Double the Love
BARBARA CARTLAND
www.barbaracartland.com
Copyright © 2014 by Cartland Promotions
First published on the internet in March 2015
ISBNs
978-1-78213-652-1 Print
978-1-78213-688-0 Epub
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanically, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval, without the prior permission in writing from the publisher.
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DOUBLE THE LOVE
She and Lorenc were now sitting at the rough-hewn trestle where the brigands often dined and he slammed his fist down hard on the surface.
“I swear you need a beating, Lady. What other way will they find the money to continue their struggle?”
“What struggle?” asked Ariana.
Lorenc then drew in his breath in the manner of one who has revealed more than he intended.
“Hunting, fishing, growing food, this keeps a man’s body alive,” he said in a low voice. “But then the hope of justice and the means to acquire it needs money. And if you and your companion might prove a means to an end, they will use you.”
“Why, you are no better than – beasts of the field,” retorted Ariana, with no clear thought behind her words.
Lorenc’s eyes blazed. Reaching across the table, he gripped Ariana so hard by the chin that she could not avoid his gaze.
Then he stood, leaned over and brought his angry lips to hers. His kiss was rough, brutal and intense and when he released her she could barely breathe.
“So does a beast of the field kiss!” he said coldly and stalked away.
THE BARBARA CARTLAND PINK COLLECTION
Barbara Cartland was the most prolific bestselling author in the history of the world. She was frequently in the Guinness Book of Records for writing more books in a year than any other living author. In fact her most amazing literary feat was when her publishers asked for more Barbara Cartland romances, she doubled her output from 10 books a year to over 20 books a year, when she was 77.
She went on writing continuously at this rate for 20 years and wrote her last book at the age of 97, thus completing 400 books between the ages of 77 and 97.
Her publishers finally could not keep up with this phenomenal output, so at her death she left 160 unpublished manuscripts, something again that no other author has ever achieved.
Now the exciting news is that these 160 original unpublished Barbara Cartland books are ready for publication and they will be published by Barbaracartland.com exclusively on the internet, as the web is the best possible way to reach so many Barbara Cartland readers around the world.
The 160 books will be published monthly and will be numbered in sequence.
The series is called the Pink Collection as a tribute to Barbara Cartland whose favourite colour was pink and it became very much her trademark over the years.
The Barbara Cartland Pink Collection is published only on the internet. Log on to www.barbaracartland.com to find out how you can purchase the books monthly as they are published, and take out a subscription that will ensure that all subsequent editions are delivered to you by mail order to your home.
If you do not have access to a computer you can write for information about the Pink Collection to the following address :
BarbaraCartland.com
Camfield Place
Hatfield
Hertfordshire
AL9 6JE
United Kingdom
Telephone: +44 1707 642629
Fax: +44 1707 663041
Titles in this series
These titles are currently available for download. For more information please see the Where to buy page at the end of this book.
The Cross Of Love
Love In The Highlands
Love Finds The Way
The Castle Of Love
Love Is Triumphant
Stars In The Sky
The Ship Of Love
A Dangerous Disguise
Love Became Theirs
Love Drives In
Sailing To Love
The Star Of Love
Music Is The Soul Of Love
Love In The East
Theirs To Eternity
A Paradise On Earth
Love Wins In Berlin
In Search Of Love
Love Rescues Rosanna
A Heart In Heaven
The House Of Happiness
Royalty Defeated By Love
The White Witch
They Sought Love
Love Is The Reason For Living
They Found Their Way To Heaven
Learning To Love
Journey To Happiness
A Kiss In The Desert
The Heart Of Love
The Richness Of Love
For Ever And Ever
An Unexpected Love
Saved By An Angel
Touching The Stars
Seeking Love
Journey To Love
The Importance Of Love
Love By The Lake
A Dream Come True
The King Without A Heart
The Waters Of Love
Danger To The Duke
A Perfect Way To Heaven
Follow Your Heart
In Hiding
Rivals For Love
A Kiss From The Heart
Lovers In London
This Way To Heaven
A Princess Prays
Mine For Ever
The Earl’s Revenge
Love At The Tower
Ruled By Love
Love Came From Heaven
Love And Apollo
The Keys Of Love
A Castle Of Dreams
A Battle Of Brains
A Change Of Hearts
It Is Love
The Triumph Of Love
Wanted – A Royal Wife
A Kiss Of Love
To Heaven With Love
Pray For Love
The Marquis Is Trapped
Hide And Seek For Love
Hiding from Love
A Teacher Of Love
