Mission to Monte Carlo

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Mission to Monte Carlo Page 15

by Barbara Cartland


  It had seemed like a light from Heaven or rather the Archangel Michael, when Craig had appeared and her instinct had told her that she could trust him even while she was afraid to do so.

  “One word to anybody outside,” the Baron had said, “one cry for help – and your father dies!”

  But her instinct had told her that Craig could save her.

  She had known even in the first few minutes when he had spoken to her on the balcony that he was different from any other man she had ever met.

  There was something within herself that reached out towards him and made her feel that they vibrated to each other and were close in a manner that she had known before only when she was with her father.

  But while she prayed that he could save them, her mind warned her that one unwary step, one indiscreet word, and she would have signed her father’s death warrant.

  At night when she tried to sleep she had thought of the power that her father had told her was always there and she tried to believe him.

  At the same time she had been terrified that she might do something wrong because she was so inexperienced.

  Then the miracle had occurred and Craig had defeated the Baron and outwitted the men who had guarded her father both by night and by day.

  He had been so clever that even now it was hard to believe it had all happened without bloodshed and without anybody being injured.

  ‘I love him! Aloya had said in her heart. ‘Please, God, make him love me.”

  Her intelligence told her that there must have been many women in Craig’s life. He was so handsome, so attractive and Lord Neasdon had told her enviously how rich he was.

  But her instinct told her that all that was of no interest as they had something so precious, so sacred and so unique that they shared between them that nothing else was of any consequence.

  She was waiting on deck when she saw a motor car being driven along the quay, and then Craig stepped out of it followed by the Captain of the yacht.

  As he came up the gangplank, her first instinct was to hurl herself into his arms, but with a superhuman effort she stood waiting until he joined her.

  They looked at each other and somehow there was no need for words.

  They were as close as if their lips were touching and a kiss joined them.

  Craig did not speak.

  He only took Aloya by the hand and drew her into the Saloon.

  Then he stood with a smile on his lips looking at her, and she said almost childishly,

  “I-I was waiting for – you.”

  “I thought you would be, but it took a little time, my darling, for us to be married.”

  She stared at him incredulously and he declared,

  “In accordance with the laws of France we have been married by the Mayor of Marseilles with the Captain acting as a very able proxy for you.”

  “I-I am – married to – you?”

  Aloya’s voice seemed to come from a very long way off.

  “We are married!” Craig replied. “But because I know it will please you, I have been to the Russian Church to arrange for us to be married again in the faith to which your mother belonged later in the afternoon.”

  Aloya gave a cry that was also a sob and the tears were in her eyes as she said,

  “How could you – do anything so – wonderful? It is something I want – more than – anything else.”

  Craig put his arms around her, but he did not kiss her and merely responded,

  “I think both of us know that we have a faith to which all religions aspire and the power in which we both believe, my darling one, does not depend on any particular creed. At the same time I want to see you as a bride and I know you will feel that you are even more blessed than you are already if you hear the words spoken in your own Church.”

  Aloya drew in her breath.

  “I – wanted that,” she whispered.

  Then Craig was kissing her freely, demandingly and possessively.

  It was only after luncheon that she asked,

  “It seems a somewhat banal question, but what would you wish me to wear?”

  Craig laughed.

  “I thought sooner or later you would become feminine enough to ask that! While there will be nobody present except two witnesses at the ceremony, at which the Priest will hold the crowns over our heads, I suggest we celebrate our wedding day in a manner we shall wish to remember and which will undoubtedly delight our children.”

  He waited for the little expression of shyness that he knew would come into her eyes and the blush on her cheeks before he laughed and said,

  “A Frenchman always marries in full evening dress and that is what I intend to wear. But I would like you, my darling, to wear the silver gown in which you look like a shaft of moonlight and which you wore at the Grand Duke’s party.”

  He drew her close to him as he went on,

  “It was there, unless I am mistaken, that you became aware that you could trust me and I seemed different in your mind and in your heart from any other man you have known before.”

  “I loved you then – and I know now that I – love you,” Aloya replied, “but because it was all so – strange – and because I have never known love before – I felt as if you had come from the stars to help me and for the first time there was a light at the end of the long dark passage in which I was incarcerated.”

  “That is what we have found together,” Craig said quietly, “the light that will never leave us and which will be ours for all Eternity.”

  *

  Later, as they knelt side by side in the small Russian Church with its hanging silver lamps and its walls covered with sacred icons, Craig thought that the blessing of the Priest came in the form of a light.

  It was the light that burned from their souls and the light that would reveal to them both the wonders of the Universe because it was so much a part of their love.

  The ancient Service had been very moving and for the time being the sanctity of it swept away their passion, so they drove back to the yacht in silence.

  Aloya knew that in becoming Craig’s wife she had reached a harbour of safety that she had never believed would be hers.

