Free Hiding from Love by Barbara Cartland Page B

the pale lanky hair she had glimpsed through an open cabin door.
    The couple looked askance at Leonora’s attire, but proffered the usual pleasantries, introducing themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Griddle and the girl as their daughter Desirée.
    The name seemed so unlikely for the thin miserable creature who bore it that Leonora was a little bemused.
    Desirée did not look up, but sat staring down at the tablecloth as Leonora introduced herself and said she was pleased to make their acquaintance.
    She was relieved to have her back to the Captain’s table, as she was not sure that she would have been able to prevent her gaze lingering on the enigmatic Mr. Chandos.
    Mrs. Griddle, on whose ample bosom hung a man’s watch and chain, announced brightly that she knew all the other passengers’ names already.
    â€œThere aren’t that many of us on board,” she began with an air of disdain.  “Mr. Griddle booked on this vessel, but I should have much preferred a passenger ship myself!”
    Mr. Griddle, a lean, angular gentleman with sparse brown whiskers, looked suitably apologetic.
    Mrs. Griddle then pointed out at an adjoining table an elderly man with white hair seated next to a woman of Hispanic features.  Two gaunt young men sat with them.
    â€œThe old man is a music Professor,” she whispered.  “Travelling with his wife and sons.”
    Leonora hesitated and then turned her head towards the Captain’s table.
    â€œAnd what do you know of – that gentleman over there?” she asked somewhat shyly.
    â€œHim?  He’s a Mr. Chandos, rather too haughty for his own good.  Came on board on a whim.  I saw him.  Walked right up the gangplank without a stick of luggage.  But he must be of note, because he was shown without delay to one of the very best cabins!”
    â€˜ Opposite mine ,’ thought Leonora, wondering into which category of cabin that put her own.  She had surely not paid for one of the best?
    â€œWhy he should be travelling now on a cargo vessel when he is a man of wealth I don’t know,” continued Mrs. Griddle.  “But a man of wealth he is – look at the quality of his attire.  I do know a thing or two about fashion.”
    Mr. Griddle leaned across to her.
    â€œMy wife worked for a tailor and I owned a small shop in Fetter Lane.  We are going to São Paulo to open a new hosiery shop.”
    Leonora imagined their trunks full of silk stockings and boned corsets and gentlemen’s gaiters.
    â€œAnd your daughter is to be an assistant?”
    â€œMy daughter will be what I tell her to be,” growled Mrs. Griddle.
    Leonora was taken aback at her vehemence.  She glanced towards Desirée, who had at last raised her head.
    The girl’s air of doleful resignation was painful to behold and for a moment she forgot all about Mr. Chandos.
    The next moment there was a general stir as Señor de Guarda appeared, wearing a flowing scarlet cravat and his fine moustache shone with oil.  There was no doubt that he was a striking figure.
    His beady eyes were quickly roving the salon and when they settled on Leonora, he made his way over to her with a smile indicating a complicity that she shrank from.
    â€œMiss Cressy,” he murmured.  “You are looking – if I may so – charmingly unique.”
    Mrs. Griddle now looked at Leonora with renewed interest.  That he should acknowledge this young woman at all obviously impressed the indomitable matron.
    â€œAre you – acquainted with Señor de Guarda?” she asked Leonora.
    â€œA – little.”
    He threw back his head.
    â€œA little?  Why, dear Mrs. Griddle, we are nearly old friends – Miss Cressy and I.  I can safely say I know more about her than anyone here.”
    Leonora protested weakly, as he put his head on one side.
    â€œYou are my discovery, Miss Cressy.   I claim you.