Free 106. Love's Dream in Peril by Barbara Cartland Page B

of Mr. Dryden,” Lord Ranulph said. “Miss May, I wondered if you might be driving in Hyde Park again this afternoon?”
    Adella shook her head.
    “I could not bear it – it really is not pleasant to have people make fun of my dear ponies.”
    “You are depriving me of the very great pleasure of your company. And, while some might find your ponies amusing, I think they are utterly charming.”
    Adella did not know what to say to this. It was an odd feeling to have Lord Ranulph’s dark eyes fixed so intently on her face.
    “I am most disappointed,” he now murmured.
    He was making her feel quite ill at ease and Adella did not know what to do, except apologise politely.
    “Then may I call on you again?”
    Much to her relief, he was rising to his feet.
    “Of course,” Adella said, as she rose and he caught her hand in his, raising it to his lips for a long moment.
    It was an impulsive gesture and she was so shocked that she almost lost her balance and had to catch hold of the arm of the sofa.
    But Lord Ranulph was already backing towards the door. He looked suddenly awkward, as if he was not used to kissing young lady’s hands.
    “ Au revoir ,” he muttered. “Till we meet again.”
    Adella, her heart beating fast, rang the bell-pull, so that the footman would come to show him out.
    ‘I am not at all used to dealing with these young gentlemen,’ she thought. ‘What is one to do with them?’
    One moment Lord Ranulph was very formal, polite and courteous and the next he was kissing her hand!
    If only Jane was here, to talk to and to puzzle over what had just happened.
    But she was far away and it seemed like a very long time since she had waved goodbye to her at Oxford.
    “Darling Jane, I shall write and tell you all about it!” Adella whispered and she heard the sound of the front door closing as Lord Ranulph left the house.

CHAPTER SIX
    All along the banks of the River Isis, the dangling branches of the weeping willow trees stirred in the breeze, bringing a sensation of freshness to the baking heat of the afternoon.
    Jane had chosen a lovely spot for a picnic with the summer boarders from Mottram’s School.
    “Margaret, will you help the others to unpack all the food?” Jane smiled at the tall girl who was the oldest of the pupils.
    Margaret nodded and set to work at once.
    “Thank you so much, Miss Hartley, for bringing us here!” she enthused.
    The girls chatted and laughed as they stretched out a large white cloth on the grass.
    It was a good moment for Jane slip away and read the letter that had arrived this morning from London with Adella’s familiar handwriting on the envelope.
    She walked a few paces away from the others and sat under one of the shady willow trees to open the letter.
    “ Dearest Jane ,
    How are you? Are the girls behaving themselves? I loved your last letter with the story about their midnight feast ! It reminds me of some of our escapades, when we were little . They are lucky, Jane, that it was you who caught them and not old Mottram . ”
    It was almost as if she could hear Adella’s voice. Jane sighed with pleasure and her eyes skimmed eagerly down the page. There was a long story about a visit to a dressmaker and Adella had added detailed descriptions of the lovely gowns that resulted from the shopping spree.
    Jane was sure that her friend must be one of the loveliest and best-dressed girls in London, but when would she ever be able to see her in her new finery?
    She turned over the letter to read what Adella had written on the other side.
    “ My first ball gown should be ready in a few days. It will be white with pale gold ribbons and tiny pink roses sewn all over the flounces. How I shall dance in it, I do not know as the skirt is quite tight, as is the fashion in London .
    If only you were here, Jane, we could practise a waltz or two . I dare not ask Uncle Edgar. He says he has not danced for ten years and claims to have two left feet and I can believe it !”
    Jane