The Peril and the Prince Read online

“It is true, Your Highness, that you will be the most beautiful bride Russia or any other country for that matter, has ever seen and – of course I wish you the greatest happiness – now and for – ever!”

  She could not control a little tremor in her voice as she said the last words.

  But the Princess only gave her the triumphant smile of a woman who has got her revenge and turned what had seemed to be a defeat into a stunning victory.

  Prince Ivan had not yet spoken and, as if he sensed that something was wrong, the Czar said somewhat heavily,

  “I have always been fond of you, dear boy, and it is time you settled down and had a family. I was already married by the time I was your age.”

  Still the Prince did not speak and the Czar went on.

  “You will, of course, be married in the Cathedral of St. Petersburg and hold your Reception at the Winter Palace.”

  “That is extremely generous of Your Majesty,” the Prince said at last.

  Vida thought his voice to anybody except herself would have sounded calm and normal.

  Only she was aware with her sixth sense, which they had talked about together, that he was angry, almost uncontrollably angry at being tricked.

  But he knew, as she did, that there was nothing he could do about it.

  The Emperor of all the Russias had issued a decree and there was nothing the Prince could do but obey.

  Only when Vida had gone up to her room where Margit was waiting for her, did she allow the smile she felt was fixed on her face as if it were glued there, to fade.

  As soon as the housekeeper had escorted her into her bedroom and had closed the door behind her, her whole body seemed to sag as if the life in it were ebbing away from her.

  As she moved forward, almost groping her way, to sit down on a chaise longue that stood at the foot of the bed, Margit gave a cry of concern.

  “What’s happened, Miss Vida? Are you ill?”

  It was impossible for Vida to reply and Margit said again,

  “If you feel faint, I will fetch you some brandy.”

  “No, no, I am – all right,” Vida managed to respond.

  She pulled her bonnet from her head and put it down beside her, then said in a voice that did not sound like her own,

  “The Czar has just – arranged that the – Prince shall – marry the Princess Eudoxia!”

  Margit stared at her for a moment as if she had not understood. Then, as she picked up Vida’s bonnet, she remarked,

  “That’s certainly a surprise, but there’s no reason why it should concern you.”

  “Of course it concerns me!” Vida said. “He has no wish to – marry her!”

  ‘Then he should not have played about with the girl,” Margit retorted. “I heard when we were in The Castle that one of the Prince’s lady guests had left in a precipitate way the morning after we arrived. The housekeeper kept sayin’ how strange it was when she had come intendin’ to stay for at least a week! And her chaperone, who I believe was also her Lady-in-Waiting, had to leave too and was ever so cross about it!”

  “The Princess was jealous because the Prince was paying too much attention to me!” Vida said.

  “Well, it’s no use cryin’ over spilt milk,” Margit said, “and if you asks me, the sooner we get away from here and back to normality, the better!”

  “I agree with you,” Vida replied. “The Princess obviously asked for me to accompany Prince Ivan here simply so that she could gloat over me.”

  “You can’t trust them Russians!” Margit exclaimed.

  They were talking in English and Vida suddenly was frightened in case anybody listening to the way Margit spoke would suspect that she was not Russian.

  She put her fingers to her lips to warn Margit that she was being indiscreet and the old maid, taking the hint, said in French,

  “I shouldn’t say rude things about your countrywomen, should I, my Lady? But I hope you haven’t forgotten that you promised to stay with your relatives in Hungary as soon as we can get back.”

  “I have not forgotten,” Vida said, “and all I want is to see my friends again.”

  She was, of course, thinking of her father and that when she told him the whole story he would understand and would not find fault with her.

  Then, as she thought of him and his warning, she told herself that if she had any pride at all she would not let the Princess, or for that matter, the Prince, realise what she was feeling.

  In any case, it was absurd that she should have believed all that he had said to her on the train, because even then there had been no future for them together.

  She was quite certain that the idea of marriage had never crossed his mind and just as he had tried to make love to her before in The Castle, she suspected that when they returned there he would have attempted once again to make her his.

  It would have been very difficult to withstand him, she thought, and then was ashamed that she should be so weak as to contemplate for one moment forsaking the principles that had been hers since she was a young girl.

  She had been taught that it would be wrong to allow a man to kiss her unless she was to marry him.

  Yet when the Prince had kissed her and brought her a rapture that was different from anything she had ever imagined in her dreams, it had not seemed wrong, but so right and so perfect that it had been Divine.

  ‘How can I question anything that seemed to come from God?’ she asked herself now.

  Yet she knew that she was now being punished for what she had done and there was no point in complaining about it.

  She put her feet up on the chaise longue, lay back against the cushions and closed her eyes.

  Without realising it, she was calling on the Power that had sustained both her father and herself ever since she had worked with him.

  When they had found themselves in difficult situations from which she had thought it would be absolutely impossible for him to extricate them without his identity being discovered, they had used the Power.

