Free The Temptation of Torilla by Barbara Cartland Page B

as yet, but we will go to London next week and spend a fortune on the most magnificent gowns that Bond Street can provide.”
    As she spoke, she walked towards Torilla, but when she reached her she said with a note of concern in her voice,
    “You look pale, dearest. I expect you are tired after that long journey and it’s not surprising.”
    “I am a little – tired,” Torilla managed to reply.
    She was silent as Beryl took her upstairs and she found she was sleeping in the room she had always occupied when they were young.
    Sometimes her father and mother would go away and it was taken as a matter of course that Torilla should stay at Fernleigh Hall, just as whenever it suited the Earl and the Countess, Beryl came to them.
    On such occasions the two girls would conspire together to carry out some daring exploit, such as climbing the haystacks or swimming in the lake after they should have been in bed and asleep.
    In consequence the room next door to Beryl’s bedchamber was always known as ‘Miss Torilla’s room’, and now it was waiting for her, the silk curtains drawn back from the windows that looked over the sun-kissed lake.
    For a moment Torilla saw only a blackened countryside without trees or shrubs, with the slum of the men, women and children who lived in it, almost as black as the coal they handled.
    Then deliberately she made Beryl talk of her trousseau and later in the evening of her wedding.
    Tentatively, because she was so afraid of saying too much, Torilla asked hesitatingly,
    “You don’t – think, dearest, that if you – waited a little longer you would find someone you would – love with all your heart?”
    She saw the expression on Beryl’s face and added quickly,
    “You look like the Princess in a fairy story. I just want you to find your Prince Charming.”
    “Wait until you see Gallen,” Beryl said complacently. “He is exactly the Prince Charming we talked about when you used to sit on my bed and we wondered who we would marry.”
    She smiled as she went on,
    “I always envisaged myself a Queen or a Princess. In fact I have found the next best thing in Gallen, who is far more important than most Princes and certainly far more solvent than the Prince Regent!”
    “That, I imagine would not be difficult,” Torilla answered. “Even I have heard of the mountain of debts His Royal Highness owes!”
    “I should hate to be so much in debt,” Beryl said. “As it is, I shall find it very difficult to spend even a part of Gallen’s fortune!”
    She stretched her arms above her head as she acclaimed,
    “That is why I intend to have a trousseau that will astonish everybody and you will benefit.”
    Torilla knew what Beryl was going to say.
    “I intend to discard every stitch that I own now,” her cousin went on, “every single thing, and they are all yours.”
    “Thank you, dearest,” Torilla said. “It is very very kind of you.”
    At the same time she could not help wondering what use she would have for Beryl’s lovely gowns in Barrowfield. The material would be too fragile to be cut up for miners’ wives and their children, although she was quite certain her father would have expected her to do just that if it was possible.
    “I shall have new fans, new reticules, new sunshades, new slippers and new gloves!”
    Beryl flung herself back against the soft cushions on the sofa, as she went on,
    “I am not being extravagant, Torilla, but sensible! Gallen admires smart and elegant women. In fact I am the only girl, if that is what you can call me, in whom he has ever shown the slightest interest.”
    She sat up again, rested her chin on her hand and added reflectively,
    “I shall have to be very sophisticated to please him and quite frankly, Torilla, he will be tricky as a husband.”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “Judging from his past history he not only has an eye for a horse but also for a pretty woman.”
    “Are you really expecting him to be – unfaithful?” Torilla