Captured by Love

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1878-1

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1878Orlina rode down the drive and into the stable yard and, as the groom came out to meet her, she called out,

“I have had a marvellous ride on Sunshine today, Hancock, and he is going better than he has ever done”.

“’Cos it be you a-ridin’ ’im, Miss Orlina,” Hancock answered, “but then ’e most certainly be a fine ’orse.”

“I thought that when I first saw him,” Orlina said, “and I seldom make a mistake.”

“That be true enough, miss,” Hancock agreed.

Orlina dismounted, patted Sunshine, which was her favourite horse, and walked towards the house.

It was a very old and attractive house, but, as her beloved mother had often complained about it, ‘right in the middle of nowhere.’

There were very few neighbours and since Orlina had grown up she had been to practically no balls or parties with people of her age.

There was a Hunt Ball in the autumn, which all the County patronised. Otherwise she had to be content with riding her father’s fine horses and enjoying the beauty and grace of the countryside.

Fortunately she had always loved the country. So she did not miss having a Season in London as a debutante.

That was made impossible because her mother had died just two months before she was eighteen.

Orlina had completed the long traditional year of mourning and after that she had felt too old to contemplate going to London as a debutante and instead she had been content to stay with her father in the country.

Sir Nicholas Runford was an historian. He spent his time writing books on ancient history, which delighted the scholars, but were not of much interest to anyone else.

He had his first book published soon after he had left Oxford University and because it had been acclaimed by the newspapers as the ‘Book of the Year’, he had settled down to study the history of the world.

A number of people spoke of him with reverence and admiration. But unfortunately the general public did not understand what he was writing about and did not buy his books.

Luckily there was sufficient money to keep up his beautiful Elizabethan house and his small estate.

He did not, however, give Orlina what she should have and that was the company of her own contemporaries and a chance to show that she was indeed just as beautiful and intelligent as any of them.

Pure ethereal beauty had become popular since the Prince of Wales had been attracted by Lillie Langtry. He took her everywhere with him just as if she was a prize possession that he wished to show off to the world.

Everyone talked about the great beauties to be seen in London and Orlina herself had often wondered a little wistfully if she might have followed in their trail.

Her mother had been acclaimed a beauty and Orlina was very much like her.

But sadly there was no one to pay her compliments or to accord her the homage and deference that the other beauties received.

She was therefore completely unselfconscious and had no idea how lovely she actually was.

Now, as she walked into the house, the pictures of her ancestors looked down at her with what she hoped was approval.

The Runford men had all been very handsome and the women exceptionally beautiful. Even allowing for a degree of artistic licence, they were all breathtaking.

Orlina thought that she should now go upstairs and change from her riding habit into a gown.

But because the sun was shining so brightly she felt that it was somehow a waste of time when she would much prefer to go out into the garden.

Tea was already being laid in the drawing room and she knew that the old butler who had been with them since she was a child, would, when the tea was ready, fetch her father from his study.

Sir Nicholas, she knew, would as usual resent being interrupted, but he felt that it was his duty to eat his meals with her even if he saw very little of her at other times.

“Did you enjoy your ride, Miss Orlina?” the butler enquired.

“Of course I did, Newman,” Orlina answered. “I just wish sometimes that I had someone to ride with me.”

Newman sighed before he said,

“Sir Nicholas’s legs would not allow him to ride as you well knows, Miss Orlina, but, even if he could mount a horse again, I thinks he’s happier with his books.”

“I think so too,” Orlina replied, “so then I must not grumble.”

She went towards the tea table and Newman went to summon her father.

Sir Nicholas did not come for over five minutes and Orlina knew that he would be finishing off the paragraph he was writing when he was disturbed.

However, he appeared at last looking exceedingly handsome. His hair was going white at the temples, but it made him seem even more attractive than he was already.

“Did you have a nice ride, my dear?” he asked.

“It was so lovely out in the sunshine, Papa,” Orlina replied. “I wished you were with me.”

“I wish I could ride again,” Sir Nicholas said, “but in the meantime I have found something that is extremely interesting and I want to show it to you after dinner.”

“What can it be?” Orlina asked him.

“It’s a piece of Danish folklore that I did not know myself and I am sure that it will surprise you.”

“Of course it will, Papa. It will be exciting to think that you have found something new.”

She thought of how often she had said this to him. Because he was immersed in everything that had happened hundreds of years ago, it was as exciting to him as if it had happened yesterday.

She wished sometimes that she could feel the same thrill herself. She knew that her father was ecstatic when he discovered something that the Danes had done when they invaded the North of Scotland or learned of a statue the Romans had erected when they first came to England.

She and her father talked a little as they had tea, yet there was very little to discuss.

“Now I must get back to work,” Sir Nicholas said, putting down his cup. “I expect you have plenty to occupy yourself with until dinner time.”

“Yes, of course, Papa”, Orlina replied obediently.

