Princes and Princesses

by Cartland, Barbara

  No one was in the least surprised, because Friederich with his bloated face and his reputation for hard drinking had created an impression that he was not a man who would live very long.

  “Poor devil! If he dies, it is the best thing that could happen to him,” King Edward remarked to Lord Arkley in private.

  “I agree with you, sir. I think few of us would wish to live in such circumstances.”

  Then the Marquis da Soveral interrupted their conversation with an amusing anecdote and the subject of Prince Friederich was swept away by laughter.

  As soon as they returned from the Kreuzbrunnen, Lord Arkley called on the Duchesse.

  “You are very early, my Lord,” she said holding out her hand, “and I fancy that you have come to discuss the serious illness of Prince Friederich, which I have just learnt about from my servants.”

  “I have indeed, ma’am,” Lord Arkley replied raising her hand to his lips, “and I am very worried about the Princess.”

  “I thought you might be,” the Duchesse replied, “but quite frankly I believe that my prayers will be answered.”

  Her shrewd old eyes met Lord Arkley’s in an expression of mutual understanding.

  “What I have come to ask you,” Lord Arkley said, “is if you will help the Princess as you are aware I cannot do.”

  “I have already arranged to do so as soon as Mariska will receive me,” the Duchesse answered, “and you know as well as I do, Lord Arkley, that the one person who must keep away from her is yourself.”

  “I realise that.”

  “Leave everything to me,” the Duchesse said, “but come and see me this evening and I will tell you what I know you will be longing to hear.”

  It was from the Duchesse that Lord Arkley learnt that Mariska would undoubtedly have had a nervous breakdown from the way that she had been treated had not her love for him sustained and strengthened her.

  “She told me to tell you,” the Duchesse said, “that she is thinking of the mist on the lake and that you would understand.”

  “I do understand,” Lord Arkley murmured in a low voice.

  “She looks so ill and – so frail,” the Duchesse said with a little break on the words. “I am afraid, desperately afraid, that it will all be too much for her.”

  “Will you take her a message from me?” Lord Arkley asked.

  “You know I will.”

  “Then please tell Mariska that I shall be waiting beyond the mist.”

  The Duchesse faithfully conveyed his message and she knew when she saw the light in Mariska’s eyes and the faint smile on her lips that her fears were unnecessary.

  Nevertheless, when three days later the train with a carriage draped in crêpe carried Prince Friederich’s body back to Wilzenstein, Mariska was only with difficulty and against her doctor’s advice able to travel on it.

  Lord Arkley read in the German papers of the long-drawn-out Funeral Service that was arranged in Wilzenstein for their dead Ruler.

  Prince Friederich was buried with all the pomp and grandeur that he himself would have enjoyed.

  Most countries in Europe were represented and, although the Kaiser was unable to be present, he sent Baron von Echardstein and Admiral von Senden as his representatives.

  Lord Arkley thought it a cynical gesture that only somebody like the Kaiser would have thought appropriate.

  It was impossible, once she had left Marienbad, for him to have intimate news of Mariska and the one thing he knew that he must not do was to communicate with her while she was in Germany.

  He therefore had to wait until all the ceremonial of mourning and tributes to Friederich had come to an end and she could leave the Palace and return home to Hungary.

  He was, however, made almost frantic by his own helplessness when he learnt that she had collapsed when the actual Funeral was over and was again in the care of the doctors.

  If he had obeyed the impulse of an ordinary man in love, he would have damned convention and gone to Wilzenstein to see her.

  But his Diplomatic training and stern self-control served him in good stead.

  For several weeks he had very little sleep, but, when he finally learnt that Mariska was well enough to return to Hungary, he felt as if a great burden had fallen from his shoulders.

  And yet still some innate sensitivity within himself and a feeling of ordinary decency made him decide not to write to her.

  He recognised that it was wrong to do anything that might make Mariska’s immediate family suspicious that she had thoughts for any man other than her husband.

  Instead he arranged with the Duchesse that she should send Mariska flowers every month.

  He dared not even include a message with them, but he knew that words were unimportant between them and she would understand that he was thinking of her.

  Because he was aware that many months lay ahead before it would be possible for them to meet each other, Lord Arkley threw himself into his work with an urgency and a devotion that astonished all the women he had known previously.

  The great hostesses, who found their invitations refused one after another, thought that he must be indulging in a new love affair.

  When they found that Lord Arkley was seldom seen alone with any woman and if he was she was usually somebody very much older than himself, they were at first astonished and then slightly resentful.

  “What can have happened to Ian Arkley?” they asked amongst themselves. “He used to be so amusing and such fun, but now he only thinks of work and he laughs only when he is with the King.”

  King Edward was, however, very gratified at the amount of attention Lord Arkley was able to accord him.

  Relations between England and Germany were only kept on a friendly basis by continual efforts on the part of ‘Uncle Bertie’. In fact it was now the French who were growing uneasy that there might be an Anglo-German Entente.

