A Flight To Heaven Read Free Page A

smiled.
    Perhaps, if her girls were as charming as she had obviously once been, it would be worth meeting them.
    And, he thought, high above the London haze, the stars were shining just as brightly as they did over his homeland.
    “St. Petersburg will wait,” he said. “So I shall be delighted to stay longer in London. You must bring your daughters for some Russian tea. Perhaps tomorrow?”
    Mrs. Fulwell blushed red with pleasure and made a little curtsey to the Count.
    *
    “Oh, you are awake!” Elizabeth was bending over Chiara, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining.
    “I have brought you some tea, look! You were fast asleep when I came to tell you that dinner was ready last night and we decided to leave you alone and let you rest.”
    Chiara yawned and sat up. She had been so deeply asleep that her head felt heavy and her eyelids wanted to sink down and close once more, but sunlight was shining in through the curtains and she must get up.
    “I told Papa last night,” Elizabeth was saying, speaking quickly in an excited state, “and he wants to meet Arthur. He has asked him to come this morning and then join us for luncheon. Oh, I do hope they get on.”
    Chiara sipped her tea and felt herself beginning to wake up.
    “I am sure they will, Elizabeth,” she murmured.
    “I hope Papa will not be too fierce with him.”
    Elizabeth looked a little anxious. Her Papa was a tall broad-shouldered man with thick bushy brows and a mane of iron-grey hair and, in the dark clothes he wore as Dean, he could look very stern and forbidding.
    “If Arthur loves you, he will not allow your Papa to upset him,” Chiara suggested. “You must not worry.”
    She could see that Elizabeth was very nervous.
    “And you must not think about me this morning,” Chiara continued. “I shall take myself out for a walk – look what a beautiful day it is – and you and Arthur can spend a little time together.”
    “Oh, but dear Chiara! You have only just arrived. I would not dream of turning you out of the house.”
    Chiara shook her head.
    “I am longing for some fresh air and I shall come back in good time for luncheon.”
    Elizabeth sighed.
    “Oh, I do hope that Papa will be pleasant to Arthur. But you must be hungry. I have brought you some toast. You cannot go out without eating anything.”
    Since her Papa died, Chiara had no appetite at all. But she nibbled a piece of the toast to please her friend and was surprised to find that she quite enjoyed it.
    There was so much sky, here in the Fen country, Chiara thought, and on a bright day like this everything seemed to shine with a bright clear light.
    She was warmly wrapped in her own cloak with its fur-lined hood and Elizabeth had lent her a pair of thick gloves to keep the icy wind from her hands.
    She walked through the winding streets of Ely and soon found herself at the edge of the town, looking out over a wide expanse of grass and glinting water, where the rivers and dykes ran through the fields.
    There was still a long while to go before luncheon and Chiara decided to explore one of the green tracks that ran between high hedges leading out into the countryside.
    Chiara walked briskly to keep warm. There was no one about on this cold day and no birds were singing.
    She was just thinking that perhaps she should turn back, when she heard a strange noise in the air above her head. A sort of creaking sound, the like of which she had never heard before.
    Chiara then looked up to see a flock of great white swans flying with their long necks stretched out and their wings beating swiftly.
    “Oh, you are just so beautiful!” she cried, as they sped past her like white arrows, the sun shining on their feathers. “Wait! Where are you going?”
    She gathered up her skirts and ran after the swans, leaping over clumps of grass as she struggled to keep up.
    ‘I will never catch them,’ she thought, ‘they are so wild and free, but I cannot bear to lose sight of them.’
    Ahead of her, she