The Keys of Love Read online

  Henrietta and Nanny did their best to keep order in the house, a big rambling adobe, ranch-style building, but the heat and flies seemed to affect everyone.

  Henrietta’s one consolation was that her father had to work so hard on the farm that his mind could not dwell very often on the loss of his adored wife.

  Then, one evening, one of the Mexican farmhands, Pablo, came running to the house in great excitement. He must speak to the ‘Meester’.

  Lord Radford had left Pablo sinking a new well to the North of the farm.

  “I dig deeper and deeper and stop to wipe my face,” babbled Pablo, “and when I take up my spade again, what is coming out of the earth at my feet but plenty water!

  “Plenty. Only it ees thick. And black. Black as my kettle. It bubbles up, Meester, as if eet has no end!”

  Lord Radford had leaped up in an instant. He knew what that meant.

  Oil!

  He was now a wealthy man!

  The fortunes of the Radfords had turned at last.

  Too late, alas, to save his wife! But not too late to save Lushwood and to ensure a comfortable future for his darling daughter.

  Henrietta was sent North to Boston, where she was lodged with Nanny and attended a finishing school. She was sorry to leave her father, but not dusty Texas.

  She made good friends among her schoolmates, but after six months she felt ‘finished’ enough.

  She had learned posture and etiquette and how to sit with her hands in her lap, but her mind hungered for more substantial fare.

  Left to her own devices in the big house on Boston Common, she read all she could lay her hands on, and even taught herself to speak French.

  Her father visited when he could, but she knew that he was busy sinking wells and building up his business and she would have dearly loved to see more of him.

  Meanwhile, as news of the oil find on the Radford land spread North, Henrietta found herself besieged by a growing number of suitors.

  Most were from impoverished European Royalty or aristocracy come to America to marry into money.

  There just seemed to be a virtual epidemic of these men offering some title or other in return for a fat dowry.

  One day she was beginning to dream wistfully of a man who would love her for something other than the large number of gold nuggets stacking up in her father’s account in the Bank of North America.

  She started from her reveries when the door of the drawing room opened and Nanny put her head round.

  “It’s a lovely bright day, my dear. Would you care to go skating?”

  Henrietta jumped up in delight.

  “Oh yes, Poody!”

  Poody was her chidhood pet name for Nanny.

  It had been snowing all morning, but now the sun was out and the frozen pond was shining like pewter.

  She sailed gaily onto the ice, her hands enveloped in a thick white muff. Soon her cheeks were rosy red and her eyes sparkling.

  Blonde curls fluttered about her face though most of her hair was tucked into a soft white fur hat.

  Nanny thought that she looked a delightful picture in the pale winter sunlight.

  There was a delicate crunch of snow underfoot as a gentleman wearing a cloak and a black racoon hat came to the edge of the pond. He lit up a big cigar and stood there, smoking and watching Henrietta.

  She was not aware of him at first as her eyes were half closed as she whirled and twirled, feeling wonderfully alone in this powdery sparkling kingdom.

  It was only when she skated closer to the shore that her gaze fell on her watcher.

  His intense stare unnerved her and before she knew it she was wobbling dangerously.

  Next she landed unceremoniously on her back.

  Henrietta heard Nanny’s gasp and then she could hear someone else slide out onto the ice.

  A second later the gentleman in the racoon hat was hovering over her, his cigar still smoking in his hand.

  “You are not hurt?” he enquired.

  “N-no. I don’t think, I am,” murmured Henrietta.

  “Well, please, allow me to help you to your feet.”

  He threw aside the cigar and extended his hand.

  Henrietta was lifted up and guided onto the bank.

  Nanny fussed around her, removing her skates and shaking the powdery ice from her muff.

  Henrietta stood still mutely, glancing up from under her long lashes at the handsome stranger.

  For he was indeed handsome in a very sharp way.

  His lips and nose were delineated like cut glass and his eyebrows were quite straight. His eyes were blue and might have seemed frosty to other observers, but Henrietta was only aware of the searching interest they betrayed.

  ‘Well,’ she thought, ‘at least he likes me and I think he does like me for myself alone, for he has no idea of who I am.’

  “Your home is far?” he asked with evident concern. It was clear from his accent that he was not American.

  “No, very close,” replied Henrietta. “We are just over there. The house with yellow shutters.”

  The gentleman followed her eye. Henrietta gave him no chance to enquire her name.

  She did not wish to spoil the pleasure of being admired for herself alone.

  Back in her little red boots and galoshes and her muff restored, she quickly bid the stranger adieu.

  When she glanced over her shoulder as she left the common with Nanny, he was still watching her.

  *

  The very next morning she heard the doorbell ring.

  A moment later a maid came into the drawing room to announce that Prince Vasily of Rumania requested the pleasure of calling upon the young lady with the red boots and the white fur hat.

  It was clearly the gentleman from the day before.

  ‘And he still does not have any idea of who I am,’ thought Henrietta in delight.

  Prince Vasily was dressed in scarlet and clicked his heels when he greeted her.

  “You now know my name,” he began, “but I am at the disadvantage, for I do not know yours.”