  Before the King could enjoy his usual holiday to Marienbad, he arranged to visit Germany and the French were quite hysterical at the thought of what might happen.

  Fortunately, however, Lord Arkley found that it was all uneventful and very dull.

  The Kaiser Wilhelm was at the Railway Station to meet the King’s train, wearing his inevitable Military uniform and attended by the customary swarm of Army Officers.

  There was a great deal of Politics talked after dinner, King Edward fencing with his nephew in a witty but elusive manner that commanded Lord Arkley’s admiration.

  But it was all a great strain and, when the gathering broke up on the 16th August with the Kaiser and his suite returning to Berlin and King Edward proceeding to Marienbad, his companions gave a deep sigh of relief.

  One evening while they were in Germany King Edward said to the Kaiser,

  “I was sorry to hear of the death of your cousin, Friederich of Wilzenstein, but perhaps, as he must have suffered abominably, it was a merciful release.”

  “Friederich? Yes, of course, Friederich!” the Kaiser said as if for the moment he found it difficult to remember who the King was talking about. “He was a hopeless wreck after the bomb explosion and it was only a pity that it did not finish him off completely when it first happened.”

  He spoke in a manner that made Lord Arkley long to strike him for showing such callous indifference, but the Kaiser turned to another subject and Friederich’s name was never mentioned again.

  *

  Now, as Lord Arkley finished his meal on the train with a cup of coffee, the senior of the servants waiting on him came to his side to say,

  “It’s been suggested, my Lord, that you might wish to change into riding clothes.”

  Lord Arkley raised his eyebrows and the servant continued,

  “There’ll be carriages, of course, at the station, but also a horse if you desired to take the quickest way through the woods to the Palace.”

  Lord Arkley was suddenly alert.

  He knew from a previous visit that there were pinewoods between the Station and the Palace, woods
that resembled in many ways those surrounding Marienbad.

  He went to another compartment and found that Hawkins had already unpacked his riding clothes and it took him only a few minutes to change.

  Then he returned to sit at the window looking out at the magnificent countryside that they were passing through. Although it was very hot there was still snow on the peaks of the mountains silhouetted against the blue sky.

  The great silver rivers running through the valleys, although not swollen from the snows as they were in the winter, still had a majesty about them like the Castles that in many places towered above them.

  The invitation to stay at the Eszterházy Palace at Fertöd had come from Prince Miklós himself.

  Although it appeared to be an ordinary shooting invitation, Lord Arkley was sure that Mariska would be staying with her cousin and there would be no delay in his seeing her.

  He felt as excited and as thrilled as a young boy meeting his first love. In fact Lord Arkley told himself that it was the truth.

  He had never loved anyone as he loved Mariska and all the time they were parted his love had grown day by day until now he was almost afraid that the ecstasy that she had always brought to him would not be still there.

  Then he told himself that he was needlessly apprehensive.

  When two people loved each other as he and Mariska had done at first sight, when their minds and spirits were attuned as theirs were, neither time nor distance could make any difference.

  The train was drawing slowly into the small wayside Station that had been built especially for those who wished to visit the Palace.

  A red carpet was laid hastily down outside the door of the private carriage and, as Lord Arkley stepped out, he was greeted by one of the Prince’s younger sons.

  “It is delightful to see you again, my Lord,” he exclaimed.

  Lord Arkley looked appreciatively at the handsome young Hungarian, who with his brother had made his last visit to the Palace so enjoyable.

  Talking of the journey and other commonplace subjects, they walked from the small Station and found outside that there was a smart carriage and a Landau for the servants and the luggage.

  Beside them was a spirited horse from the Prince’s stables, which were acknowledged to be the finest in the whole of Hungary.

  “It’s much quicker to ride through the forest,” the young man who had met Lord Arkley smiled, “and you must excuse me if I do not accompany you, but I think you will find someone who will direct you to the Palace!”

  There was a twinkle in his eyes that was inescapable and, as Lord Arkley swung himself into the saddle, he knew that at last, after waiting for so long, he would see Mariska!

  He rode for quite some distance before suddenly ahead he saw a horse and rider silhouetted against the pine trees.

  He felt his heart leap and then a few seconds later he was staring at her almost incredulously.

  It would have been, he told himself, hard for him to recognise her if she had been in a crowd of people.

  But her eyes seeking his were the same and, as they gazed at each other, they both felt that no words were necessary to express the wonder and glory that enveloped them like the rays of the sun.

  “Mariska!”

  Lord Arkley breathed the name and it was an exclamation not only of joy but of surprise.

  Gone was the thin unhappy woman he had remembered, tense with fear, and with the darkness of pain lingering in the depths of her eyes.

  Instead there was a girl, so young and so radiant, that she seemed the personification of spring.

  Mariska was wearing a very thin habit of pale daffodil yellow and because it was so hot she had taken off her jacket and had underneath only a blouse of the same colour in a thinner material.

