“I am afraid not, Your Royal Highness,” the Colonel answered swiftly.
“Oh, how can you be so unhelpful?” the Princess turned on him. “I thought you were on my side.”
“Your Highness is well aware,” the Colonel said, “that if I encouraged you to intrigue against Her Majesty’s orders, I would be dismissed instantly, if I was not taken to the Tower of London as a traitor!”
He spoke lightly,
At the same time both the Prince and Princess knew that there was a great deal of truth in what he was saying.
As if he thought that it was a mistake to continue with this line of conversation, Colonel Bassett asked,
“If Your Royal Highness will now excuse me, I have a great many letters that need my attention.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the Princess responded.
The words had hardly left her lips before Colonel Bassett had turned and hurried from the room, closing the door behind him.
The Prince put his arms round the Princess and pulled her close against him.
“I love you,” he breathed, “and it is an agony to think that you have to go away from me. I suppose I could make the excuse that I too wish to go to Greece to attend Prince Eumenus’s funeral.”
“The Queen will not believe that,” the Princess said, “because the other night, when she mentioned to you that he was feeling ill, you said quite positively that you had never ever heard of him.”
The Prince sighed.
“I remember that now and I cannot think why I did not keep my mouth shut!”
“It is the sort of thing Her Majesty would remember,” Princess Marigold said. “Anyway, I am sure that she would not allow you to travel with me, I suppose in a Battleship, unless they are being measly and sending me by train.”
“If you are representing Her Majesty, then you will go by sea.”
Being of German origin he was extremely knowledgeable on protocol.
And the Princess was sure that he was right.
“But I want to be with you, darling Holden,” she insisted. “In your yacht and away from everyone including all these ghastly old fuddy-duddies, who keep on saying that I should not marry you.”
“I am terrified in case you ever agree with them,” the Prince commented.
“You know I would never, never do so!” the Princess answered. “I love you, Holden, and I had never loved anyone until I met you.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately until they were both breathless.
If the Queen had found out that the Princess received Prince Holden in her apartments without being chaperoned by a Lady-in-Waiting, she would have been outraged.
They were both aware that it was lucky that Prince Holden had come to find her when she was with her Comptroller.
It was Colonel Bassett who had suggested in the first place that it would be best for him to see the Princess alone in the mornings. Otherwise she would have her two aged and very garrulous Ladies-in-Waiting with her.
Now they could discuss privately plans on which they had not yet made a final decision without it being talked about all over Windsor Castle.
It had therefore been a golden opportunity for Prince Holden to be alone with Princess Marigold.
This was something with great difficulty that they were continually trying to find in The Castle.
Because the Queen disapproved of the engagement, she deliberately put every obstacle in their way.
Now, as the Prince raised his head, he said in a voice that was slightly unsteady,
“I love you, my dearest! I love you and I know that once we are married, we will be very happy. But I find this waiting just intolerable.”
“So do I,” the Princess said, “and it will be worse still when I have to go away. I suppose it will take a fortnight or even three weeks to go to Greece, attend the funeral, make myself agreeable to a whole collection of boring people and then come slowly home.”
She gave an exclamation of anger as she addrd,
“I am sure that ghastly old woman will tell the ship’s Captain to move at one knot per hour, just so that I cannot be with you!”
“You are not to upset yourself, darling. I swear that we will be married the very day the six months of mourning ends.”
“If she will let us,” the Princess murmured.
She gave a sudden cry.
“Suppose, just suppose, Holden, while I am away, she somehow gets rid of you? I would not trust her not to have you kidnapped or sent to Outer Mongolia or darkest Africa or some such place!”
Prince Holden laughed.
“Now you are just imagining things. I promise I will keep very quiet and out of sight, so as not to annoy Her Majesty, until you return.”
“I will not go! I swear I will not go!” Princess Marigold cried. “There must be someone who can go in my place! Think, Holden, think! Who do we know who looks like me?”
As this was something that they had not thought of before, the Prince stared at her.
Then he remarked,
“It is rather funny that you should say that! I saw a girl last week who was in fact very like you.”
“Was she a relative of mine?” Princess Marigold asked.
“I was staying with the Duke of Ilchester,” the Prince went on, “and I went to Church on Sunday because the Duchess asked me rather pointedly, I thought, to escort her.”
“Yes, yes, go on!” the Princess urged him.
“It was a pleasant village Service. But I was surprised to see in the Church in the front pew, sitting beside an attractive lady, a girl who might actually have been your sister.”
“I don’t believe it!” Princess Marigold exclaimed. “Who is she?”
“I asked the Duchess afterwards and she told me that the lady was the Vicar’s wife and she was Greek.”
“Greek?” the Princess exclaimed. “And the girl who looked like me?”
“Her daughter, named Avila, I was informed. I meant to tell you all about it, but I forgot until just now.”
He smiled before he added,
“How can I think of anyone except for you?”
