A Dangerous Disguise

by Barbara Cartland

And she prayed that there would be no ugly, angry reckoning when it all came to an end.

  *

  When Ola awoke she knew that this was going to be an exciting day and wonderful things were going to happen. She got out of bed and looked at herself in the mirror to see if she looked tired and worn out. Instead she seemed younger than she actually was and her eyes were shining.

  'I must make myself look lovely for him,' she thought. 'I wonder if he is thinking of me, as I am thinking of him.'

  She tried to be realistic. He had so many duties. He would be thinking of them, not of her. That was only right.

  It was a saddening thought.

  What she longed to do was send him a note saying that he was in her heart. But a lady could not do that, even when the gentleman had seemed attracted by her, because as every woman knew – and if she did not, she soon learned – men could split their minds into different compartments, and think of only one at a time, without, apparently, noticing that it contradicted the others.

  She tried to picture him sitting at his desk, studying important papers, perhaps preparing for an appointment with the Queen. And then, remembering that he had made a promise to a girl he'd met the night before.

  And regretting it?

  It would be terrible if he were to think her a nuisance.

  Her father had always attracted much admiration from women, but he was never impressed by it.

  "The more women talk the less I believe them," he had once said.

  "Of course you believe them, my dear, when they are flattering you," his wife had replied, amused. She knew her husband cared only for her.

  Her father had snorted, as he always did when he was embarrassed.

  "They do it so clumsily," he grunted. "It's not for a woman to run after a man, but for a man to run after a woman." Catching his wife giving him a teasing look, he had added hastily, "An unmarried man, of course."

  She remembered that now, and knew that it would be terrible if the Duke thought she was running after him.

  "He must have a dozen women doing that already," she told herself sadly. "He's so handsome. He's probably forgotten me."

  For a moment her sense of humour came to her rescue.

  "Of course, I'm a Princess, which gives me the advantage."

  But then she sighed and became despondent again.

  "He'd probably have said the same to any Princess. That's the problem with having the advantage. You never really know what the other person is thinking."

  As she was drinking coffee there was a knock on the door, which Greta answered, returning with a letter.

  "This was delivered for you downstairs," she said, handing it to Ola.

  On the letter was written,

  To Her Royal Highness, the Princess Relola.

  Tearing it open, she read,

  I shall be downstairs at 10 o'clock precisely. We are going riding.

  John.

  'He hasn't forgotten me,' her heart sang.

  Then a terrible thought seized her.

  "Greta, did you pack my riding habit?"

  "Of course I did," said Greta, bristling with indignation at this slur.

  In moments she had taken out the black broadcloth habit and was brushing it down. It fitted snugly onto Ola's trim figure, emphasising her tiny waist and flaring hips. Beneath it she wore a snowy white shirt, frilled at the neck and down the front, with a pearl brooch at her throat.

  For her head there was a cheeky black hat, decorated with white streamers that flowed down her back.

  At precisely ten o'clock she made her way downstairs. The Duke was waiting for her, dressed in an immaculately tailored jacket, riding breeches and gleaming black boots. As soon as he saw her, he bowed.

  "Good morning, Fraulein Schmidt," he said. "Your humble escort has arrived, and he thinks you look like the sun itself. Every man who sees you with me will be jealous that I have beaten him to the winning post."

  She laughed aloud with delight.

  "You speak as if I were a horse," she teased.

  "No, you're the prize. Now, come with me, and let me show you a marvel."

  She followed him out of the hotel to where a groom was standing on the pavement, holding three horses. One was his own mount, one was a powerful black stallion, the last was a dainty little milk white mare.

  Ola exclaimed with pleasure at the sight of the mare.

  "She is yours?"

  "No. Don't tell anyone, but I borrowed her from the royal stables. Come, let me help you mount."

  With his hands on her waist, she was swiftly in the saddle.

  "Now we're going to Rotten Row," he said.

