Arliva had the directions that Mrs. Hill had given her and she read them to the porter.

“That ’ere train be in now,” he said. “But it won’t be leavin’ till eight o’clock.”

“I am quite prepared to wait,” Arliva answered. “So, if you will find me a comfortable carriage, I will be very happy.”

The porter laughed.

“It’s what all travellers ’opes they’ll be and many be disappointed.”

She paid the Hackney carriage driver his fare and it included a good tip.

He looked at it in surprise and then said,

“Thank you very much, miss. I ’opes you ’ave a good journey.”

“That is what I hope myself,” Arliva replied.

She smiled at him before she turned to follow the porter.

He was wheeling her case in his trolley and they walked quite a long way until, in one of the platforms, she saw a small train that was obviously the one travelling to Huntingdonshire.

The porter found her an empty carriage – in fact they were all more or less empty.

He then put her case in the guard’s van.

She tipped him and he touched his forelock.

“That be the first I’ve ’ad today,” he said, “and you be a real lady bringin’ me luck.”

“That is what I am looking for myself,” she sighed.

“Then perhaps you’ll find it!” the porter exclaimed. “I thinks lookin’ as you do you’ll win one way or another.”

“I can only hope your good wishes will come true,” Arliva answered, “and thank you for bringing me here.”

She sat down in the carriage and wondered what would happen when the housemaid called her and found her bedroom empty with the letter to Aunt Molly lying on the pillow.

She knew that the older servants would be shocked at the idea of her going out alone so early in the morning as she was always expected to have someone in attendance.

And they would be even more surprised that she had left without travelling in one of the many carriages that belonged to her.

She knew, however, that everything would carry on exactly as it had for the last ten or fifteen years and the same applied to the house in the country.

Her father had chosen very skilful and trustworthy men to be in charge of the house and the estate, just as the older servants, who had been in the house in Park Lane, had been in charge for nearly the same length of time.

‘I suppose I am very lucky in having them,’ Arliva mused.

At the same time it was yet another of the many attractions that acted as a bait to those men who valued her possessions more than her.

During the next quarter-of-an-hour people began to arrive on the platform and climb into the empty carriages.

Arliva hoped that she would travel alone.

But just before it was time to leave, a young man, who she thought looked as if he was a salesman or perhaps a senior clerk, entered her carriage.

He sat at the other end from where she was sitting and he looked at her once or twice but did not speak.

The train then started to leave with a great deal of puffing and clanking.

They had travelled some way before the young man asked Arliva somewhat tentatively,

“I wonder if you would mind if I smoke. I did not realise when I boarded the train that this one was a non-smoking carriage.”

“It will not worry me,” Arliva replied.

She thought, as she was speaking, just how many cigars her father had smoked during the day.

She had grown used to the smell of his cigars and he had often said that they helped him to think.

“Not that I would approve of women smoking,” he had added quickly. “So I refuse to allow you to even try it.”

“I have no wish to do so,” Arliva had answered, “but I like the aroma of your cigars.”

“I used to buy them when I could afford it,” her father replied, “but now I find they help me to think out my plans and I pride myself that, if I have a problem, by the time I have finished my cigar I have solved it!”

“Then, as you have so many problems, Papa, your cigars must always be at hand.”

“Absolutely right!” her father had chuckled.

The young man had by now opened his cigarette case and Arliva saw that it was quite an expensive-looking one.

“Can I offer you a cigarette?” he asked.

Arliva shook her head.

“It’s very kind of you, but I don’t smoke.”

“Quite right too,” he said. “I don’t like women who smoke. They always smell of it and seem to make more mess of smoking than a man does.”

Arliva laughed.

“I am sure you are right, but I think that smoking is essentially a man’s pleasure and if women smoke there just seems something wrong about it.”

She thought as she spoke that some of the Society Dowagers had begun to smoke.

Their contemporaries had been very rude about it, while the younger men had said definitely it spoilt a pretty girl if she smelt of cigarettes and it was not attractive to watch her smoking.

When he had offered her a cigarette, the young man had moved almost opposite her.

Now he asked,

“Where are you going?”

Arliva thought it a mistake to give him her address, so she replied,

“I am getting off at Huntingdon.”

“Oh, I know that part of the country,” he said. “I think you’ll find it very dull.”

“I have already been told so,” Arliva replied. “But, as I am going to look after children, I should expect that they will keep me busy.”

“So you’re a Governess!” the man exclaimed.