  Henrietta hesitated.

  “It is Henrietta Radford,” she replied at last, staring up at him.

  She waited for an instant gleam of recognition, for the inevitable glitter of pecuniary interest to enter his eyes as with so many of her suitors, but it did not come.

  “Radford?” he repeated. “I think you are not native to Boston, no?”

  “No,” she breathed. “I am English. My father is in Texas for a while on business.”

  “I wish him success, for Texas is hard country.”

  Convinced that here at last was a man who had no interest in her fortune, the next hour passed like a dream.

  She learned that the Prince was travelling the world before he settled down to administer his estate near Okna, in the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains.

  When the Prince begged leave to call on her again, Henrietta was happy to accede to his wish.

  Even Nanny approved.

  The Prince took to calling every morning and soon he and Henrietta were driving out together in his splendidly upholstered carriage.

  One morning he sighed as he looked out upon the snowy streets of Boston.

  “In my country now, there is also much snow, and the mountains are looking like pillars of ice.”

  “It sounds as if it’s very beautiful there,” murmured Henrietta.

  “It is beautiful, but ” the Prince heaved a deeper sigh, “mine is a Kingdom that is lacking a Princess!”

  With a thrill Henrietta realised that the Prince was now seriously courting her.

  Since he had not known her name when they first met and therefore could not possibly be a fortune hunter, Henrietta allowed herself to take his attentions seriously.

  She began to imagine herself as a Princess, strolling the grounds of Okna on the arm of her handsome husband.

  She found herself blushing whenever he raised her hand to his lips or fixed an especially ardent gaze on
her.

  She was very excited when her father wired to say he would be arriving that weekend for a short visit.

  She could not wait to introduce him to the Prince.

  He was almost the first subject raised as her father set down his case in the hall on his arrival.

  “He is very aristocratic, Papa, and his manners are impeccable! And he must have a fortune of his own, for he rides in a fancy carriage. He is just as a Prince should be!”

  “Is he, indeed!” smiled her father, handing his hat to the maid.

  He was only too well aware of the many greedy and unscrupulous men who had been endlessly plying her with their attentions for the last twelve months.

  “Oh, he is, Papa. And the best thing is he had no idea who I was when I first met him and no idea who I was when he first called on me.”

  Here the maid gave a little start and almost dropped the hat.

  However, neither her father nor Henrietta noticed.

  “So you see, Papa,” she went on, “he must like me for myself alone, mustn’t he?”

  “I suppose so ” he replied, removing his coat.

  Lord Radford followed her into the drawing room.

  “And how is Nanny?” he asked.

  “Oh, she is somewhat under the weather these last two days. She has remained in bed.”

  Not wishing him to worry, she plunged on quickly.

  “She says she’s feeling better already, although she won’t come down to greet you until tomorrow morning.”

  Palms under his chin, he now regarded his daughter fondly. She was wearing a pretty dress of pink and white gingham and a white ribbon held back her blonde locks.

  “I do declare, Henrietta, you are turning into quite the American girl!” he teased.

  “Papa, I’m not am I?”

  Lord Radford laughed.

  “Well, perhaps not quite yet. If we are here for much longer, though ”

  “Papa, don’t torment me. I like American girls and I like America. It’s just that I don’t want to feel like a stranger when we go home. I will be going home one day, won’t I, Papa?”

  “Well, I have some news in that respect that I think will please you.”

  “What is it, Papa?”

  “I have been training a manager to take over from me in the business. You and I will be able to return home before the end of the year and start renovating Lushwood!”

  “Oh, Papa, will we really?” breathed Henrietta in great excitement.

  “Yes. I have been compiling a list of architects to help us. We cannot book our passage just yet, but we can start thinking about the improvements we would like.”

  “That is wonderful news. However ” Henrietta’s face suddenly fell.

  “I wonder if England will be on Prince Vasily’s itinerary?”

  ‘Ah!’ mused Lord Radford, regarding his daughter closely. ‘So that’s the way of it! I had better meet this fellow without any delay, it seems!’

  “Shall we then invite him to supper and find out?”

  Henrietta clapped her hands in delight.

  Later that evening, she and her father were waiting in the drawing room for the Prince to arrive when the maid knocked and entered.

  With a glance at Henrietta, she asked if she might speak privately with Lord Radford.

  He rose and followed her out into the corridor.

  Henrietta looked up at her father when he returned after several minutes.

  “What is it, Papa?” she asked, as he stood regarding her with evident concern.

  “There is something you should know,” he began, and then the doorbell rang loudly.

  Henrietta sprang up.

  “There he is, Papa. Now you will see! But what is it that I must know ?”

  “It must wait until later,” he murmured, listening to the sound of the maid hurrying to the front door.

  As the Prince strode in, Henrietta thought he looked so distinguished with his scarlet jacket and white gloves.

  She was perturbed at the slight frown that hovered on her father’s brow, but it was gone in an instant.

  All evening he was the perfect host and all evening Prince Vasily was the perfect guest, appreciative, attentive, and full of polite conversation.

