She gave a little sound of happiness and hid her face against his neck.
He kissed her hair before he exclaimed,
“How can I have been so fortunate as to find you when I least expected it?”
As he spoke, Aloya gave a little laugh and asked,
“How could you – love me when you thought I was – spying for the – Russians?”
“My instinct told me that you were not doing it willingly,” Craig replied, “but even if you had been, I would still have loved you and would have been unable to escape from you.”
She looked up at him and suddenly the radiance in her face was replaced by one of fear.
“Suppose,” she said, “the Baron – carries out his threat and kills both – you and Papa?”
“He will not do that.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“I will tell you later,” Craig replied. “I want to talk about you and tell you how much I love you and to hear you tell me that I am the only man you have ever loved.”
“That is easy,” Aloya replied, “because I did not know love could be – like this until I knew you – and found, even though I refused to acknowledge it, that you – were in my – dreams.”
“As you were in mine.”
Then he was kissing her again, kissing her until they were no longer on the yacht, but flying towards the sun and the golden glory of it was in their hearts, their bodies and on their lips.
A century later, or so it seemed, there was a knock on the cabin door and Craig took his arms from around Aloya and went to open it.
His valet stood outside and, knowing the man wished to speak to him, he went into the passage, closing the door behind him.
“Mr. Sare is all right?”
“He’s still asleep, sir, and we’ve made him comfortable. But those devils had slashed him with their knives and burnt him with cigar ends!”
Craig’s lips tightened.
This was what he had expected the Russians would do when they were trying to find out whether Randall Sare’s trance was feigned or real.
Because he knew that both his valets were experienced in treating wounds, he asked,
“You have attended to him?”
“I’ve done what I can for the moment, sir,” the valet replied, “but the best thing he can do now is sleep and every time he wakes I’ll give him something nourishing to eat, so that he dozes off again.”
Craig nodded.
“I am sure you two will take it in turns to sit with him.”
“Of course, sir.”
The way the valet spoke made it sound as though he was offended that Craig should have thought even for a moment they would do anything else.
“Thank you,” he said. “You realise of course that I have no wish, unless it is absolutely necessary, to call in a doctor. There might have to be explanations which I would prefer not to give in this part of the world.”
“Leave everything to me, sir, and don’t let the young lady worry about him.”
“I will try,” Craig replied.
As he spoke, he knew it would be a great mistake for Aloya to know how her father had been treated, but once again, because they were so closely attuned, when Craig went back into the cabin she asked,
“Is Papa all right? The Russians have not – harmed him?”
“He will be alright,” Craig answered soothingly. “My valets are both trained in nursing a sick man and can do it very much more effectively than most doctors.”
“That means they have nursed you when you have been – injured on a mission – like Papa.”
“I could never aspire to do the marvellous things your father has done. I am only a humble pupil following along the path behind him.”
“I know you are much more than that from the way Papa spoke to you,” Aloya said perceptively. “And, if you had not saved him, I know they would have taken us back to Russia and we would neither of us – ever have been – free again.”
There was a note in her voice that told him she was perilously near to tears and Craig held her close against him as he said,
“As your father’s daughter, you know as well as I do that once a mission has been successful it is better never to refer to it again and certainly never to be afraid of what has been prevented from happening. I want you to forget all about it and concentrate only on me.”
“That is easy, because I love you more than the whole world, and there is – nothing else but you – and you – and you!”
The way she spoke was very moving and Craig could only kiss her until there was nothing else for either of them but the beat of their hearts and a love that could only be expressed by their lips.
Because Aloya was very happy and her love had made her radiant, Craig was certain she would sleep peacefully that night.
He, on the other hand, would have to spend several hours writing a confidential report on what had happened that would go into the archives at the Foreign Office and be seen by only two or three Senior Ministers who were actively concerned with the very real problem of Russia’s encroachment on Tibet.
Later, as the afternoon came to a close and the sun sank, having finished a very English tea in the Saloon, Aloya said,
“I suppose you realise I have nothing to wear except for the clothes I stand up in? I am only hoping that one of your valets may be able to provide me with a toothbrush.”
Craig smiled.
“Come now and see your cabin,” he suggested. “I think when I designed it I must have been thinking of you.”
She gave him an entrancing smile and he could not help adding,
“Once we are married, you will share my cabin which is larger, but it needs a feminine touch.”
She looked shy and he thought the blush that swept over her face was the loveliest thing he had ever seen, but she slipped her hand into his as he took her to the cabin that was opposite his sitting room.
As he opened the door she saw that the walls were Nile blue in colour and the bed was draped with coral curtains, which the Egyptians used in many of their Temples.
“It is so lovely!” Aloya exclaimed.
