Then she thought that would cause surprise and she would have to give some plausible explanation for refusing to be presented to him, not only to the attentive aide-de-camp, who would think such behaviour quite extraordinary, but also to Andrea and Kliment.
“Is anything wrong, fraulein?” the maid, who had helped her dress, enquired.
Seeing that Tora was standing at the mirror with a worried expression in her eyes, she was asking herself if she had done anything that was incorrect.
“No, no,” Tora replied quickly. “It is quite all right and thank you for helping me.”
Then, because there was now nothing she could do, she walked slowly from the room wondering how she could conceal herself.
Perhaps she could keep her head so low that the King would not have a full view of her face, but to do anything unusual like that was more likely to draw attention to herself than otherwise.
Only when she reached the anteroom where the aide-de-camp had told them to assemble, did she have an idea.
Going up to the Professor and slipping her arm through his she drew him towards the window.
“You must see the view from here, Professor,” she said, “it is quite fantastic.”
Then when they were out of earshot of the others she asked in a whisper,
“Will you lend me your spectacles?”
For a moment the Professor looked surprised.
Then he understood.
“Yes, of course!”
He took them from his pocket where he kept them ready should he be required to read anything.
He did not need them to read the score, for that he knew by heart, but for the small type of the newspapers spectacles were a necessity.
He handed them to Tora, who put them on her nose and hoped that they would at least disguise her eyes, which she could not help knowing were the predominant feature of her face.
As she did so, she was glad that Mikloš would not see her and perhaps think her unattractive.
She had only just fitted the spectacles comfortably over her ears when the door opened and the aide-de-camp came into the room.
“His Majesty is ready to receive you now, Professor,” he announced, “and the members of your quartet.”
They walked across the room to where the aide-de-camp was waiting for them.
As they reached the door, Tora slipped behind Andrea and Kliment. Although they looked at her with a slight air of surprise, they did not question what she was doing.
Then the aide-de-camp led the way followed by the Professor and, as they moved after him, Tora found her heart beating in the same frightened manner that it seemed to her it had done ever since she had come to Salona.
Her fingers too in their white kid gloves felt cold, but she refused to admit that she was trembling.
‘This is what I want, this is what I planned,’ she told herself, ‘and it is ridiculous to be really afraid now that everything has worked out so smoothly.’
Actually it seemed incredible that she, Princess Viktorina Jasmina of Radoslav should be in the Palace of Salona disguised as the pianist in a quartet and about to meet the King!
When she thought of it like that, she wanted to laugh and she wished that there was somebody with her who would see it as a joke.
Then she thought of Mikloš and wondered if he would think it very wrong of her to do such a thing, if he ever learnt who she actually was.
Then she was aware that she was in a very impressive formal room hung with more magnificent pictures and with a painted ceiling that she longed to inspect.
She, however, kept her eyes straight ahead of her and saw that at the end of the room, standing in front of a huge carved marble fireplace, was the man she had come to see.
There was no mistaking by the way he held himself that he was a King.
One glance at him told Tora he was exactly what she had expected, elderly with thinning grey hair, and the lines deeply etched in his face made him appear even older than her father.
He was thin and upright, but there was something in the stiffness of his stance and the tight lines of his lips that told her he was an autocrat and a man who would not listen to anybody else’s point of view.
As the Professor was presented and bowed respectfully, the King did not shake his hand.
He only spoke in a cold hard voice, which told Tora that he was not really interested in receiving such a famous musician, but merely doing what he considered his duty.
Then, as the Professor moved to one side, a man standing beside the King, who she knew must be Crown Prince Frederik of Croatia, held out both his hands with a cry of delight.
“My dear Professor,” he exclaimed, “it is a very long time since we have met, but I have never forgotten the magic of your playing and what a joy it was to listen to you!”
This, Tora thought, was exactly what the Professor would want to hear. Then, as she heard the King’s acknowledgement of Kliment and of Andrea, she realised that her turn had come.
Curtseying deeply as the aide-de-camp presented her, she also half-closed her eyes just in case they looked too spectacular even behind the Professor’s spectacles.
It was quite obvious, however, that the King was not interested in her.
In fact he did not speak, but merely acknowledged her curtsey with a slight inclination of his head and, realising that there was no one following her, he turned away with what she thought was a sigh of relief.
The Crown Prince however was insisting that the Professor should present the members of his quartet.
He had already shaken hands with Kliment and now, as Andrea moved away from him, Tora heard the Professor say,
“May I, Your Royal Highness, present a relative of mine who is playing with us for the first time.”
Tora again swept to the ground in a deep curtsey and, when she rose, she realised that the Crown Prince was looking at her intently as he said,
“You are surely very young, fraulein, to be able to play with such famous and distinguished musicians?”
