The Golden Cage by Barbara Cartland

Author:Barbara Cartland
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781782138457
Publisher: Barbara Cartland Ebooks ltd
Published: 2016-05-24T16:00:00+00:00

chapter five

It was the fourth day since Crisa had boarded the Liner and she knew when she awoke in the morning that she was enjoying herself.

She found it fascinating to work with Mr. Thorpe not only because of what he dictated, which had altered considerably both in subject matter and in style in the last two days, but also because they could talk together.

She realised that he was deliberately keeping her talking so that Jenkins could have some exercise and fresh air.

She had taken to being with him from eleven o’clock until luncheontime and then again after he had had a rest from three o’clock until sometimes as late as six in the evening.

She thought at first that it was like being with her father as they discussed various subjects, ranging all over the world.

She would sometimes argue with him, just for the sake of stimulating the conversation and making it more exciting.

He was now in much better general health, obviously due to the fact, as Jenkins had told her, that his wound was healing rapidly.

“I thinks it be a lot of poppycock, miss, when the Master told me how you put honey on his wound,” he said, “but I has to admit, it’s much better than anythin’ the doctor gives him.”

“Honey is a wonderful healer,” Crisa replied, “and if you were sensible, you would persuade Mr. Thorpe to have some for breakfast.”

Whether it was due to the honey or to the rest and relaxation on board ship, Mr. Thorpe did look better and the plaster had been removed from his forehead.

Now she could see the nasty-looking wound that had been stitched by a doctor when he had first sustained it and which Crisa was sure, like the wound on his arm, had been made with a knife-thrust.

She knew without even trying that it would be no use asking questions.

Yesterday, however, when they were talking after he had finished dictating, she had said,

“What took you to America in the first place? Was it something interesting?”

She knew it was a pertinent question and there was a perceptible pause while Mr. Thorpe sought for an answer.

Because she was teasing him she said after a moment,

“I wondered if perhaps, like so many Englishmen, you were looking for a rich wife.”

Mr. Thorpe laughed.

“That is the last thing I would look for.”

“They told me in New York,” Crisa went on, “that many of the European aristocrats had travelled across the ocean for that very reason and how the American debutante’s dream is of becoming a Duchess or even a Princess!”

Mr. Thorpe laughed again.

Then he said,

“The idea disgusts me! If I ever have to marry, I would certainly not want a wife who was richer than I was myself.”

Just for the sake of argument, Crisa remarked,

“By English law, when she marries you, her money becomes yours.”

“That would make it even worse!” Mr. Thorpe replied. “Imagine every time I spent some of her money I knew that she was thinking how extravagant I was being and perhaps

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