Free The House of Happiness by Barbara Cartland

man whose attentions she was trying to avoid.
    She dreaded to ponder what interpretation her mother must already be making of his latest offer.
    Beneath and beyond all these conflicting and disturbing thoughts, a faint excitement stirred.
    This was related not to Buckbury, but to the little house that stood on its vast estate. The place she had loved as a child and that even now she thought of as her real home.
    â€˜ Paragon ’, the Eden she had, eight years ago, so cruelly lost!
    *
    Great-Aunt Cloris was shocked and somewhat ashamed of herself when she learned that the Marquis had offered sanctuary to her niece and great-niece.
    Bridget meanwhile seemed almost cheerful that Mrs. Dovedale and her daughter were going away.
    â€œYou might not be home before Christmas, miss,” she said with a certain glee the following morning, as Eugenia arrived in the kitchen with a basket of darning.
    Eugenia stared.
    Bridget had always been comely but was considered careless of her appearance, her hair pinned up anyhow and the hems of her dresses often down. Recently however she had started to take greater care. She tucked pretty combs or the odd flower in her tangled mass of black curls.
    â€œDo you have a – a young man these days, Bridget?” Eugenia asked.
    â€œNot me, miss. Whenever would I find the time?” Bridget giggled, but the faint flush on her neck was unmistakable.
    Eugenia had no time to puzzle over Bridget, however. There was too much to do before she and her mother departed. Dresses and lingerie to be laundered, shoes to be soled and toiletries to be purchased.
    Meanwhile Eugenia resolved to keep out of Gregor’s way.  She shut her ears to the sound of his voice and the sound of his tread on the stairs.
    On the very morning of her departure, however, when she heard Gregor whistling on the stairs outside her room, her resolve crumbled. She flung open the door to appear before him.
    He paused, gazing at her bemused.
    â€œAh! Treasure!  You have been hiding from Gregor. And today you go!” He gestured down at the trunks piled in the hallway below.
    Eugenia nodded numbly.  “Yes.  Will you – miss me?”
    Gregor shrugged. “When I think of you, I will miss you.”
    Eugenia was downcast. “Oh.”
    With a sudden and inexplicable laugh, Gregor seized her hand and kissed it. “But I will dream of you, my flower. Why not?”
    Then he continued on up the stairs, whistling again.
    Eugenia stared after him resignedly.  She had no right to expect more from this artistic and exotic man.
    She returned to her room to finish the preparations for departure.
    *
    The journey to Rutland was difficult and somewhat painful for Mrs. Dovedale, but once ensconced at Buckbury, she was beside herself with delight. She soon decided that the accident had been worth it, since it had resulted in being once again back on the estate where she had spent her happiest years.
    â€œAnd this time I am in the big house,” she declared with satisfaction.
    The big house! Never had there been such beds – sheets of fine linen, drapes of velvet, quilts of goose and duck feather.  Never had she inhabited such rooms with mahogany wardrobes and deep plush sofas and marble fireplaces.
    â€œWe are in clover here,” Mrs. Dovedale sighed. “Clover!”
    Servants tiptoed about, bringing soups and sweetmeats and tea on silver trays. It was obvious that the Marquis had ordered his household to treat Mrs. Dovedale and Eugenia like Royalty.  They wanted for nothing and Mrs. Dovedale’s every whim was granted. Everything she demanded appeared in her room as if by magic.
    Eugenia, in contrast, asked for nothing.
    She could not deny that, after the Spartan conditions at Craven Hill, the luxuries of Buckbury were most seductive. She could not help basking in the comfort and warmth.
    If she was honest, the largesse sometimes made her uneasy.  Why was the Marquis proving