Without speaking, Craig opened one of the panelled walls which concealed a large cupboard and she saw to her astonishment that all the gowns which the Russians had provided her with to entice Lord Neasdon were hanging there.
She gave a cry of amazement, then looked at Craig for an explanation and he said,
“You understimate my powers of organisation! I thought it was poetic justice, if, having been provided by the Russians with such an expensive and elaborate trousseau for their own ends, you should continue to use it until I can buy you, as I intend to do, the most beautiful clothes any woman ever possessed.”
“But – how did you manage to get hold of them?” Aloya asked.
“Before I left the hotel,” Craig explained, “I instructed my two valets to go to your room and pack everything that was there.”
“But – surely Olga – my Russian maid – tried to – stop them?”
Craig gave a little laugh.
“I believe she spoke very volubly on the subject,” he replied, “but my men silenced her.”
He saw an expression that was almost one of horror on Aloya’s face and added quickly,
“They did not harm her. They merely gagged her and tied her up, so that she was obliged to watch them taking away your things! On my instructions they left the Baron’s jewellery behind, heaping it into her lap so that there could be no question of her later accusing them of theft.”
He spoke with such a note of amusement in his voice that Aloya could not help laughing.
“I can hardly believe it!” she cried. “Olga was a very – frightening – overbearing woman.”
“I imagine that it may be some time before she is discovered by the chambermaids, probably just about this time of the day.”
Aloya gave another little laugh and put her arms around his neck.
“How can you think of
everything?” she asked. “I shall always be frightened that you will find me inadequate as a wife and certainly as a housewife.”
Craig’s arms tightened about her.
“You are everything I have ever dreamed of and that is the only thing that matters.”
He kissed her until a sudden movement of the ship made them sway on their feet and he said,
“I want you, my darling, to make yourself beautiful for me, although I think it is impossible for you to look any lovelier than you do at the moment. But in half-an-hour’s time I shall know I was mistaken!”
“In half-an-hour!” Aloya exclaimed. “I need all that time to change, so leave me quickly.”
She was laughing and because she looked so adorable Craig kissed her again until she pushed him away and shut the door behind him.
As he went to his own cabin, he knew that never in his whole life had he been so happy, while every nerve in his body seemed to glow as if with an electric spark.
When Aloya joined him upstairs in the Saloon, night had fallen and the stars were coming out in the sky.
The sea was calm and the lights from the yacht were reflected in the water, while the lights along the coastline made a picture that was so beautiful that Craig thought the scene would always remain in his mind.
But, when Aloya came into the Saloon, he knew that she was lovelier to him than any view he had ever seen in his life, lovelier than the snows on the peaks of the Himalayas, the sun rising over the desert or even the moonlight on the Taj Mahal.
Almost as if India had been in Aloya’s mind when she was dressing, she was wearing a gown that was not unlike a sari, draped over one shoulder and gathered round the waist.
As if the designer had tried to capture the mysterious depths of her eyes, the material was of a very deep mauve, embroidered with silver and ornamented with stones like amethysts.
It was a lovely gown, but Craig had eyes only for the translucence of Aloya’s skin, the silver of her hair and the light of her eyes that told him far better than any words how much she loved him.
They stood for a moment looking at each other, then she ran across the cabin as if only in his arms could she be safe and secure.
“You look incredibly beautiful, my darling,” he sighed.
“That is what I wanted you to say,” she answered.
They had so much to talk about at dinner that they sat for a long time at the table after the Stewards had left them.
Then Craig drew her from the Saloon out onto the deck and they stood together looking up at the stars.
“How could I have been so stupid as to think for a moment that God and the power in which we both believe would not save Papa and me?” Aloya asked in a small voice.
There was a pause.
Then she went on,
“I am ashamed now that I was so frightened – and yet there seemed to be no way out – no chance of survival until I – found you.”
Craig remembered how when he had listened to her talking to Lord Neasdon, she had seemed like a small animal caught in a trap and trying vainly to escape from it.
Because it hurt him to remember how anxious he too had been when unable to solve the problem of Aloya or to find Randall Sare, he put his arms around her protectively and glanced up at the stars to say,
“We must have faith and that is something the world needs – the faith that we are never really alone and the power is always there if we choose to use it.”
Aloya drew in her breath.
“You understand and I thought there would never be another man in the world who would think as Papa does.”
“We have so much to learn and because we will do it together, my darling, it will be more exciting for me than it has ever been before to explore the unknown and find the secrets of the Universe that are hidden except to a chosen few.”
“And you are one of them,” Aloya murmured softly.
Because he was afraid she might be cold, he took her below and said,
“Tomorrow we shall be in Marseilles and I want you now to go to sleep and not worry about anything.”
