Two Hearts in Hungary Read online

  Then she told herself that she was being imaginative and quite ridiculous.

  Because the Prince thought that she was pretty, he had paid her charming compliments and he would have complimented in the same way any woman who took his fancy.

  To take him seriously would be a great mistake.

  Then it suddenly struck Aletha that perhaps he was being so familiar with her because her grandfather was a paid servant of the Duke.

  She would therefore not be a Lady, but of a lower class.

  She felt as if a cold hand was gripping her heart.

  With an effort she made herself remember that she was in Hungary only for a few days.

  And once they had bought the horses, they would go home.

  She would never see Prince Miklós again.

  ‘It would be a mistake to think too much about him,’ she told herself as they walked down the stairs.

  The Prince was waiting in a beautiful salon where they were to meet before dinner.

  As she and Mr. Heywood entered the room, he moved from the fireplace at the end of it.

  He had been talking to several other people and came towards them.

  He looked so smart, so dashing and so outstandingly handsome in his evening clothes that Aletha felt a very strange feeling within her breast.

  As he reached her, she realised that for no apparent reason she was blushing.

  The Prince took her hand.

  “Need I tell you that you look exactly as if you had stepped from one of the fountains,” he said. “And now I want to introduce you to my father.”

  As Aletha made a very graceful curtsey to Prince Jözsel, she realised that he was an older edition of his son.

  His second son Nikolas also resembled him, but his daughter Misina was attractive in a very different way. Aletha was to learn later that she greatly resembled her mother who had been a Romanian Princess.

  All the Estérházys were extremely pleasant to Aletha and Mr. Heywood.

  The conversation at dinner was witty and so amusing and they all seemed to be laughing all of the time.

  The food was superlative and they drank Tokay wine and French champagne.

  They ate off superb Sèvres china and Aletha thought that it was infinitely preferable to the flamboyant gold plate that the Baron had entertained them with.

  “What did you think of The Castle where you stayed last night?” Prince Jözsel asked Aletha.

  “I was very impressed by the outside of it,” she replied truthfully, “but I found the inside pompous and in no way compares with Your Highness’s lovely Palace.”

  The Prince laughed.

  “That is what I thought as well the only time I was there.”

  “And what did you think of the Baron?” Prince Nikolas enquired.

  The way he spoke made Aletha realise that he had already heard from his brother that she disliked the Baron.

  She therefore said demurely,

  “I thought he was very much ‒ like his Castle.”

  They all laughed and Prince Jözsel said,

  “That was a very diplomatic answer, Miss Link. It is always a mistake to make enemies unless one is absolutely obliged to do so.”

  “You can say that, Papa,” Misina exclaimed, “for the simple reason that people are too afraid to oppose you and therefore you have no enemies.”

  “I should be more flattered,” Prince Jözsel replied, “if you told me that they loved me for myself.”

  “I think that is impossible,” Misina replied, “and it applies to all of us.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Prince Jözsel enquired.

  “Because we Estérházys have a kind of aura about us. That is what people see and think of first,” his sister answered. “They are not really concerned with us as real people.”

  Aletha knew that she had put into words exactly what she was thinking herself.

  She then said before anybody else could speak,

  “I think if people are intelligent and sensible they seek what is real and true apart from the trappings. I want to be liked just for myself and not for any other reason.”

  As she spoke, she saw Mr. Heywood glance at her.

  She then realised that she had been talking as Lady Aletha Ling and not as ‘Miss Link’.

  “Of course,” she added quickly, “there is no comparison between all of you here with this wonderful Palace behind you and an ordinary person like me.”

  It was rather a lame cover-up, at the same time she felt that nobody would realise that she had ‘made a gaffe’.

  Just like the French the Estérházys clearly loved a good argument.

  They were all discussing whether position, title and wealth prevented those who had it from being really human.

  “Can you imagine,” Misina asked scornfully, “that anybody thinks that the Pope or the Emperor are just ‘ordinary’ men?”

  “To me a woman is a woman whether she is the Empress or a peasant!” Prince Nikolas piped up.

  He spoke very positively with his point of view..

  His family were aware that he was head-over-heels in love with the Empress Elizabeth.

  “Frankly I think that Misina is right,” her father said finally,

  “If everyone was to be the same, the whole structure of Society would collapse.”

  “And a good thing too!” Prince Nikolas insisted.

  Aletha noticed that Prince Miklós said nothing.

  After dinner Misina played the piano brilliantly and Aletha was able to listen to some of the beautiful Hungarian music as well as melodies by Johann Strauss.

  She was unaware that she swayed a little to the melody of The Blue Danube.

  Prince Miklós was watching her and the expression in his eyes made her feel shy.

  Finally when they went up to bed, he escorted her to the foot of the stairs.

  Mr. Heywood was having a last word with Prince Jözsel and Prince Miklós said in a low voice that only she could hear,

  “It makes me so happy to have you here! In your shimmering gown you not only seem part of the fountains but also of my home.”