  But what had happened in Russia was far more dangerous, far more frightening, than anything she had ever experienced before.

  It was stupid to pretend that if the Secret Police had actually caught him as they intended he would not have been tortured until he divulged all the information they required.

  After which he would certainly have been exterminated.

  But he was safe and the price she had to pay for his safety was that she was hopelessly in love with a man who had attracted dozens of women before her and would doubtless attract dozens more in the future.

  Now he was being compelled to pay the penalty, not for a criminal offence, but for his philandering.

  The Princess Eudoxia had turned the tables on him and in such a clever way that he was now a prisoner for the rest of his life.

  Vida knew enough about Russia to be aware that not only was the Czar’s word law, but also that anybody who offended him in the slightest degree could find themselves on the gallows or at the very least being sent to Siberia.

  She had heard so many tales of the terrible sufferings of even Noblemen who had upset the Czar in one way or another.

  They were marched off in chains to the salt mines, their possessions confiscated and their families left to starve.

  There was no question of that happening to Prince Ivan Pavolivski.

  He would marry the beautiful Princess Eudoxia and become through her even closer to the Czar than he was already.

  As far as she herself was concerned, Vida was certain that he had always been a man who was out of reach and he would be crying for himself and his freedom that had meant so much to him.

  There would always be other women in his life, but she was sure that Princess Eudoxia would be possessive and very jealous.

  He would not be able to flaunt his love affairs openly as he had been able to do until now.

  ‘I suppose it is poetic justice,’ Vida said to herself.

  But that thought did not help to cure the ache in
her heart that was like a physical wound or the feeling that an icy hand, when she least expected it, had clutched her round the neck, choking the very breath out of her body.

  By the time she had had a bath and changed into one of the exotic gowns she had brought to wear at The Castle, she told herself that she was British and must not appear overwhelmed or even disconcerted by what had occurred.

  Yet because she really felt ill, she made Margit give her a spoonful of brandy, which they always carried for medicinal reasons when they were travelling.

  When she had done so, she thought that her eyes looked brighter and less stricken.

  She applied a little rouge to her cheeks, darkened her eyelashes with mascara and, wearing a tiara which had belonged to her mother and which she thought would compare favourably with any of the Princess Eudoxia’s jewels, she slowly descended the staircase.

  A flunkey was waiting in the large hall to lead her to the room where everybody was to meet before dinner.

  As she entered it, Vida was glad to see that it was quite a large party.

  Some of the guests, she had learnt from Margit, were staying in the house and others had been invited in specifically to meet the Czar.

  The men looked resplendent, wearing their decorations on their evening coats or uniforms.

  But the Prince stood out, wearing the ribbon of St. Michael across his chest and innumerable diamond decorations on his evening coat.

  The women glittered like Christmas trees, but Vida felt that she could hold her own amongst them.

  When her host introduced her, she took pains to make herself pleasant, paying the women compliments and smiling invitingly at the men.

  Everybody was chattering gaily until, as they lined up formally before the Czar entered the room, a sudden hush fell like fog over the assembled company.

  It was then that Vida realised that standing opposite her was the Prince.

  For a moment their eyes met and she thought that there was an expression of pain in his.

  Then, as she looked away, she told herself that she was not concerned with his feelings but her own.

  What she had to do, as quickly as was humanly possible, was to forget him.

  At the same time, without really meaning to, she glanced at him again.

  He was looking at her and now, despite herself, she felt that little flicker of excitement within her that came a second before he took her in his arms.

  Then, as she tried to prevent it flooding through her heart and up to her lips, the Princess Eudoxia moved across the room from where she had been standing and slipped her arm through the Prince’s.

  As she did so, she threw back her head and looked up at him, the long line of her neck very lovely and very sensuous against the dark texture of his coat.

  Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes very eloquent, as if she told him aloud how much she wanted him.

  It was then, instead of ecstasy, that Vida felt that there was murder in her heart and she was frightened by the violence of her own feelings.

  Chapter Seven

  Having cried herself to sleep, Vida awoke feeling miserable with an aching head.

  She lay in the dim light wishing that she need not rouse herself and wanting to drift back into unconsciousness.

  She knew that with every breath she drew the pain she was feeling became harder to bear and, although she tried to tell herself it was ridiculous, she felt that she was being crucified.

  Margit came into the room to pull back the curtains.

  “It’s time you were up, Miss Vida!” she said cheerfully, “as I understands we’re leavin’ today.”

  Vida forced herself to open her eyes.

  Last night, after what she thought to anyone would have been an extremely dull evening compared to those she had enjoyed at The Castle, the Czar had retired soon after midnight, and the party broke up.

  Vida had learnt that His Imperial Majesty disliked late hours and when he was at the Winter Palace he would wander awkwardly through the reception rooms until at two o’clock he would begin to look at his watch.

