Princes and Princesses: Favourite Royal Romances

by Barbara Cartland

  It was then that Vida realised that standing opposite her was the Prince.

  For a moment their eyes met and she thought that there was an expression of pain in his.

  Then, as she looked away, she told herself that she was not concerned with his feelings but her own.

  What she had to do, as quickly as was humanly possible, was to forget him.

  At the same time, without really meaning to, she glanced at him again.

  He was looking at her and now, despite herself, she felt that little flicker of excitement within her that came a second before he took her in his arms.

  Then, as she tried to prevent it flooding through her heart and up to her lips, the Princess Eudoxia moved across the room from where she had been standing and slipped her arm through the Prince’s.

  As she did so, she threw back her head and looked up at him, the long line of her neck very lovely and very sensuous against the dark texture of his coat.

  Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes very eloquent, as if she told him aloud how much she wanted him.

  It was then, instead of ecstasy, that Vida felt that there was murder in her heart and she was frightened by the violence of her own feelings.

  Chapter Seven

  Having cried herself to sleep, Vida awoke feeling miserable with an aching head.

  She lay in the dim light wishing that she need not rouse herself and wanting to drift back into unconsciousness.

  She knew that with every breath she drew the pain she was feeling became harder to bear and, although she tried to tell herself it was ridiculous, she felt that she was being crucified.

  Margit came into the room to pull back the curtains.

  “It’s time you were up, Miss Vida!” she said cheerfully, “as I understands we’re leavin’ today.”

  Vida forced herself to open her eyes.

  Last night, after what she thought to anyone would have been an extremely dull evening compared to those she had enjoyed at The Castle, the Czar had retired soon after midnight, and the party broke up.

  Vida had learnt that His Imperial Majesty disliked late hours and when he was at the Winter Palace he would wander awkwardly through the reception rooms until at two o’clock he would begin to look at his watch.

  “Most Russian parties,” her father had explained, “do not end until breakfast time at six o’clock in the morning, but the Czar has a disconcerting habit of dismissing the orchestra one by one. When the band is reduced to a piano player and a violinist, even the most ardent party goer knows that it is time to go home!”

  Vida had laughed at the time, but she was therefore not surprised at the Czar’s behaviour last night, although on this occasion he was not the host.

  He had talked first to one person, then to another, hardly finishing one conversation before he started the next.

  She had, in fact, had a short talk with him soon after they had left the dining room.

  “I cannot remember ever meeting anybody of your name before, Countess,” he said abruptly, almost as if he was accusing her of deceiving him.

  “I am afraid, Your Majesty, that most of my relatives are dead,” Vida replied. “Those who are left are, I understand, very old, and seldom travel far from their homes.”

  He was appraising her almost as if she was a horse and he was sizing up her points.

  Then he said,

  “I understand you are a widow. I presume you are looking for another husband.”

  Vida managed to answer in a soft voice,

  “I hope, one day, Your Majesty, that I shall find somebody I can love and who will love me.”

  “Love?” the Czar exclaimed sharply. “What you want, you foolish woman, is security and a man who can protect you.”

  “I hope I may be lucky enough to find one, Your Majesty,” Vida answered.

  He walked away from her as if he thought that any further conversation was a waste of time.

  Making desperate efforts not to look towards the Prince, Vida talked to an elderly woman who was seated on a nearby sofa.

  When the guests who had come from outside the Palace started to leave, she saw the Prince standing alone at the end of the room and wondered if she dared go to his side.

  As if because she was thinking of him he became aware of her, he turned to gaze at her and for a moment their eyes met.

  Then before she could tell what he was feeling or thinking, he looked away and deliberately walked to the side of Princess Eudoxia, who was saying farewell to one of the departing guests.

  To Vida it was as if he was telling her pointedly that he had no further use for her and for a moment she felt the room swim round her and everything go blank.

  Then her pride made her force away the faintness that was beginning to seep over her and, picking up a glass that she saw on a side table, she drank from it.

  She had no idea if it contained water or wine or even poison for that matter.

  While she felt some of the weakness fade, she was aware that it would be wise for her to go to her bedroom.

  She passed one or two people who were saying good night to their host at the door.

  Then, just as she reached the Prince of Kiev and was about to make her excuses for retiring early, Princess Eudoxia walked towards her.

  “I understand, Countess,” she said, “that you are leaving tomorrow and so, of course, I must say farewell.”

  Vida curtseyed.

  “Goodbye, Your Highness.”

  “I hope it really is goodbye,” the Princess said in a low voice that only she could hear. “I shall make every effort, Countess, to see that we do not meet again.”

  There was venom in her voice and in the expression of her eyes and Vida did not reply.

  She merely curtseyed a little deeper than she had before, hoping the Princess was aware that she was being deliberately sarcastic in doing so and then said goodnight to her host.

  When she reached her bedroom, she felt as if the ceiling had crashed down on her head and the whole future was dark.

