The Love Light of Apollo

by Barbara Cartland

  Avila felt that if he said anything more, it might spoil the wonder of what had already been spoken.

  She therefore started to walk down towards the carriage.

  The Prince moved beside her without protest. She knew that it was because once again he had been reading her thoughts.

  ‘How is it possible,’ she asked herself now, ‘that he can know what I am thinking?’

  Yet she was aware that they were speaking without having to use words.

  It was so strange and so unexpected that she began to feel a little frightened.

  Then, as they neared the carriage, the Prince said softly,

  “Don’t be afraid. Because you are Greek you will hear things that the other people don’t hear and see things that other people do not see. They are all part of the wonder and glory of this marvellous land which gives a Divine radiance to those who belong to it.”

  They then arrived back at the carriage and Lady Bedstone, who had been fast asleep on the cushions, woke up.

  “I hope you have enjoyed yourselves,” she remarked sleepily.

  It was then that Avila felt that she had been brought back to reality from another world.

  *

  They dined early.

  The British Ambassador had invited a large party to meet, as they supposed, Her Royal Highness the Princess Marigold.

  There were a number of pleasant young Greek men, but somehow they did not compare with Prince Darius.

  Even when he was at the other end of the room talking to a group of guests, Avila was acutely aware of him.

  As he was so handsome, she found it impossible not to keep thinking of him as the God Apollo.

  She could also feel him vibrating towards her, so that it was very difficult to follow the conversation of anyone who was talking to her.

  At one moment during the evening she went to the window.

  She wanted to view the lights that were gleaming in every window within sight and the stars were twinkling above the Parthenon.

  Her mother had told her how the Greeks loved light and they never tired of describing the appearance of it.

  “They like the glitter of stones and sand washed by the sea,” Mrs. Grandell said, “of fish churning in the nets and they chose for the site of the Temple to Apollo twin cliffs which are called ‘The Shining Ones’.”

  ‘I would love to go and visit Delphi,’ Avila thought now, but she was sure that it was too far away.

  If she went, she just knew that she would want to see Delphi with Prince Darius walking beside her.

  Even as she thought of him she was aware that he had joined her at the window.

  “No other people but the Greeks,” he said quietly, “leave so many lights burning at night. Light is their protection against the evil of darkness.”

  “I have heard that,” Avila murmured.

  She looked up at him and he went on,

  “The Ancient Greeks well understood the depth of darkness in the human soul and they believed that at night their souls was at the mercy of their evil imaginings.”

  “I suppose too they were very superstitious,” Avila commented.

  “They refused to allow any superstition to ride roughshod over them,” the Prince replied, “and they believed, as I do, that the Light of the mind can put an end to the darkness of the soul.”

  Avila stared at him.

  She was thinking that this was a very strange conversation to be having with a young man.

  Yet it was the sort of subject that she had talked about with her mother and sometimes in a rather different way with her father.

  “You have come to see Greece,” the Prince went on, “but in fact you already know the answers to the things which have puzzled your mind and which you questioned before you came here.”

  “How do you know that?” Avila asked.

  “Because only a Greek can understand Greece and I knew this afternoon, as I know now, there is really nothing that I need explain to you. For the answer is there already in your heart and, of course, your soul.”

  As he finished speaking, their eyes met.

  And then suddenly much to her surprise, he turned without another word and walked away from her.

  He left the room and for a moment she could not believe that he had actually gone.

  He did not return and she felt that the room seemed empty and barren without him.

  Suddenly the light had disappeared and there was a darkness that she could not explain.

  An hour later she went up to bed.

  She was thinking that despite all the discussions with her mother and the books she had read, she had come nearer to understanding Greece in these last few hours than she ever had before.

  She owed it, she knew, to Prince Darius who had suddenly left her as if he was indeed Apollo himself.

  ‘Perhaps he was already ‘driving his chariot across the sky’ to another part of the world,’ she mused.

  ‘I will I see him again tomorrow,’ Avila told herself before she went to sleep.

  *

  Prince Holden’s yacht was anchored in a little bay along the French coast.

  The Marriage had taken place as soon as the yacht was in the English Channel.

  Princess Marigold had worn the white gown, the wreath of orchids on her head and she carried a bouquet.

  She had gone into the Saloon where Captain Bruce was waiting to perform the Marriage Ceremony. He was looking very smart in his uniform and was proudly wearing his medals.

  Prince Holden was already there waiting for her, wearing, as was indeed correct on the Continent, evening dress.

  There were several Orders sparkling with diamonds pinned to the breast of his cut-away coat and a star on a red ribbon showed from under his cravat.

  Taking Princess Marigold’s hand, he stood with her before the Captain, who was holding a Prayer Book in his right hand.

  Then he solemnly began the Marriage Service.

  He married them according to the rights that were given to every ship’s Captain. It had been made the Law that a Captain could marry legally at sea any of those travelling in the ship that he commanded.

