Sweet Adventure by Barbara Cartland

Author:Barbara Cartland
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781782139812
Publisher: Barbara Cartland Ebooks Ltd
Published: 2017-07-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Ventura was tired.

The Court Ball seemed to have been going on for a very long time. At first she had been entranced by the magnificent dresses, the glittering jewels and the elaborate formality of the scene.

The great gold and white ballroom with its glittering chandeliers lit with a thousand tapers, was a perfect setting for the beauty of the women and the gallantry of the Courtiers.

Sitting in an obscure alcove where the pages were allowed to watch their Masters, Ventura thought at first that this was a Fairytale come true and then, as if the scales dropped from her eyes, she was forced almost against her will to see the truth.

Beneath the glitter, the pomp and the splendour of the party there was unhappiness, malice and evil.

She saw the Queen scheming even while she was at play, consulting with the Ministers and, quite obviously, giving commands and instructions that the King was too weak to refute.

Ventura had heard that the King was interested now only in Farinelli, an opera singer who for the sum of fifteen hundred guineas was employed to sing to him every night. No one else was permitted to hear him any longer and to please an audience of one he must sing the same songs over and over again.

Among the throng of dancers Ventura caught sight of Don Carlos. He was scowling darkly and she saw that his gaze was resting on Lord Lynke who was partnering Doña Alcira.

Lord Lynke stood out, Ventura thought proudly. It was not only his broad shoulders, his height and his handsome face that distinguished him but something more intangible and so more difficult to put into words.

There was something clean-cut, something intrinsically decent and trustworthy about him that made Ventura feel that he was like a breath of fresh air in an over-scented, over-heated atmosphere.

All around her there were passions smouldering beneath the surface. Greed and avarice were but thinly disguised by paint and powder.

Perhaps, she told herself, it was Doña Alcira who made her feel that way. There was no doubt that the King’s Ward was looking her best tonight. She wore a dress of gold lamé lined with orange velvet. Her bodice was cut very low to show the valley between her breasts. She wore a necklace of pearls and diamonds and a great wealth of the same stones was entwined in her dark hair.

She was radiant, she was beautiful and yet, Ventura thought, that there was something evil about her beauty. What it was she did not know. She only knew that she mistrusted and, if she was truthful, hated Doña Alcira.

She saw Lord Lynke’s face as he looked down at the Spanish beauty.

‘He is infatuated with her,’ Ventura thought and felt suddenly as if someone had thrust a dagger into her heart.

She told herself that, logically, she should be pleased that Lord Lynke was to marry someone he loved and yet every instinct in her body told her that she should warn him.

About what?

She remembered the hardness in Doña Alcira’s voice when she had questioned her.

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