  They stepped on board to find the Saloon decorated with white lilies, and when Aloya saw a huge white wedding cake on the dining table it was impossible not to laugh and feel as if the whole atmosphere was ringing with wedding bells.

  “We are married! We are really married!” she cried.

  “I will make you sure of that, my darling,” Craig said in a low voice.

  They drank champagne with the Officers who toasted them and wished them good health, and, after they had given the crew a generous ration of rum, the cake was cut and sent to their quarters.

  When Craig had ordered a bouquet for Aloya, he also had a wreath of small lilies made to encircle her head, which was covered with a lace veil.

  After the Officers had gone they sat for a while in the Saloon, then without speaking, since words were unnecessary, they moved down below just as The Mermaid slipped her moorings and moved out to sea.

  “Where are we going?” Aloya asked.

  “I don’t want to stay in harbour feeling that there are people all around us,” Craig answered. “There is a little bay not far along the coast where we will anchor for the night, and there we will be very quiet with only the stars above us and the soft lap of the sea below.”

  “It sounds – very romantic,” she whispered.

  “That is what it will be, my darling,” Craig promised.

  He led her not to her cabin but to his and here again she saw there were white lilies beside the bed and huge jars of them on the floor where they could not spill over.

  As she looked up at Craig in gratitude, she thought that only he could have organised their wedding so beautifully and, although it was so quiet and secret, it was being celebrated in a manner that neither she nor he would ever forget.

  Very gently he took the wreath and veil from her head, and, as she
looked up at him with eyes that seemed to be filled with stars, he said,

  “This is your wedding day, my darling, and because I love you and because I know you are very young and innocent, I would not do anything that would spoil our happiness or make you feel afraid.”

  Aloya gave a little laugh of sheer joy.

  “How could I be afraid of you?” she asked. “I understand what you are saying to me and I am very ignorant of love because I have always lived in such strange places with Papa and Mama. But I have dreamed of it and I know that you are the man who has filled my dreams, and – we have been together in other – lives.”

  “I love you!” Craig said. “I love you so much that it is hard for me to understand how one small person could completely change me overnight and arouse in me sensations I had no idea I was capable of feeling.”

  “If I can give you something – new and – different from anybody else, that would be the most – wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.”

  She put her head against his shoulder as she added,

  “You are so handsome, besides being so kind and so clever and so vital, that I am afraid – after a little while – you may find me boring.”

  “That would be impossible!” Craig said. “How could I be bored with myself? Which is what you are, my adorable wife, not only because we have been joined by the Sacrament of Marriage, but because our bodies are one, as well as our minds, our hearts, and our souls.”

  Aloya put up her arms to him.

  “We are married and we are one,” she said, “but you are the bigger and more important part of us. I shall love you and worship you for the rest of my life.”

  “You must not say such things to me, my precious!” Craig protested. “At the same time that is what I feel about you and so even in that we think the same!”

  They heard the anchor being dropped and then there was no longer the sound of footsteps overhead, but only the quiet of the night and, as Craig had said, the lap of the sea against the ship.

  As Craig was kissing her, he undid her gown and lifted her onto the bed. She realised he had pulled back the curtains from the porthole and now there were not only the stars, but the light from a young moon climbing up the sky.

  She felt it was like the life that they were starting together with a light of such beauty and glory to guide them that it was impossible to express it except by love.

  Then Craig came to her and she felt his body against hers, his heart beating on hers and his hands touching her.

  The moonlight not only covered them with its silver light, but also vibrated within them and it was the power of love that had been theirs in the past and would be theirs in the future and for all Eternity.

  *

  It was three o’clock in the afternoon and the sun was very hot when Craig, after swimming in the sea, climbed back onto the yacht to join Aloya who was resting under an awning.

  He dressed himself in a towelling robe that reached the ground and put a towel round his neck before he sat down beside her in a deckchair.

  “Do you feel cooler now, darling?” she asked.

  “Much cooler.”

  “While you were swimming they told me that Papa has woken up, had a good meal and gone back to sleep. But later he would like to see us both.”

  “We will talk to him when he wakes,” Craig said, “but I hope it will not upset him when we leave Marseilles tonight by train.”

  Aloya gave an exclamation.

  “We are – leaving tonight?”

  “I want to take you to England,” he replied, “first because the Foreign Office are desperately anxious to see your father and find out what he has to tell them and secondly because as soon as this business is finished, I am taking you both to America.”

  Aloya looked at him a little anxiously and he said,

  “I want you to meet my family and, because I think your father should disappear for a while, I cannot think of a better place for him to be than on my ranch in Texas!”

  Aloya’s eyes widened but she did not speak and he went on,

  “As soon as he is strong enough, I am going to make him write down a great many things he will publish later, which will be of inestimable value to the world and it will keep him busy until, in his own words, he can get back to work.”

  Aloya gave a little sigh of happiness.