Money Or Love
The Revelation Is Love
The Tree Of Love
The Magnificent Marquis
The Castle
The Gates of Paradise
A Lucky Star
A Heaven on Earth
The Healing Hand
A Virgin Bride
The Trail to Love
A Royal Love Match
A Steeplechase for Love
Love at Last
Search for a Wife
Secret Love
A Miracle of Love
Love and the Clans
A Shooting Star
The Winning Post is Love
They Touched Heaven
The Mountain of Love
The Queen Wins
Love and the Gods
Joined by Love
The Duke is Deceived
A Prayer For Love
Love Conquers War
A Rose in Jeopardy
A Call of Love
A Flight to Heaven
She Wanted Love
A Heart Finds Love
A Sacrifice for Love
Love's Dream in Peril
Soft, sweet & Gentle
An Archangel Called Ivan
A Prisoner in Paris
Danger in the desert
Rescued by Love
A Road to Romance
A Golden Lie
A heart of stone
The Earl Elopes
A Wilder Kind of Love
The Bride Runs Away
Beyond the Horizon
Crowned by Music
Love solves the Problem
Blessing of the Gods
Love by Moonlight
Saved by the Duke
A Train to Love
Wanted - A Bride
Double the Love
THE LATE DAME BARBARA CARTLAND
Barbara Cartland, who sadly died in May 2000 at the grand age of ninety eight, remains one of the world’s most famous romantic novelists. With worldwide sales of over one billion, her outstanding 723 books have been translated into thirty six different languages, to be enjoyed by readers of romance globally.
Writing her first book ‘Jigsaw’ at the age of 21, Barbara became an immediate bestseller. Building upon this initial success, she wrote continuously throughout her life, producing bestsellers for an astonishing 76 years. In addition to Barbara Cartland’s legion of fans in the UK and across Europe, her books have always been immensely popular in the USA. In 1976 she achieved the unprecedented feat of having books at numbers 1 & 2 in the prestigious B. Dalton Bookseller bestsellers list.
Although she is often referred to as the ‘Queen of Romance’, Barbara Cartland also wrote several historical biographies, six autobiographies and numerous theatrical plays as well as books on life, love, health and cookery. Becoming one of Britain's most popular media personalities and dressed in her trademark pink, Barbara spoke on radio and television about social and political issues, as well as making many public appearances.
In 1991 she became a Dame of the Order of the British Empire for her contribution to literature and her work for humanitarian and charitable causes.
Known for her glamour, style, and vitality Barbara Cartland became a legend in her own lifetime. Best remembered for her wonderful romantic novels and loved by millions of readers worldwide, her books remain treasured for their heroic heroes, plucky heroines and traditional values. But above all, it was Barbara Cartland’s overriding belief in the positive power of love to help, heal and improve the quality of life for everyone that made her truly unique.
“I have always thought that there was something terribly romantic about being abducted by a tall good-looking brigand and taken away to his cave in the mountains, but be warned, it rarely happens outside my novels!”
Barbara Cartland
CHAPTER ONE 1871
Konstantin Bardici raised an eyebrow as his niece approached the breakfast table.
“You are late, Ariana.”
Ariana looked quickly at the blue ormolu clock on the mantelpiece. Breakfast was at eight o’clock sharp and it was now four minutes past.
“I am sorry, Uncle Konstantin,” she said.
If she had arrived only five minutes early, he would probably have complained that she was intruding upon his few minutes’ privacy before the affairs of the day began.
She glanced at the large pile of letters on the silver salver by his elbow.
Her uncle’s voice roused her from her thoughts.
“Since you finished with your schooling you have become somewhat idle in your habits.”
Ariana sighed.
“I would not be idle, Uncle, if I had actually been educated to do something.”
“I’m not sure that I like your tone, Miss Dancer.”
‘Miss Dancer!’ Ariana grimaced to herself. This was the title her uncle used to remind her that she was, and had been for some years now, utterly in his power.
“All I am trying to say, Uncle, is that I have few accomplishments that would afford me a way of using my leisure time to some purpose.”
“You play the piano,” he persisted.
“Every young woman of my age plays the piano.”
He leaned on the table with hands under his chin.
“But not every young woman speaks Albanian.”
Ariana lowered her eyes.
“No, I suppose they don’t,” she conceded, a weary edge to her voice.
Her uncle tapped his fingers together.
“That in itself should remind you that you are not and never will be like every young woman. Neither was your mother. She forgot that fact and paid the price. I do not expect you to make the same mistake.”
Ariana reddened. The mistake that her mother had made was to marry without her family’s permission.
