The Protection of Love Read online

  Richard had not thought of this, but he answered her,

  “I think that is very unlikely. What you will have to do is to make sure that, whatever the Princess does, you do it with her.”

  When the carriage was outside and Meta was just about to kiss him goodbye, Richard smiled,

  “I have another idea.”

  What is it?” she asked rather anxiously.

  ‘That you go into Leicester and buy yourself some new travelling clothes to wear if you go to London. Also some evening gowns if you dine with the Prince.”

  Meta raised her eyebrows, but before she could speak her brother went on,

  “It is important that you should be with him as much as possible and therefore you must look smart. When you go to London, it will be easy to buy some really fantastic gowns in Bond Street.”

  Meta could not help feeling that this would be very exciting but expensive.

  At the same time she worried in case something should go wrong and they had spent the money unnecessarily.

  She had been aware after her mother had died that the estate cost a great deal of money.

  Even though they had reduced the staff in the house, they were still living beyond their income.

  She could understand that Richard was delighted to have a very large rent and she was determined, if it was possible, to employ more men in the Home Farm.

  They should have crops to sell, which they had not had in the last few years.

  When Richard had driven away, she was thinking that sheep and cattle might provide an excellent addition to the estate if they could afford the original stock.

  Her father had always talked to her about everything he did and she had spent so much time with him that she knew a great deal about country life as well as many foreign countries and the languages spoken in them.

  When she waved a fond goodbye to Richard, she had the feeling that she must get busy immediately.

  Although he did not seem to realise it, there was an enormous amount for her to do.

  First of all she had to explain to Bell and Mrs. Bell that Sir Richard had let the house to an important gentleman who was very rich.

  “He will expect,” she said, “things to be done exactly as they were when my father and mother were entertaining almost every night and that means, Mrs. Bell, that you must tell me how many extra people you will want to help you in the kitchen.”

  “Help me in the kitchen!” Mrs. Bell exclaimed. “That’ll be a change and one which be very much for the better.”

  “I thought you would say that,” Meta said smiling. “And, although it may be difficult to have strangers in the house, it will help Sir Richard enormously.”

  She just knew that this would make Mrs. Bell do her best for the Russian visitors.

  She then began to work out on her fingers how many additional staff she would want in the kitchen.

  Meta remembered that her father and mother had always employed four footmen.

  She told Bell to go to the village and to engage the best of the young men he could find there.

  “They be a bit rough, Miss Meta,” he told her.

  “I think it is important that we should employ local labour,” Meta said in a grand voice, “because they have felt rather neglected since we cut down the staff and, of course, they need money the same as we do.”

  Bell accepted this and he said he would go to the village at once and Mrs. Bell said that she would go with him.

  “You had better take the pony cart,” Meta said. “It is too far for you to walk and it takes too much time.”

  Mrs. Bell looked at her apprehensively.

  “When’ll the Russian gentleman be arrivin’?” she enquired.

  “I am not certain,” Meta replied. “Sir Richard is seeing him this morning and he might want to come down here immediately.”

  Both Bell and Mrs. Bell made an exclamation of horror at the idea.

  Meta left them and went to find the only housemaid they had.

  It seemed ridiculous to have several housemaids to make one bed and brush and dust the two rooms she used downstairs.

  Now Meta recalled that in the past there had been a housekeeper and four housemaids under her. It seemed a large number and again she was worrying over the expense.

  Then she told herself, ‘in for a penny, in for a pound.’

  The most important thing was that the Prince should be comfortable in the house and well looked after

  Her father had been to Russia in the old days when he was a Diplomat and then he had described to her the enormous Palaces that the Russians owned and their wild extravagance.

  Sir Philip had described one party that he had been to. The host had sent to France for the best Sèvres china for his guests to eat off.

  Everyone had admired it and then after dinner they had thrown the plates up into the air and the men had treated them like clay pigeons, shooting them down before they reached the ceiling.

  Meta had been shocked.

  “How could they do anything so stupid, Papa, when Sèvres china is so beautiful?”

  “They thought only of their own amusement and pleasure,” Sir Philip replied.

  He described another party, where furniture, pictures and china had all been thrown into a bonfire in a courtyard. This was so that the guests could dance round it and find it romantic.

  Meta only hoped that Prince Alexis was not thinking of holding parties of that sort at The Manor!

  She knew that, if he did, she would find herself being very rude to him.

  That would most certainly terminate his being their tenant for any length of time.

  ‘I wish, I wish they were not coming,’ she told herself several times during the morning.

  Then, after a quick luncheon Forster drove her into Leicester where there was one shop that her mother had patronised.

  It prided itself on having the very smartest and best clothes from London.

  The woman who kept it was in fact French and had married an Englishman.

  Because many distinguished people would come to Leicestershire in the winter to hunt, the shop, although expensive, had always done well.

