She picked it up and the gypsy said,
“Keep it carefully, Gracious Princess, it is very lucky.”
“Yes, I know,” Laetitia smiled.
“The Voivode left something else for Your Highness.”
As she spoke, the gypsy pointed and Laetitia saw lying on the bed beside her riding habit the little bundle of twigs the Voivode had not broken at the wedding.
“Thank you,” she said, trying to understand why they had been left for her.
It took only a few minutes with the gypsy’s help to change her clothes and, when she was ready, Laetitia said,
“Thank you, more than I can say. I wish I had something to give you to express my gratitude.”
“There is no need, Gracious Princess,” the gypsy woman replied. “My husband has told me of the King’s promise that we shall be welcome in Zvotana. No gift could match what that means to us.”
Laetitia knew that was true because in so many countries the gypsies were persecuted and imprisoned.
She therefore held out her hand saying,
“Then I can only thank you from my heart.”
The gypsy curtseyed and kissed it and then, as Laetitia stepped out of the caravan, she saw that Kaho was waiting for her.
The gypsy boy tied her clothes onto the saddle and helped her mount.
Then, as she rode away, she heard the caravan moving after her across the plateau to join up with the rest of the tribe who had already moved ahead.
She knew that after she and the King had gone back to The Castle they must have started off immediately in order to avoid any embarrassing questions should he come in search of her.
‘I don’t expect he will bother to do that,’ Laetitia told herself.
And yet at the same time she thought that he must be wanting her at this moment as she was wanting him.
Now that she had time to think it was an agony that was hard to bear to know that she had run away.
His kisses and the emotions he had awoken in her were beyond anything she had ever imagined or dreamt of!
She longed for him and she wondered if he would regret that he would never again find Saviya – his gypsy wife.
Because she could not help it, as Kaho came to the bottom of the twisting road that led up to The Castle, she turned him round and looked back.
The Castle, now high above her with the mountains peaking behind it, appeared very strong and magnificent.
All the windows were in darkness except for one!
In that one the curtains were still drawn back and the window open, as she had opened it to let in the music of the violins.
‘What is he thinking now that he has found me gone?’ she wondered.
Did he perhaps think that what had happened was all an illusion, part of the magic the gypsies had promised him? That she had just been a mirage which he would soon forget?
The very idea was like the agony of a knife cutting into her and she knew that what had been a piece of play-acting to save Stephanie had become something very much more serious to her.
She turned Kaho again and as she did so she was aware that the first fingers of the dawn were creeping up the sky and the stars were fading.
Dawn came quickly in Ovenstadt and, as she had planned, she would be riding home in daylight.
But still she longed to stay, for she knew that whatever lay ahead she had irrevocably left her heart in The Castle with the King.
*
Because Kaho was anxious to get back to his own stall, he moved so fast that it was only a little after five o’clock when Laetitia saw the Palace just ahead of her.
She found it impossible to believe that so much had happened since she had left yesterday morning, desperately afraid that her plan would fail or the Voivode would not do what she had asked of him.
She had simply begged him to use some magic on the King that would prevent him from asking for Stephanie’s hand in marriage while he was in Ovenstadt.
“If His Majesty proposes while he is here on his State Visit,” Laetitia had said, “the Grand Duchess will accept on the Princess’s behalf and it will be impossible for her to find a way of breaking the betrothal or do anything but marry the King whom she does not love.”
She knew that to the gypsies a betrothal between a man and a woman was almost as sacred as a marriage.
That the Voivode had responded in such a brilliantly clever fashion exceeded everything that Laetitia had expected of him.
At the same time she had herself become involved in a way she had never anticipated.
She had known when she danced for the King – as she had said, for him alone – that she had been transmitting her will in ‘flashes of lightning’ as she had told Kyril to do.
She had been willing him to want her so that for the moment, at any rate, she could prevent him, with the help of gypsy magic, from being interested in Stephanie.
She had thought it rather a forlorn hope, but miraculously he had responded.
What she had not envisaged was that she would be no less captivated and drawn to him then he had been to her.
‘I want him! I want his kisses! I want his love!’ Laetitia cried to herself and was frightened at what such words implied.
There was no sign of Gustave so early in the morning, so she took Kaho into his stall, took off his saddle and bridle and left him contentedly munching the food in his manger.
She slipped into the house by the back door, creeping up to her bedroom so as not to disturb anybody, undressed and climbed into bed.
As she laid her head on the pillow, she thought that it would be impossible to sleep and that she would lie awake thinking of the King, feeling again his lips holding hers captive and recalling the wild sensations he had evoked when he kissed her neck.
She had known then what was meant by ‘the fire of love’ and, as she had felt it burn in her body, she knew it was very different from what she had expected, yet far more exciting, glorious and ecstatic.
‘How can I be in love with a man I have only seen for the first time today?’ she asked.