“I am very honoured to be allowed to do so, Your Royal Highness.”
She thought as she looked at the Crown Prince that he was more prepossessing than the King.
Although he had not so much presence, he was a good-looking man of perhaps forty years of age with shrewd eyes under dark eyebrows and with what she was too inexperienced to realise was a very sensual mouth.
“Because you are so attractive, fraulein,” the Crown Prince said, “I am sure it is quite unnecessary for you to be so talented.”
“Your Royal Highness has not yet heard me play,” Tora replied. “Perhaps when you do you may be disappointed.”
She was making conversation because the Professor was standing beside her with such a happy expression on his face that she wanted to prolong his enjoyment of such Royal approval.
“I am sure that would be impossible,” the Crown Prince replied, “and, because I will want to give you my honest opinion when the concert is over, I will make sure that we have the opportunity to talk to each other.”
He spoke in such an impressive way that Tora looked at him in surprise.
As she did so, she was aware that the King was waiting for the Crown Prince with an ill-concealed air of impatience.
“I must go,” the Crown Prince said hastily, “but I shall see you later.”
Then, as if he suddenly remembered that the Professor was still beside her, he added,
“I am looking forward to hearing you, Professor, more than I can possibly express!”
The Professor flattered by his admiration bowed, but the Crown Prince’s eyes were once again on Tora as he walked away to where the King was waiting for him and they then both left the room.
The aide-de-camp joined them.
“Well, that is over, Professor!” he said. “I expect now you would like to go to your own dining room where dinner will soon be waiting for you.”
“Thank you,” the Professor murmured.
�
�His Majesty, as I expect you are aware, has a large dinner party tonight,” the aide-de-camp went on, “all of whom are looking forward to hearing your concert. They should, if dinner is not too prolonged, be in the music room by nine o’clock.”
“That is earlier than I expected!” the Professor exclaimed.
The aide-de-camp laughed.
“His Majesty dislikes late hours and I promise you, if your concert lasts for more than an hour, he will begin to fidget.”
“I will make certain that nothing so regrettable occurs!” the Professor promised.
The aide-de-camp called for a footman to guide them back to the other side of the Palace and, when they were in their own sitting room where the table was already laid, Kliment remarked,
“I think it is insulting that you should come all this way and then be restricted to playing for under an hour!”
“We are lucky to be playing at all!” the Professor replied. “As you are well aware, His Majesty is not musical and it is the Crown Prince who has specially asked for us.”
“For you – you mean!” Andrea laughed. “I have never seen such an effusive welcome!”
“I have known him ever since he was a young man visiting Paris for the first time,” the Professor replied. “He was entranced by the beauty of the ladies, the hospitality he received and, of course, by Paris itself. Every year when he returned he sought me out and it was a compliment that I have never forgotten.”
Tora thought the Crown Prince must be a nice person to make the Professor so happy.
At the same time she felt rather nervous at the way he had spoken to her, feeling that if he singled her out it might be embarrassing.
It might also draw the King’s attention to her.
All she was concerned with was the King and she knew already with a sinking of her heart and a feeling of horror that would not be denied that to marry him would be to crucify herself and kill all her dreams of happiness for ever.
She felt that only to look at him was to understand why his son Prince Vulkan had left Salona never to return.
She was quite certain that he was even more autocratic than her father, opposed to any change or progression and with no perception or understanding of human impulses or indeed human frailties.
Even to think of being married to him made her feel not only frightened but appalled at being the wife of any man who was so unapproachable and appeared to her almost inhuman.
‘How can I live like that?’ Tora asked herself. ‘I am sure that in every way he is more intolerant, more bigoted and more obstinate than Papa!’
She knew, if she was honest, that she had looked forward to the time when she was grown up and would leave home, simply so that she could escape the endless constrictions, rules, and lectures that her father gave her.
He expected that everything and everybody should revolve around him and do exactly what he wished without their having any personal thoughts or feelings of their own.
She had only to look at the King to know that he was exactly the same.
It would be no use talking to him, no use trying to make him understand anybody else’s opinion or point of view but his own.
‘I could not bear it!’ Tora cried silently.
She knew that she would fight against marrying him, even if it meant running away as the King’s son had run away because quite obviously he could not endure such a life.
Then, as she was certain that she would never make the King understand anything she thought or felt, she knew that it would be the same with her father.
‘Papa will never listen to me,’ she told herself.
She wondered frantically how she could prevent her father from accepting the King’s proposal for her or better still prevent him from arriving to stay at the Palace on a State Visit, in which case not only herself but the whole country would be involved.
‘I have to think of something,’ she thought.
She felt her heart sink into a deep depression that settled on her like a dark cloud.
Because she was so preoccupied with her thoughts, Tora had no idea what she ate and, as soon as dinner was finished, the Professor began to fuss about their moving into the music room.
