Princes and Princesses: Favourite Royal Romances

by Barbara Cartland

  “I shall not be long,” the Duke replied vaguely, “and you have plenty of partners without me.”

  There was no denying this, although the Duke suspected that the Princes would rather relax as they were doing at the moment on comfortable sofas reading English, French and Turkish newspapers which they found absorbingly interesting.

  When they were not amusing Dolly and Nancy, they plied the Duke and Harry with questions about the state of Europe, social and political conditions after the war, everything in fact, that had happened of which they had no knowledge whatsoever.

  “Quite frankly,” the Duke heard Harry say, “the politicians have made a mess of the peace,” and he thought unhappily that was very true.

  But for the moment he was concerned with Princess Militsa and, as he went down below to the Grand Duke’s cabin, he was wondering what would be the best way to approach her and make her realise that her pride was unnecessary.

  When he reached the cabin, Dawkins was just coming out with a tray in his hands.

  He stood aside to make way and the Duke walked in saying,

  “I hope Your Royal Highness will allow me to visit you?”

  The Grand Duke, who was sitting up in bed, propped up against his pillows, smiled in response.

  The Princess who had been sitting by his bedside, rose to her feet and the Duke thought that there was not only no welcome in her eyes but definitely an expression he recognised.

  It gave him a strange feeling to know there was a woman, any woman, who actually hated him.

  He was so used to seeing a gleam of admiration when a woman looked at him and one that told him only too clearly that she wished to attract him.

  Now it was almost like being plunged into cold water to find that here was someone very different.

  He walked towards the bed.

  “I hope Your Royal Highness is feeling better.”

  “I cannot tell you what a delight it is,” the Grand Duke replied, “to sleep between linen sheets and on a comfortable mattress.”

  The Duke sat down on the chair the Princess had vacated.

  “I found in the war,” he said, “although my experiences were certainly not as traumatic as yours, that it was the little things I missed which I had always taken for granted until I was suddenly deprived of them.”

  The Grand Duke smiled and the Duke turned to look at the Princess.

  “I hope Your Serene Highness has everything you require?”

  “Everything,” she replied in a low voice.

  The Duke realised that she was wearing the worn dress that Nancy had described to him.

  He could see that it was threadbare in many places, darned until the stuff itself had frayed away to nothing and the colour that had once been a deep blue was nothing more than drab grey.

  It was a very simple gown made with a “V” neck, which must once have had a white collar. It hung straight to the ground with the exception of a wide belt.

  It struck him that it was a very young girl’s dress and he remembered that the Princess had been only thirteen when the Revolution started.

  He would not have known this if one of the Princes had not mentioned that she was a year older than the Czarevich and the Duke had realised that she was now twenty-two.

  For six miserable years when she should have been enjoying herself as young girls did while still in the schoolroom and then emerging as debutantes, she had instead been fighting to stay alive.

  Now she stood on the other side of her father’s bed and looking at her the Duke realised that Harry had been right when he said that she was beautiful.

  There was nothing pretty about her, nothing of the chocolate box pink-and-white, gold and blue that made Dolly the personification of an ‘English Rose’.

  Instead she had an ageless classical beauty that the Greeks had tried to portray in their statues of Goddesses.

  Her face was thin, her cheekbones seemed almost as if they might burst through her skin and yet with her oval forehead and her huge eyes she had an unworldly mystical beauty that he had never seen before.

  He noticed that over her drab dress she wore a shawl, which surprised him because it was dark red in colour and looked new.

  He remembered that Nancy had said she wished only to wear her own clothes and so he thought it strange.

  Then, when he looked at the shawl again, trying to conceal that he was doing so, he realised that it was one of the cloths that covered the small tables in the Saloon.

  He thought Dawkins must have provided it for her and he realised that, because there was nothing personal about it, the Princess had accepted it while she would not accept the clothes that had been worn by an Englishwoman.

  “Tell me what is happening in England,” the Grand Duke asked.

  The Duke knew that here was yet another guest who was eager to have news of what had occurred in the world he had been so isolated from.

  He told His Royal Highness everything he wanted to know.

  Then when he was still talking he saw the Grand Duke’s eyes close and realised that, old and tired, he had fallen asleep.

  The Princess had moved to a far corner of the room where she was sitting, the Duke thought deliberately, on an upright chair, and, while he had been speaking to her father, he could feel the vibrations coming from her as they had when she had driven beside him in the car.

  He did not turn his head to look at her, but he was conscious of her nevertheless in a manner he could not explain.

  Now he rose to his feet and she came quickly to the bedside, putting her fingers to her lips in case he should speak to her.

  She pulled the satin cover over her father’s hands and the Duke knew that, however warm the cabin was, the Grand Duke in his emaciated state, would still feel the cold.

  He walked towards the door and, when he reached it, he deliberately stood waiting until the Princess turned her head to see why he had not left.

  Then he beckoned to her.

