A Royal Rebuke Read online

  “H.M.S. Victorious!” Lord Victor said sarcastically. “Well, I can only hope, my Lord, that from your point of view the voyage will be a success.”

  “I hope so too,” the Marquis said quietly. “But don’t forget, Victor, what is of prime importance. I am relying on you to use your eyes and ears and, above all that brain of yours, to bring me back a report that I can trust on what is going on in Zararis beneath all the pomp and glamour that you will be received with.”

  “I will do my best,” Lord Victor replied, “but you must not be disappointed if I find that there is nothing untoward.”

  “On the contrary, I shall be most relieved,” the Marquis answered. “At the same time I am extremely glad that you are going to Zararis.”

  “Which is more than I am,” Lord Victor murmured.

  “Although you may find it irksome,” the Marquis continued, “you may save a great many lives and help us to prevent the Czar from realising his ambitions with which he is completely obsessed.”

  “I have always heard that he is an exceedingly unpleasant man,” Lord Victor said, “and, unless I am mistaken, I believe he is mean to the point of madness.”

  He was searching his mind as he spoke to remember what he had heard or read about Czar Alexander III.

  The Marquis nodded.

  “You are right about that,” he said. “I am told that he wears his clothes until they are threadbare and his shoes until they fall off his feet!”

  Lord Victor laughed and the Marquis went on,

  “But his cruelty to the Jews has been unprecedented in the whole of history! He has killed thousands and it was estimated recently that two hundred and thirty-five thousand Jewish families had been forced out of Russia into Western Europe.”

  “Then the Czar certainly deserves any bad luck that is coming his way,” Lord Victor remarked.

  “That is what I feel,” the Marquis answered, “so let me, Victor, wish you the best of luck on what must appear to the outside world as a formal Royal duty, but which you and I know is something very different.”

  He rose as he spoke.

  “Take care of yourself, my dear boy. Put nothing in writing and don’t talk in your sleep!”

  Lord Victor laughed as he was meant to do.

  The Marquis put his hand affectionately on Lord Victor’s shoulder and walked with him to the door.

  As they reached it, he said quietly, almost as if he was afraid that someone might be listening to them,

  “Take no risks and remember that we are fighting a giant octopus that wants to gobble up the Balkan States, one by one.”

  He did not wait for Lord Victor to reply, but opened the door.

  As he did so, he said in a very different voice,

  “Goodbye, Victor. Give my good wishes to your father and say I hope that I shall be seeing him very soon.”

  “I know, my Lord, that he will much look forward to it,” Lord Victor said in the same careless good-humoured manner.

  He was smiling as he walked jauntily towards the front door to where his chaise was waiting.

  Only when he was alone did he wonder if he had been dreaming.

  Could it possibly be true that, when he had never thought of such a thing except as a joke, he was setting off on what could be an extremely dangerous mission?

  ‘I just don’t believe it!’ he said to himself.

  *

  Lord Victor spent the next day saying goodbye to a number of his friends as well as writing abject apologies for having to refuse a number of tantalising invitations that he had already accepted.

  Then he gave orders to his valet for what he required on the voyage.

  One invitation he regretted refusing more than any other was a house party being given by the lovely Daisy Brooke that included the Prince of Wales.

  Her husband was later to succeed to the Earldom of Warwick and Lord Victor knew how enjoyable the house party would be because Daisy was an outstanding hostess.

  She had also arranged for horse races on her private course at which he was confident of being the winner.

  He had found at parties that included the Prince of Wales that the guests were chosen very carefully and this was so that His Royal Highness should be amused from breakfast to dinner.

  It was also well known that he had fallen madly in love with Daisy Brooke.

  It was, Lord Victor was told, a very much deeper emotion than he had ever felt for any of the other beauties who had passed through his hands and this would, Lord Victor thought, add a spice to the party that would make it unforgettable.

  He cancelled all his engagements one after the other.

  As he did so, he could not help wondering if the Marquis of Salisbury was exaggerating the situation in Zararis.

  If so, the hush-hush game he was to take part in would not compensate him for the fun he was missing in England.

  However, as he told himself philosophically, it was no use ‘kicking against the pricks’.

  The following morning, when he had finished breakfast, Lord Victor set off for Tilbury.

  He could not help feeling, after what the Prime Minister had said, that he might be saying goodbye to Droxbrooke House for the last time.

  His valet had been surprised when he packed his revolver and he had also added to his ordinary clothes, garments that did not seem at all appropriate to a Palace.

  If he had to creep about dark streets at night or go underground, he could hardly be wearing his best and more formal attire.

  He travelled in his curricle towards Tilbury followed by his valet in a brake with his luggage.

  Lord Victor found himself thinking wistfully of the polo ground at Ranelagh, which was where he should, this afternoon, be playing a very intense game.

  There was also a dinner party tonight given by one of the great beauties of the moment, Lady Newman.

  The last time they had met she had made it clear that they should ‘get to know each other better’ and there was the same glitter in her eyes that there had been in Nancy Weldon’s.