  To Princess Marigold, the words were as moving as if her Wedding was taking place in St. Paul’s Cathedral.

  When finally Captain Bruce had finished the Service and pronounced them to be man and wife, she felt as if there were angels singing in chorus overhead.

  The Captain gave them his good wishes, smiled at them and left them alone together.

  It was then that Princess Marigold turned towards Prince Holden and enthused,

  “We are married! We are really married and now I am your wife!”

  “Do you suppose, my darling, that I am not aware of that?” he asked her.

  He put his arms around her and then looked down at her with a serious expression in his eyes.

  “You are mine, my wife, and no one can take you from me. At the same time I swear to you before God that I will do everything in my power to make you happy and make sure that you never regret giving yourself to me.”

  “It is the most ‒ wonderful thing that ‒ ever happened to me,” Princess Marigold said, “and the reason why I did not ‒ accept anyone else was that I knew that somewhere in the world there was you and ‒ I belonged to you.”

  “Perhaps in very many lives before this,” the Prince said. “Personally, I am completely and utterly content that we are now together whatever the difficulties may be in the future.”

  “There will be none,” Princess Marigold declared. “I feel that the Gods are with us, the Gods of Greece, in whom my father so believed, and who have guarded me and brought you into ‒ my life.”

  “That is just what I believe too,” the Prince said. “My darling, I am the luckiest and most fortunate man in the whole wide world.”

  He pulled her against him and kissed her until the Saloon swung round them.

  Then he raised his head and said,

  “We are married, my precious Mari
gold, and because I want to make sure of it, let’s now go below.”

  “We will,” the Princess agreed, “and do you realise my wonderful husband ‒ that nobody can interrupt us? There are no Equerries no aides-de-camp outside the door and no Ladies-in-Waiting making certain that I am not alone with you.”

  She laughed and added,

  “And for the moment no disagreeable Queen determined to separate us.”

  Prince Holden kissed her forehead.

  “Not even Queen Victoria can do that now and, as you agreed, my beautiful wife, let’s go where we will not be interrupted by anyone.”

  They went below.

  The sunshine was streaming in through the portholes of the Master cabin.

  It dazzled Princess Marigold’s eyes and glinted strongly on her golden hair.

  The Prince locked the door of the cabin.

  Then, as they looked at each other lovingly, they both realised just how fundamentally they had revolted against protocol.

  In fact against everything that they had been brought up to revere and observe.

  They had started a revolution all of their own and now, for the moment at any rate, they were triumphantly free.

  The Princess threw out her arms.

  As the Prince held her against him, they were both aware that they had fought a battle against what had seemed overwhelming odds and had emerged victorious.

  *

  A long time later Princess Marigold stirred against her husband’s shoulder.

  “My precious, my darling,” he sighed. “I have not hurt or frightened you?”

  “Why did you not ‒ tell me before that love was so wonderful?” the Princess whispered. “I felt as if it ‒ carried me up to the sky ‒ and I touched star after star.”

  “That is what I wanted you to feel, my darling.”

  There had been a number of women in his life. But he had never known anyone who could evoke in him the rapture that he felt with the Princess.

  He knew that it was because they felt for each other the real love that all men seek but very seldom find.

  It was the love of the mind as well as the body and the soul as well as the heart.

  He had known from the moment that he first saw the Princess that she was everything he desired and needed as his wife.

  Yet she was important.

  He was only a very minor Royal compared to her and he had thought that it would be impossible ever to claim her for his own.

  Now, by the mercy of God and a great deal of scheming on his part, they had managed to escape from the prison of convention into a delightful world of their own.

  He could hardly believe it to be possible.

  It had persisted in his thoughts by day and by night that they must be together.

  Not only for the two weeks of what he knew would be a blissful honeymoon but for the rest of their lives together.

  He was certain that there would be difficulties about it and so without doubt they would both suffer for the deception that they had perpetrated when it was discovered.

  He told himself, however, it would be well worth it for the happiness they were feeling now. It was the sublime happiness that he had been desperately afraid would elude him for ever.

  “Are you ‒ thinking about ‒ me?” the Princess asked him in a soft little voice.

  “How could I think of anything else?” the Prince asked. “Actually I was thanking God that we have been so fortunate as to get away without being stopped, to be married without being prevented from doing so and to know that, hard though the future may be, this moment is ours.”

  He kissed her eyes as he spoke.

  Then, because she lifted her mouth to his, he kissed her lips.

  He felt the fire of love moving within them both.

  He told himself that anything that happened in the future was unimportant beside what was happening to them now at this very moment.

  Then the flames that were leaping higher and higher encompassed them both.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The funeral was very impressive in the small but charming early Byzantine Kapnikarea Church.

  Built in the tenth century in the shape of a cross, its cupola was supported by four long columns.

