Crowned with Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “I cannot believe it!” Giona gasped.

  She rose from her knees as she spoke and walked to the open window as if she was in need of air.

  As she stood silhouetted against the sunlight, the Princess thought how slim and immature she looked and yet it had been impossible to withstand the pressure that had been brought to bear on her by the Queen to agree to the match.

  “Giona is much too young, ma’am,” she had objected, “and, although I appreciate how great an honour it is that Your Majesty should even suggest such a match for her, it is really impossible.”

  “What do you mean – impossible?” the Queen had asked sharply.

  The Princess had chosen her words slowly, as if she realised that every one was of great importance.

  “Giona will not be eighteen until next month, ma’am. She has lived a very quiet life and as yet, as Your Majesty is well aware, has taken no part in social affairs.”

  Princess Louise had paused for a moment, knowing that the Queen was listening. But the hostile expression on her face had told her she was not in the least sympathetic.

  “I was, in fact,” she went on quickly, “about to ask you, ma’am, if you would permit her to attend a first or second Drawing Room and I was hoping that in this way she might be invited to a few of the balls that will be given for other debutantes this Season.”

  There was a pause before the Queen replied,

  “I would prefer to have sent Chloris to Slavonia, but if, as you have persuaded me, it is impossible for her to break the promise she has given to Lord John Cressington, then Giona must take her place.”

  “But, Your Majesty, she is too young!” Princess Louise said again.

  “It is not a question of youth or age, my dear Louise,” the Queen had replied, “but what is best for Slavonia.”

  She paused impressively before she added,

  “The choice lies between a young Queen or submission to the overwhelming might of Austrian-German ambition, which would add Slavonia to their long and ever-increasing list of dependencies.”

  As the Queen spoke, Princess Louise had known that she was defeated and now she said aloud to the two girls watching her,

  “There was nothing I could do, nothing except agree.”

  “But Mama, how can I go to live in Slavonia when it is so far away from you and be married to a man I have never seen?”

  “You may like him when you do meet him,” Chloris said encouragingly. “After all, he will be coming to meet us all and you might fall in love with him. It is not as though you are in love with anybody else.”

  Giona knew that Chloris was speaking so optimistically because she was so relieved and happy at not having to marry the King herself.

  Princess Louise lay back in her chair as if she were suddenly very tired before she said,

  “I am afraid there is no question of the King coming here or of our meeting him at all before the Wedding.”

  Giona turned round from the window.

  “What are you saying, Mama?”

  “Her Majesty has been convinced by the Ambassador of Slavonia that the situation is urgent and must be coped with immediately. She has therefore decided that you should go out to Slavonia as soon as we can collect your trousseau and you will have a State Marriage in their Cathedral so as to make it very clear to the people that the King has the support of Great Britain and, of course, of Queen Victoria herself.”

  Giona did not speak, but her eyes were so wide they seemed almost to fill her face.

  The Princess gazed at her and said softly,

  “I know this is a shock, dearest, but I swear to you that I had to agree to what Her Majesty wanted and I can only pray from the bottom of my heart that you will be happy.”

  “How could it ever be possible for me to be happy – in such circumstances?” Giona asked.

  “You must try,” the Princess insisted firmly.

  “Why should we obey the Queen? Why should she order our lives about as if we had no human feelings and were just made of wood or stone?” Giona asked angrily.

  She knew as she spoke that it was all very wrong and that what the Queen had proposed to her mother was inhuman, a nightmare that she was finding it impossible to awake from.

  Quite suddenly she stamped her foot.

  “I will not do it, Mama! I will run away and you can tell the Queen that you cannot find me.”

  The words seemed to ring out round the room.

  Then after a long pause Princess Louise said very quietly,

  “In that case, Giona, I am quite certain that Her Majesty will insist on Chloris going to Slavonia, as was her original intention.”

  *

  Having spent a sleepless night, Giona, pale-faced and with dark lines under her eyes, came down to breakfast.

  There was only Chloris in the small room leading off the kitchen where they had their meals and the Princess had obviously finished and left.

  Yesterday evening, after their mother had said that, if she would not marry the King, Chloris would be obliged to do so, Giona had left the sitting room and run upstairs to her own bedroom.

  She had locked herself in and refused to come out, despite pleas both from her mother and her sister.

  Now, as Chloris’s anxious eyes went towards her, she felt a little embarrassed and, helping herself to bacon and eggs from the heated dish on the sideboard, she said as she walked to her place at the table,

  “I am sorry, Chloris, but I had no wish to talk to anybody last night.”

  “Of course, I understand,” Chloris replied, “and, dearest, I am so sorry, desperately sorry for you – but you know I cannot – give up John.”

  “No, of course not,” Giona replied.

  “Perhaps it will not be as bad as you think,” Chloris went on hopefully, “and, after all, you will be a Queen!”

  Her sister did not reply.

