The Island of Love (Camfield Series No. 15) by Barbara Cartland Page A

one.”
    His eyes were twinkling and she thought he was laughing at her.
    “I must sound very stupid,” she said, “but there has been so much to do these last few days that I am finding it hard to think straight.”
    “I expect the truth is that you are tired,” the Earl remarked, “and I also have the idea that you are excited.”
    “Why should you think that?”
    “I noticed in the train that you were looking out of the window almost as if you were afraid of missing something.”
    Because what he said was so unexpected Lydia could only stare at him before she replied:
    “I have never been as far North as this before, and I did find the countryside unusual, and yet in a way it was what I expected.”
    “And what are you expecting to find across the Atlantic?”
    “A very, very large Continent called ‘America’!”
    The Earl laughed.
    “You are right, it is very large, and we have to go, as you already know, from one side of it to the other before we can embark again for our final destination.” The way he spoke made Lydia clasp her hands together as she said:
    “It is difficult for me to express how thrilled I am by the thought of travelling so far and most of all seeing Hawaii.”
    “Why, particularly?” he enquired.
    “I think because even the little I have read has made it sound like a dream place, quite unreal, which could exist only in one’s imagination.”
    “I only hope that it lives up to your expectations,” the Earl said. “Most places and people are disappointing on closer acquaintance!”
    “I am sure that is not true,” Lydia replied. “Please do not disillusion me before I actually get there!”
    The Earl laughed again.
    “I will not do that, for in fact I too am much looking forward to seeing Honolulu.”
    Lydia smiled at him, then remembered that Heloise would be very angry that she had been away for so long.
    She picked up the soda-water syphon saying: “Thank you for letting me take this to my sister.” She turned round to return to Heloise but before she reached the door the Earl asked:
    “Why have I not seen you before?”
    “You may not have seen me, My Lord,” Lydia replied, “but I have seen you very frequently.”
    “You have?” he exclaimed in surprise. “Where?”
    “In the hunting-field,” Lydia answered, “and I admire your horses more than I can possibly express.”
    “And, I hope, their rider?”
    The way he asked the question made Lydia give a little laugh.
    “I cannot imagine that you expect me to add my plaudits to those you have received already in such abundance.”
    She swept through the door before he could reply, and only as she saw her sister lying in bed waiting for her did she ask herself how she could have been so imprudent as to speak to the Earl in such a manner.
    Heloise certainly would be angry and even her father might have disapproved.
    Then she knew the magnetism she had sensed in the Earl when she had seen him by peeping through the bannisters was, when she was close to him, so strong that it made her feel exhilarated. It was difficult to explain in words, and yet she remembered hearing once a very old man reminiscing about the great Duke of Wellington, and he had said: “Whenever Wellington came into a room the tempo rose and everybody sat up and seemed to come alive.” That, Lydia thought, was exactly the quality the Earl had.
    Because he teased her, or just before he was there, she felt the tempo rise and she became exhilarated almost as if she had drunk a glass of champagne and it had gone to her head.
    “You have been a long time!” Heloise said crossly.
    “I had to find a syphon for you,” Lydia replied. “I expect there will be other mineral waters tomorrow, or perhaps you prefer lemonade? But there is soda-water tonight, and I know it would be a mistake to drink out of the taps in your basin.”
    “I know that!” Heloise snapped. “I can assure you, Lydia, I am not taking any chances of upsetting myself any more