Her father hurried from the room.

She then heard him rushing down the passage with the same enthusiasm that a boy might have who was going skating on the ice for the first time.

She gave a little sigh and wondered how she could occupy herself until dinnertime.

Then to her surprise she heard wheels outside the front door and wondered who could be calling so late in the afternoon.

Then she heard Newman coming over the hall and someone with a high-pitched voice speaking to him.

Orlina wondered who it could possibly be when the door opened and Newman announced,

“Lady Sarah Lonslow, miss.”

Orlina gave a cry of amazement as coming through the door was the most elegant and well-dressed figure.

Her hat was trimmed with ostrich feathers and she wore, although she had obviously been travelling, a most elegant gown that was the very height of fashion.

“Sarah, what a lovely surprise!” she exclaimed and ran towards her.

Lady Sarah kissed her and said,

“I thought you would be surprised to see me. I have driven here, and it has been a long journey, because I need your help.”

“My help!” Orlina repeated in disbelief.

Then, as Lady Sarah moved further into the room, she said,

“Will you have some tea? You must be thirsty after such a long journey.”

“I would love some,” Lady Sarah replied.

As if he had known exactly was what was wanted, Newman appeared with a cup and saucer and a small plate of iced cakes.

He put them down on the table and Lady Sarah sat on the sofa.

“You always have such good teas here,” she said. “I remember enjoying them as a child and only resisted fattening cakes when I began to worry about my figure.”

Orlina laughed.

“You certainly don’t have to worry about it now. You are looking lovely, Sarah, as you always do.”

“I hope so. I take enough trouble over it!”

Orlina poured out the tea and Lady Sarah picked up a meringue.

“I thought that these were kept for high days and holidays,” she said. “Your cook always made them better than anyone else in the county.”

“Then you must tell Mrs. Newman that before you leave,” Orlina said. “She is always complaining that there are not enough people here to appreciate her cooking.”

Lady Sarah gazed at her.

“I cannot think, dearest Orlina,” she said, “why you have not insisted on coming to London. It’s ridiculous to bury yourself here in the country, where I am quite certain that you see no one except gamekeepers, who are doubtless getting old by now, and small boys still at school.”

Orlina smiled at her.

“That is quite an accurate description and I cannot think of any alternative at the present time.”

“I have told you that you should come to London,” Lady Sarah insisted. “You are very pretty, Orlina, and you would be a great success.”

Orlina sighed.

“You know that Papa is very happy here with his writing and, although my Mama talked about me having a Season before she died, I feel now that I am too old for it. And I cannot think of anyone who would be prepared to present me at Court.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Lady Sarah said, “there are heaps of people who admire your father and loved your mother and who would be only too pleased to help. It is something I shall arrange when we come back.”

Orlina glanced at her.

“When we come back,” she repeated. “What do you mean by that?”

Lady Sarah finished her meringue and wiped her long white fingers delicately on a napkin.

“Now please listen, Orlina, because I am desperate I want you to help me as no one else can.”

“Of course I will help you, Sarah, but why are you desperate?”

“That is what I am going to tell you.”

As she spoke, she rose from the sofa and walked to the mantelpiece. Over it there was a Queen Anne mirror and she began to take the pins out of her hat.

Orlina watched her curiously as she wondered how she could possibly help Sarah who lived in a very different world to hers.

Lady Sarah had been the daughter of the Marquis of Avingforde, who owned a large house not far from where Orlina lived.

They played together when they were children and, although Lady Sarah was two years older than Orlina, they had been very close friends.

This had continued until Sarah turned eighteen and went to London to have her first Season as a debutante.

Orlina was counting the days until she would come back home and she was longing to hear all the details of the glamorous parties that she had attended.

Then disaster struck the Marquis just when it was whispered that Sarah was engaged to be married.

The great house where she had spent her childhood was burnt down one dark winter’s night. Nobody noticed that the sparks from a fire in one of the downstairs rooms had fallen onto an antique carpet.

Everyone was asleep and it was not until the fire had grown too large to be handled by the staff that anyone realised what was happening.

It took an incredibly long time for the horse-drawn fire engines to reach the burning building and, when they did arrive, it was too late to save the house or any of the treasures within it.

It was a tragedy not only for the Marquis and his family but also for Sarah.

The Marquis then moved to one of his other houses that was not so large or so illustrious.

It was apparently reasonably comfortable and Sarah was then married.

The Marquis had been distraught at the loss of his house, which had been in the family for hundreds of years.

Otherwise he could well have prevented Sarah from marrying one of the first men who courted her. He was not really grand enough to be the son-in-law of the Marquis of Avingforde.

The Marquis protested loudly, as did several of her relations and, as Sarah had always been extremely strong-willed, she went ahead and married Henry Lonslow.

Too late she realised that she had made a terrible mistake and within a year, however, she became a widow.