The Power and the Prince Read online

  The tears were now back in her eyes and running down her cheeks.

  “Oh, Shane – save me – save me!”

  Because she sounded so piteous, Shane knelt down beside the chair to hold her in his arms.

  It was the Viscount who heard the footman’s rather heavy tread outside the door.

  “Look out,” he said sharply in a low voice.

  As Shane rose hastily to his feet, Charlotte turned her face quickly towards the fireplace so that the servant would not see her tears.

  The Viscount rose to take a tray containing two glasses and a large jug of cider from the footman.

  “Thank you, James,” he nodded, “that will be all.”

  He put the tray down on the table, shoving aside a number of things that were in the way to make a place for it and then poured out the cider.

  As the door closed behind the footman, he said,

  “You must be careful. If the servants report to Mama that you were crying in Shane’s arms, he would be sent back to Ireland on the next boat.”

  “I will – try to be careful,” Charlotte answered, “but if I have to marry this horrible – beastly man whom Aunt Odele has chosen for me – I swear I will kill myself!”

  “You are not to talk like that, darling,” Shane insisted in a low voice.

  He took Charlotte’s hand in his as he spoke, and she clung to it as if it was a lifeline that would save her from drowning.

  “Who is the man?” the Viscount asked.

  For a moment it seemed as if Charlotte was incapable of answering.

  Then at length, with her eyes on Shane, and in a voice that her brother could barely hear, she said,

  “Prince Ivan Katinouski!”

  For a moment both the Viscount and Shane seemed frozen into immobility.

  Then her brother managed to say,

  “I don’t believe it! It’s impossible! It must be a joke!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “It is not a joke,” Charlotte retorted fiercely. “Mama – read me the letter – then somebody called to see her and I – snatched it up from her – writing table.”

  As she spoke, she fumbled in her sash and drew out a letter that was rather creased.

  She looked down at it and said brokenly,

  “I – cannot see, you – read it,” and held it out to her brother.

  She then turned her tear-stained face towards Shane.

  The Viscount took it from her and looked down at the impressive crest on the thick white paper.

  Then he read aloud,

  “My Dearest Margaret,

  I have the most exciting news for you, which seems incredible, but I feel that when you hear what it is you will thank God for such a wonderful opportunity for dear little Charlotte.

  I am staying here with Prince Ivan Katinouski and he has told me that his wife, the Princess, who has been mad for the last twelve years, has now died. Because I am such an old friend, he has asked me to help him choose a wife.

  As you will know, he is one of the richest men in Europe, if not the world, and he is admired and liked everywhere he goes.

  He could, of course, marry anybody, but he wants someone young and unspoilt, in his own words ‘pure and innocent’, who comes from a noble family and who will be not only the chatelaine of his many magnificent houses but also the mother of the children that he has never been able to have.

  I am well aware, dear Margaret, that George does not care for foreigners, but Prince Ivan is exceptional in that his mother was a Warminster and nobody can say that the Warminsters are anything but the most English of the English!

  I know that Charlotte, having been in mourning for your dear mother, has seen nothing of the world, but that is what Prince Ivan would wish. And I therefore am arranging on his behalf a house party on the eighteenth, here at Charl Castle, where he and Charlotte can get to know each other.

  I am making it a young party as you know how zealous in pursuing him all the ambitious mothers of young girls will be when they learn that the Prince is now eligible.

  I therefore think it best for me to chaperone Charlotte and for you to send her to me with Richard and, if he wishes to come, his inseparable friend Shane O’Derry.

  I know it is somewhat short notice, but I am sure you will agree that this is Charlotte’s chance to make a really brilliant marriage and it would be a mistake to have the Prince’s interests diverted elsewhere.

  I am so excited at the prospect of my niece living here at Charl Castle and at all the other fantastic houses the Prince owns and I will let you know the time that she and Richard should arrive, as soon as I know myself.

  I remain, dear Margaret,

  Your affectionate sister-in-law,

  Odele.”

  The Viscount read the letter aloud with an unmistakable note of surprise in his voice and, as he finished reading, he said angrily,

  “It is the most impertinent, outrageous thing I have ever heard! How dare the Prince, and Aunt Odele for that matter, treat Charlotte as if she was a piece of merchandise to be bought over the counter.”

  “That is naturally what I think too,” Shane echoed in a low voice.

  Charlotte made a cry like that of a small animal caught in a trap.

  “It’s – horrible! Wicked!” she sobbed. “But I just knew – when Mama – read me the letter that she was – delighted.”

  “Perhaps your father – ” Shane began hesitatingly.

  “There is no hope there,” the Viscount interrupted. “I feel sure Papa does not like the Prince as a man, but he is terribly impressed by his horses. Who would not be?”

  “I will not – marry him – and nothing will – make me!” Charlotte cried.

  Her brother and Shane O’Derry did not speak. They looked at each other and they were both thinking that Charlotte would have little choice in the matter.

  She was only just eighteen, so her parents could force her to marry anybody they wished and there would be no appeal against their decision.

