Free Lucky Logan Finds Love by Barbara Cartland Page B

Lady Logan had said, a great number of books from Oriental countries.
    Some of them looked as if they were so old they had come from Monasteries or perhaps ‘Lucky Logan’ had been presented with them.
    That would be from people who wished to show their gratitude for the prosperity his discoveries had brought them.
    There was also a number of English history books and then, to her surprise, a few novels by Sir Walter Scott.
    She thought it unlikely that Marcus Logan ever wasted his time reading romances, as he would concentrate, she thought, entirely on the paths he travelled which led him to the Temples of Wealth.
    Looking among the shelves, she found some books from Persia that resembled the one from which she had read to Lady Logan. Because they were so beautifully illustrated with hand-painted designs, she felt they must have been done by Priests.
    Picking one out of the shelf, she went and sat down in an armchair.
    She was finding what she was reading extremely fascinating, when the door opened.
    She heard somebody come in.
    She did not look up, supposing it was a servant.
    Then, as the footsteps came slowly towards her, she raised her head.
    Standing looking at her was a tall handsome man who was regarding her quite obviously with surprise.
    She was wondering who it could be, when he asked,
    “Who are you? I cannot believe you are actually reading the book you hold in your hand!”
    Belinda stared at him.
    A sudden thought crossed her mind and she asked hesitatingly,
    “You – are not – you cannot be – ”
    “Marcus Logan? Yes, I am,” the newcomer said, “if that is what you are questioning, and I would like an answer to mine.”
    A little belatedly, Belinda, remembering she was just an employee in the house, rose to her feet.
    She was still holding the Persian book in her hand as she stammered,
    “I-I am Belinda – B-Brown.”
    She stumbled over the last word because she almost forgot it.
    As Marcus Logan seemed to be waiting for more, she added,
    “I have just – come as a – reader to – your mother.”
    “A reader?” Marcus Logan exclaimed. “That is something new!”
    “Lady Logan wanted somebody who could translate the books you have given her,” Belinda explained, “and I have – attained the – position.”
    Unexpectedly Marcus Logan laughed.
    “You can speak Persian?” he asked. “I don’t believe it!”
    “It happens to be true,” Belinda said, “and I am proficient in other languages, including those of countries where, I understand, you have travelled.”
    Marcus Logan sat down in an armchair.
    “We must discuss this,” he said, “and, as I have learnt that my mother is resting, I do not want anybody to disturb her by telling her I have returned.”
    Belinda sat down opposite him.
    She thought as she did so that he was not in any way like she had expected him to be.
    A picture had formed in her mind of a dark, rather hard-faced man who would look stern and serious and he would undoubtedly treat her as a somewhat tiresome and ignorant young woman.
    Sitting opposite her was instead a smart young man wearing clothes in the latest fashion.
    His face was distinctly English.
    He was handsome with an attractive twist to his lips, as if he laughed at life and found it exceedingly enjoyable.
    Impulsively, because she was so surprised, she asked,
    “Are – you really ‘Lucky Logan’? I did not – expect you to look as you – do.”
    Only as she spoke did she think that perhaps she was being rude.
    She had said the first thing that had come into her mind.
    Marcus Logan laughed again.
    “I am not pretending to be who I am and I should be interested to hear what you
did
expect.”
    Belinda felt embarrassed.
    She knew it was impertinent for somebody who should be discreet and subservient to have spoken in such a way.
    But she was so used to expressing her thoughts freely and impulsively at home.
    Because Lord Logan was obviously waiting, she said after a moment,
    “I-I suppose I