“I don’t consider marrying for love a mistake,” she said with as much defiance as she could muster.
Her uncle snorted,
“Love! What good is love? What did it do for my sister, Mariamne?”
Ariana then drew in her breath painfully. How often was this exchange with her uncle to recur in the future?
“What did it do for Mariamne?” he repeated.
“It made her happy,” returned Ariana softly.
“Happy!” He lowered his hands and thumped the table. “Who was she to have the right to be happy? The daughter of an Albanian aristocrat, who once owned land from Berat to Fieri. Land that was lost when we were driven from our country by all those Ottomans with their fezes and hookahs! It was her duty to marry an Albanian and carry on the sacred blood tie with her country.”
Ariana waited patiently. She was well used to these unreasonable outbursts from her uncle.
How many times had she heard of the flight of the Nationalist Bardiccis in 1862 from political repression in the lowlands of Albania? Her ailing widowed grandfather had arrived in London with only his fifteen year old son, eighteen year old daughter and a bag of jewellery that had enabled him to find a lucrative niche in the banking world.
As her uncle ranted on, her gaze moved from his shaking jowls to the portrait on the wall of her grandfather, Felim Bardici.
Plump and sour, he looked like his son, her Uncle Konstantin. And then next to her grandfather was Ariana’s pretty grandmother and she looked just like her daughter Mariamne, Ariana’s mother.
Ariana knew how her mother looked, as among the meagre possessions she had brought into her uncle’s house was a miniature of her.
It was lovingly painted by the husband for whom Mariamne had relinquished her family almost as soon as she arrived in England – Simon Dancer.
Of Simon, her father, Ariana had no image but the one etched in her memory.
He had been a portrait painter, engaged to teach the restless Mariamne about art. She had fallen in love with him and, when her father objected, the couple had eloped.
In response Felim Bardici had immediately cut his daughter off without a penny and he had died without ever setting eyes on his granddaughter, Ariana.
She had often wondered whether his vengeful spirit would have been gratified to learn that the daughter and son-in-law he had repudiated had barely outlived him, both succumbing to typhoid in the summer of 1866.
Thinking on the short and sad lives of her parents Ariana’s eyes filled with tears.
She barely remembered her father and mother, but the love they had felt for each other burned like a beacon in her heart and she wanted no less for herself.
“Are you listening, Ariana?” Her uncle’s eye was sharp and he had noticed her wandering attention.
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Your mother was educated, as were you, in order to be able to dedicate her future to her ancestral homeland. Her schooling was, if you like, a political strategy.”
Ariana stiffened with sudden alarm. Her uncle had never quite referred to her mother’s education and her own as ‘political strategy’ and she struggled to remember what aspect of her schooling might come under such a heading.
She had been sent away to
be educated almost as soon as she had passed into her uncle’s sole Guardianship.
Thirteen years ago he had been a mere twenty years of age and had made it clear that he had no intention of devoting his precious bachelor days, now his father was dead, to the care of his orphaned four year old niece.
Rizgard Academy was a school for the children of European émigrés and Ariana had mixed with the offspring of exiled Princes, deposed tyrants and expelled Ministers. Ariana could not see how any of this befitted her to be part of some ‘political strategy’ unless that aspect of her education was the language lessons during the holidays.
While Uncle Konstantin travelled in Europe, Ariana had spent every summer in his airless study with a crusty old Albanian lady, who taught her to speak the language of a country she never thought she would visit.
She took a deep breath and asked her uncle,
“What did you mean by – ‘political strategy’?”
“In what context?”
“You said that my mother was educated in order to be able to dedicate her life – to her ancestral homeland,” Ariana reminded him. “You said that it was a kind of – ”
“ – political strategy,” took up her uncle. “Yes, yes. What I meant was that in Albania marriages are arranged so as to strengthen ties between important families. So you could say that marriages have a political significance. And arranging them requires political strategy.”
“You mean it was intended that my mother should marry an Albanian, Uncle?”
“Quite!” he said and signalled to the maid to leave.
Ariana met her uncle’s gaze with trepidation. She now sensed that the whole confrontation this morning had a purpose, a purpose that would not be to her liking.
“So when my mother – ran away with my father – it was then a double blow to the family? They lost not only a daughter but – a political pawn?” she asked.
Uncle Konstantin drew back in distaste.
“What a way to put it!”
“How else should I put it, Uncle?” Ariana sighed.
“You could put it this way. Mariamne lost a great opportunity to do her family and her homeland a service. Had she married, as was intended, an Albanian Prince, she would have forged a link between his family and ours that might have served us well.”
There was silence for a moment.