Running Away to Love. Barbara Cartland

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soldier went out, closing the door behind him and she stood just inside the doorway, not certain whether she should wait or go forward.

      The room was small and well-furnished with several comfortable chairs clustered round an empty fireplace

      The Earl was sitting at a very large desk, piled high with copious papers.

      When Ivana looked at him, she was surprised.

      She had somehow expected him to be an old man with perhaps grey or white hair.

      She had the idea that anyone in the War Office would be old because the young men would all have gone to fight the War.

      But the Earl of Lorimer looked about thirty and was extremely handsome with dark hair brushed back from a square forehead.

      As he went on writing, she could look at him without embarrassment. She thought at once that he had a hard face.

      There was a squareness about his jaw and a firmness to his lips that told her he would be intent on getting his own way and his orders must be obeyed instantly. He would certainly fight to the end for anything he desired.

      It seemed to her to be a long time before the Earl looked up and turned towards Ivana.

      “Come and sit down,” he said, indicating a chair on the other side of his desk.

      He spoke sharply as if he was giving an order.

      Then, when he saw to whom he was speaking, there was an astonished look in his eyes.

      “I understand,” he said after a moment, “that you have come here from the Agency.”

      “That is right,” Ivana agreed. “Mrs. Hill sent me ‒ to you.”

      She had reached the desk by this time and, as she was feeling shy, she sat down quickly on the chair as if she needed its support.

      The Earl was still staring at her.

      “Is this some sort of joke?” he asked and now his voice was hard, as if he thought that she was an intrusion on his space.

      “No, no, of course not,” Ivana replied quickly. “I came in response to your request for someone ‒ who could speak French.”

      She then saw what she thought was an unbelieving look in the Earl’s eyes.

      Then, with hardly a pause, he started to speak to her very rapidly in French.

      He asked her where she came from and how, when she was obviously English, she had learned to speak such good French.

      Then he said he thought that she must be under a misapprehension regarding the whole matter. He spoke very fluently, but with just a trace of an English accent.

      As soon as he had finished speaking, Ivana replied in what she knew was perfect Parisian French.

      She told him, as she had told Mrs. Hill, that she had been brought up with some French children and she said that she had spoken French almost as soon as she could speak English.

      She could read French and write in French and, if necessary, think in French.

      “That was the sole reason,” she explained, “why, since Mrs. Hill could not find a man for the position, she had come to see him.”

      As she finished speaking, she sat there with a defiant look on her face, knowing that it was impossible for him to find fault with her French.

      The Earl unexpectedly laughed.

      “You have proved your point,” he said, “but now let us begin. Perhaps you will introduce yourself as there is no name on this card.”

      He dropped it on the desk as he spoke and Ivana thought that Mrs. Hill had deliberately not put her name on it in case, as a woman, she was turned away at the door.

      “My name, my Lord,” she replied, “is Ivana – ”

      She stopped.

      It suddenly shot through her mind that it would be a mistake for her to give him her real name.

      If she was to disappear completely, her name could be a certain clue that would put her once again into her stepfather’s hands.

      In the passing of a second she said the only name that came into her mind – and that was Nanny’s.

      “ – Tate,” she finished.

      “Well, Miss Tate,” the Earl replied, “you have very certainly proved that you can speak French, but I doubt if you could comply with the other attributes I require in the person I wish to engage.”

      Ivana drew a deep breath.

      “What you are saying, my Lord, is that I should be a man, but Mrs. Hill made it clear that she has no man on her books who can speak French, nor did she think it likely that she would be able to find one.”

      The Earl frowned.

      “It cannot be an impossible thing to ask,” he exclaimed.

      “I think, if you will forgive me saying so,” Ivana replied, “that, even if people can speak French, they are not particularly keen at this very moment to advertise the fact. After all we are at war with France.”

      “I am aware of that,” the Earl said coldly. “At the same time perhaps it does not trouble you.”

      “I had not thought of speaking French being an asset,” Ivana answered, “until just a short while ago when I was in Mrs. Hill’s Agency.”

      “And what position were you looking for from Mrs. Hill?” the Earl enquired.

      “I thought,” Ivana related frankly, “that I might be a reader to an old lady or perhaps a secretary. I have done quite a lot of secretarial work in the past in one way or another.”

      “I should have said,” the Earl remarked, “looking at you, that either of those positions were most suitable.”

      There was silence between them and then Ivana began to feel that she had failed.

      Then she pointed out,

      “If you are thinking that I am too young to do what you require, it is something that will be rectified in time.”

      The Earl laughed.

      “That is certainly true. Yes, Miss Tate, I was thinking that you are too young and so it would be difficult for anyone looking as you do to carry out my requirements.”

      “But you need somebody who can speak perfect French,” Ivana argued.

      “That is most unfortunately true,” the Earl said, “and, as you already know, I am finding it hard to find anyone.”

      “Then, please – please,” Ivana insisted, “give me a chance. I promise you that I am quite intelligent. I have been well educated and I am at present

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