  “I used to think that we should be buried alive here where we would see nobody but the decrepit old inhabitants of the other houses like our own for the rest of our lives. Then by a miracle I found John for, as he has said so often, he went to that party only because his father was ill and his mother asked him particularly to escort her. Otherwise he would have made every excuse not to be present.”

  “I know exactly what you are saying,” Giona said in a low voice, “but I think I would rather be an old maid than married to a man who could easily be my father!”

  Chloris looked up sharply.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I thought it would be unlikely that you would know the King’s age,” Giona replied, “and Mama very skilfully avoided talking about it – but actually he will be fifty-two next birthday!”

  “I don’t believe it!” Chloris exclaimed. “Surely he should have a wife by now?”

  “He has been married,” Giona answered, “but she died two years ago and that is why they are now able to ask for a Queen who will be of value to the nation.”

  Chloris did not speak and after a moment Giona went on,

  “And that is what I am to be – a bundle tied up in the Union Jack and handed to him by Queen Victoria like a prize in a cattle show. Like a farmer’s mantelpiece I shall be plonked down on the Throne for all to see!”

  Chloris sighed before she said,

  “Surely there must be somebody available who is older than you?”

  Giona shook her head.

  “No, the Queen was speaking the truth when she told Mama that there was no one else. I went downstairs when you were all asleep last night and read Papa’s book Royal Families of Europe and, of course, Debrett’s Peerage.”

  She coughed before she continued,

  “I went through them with a fine-tooth comb. Every English Princess is either already married or else so decrepit that they would be too old even for King Ferdinand!”

  “If he is really as old as that, then he would be too old for me. After all I am only two years older than you are!” Chloris pointed out.

&nbs
p; “Of course,” Giona agreed, “but it does not matter what age one is. It’s the Union Jack that counts.”

  She spoke bitterly and pushed aside her plate as if it was impossible to eat any more.

  “At least you will be a Queen,” Chloris said again as if she were trying to find something consoling she could say.

  “I cannot think that is going to be very amusing,” Giona replied. “I remember Papa telling me about Slavonia when we were doing the history of the Balkans and, although it is very beautiful, it did not seem to have much else to recommend it.”

  She was silent for a moment before she added,

  “If it had been Hungary, for instance, there would have been wonderful horses to ride or, if I could live in Greece, I should be perfectly happy, whatever the age of my husband, exploring the wonders of the past and believing that I was part of the glories that have never been forgotten.”

  “The King of Greece is not Greek,” Chloris remarked.

  “And the King of Slavonia is not Slavonian.”

  She thought that Chloris looked surprised and explained,

  “Actually he is an Austrian. He was asked to take over the Kingdom many years ago when apparently there was no one in direct line to inherit the Throne.”

  “How do you know all this so quickly?” Chloris asked.

  “I have always been interested in the history of Europe,” her sister replied, “and you know Papa adored genealogy and followed the lines of all the Royal Houses right up to the present day. He wrote it all down and he used to read it to me.”

  She sighed and went on,

  “Papa also said that it was good for me to know about our neighbours, especially those who were adjacent to Greece. And, as he taught me so many different languages, I shall not find it hard to learn Slavonian.”

  “Do you intend to learn it?” Chloris asked in surprise.

  “Of course!” Giona replied. “I expect they speak German at Court, but I have every intention of being able to converse with the Slavonians over whom I shall rule.”

  Chloris laughed.

  “Over whom King Ferdinand rules! I cannot believe that he will let you do much ruling!”

  Just for a moment Giona seemed nonplussed.

  Then she said,

  “All the same I intend to speak Slavonian so that I can talk to the ordinary people. There are some notes Papa made about their language and apparently it is a mixture of Serbian, which I can speak fluently, Albanian, which I can understand and, believe it or not, Greek!”

  “It sounds terrifying to me!” Chloris said. “But then I was never any good at languages and have no wish to be for that matter!”

  She gave a little laugh.

  “Thank goodness the only language that John is proficient in is English!”

  She put down the cup of tea she had been holding in her hand and said,

  “Darling Giona, I do not need to tell you how grateful I am to you for agreeing to marry the King. I was not exaggerating when I said that I would rather die than have to give up John! I love him so desperately and, because I know he loves me however poor we shall be, we shall be very happy.”

  “I know you will be,” Giona answered, “and it was stupid of me to think that perhaps one day I would find somebody like John whom I could love and who would love me.”

  There was a little silence.

  Then Chloris said,

  “I suppose seeing Mama and Papa so happy with each other, that is what we both hoped we would find too. Oh, Giona, it’s not fair that you should be forced to marry an old man just to please the Queen! If you ask me, she is a big fat spider sitting in Windsor Castle weaving her web all over Europe.”

  “I have counted that in a short time she will have twenty-four Royal countries directly under her control,” Giona said, “because she has provided them with a reigning Queen or a ruling Princess.”

  “I suppose that gives her a lot of satisfaction,” Chloris replied, “but it’s not fair on you, or anyone like us.”