  Avila found herself responding to the beauty of the music, the fragrance of the incense and the seven silver lights hanging in front of the screen behind which lay the sanctuary.

  The coffin had mounds of flowers piled around it.

  Prince Darius had told Avila that anyone of any importance in Athens would be present at the funeral.

  She was very glad that she had her black bonnet with its long veil over her face.

  She could look at the people around her without them being able to see her at all closely.

  She had never heard a choir singing in Greek before and she thought that the beauty of the words matched the music.

  When finally the Funeral Service came to an end, everyone filed past the coffin and bent over to kiss the dead man’s cheek.

  Prince Darius escorted Avila out of the Church first before anyone else had left.

  She had learnt that King George was definitely not coming to the funeral as he was still in Denmark with his family.

  She thought that Prince Darius and the Officials were rather relieved that there was not even more protocol for them to attend to.

  She walked out into the sunshine in silence with Prince Darius thinking how exceedingly smart she looked.

  Lady Bedstone, who had sat at the back of the Church at her own request, was standing by the closed carriage that was waiting outside when Avila reached it.

  As Prince Darius handed her into it, he told her in a low voice,

  “I shall be picking you up after the luncheon. The Ambassador will tell you what I have planned.”

  She smiled at him through her veil and then the carriage drove away.

  Now when they were alone, Avila lifted her veil and threw it back over her bonnet.

  “Have you heard what is being planned for this afternoon?” she enquired.

  “His Excellency did say that you were going somewhere,” Lady Bedstone said vaguely. “I am afraid that I did not hear where it was.”

  They drove on in silence to the British Embassy.

  Prince Darius had told her yesterday that an official luncheon was being given for the relatives and close friends of the deceased, which he must attend.

  He thought that she would find it all rather boring, so instead she was to have luncheon in the Embassy.

  She kept wondering now where he would take her after luncheon.

  There was so much she wanted to see, but she realised despondently that there was only one full day left before they must return to England.

  Lord Cardiff had made this very clear when he had said,

  “I know, ma’am, that you will understand that I have so many duties in England to cope with that I cannot afford to be away longer from home than is absolutely necessary.”

  It was with difficulty that Avila had not replied that she had plenty of time on her hands as far as Greece was concerned. She would have liked to stay here for weeks more to see everything that there was to be seen.

  Now, as they reached the British Embassy and she saw the Union Flag flying outside in the breeze, she knew that she wanted to stay not only to see more of Greece but also to stay longer with Prince Darius.

  She just could not imagine that there could be anything more fascinating than to hear him telling her about the Gods and Goddesses of Ancient Greece and explaining to her as he had yesterday the secrets of the Parthenon and the Erechtheion.

  ‘I have one more day,’ she said to herself as the sentries saluted her when she went into the Embassy.

  It was quite a small party at luncheon to Avila’s relief.

  The Ambassador talked most of the time with Lord Cardiff about the current situation in the Balkans.

  Avila could not help thinking that she had never known an hour pass more slowly
.

  When luncheon was ended and she went into the drawing room with Lady Bedstone, she thought despairingly that time was being wasted when she might be out sightseeing.

  Then the British Ambassador came into the room rather hurriedly.

  “I am so sorry, Your Royal Highness,” he said apologetically, “I quite forgot what Prince Darius asked me to tell you.”

  For one moment Avila thought the Prince was not coming to see her after all and she felt her heart drop.

  “As he is most anxious for you to see his house,” the Ambassador added, “and also, I understand, one of the islands tomorrow, he has now suggested that you and Lady Bedstone should stay the night with him.”

  Avila gave a little murmur of excitement as the Ambassador went on,

  “I am sure you will be impressed with Kanidos, which is a very beautiful part of Greece. The Prince’s house is not very far away from here along the coast road leading South to Cape Sounion.”

  He paused a moment and then resumed,

  “This, as I am sure you know, is the most southerly point of Attica, the comparatively small area of which in Classical times Athens was the Capital.”

  “I should love to see the Prince’s house,” Avila commented, trying hard not to sound too pleased.

  “It is certainly very impressive,” the Ambassador replied, “and I expect your maid will have already packed your clothes.”

  “What time are we leaving?” Avila asked him.

  “The Prince will be calling for you,” the Ambassador answered, “as soon as his luncheon is finished. These wakes, as they call them in Scotland, usually go on for hours and hours.”

  He smiled at her before continuing,

  “But I am sure that the Prince will be able to excuse himself. I should think he will be here very soon.”

  To Avila this was splendid news.

  She went straight upstairs to her room to find, as the Ambassador had told her, that her Greek maid had already packed her trunk.

  She did, however, change out of the elaborate and rather thick dress she had worn to the funeral into something lighter as it was becoming much warmer.

  Because the sun was shining she was only sorry that she could not wear one of the pretty muslin gowns that she wore at home.