  “What can we do?” Shane asked and his voice seemed strangled in his throat.

  “It’s intolerable!” the Viscount declared, throwing down the letter and getting up to walk across the room and back again.

  “Your aunt seems to think that he might become interested in somebody else if you don’t act speedily,” Shane said hesitatingly. “Suppose Charlotte was ill and then could not stay at Charl Castle on the eighteenth?”

  “Aunt Odele will not let her off the hook so easily,” the Viscount replied bitterly. “And her behaviour is all the more surprising in this matter when you and I both know that she and the Prince – ”

  He stopped suddenly as if he realised he was being indiscreet.

  Charlotte raised her head from Shane’s shoulder to ask,

  “What about Aunt Odele and the Prince?”

  “They are – old friends, she says so in the letter,” her brother said hastily.

  “You mean – something more than that – do you not?”

  There was silence and then Charlotte asked,

  “Can their – relationship be the – same as that of the Prince of Wales and the beautiful – Mrs. Langtry?”

  She looked from her brother to Shane and then added,

  “B-but Aunt Odele is quite – old!”

  “Their relationship has nothing to do with your marrying the Prince,” the Viscount said testily.

  “It has!” Charlotte objected. “If she is – in love with him and he with her, how can I be – made to – marry him? It is wicked, as I said – really wicked!”

  Nobody spoke for a moment.

  Then the Viscount said furiously,

  “Charlotte is right, it is wicked. We should do something about it.”

  “What can we do,” Shane asked helplessly, “except provide him with someone he might prefer to Charlotte?”

  “It’s not even a case of preferring. He demands someone pure, innocent and noble. I am surprised that he has not asked for the goods he
requires to be marked down at half-price!”

  The Viscount spoke angrily as he walked to the window and opened it to draw in some fresh air.

  Then, with his back to Shane and Charlotte, he said,

  “What I would like to do is pay him back by making him look a fool, but God knows how we could ever do that.”

  “Perhaps Wilbram could help us,” Shane suggested.

  “Wilbram?” the Viscount asked, walking back from the window to the fireplace.

  “How could he help?”

  Then, before Shane could answer, he exclaimed,

  “I know what you are thinking of, that bet he won.”

  “What – bet?” Charlotte enquired, looking helplessly at her brother.

  Her eyes were still full of tears and she looked so pathetic that Shane sat down beside her in the big armchair to hold her even closer in his arms.

  “He is a friend of ours,” Shane explained, “and he was so annoyed with the Marchioness of Carlisle, who he said was a snob, that he got a woman invited to one of her parties and passed her off as the Grand Duchess of Melkinstein, or some such place, whereas in reality she was nothing but – ”

  The Viscount coughed warningly and Shane changed what he had been about to say to ‘a ballet dancer’.

  “And everybody was taken in?” Charlotte asked.

  “They were, but, of course, Wilbram and his friends dressed her to look the part.”

  Charlotte looked appealingly at her brother.

  “Could we not do – something like that?”

  “We would never get away with it,” the Viscount answered. “There is no one with more experience of women than the Prince.”

  “We could if we found the right girl for the part,” Shane proposed, “and the Prince liked her more than Charlotte.”

  “I could make myself look ugly,” Charlotte said eagerly, “and be rude and disagreeable so that he would tell Aunt Odele he had no wish to marry me.”

  Again the two men’s eyes met.

  “I am sure that Aunt Odele has thought this up and the Prince will marry whomever she chooses,” the Viscount said after a moment.

  “But we could – try,” Charlotte said desperately, “please – let’s – try.”

  The Viscount was watching his sister and he reflected for the first time in his life that arranged marriages were sheer undiluted cruelty.

  He had never thought of it seriously before, taking it as a matter of course that noble families should marry into noble families because it was in their best interests.

  But he had never thought that anyone as inexperienced and childish as Charlotte could be married to somebody as sophisticated as the Prince and he knew that marriage for her, especially as she was in love with Shane, would be a misery beyond words.

  As a sportsman, he admired the Prince, as did all his friends and they followed his prowess on the turf with the greatest interest.

  He had, of course, from time to time met him casually at parties and had seen him in White’s Club where he had recently been elected a member.

  But, although the Prince moved in a very much higher stratum of Society than anything that he and Shane aspired to, he was well aware of the gossip about the handsome Russian.

  In fact he had not been particularly surprised when he learnt that his latest inamorata was none other than his Aunt Odele herself.

  The Storrs as a family did not approve of Lady Odele, her publicity horrified them and they thought it vulgar that photographs of her could be bought in the stationery shops.

  Yet, despite the fact that they had a great many criticisms to make privately about her behaviour, as long as Lady Odele was persona grata at Marlborough House and both the Prince of Wales and the Princess admitted her to their friendship, there was really nothing they could do about it.

  But what his aunt did, the Viscount thought, was a very different thing from involving his sister with a man who he was quite certain would make an extremely unsuitable husband and who she would be desperately unhappy with.

  Besides he had always believed that somehow eventually Charlotte would marry Shane and they would all three continue to be happy together as they had been ever since they were children.