  Her heart soared with joy. Whatever the problems, she would worry about them later. For now there was only this perfect day, this man, this happiness.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Are we far from Hyde Park?" Ola asked as they cantered along Piccadilly.

  "No, it's just at the end of this road, just beyond that archway," replied her escort.

  A huge elaborately carved arch loomed up before them, and when they had passed it they were entering the great Hyde Park, with its walk ways and carriage ways for society to display itself.

  Ola drew in a quick, delighted breath at the sight of so many gorgeously dressed people in summer colours. Here were the carriages, with coats of arms on their panels, indicating the aristocratic status of those who sat inside.

  As they passed they greeted each other with precisely graded nods, so that nobody was insulted by being accorded less acknowledgement than their due, or much worse, more acknowledgement than their due.

  How elegant they were, Ola thought. The vehicles gleamed, the horses shone, the coachmen sat proudly. The ladies, under their summer parasols, wore their finery with ease.

  Many of them were young girls, out riding with their Mamas, showing themselves at the right time and place so that likely suitors with enough money and status could look them over and consider whether to bid for them. This was clearly one facet of what the Duke had called the marriage mart.

  Some of the Mamas waved to him, and imperiously ordered their coachmen to halt, forcing the Duke to draw up beside them. He introduced 'Fraulein Schmidt', whose beauty drew looks of alarm from the women and appreciation from the men.

  One carriage was occupied by the Countess of Selbourne, taking the air with her two daughters, her son, Gilbert riding at the rear. The Countess virtually commanded the Duke to ride alongside her, and it seemed as though they would never escape, until Ola had the inspired idea of flirting madly with Gilbert. After that the Duke speedily made his excuses and drew her away.

  "He's a spendthrift," he said, sounding annoyed, as they made their way to Rotten Row. "Don't waste your time on him."

  "But it wasn't a waste of time," said Ola merrily. "It made you take action, which was the idea."

  "Do you mean you deliberately - ?" He stopped, staring at her. She was laughing at him outright.

  "Of course," she said.

  "Well, I'll be – I suppose I should have expected that."

  "So that was the marriage mart?"

  "Some of it. It's at its most intense in a ballroom, of course. Oh, how I wish I could take you to the Palace ball. Every man would envy me, and I would like to introduce you to the Queen."

  "No, that's not possible," Ola said quickly. "It will be enough if I see her in her carriage. Is this carriage-way the route she will take?"

  "Sometimes. And there is Rotten Row, just ahead."

  They cantered into the broad avenue where thoroughbred horses could already be seen making their way, bearing their load of thoroughbred humans.

  'It is exciting being royal,' Ola thought, 'even though I'm supposed to be pretending not to be. Still, I'm sure it has some disadvantages. If I were really a Princess I would be heavily chaperoned and, and couldn't enjoy a ride like this, alone with him."

  "Why are you not working today?" she asked the Duke.

  "I'm playing truant," he answered with
a smile. "I was supposed to take some of the royal visitors to see the British Museum, but as I've seen it a dozen times myself I managed to get one of the equerries to take my place."

  "That was kind of him," Ola said.

  "I had to promise to ask him to shoot with me when the shooting season begins," the Duke said. "As he enjoys coming to stay at my house in the country he agreed at once."

  "Tell me some more about your house," Ola begged. "What it is called?"

  "Camborne Park. It's been in my family for over five hundred years, and has been owned by twelve generations of my family. It looks a bit like a castle."

  "You mean it has towers and turrets?"

  "Yes, that's exactly what it has. And an armoury with walls covered with swords and pistols arranged in geometric patterns. There are suits of armour standing in corners.

  "My two younger brothers and I used to enjoy playing hide and seek when we were children. We would dart behind the suits of armour and one day we knocked one over. It made a crash that could be heard at the far end of the castle. My father was furious."

  "Two younger brothers," she said enviously. "And two sisters, I think you said. How wonderful. It's so sad being an only child."