  “You – you are flattering me,” Aletha answered him lightly.

  “I am serious,” he replied, “and I shall lie awake counting the hours until tomorrow!”

  Her eyes met his and she found it very difficult to look away from his penetrating gaze.

  Then, as she went up the stairs beside Mr. Heywood, she told herself again that she must not take him seriously. He was just being romantic and how could anyone be anything else when they were in beautiful Hungary?

  Chapter Six

  As Aletha dressed for dinner, she thought that it had been the most exciting day that she had ever spent.

  They had started by riding the new horses which had been brought round to the stables immediately after breakfast.

  They were not as impressive as those which Prince Miklós wished to keep.

  At the same time most of them were young and in her view had tremendous possibilities.

  Aletha knew from the look on Mr. Heywood’s face that he was more than delighted with what the Prince had produced.

  It seemed inevitable, Aletha thought, that she should ride beside Prince Miklós.

  Mr. Heywood went off on his own, taking jumps unexpectedly so as to properly test out the horse he was on. Occasionally he would gallop away only to return looking more pleased than he had before he started.

  “It is just hopeless,” Aletha said to Prince Miklós during the afternoon. “My grandfather obviously finds it impossible to choose which horses are the best.”

  The Prince laughed.

  “I assure you that we are only too willing to sell those we don’t want for ourselves.”

  “That is the whole point,” Aletha replied. “You are being greedy!”

  “I am also greedy about other things besides horses.”

  He was looking at her as he spoke with the expression in his eyes that she had begun to expect.
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  Every time she was aware of it, she felt a little tremor in her breast.

  She knew that being with him was not only interesting but also thrilling.

  ‘When I go home,’ she thought, ‘I shall never see him again, so it is no use feeling like this.’

  But she could not in any way suppress what she was feeling.

  Nor could she stop herself from knowing that her heart turned over whenever he paid her a compliment.

  “You are too good to be true,” he said. “Ever since I met you I find it hard to believe you are real.”

  “My father once said that if you prick a King he bleeds and that makes sure that he is a human being.”

  She expected the Prince to give her some witty reply.

  Instead he looked away from her.

  When she glanced at him in surprise, she knew instinctively that he wished to say that he wanted to kiss her.

  The idea did not shock her. Nor did she feel disgusted, as she had when the Baron had spoken of her lips.

  ‘Perhaps it would be very exciting to be kissed by a Hungarian in Hungary,’ she thought, ‘and certainly very romantic.’

  Then, as she glanced at the Prince, she sensed that he was reading her thoughts.

  For a moment they just gazed at each other.

  “I suppose you know,” he said, “you are torturing me unbearably. The sooner you go back to England the better!”

  He spoke so violently that she stared at him in astonishment.

  Without speaking another word, he turned his horse around and started to gallop back towards The Palace.

  After a few seconds Aletha started to follow him.

  He galloped ahead until they reached the entrance to the stables and then he waited.

  She rode up beside him and he burst out,

  “Forgive me! Sometimes you torture me beyond endurance!”

  She looked at him in bewilderment.

  As if he realised that she had no idea what he was talking about, he said gently,

  “Forget me. I want you to enjoy yourself and I suspect that your grandfather will soon make up his mind over the horses. Then you will be leaving Hungary behind.”

  “But I will have – your horses to remind me of – your wonderful – country,” Aletha replied.

  She wanted to add, ‘and to remind me of you’.

  But she knew that it was something that was far too intimate.

  As if once again he knew what she was thinking, he put out his hand towards her.

  After a moment’s pause, she gave him hers.

  She had pulled off her glove.

  As their bare skin touched, she felt something like a streak of lightning run through her.

  Then, as Prince Miklós took off his hat and bent down to kiss her hand, she knew that she loved him.

  It was something that she had never meant to do and she had never expected it.

  Yet, as her love surged through her, she knew that this was what she had always longed to feel for the Man of her Dreams.

  Of course it was what he was!

  She wondered how she could not have been aware of it when he had spoken to her on the terrace of the Royal Palace.

  “I love – you! I – love you!” she wanted to shout out to the whole wide world.

  As she felt the hard pressure of his lips on the softness of her skin, her fingers trembled.

  He was aware of it and he raised his head to gaze at her.

  To her surprise there was not the glow of admiration in his eyes but an unaccountable look of pain.

  It was so surprising and something that she did not and could not understand.

  The Prince released her hand, put his hat back on his head and rode ahead of her into the stables.

  She followed him feeling somewhat bewildered.

  Mr. Heywood was there speaking earnestly to Herr Hévis, who was doing most of his talking with his hands.

  Aletha knew that they were discussing the price for a dozen horses that were being led round them by several grooms.

  She slipped from her horse’s back without any assistance and then walked away from the stables towards The Palace.