  When Henrietta asked him eagerly if England was on his itinerary, he remarked elegantly that it surely would be if she was there.

  When at last the Prince left after a glass of brandy and a cigar with Lord Radford, Henrietta could not wait to discover her father’s impression.

  She burst into the library.

  “Papa!”

  Lord Radford looked up.

  “My dear?”

  “Papa! Tell me, please. What did you think of my Prince?”

  Her father regarded her gravely.

  “It’s what you think of him that troubles me.”

  Henrietta frowned.

  “Troubles you? Why?”

  Her father sighed and reached for the decanter.

  “You like him a great deal, I know, but how do you know he is all that he says he is?”

  “How do I know? Why because because it’s he who tells me so.”

  Lord Radford shook his head.

  “But my dear, I’m afraid that I have to tell you that he is an accomplished dissembler.”

  He might as well have struck his daughter.

  She paled and stepped back.

  “Di ssembler? How do you know?”

  In answer, he rose, went to the door and called for the maid.

  Henrietta stared at him feeling bewildered. He did not speak until the maid appeared, her eyes cast down.

  “Will you now repeat to my daughter what you told me earlier,” he urged wearily.

  The maid clasped and unclasped her hands.

  “It was when I heard Miss Henrietta say the Prince didn’t know who she was when he first called at the house, I thought, hadn’t I better speak up? You see I had noticed him weeks ago, driving by the house time after time in that carriage.

  “Then I heard he was asking questions around the district. He knew who she was all right and only yesterday I heard from the baker, who heard it from the farrier, that the carriage and the get-up are all hired. It’s said round the town that he has hardly a cent to his name. He’s a fortune seeker, sure as apples are green!”

  There was a long silence, whilst the maid twisted her hands together, worrying as to whether she had done the right thing or not.

  Henrietta stood for a long time feeling tearful.

  “Oh, dear,” she spoke at last in a low sad voice. “I- I’ve been rather a fool, haven’t I!”

  “I sure am sorry, miss,” said the maid.

  “That’s alright,” Henrietta told her soberly. “You were right to tell me. When the Prince calls tomorrow, do not on any account let him in. And now I must go to bed. Goodnight, Papa.”

  Her father hesitated before he answered.

  “Goodnight, my dearest,” he said gently, impressed with his daughter’s composure.

  He was not to hear her sobbing later in her room, as she pressed her face into her pillow to stifle the sound.

  *

  The next day, Lord Radford went to visit the bank.

  Henrietta did not go with him, as she felt somewhat fatigued. She had not slept at all well.

  She was sewing quietly in the drawing room when the doorbell sounded and she held her breath, listening.

  Yes, it was Prince Vasily.

  She recognised his exclamation of surprise as the maid informed him that her Mistress was not at home.

  Then there was the sound of the door being closed.

  She breathed out in relief and took up her sewing.

  Only a few minutes had passed when she heard the squeak of the gate in the yard at the back of the house.

  She sat, hand poised over her sampler.

  Was that someone mounting the iron stairway that led to the first floor balcony?

  Was that a shadow by the drawing room windo
w?

  Was somebody there?

  She was about to put down her sampler and reach for the bell when the window was thrown open and a pair of highly polished boots appeared over the low sill.

  Prince Vasily followed!

  “H-how dare you!” she gasped, rising in horror.

  She reached again for the bell pull, but the Prince sprang forward and threw himself at her feet.

  “Please, you must hear me,” he moaned. “My heart is burning. Why do you not wish to see me today, why?”

  “It’s not just for today I do not wish to see you,” asserted Henrietta, trying hard to suppress the tremor in her voice. “It’s forever.”

  “Forever?”

  The Prince stared in disbelief.

  “What means this?”

  She noticed for the first time, as she gazed down at him, that the end of his nose was as thin as a knife blade.

  “It means,” she answered as calmly as she could, “that I am no longer deceived.”

  “Deceived!”

  The Prince rose magisterially from his knees.

  “How do I deceive you? I am impassioned for you. Impassioned!”

  He did indeed appear impassioned, his nostrils were quivering and his pupils burning with ardour.

  “I’m so sorry if you are, Prince, for I am not!”

  “You refuse me? It is quite impossible,” he cried and with that he lunged forward to embrace her.

  Her sampler and its sharp pin was an impediment.

  “Oooch!” yelped the Prince, holding up a palm on which a bead of blood had instantly appeared.

  “I am afraid I can only think it serves you right,” said Henrietta, in what she hoped was an icy tone. “Now you must please leave or I shall call one of the servants.”

  It was at this very moment that the Prince appeared to metamorphose before her very eyes.

  All ardour so obviously feigned was gone in a flash.

  His lips tightened until they seemed a thread drawn under his moustache. His eyes hardened like hailstones.

  “You would call a servant to remove me?”

  “Y-yes. C-certainly,” replied Henrietta, unnerved by the malice now apparent in the Prince’s demeanour.

  “Nobody threatens this to Prince Vasily,” he hissed. “Nobody. I will go, but you will regret such treatment of me. This I promise!”

  Henrietta trembled as he put his face close to hers.