  It was an invitation he could not misunderstand.

  “Damn! Damn! Damn!” he swore beneath his breath.

  The wheels of the curricle turned round and round in time to the words.

  How, he asked, could he have been such a fool as to get himself in a position where he was leaving everything that was enjoyable?

  He would be days and days at sea with no one to talk to and nothing to look at except the waves.

  H.M.S. Victorious was alongside the largest quay at Tilbury.

  As Lord Victor looked at her he had a wild desire to turn his horses round and drive away. Why, just for a whim of the Queen, should he have to waste a month or more of his precious life?

  Why was he not man enough to refuse the Royal Command?

  ‘I am not a soldier, I am not a sailor,’ he tried to argue. ‘I am supposed to be a free citizen with no restrictions on my movements.’

  Yet he knew as the horses came to a standstill that he was only fantasising.

  No man would dare to refuse the command of Queen Victoria, however brave they might think themselves to be.

  Her Majesty had committed him very effectively to prison and, if it took him two months to work out his sentence, there was nothing he could do about it.

  “Look after the horses, Johnson,” he said to his groom, “and don’t forget to send most of them to the country.”

  “Aye, I’ll no forget, my Lord,” Johnson replied. “’Ave a good voyage and I ’opes the sea’s not too rough for you.”

  “I hope so too,” Lord Victor answered.

  He realised as he walked up the gangplank that he was slightly late and that the rest of the party would have already arrived.

  The Captain confirmed that this was correct.

  Having greeted Lord Victor, he instructed a Junior Officer to take his Lordship below.

  “I hope, my Lord,” he said politely, “that you will join me later on the bridge, but I now wis
h to put to sea.”

  Lord Victor smiled.

  “I am sorry, Captain, that I kept you waiting.”

  “Only a few minutes, my Lord, but it is better to move with the tide and the sea is calm, thank goodness! It is certainly what the ladies prefer while we men have to put up with any weather.”

  “That is true,” Lord Victor nodded.

  He followed the Junior Officer from the deck and down the companionway.

  He was aware that on occasions like this the Captain’s private quarters were given up to the most important guest, while the Junior Officers were moved from their comfortable cabins to inferior ones.

  This meant that the Midshipmen had to accept any hole or corner that was left.

  “Would you like to go to your cabin straight away, my Lord?” the Officer conducting him asked.

  “I think first,” Lord Victor replied, “that I should make my apologies to Her Royal Highness. I have just realised that I should have been here in good time to welcome her on her arrival.”

  The Officer grinned.

  “There were plenty of us to do that, my Lord!”

  He opened a door as he spoke and Lord Victor went into a low-ceilinged, but large and comfortably furnished room.

  It was, he assumed, the Captain’s day cabin.

  There were a number of people present.

  When he appeared, an elderly man sprang to his feet and Lord Victor walked towards him.

  “You must forgive me, Your Excellency,” he said, “for being a little late. The traffic was heavier than I expected, so I hope that you will accept my apologies.”

  “Of course, my Lord, of course!” the Zararis Ambassador replied with a heavy foreign accent. “And now that your Lordship has arrived, let me introduce you to our party.”

  He walked across the cabin as he spoke to where two elderly ladies with grey hair were sitting side by side. He introduced Lord Victor and they would have risen to their feet, if he had not told them quickly not to move.

  They were both Baronesses and spoke English with some difficulty.

  Beside them was another man who Lord Victor understood was a Statesman, who had been sent to represent his Prime Minister on this auspicious occasion.

  He spoke practically no English, and Lord Victor realised that he was in fact speaking Greek.

  He had studied classical Greek when he was at Oxford and he hoped somewhat forlornly that it might help him to understand modern spoken Greek.

  There was no one else in the cabin and as if the Ambassador read his thoughts, he said,

  “Her Royal Highness insisted on going on deck to see the ship moving out of dock. I thought that we should wait here for your arrival, but perhaps now you would like to join her.”

  Lord Victor thought that there was no hurry.

  When the Ambassador offered him a drink, he accepted it and, as he did so, he remarked,

  “I have only just realised that I did not ask the Marquis of Salisbury what language you speak in Zararis, but I think that the gentleman you have just introduced me to was speaking Greek.”

  The Ambassador smiled.

  “They have obviously not told you the history of our country, my Lord.”

  “I should be interested to hear it,” Lord Victor said politely.

  “Two centuries ago a number of Greeks were so dissatisfied with the rule of the Turks in Greece that they left and made a new home in Zararis, which was then an almost uninhabited region.”

  Lord Victor was listening, but not with any enthusiasm.

  “Over the years,” the Ambassador went on, “we have assimilated some of the languages of the adjoining countries with the exception of Turkey. But if, my Lord, you can speak Greek, you will soon understand Zararian, even though it may seem a little strange at first.”

  “That is certainly good news,” Lord Victor sighed. “I have no wish to miss anything on what I am sure will be a most interesting visit and I would very much like to speak to people in their own language.”