  She hoped, because she could not help herself, that Prince Miklós would follow her.

  But she saw that when he dismounted he had joined Mr. Heywood.

  As she went up to her bedroom to change, she tried to puzzle out why he had behaved in such an odd manner.

  She thought that she did know the answer, but did not want to have to admit it to herself.

  In fact her whole being shied away from what she suspected might well be the truth.

  As if to soothe her feelings, she told herself that very naturally the dashing and romantic Hungarians were unpredictable and mysterious.

  How could they be anything else?

  She did not change and go downstairs.

  She thought that doubtless the ladies of the party would by now be congregated in one of the beautiful drawing rooms of The Palace.

  She felt that at this moment she could not bear to make light conversation.

  Every nerve in her body was pulsating towards the Prince.

  She therefore took off her habit, undressed and climbed into bed.

  “I will call you in plenty of time for your bath, fraulein,” the maid promised her.

  She dropped her a curtsey that was more of a bob before she left the room.

  Aletha knew that if she was staying there as her father’s daughter it would have been a much deeper one.

  The housekeeper would also have curtseyed to her instead of just inclining her head.

  She did not particularly wish for such obsequiousness, but at the same time it told her what she already knew.

  There was indeed a great difference between being a Duke’s daughter and the grandchild of a gentleman who could not afford to buy his own horses.

  She had only to meet the Prince’s father and other members of his family to know how excessively proud they were.

  Aletha had to admit that in a way her father was the same.

  Yet perhaps it was not so obvious in England as it was here in Hungary.

  As they had ridden past the many peasants coming from the fields, all the women had curtseyed to the Prince as they passed by them.

  The men had swept their hats from their heads and bowed deeply.

  They had also smiled at him with considerable affection.

  It was an affection tinged with respect that made him seem almost God-like and not of this earth.

  ‘I suppose it is very childish of me to love him,’ Aletha thought as she stepped into her bath. ‘I expect really that I am just infatuated with his glamour and the Fairytale background of The Palace.”

  She mused that it was exactly the right setting for the Prince of her Dreams, if that was what he was.

  She had learned that there were one hundred and twenty-six rooms in The Palace.

  Prince Jözsel was continually speaking of how much more magnificent it had been when first erected by his ancestor. The Opera House had been burned down and never rebuilt.

  Aletha tried to laugh at herself for being as impressed as the Prince expected her to be.

  ‘I could tell him that Ling Park, in its own way, is just as grand,’ she now reflected, ‘and actually the building itself is older.’

  Then she laughed at herself again for being so childish.

  She climbed out of her deliciously hot bath.

  The maid helped her to dress in what she thought was the prettiest gown she had brought with her. It was white and embroidered all over with tiny diamanté.

  It made her look as if she was a beautiful flower sparkled with tiny drops of dew.

  The impression was accentuated by the white flowers with diamanté on their petals that ornamented her neck. Diamanté as well glittered on the small bustle at the back where there were flowers caught in the folds of chiffon.

  Tonight Aletha wore no jewellery.

  The same flowers, th
at were something like white orchids, were arranged at the back of her head.

  When she went into the salon before dinner, she thought that Prince Miklós drew in his breath.

  A number of the other men who had been invited to dinner stared at her with undisguised admiration.

  “Now I know why the Estérházy Palace looks more beautiful than it ever has been in the past.” one of them complimented her.

  She smiled at the praise and felt her heart give a leap as she realised that the Prince was looking angry.

  She just knew that he was feeling jealous.

  She thought how wonderful it would be if he should love her as she loved him.

  Then she told herself that this was too much to ask.

  How could she expect that she would fall in love with the first really handsome man she had ever met? And in Hungary too.

  And how could she possibly expect him to feel the same about her?

  ‘Hungarians are romantic,’ she kept repeating to herself. Romantic!’

  That meant, she knew, that they would make love to every pretty woman they met, but she would not mean anything in their life.

  Of course they would flit from flower to flower.

  They would always be hoping against hope that they would find a more beautiful one the next day than they had found the day before.

  ‘I have to be sensible about this,’ she murmured to herself.

  At the same time she enjoyed every moment of the dinner.

  She found that nearly every man at the table was raising his glass to her in a toast to her beauty.

  The other young women present were looking at her sourly tinged with disbelief.

  She had already learnt that in London debutantes were not of any great consequence.

  Except for the moment when they were presented at Buckingham Palace. They attended the balls that they were invited to because their fathers were distinguished gentlemen.

  But they were overshadowed by the sophisticated married beauties, who were acclaimed not only by Society but also by the public and especially singled out by the Prince of Wales.

  ‘This is my glorious hour,’ Aletha told herself, ‘so I had better make the most of it!’

  As Prince Miklós had promised, she found that they were to have a gypsy orchestra in the huge magnificent white and gold ballroom.

  It was here that Haydn had conducted the first performance of his Farewell Symphony.