32. For Ever and Ever - The Pink Collection
98 Pages

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32. For Ever and Ever - The Pink Collection


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98 Pages

You can change the print size of this book


Viola Brookfield has not a care in the world until the awful day when her parents are tragically killed in a road accident, leaving her all alone in the world. So when her Aunt Mary, Lady Wakefield, writes to invite her to come and live with her in India, Viola decides to accept. But when she arrives, she finds a country fraught with unexpected dangers and that her uncle, Lord Wakefield, behaves as if she is not welcome. Violas life is further complicated when she meets the handsome but enigmatic Earl of Devonport. Amidst a backdrop of unrest and the threat of Russian invasion, Viola soon discovers that she is not the only one in Mandavi to admire the Earl and that life in India is more complex than she had thought. And when she chances upon evidence of Russian spies close to home, she puts her very life in danger. Will the Earl come to her rescue in time and just what is the family secret that hangs like a cloud over her aunt and uncle? Can Viola find love in such a mysterious and exotic land?Read what happens next in this exciting, romantic tale, by BARBARA CARTLAND "Barbara Cartland was the world’s most prolific novelist who wrote an amazing 723 books in her lifetime, of which no less than 644 were romantic novels with worldwide sales of over 1 billion copies and her books were translated into 36 different languages.As well as romantic novels, she wrote historical biographies, 6 autobiographies, theatrical plays and books of advice on life, love, vitamins and cookery.She wrote her first book at the age of 21 and it was called Jigsaw. It became an immediate bestseller and sold 100,000 copies in hardback in England and all over Europe in translation.Between the ages of 77 and 97 she increased her output and wrote an incredible 400 romances as the demand for her romances was so strong all over the world.She wrote her last book at the age of 97 and it was entitled perhaps prophetically The Way to Heaven. Her books have always been immensely popular in the United States where in 1976 her current books were at numbers 1 & 2 in the B. Dalton bestsellers list, a feat never achieved before or since by any author.Barbara Cartland became a legend in her own lifetime and will be best remembered for her wonderful romantic novels so loved by her millions of readers throughout the world, who have always collected her books to read again and again, especially when they feel miserable or depressed.Her books will always be treasured for their moral message, her pure and innocent heroines, her handsome and dashing heroes, her blissful happy endings and above all for her belief that the power of love is more important than anything else in everyone’s life."



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Published 14 August 2012
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EAN13 9781908303257
Language English