  “You seem to have it all planned.”

  “I have a feeling that your father will agree with me that this is for the best.”

  “Suppose I disagree?” she asked provocatively.

  “Then I shall kiss you, my beautiful darling, until you change your mind!”

  His eyes rested on her lips as he spoke and she felt as if he was already kissing her and seeing the fire in his eyes she felt a little tremor like a shaft of sunlight run through her.

  She thought that they could never look at each other without feeling a response that was, she knew, the vibrations of love seeping through them.

  Never had she imagined that love could be so wonderful or exciting and at the same time so Divine that she knew that everything they did was sanctified and part of God.

  “I love you!” she said and knew it was what Craig wanted to hear.

  Then, as if it suddenly struck her, she exclaimed,

  “You said that Papa must get away secretly – but why? You do not think the Russians – might be – pursuing him?”

  There was a touch of fear in her voice that Craig had heard before and he covered her hand with his as he said,

  “I thought you might ask that question sooner or later and because I cannot bear that you should be afraid, my darling, there is something you should know.”

  “What is it?”

  Craig picked up one of the newspapers that his secretary, Mr. Cavendish, had put on a low stool beside Aloya’s chair when he had been swimming.

  She knew he had been back to Marseilles to fetch them, but she had not shown any particular interest, feeling she had no wish for the outside world to encroach on them while all her thoughts were concentrated on her husband and their happiness.

  Now Craig opened the newspaper and folding it handed it to Aloya.

  For a moment, because she felt it was vitally important to both of them and she was a little apprehensive, the black printed words seemed to swim in front of her eyes. Then she read,

  “TRAGEDY IN MONTE CARLO,

  On Wednesday evening fire broke out on the Russian yacht ‘The Czarina’ which was anchored beside another Russian yacht, ‘The Czarevitch’ in Monte Carlo harbour.

  It was nearly thirty minutes before fire engines could reach the ship and by that time the fire had gained a firm hold, and a large part of ‘The Czarina’ was badly damaged.

  In the panic that ensued the owner, Baron Strogoloff, was unfortunately not rescued from the flames and, when they were under control, his body was found in the Saloon where he had obviously fallen from his invalid chair.

  It is with deep regret that we announce the death of the Baron, a distinguished Russian nobleman. It was his first visit to Monte Carlo and he was known to be a regular patron of the theatre and a lover of music.

  Several members of his crew received major burns and two of the Russian guests were taken to hospital where they are reported as being out of danger and as comfortable as possible.’

  Aloya read the report and gave a little gasp.

  “The Baron is dead!”

  “He will not be deeply mourned,” Craig said quietly.

  The way he spoke made Aloya look at him sharply.

  “You were – responsible for – this?”

  “I did not want you to be worried,” he answered, “and go on feeling that the Baron was threatening your father or me. Whatever reports he intended to make on Randall Sare have, I imagine, been burned with him.”

  He continued with a note of sarcasm in his voice,

  “If I am not mistaken, the Baron would wish to have had all the glory of having captured and imprisoned
such a notable character, so very little will be known of what has occurred by the Secret Police on whose orders he was acting.”

  “Is that – true?” Aloya asked.

  “I am sure of it,” Craig answered. “I know the way they work and I was certain when the Baron was forced to hand over your father there would be consternation among his personnel and the bow of the Czarina would be left unguarded. I therefore had one of my men go on board and they were unaware of it.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  Craig smiled.

  “The Russians were inveterate talkers. They talk and talk about everything. I gambled on the fact that when the Baron sent for your father, they would be too busy talking about it to think of anything else.”

  “So while that was happening your man climbed on board!”

  “He is a brilliant electrician and also a very efficient underwater swimmer,” Craig said. “I gave him ninety seconds to tamper with the electric wiring aboard the Russian yacht and render it exceedingly dangerous, but he told me proudly that he had taken only sixty. Then he swam back to The Mermaid and nobody had the slightest idea he had ever been there.”

  Aloya put out her hands.

  “You are so – clever that you – frighten me.”

  “Now you need not be frightened by anyone else,” Craig said, “and we can do anything we want.”

  Aloya’s eyes twinkled.

  “I think, as it happens, it will be what – you want. How can I possibly oppose or argue with anybody as – brilliant as – you?”

  Craig lifted her hand to his lips.

  “I have the feeling that we shall argue and confront each other and stimulate each other’s mind. It will be very exciting, but it will always end in the same way.”

  “With my giving in?” Aloya smiled.

  “No, in being aware we both want the same thing,” he replied. “This morning nothing matters except that we love each other. It is going to take me a lifetime, my precious darling, to tell you how much and how greatly I love you!”

  He rose from his deckchair as he spoke and putting out his hands pulled her to her feet.

  “I am going below to dress,” he said, “and I want you to come with me, firstly because I cannot bear you out of my sight and secondly because I want to kiss you.”

 

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