Love in the Ruins by Barbara Cartland

Author:Barbara Cartland
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781782138877
Publisher: PublishDrive
Published: 2016-09-26T16:00:00+00:00

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As the Duke went home in the early hours of the morning, he thought with a twist of his lips that Henri had been right when he had said that it would be a ‘party to end all parties’.

And that it would be a mistake for him to be in Paris and deny himself the pleasure of enjoying it.

Nothing, in fact, could exceed what he had experienced that night.

But the sooner he was on his way the better.

He especially remembered a conversation he had had with one of the other guests before going in to dinner.

The man had introduced himself saying,

“We have met before, Monsieur le Duc, but I doubt if you remember me.”

The Duke, who had an extremely good memory, only hesitated for a moment before he replied,

“Of course I remember you, Comte André, and it is nice to see you again.”

“I am flattered that you have not forgotten,” the Comte said.

They had met at a dinner given by the President, which the Duke had found rather dull.

He remembered also that the Comte was married to the President’s cousin and he asked genially,

“How is Madame la Comtesse? In good health I would hope?”

“Excellent, thank you,” Comte André replied, “and may I ask the obvious question as to why you are in Paris?”

The Duke smiled.

“I am only passing through and I am actually leaving for Tunis tomorrow.”

“Tunis!” Comte André exclaimed. “I was there only a short time ago myself.”

He paused and then he said,

“Can it be that you are interested in Thuburbo Maius? I reckoned that you would have seen it before now.”

“I have hardly had the opportunity,” the Duke replied, “considering that your countrymen have only recently brought the Tunisians under control and I am told that visitors are now welcome.”

“I am sure they will welcome you,” Comte André said.

He paused for a moment before he added,

“I think, unless you have other arrangements, you may find the hotels somewhat uncomfortable.”

The Duke shrugged his shoulders.

“I suppose that is what I must expect, but I am hoping that the food will be French.”

Comte André was writing something on a piece of paper.

“Let me suggest,” he said, “that you visit the Villa L’Astre Bleu, which is extremely comfortable and the food is excellent.”

He saw that the Duke looked puzzled and he explained,

“It is where I stayed myself and it belongs to a friend of mine. You may have met her, the great heiress, Minerva Tison.”

The Duke wrinkled his forehead.

“Tison? Tison? Surely he died in an accident a short time ago?”

“Sadly that is so,” the Comte answered. “His daughter is very lovely and very charming, but now all on her own. It would really be a kindness if you called on her and I am sure that she would welcome any friend of mine.”

He smiled before he added,

“ – and please give her my love!”

The way he spoke told the Duke a great deal without putting it into words.

He put the note into his pocket and remarked,

“Thank you, it’s very kind of you. I will certainly convey your message to Miss Tison, even if I don’t impose on her as a guest.

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