Arliva nodded.

There was silence for a moment before he said,

“It’s only the rich who can afford a Governess for their children. I was sent to school almost as soon as I could toddle and I hated the other children who teased me and knocked me about until I was old enough to hit them back.”

“Which I am sure you did very effectively.”

She realised that he was nearly six foot tall and had a determined attitude about him and it made her think that he would always get his own way.

“I don’t suppose you’re interested,” he said, “but I’ve had to fight hard for my place in life and now I’ve got it I’m really determined not to lose it. That means using my brain twenty-four hours a day.”

“What do you do,” Arliva asked, “which makes it such hard work?”

“I’m running a business that makes certain products for this country and I am striving in every way possible to encourage a demand for them overseas.”

“It sounds exciting!” Arliva exclaimed. “At least you can move about and not stay stuck in one place which might be dull.”

“You’re quite right,” he agreed, “but sometimes I find it very hard when I’m wanted in two or three places at the same time and there’s no way of getting there faster than the train will take me.”

“Is that what you are doing now?” Arliva asked.

“It is,” he affirmed, “so I don’t suppose that I’ll be seeing you again, which I would like to do.”

Arliva looked at him enquiringly.

Then he said,

“You are the prettiest young girl I’ve seen for a long time and that’s a considerable compliment because I see a great many of them one way or another as I travel around.”

“Thank you,” Arliva answered, “you encourage me to feel that I may be a success in the new job I have just undertaken.”

She thought as she spoke how amused her father would be at her doing anything so unnecessary as working for her living.

At the same time she knew it was the first step in her determination to meet people who liked her for herself and not for what she possessed.

Because she thought it a mistake to talk too much about herself, she said,

“Do tell me which countries you are working in at the moment. I have done a little travelling and I always thought that the salesmen in France are more polite and efficient than those in other countries.”

He considered what she said before he replied,

“I think you are right. I also find that I get on very well with the Italians, although you have to make sure that they pay up before you deliver the goods.”

“That must apply to many countries, but I am sure that you are clever enough to prevent them from tricking you,” Arliva commented.

“I try to be,” he replied. “But as you doubtless will know the world is full of people who want something for nothing and those who find it more amusing to trick you than to play the game fairly, so to speak.”

“I know exactly what you are saying to me,” Arliva agreed. “My father thought the same and, when I travelled with him, he always warned me against trusting a foreigner too far and making sure that I received full value for the money I spent.”

“Your father was clearly very wise,” the man said. “But I think you’ll find where you’re going the country folk are slow and you’ll not find anyone bright enough to trick you even if they wanted to do so!”

“You are very encouraging,” Arliva smiled.

The young man was silent for a moment and she sensed that he was considering her in detail as he puffed at his cigarette.

Then he said,

“You are too pretty to be working for your living. Just you watch out for those who’ll be after you like a fox after a chicken. Lock your bedroom door at night.”

Arliva looked at him in astonishment.

“I don’t think I would run into difficulties of that sort,” she replied in a superior way.

“I wouldn’t bet on it not happening to someone with a face life yours,” the man remarked. “If your father was here, I’m sure he’d give you the same advice as I have given you.”

“It’s very kind of you to be so concerned,” Arliva said, “and I will certainly do as you suggest.”

“There’s a good girl and I hope we’ll meet again sometime,” the man replied. “I get off at the next station, but I’ll be thinking about you because I can’t help it. I’m hoping against hope that we’ll meet again.”

Arliva held out her hand.

“I have enjoyed meeting you very much and thank you for your kindness.”

He shook her hand and shook it hard.

Then, as the train stopped, he opened the door and jumped out.

“Goodbye,” he called out through the open window raising his hat. “Take good care of yourself.”

He walked away and joined a number of people who had already disembarked at the station.

Arliva sat back smiling to herself.

She had at least met one man who was interested enough in her for herself and he had been kind enough to give her advice and not to think that in any way she might be useful to him.

The train moved on and they came to the station that Mrs. Hill had told her to alight at.

She got out and found a porter to take her case out of the guard’s van.

“I think,” Arliva said somewhat nervously, “I have someone meeting me from Lord Wilson’s house.”

“Oh, I knows where that be,” the porter said. “’E’s often been ’ere and I expects, though it be impertinent of me to say so, miss, that you be the next Governess.”

Arliva looked at him in surprise.

BOOK: 108. An Archangel Called Ivan
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