Before she did so Tora went upstairs to her bedroom and standing at the window looked out at the beautiful view.
It was dusk and the last glimmer of the sun was sinking on the horizon.
She had a longing to be with Mikloš, to talk to him, feel his arms around her and his lips on hers.
“I love you!” she said softly to the air. “How can any man ever mean anything to me again?”
She had a frantic desire to see him and to ask him to kiss her once more before she left Salona.
Sweeping over her was the terrifying feeling that they were parted for ever and, although he might try to find her if she left, it would be an impossible task and she would never see him again.
“I love you – I love you!” she said again frantically and felt as if the words flew from her lips towards him so that he might be aware of them, wherever he might be.
Then she remembered that the Professor was waiting.
She had a last look at herself in the mirror and, carrying the Professor’s spectacles in her hand, went downstairs to join the others.
She walked right across the Palace to the other side to reach the music room, finding her way without the assistance of a footman.
The room seemed different from how it had looked when they had practised during the afternoon. Now the red plush chairs had been placed in rows, the room was lit by huge candles on carved gold stands and the stars in the ceiling overhead were shining.
There were flowers massed along the front of the small stage and great banks of them on either side, which scented the air.
They seemed to blend with the decorations to make the whole room more beautiful than Tora had imagined any room could be.
Even the statue of the Goddess holding the Cupid playing the pipes of Pan was lit in some clever way from below so that she shone iridescently at the back of the stage.
It made Tora think that at least no one would look at her when they could look at the Goddess.
Also the Professor had arranged the piano a little towards the back of the stage and in a position where she would be sideways to the audience and he would be directly in front of her.
Because the Professor’s spectacles made her eyes ache, she took them off when she sat down at the piano.
Having no wish to talk to the others or go on thinking, she played very softly some melodies she had composed herself and also some that she knew were the favourites of the Professor’s.
While she was doing so, a number of people, who she guessed had not been invited to the Royal banquet, began to arrive and were shown by footmen wearing powdered wigs and white knee breeches into the chairs at the back.
The room was actually half-filled when the Royal Party arrived.
Everybody rose to their feet, the gentlemen bowed and the ladies curtseyed as the King walked in with the Crown Prince of Croatia beside him followed by his other guests.
Tora thought with amusement that they looked very much the same sort of people that her father and mother entertained at home.
Most of them were middle-aged and the ladies were either over-plump or too thin.
The men, thickset with greying hair, were either wearing full dress uniform or looked somewhat uncomfortable in evening dress with a number of decorations.
It took some time for them all to be seated and, looking at the King, Tora felt sure that he was impatient for the concert to start and be over as quickly as possible.
The Professor tucked his violin under his chin, gave the signal with his bow to start and they began with a medley of folk songs, which always seemed to capture the attention of any audience and raise the tempo.
It was certainly needed tonight, Tora thought, to dissolve some of the stiff formality which she knew only too well could make an evening at Court one
of sheer undiluted boredom.
When they had finished, the applause was certainly quite enthusiastic and then they started immediately to play one of the spirited and beautiful arrangements that Offenbach had made so popular in Paris.
As the last note died away, the Crown Prince was clapping loudly and in a manner that made a number of the other guests emulate him.
From then on Tora thought the atmosphere seemed to grow warmer and the Professor’s exquisite music made even the King look a little more relaxed and less bored.
At the same time she knew when she glanced at him from under her eyelashes that he was a man she could never like and in some way or another she would have to escape from him.
When she struck the last chord of a Strauss waltz, she suddenly thought,
‘Perhaps Prince Boris will kill him!’
Then she was extremely shocked that she should even think such a thing.
‘I do not want him to die!’ she told herself in contrition. ‘But possibly he could realise that he is too old to marry again and will let Papa know that he has changed his mind about coming to Radoslav.’
Perhaps that was too much to hope for and yet she knew that it was something that would be in her mind and in her prayers for the next two weeks.
The concert came to an end at exactly one minute to ten o’clock.
The Professor played the National Anthem and, as it ended, the King immediately left the music room with his honoured guest beside him.
Tora saw the Crown Prince look at her as he left and as he did so she realised that, when she had risen from the piano stool to receive the applause of the audience before the Professor played the National Anthem, she had forgotten to put on her spectacles.
‘That was careless of me,’ she scolded herself.
Then philosophically she shrugged her shoulders. It did not matter if the Crown Prince had seen her without them.
What was more important was that the King had not shown the slightest interest in her and she felt quite certain that he would not remember her face when he saw her again.
As the guests began to file out of the music room, one or two of them stopped to speak to the Professor while Kliment and Andrea began to put their instruments away in their cases.
Princes and Princesses Page 114