  Every instinct in the Viscount’s mind told him that he must do something to save his sister.

  The difficulty was what it could be.

  “If Wilbram got away with it, I don’t see why we should not,” Shane was saying, not very optimistically.

  “Wilbram only had to find a woman to act a part for Carlisle for one evening,” the Viscount replied, “and a party at Carlisle House is rather different from one at Charl Castle.”

  As if he refused to accept defeat, Shane turned to Charlotte,

  “Think of your friends, dearest. What about that pretty girl who stayed here a fortnight ago?”

  “Alice Bracknell?” Charlotte asked. “But she is so stupid. I don’t believe that any man would be interested in her for more than five minutes. Besides her mother has already determined that she shall marry Lord Dare.”

  “That reminds me,” the Viscount chipped in, “when I was in Church about a month ago I saw the prettiest girl I have ever seen in my life. I meant to ask you who she was, but it slipped my mind.”

  “What were you doing in Church?” Shane queried.

  “It was when you were in Ireland,” he explained, “and it was my father and mother’s twenty-fifth Wedding Anniversary.”

  “Then, of course, you had to go,” Shane replied. “Now what about this girl?”

  “I know who you mean,” Charlotte exclaimed. “It was Alana. She is very pretty.”

  “She had a mass of children with her,” the Viscount added.

  “They are the Vicar’s children. Alana is helping Mrs. Bredon to look after them.”

  “Is she really lovely?” Shane asked.

  “I thought her absolutely beautiful,” the Viscount replied. “She took my mind off the Vicar’s sermon, which went on for far too long, so that Papa was fidgeting about and pulling out his watch long before the end.”

  “We were talking about a girl,” Shane persisted, as if he wanted to keep to the point.

  “You are not suggesting – ” the Viscount began.

  “Why not?” Shane asked. “I would suggest anything and snatch at any straw if it would save Charlotte.”

  “I want to – marry you, Shane,” Charlotte wailed. “You promised we would be married eventually even if we – had to – wait.”

  “I know, dearest, but if I went to your father now, I hardly think he would listen to me.”

  “You need not waste your breath,” the Viscount interposed. “Papa may not like Prince Ivan, because he hates all foreigners, but if Mama and Aunt Odele think it a good marriage, anything he has to say on the matter will be swept to one side and Charlotte will be pushed up the aisle as quickly as her feet can carry her!”

  Charlotte put her hand up to her eyes and started to cry again.

  “Dammit, we have to do something!” he went on. “Do you suppose we could get this girl to help us? Bribe her into taking the Prince’s attention away from Charlotte?”

  His sister had stopped crying and was gazing at him with widening eyes.

  “Are you really suggesting that we might take – Alana with us to – Charl?”

  “Not as herself,” the Viscount said. “Supposing we pretended that she was someone smart and noble. That would please the Prince and it might take his mind off you at least for a little while.”

  “The only alternative,” Shane said, “would be for us to run away now at once.”

  “Papa would come after you.”

  “He might not find us and then what could he do about it?”

  There was a poignant silence while the Viscount looked at his friend and saw the expression of despair in his eyes.

  “If only this had not happened so quickly,” Charlotte said. “You know when I am twenty-one I come into the money my Godmother left me.�
�

  “I had forgotten about that,” her brother replied. “How much is it?”

  “I think it is only about two hundred or three hundred pounds a year, but Papa said something about it accumulating and that it would be more by the time I came of age.”

  “We have discussed this,” Shane said apologetically, “and I know my father would give us a house on the estate. I could breed horses or something. We would be able to manage.”

  “Of course we would,” Charlotte agreed. “And we would be so happy, so very – very happy.”

  She looked up into Shane's eyes as she spoke and for a moment they forgot everything but themselves.

  “There is no chance of you waiting until Charlotte is twenty-one,” the Viscount commented sharply. “It’s a question of acting now if we are to get her away from the Prince.”

  Charlotte looked at her brother and asked,

  “Are you really – thinking of – Alana?”

  “Tell me about her. She is certainly very pretty.”

  “She is lovely and very sweet.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “She is Mr. Wickham’s daughter.”

  “Wickham?”

  “My music teacher. You must have met him. He came here three times a week for years.”

  “Of course, I remember now. A tall, rather good-looking man.”

  “I always thought him very handsome,” Charlotte admitted, “and absolutely charming. Of course Mama treated him as she treated all my teachers, as if he was dirt beneath her feet, but actually he was a gentleman, although she would not have thought so.”

  “How do you know?” the Viscount asked.

  “He told me once that his family were well known in the North and his father had been a famous conductor.”

  Her brother gave a short laugh.

  “Mama would not think that qualified him as a gentleman.”

  “I know,” Charlotte agreed, “but he was and I loved my music lessons with him, although I shall never be able to play as well as him or Alana.”

  “So that is how you met her.”

  “She came here first because Mr. Wickham and I played duets together on our violins and Alana accompanied us on the piano. She could play the violin too. I would have liked to have her as a friend, but, of course, Mama would not have heard of such a thing.”