  She was thinking of herself, and was taken aback when he said,

  "So Oltenitza has no other Princesses, or Princes?"

  "No," she said. "I've had no companionship all my life. It's been very lonely. I envy you, always having someone to play with."

  "We fought each other as often as we played," he remembered with a grin. "I used to prefer playing with children from the estate. They always knew the best mischief."

  "Oh yes, I'm sure that's true," she said.

  As they talked they were making their way along Rotten Row, and the Duke was nodding to acquaintances passing by. Every one of them cast interested eyes over Ola, and several young ladies hailed him in a way that made it impossible for him not to stop.

  Mere politeness demanded this, but Ola felt that it was more than politeness that made him flirt with them.

  It was, of course, perfectly proper, since it was done under the eyes of the ladies' brothers and fathers, but the Duke enjoyed himself more than Ola liked to see.

  On one of the rare occasions that they were alone, she murmured,

  "Hmm!"

  "I beg your pardon, ma'am."

  "I said Hmm! It was intended cynically. You almost made me weep last night with the account of your trials and tribulations in the marriage mart.

  "This poor soul, I thought. How he suffers from all these ladies after him! I tell you, sir, what would really make you suffer would be if no woman took the slightest notice of you. And serve you right."

  He shouted with laughter.

  "You wrong me, ma'am, I'll swear you do."

  "I most certainly do not. You're a hardened flirt, drawing moths to your flame, and enjoying every moment of it."

  "It's a method of survival, no more. While there are so many, I'm safe, for no woman can accuse me of having paid her particular attention. I developed the idea years ago, when I was little more than a boy and my parents were already pressing 'suitable' brides on me.

  "I wasn't in the least interested in filling the nursery. I didn't even want to fall in love. I saw only the disadvantages."

  "Which are?"

  "Being hung, drawn and quartered," the Duke answered. "Once you're married you can never run away and enjoy yourself. If you do, you know that someone will be hurt and upset simply because you are not there."

  "In other words," Ola said, "you don't want to be tied down and you don't want to marry."

  "Not until I am so much in love that nothing else matters," the Duke replied.

  "And since you avoid being in love, you are condemned to bachelorhood," she said lightly. "I won't say 'a lonely bachelorhood' because it clearly won't be lonely at all. But it will be loveless."

  He considered this for a while.

  "There have been women in my life, of course there have," he said at last, "but they haven't really meant anything to me. When I said goodbye I found it was easy to forget them."

  Ola drew in her breath.

  She knew that was what would happen to her.

  As he would never see her again, he would soon forget her.

  Then he said,

  "I am speaking of myself as I was then. Will you believe that - ?"

  "Ahoy there! Camborne."

  The Duke muttered something impolite beneath his breath as a middle-aged man in military uniform waylaid them. Ola, too, would have wished that this introduction had happened at any other time.

  "Introduce me, you dog," the man bawled cheerfully, doffing his hat and bowing at Ola. She inclined her head graciously in return.

  "Fraulein, allow me to present General Redbridge. Sir, Fraulein Klara Schmidt."

  Ola extended one gloved hand to the General, who bowed low over it. Inexperienced though she was, she had no difficulty in estimating him as a roué.

  The Duke seemed to think so too, because he grew increasingly restive at the other man's outrageous compliments. Ola sat there laughing with pleasure, taking none of it seriously.

  "If you'll excuse us, General," said the Duke finally. "Fraulein Schmidt has an appointment."

  "You're wicked," she teased as they rode on. "I don't have an appointment."

  "Yes you do. With me. But not here, because it's too public. Let us complete our ride, and then I'll return you to the hotel to change for our outing this afternoon."

  "Where are we going?" she asked eagerly.

  "First I'll take you to lunch, and this afternoon we'll do whatever you wish. A shopping trip? Frills and furbelows."

