No Time For Love (Bantam Series No. 40) by Barbara Cartland

forgotten I am the play-boy of the family?”
    “Is it not time you began to think about settling down?” Mrs. Vanderfeld asked. “You have had a great deal of fun in the past few years, and I do not blame you. But I would like to see your son before I die.”
    Wynstan laughed.
    “That is a very good line, Mama, but you are not really thinking of dying, although you give us a fright occasionally, as you did last month. You know really you are as tough as your pioneering ancestors and you will easily live to be a hundred!”
    “I might do that just to spite you all!” Mrs. Vanderfeld said. “As long as I am alive I can keep the family under control, at least where the others are concerned!”
    “And I am the exception?” Wynstan asked.
    “You always were an obstinate, uppity little boy,” Mrs. Vanderfeld said, “but you managed, even when you were very young, to charm a bird off a tree if it suited you.”
    “It always suited me where you were concerned, Mama,” Wynstan said, “and I think the reason I have never married is that I have never found anyone half as amusing, as witty, or as attractive as you.”
    “There you go!” Mrs. Vanderfeld exclaimed. “Now I am quite certain that you have something to hide from me, or you would not be going out of your way to flatter me.”
    She looked at her son and her eyes twinkled rather like his.
    “Do what you have to do,” she said, “then come back and tell me all about it. I get a vicarious excitement at my age hearing about your love-affairs.”
    “As a change from your own, Mama?” Wynstan asked and again she laughed.
    She had however kissed him very tenderly when he said good-bye to her.
    “Take care of yourself, my darling,” she said softly. “You are my baby now that Elvin is gone and I shall be thinking about you and praying that you will come back safely.”
    “I will be back, Mama,” Wynstan replied, “and just as quickly as I can manage it.”
    “And remember what I have said about that son of yours,” Mrs. Vanderfeld cried as he reached the door.
    “You have enough men loving you already,” Wynstan replied and they were both laughing as he shut the door of her bed-room.
    Looking down at the list of 332 first class passengers Wynstan found a name that held his attention.
    The Earl and Countess of Glencairn were on ‘B’ deck.
    He had known the Earl for some years, an elderly Peer, who had once been an outstanding rider to hounds. He had broken his leg when he was over seventy and now had to spend his time in a wheel-chair.
    He had, however, a few years before this happened taken as his second wife an extremely attractive dark-eyed Frenchwoman.
    She had had a somewhat chequered career in Paris, and it had undoubtedly been an achievement on her part to confound those who criticised her by stepping into the English Peerage.
    Wynstan had met her six months before when she had dined with his sister at the Duke’s magnificent house near Oxford. He had sat next to her at dinner, and she had flirted with him in a manner which had told him they were both masters of the ancient art.
    There was a slightly cynical smile on Wynstan Vanderfeld’s lips as he put down the passenger-list.
    The voyage would not be as boring as he had anticipated.

 
    CHAPTER T HREE
    L arina felt as if her heart had already stopped beating.
    She could think of nothing except that the days, hours and minutes were passing and while she felt she ought to do something special, something important before she died, she had no idea how to set about it.
    She felt as if her will-power had dissolved and she needed, more than she had ever needed in her life before, someone to take control of the situation and tell her what to do.
    She could only wait with a kind of hopelessness for Elvin’s reply to her cable.
    Supposing, she thought, he was too ill to answer her cry for help?
    Because the idea made her frantic she would take out his letters every hour and read the last one she