  He knew as she stared at him that she did not wish to obey his summons.

  He opened the door and beckoned her again and, as if it was impossible for her to refuse, she came from the cabin into the passage outside.

  “I want to speak to you,” the Duke began.

  “I cannot leave my – father.”

  The Duke had expected this reply and he had already noticed that Dawkins was in an empty cabin next door with the door open.

  He did not answer the Princess.

  He merely said to the valet in a low voice,

  “Will you stay with His Royal Highness, Dawkins, until Her Serene Highness returns?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  It was impossible for the Princess to make any further objections and the Duke led the way to his own special cabin, knowing as he did so, that she was following him reluctantly.

  He entered it and he wondered if she was thinking of the first time they met each other when she had brought Prince Ivan’s letter and insisted on seeing him personally despite everything that Stevens had tried to do to prevent her intrusion.

  The Duke indicated one of the comfortable chairs.

  “Will you sit down?” he invited.

  The Princess obeyed, sitting not comfortably but very upright and very straight-backed on the edge of the chair, her hands in her lap.

  Her dark hair was swept back from her forehead into a large roll at the nape of her neck.

  It was not in the least fashionable and a complete contrast to the fluffed out curls that decorated Dolly’s head, a style that was also followed by Nancy.

  And yet, the Duke reflected, that there was a lightness about her appearance which, strangely enough, was not spoilt by her dress or the worn slippers he saw peeping beneath the far-too-long skirt.

  It suddenly struck him as a connoisseur of women’s fashions that the reason she sat so primly was to hide her ankles because she wore no stockings.

  He remembered noticing the night he first saw her that under her ragged skirt
her legs were bound with strips of material almost as if they were bandaged.

  It was how the Russian peasants kept out the cold and he was sure now that she could not afford to buy stockings and therefore used her long dress to conceal her naked legs.

  It seemed inconceivable that any woman could be so proud when after the years of destitution she had been offered gowns in the very latest fashion.

  But there was a stormy expression in the Princess’s eyes that told him that, like her countrymen in battle, she would rather die than surrender or in this case lower her principles.

  “I want to talk to you about your father,” the Duke said aloud.

  The expression on the Princess’s face softened immediately.

  “I feel sure,” he went on, “that with good food and careful nursing he will soon look as he did when I last saw him in St. Petersburg, one of the most handsome and outstanding men in the whole Court.”

  “He is very – weak,” the Princess said in a low voice.

  “That is understandable,” the Duke agreed, “but, when we reach Alexandria, he must see the best doctor available and you will be able to find out if there is anything wrong that cannot be healed by time and care.”

  The Princess did not speak, but the Duke could read her thoughts and knew that she was wondering how they could afford the services of the best doctor.

  He wanted to tell her to stop worrying and leave everything to him, but instead he said,

  “I also want to talk to you about yourself.”

  He saw the Princess stiffen and the hostility was back in her face.

  “I understand,” the Duke said, picking his words carefully, “that you refused Lady Radstock’s offer to lend you anything you required. I am only hoping that does not extend to refusing the use of an overcoat should you wish to go out on deck.”

  Now he waited for a reply and after a moment, almost as if it was dragged from her lips, the Princess said,

  “I have to – look after my – father.”

  “Of course,” the Duke agreed, “at the same time you cannot be so foolish as not to realise that you need fresh air and a certain amount of exercise.”

  He felt that she was going to tell him politely to mind his own business, but he went on,

  “While I am perfectly prepared to nurse one invalid, you must be aware that it would be extremely inconvenient to have two on my hands.”

  “I will not – inconvenience you, Your Grace,” the Princess said.

  “How can you be sure of that?” the Duke asked. “When one is weak from want of food and does not properly wrap up, it is very easy to contract pneumonia. I am only pointing out to Your Serene Highness that, as your party has added to the number of people my servants have to wait on, I would prefer you to remain in good health.”

  He knew that the Princess was surprised at the way he spoke to her, but he hoped because it was good sound sense that there was nothing she could do but acquiesce.

  However, he had already thought out a way to save her pride and now he said,

  “I suppose I can understand to a certain extend your reluctance to accept anything, however small, from those you look on as your enemies, but I have a solution to that problem.”

  Although what he said startled her, she did not refute it and the Duke continued,

  “As women servants are usually a nuisance on a yacht and more prone to seasickness then men, neither Lady Chatham nor Lady Radstock have brought lady’s maids with them.”

  He saw the Princess’s eyes flicker but he went on,

  “As we have been away from England for some weeks, I imagine that they have quite a number of things that require mending and I thought in return for the loan of Lady Radstock’s coat and doubtless a scarf to put over your head, you could repay her by mending anything she requires while you are sitting at your father’s bedside.”

  There was silence.

  Then the Princess said,

  “I cannot imagine why Your Grace should – concern yourself with – me.”