  It was patronised by a great number of the richer ladies in the County and Lady Lindley had usually bought two gowns from there each year, both of them for the evening.

  One she wore at the Hunt Ball and the other at the very large evening Reception that was given by the Lord Lieutenant.

  The gowns were still hanging up in a wardrobe in her bedroom.

  When Meta looked at them, she realised that they were all too elaborate for a young girl, and certainly not suitable for the part of the innocent little debutante that Richard required her to be.

  Forster drove the carriage, drawn by two horses, very expertly and as it was a sunny day Meta had ordered the hood to be down so that she could look at the countryside as they were passing through it.

  She thought, because she had hunted over it with her father, she knew practically every hedge. She knew where the fields were that gave them a long straight run, also those that had dangerous ditches or streams where one least expected them.

  ‘I shall have to warn the Prince about these,’ she thought to herself.

  Then she wondered if he would condescend to let her accompany him when he went out riding.

  Madame Rosa, as the French owner called herself, was surprised, but at the same time delighted to see Meta.

  “I often think of Madame, your dear mother.” she said. “How charming she was and how beautiful she looked in my gowns.”

  “I have come to ask you,” Meta began, “to find one for me.”

  “You are going to be married?” Madame Rosa enquired.

  Meta smiled.

  “No! My brother talks of taking me to London. I have nothing to wear to travel in and he also suggests that I should have two or three evening gowns to wear when I do go there.”

  Madame Rosa was delighted.

  Because she had been fond
of Lady Lindley, who had sent her quite a few customers, she took a great deal of trouble in finding the gowns which she reckoned would suit Meta and her figure.

  She was clever enough not to suggest anything which was not very simple and she knew because Meta was a debutante that they should be mostly white.

  She found one gown that Meta thought was really lovely.

  It was of a soft material trimmed with a lace that might have been made by Fairy fingers.

  There was another, which also suited her but in Madame’s opinion was over-decorated.

  She therefore took away the decorations and replaced them with small musk roses.

  “That is very clever of you,” Meta exclaimed. “I am sure that my brother will approve.”

  “You will be the belle of every ball you go to,” Madame Rosa prophesied.

  The travelling gown was again simple and had a small matching jacket.

  All the gowns still had a slight bustle and on a young girl they were mostly nothing more than a large bow.

  There was a hat that completed the ensemble.

  When Meta had fitted it all, she thought that, if Richard was not satisfied, she would be very surprised.

  “Vous êtes très belle, mademoiselle,” Madame Rosa said and then added in French too, “there will not be a gentleman in London who will not tell you so.”

  Meta laughed at this.

  Equally she hoped that she would impress the Prince, which was what Richard wanted.

  There were several other necessary purchases to be made in Leicester and then, when she drove home, the seat opposite her in the carriage was filled with parcels and dress boxes.

  Some of the things she had bought had to be collected the next day.

  She thought, however, that if the Prince came down the chimney that night, she would be ready for him.

  When Meta was back home, it was to find that Bell and Mrs. Bell had much to tell her.

  Mrs. Bell had found two sensible women who were only too delighted to come and help her in the kitchen.

  She had also engaged a scullion who was a young boy she thought seemed intelligent.

  Bell had already three men as footmen and was waiting until the following day to find a fourth.

  “They don’t know much. Miss Meta,” he said, “but they’ll do as I tells them and that be half the battle.”

  “I am sure you will soon have them looking and behaving as smart as those we had when Papa was alive,” Meta commented.

  “I hope so,” Bell replied. “But it ain’t so easy to find the right sort now as it used to be.”

  Meta thought that she had heard this complaint from many people before.

  She was quite certain it was not because the men and women were not now up to scratch, but that the older servants expected more than they had in the past.

  Anyway it delighted the Bells at having things, as they said, ‘as them ought to be’.

  The three housemaids upstairs made The Manor seem to be full almost to overflowing.

  At Meta’s instructions the housemaids started cleaning and polishing every room and there was no doubt that there was a great deal for them to do.

  She hung her new clothes up in her wardrobe.

  Then she looked to see what else she had to wear just in case the Prince did not want to stay in London as long as Richard thought that he might.

  Having put away most of her coloured clothes when first her father had died and then her mother, she now reversed the process.

  She packed all her mourning clothes into empty cupboards in the attic.

  She then looked for the coloured dresses and gowns which she had worn when she was younger.

  Most of them, she decided, were quite unwearable now.

  Some of them, however, were quite suitable for her role as a young girl who lived in the country.

  ‘Being a foreigner the Prince is very sure to think that I am a country bumpkin with no brains,’ Meta told herself. ‘So I might as well look the part!’

  She was in fact now wearing a very simple gown of a soft white material with just small touches of green in it.

  It reminded Meta of the trees outside and she thought to herself it was very appropriate for a spring day when the daffodils were like splashes of gold in the Park.

