Barbara Cartland - Love at The Ritz

“That is something I shall certainly stop you from doing,” the Comte replied.

His fingers tightened on her ankle and she thought that he was going to pull her down towards him.

Holding tightly to the top of the ladder, Vilma screamed,

“Help! Help !”

Even as she did so, she knew that it was too soon for either the electrician or Monsieur Ritz to return.

She felt the Frenchman’s hand move a little further up her leg and screamed again.

“Help me, somebody! Oh, please – help me !”

Because she was so frightened, she spoke instinctively in English.

To her surprise and utter relief, she then heard an English voice asking,

“Can it be possible that one of my countrywomen is in trouble?”

A man appeared in the doorway and the Comte then turned round.

“Oh, it is you, Lynworth!” he exclaimed. “What the Hell are you doing here?”

“I am obviously coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress,” the newcomer replied. “I suppose, de Forêt, you are up to your old tricks again.”

“This is my room and you have no right to come into it,” the Comte retorted.

He was looking angrily at the newcomer.

Vilma then slipped down the ladder and went round to the other side of it from where the Frenchman was standing.

Then she ran towards the door, fearing that he might stop her from reaching it.

She could not pass through it because the tall broad-shouldered Englishman was standing there.

He put out his hand and took hers, saying,

“You are quite safe now. Like the White Knight, I have saved you from the Dragon!”

He spoke provocatively and his eyes were twinkling as he looked at the Comte .

“One day I will get even with you, Lynworth,” he threatened disagreeably.

“I doubt it, Monsieur le Comte,” the Englishman replied, “but, of course, I am ready to accept any challenge you wish to offer me.”

He turned away as he spoke and, taking Vilma by the arm, drew her down the passage.

Only when they had gone a little way from the Comte’s room did Vilma say,

“My hat! I have left my hat behind in his room.”

The Englishman drew a key from his pocket and opened a door on the other side of the corridor.

“Wait in here while I fetch it,” he suggested. “You will be quite safe.”

Without demur Vilma then walked into the room.

Saying no more, he closed the door behind her and she heard the key turn in the lock.

She found herself in an attractive sitting room not unlike the one adjoining the Comte’s bedroom.

She was a little breathless from fear and consternation at what had happened and she told herself severely that it was her own fault.

She should not have come to the Ritz Hotel in the first place.

It had been a great mistake to allow herself to be left alone and so enable the Comte to come into the room and assume that she was one of Cesar Ritz’s hotel staff.

‘Papa would be furious,’ she surmised.

She felt extremely grateful to the Englishman who had rescued her.

She then heard the key turn again in the lock of the door behind her.

A moment later he came into the sitting room with her hat in his hand.

“Your admirer,” he said with laughter in his voice, “wished to keep it as a souvenir, but I managed to take it from him.”

“Thank you – oh – thank – you !” Vilma cried. “I am so grateful to you for – saving me.”

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