The Judgement Of Love Part 4

"When I gave the letter to the Butler and asked him to have it delivered, he said it would take the groom less than half-an-hour."

Sir Roderick smiled.

"That is true because the groom would go to Little Milden through the wood by a twisting path which is suitable only for a horse or for someone on foot."

"And by road? " Astara enquired.

"Little Milden is about four miles away."

"How extraordinary!

"Not really," Sir Roderick replied. "My father, like my grandfather, refused categorically to have any roads built on the Estate. There we have only the main drive and cart-tracks, which is rather surprising when you think we extend over three thousand acres and are still within easy reach of London."

"I think your father was right," Astara said. "It is so lovely to feel that the outside world does not encroach, and as you said to me yesterday Worfield Estate is self-sufficient, almost a State in itself !"

She had in fact been extremely impressed by everything Sir Roderick had shown her.

There had not only been the farms, the granaries, the mills which were all operated by his own employees, but there were also carpenters, stone-masons, smiths, and the foresters besides the enormous amount of offices appertaining to the house itself.

In their travels Astara had visited Palaces of many minor Royalties, and in France had stayed in ancient Chateaux which had not been destroyed or devastated by the Revolution.

But nothing had prepared her for the magnificence of a great ancestral house in England which in a country untouched by war carried on the life and traditions that had been laid down for generations earlier.

"I want you to understand the workings of the Estate, " Sir Roderick had said to Astara, "because one day all this will be yours."

She looked at him in a startled fas.h.i.+on.

"Are you not being a little over-optimistic?" she asked. "And you gave me your ... promise that you would not ... make me marry anybody I did not ... wish to. "

"I am trusting my luck and my judgement," Sir Roderick said, "and it has stood me in good stead in the past." He looked at Astara, then laughed softly.

"Why are you laughing?" she asked.

"Because," he answered, "up to now I have always dealt with men and money and found them quite predictable. But now I am dealing with a woman which is new and hitherto unexplored ground."

"That is untrue, and you are an old humbug!" Astara retorted. "You know you are and were a great success with many lovely ladies. An old flirt of yours in Rome told me that she had loved you to distraction but realised she was only one of many!"

"Like all women she was exaggerating!" Sir Roderick said. "But you only confirm my confidence that, if I am as experienced as you are trying to make out, I shall not now make a fundamental mistake."

"That of course remains to be seen," Astara said provocatively.

When she was choosing her gown the following morning, having in mind that Sir Roderick's nephews would be arriving, she wondered with a cynicism that was unnatural to her, if it really mattered what she wore.

Then she told herself that was an unfair view of the two men whom Sir Roderick had described to her so vividly.

Would the Viscount, with all his attainments, or Lionel Worfield, be willing to give up their freedom just for the sake of money?

Surely they would want to be in love with any woman they made their wife, just as she wanted to be in love with the man who was to become her husband ?

After luncheon when she came downstairs carrying her bonnet and a sunshade and had reached the Hall the Butler asked: "Could you tell me, Miss, if you will be four for dinner or five, as you suggested yesterday?"

"I really do not know, Hedges, " Astara answered. "Was there a reply to the letter you arranged to be carried to the Old Mill at Little Milden?"

"The groom informed me, Miss, that although he knocked on the door for some time there was no ".

answer.

"He brought the letter back?" Astara enquired.

"Oh, no, Miss. He slipped it under the door."

"Perhaps Mr Vulcan Worfield is away."

"No, Miss. The groom was intelligent enough to make some enquiries in the village and he was told that Mr Worfield was at home, but often, if his servants are out and he's busy, no-one answers the door."

"Busy?" Astara questioned.

The Butler obviously had no more to say on the matter and she proceeded to the Library where Sir Roderick was waiting for her.

"We have received no answer from your nephew Vulcan Worfield," she said.

"That does not surprise me," Sir Roderick answered. "Doubtless he will turn up when it suits him, like a bad penny."

"I have a feeling you are rather harsh on him," Astara teased. "I only hope that Viscount Yelverton will live up to his reputation."

"I am quite sure he will!" Sir Roderick replied. "In fact Barnes was telling me a little while ago that the whole village backed his horse, Topsail, out of loyalty to the family and are all delighted at what was undoubtedly a sensational win."

Astara had already read the description of the race in the morning newspaper and she knew that it had pleased her uncle.

"Horses are certainly one thing you and William will have in common, I was naming that you ride well and when I provide you with even better horses than are here already you will be unrivalled. "

"I have a feeling I am being groomed to add glamour and sparkle to the Worfield image, " Astara laughed. "It will be a terrible thing if by some miscalculation on your part I am a flop and a failure like poor Vulcan."

"You could never be that," Sir Roderick said positively. He looked critically at Astara for the moment. Then he said: "Every day you grow more like your mother, and there-fore every day in my eyes more beautiful and more alluring.

As you suggested yourself, I only wish I were forty years younger! I promise you I should be a most ardent wooer!"

Astara laughed, but her eyes were tender because she knew that Sir Roderick was speaking from his heart.

She was well aware that he was spoken of as a hard and ruthless man by those who did business with him.

She also knew that he could be very critical and cutting if things did not please him.

But he had never shown her anything but tenderness, and she loved the quickness of his mind and the way he never commanded her to do anything but made every effort to understand her point of view.

"You are a very wonderful person, Uncle Roderick," she said now and kissed his cheek.