  “Most Russian parties,” her father had explained, “do not end until breakfast time at six o’clock in the morning, but the Czar has a disconcerting habit of dismissing the orchestra one by one. When the band is reduced to a piano player and a violinist, even the most ardent party goer knows that it is time to go home!”

  Vida had laughed at the time, but she was therefore not surprised at the Czar’s behaviour last night, although on this occasion he was not the host.

  He had talked first to one person, then to another, hardly finishing one conversation before he started the next.

  She had, in fact, had a short talk with him soon after they had left the dining room.

  “I cannot remember ever meeting anybody of your name before, Countess,” he said abruptly, almost as if he was accusing her of deceiving him.

  “I am afraid, Your Majesty, that most of my relatives are dead,” Vida replied. “Those who are left are, I understand, very old, and seldom travel far from their homes.”

  He was appraising her almost as if she was a horse and he was sizing up her points.

  Then he said,

  “I understand you are a widow. I presume you are looking for another husband.”

  Vida managed to answer in a soft voice,

  “I hope, one day, Your Majesty, that I shall find somebody I can love and who will love me.”

  “Love?” the Czar exclaimed sharply. “What you want, you foolish woman, is security and a man who can protect you.”

  “I hope I may be lucky enough to find one, Your Majesty,” Vida answered.

  He walked away from her as if he thought that any further conversation was a waste of time.

  Making desperate efforts not to look towards the Prince, Vida talked to an elderly woman who was seated on a nearby sofa.

  When the guests who had come from outside the Palace started to leave, she saw the Prince standing alone at the end of the room and wondered if she dared go to his side.

  As if because she was thinking of him he became aware of her, he turned to gaze at her and for a moment their eyes met.

  Then before she could tell what he was feeling or thinking, he looked away and deliberately walked to the side of Princess Eudoxia, who was saying farewell to one of the departing guests.

  To Vida it was as if he was telling her pointedly that he had no further use for her and for a moment she felt the room swim round her and everything go blank.

  Then her pride made her force away the faintness that was beginning to seep over her and, picking up a glass that she saw on a side table, she drank from it.

  She had no idea if it contained water or wine or even poison for that matter.

  While she felt some of the weakness fade, she was aware that it would be wise for her to go to her bedroom.

  She passed one or two people who were saying good night to their host at the door.

  Then, just as she reached the Prince of Kiev and was about to make her excuses for retiring early, Princess Eudoxia walked towards her.

  “I understand, Countess,” she said, “that you are leaving tomorrow and so, of course, I must say farewell.”

  Vida curtseyed.

  “Goodbye, Your Highness.”

  “I hope it really is goodbye,” the Princess said in a low voice that only she could hear. “I shall make every effort, Countess, to see that we do not meet again.”

  There was venom in her voice and in the expression of her eyes and Vida did not reply.

  She merely curtseyed a little deeper than she had before, hoping the Princess was aware that she was being deliberately sarcastic in doing so and then said goodnight to her host.

  When she reached her bedroom, she felt as if the ceiling had crashed down on her head and the whole future was dark.

  Only as she started to undress did the tears come running down her cheeks and she felt as if each one of them was a drop of blood from her heart.
/>
  Now, surprised by what Margit had said, Vida asked,

  “Who told you we were leaving today?”

  “I was told so by one of the Palace servants,” Margit replied. “He said that a carriage would be waitin’ to take us to the railway station at one o’clock.”

  Vida did not answer and Margit went on.

  “The servant informed me that there would be luncheon arranged for us here at noon, but as we are travellin’ in His Highness’s train there will be plenty to eat and very much better food than in this place!”

  Vida’s eyes were wide as she asked,

  “How do you know we are travelling in His Highnesses train?”

  “His valet told me,” Margit answered.

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “Yes, he said that the Czar with the Prince and Princess Eudoxia were being shown round the Monastery of the Caves and would not be back for luncheon.

  Vida knew that the Monastery of the Caves was one of the sights of Kiev and all the Princes of Kiev were buried in the very ancient Church belonging to the Monastery.

  When she read about it, she had thought that it was something she would like to see, but there was now no hope of that.

  At the same time she was grateful to the Prince, even if he was no longer interested in her, for making sure that her exit from Russia would be in comfort.

  It was an agony to remember how happy she had been with him when they had travelled together in his train to Kiev.

  She remembered he had said that there were other things he wanted to say to her on the return journey.

  But now she was returning alone, while he would be in Kiev and after that in St. Petersburg with his beautiful bride-to-be.

  ‘He is just a meteor flashing through my life as Papa said he would be,’ Vida thought, ‘and I was very foolish to think that a meteor could stop long enough – even for me to tell him that – I love him.’

  She felt the tears come again into her eyes and lay back against the pillows.

  Because she was so silent, Margit was a little worried and went to the side of the bed.

  “Now, what are you upsettin’ yourself about, Miss Vida?” she asked. “If it’s His Highness, just forget him!”

  Vida merely closed her eyes and made no reply.