“If she looks like me,” Princess Marigold said, “and, if she has some Greek blood in her, then let us offer to pay her, although, of course, we can put it more politely as a gift, to go to Greece in my place.”
The Prince laughed.
“Now you are Fairy tailing again! I cannot believe for a moment she would be allowed to go or that she could take your place without anyone being aware of it.”
“Then if she takes my place just before I am supposed to step aboard the ship, draped of course in black and her face obscured by a crêpe veil, who is to know?”
“Are you really serious?” Prince Holden asked. “You must be aware that the whole idea is crazy! The Queen would be absolutely furious if she learns of it.”
“If she learns of it!” the Princess emphasised. “Now, Holden, we have to be clever about this. I know how brilliant you are at organisation. Surely you can organise this for me?”
She paused for a moment before she went on firmly,
“I love you! I love you! To be away from you even for a day is agony. To be gone from you for weeks I think would kill me!”
“My darling, my sweet, how can you say such things?” the Prince asked.
He pulled her close to him.
He would have kissed her again, but the Princess put her fingers over his lips.
“Promise me,” she pleaded, “that you will try really hard to make it possible for me to come with you in your yacht. Promise me.”
The Prince looked down at her and was lost.
Finally he said,
“I promise, but ‒ ”
Whatever he would have said was lost as Princess Marigold was kissing him wildly.
CHAPTER TWO
Driving his chaise with Princess Marigold beside him, Prince Holden related,
“We have escaped for the moment and it was just luck that I
sat next to the Duchess of Ilchester at dinner last night.”
“I think Fate is on our side,” the Princess replied, “and now we have to persuade this Greek woman that it is advantageous for her daughter to go to Athens in my place.”
The Prince looked serious.
He was thinking privately that it was very unlikely that the Vicar’s wife would agree to anything quite so extraordinary.
What was more, he was certain that their plot would be discovered and Queen Victoria would be furious with them both.
However he knew better than to say so at this particular moment.
As they drove on, Princess Marigold commented,
“It will be wonderful to get away from everything in your yacht. You will have to plan it all out very carefully so that I leave at the same time as the girl goes to Athens.”
Because he was so enjoying being alone with the Princess, Prince Holden did not argue about it and so made no reply.
He had very cleverly arranged that the Lady-in-Waiting should travel in another chaise behind them.
“I am so sorry,” he had said, “but there really is not enough room for three people in the front of this chaise and so I cannot imagine that anyone would want to sit behind us with the groom.”
Because they had left Windsor Castle very early in the morning, there were no Senior Officials about and they had driven off as the Prince had arranged.
The Lady-in-Waiting, Lady Bedstone, came behind them.
The Princess had chosen her carefully because she was old, slightly deaf and delighted to be going to luncheon with the Duke and Duchess of Ilchester.
“I told the Duchess,” the Prince said when he was explaining to the Princess what he had arranged, “that you were longing to see her garden, which I had told you was very beautiful and you also wished to meet and have a talk with the Vicar’s wife if that was at all possible.”
“Was she surprised?” Princess Marigold enquired.
“She was, until I explained that no one in The Castle was Greek and the few who spoke the language did so, in your opinion, very badly.”
“If everything goes the way you have planned it, it will be wonderful!” the Princess said.
She had no idea that Prince Holden had lain awake all through tha night wondering how he could persuade her to change her mind.
He finally decided that he would rely on the Vicar’s wife. He was sure that she would refuse to allow her daughter to take part in a lie by pretending to be the Princess.
Princess Marigold was thrilled, however, at the way everything was going.
She put her hand on the Prince’s knee as she sighed,
“I love you, Holden, and I swear to you that nothing and nobody shall stop us from being married the very day I am out of mourning.”
“If all else fails,” the Prince said blithely, “we will run away together. We can be married in France or anywhere else we go. Then Her Majesty, however important she may be, can do nothing about it whatsoever.”
“I would expect that she will think up some outlandish punishment,” Princess Marigold groaned. “But she will not be able to prevent me from becoming your wife.”
“No one can prevent it!” the Prince asserted.
He was, like Princess Marigold, head-over-heels in love.
He realised, of course, that it would indeed be of tremendous benefit to his Principality to be allied to the British Throne.
He had been attracted by a number of women in the past and they by him.
He had, however, never felt as he felt now. At the same time he was aware that he must keep his head.
He was trying to prevent Princess Marigold from doing something reckless that would incur the legendary wrath of Queen Victoria.
He was well aware that everyone was frightened of Her Majesty and intimidated by her including the Prince of Wales and his siblings.
He had thought at his first interview that she was the most awe-inspiring person he had ever met in the whole of his life.
He knew that his father would be extremely annoyed if the Queen turned her back on him and it would be a catastrophe if he and the Princess were not accepted at Windsor Castle in the future.
But the sun was shining and Princess Marigold loved him!
It seemed impossible at this very moment that the future could be dull and dismal for them both.