Then she knew that, when the King had looked up at her from his paper, she had felt that he was different from any other man she had ever seen before.
It was Fate that had sent her to him or perhaps the Gods, who had been waiting to be invoked by the Voivode to decide how long their strange gypsy marriage should last.
Then despairingly she asked herself what was the use of a marriage if they were not to be together and could not acknowledge themselves as man and wife.
She thought she must cry out at the misery of what she had lost.
Then all she could feel was the King kissing her and the fire from his lips moving into her body and taking possession of her senses and her entire self.
‘This is love!’ Laetitia told herself.
It was a glory that seemed to fill the whole world and the sky and it was impossible not to respond to it.
Chapter Six
Laetitia heard the door move quietly and opened her eyes.
For a moment she was still in the dreams in which she was with the King.
Then she saw Marie-Henriette’s face looking at her and came back to reality.
“You are awake!” Marie-Henriette exclaimed. “I thought you would sleep for another hundred years!”
With an effort Laetitia attempted to sit up in bed.
“What time is it?”
“After one o’clock and Gertrude wondered if you wanted anything to eat.”
“I don’t believe it! How could I have slept for so long?”
“Mama said we were not to disturb you.”
At the mention of her mother Laetitia gave a little cry.
“The King! He has arrived?”
“Yes, I believe so,” Marie-Henriette replied, “but Mama would not let us go and watch him inspect the Guard of Honour.”
Laetitia pushed the hair back from her forehead.
“Why not?” she asked automatically.
Laetitia gave a little laugh.
“Cousin Augustina would never allow us to do that!”
“That is true,” Marie-Henriette agreed, “but we will see him tonight at the ball.”
Laetitia felt as if she was coming back from another planet.
Because her thoughts had been so concentrated on the King and their gypsy marriage last night, it was difficult to think of anything else.
She had almost forgotten the commotion that must be taking place in the Palace.
Now with a sudden lift of her heart, she realised that, unless anything went seriously wrong, she had saved Stephanie from receiving the proposal of marriage the Grand Duchess had arranged.
As those thoughts swept into her mind, it made her feel quite weak and she pressed herself back against her pillows.
“I will go and fetch your breakfast,” Marie-Henriette suggested. “You must be very hungry.”
Laetitia heard her running downstairs to the kitchen and told herself that all she had to concern herself with now was keeping out of the King’s way at the ball.
She was sure that because the Grand Duchess disliked them so much that they would not be presented to him and, with over two hundred people in the ballroom, it was very unlikely he would notice her.
Her father had always said,
“People see what they expect to see,” and one thing was quite certain, the King would not expect to find his gypsy bride as a debutante, dancing in the Palace.
As she thought it over, she was convinced that her disguise would have been very effective.
All the time she had been with the King, both when they first met and afterwards when they had returned to The Castle and he had kissed her, she had been wearing the red veil with its decoration of gold coins on her forehead.
This meant that her black hair, which was so distinctive and very different from that of the other girls, was hidden.
It was true that, when she had danced, she had worn instead the jewel-studded wreath from which flowed many brightly coloured ribbons. But they also would have concealed her hair and she had not been very close to the King when she danced, leapt over the fire and then disappeared into the shadows.
‘He will never recognise me,’ she told herself confidently.
And yet at the same time something irrepressible within her heart longed for him to do so.
How could she ever forget the rapture and ecstasy of his kisses?
The way in which he had held her closer and closer to him until she had felt her body melting into his and the wild sensations he had aroused in her when he had kissed her neck?
“I love him!” she whispered.
Then, as she heard her sister coming up the stairs again, she told herself that the dream and the magic were over and she had to behave correctly as her mother and father would expect her to do.
Marie-Henriette put the tray down beside Laetitia.
Then, sitting on the bed, she asked,
“How is Fräulein Sobieski and why did you come home so early?”
“The Fräulein wanted to hear all about you and Kyril and, as usual, she had lots of gossip to tell me.”
Marie-Henriette looked at her enquiringly and Laetitia said,
“She had heard that Cousin Augustina was determined that Stephanie should marry the King.”
Marie-Henriette gave a little laugh.
“The Fräulein is like Great-Aunt Aspasia, they always know everything about everybody!”
Then she said, lowering her voice as if she was afraid of being overheard,
“Have you done anything to help Stephanie? She came here yesterday evening after you had left.”
“Not again!” Laetitia groaned. “I warned her that it was dangerous.”
“She was frantic, because Cousin Augustina had told her exactly what to say when the King proposed and Stephanie was sure that there was no longer any hope.”
“That is where she is mistaken!” Laetitia said firmly. “You are not to say one word about it, Hettie, but I am – almost sure – in fact I am sure that the King will not – propose to Stephanie!”
“Marie-Henriette gave a cry of excitement.
“What has happened? What have you done?”
