The Cross of Love Read Free Page A

revealing a tall, well-made frame in breeches, shirt and waistcoat. She contemplated him.
    Then something seemed to make him aware of her presence and he spoke sharply, without turning round.
    "Perhaps you can make this damned fire burn! I want some breakfast and the coal and wood are conspiring to prevent me from having it."
    There was so much resentment in his voice that Rena could not help laughing.
    "Let me do it," she said. "These old fires are very troublesome at times."
    The sound of her voice made the man turn round. He was young and unexpectedly good-looking, although his face was partly hidden by a smudge of coal. For a moment they both looked at each other with interest and pleasure.
    Then he rose and said, "I do apologise. I don't know who you are, but if you could make this fire burn I could have something to eat. I'm ravenous. I've eaten all the food I brought with me last night, and this kitchen has defeated me. In fact the whole house defeats me. Wretched place!"
    She couldn't help laughing again, and assumed a shocked tone. "Do you know, sir, that this house has been called one of the most beautiful houses in the whole of England."
    "I could think of several things to call it, but that wouldn't be among them."
    "Don't let the new owner hear you say that!"
    "It's all right. I am the new owner."
    "Oh heavens!" she cried. "And I thought you were a ghost!"
    He grinned. "A pretty solid sort of ghost. A pretty filthy one, too. Perhaps we should introduce ourselves. My name is John and I'm the Earl."
    "The Earl? You mean - Lord Lansdale?"
    "Yes. I don't look much like an Earl do I? More like a pot boy, I suppose."
    "My name is Rena Colwell. My father was the vicar here until his death. He brought me to this house several times when the old Earl was still alive. It's such a beautiful place, and I've always loved it. Is something wrong?" For his face had fallen.
    "Only that if you're the vicar's daughter it wouldn't be quite proper for me to let you light the fire."
    "Oh never mind what's proper," she said at once. "Let's just do what we want." Then her hands flew to her mouth. "No - at least - what I meant was - "
    "Don't," he begged. "Don't change it. I preferred the first version."
    "Well, so did I," she admitted, "but it was the sort of thing Papa used to reprove me for saying. Now, let me do your fire. I shall need some paper - there should be some in one of the drawers of the table. Then I must have some small pieces of wood and matches with which to light the fire."
    "I suppose it is what I should have known," the man answered ruefully. "But quite frankly I'm not used to making my own fire or cooking my own breakfast."
    "I promise that you won't be hungry for very much longer."
    She had to chase some beetles out of the range before she could do anything else. But at last she got the fire burning and the water in the saucepan was hot enough to cook some eggs. The Earl had some provisions, coffee, a little milk, half a loaf of bread and a large pat of butter.
    "I have an uneasy feeling that politeness dictates that I should ask you to share my breakfast," he said. "But - forgive me, I'm too hungry to be polite."
    "I'm not hungry. I ate my breakfast before I left home."
    This was not quite true, because she had merely picked up some pieces of ham left over from her supper the night before. She was making her few remaining scraps of food last.
    "I don't think you can be real," he said. "You're a fairy creature who came by magic to save me from starving to death. What is it? What did I say?" He'd seen a sudden change in her face.
    "Nothing," she said hastily. His innocent remark had reminded her of the reality of her situation. "I just - thought of something. Go on with what you are saying."
    He raised his coffee cup to her in salute. "To the fairy who saved me. I'm very lucky to have found you."
    Rena smiled. "I thought actually I had found you. Whenever I've been here before the house has been completely empty,