"Come along. We have a lot to do this afternoon before my nephews ' arrival," he said. "I want your advice on what improvements I- can make to the garden and to-morrow I have an expert from Kew coming to advise us on the hot-houses. "

"That is something in which I am really interested, " Astara said. "Flowers make such a difference in every woman's life and in every home."

"That is because women are like flowers them Roderick replied, "or it is what they should be..."

He thought, although he did not say so, that Astara was like some unique flower to be found only in far-off places, for which men who were interested in horticulture would risk their lives.

Then with a quick turn of his mind he ceased thinking for the moment of Astara but of the improvements he intended to make not only in the garden, but also in the house and over the whole Estate.

They spent such an absorbing afternoon that when they returned to the house Astara had only just tidied herself and descended to the Salon for tea when the Viscount and Captain Lionel Worfield arrived.

She heard their voices in the Hall as they greeted their uncle, then the door of the Salon opened and he came in followed by, Astara had to admit at first glance, two of the most handsome men she had ever seen.

"Astara, our guests have arrived," Sir Roderick said. "I want you first to meet William who, as I have told you, is my oldest nephew."

As Astara curtsied the Viscount bowed with a grace that belied his athletic build and broad shoulders.

She thought that his grey eyes held as questioning an expression as her own.

It was almost, she thought, as if they were puppets being manipulated by Sir Roderick, and she wondered if the Viscount resented the fact.

There was something so theatrical about the whole idea, and the letter which she had written at Sir Roderick's instigation, that she had begun to find it all rather amusing.

It was only when she thought of the future and that she might really have to choose a husband from among three unknown young men that she felt a little tremor of fear.

But now she told herself such feelings were quite un-necessary and she was certain that the Viscount would prove to be an attractive as he was good-looking.

It was almost startling to realise that Captain Lionel Worfield, when his uncle introduced him, was in his own way as outstandingly handsome as his cousin.

While the Viscount was fair, Lionel's hair was brown and he wore a small military moustache. He had a slim waist which Astara was aware would make him look outstanding in uniform and on a horse.

She busied herself with pouring out the tea and as the gentlemen accepted the cups she handed them, she thought it was only an act of politeness and they would have preferred a gla.s.s of wine.

Astara was experienced enough after her time abroad to know that it was Lionel Worfield who looked at her first with an unmistakable admiration in his eyes.

There was also a note in his voice when he addressed her which she recognised.

She had made a conquest and there could be no doubt about that. But she sensed that the Viscount was either more reserved or unwilling to make up his mind too quickly.

Then she thought to herself, perhaps he might be blase because he was obviously acclaimed and sought after by almost every woman he met.

Sir Roderick made things very easy by talking of old times, enquiring after his brothers, and telling his nephews of the improvements he had decided to make on the Estate.

"Astara is delighted with Worfield House," he said almost boastfully. "As for the garden I had almost forgotten myself how beautiful it can be in the spring."

"It is nice to think that you are in residence again, Uncle Roderick," Lionel remarked.

Sir Roderick rose to show him a picture of his father when he was a young man, and Astara and the Viscount were left alone at the tea-table.

"Is this your first visit to England, Miss Beverley?" he enquired.

She shook her head.

"No, I lived here on and off until I was twelve," she answered, "and it is very exciting to be back."

"Shall I say how glad I am that you have returned?" the Viscount enquired.

"Only if you mean it," she replied.

"I make up my mind quickly, so may I say in all sincerity that I do mean it."

"Thank you," she smiled.

He noticed that she was not confused or in the, least overwhelmed by what he had said.

He had somehow expected because she was so young that she would be, like most of the young girls whom he had met, tongue-tied and stammering and blus.h.i.+ng when he spoke to them.

Looking at her a little more closely he realised that she had a polish and a sophistication which he usually connected with much older women.

He felt suddenly as if any reservations that had been in his mind slipped away.

He had expected from what he had already learnt that his uncle's protegee would be attractive, but he saw that Astara had a beauty that was different, although he was not certain how, from any woman he had ever seen.

"If you are fording everything here new and interesting," he said, "I feel much the same. I have not stayed in this house since I was very young. In his old age, our grandfather found us rather bores, and when Uncle Roderick inherited he was so often away that when he did come home he preferred to entertain his contemporaries."

"Nevertheless, he has kept informed of all you have done and your many achievements," Astara replied.

"I am quite certain that is in great part due to my mother, who is an inveterate letter-writer," the Viscount said.

"I think even if she were not that Uncle Roderick would always ford out what he wanted to know about anyone. I sometimes accuse him of compiling a whole encyclopaedia of information on people who interest him."

The Viscount looked startled.

"Does that make you feel apprehensive?" Astara asked.

"No, but it surprises me," he answered. "I thought Uncle Roderick was too busy for family matters."

"On the contrary, I a.s.sure you his family is very impost to him."

"Then I am very glad to hear it."

There was a note of complacent satisfaction in his voice and Astara remembered that he was the oldest nephew and she thought that the same idea had come to the Viscount's mind.

It would be traditional for Sir Roderick to pa.s.s his fortune on to his nephew William, and to ensure that he lived at Worfield House.

She had already learnt that William's father, the Earl of Yelverton, through his wife had acquired an estate in Kent.

William would come into that one day, but she was certain that it was nothing like as magnificent as Worfield.

She had in fact only in the last two days understood why Sir Roderick had said it would be impossible without a huge fortune to keep the place going.