“I cannot tell you yet,” Laetitia replied, “because it might be unlucky. We must just keep praying that the King will – ”
She was just about to say, ‘keep his promise’.
Then she felt that might involve her in uncomfortable questions as to whether she had seen him and what they had said to each other.
Instead she said,
“We must just pray and will, as Papa used to do, that everything will come right.”
“I hope so! I do hope so!” Marie-Henriette said. “At the same time, I don’t believe that Cousin Augustina will ever allow Stephanie to marry Kyril. She hates us all so much!”
“I have thought of that,” Laetitia replied, “but we must jump one obstacle at a time and the first thing we have to do is to be rid of the King.”
As she spoke, she knew it was the last thing, from her point of view, that she wanted.
She wanted him to be at the Palace, so that she might at least see him or hear his voice.
She knew that, even if he did not notice her, if she was in the same room with him, the vibrations between them that had joined them indivisibly last night would make her vividly aware of him.
She wondered if perhaps he would feel the same about her. Then she was quite certain that she was being presumptuous.
‘I feel like this about him because I have known so few men,’ she reasoned, ‘while, according to Great-Aunt Aspasia and Fräulein Sobieski, he is surrounded by beautiful, glamorous women.’
It was a depressing thought and yet it kept on occurring while she was getting dressed.
When she went downstairs, she found that her mother had arrived home after having luncheon at the Palace.
Princess Olga was looking very lovely, despite the fact that her gown was three years old and her bonnet that she had worn for the same length of time had been hastily refurbished with some new ribbons.
She had also added a few small feathers from a box in which they kept all the odds and ends that might come in useful.
“Good morning, my darling!” she said as Laetitia appeared. “Or rather, good afternoon!”
“I am ashamed at sleeping so late,” Laetitia said, kissing her mother.
“It was the best thing you could do. It must have been very tiring riding all the way to the Fräulein’s cottage. Was she very ill, as you were afraid she might be?”
Hastily Laetitia remembered that her excuse for going to see her old Governess was that she had sent a message to say that she was ill.
“She is better, Mama, and wanted to hear all about you and, of course, Kyril who has always been her favourite.”
The Princess laughed.
“There is no doubt about that!”
Then she said hastily and almost in a whisper,
“She did not know about Kyril and Stephanie?”
Laetitia shook her head.
“No, of course not, but she had heard how unkindly Cousin Augustina treats us all and that people are very shocked by her behaviour.”
The Princess pressed her lips together for a moment.
Then she said,
“I have something to tell you which I hope will not upset you.”
Then, as her daughters looked at her wide-eyed, it flashed through Laetitia’s mind that perhaps Cousin Augustina was going to forbid them to go to the ball.
Slowly the Princess said,
“Augustina has decided that neither of you shall be presented to the King and she added rather insultingly, I thought, that you are not to try to attract his notice.”
Laetitia gave an exclamation of anger.
“It is not right, Mama, to
treat us like that! Surely you objected?”
“I realised if I did so it would be quite ineffective,” Princess Olga replied, “and, from the way Cousin Louis looked at me, I was aware that he had already tried to alter his wife’s decision and failed.”
“I suppose if we had any pride, we would not even go to the ball,” Laetitia said.
As she spoke, she knew that however rude the Grand Duchess might be to them, she would go because she wanted to see the King, even if it was at a distance.
She wanted to look at him and be certain that he was as attractive as he had seemed last night and that the love she felt still surging through her body had not been just the Voivode’s magic.
“I am sorry, girls,” the Princess said softly.
“You have not told us, Mama,” Laetitia remarked, “what you thought of the King.”
“I thought him charming!” the Princess replied. “He was not what I expected and he certainly has the hair and eyes of a gypsy, which Cousin Augustina has always deprecated. He also has the most beautiful manners and an undoubted sense of humour.”
“What made you think that?” Laetitia asked curiously.
“When Cousin Augustina was forcing Stephanie upon him in what I thought was a most embarrassing manner,” her mother answered, “there was a twinkle in his eyes as if he knew exactly what was happening.”
She paused before she added,
“I was sorry for the poor child, because she was obviously nervous and very apprehensive.”
“Of what, Mama?”
“Of being alone with the King,” Princess Olga replied. “After luncheon Cousin Augustina said to him, ‘I know Your Majesty would like to see the garden, which I think very beautiful and Stephanie would love to show it to you’.”
Laetitia drew in her breath.
“Surely that is very unconventional?” Marie-Henriette exclaimed.
“It is certainly something my mother would not have allowed,” Princess Olga agreed, “and, as if Cousin Louis was shocked, he said firmly, ‘what a good idea, Augustina! As it is very hot in here, we will all go into the garden’.”
Marie-Henriette clapped her hands.
“That must have annoyed Cousin Augustina.”
Gypsy Magic Page 11