  "Oh no! I can shop any time. What I'd really like – " she took a deep breath, unaware that she looked like a bright eyed child, and that the sight filled him with unaccustomed tenderness.

  "Tell me," he said. "Anything you want."

  "I want to go on the underground."

  "What?" For a moment he was completely taken aback. "You've never – ?"

  "Oltenitza is a backward little country compared to this one," she said hastily. "Over there we hear of the wonders to be found in England, and when I return they will expect to be told all about everything."

  "Very well. That's where we'll go."

  They were in high spirits as he delivered her to the Imperial, and left, promising to be back in an hour. During that hour she and Greta squabbled amiably about the rival merits of a walking dress in deep blue bombazine and one in green velvet.

  Ola got her way, and finally sauntered down the stairs in blue, wearing a tiny hat with a small black feather over one eye, and dainty black kid shoes.

  His eyes spoke of his admiration. He smiled and took her hand, drawing her quickly out to the waiting vehicle.

  This time it wasn't his carriage but a hansom cab that he had hired in the street. This was the kind of detail that Ola was enjoying as much as the major novelties. There were no cabs in Ben Torrach.

  "It must be wonderful to be able simply to summon something like this," she said.

  "You don't have them in Oltenitza?"

  "Not near my home," she said, improvising quickly. "The castle is out in the country, with only a small village nearby, and if I wish to travel I go in the carriage."

  "With footmen and outriders?"

  "Of course," she said, sounding slightly shocked.

  "But it's so cumbersome. This is more convenient."

  "It must be difficult not being in the city."

  "The country is wild and bleak," she agreed. "But very beautiful." She was describing Ben Torrach now. She had heard somewhere that the countryside in the Balkans was savage and lonely, so her home would do very well as a model.

  "There are mountains all around," she went on, warming to her theme. "I have learned to climb them. In my own country I am – what is the word? – athletisch."

  "Athletic," the Duke replied.

  "Ah yes. Thank you. There
I am an athletic lady, but not here, because it is not good for ladies."

  "English ladies are certainly not expected to be athletic," he agreed. "So, you climb mountains?"

  "Oh yes. It is nice to be up so high, where there is wind, and you can get away from people."

  "But do you never go into the city?"

  "Sometimes, for formal occasions. Sometimes my father goes to see his ministers, sometimes they come to him. Sometimes there are balls and dancing, but too often it is just the same people."

  "Do you enjoy dancing?"

  "Oh very much. But not when it is so formal. Once I was driving home through the village, and people were dancing in the streets. I forget what they were celebrating, but there was a man playing the violin, and everyone was dancing around him. So I stopped and joined in."

  This was all true. Papa had been most displeased.

  Suddenly she gasped.

  "What is that big, beautiful building?"

  "That is Westminster Abbey, where in a few days the Queen will attend a service of thanksgiving for the fifty years of her reign."

  The Duke grinned suddenly.

  "I'll tell you a secret. There's a huge argument going on in the Palace. Her advisers want her to wear robes of state and a crown. Her Majesty insists on wearing a bonnet. They're all very upset, but she won't budge."

  Ola laughed.

  "I think she is right to do what she feels is best. She should not let the great men bully her."

  The Duke grinned.

  "Nobody bullies the Queen. She's a tiny little woman, about five foot one, but everyone is terrified of her."

  "Are you terrified of her?"

  "Shaking in my shoes," he said immediately. "Ah, we have arrived."

  The cab had swung round Westminster Abbey, and reached the River Thames. The Duke handed her down and paid off the driver.

  "Let us walk along the river," he said.

  It might have been an accident, but as they strolled along the embankment he contrived to take her hand in his. Ola's heart sang. Whatever might happen in the time ahead, she would always have this moment.

  She loved him. She could no longer deny the truth to herself. They had only just met, yet she loved him and she dared to hope that he loved her.

  She looked out over the broad expanse of water, enthralled by the way the sunlight sparkled on the ripples. She had never seen such a huge river, such great boats.