A Dangerous Disguise

by Barbara Cartland

  The Duke took her to lunch at a small open air restaurant, where they could sit and watch the life of the river. For a while Ola sat watching the great ships and the little boats moving up and down.

  "Like the rest of London, the Thames has more visitors than usual just now," said the Duke.

  "I have never seen anything like this," Ola said. "So many vessels from so many countries. I did not know that ships could be so big."

  "Isn't there a port in your country?"

  "Oh no. Oltenitza is land-locked," Ola said quickly, for fear of having to invent a port.

  "There's a French ship over there," said the Duke, "and the one coming up the centre of the river is Russian."

  Ola looked at the ship and thought it was large but not particularly attractive.

  "Do you see many Russians at your court?" the Duke asked.

  She gave an eloquent little shudder.

  "Please, do not let us speak of them."

  She thought that if she was who she was pretending to be, she would dislike the Russians.

  But, as she had never met one, she thought it was best to avoid a conversation in which she might show her ignorance.

  "As you please," he said. "I'm tired of all that kind of thing, court life, titles, power, bowing and scraping. Sometimes I'd just like to be a plain man at home with my horses."

  Ola laughed.

  "Why do you laugh?" he challenged her. "Don't you believe me?"

  "Of course I don't. I will wager that if you had the choice of being plain mister or a Duke, you would still choose to be a Duke. Am I wrong?"

  He looked at her wryly.

  "I don't want to answer that," he said. "So let us talk about something else. I would rather talk about you."

  "And I want to talk about you," Ola replied. "So we will just have to find something which will please us both, although what it will be, I cannot think."

  "I can think of a lot of things," the Duke said, "which I long to say to you and I want to hear your answer. You're so different from anyone I have ever met before. Your Highness - "

  "Fraulein Schmidt," she corrected. "The Princess does not exist."

  He looked at her quickly.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "I mean at this moment she does not exist," she amended quickly. "I want to forget her. I wish I'd never – never been born a Princess."

  "I wish that too. It's precisely what causes the trouble between us. You see, there's something – no, never mind."

  "If it's important, perhaps you should say it now?"

  "It is important, but not for my life could I say it now. Later, when we've had a little time together."

  He took her hand in his.

  "When do you have to return?" he asked.

  "When you grow bored with looking after me."

  He shook his head, and spoke in a low voice.

  "You know that isn't possible. Why do you pretend not to know?"

  "Perhaps there are things we cannot know, cannot allow ourselves to know?" she said with a touch of sadness.

  The Duke did not speak. He was looking at her in a way she did not understand. She went on,

  "The day will come when you'll have to go back to your ancestral home, and I'll have to go back to mine." The Duke nodded.

  "That is a problem we will have to face sooner or later. But not just at this moment. Let us put all sad things away, and think only of being happy today."

  For the rest of the meal they talked of nothing very much, and drank a delicious wine. Now and then they looked up, their eyes met and they smiled.

  "Now we'll travel on the underground railway," he said. "And this evening we will find something else to do."

  "Don't you have duties?"

  "They don't matter, beside you," he said simply.

  It was the most totally happy time Ola had ever known.

  It did not occur to her then that a terrible danger was looming close to her. A more worldly wise woman would have thought it strange that he could simply drop all his duties to be with her.

  But all she saw was the happiness of being with the man she loved, and the conviction that his feelings for her were the same.

  Surely, nothing could be wrong in a world where there was love?

  They took another cab to Paddington Station and went down a staircase that felt endless until they came out onto a railway platform.

  "Where are we?" she asked.

  "A long way beneath the earth," he told her, seeing the alarmed look on her face. "Hold onto me."

  His arm was about her shoulder, and she took his other hand, squeezing it hard when a train came thundering out of the tunnel. The din was indescribable, and she began to wonder whether she had fallen into hell.

  Then they were inside the train, clattering along through the earth. She tried to talk to him but it was impossible through the noise and at last she gave up.

  "Do you want to see any more of the underground?" he asked when they reached a station.

  She shook her head. She was beyond speech.

  He took her back to Paddington, and they came back up into the light.

  "You're looking very pale," he said, looking into her face with concern. "Perhaps I should not have taken you?"

  "I wouldn't have missed it for anything," she said. "But I would like a cup of tea."

  The Duke chuckled suddenly, and took out a large, white handkerchief.

  "I should have said you were pale except for a smut on your nose," he said, rubbing it gently away. "Come now, and we'll find a tea house."

  He brought her tea and cream buns, and then they took a cab bank to the embankment.

  "I have one more surprise for you," he said. "Look."

  She followed his pointing finger to a boat hung with coloured lamps. People were scurrying down the gangway, eager for the treat that awaited them. From somewhere came the sound of an accordion.

  "You get a trip up the Thames, supper and a little dancing," said the Duke. "And you'll also meet the real Londoners, because these aren't the kind of people we normally share our pleasures with."

  He was right. They were not aristocrats, Ola realised, but shopkeepers and servants. They had worked hard all day, and now they were getting ready to play hard. They looked friendly and happy, and suddenly she longed to be one of them.