They reached the Duke’s house, which was only about six miles from Windsor Castle.
He owned a number of other houses in the London area, but Chester Park was one of the most impressive.
Set in five-thousand acres of land, it had been in the family for centuries and it had been added to by a number of different generations.
As they drove up the drive, Prince Holden thought that it was more of a Palace than a country house.
The Duchess greeted Princess Marigold affectionately, exclaiming as they entered the drawing room,
“It is delightful to see Your Royal Highness and such a lovely surprise.”
“I know your garden is beautiful,” the Princess replied, “and, as I had nothing dull and formal to do today, it was a perfect opportunity to come here with Prince Holden.”
The Prince bowed and then kissed the Duchess’s hand.
When the Duke joined them, they went into the dining room for luncheon.
Half-way through the meal the Duchess declared to Princess Marigold,
“Prince Holden tells me that you wish to speak with Mrs. Grandell, who is Greek.”
“I would love to do so, if it is not too much trouble,” Princess Marigold replied. “I am so frightened that now that Papa and Mama are dead I shall forget my Greek and have to learn it from a book, which is never the same as speaking the language with a native.”
“I am sure that is true,” the Duchess agreed, “and I have sent a message to Mrs. Grandell telling her that you, ma’am, would call on her at about three o’clock this afternoon.”
“That is very kind of you,” the Princess smiled. “Do tell me, where does she come from in Greece?”
It seemed to her that the Duchess was suddenly at a loss for words.
She looked across the table at her husband, who said quickly,
“Mrs. Grandell is a very reserved woman and seldom talks to anyone about Greece or the time when she left the country.”
The Duke then went on to discuss with Prince Holden some new horses that he had just bought and how pleased he was with them.
The conversation about Mrs. Grandell thus came to an abrupt end.
Princess Marigold, who was very quick-witted, guessed that there was some secret and it was something that she was not meant to find out and she wondered what it could possibly be.
She managed, however, to be extremely interested in the garden, which she was shown around after luncheon.
But she was really counting the minutes until they could leave the Duke’s house.
As they drove down the drive with Lady Bedstone following them, the Princess heaved a deep sigh of relief.
“I have never known time pass so slowly,” she complained to Prince Holden.
“You must not be disappointed, my darling,” he told her, “if Mrs. Grandell will not agree to what you suggest and then we will have to try and find somebody else.”
“I cannot imagine that there are many others in the world who look exactly like me,” the Princess replied.
“Maybe I was mistaken,” Prince Holden said a little uncomfortably. “After all I only saw the girl in Church.”
“We will soon know whether you are right or wrong,” the Prince said as he drew up his chaise at the front door of the Vicarage.
The Princess had been sensible enough to tell Lady Bedstone that it would be a mistake for her to come into the Vicarage with them.
“The Duchess said,” she told her when they were alone for just a moment, “that Mrs. Grandell is very reserved. I am sure therefore that you will understand when I ask you to wait outside.”
�
�I would much rather do that, ma’am,” Lady Bedstone replied. “I find getting in and out of carriages very tiring. And it was so hot walking round the garden.”
“Then you must rest in the shade,” the Princess said in a comforting tone. “We will not be long.”
The Vicar, the Reverend Patrick Grandell, was waiting for them with the front door open when they climbed out of the chaise.
He gave a very correct bow to the Princess as to Royalty, moving only his head and not his shoulders and he did the same to the Prince, who shook him warmly by the hand.
“My wife is waiting for you, ma’am, in the drawing room,” he related to the Princess. “I thought perhaps that His Royal Highness would like to come and look at my bowling green, which I have just completed, and also a target I have just erected for an archery contest.”
“I would very much like to see them both,” the Prince agreed.
The Vicar led him away across a small hall and opened a door on the other side of it.
“Her Royal Highness is here, Lycia,” he called out.
His wife, who had been sitting sewing in the window, hastily rose to her feet.
The girl who was sitting beside her rose as well.
When Princess Marigold looked at her, she gave a little gasp.
There was no doubt that the Prince was right.
Although it seemed so extraordinary, the daughter of the Vicar and his wife were indeed very much like her.
She had the same fair hair, which was very understandable as the Vicar himself was fair-haired and blue-eyed.
But she had her mother’s dark Greek eyes that seemed to be almost too big for her small pointed face.
She was just so like the Princess that it was uncanny.
She was, however, two years younger and there was something about Avila’s beauty that the Princess did not have.
There was, Prince Holden thought, something essentially spiritual about her.
Something which made her seem not quite human, as if she belonged to a different world from that of other people.
As the Vicar’s wife curtseyed very gracefully, her daughter did the same.
Then the Vicar said in a jovial manner,
“His Royal Highness and I are going to leave you, Lycia. I was never a particularly good linguist where Greek is concerned and I rather suspect His Royal Highness finds it a difficult language to follow.”
The Love Light of Apollo Page 2