  While waiting for Lord Arkley she had also removed her broad-brimmed hat and attached it to the pommel of her saddle.

  The sunshine coming through the trees brought strange lights to her dark hair and shone on her dazzling white skin to linger in the brilliance of her eyes.

  It would be impossible, Lord Arkley thought, for any woman to look happier or lovelier.

  For a long moment neither of them spoke.

  Then Mariska stammered,

  “You – are here!”

  It was almost as if she confirmed the fact to herself.

  “I am here! And so are you, my darling Mariska.”

  At the endearment her eyes looked a little shy and then she said,

  “I could not – bear to meet you when – anyone else was present – and I have – something to show you.”

  She moved her horse forward as she spoke and Lord Arkley did the same so that they rode side by side on a path between the trees.

  They rode for only a short distance when suddenly in front of them there was a lake.

  It was larger than the one at Marienbad and even more beautiful as it stood surrounded by trees with the sun-capped mountains high above it.

  Mariska smiled at Lord Arkley as she said,

  “I am afraid there is – no café – but we can be – alone.”

  “That is all I want,” he replied.

  They drew their horses to a standstill and Lord Arkley dismounted. Then, as he went to Mariska’s side, he knew that she was waiting for him to lift her down.

  She was still like thistledown in his arms even though he realised that she had put on a little weight since he had last seen her and the sharpness had gone from her face.

  Now her breasts were sweetly curved beneath the soft material of her blouse.

  He set her feet on the ground, but kept his arms around her. Their horses seeking the grass that grew beside the lake moved away from them and they stood alone beneath the pine trees.

  “Have you missed me?” Lord Arkley asked.

  She made no effort to release herself and he thought that she drew a little closer so that his arms tightened.

  “I thought the year would – never pass,” she whispered.

  “Do you still love me?”

  She smiled and it made her look very young.

  “I was – going to ask you that question – I have been so – afraid at times that you would – forget me.”

  “Did you really think that possible?”

  There was a depth in his voice that made her quiver.

  “I-I thought of all the – beautiful women you know – ” she began.

  Suddenly her voice died away.

  There was a pause and then she said,

  “I was sure – really sure that our love was too – wonderful for us to – lose each other.”

  “We could never do that,” Lord Arkley said positively, “and I too have found the year unending.”

  “I love – you!”

  The words were very faint, but he heard them.

  Then he pulled her closer to him and his lips came down on hers.

  It was what he had longed for, but he had not forgotten that Mariska had never before been kissed and this would be the first time.

  He was gentle, very gentle, and very tender, kissing her as if she was a flower so that everything that was spiritual and sacred between them was there in the touch of their lips.

  To Mariska it was as if the gates of Heaven themselves opened and she found what she had always been seeking.

  This, she knew, was what lay through the mist and in the shadows of the pine trees and in their souls.

  It was the rapture and an ecstasy that was beyond words and made her feel as if her whole being merged with Lord Arkley’s.

  She felt as if he carried her away from the world into the enchanted place that they had talked about but which she had never really hoped that she would find.

  But she now was there and he was with her.

  He was her guide, her Master, and the support that she had always believed would be given to her.

  It was so perfect and so wonderful that, when Lord Arkley finally raised his head and she could look up at him, she felt as if he was e
ncircled with a blinding light and was no longer human.

  Then, as he saw the glory of her eyes, the softness of her lips and felt her heart beating against his, he said,

  “I worship you, my precious darling. We are together and there is no more unhappiness or misery for you, for I swear I will make you happy.”

  ”I love you!” Mariska said. “I love you – until there is – nothing in the world but – love.”

  “And that is what there always will be.”

  Then he was kissing her again and now his lips were more demanding, more possessive and yet still, because she was so precious, infinitely tender.

  It was a long time later before they moved to sit down on a grassy bank at the side of the lake, their arms still entwined and Lord Arkley’s eyes were on Mariska’s face as if he could never stop looking at her.

  “You are even more beautiful than I remembered,” he said, “and I know it is because the fear has gone that always haunted you and made me long to hold you like this and tell you I would protect you.”

  “That is – what you have – done.”

  “And what I will always do, always and for the rest of our lives.”

  She gave a little sigh of sheer happiness and laid her head against his shoulder.

  “I was – so afraid that it would all be a – dream and that something would – prevent you from – coming to me.”

  “Nothing in the world could do that,” he answered, “although King Edward did press me to go with him to Marienbad.”

  “But you refused?”

  “I refused so firmly that he did not even argue,” Lord Arkley smiled. “He will have to learn to do without me in the future, so he might as well learn now.”

  “To – do without you?” Mariska questioned. “You – mean?”

  “I mean that I shall have a great deal to do at home with my wife.”

  She gave a little cry of joy.

  “You know that I – want to be with – you every moment – and to see your house with the French furniture – the house that is to be my – home.”

  “That is what it will be,” Lord Arkley promised. “How soon will you marry me, my precious?”