  "Come on," she said, seizing his hand.

  They were the last on board. Then the gang plank was pulled up, the propellers whirred, and they were away, heading down river.

  All the tables were taken, and many people were milling around eating from a buffet. The head waiter looked nervously at the Duke's elegant clothes, recognising 'the quality'.

  "I'll get you a table straight away, sir" he said.

  "No, let's stand," said Ola. "I eat just as well on my feet."

  "We'll stand," said the Duke with a grin.

  They took wine and rolls, went to an upper deck, and stood watching the sun begin to set, while the breeze blew gently round them.

  "The perfect end to the perfect day," Ola said contentedly.

  "Has it really been a perfect day, Ola?"

  "The most perfect of my life."

  "And mine," he said. "Because it was spent with you. If only – "

  "If only - ?"

  He tossed his roll into the water, where it was seized on by seagulls.

  "Have you even been in love?" he asked suddenly.

  "No." She shook her head.

  "That's what I was hoping you would say. And yet – " he sighed. "There is so much that I want to say to you, and yet I can't. If only we weren't – the people that we are."

  Now would be a good moment to tell him the truth, she thought.

  "John – "

  He gave her a quick smile.

  "I like to hear you use my name. The others call me Duke, or Camborne, but my name is John, and that's how I like to be with you. Just a man and a woman."

  She remembered how he'd said women pursued him for his title, and s
uddenly she saw the trap she was in. He trusted her to see him as a man because he thought she had a title higher than his own. But if he knew the truth – would he cease to trust her?

  A moment ago she had meant to tell him everything, but now the words died unspoken.

  "Just a man and a woman," she repeated. "That is all I want us to be."

  "I love you," he said.

  Her heart soared.

  "I love you," she told him. "I barely know you, and yet I love you."

  He touched her face. "We have known each other since the beginning of time."

  "And we shall know each other until the end of eternity," she whispered.

  Strangely, it seemed that a look of uncertainty passed across his face. He looked down at her hand lying in his, then slowly raised it to his lips.

  "I will never forget this moment as long as I live," he said. "Nor shall I cease to treasure it."

  Somehow it wasn't quite what she had expected him to say, and she knew a flutter of unease. But surely that was nonsense. He loved her. How could anything be wrong?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  They sat by the rail for what seemed like hours, watching darkness come down on the river, too happy to speak.

  On the way back someone started playing the accordion again, and there was dancing. Laughing, they went to the lower deck and danced until they were giddy. The whole world seemed to be whirling around Ola.

  And suddenly she was not dancing any more, but was in his arms, his mouth on hers, and he was kissing her urgently. Between kisses he murmured, "My love, my love."

  "My love," she whispered back. "Oh John –

  John – "

  "Tell me that you love me," he begged.

  "I love you, I love you."

  "Promise me that you'll always remember tonight, and remember that I loved you. Promise me that whatever happens, you'll remember this."

  "Why, what a strange thing to say."

  "Promise me."

  "I promise, I promise."

  All too soon it seemed that the boat was tying up at the dock where they had boarded. They found another cab and he gave the driver the address of Ola's hotel.

  In the privacy of the cab he kissed her repeatedly, like a man on the edge of despair. Naïve though she was, she sensed something in his kiss that was more than simply love – a kind of dread, almost anguish.

  But she could not think about it. Everything in her was subsumed in pure emotion.

  At the hotel he assisted her out and took her inside as far as the stairs.

  "I'll be here for you at ten o'clock tomorrow morning," he said.

  "Are we going riding?"

  "No, not this time. We'll go somewhere where we can have a long talk. Goodnight, my darling."

  "Goodnight," she said. "Until tomorrow – my beloved."

  She floated upstairs on a cloud of joy. Tomorrow they would have their talk and all would be settled between them. No more deceptions or misunderstandings. Love and happiness lay ahead.

  *

  The Duke waited until Ola was out of sight. Then the smile faded from his face, and a look of gravity overtook it. A heavy weight seemed to descend on his shoulders, and for a moment there was an expression in his eyes that was almost wretchedness.

  Then he straightened his shoulders, turned and went out to the waiting cab.

  "Whitehall!" he said curtly.

  In twenty minutes he was in the street where so many Government offices were located, and which culminated in the House of Parliament. At his instructions the driver halted half way down Whitehall, and the Duke walked into an unobtrusive building with plain doors and windows.

  It was a place that would be easy to overlook. There was no plate on the door to announce its function, nothing to indicate that this was the headquarters of one of the most powerful, yet least known departments of the state.

  The Duke went straight up to the third floor and was admitted without question to the office of a plump, pleasant looking man. This was Sir Bernard Danson, the head of the British Secret Service.

  He looked up sharply as the Duke entered, and uttered one word.

  "Well?"

  The Duke shook his head ruefully.

  "She's not who she says she is."

  "Then who is she?"

  "I have no idea. But whatever her true identity, she is not Princess Relola of Oltenitza."