She looked up at him and he knew she was longing to ask questions, but unlike most women, because she guessed he wanted to keep his plans secret, she was silent.
Then she said softly,
“I must say goodnight to Papa.”
“Of course,” Craig answered.
He opened the door of the cabin where her father lay sleeping and, as soon as they appeared, the second valet who was on duty went outside to leave them alone.
Although in the dim light Randall Sare looked pale and emaciated, the expression on his face was one of peace and Craig knew that he was sleeping naturally.
Aloya stood looking at her father for a moment, then she went down on her knees beside him.
Softly, and as if she knew he could hear her in the dream world into which he had gone, she sighed,
“We are safe, Papa, and I am thanking God and Craig for saving us. I am happy, far happier than I have ever been in my whole life, since now we need no longer be afraid.”
The way she spoke was very moving.
Then she hid her face in her hands and Craig knew that her prayers were too private even for him to hear.
He waited until she rose from her knees and he thought as she did so that she had such a spiritual look of rapture and joy on her face that it must have been the way St. Dévoté had looked when her soul had flown up to Heaven in the shape of a dove.
As he thought of the Saint, he sent up a little prayer of thankfulness for the help Father Augustin had given him.
He knew that a very large sum of money which he had instructed his secretary to leave for Father Augustin before he joined the yacht would be of inestimable benefit, not only for the poor of Monte Carlo, but for all those who were hiding there for some reason and went in fear of their lives, as Randall Sare had done.
Then he took Aloya to her cabin and kissed her goodnight, and only when the door was closed behind him did he find that his whole body was throbbing with the emotions she had aroused in him.
He knew that unlike all other women with whom he had been intrigued and infatuated she stimulated his mind, as well as his body.
More important, his soul combined with hers until they reached out together towards the spiritual that was beyond the comprehension of ordinary people who had no idea that the things that interested and aroused them actually existed.
‘I have found what many men seek, but which always remains out of reach,’ Craig mused before he fell asleep.
*
The following morning Aloya awoke knowing that she had slept deeply and her dreams had been so happy that she found it hard to come back to consciousness.
She was sensible enough to know that, since this was the first time for many nights that she had slept without fear, she felt different both mentally and physically from what she had felt for a long time.
Then she became aware that the engines were no longer throbbing under her and knew they must be in harbour.
She rose, went to a porthole and pulled back the coral pink curtains that covered it. Seeing the quay she knew that they must have reached Marseilles while she was still asleep.
Because she felt it was urgent for her to see Craig to make sure he was there, she started to dress wondering what time it was.
She was in fact astonished when she learned that it was already almost noon and she had slept for nearly fourteen hours.
‘Craig understood that was what I needed,’ she thought. ‘He thinks of everything! How can any man be so wonderful?’
She rang the bell and, when one of Craig’s valets appeared, she asked first,
“How is my father this morning?
“He’s had a good night, miss,” the valet replied. “He woke twice and I gave him some soup which I’d kept hot through the night and he drank it and went back to sleep again.”
“He is sleeping now?”
“Like a baby, miss. Don’
t worry about him. I’ll fetch your coffee.”
The valet disappeared before she could ask him about Craig and, while she waited, she wondered if he was as anxious to see her as she was to see him.
When the valet returned with the coffee, she managed to say,
“Does Mr. Craig know I am awake?”
“The Master’s gone ashore, miss,” the valet replied, “but he’ll be back soon and he said, if you asked for him, he wouldn’t be very long.”
Aloya therefore dressed herself in one of the pretty gowns that the French designer had told her proudly would be the talk of Monte Carlo.
She remembered how she had hated the idea then of strange people staring at her and also being humiliated and ashamed that she was being decked out in order to attract a man so that she could extract from him information that was required by the Russians.
“If you do not learn from him what we wish to know,” the Baron had said bluntly, “we will take your father away immediately and you will never see him again.”
Aloya gave a little cry of horror and he had added,
“It is up to you. Make this man your lover. A woman can extract anything she wishes to know from a man once they are in bed.”
“How can you expect – me to do anything so – horrible – so despicable?” Aloya had faltered.
The Baron had merely looked at her in a way that made her feel as if she was a slave, naked in the market place and he was assessing her price.
She had known only too well that when they tortured her father for the information they required of him, there would be nothing she could do to save him.
Her only hope therefore was to play for time and pray for some miracle that they would be able to escape from the Russians before they were taken away from Monte Carlo.
She therefore set out to attract Lord Neasdon as the Russians had told her to do, playing on his vanity and telling him how attractive she thought him, but being afraid that it was only a question of days before she had to become his mistress.
Every word she uttered, every moment she was with him had made her feel as though she wallowed in the filth of the gutter and yet there had been no other way she could save her father.
Mission to Monte Carlo Page 14