  Only as she started to undress did the tears come running down her cheeks and she felt as if each one of them was a drop of blood from her heart.

  Now, surprised by what Margit had said, Vida asked,

  “Who told you we were leaving today?”

  “I was told so by one of the Palace servants,” Margit replied. “He said that a carriage would be waitin’ to take us to the railway station at one o’clock.”

  Vida did not answer and Margit went on.

  “The servant informed me that there would be luncheon arranged for us here at noon, but as we are travellin’ in His Highness’s train there will be plenty to eat and very much better food than in this place!”

  Vida’s eyes were wide as she asked,

  “How do you know we are travelling in His Highnesses train?”

  “His valet told me,” Margit answered.

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “Yes, he said that the Czar with the Prince and Princess Eudoxia were being shown round the Monastery of the Caves and would not be back for luncheon.

  Vida knew that the Monastery of the Caves was one of the sights of Kiev and all the Princes of Kiev were buried in the very ancient Church belonging to the Monastery.

  When she read about it, she had thought that it was something she would like to see, but there was now no hope of that.

  At the same time she was grateful to the Prince, even if he was no longer interested in her, for making sure that her exit from Russia would be in comfort.

  It was an agony to remember how happy she had been with him when they had travelled together in his train to Kiev.

  She remembered he had said that there were other things he wanted to say to her on the return journey.

  But now she was returning alone, while he would be in Kiev and after that in St. Petersburg with his beautiful bride-to-be.

  ‘He is just a meteor flashing through my life as Papa said he would be,’ Vida thought, ‘and I
was very foolish to think that a meteor could stop long enough – even for me to tell him that – I love him.’

  She felt the tears come again into her eyes and lay back against the pillows.

  Because she was so silent, Margit was a little worried and went to the side of the bed.

  “Now, what are you upsettin’ yourself about, Miss Vida?” she asked. “If it’s His Highness, just forget him!”

  Vida merely closed her eyes and made no reply.

  “His valet tells me,” Margit went on, “that Princess Eudoxia has been determined to marry him for the last year, ‘chasin’ him as if he was a wild stag’, was how he put it.”

  “I don’t wish to hear about it,” Vida murmured.

  “All right, have it your own way,” Margit said. “But as you well know, no Nobleman of any rank in this country can marry without the Czar’s permission and if on the other hand His Majesty says they’re to marry, there’s no question of anyone sayin’ no to him.”

  “I am aware of – that.”

  Vida felt as she spoke that her voice was coming from a long distance away.

  A little later she pulled herself out of bed and, after she had had a bath, she felt a little better.

  She washed her face, then put on the cosmetics she used as the Countess Kărólski, thinking that it was for the last time.

  She did not put on the spectacular travelling gown she had worn to arrive in, but wore instead one of her own pretty gowns which had a light coat to go over it and a bonnet trimmed with flowers rather than feathers.

  “You look strange in those clothes with your face painted like an actress!” Margit remarked.

  “I know,” Vida said. “As soon as we go on the train, I shall wash it off and be myself. I am sick of deception and lies and being afraid to speak.”

  “So am I,” Margit agreed. “The best thing we can do, Miss Vida, is to go straight back to England and make the Master behave himself!”

  Vida laughed.

  “We should have to work very hard to do that! Don’t forget, Margit, he is to be our Ambassador in Paris, so that we will be in a very gay City and doubtless one full of intrigues.”

  Margit sniffed.

  At the same time Vida knew she was thinking that France was a very different place from Russia and at least they would not be afraid every moment of encountering the Secret Police.

  Thinking there was no point in going downstairs if everybody staying in the house was out to luncheon, Margit had the food brought to the boudoir next to her bedroom.

  It was quite appetising, but Vida felt as if every mouthful would choke her. Only out of politeness did she help herself to a little of what the footmen offered her and took a few sips of wine.

  When it was time to go, she walked down the stairs followed by Margit and found as she expected a closed carriage waiting for them.

  One of the Prince’s aides-de-camp saw her off and she asked him to thank His Highness for his hospitality and to say how much she had enjoyed herself.

  Then she and Margit drove away and they had hardly spoken a word before they reached the railway station.

  Vida knew when they saw the Prince’s magnificent white and red train waiting for them that Margit was delighted to travel in such style.

  The ordinary trains in Russia, unless there was a special coach attached for them, were reputedly uncomfortable and often dirty.

  Henri was waiting on the platform with some Palace officials and there were, of course, the usual number of the Prince’s servants wearing his livery.

  There was everything to make Vida comfortable and, as soon as she sat down in the drawing room car, she was offered champagne and caviar, both of which she refused.

  It seemed a long time before they started and Henri explained that, as the Prince’s train was unscheduled, they had to wait for the line to be clear before they could leave.

  When at last the engine puffed slowly out of the station, the servants from the Palace bowing as they left, Vida went to the bedroom she had used before to remove her bonnet.

  As she told Margit she would do, she washed her face, feeling, as she did so, that she was washing away the last evidence of the wild adventure which had brought her to Russia to rescue her father.