  "When did you start to suspect?" Sir Bernard asked.

  "From the very first moment, but I've been hoping all the time that she would prove me wrong – maybe turn out to be a real Princess of Oltenitza that we've simply never heard of before, perhaps a cousin of the reigning family,?"

  Sir Bernard shook his head.

  "I've had that matter exhaustively researched, my dear fellow. The Oltenitzan royal family is exactly what we've always known about, King Mathias and Queen Freya, their five daughters, Ludmilla, Sibylla, Myrlene, Flaviola, Helola, and three sons, none of whom is married to a woman called Relola, or has any children of that name.

  "Our agents in the field are adamant that the whole family are trapped in Hollentot Castle by a band of Russian soldiers who are keeping them captive, determined not to let any of them reach London."

  "But Flaviola – Helola - the similarity of name – "

  "Helola is sixteen years old, and I've met Flaviola, one of the ugliest women I've ever seen."

  "Then it can't be either of them," the Duke agreed. "But couldn't one of the others have escaped and fled here to ask our help?"

  "Then why hasn't she done so? She's been to the Palace, she's met you, a man in the royal service. Has she asked you to introduce her to anyone in Government?"

  "No."

  "And she's made no attempt to contact her Embassy. I know. Her every movement has been watched, including the long hours she has spent in your company."

  "I was doing my duty to my country," the Duke said stiffly, "keeping a suspicious person under observation."

  "Very close observation, apparently. All right, my dear fellow. I'm not going to ask awkward questions about how far you felt obliged to go in the Queen's service. It's an occupational hazard, of no importance, as long as you don't lose your head."

  Under Sir Bernard's keen eyes, the Duke reddened slightly and said,

  "You were saying about the Oltenitzan Embassy. She's been avoiding it. She says she doesn't want them to know she's here because they would envelop her in protocol."

  "Or she knows they would expose her. Did she ever try to get access to Her Majesty?"

  "Never. I mentioned the lunch for foreign royalty a couple of days ago and suggested that she should be present, and she said she didn't want that. She said it was enough if she could see the Queen at a distance. It was always at a distance."

  "Always?"

  "Yes, she mentioned it again later, said she'd like to see Her Majesty driving past in her carriage, but she didn't want to get too close. I see why now. She was afraid of having her silly joke exposed."

  "Of course. But look here, Camborne, this could be very serious indeed. We don't know what her agenda is."

  "I'm sure it's innocent. It's a game to her, no more."

  "You don't think she's got anything serious in mind?"

  "Of course not. The sheer clumsiness of the pretence proves its innocence. Why, she even told me that Oltenitza was a land locked country, which it isn't. She told me she was an only child, whereas we know the Oltenitzan royal family is large.

  "She hasn't bothered to learn the simplest thing about the place. If she were a spy, which I take it is what you're suggesting, she'd be far more professional."

  "Yes, I dare say you're right. But she's got to be stopped. We can't have young women running around London pretending to be royalty from a friendly foreign power. It could lead to unfortunate – er misunderstandings."

  "I see that. I'll talk to her."

  "No, bring her to me. Let's see if I can persuade her to go back to where she came from and stop being such a
ninny."

  "You won't be hard on her?"

  "Good grief, what do you take me for? I've got daughters. In fact, you've met them."

  The Duke had been hoping Sir Bernard would not say that. He had indeed met the Danson daughters on a weekend visit to their home, and endured their mother's determination to thrust them to his attention. His good manners had constrained him to remain for the whole weekend, but he had finally escaped with a sigh of relief, feeling that he had only just got out alive.

  He knew now why no other woman had claimed his heart. He had been waiting for Ola to flame across his horizon. Soon any barriers between them would be down, and he could ask her to marry him.

  He was a happy man when he went home that night.

  *

  The Duke was waiting for Ola at the foot of the stairs next morning, in exactly the same position as he had left her. His eyes lit up at the sight of her, just as she knew her own must have done at the sight of him.

  "Where are we going?" she asked smiling at him.

  "For a walk in the park. Not Hyde Park this time, but Green Park, which is just over the road."

  At first it seemed just a pleasant walk through beautiful gardens, but even then she was aware of a strange tension in him.

  Suddenly he said,

  "My darling, do you trust me?"

  "Of course I trust you," she said at once.

  "Do you believe that I love you?"

  "If you tell me that you do, I believe it."

  "And I tell you that I love you with my whole heart, and I always will. I love and I trust you, and I beg you to trust me enough to tell me the truth."

  "The truth?" she asked cautiously. "About what?"

  "About who you really are. I know you're not a Princess," he replied.

  Her heart seemed to skip a beat.

  "You do?"

  "Darling, I know that it's all a pretence. I realise it's just a game to you, but it's a very dangerous game. How could you be so incautious as to choose a real country? Didn't you realise that we could check on the royal family of Oltenitza?"

  "You mean there's really a – ?" She stopped, realising what she had given away.

  "Yes, there's really an Oltenitza. Don't tell me you didn't know."