Lovers in Lisbon by Barbara Cartland

Author:Barbara Cartland
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788673525
Publisher: Barbara Cartland Ebooks Ltd
Published: 2020-06-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Felicita awoke early and walked down the stairs.

The servants hurried to fetch her breakfast and she knew that she would be alone in the breakfast room.

The Duchesse had said last night that she was tired and would not be called until late on in the morning.

Felicita was glad, although it seemed ungrateful, because she did not want to talk.

She thought when they left The Palace last night that she was in a dream.

She had then dreamt of the Marques all night and felt that he was still standing beside her and smiling.

When they came back from the terrace, they had stopped to listen to the fine music of the small orchestra.

Somehow even when they were not talking to each other, she felt certain that she could fully understand the Marques’s thoughts.

She felt that he too knew exactly what she was thinking.

She had found it difficult on the way home when the Duchesse seemed almost to cross-examine her about what had happened.

“What did you and the Marques talk about when you were there alone on the terrace?” she wanted to know.

“We talked about the view,” Felicita answered evasively.

“And what else?”

“H-he said I was – beautiful.”

She felt as if the words were being dragged from her, but she felt that the Duchesse was pleased.

“And did he say anything else?”

Felicita remembered how much she owed the Duchesse and she recognised that she must answer her questions truthfully.

But she did not wish to say that the Marques had asked her to trust him and that he would sweep away all her worries and fears.

It was something that she was quite sure he would never do and yet it was wonderful to know that he wanted to help her.

But those were deep feelings that she could not share with anyone.

She tried desperately to think of the other subjects that they had discussed on the terrace.

She could feel as they drove homewards that the Duchesse, and it seemed extraordinary, was somehow disappointed with the evening.

“I would expect we will see him again tomorrow,” she said finally when they reached the house.

Felicita did not answer her.

She was aware when she had said ‘goodnight’ to the Marques that he had held her hand for longer than was necessary.

The strength of his fingers made her feel as if he was protecting her.

From what or why, she had no idea.

She only knew that he was like a rock that she could cling to and, as long as she did so, nothing could hurt her.

When she eventually climbed into bed, she wanted to go over and over again everything that he had said to her.

Instead all she could see was his handsome face and his grey eyes gazing into hers.

She was aware of the pulsating vibrations that came from him and which seemed to join with hers.

‘It is just my imagination,’ she tried to tell herself sensibly.

But she knew that it was nothing of the sort.

Now she went from the dining room onto the veranda.

She could see a haze over the sea that was just beginning to disperse and she could also hear the murmur of the waves.

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