  She had succeeded – of course she had succeeded, but at the cost of losing her heart and loving a man who she knew had spoilt her for every other man in the world.

  ‘I suppose now I shall never marry,’ she thought wistfully.

  The train gathered speed and with every throb of the wheels she felt that her heart was saying goodbye to the Prince.

  She must have looked very pale and drawn, for Margit insisted that she should lie down on the bed and rest.

  “There’s nothin’ for you to do but look out of the window,” she said, “and the landscape isn’t any different from how it looked when we came here yesterday.”

  “Was it only yesterday?” Vida murmured.

  She was thinking that centuries might have passed since she had sat in the drawing room car and felt herself thrill at everything the Prince said to her and known a wild excitement from the touch of his hand.

  “I will lie down, Margit,” she said hastily, thinking perhaps she would sleep and that way have some peace.

  She took off her slippers and lay down on the bed.

  But it was impossible to sleep and she found herself seeing with closed eyes the Prince’s face and hearing his voice.

  She thought over every word he had ever said to her.

  Then she felt his lips against hers and wondered wildly why she had been so foolish as to send him away from her bedroom when he had wanted to make love to her.

  ‘At least I would have had that to remember,’ she thought now.

  Then she was ashamed of forgetting her principles, her mother’s teaching and her belief in what was right and wrong.

  “It’s over! It’s over!” she could hear the wheels clanking, as if they must keep repeating the words to impress them on her memory.

  *

  Vida must have dozed for a while, for she was awoken by Margit standing beside the bed saying that the servants were wondering if she was ready for dinner.

  “Is it really as late as that, Margit?” Vida asked.

  “It’s getting’ on, Miss Vida, and if you’ll take my advice, you’ll have somethin’ to eat and then let me put you to bed. We’ve a long way to go, so the Stewards tell me.”

  Vida wanted to ask which town in Hungary they were going to.

  She knew that the Russian trains did not go to Sarospatak. Otherwise she would have taken a train to the Prince’s castle rather than travel by carriage.

  It was too much trouble to work it all out and she merely agreed to what Margit advised and went into the drawing room car.

  The Prince’s servants brought her a really delicious dinner.

  But again she was not hungry, although rather than disappoint the chef, who she was sure had made a great effort on her behalf, she tried to eat a little of everything she was offered.

  Darkness came swiftly and the curtains were pulled over the windows, so that she could no longer see whether they were still in wooded country or passing over the flat fertile ground that the Prince had pointed out to her on their way to Kiev.

  But she was not really interested and, when Margit helped her to undress, without thinking she put on one of her pretty nightgowns and her negligée and sat down beside the bed.

  “Now, go to sleep, Miss Vida,” Margit said. “I’m going to my own carriage and, if you’re not tired, I am!”

  “You look tired,” Vida said, “so don’t worry about me. Think about yourself for a change.”

  “I’ll do that when we’re safely over the border!” Margit retorted.

  Strangely enough, when Margit had left her, Vida did not get into bed.

  Instead, she went back into the drawing room car and sat down on the sofa.

  It was where she had sat with the Prince, and she fe
lt almost as if he was there beside her and she could tell him what she was feeling.

  Once again she was thinking back over the things he had said to her, the feelings he had evoked in her and it was some time later that she realised that the train had come to a standstill.

  She supposed that once again they were waiting until the line was clear or perhaps a train travelling towards Kiev had to pass them first.

  But when the train had stopped she no longer felt haunted by the sound of the wheels.

  The lights in the car had been dimmed before the servants left, but it was still easy to see how tastefully it was furnished and how luxurious it was.

  ‘It is part of the perfection he is always seeking,’ Vida thought with a faint smile.

  It was at that moment that she heard the sound of horses galloping and thought it was strange that anybody should be in such a hurry.

  The sound came nearer and then stopped abruptly outside her carriage.

  It was then with a sense of fear that she wondered if it was the Secret Police who had just arrived.

  Could the Princess Eudoxia, in her jealousy of her, have perhaps discovered in some way that she was not who she appeared to be?

  Had the Secret Police decided that she should be subjected to one of their interrogations?

  The terror of it struck through Vida like a flaming sword.

  She heard voices, but she could not move. Anyway, if she wished to hide, there was nowhere she could go and she clasped her hands together until the knuckles showed white.

  Then she heard the outer door of the drawing room car open and footsteps in the passage that led to the inner door.

  Somebody came into the car and for a moment she dared not look – she dared not even breathe.

  Then, as if she were forced to turn her head, she looked round.

  Standing looking at her was the Prince!

  For a second Vida thought that she must be dreaming. Then, as he came towards her, she gave a little cry that seemed to be strangled in her throat.

  He drew nearer still, and now, as if she suddenly came alive, Vida rose to her feet.

  “You are – here!” she managed to say in a voice that did not sound like her own. “B-but – why have you – come – ? Is something – wrong?”