  “No, of course not,” Giona agreed, “but you have to realise that we are of no importance beside the fact that the right flag is flying over a Palace and that Austria’s ambitions have been pushed back a step or two.”

  “Thank goodness I shall be able to live in England,” Chloris said.

  Giona poured herself out another cup of tea before she asked,

  “What do you think happens now? Did Mama say anything?”

  “Oh, I forgot,” Chloris said. “She told me last night that, as there is such a rush to get you to Slavonia before the whole place blows up, the Queen is giving you your trousseau, as well as giving me part of mine.”

  “Well, that is generous of her anyway,” Giona said, “although I doubt if the old King will be at all interested in what I wear.”

  “You never know,” Chloris said. “Some men have an eye for a pretty girl, however old they may be.”

  Giona shivered.

  “I don’t want to think about it.”

  Chloris looked at her sister rather helplessly as if she had no idea what to say next and as she did so the door opened and the Princess came into the dining room.

  “So there you are, Giona!” she said. “I had no idea that you were downstairs and I went to your bedroom.”

  “What is it, Mama?” Giona asked.

  “I have just received a note delivered by hand to say that the Slavonian Ambassador will be calling on us at twelve o’clock and he will be accompanied by Sir Edward Bowden, the British Ambassador to Slavonia who came here, I understand, to plead with Her Majesty – ”

  The Princess paused and her daughter finished,

  “ – for a bride for King Ferdinand!”

  “Exactly!” the Princess agreed.

  “You did not tell Giona, Mama,” Chloris said, “how old the King is. He is fifty-two!”

  Princess Louise looked embarrassed.

  “I am afraid, dearest,” she said to Giona, “it does seem very old, but I believe he is very active.”

  Giona rose from the breakfast table.

  “I think, Mama, I would like to go through Papa’s library and see how much more I can find out about Slavonia. If only he was here, he could tell me all the things I need to know.”

  “Yes, of course, dearest,” the Princess agreed, “and I am sure that your father would be very proud of you and would tell you that you were doing the right thing.”

  “I don’t have much choice, Mama, do I?” Giona asked bitterly. “But on one issue I am quite determined, I will not go blindfolded into the country, knowing nothing and having no idea of what is going on.”

  Princess Louise looked surprised.

  “Why should you think that anything is ‘going on’, as you put it?”

  “I am sure that we would not have been rushed in this extremely undignified manner unless there was something far more serious than King Ferdinand’s wanting a wife with the Austrians and Germans making noises offstage.”

  “I don’t know what you are saying,” Princess Louise said in a bewildered tone.

  “I am not quite certain myself,” Giona replied, “but I have the feeling in my bones that there is something far more sinister and far more menacing than we have been told and I am sure that the Ambassador, and that goes for the English one too, will do everything he possibly can to prevent my knowing about it.”

  “I don’t understand what you are implying,” Princess Louise protested helplessly.

  For the first time that morning, Giona smiled.

  “If there are secrets,” she said, “I intend to ferret them out! My Third Eye tells me not only that they exist, but that they are something that everybody, including the Queen, is trying to keep hidden.”

  Chapter Two

  The Slavonian Ambassador, who like most of the Court was German, was very precise and overly pompous in his congratulations to Giona.

  She had the feeling at the same time that the British Ambassador, Sir Edward Bowden, was fundamental
ly somewhat apologetic, but she realised that he was very much intimidated by his Slavonian opposite number and therefore contributed little to the conversation.

  After the Ambassador had told her in a long-winded way how much her marriage would mean to the people of his country and had offered her the felicitations and good wishes of the King, there was at last a pause when Giona was expected to answer.

  For a moment, because she had listened for so long, she did not understand what was expected of her.

  Then she said,

  “I cannot understand, Your Excellency, why the King has not himself come to England, both to approach Queen Victoria on behalf of his country and also, of course, to ask me personally for my hand in marriage.”

  The Slavonian Ambassador looked as surprised as if she had thrown a bomb at him.

  Then, as he began to puff and blow and again go into a long and complicated explanation, she was quite certain that she was not going to hear the truth.

  She realised that her mother was upset by the frankness with which she had spoken and was nervous of her antagonising the Ambassador so that he would make an unfavourable report of her behaviour to the King.

  She was, however, more concerned with herself than with her mother’s feelings and, when at last his guttural voice came to a stop, she asked,

  “Is the situation really so critical in Slavonia, Your Excellency, that everything has to be done so quickly?’

  This time, to her surprise, Sir Edward Bowden answered before the Ambassador had time to think up what she was certain would be an evasive answer.

  “The position, Your Royal Highness, is difficult,” he said, “but His Majesty is quite certain, and so are we, that when the news of your marriage is announced to the populace, they will be so overwhelmed with delight that there will be no more trouble.”

  “Trouble? What exactly is the trouble at the moment?” Giona persisted.

  The British Ambassador glanced rather uncomfortably at the Slavonian standing beside him before he replied,

  ‘There is just a little unrest as is happening in many Balkan countries.”

  “Unrest about what?” Giona enquired.