  He was thinking as he spoke that he was fluent in French especially when he was making love and he could also make himself understood in Italy and Spain.

  One language he abominated was German and it was a relief to learn that it at least would not be a problem in Zararis.

  He was thinking however that, after what the Prime Minister had said to him, if he had any sense or the time, he should have learnt a little Russian.

  “What we must do while we are aboard ship,” the Ambassador was saying, “is to talk to each other occasionally in Greek. I am sure, my Lord, that if you once learned our ancient and very beautiful language, you will soon pick it up again.”

  “I think that is an excellent idea,” Lord Victor agreed.

  As he spoke, he heard the engines, which had been turning over quietly, accelerate.

  The ship began to move faster.

  “I think,” he said to the Ambassador, “it would be interesting if we went up on the bridge and watched the ship move down the river.”

  “But certainly, my Lord, if that is what you would like,” the Ambassador concurred.

  They left the cabin and went up the companionway onto the deck.

  Seamen were hurrying about as they walked towards the bridge and, even before they actually stepped onto it, Lord Victor could hear a woman’s voice.

  She was talking excitedly and then he saw to his astonishment a head of golden hair shining in the sunshine.

  He had been so certain that with Greek blood in her the Princess would be dark, as her father must have been.

  For a moment he thought that he must have been mistaken and this could not be the Princess.

  Perhaps there was another young woman aboard.

  Then the Ambassador came forward to say,

  “Allow me, Your Royal Highness, to present Lord Victor Brooke, who on Her Majesty Queen Victoria’s instructions is accompanying us on the journey to Zararis.”

  As he was speaking, the golden head turned round and Lord Victor found himself looking at Princess Sydella.

  She was without exception the most beautiful young woman he had ever seen.

  CHAPTER THREE

  For a moment, the Princess and Lord Victor just stared at each other.

  Then she said as though it burst from her lips,

  “Oh, but you are young!”

  Even as she spoke, the Princess realised what she had said and put her fingers to her mouth.

  Lord Victor glanced to see where the Ambassador was and to his relief the Captain was showing him a chart.

  He looked at the Princess who was smiling.

  “I am sorry,” she whispered, “but it was such a surprise to see you.”

  “And I am equally surprised on seeing Your Royal Highness,” Lord Victor replied.

  He realised that she was amused and she must have guessed that he had been expecting somebody very different.

  Her appearance was certainly unpredictable in that she was small and very slim.

  Her heart-shaped face seemed to be overwhelmed by the size of her eyes.

  Lord Victor had seen a great deal of Greek sculpture and he knew at once that the Princess had the features of a Greek Goddess.

  But surprisingly her hair was fair with traces of gold that was very English.

  And it complemented her skin, which was dazzlingly white.

  Lord Victor thought to himself that she combined her Greek and English ancestry very cleverly.

  As soon as she was over her surprise at seeing him, she was talking away excitedly about the voyage and to her it was obviously an adventure that she had never expected.

  She was thrilled with the ship, with the sea and the journey that lay ahead.

  It was impossible, Lord Victor found, not to become caught up in what was to her a dream come true.

  “I have always wanted to go to sea,” she confided in him, “but I never thought it would be in a Battleship!”

  She gave a little laugh before she added i
n a low voice,

  “Or that I should be so important!”

  They stayed on the bridge until the Ambassador suggested that there would be coffee waiting for them below.

  As it was obviously something he wanted himself, the Princess agreed that they should leave the bridge.

  When they reached the Captain’s day cabin, the two Ladies-in-Waiting rose as the Princess entered and curtseyed to her.

  “You should have come up on deck,” she told them. “It is so lovely up there and very exciting to see the ship moving down the river and into the sea.”

  The two Baronesses shivered and Lord Victor asked,

  “Did you have a good voyage on the way here?”

  “Not very good,” one of the Baronesses replied. “In fact it was very rough in the Bay of Biscay and we had to stay in our cabins.”

  “Well, I hope it will be smoother this time,” Lord Victor said politely.

  He drank the coffee, but refused the biscuits that were served with it.

  Then the Princess said eagerly,

  “Now can we go back on deck? I don’t want to miss anything when we are sailing down the Thames to the English Channel.”

  The two Baronesses looked at each other in dismay and Lord Victor said quickly,

  “I will look after you, ma’am. I feel that these ladies might find it difficult to walk as there is already quite a swell.”

  “Then, of course, you must stay here,” the Princess said to the two elderly women.

  It was difficult for Lord Victor not to laugh at the relief on their faces.

  The Princess turned towards the door and the Ambassador said to him,

  “I feel, my Lord, that you can manage without me. I have some rather important letters to write.”

  “Yes, of course,” Lord Victor replied.

  As he joined the Princess on the companionway, she exclaimed,

  “Now we are free of the ‘watchdogs’, we can enjoy ourselves!”

  “Is that your name for them, ma’am?” Lord Victor enquired.

  She smiled and he realised that she had a dimple on either side of her mouth.

  It made her face even more fascinating than it was when she was serious.