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Copyright © 2007 by Cartland Promotions
First published on the internet in May 2007
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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Viola felt sick with nerves as she looked up to see the Earl marching towards her. He had barely reached her when, out of nowhere, Millicent appeared with a sulky look on her face. “Charles, you promised you would dance this one with me,” she pleaded in a wheedling tone of voice whilst twirling a curl around her finger. “I am sorry, Miss Armitage, but you must be mistaken. I have already promised Miss Brookfield the first dance. Viola?” he added, offering her his arm. Viola felt as if it was a dream as he led her onto the dance floor. Immediately, his strong arms took her in his charge as they swept around in an elegant waltz. “I confess that I have never seen anyone more lovel y than you are tonight,” he whispered, as theBlue Danubein her ears. “You are so very beautiful. I  swelled am breathless with admiration.” Viola lowered her eyes as her heart sang. She moved nearer to him as they danced and it thrilled her to be so close. ‘I love him so much,’ she thought, as she gazed up into his warm green eyes, ‘would it be too much to hope that he might care for me?’ As they swung round, she caught sight of Millicent who was dancing with an elderly gentleman. She shot Viola a look full of vitriol.
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 2 0 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 aga in 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 tribu te 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 o nly on the internet. Log on to www.barbaracartland.comfind out how you can purchase the books monthly as they are to published, and take out a subscription that will en sure 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 : Barbara Cartland.com Ltd. 240 High Road, Harrow Weald, Harrow HA3 7BB United Kingdom. Telephone & fax: +44 (0)20 8863 2520
1. The Cross of Love 2. Love in the Highlands 3. Love Finds the Way 4. The Castle of Love 5. Love is Triumphant 6. Stars in the Sky 7. The Ship of Love 8. A Dangerous Disguise 9. Love Became Theirs 10. Love Drives In 11. Sailing to Love 12. The Star of Love 13. Music is the Soul of Love 14. Love in the East 15. Theirs to Eternity 16. A Paradise on Earth 17. Love Wins in Berlin 18. In Search of Love 19. Love Rescues Rosanna 20. A Heart in Heaven 21. The House of Happiness 22. Royalty Defeated by Love 23. The White Witch 24. They Sought Love 25. Love is the Reason for Living 26. They Found Their Way to Heaven 27. Learning to Love Journey to Happines 28. A Kiss in the Desert 29. The Heart of Love 30. The Richness of Love 31. For Ever and Ever
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.
“All the greatest music, literature and music ever written is always about love.”
Barbara Cartland
“Goodbye, Mama! Goodbye, Papa!” Viola wept profusely as she threw two handfuls of earth into the open grave that had been freshly dug that morning. As she let the earth fall, she felt so utterly alone that it was as if the other mourners, who stood around her, were not present. Viola Brookfield had only just celebrated her twenty-first birthday when it happened – the tragic series of events that led to both her parents being killed. They had set off, one bright Spring morning, in the ir new automobile for a second honeymoon in the South of France. Viola had not wanted to be left alone in the big ho use in Connaught Square that was only moments away from Hyde Park. “Please do not go. I shall be so lonely,” she had implored them as Morton, the butler, supervised the loading of trunks onto the new motor car. “Darling, we shall not be long – it is only a week and then we shall return with lots of presents for you,” her mother had said, kissing her daughter. “Mama, I do not care for presents, I would prefer that we were together, as a family.” “We shall be one once more upon our return,” answered her father, whose dashing good looks still made the ladies’ heads turn. Reluctantly Viola had waved them off as the automobile sprang noisily into life and slowly inched away from the kerb. Her last sight of them was as they turned the corner into Connaught Street, her mother waving furiously with the long scarf that secured her hat wound around her elegant throat and its ends floating in the breeze like bunting at a fair. Her lovely face was alive with pleasure and expectation, while her husband concentrated on the task in hand – looking straight ahead, his f ace was set into an expression of grim concentration. He had not looked back. Viola could not stop berating herself for not being more insistent that they remain in London. For that was the last time she saw either of them. The headlamps on the car were not strong enough to light their way through the dark French night and, just outside of Nice, the automobile spun off a sharp bend and down a cliff taking them to their deaths. She remembered the day that the Policeman had come to the door, asking to see her. Morton’s grave face alerted her that something terrible had happened. “There is an Officer of the Law to see you, Miss Viola,” he had said, his voice shaking as he wrung his hands. Viola had felt as if she was about to faint, but co mposed herself sufficiently to walk to
the morning room. The Policeman had not sat down and was standing by the door, ready to make a hasty exit as soon as he had imparted his news. “Miss Brookfield?” he had asked, as she entered the room. “I am afraid that I have some bad news for you. It is your mother and father.” Viola had been forced to sit down, as her legs began to turn to jelly. She barely heard the remainder of what he said, as she was only consciou s of a searing pain that gripped her heart and squeezed it until she could scarcely breathe. The Policeman had left and she remained sitting in her chair for an age afterwards. Hot tears scalded her cheeks as she moaned softly to herself. Morton had not known what to do with her when he entered the room some time later and so called for Milly, Viola’s lady’s maid. Milly rushed to Viola’s side and helped her upstairs to her bedroom, where she remained for the rest of the day, weeping endlessly, refusing food or drink. A pall of silence fell upon the house and so it remained, with the windows masked with heavy curtains like closed eyelids, until the day of the funeral. And now just three weeks later the Brookfields were finally being laid to rest in All Souls cemetery in Kensal Green. As the crowd around the grave began to depart, Viola could not tear herself away. “Just a moment longer,” she said to her Cousin Agnes, who came up and softly took her arm, “I do not think that I can bear to say the final farewell and leave.” “Shall I ask for your carriage to be brought to the end of the avenue?” asked Agnes. “Please, a little longer,” pleaded Viola. Agnes moved away from her grieving cousin and joined the throng who were making their way back to their own transport. Viola had not wanted to replace her parents’ wrecked car and now, superstitiously, she refused to travel in any conveyance that did not have a horse pulling it. A chilly wind suddenly blew across the cemetery and Viola shivered. Her black satin cape was thin and did not provide adequate protection. “Come, miss, the carriage is here,” suggested Milly, gently. She and the other servants had stood respectfully at the back of the crowd around the grave and were now making their way to Kensal Road to catch the tram. “I will come with you, miss, if that is what you want,” offered the girl. Viola tore her eyes away from the deep trench. She could no longer bear to look at the expensive coffins, placed one on top of the other, with their ornate brass handles and sober plaques. “Goodbye, Mama. Goodbye, Papa,” she repeated softly feeling as if she was leaving a part of herself down in that muddy trench with them. Dabbing her eyes, Viola followed Milly to the waiting phaeton. The horses were a pair of black stallions, especially selected for the sombre occasion and the windows were swathed in black curtains. Stepping inside, Viola was glad that they could be pulled to and obscure her from prying eyes.