  She was picking some flowers to arrange them as she always had done in the drawing room and in a large bowl in the hall when she heard a carriage coming up the drive.

  As she was in the back of the house, she hurried in through the garden door.

  Then she ran down the passage that led to the hall.

  She reached it just as one of the new footmen, smartly dressed in his livery, opened the front door.

  To her delight, Meta saw Richard stepping out of the carriage.

  Then she drew in her breath when she realised that he was not alone.

  He turned round to help out a young girl who was followed by a man.

  Instinctively Meta put up her hands to tidy up her hair, hoping that she looked as Richard would expect.

  At the same time she thought it extremely annoying of him not to let her know what time he was arriving.

  Richard and the young girl, who was obviously the Princess, walked up the steps.

  As they did so, Meta moved forward.

  She had not thought to put down the flowers that she had been picking and she therefore made a perfect picture in the Great Hall with its oak panelling, its family portraits, and marble fireplace.

  Standing alone in the centre of it, she looked like a flower herself.

  Her brother gave her an approving glance before he said,

  “I am so sorry, Meta, I could not let you know we were arriving, but His Highness was so eager to come to the country.”

  “It is lovely to see you,” Meta managed to say as he kissed her.

  Richard turned to the girl beside him.

  “May I, Your Highness,” he said, “introduce you to my sister, Meta?”

  The Princess was very pretty.

  She had dark hair, which proclaimed her Russian blood and at the same time her eyes were blue and she must have inherited them from her mother.

  Meta curtseyed and the Princess said,

  “It is – very nice to – meet you.”

  She spoke somewhat hesitantly and it was obvious that she had to think carefully about her English words.

  Richard turned towards the man behind him.

  “May I present to Your Highness, my sister, Meta.”

  Meta looked up at the Prince.

  He was, as she expected, tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair and clear-cut features.

  ‘He might almost,’ she reflected, ‘have posed for a portrait of what everyone expects a Russian Prince to look like.’

  She gave him a low curtsey.

  “I am not only delighted to meet you, Miss Lindley,” he said, “but very grateful that your brother is allowing me to stay in your beautiful house.”

  “I hope Your Highness will be as happy as we have been,” Meta answered. “Of course, as I expect my brother has told you, the hunting here is the best in the whole of England.”

  “He certainly made me well aware of that,” the Prince replied with a smile.

  There was just a touch of amusement in his voice and so it made Meta feel that perhaps Richard had overdone it.

  “Would Your Highness like to go into the drawing room?” Meta asked the Princess. “Or would you rather go upstairs and take off your hat and cloak?”

  The Princess said that was what she would much prefer so Meta took her upstairs to her bedroom, leaving Richard to look after the Prince.

  As soon as they were out of hearing of the men, the Princess said in French,

  “I know you are going to teach me English, but there are so many other things I want to talk to you about that it is easier for me to say it in French.”

  “I can speak French too,” Meta replied. “But I have promised to teach you English and I am sure that
you will not find it too difficult.”

  “It slows me up,” the Princess complained. “Now I want to talk about this house and you and what we will do every day.”

  She spoke very quickly.

  All the time that she was taking off her hat and arranging her hair she chattered away as if she had known Meta for years.

  She was certainly not shy and, after asking a number of questions, she said,

  “It is very exciting for me to come to England. I was so afraid that we might be stopped at the last moment.”

  “Stopped!” Meta exclaimed. “By whom?”

  There was a silence as if the Princess knew that she had said something that she should not have done.

  Then she exclaimed,

  “I am ready now. Shall we go downstairs? I am hoping I shall be offered an English tea.”

  “As it is four o’clock,” Meta replied, “I am sure that the servants will be bringing it into the drawing room.”

  “Good!” the Princess smiled a thin smile. “That is exactly what I want.”

  “You do not have tea in Russia?” Meta enquired.

  “We did when my mother was alive,” the Princess answered, “because she was English. The Royal Russians do everything the French way, so there was no tea, but because I am greedy I missed it.”

  “I am sure that you will enjoy what our cook has made for you here,” Meta said.

  She thought, as she spoke, that Mrs. Bell would be in a panic.

  She had not expected the Prince and his sister to arrive so unexpectedly early.

  Then Meta remembered that Mrs. Bell now had plenty of help and she was quite sure if tea was a little scanty there would be time for her to prepare an excellent dinner, especially if she was cooking for Richard.

  They went downstairs and found the two men waiting for them in the drawing room.

  As Meta walked towards them with the Princess, she became aware that the Prince was watching her.

  It gave her a rather uneasy feeling and in fact she did feel a little unnerved and wondered what he was thinking.

  Richard, however, appeared quite at ease.

  He was telling the Prince how old the house was and describing the history behind many of its contents.

  “My family has lived here for more than five hundred years,” he said, “and, as you can imagine, they have all collected something to add to our possessions so now we really need a bigger house.”