  “Whether you like it or not, Your Serene Highness is my guest,” the Duke said, “and because I am a perfectionist I like everything that concerns my household to run smoothly. As I have already said, your illness would be a great inconvenience.”

  “I have no wish to – inconvenience you, but I will not – ”

  She ceased speaking and the Duke finished the sentence by saying,

  “ – accept charity from the English.”

  “I did not say – that!” she exclaimed quickly.

  “It is what you are thinking.”

  “How do – you know what I am – thinking?”

  “For one thing your eyes are very expressive,” the Duke answered, “and for another, although I cannot explain it, I am aware that despite yourself, you are enjoying the comfort of my yacht although resenting my being its owner.”

  The Princess looked distinctly startled.

  He knew that he had hit upon the truth and was surprised that he had been able to do so.

  Then she said fiercely,

  “I will not beg. It is something we have managed not to do this past six years.”

  “Lady Radstock told me that you worked for your food,” the Duke said, “but accepting my hospitality is rather different from taking bread from those who perhaps needed it for themselves.”

  The Princess did not reply and he guessed that she was brooding over her belief that the English had been responsible for the death of the Czar and his family.

  “None of us can relive the past,” he said quickly, “nor can we change what has already happened, but the future is in our hands.”

  He saw by the expression on her face that the future as she saw it was almost as bleak as the past had been.

  She was thinking that to arrive in Egypt with her father so ill and without money was to live again the privations and the uncertainty of the past years, the only difference being that they were no longer in danger of being captured and killed by the Bolsheviks.

  The Duke wanted to say that he would ensure that the future was not as frightening as she anticipated, but he knew that if he said anything of the sort she would instantly become antagonistic.

  “What I am going to suggest to you,” he said, “is that for the moment you forget your worries about the future and concentrate exclusively on the present. Try to enjoy yourself day by day, hour by hour, and for the moment at any rate accept an armistice between yourself and the English. You can hardly take on the whole nation single-handed.”

  “You are laughing at me!” the Princess said sharply.

  “On the contrary I am understanding what you feel and I think if our roles were reversed I should feel very much the same.”

  His voice was stern as he added,

  “Of course you are outraged that your cousins were assassinated in that cruel brutal manner and if they had received asylum in England they would be alive today!”

  He thought she was surprised that he was so frank, but he continued,

  “But you must be intelligent enough to realise that one’s view of events at the time they happen may change fundamentally when they are seen in retrospect. I am sure that at the beginning of the Revolution nobody anticipated for one moment that the Bolsheviks would gain power.”

  He made a gesture with his hand as he finished,

  “Who would have imagined that Lenin and Trotsky would gain control of the All-Russia Congress of the Soviets and overthrow the Provisional Government?”

  “Even then,” the Princess said in a low voice, “there was a – chance that the Czar and Czarina could have been – saved.”

  The Duke in fact thought that by then the British Government, even if willing, could not have negotiated with Lenin concerning the safety of the Imperial Family.

  He was remembering how they had been taken to Tobolsk in Siberia where they were imprisoned and the following year, 1918, were put on soldiers’ rations which put an end to all luxuries such as coffee, b
utter and sugar.

  Three months later that they were told they would have to go on a long trip to a destination that was secret.

  The Duke had heard that the journey was a nightmare of discomfort.

  The Royal Family had to travel two hundred miles in the bitter cold in peasant carts. For forty hours they moved over treacherous roads, wheels broke and several times the horses were up to their chests in water when crossing rivers.

  The world outside Russia was assured that the Imperial Family were safe, but in fact the Bolsheviks led by Lenin had no intention of allowing the Romanovs to escape.

  They were treated abominably by their new guards. These were hard-line Communists, factory workers, who aped the behaviour of their drunken foul-mouthed leaders.

  The young Princesses were not allowed to shut their bedroom doors or to have any privacy whatsoever and their guards made a point of taking their meals with the family in order to shock them by plunging their dirty hands into the communal dishes.

  In July their duties were taken over by members of the Secret Police.

  Twelve days later the Royal Family were awakened at midnight and told that the White Army was approaching.

  They were to dress quickly and come downstairs because a fleet of cars would soon be arriving to take them away.

  They were assembled in a small basement room, where the Emperor and Empress were given chairs and behind them stood the four Princesses and their brother, the Czarevich, and next to them their servants.

  The Secret Police entered the room, all heavily armed.

  The Czar was killed by the first bullet, the Czarina a second later and in the hail of lead that followed the Princesses and their brother died quickly.

  The rest of the party were all bayoneted, including the Princess Anastasia, who was only stunned when shot and then had half-a-dozen bayonets driven into her body.

  The scene, which shocked the world when it learnt what had happened, flashed through the Duke’s mind and as it did so he sensed that the Princess could read his thoughts as he had read hers.

  He rose from his chair and walked across the cabin to the porthole.

  He stood looking out at the sea and he heard the Princess say behind him,

  “Your country could have – saved them.”