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Authors: Barbara Cartland

BOOK: A Dangerous Disguise
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Lady Cadwick removed the order and handed it to Greta.

"Princess Ola must wear this at the banquet and ball tomorrow night," she said.

Greta nodded and put the decoration away carefully.

When they were alone, Ola told her about the arrangements for the rest of the day, and Greta smiled.

"We will be all right now the Duke has taken charge," she said.

"Greta, we have to stop thinking of him as a friend. All the time I thought he was – " her voice shook, but she forced herself to recover, "all that time, he was going back to this terrible man to report everything we said or did."

"But you cannot blame him for that," Greta pointed out reasonably. "If he realised right from the start that you were an impostor, what was he supposed to do?"

"I don't know. It's just that when I think of the things he said to me, and I said to him – "

"You never really told me what happened that first night you went out with him," Greta observed hopefully.

Ola sighed.

"It doesn't matter now. It's over and done with. Let's plan what we're going to wear this afternoon."

"I'm really going too? Wouldn't you and he rather be together?"

"And leave you alone here, trembling every time there was a knock on the door? You were distinctly nervous, I recall."

"Yes, but not now. Nothing will happen while we're under the Duke's protection. I know you're not friends with him any more, but he has to keep us safe or be in trouble with the Queen. I'm happy to stay here so that you two can talk and sort it out."

"I'm a Princess," Ola said. "I don't go out without my lady-in-waiting."

As she spoke an expression of stubbornness settled on her face that Greta had never seen before. It was as though Ola had become somebody else.

At three o'clock precisely the Duke was waiting for them below. He bowed to Ola and greeted Greta graciously. Although he had not wanted her to come, his good nature prevented him from revealing this in his manner.

Also, he was beginning to feel that, since Ola was clearly not going to soften towards him, a third person might be useful.

As they drove towards Hyde Park he said,

"The two of you have a great deal to learn before tomorrow night. You must know about Oltenitza, as it will be fatal if anyone catches you out. You should, for instance, know about the port of Rizena, on the Aegean Sea, through which much of the county's prosperity comes."

"You mean, it isn't land locked?" asked Ola, recalling her own blunder with a wry smile.

"No, Your Royal Highness. In fact, I suggest that you travelled from that port."

"Oh yes," she agreed. "I remember telling you so."

"Indeed you did. I believe you also mentioned that your brother Piers and your sister Ludmilla came to see you off, before returning to their home in Hollentot Castle."

And she had claimed to be an only child.

Although the Duke had told Ola that he had seen through her from the start, it was only at this moment that it became real to her.

She had been so sure that she could treat this as a game, with no idea of the powerful forces ranged against her. So she had blundered and blundered, and now she felt incredibly foolish.

She had blamed John for betraying her to Danson, but the truth was a thousand times worse.

How he must have laughed at her!

While she had been losing her heart to a man who seemed charming and warm-hearted, he had actually been enjoying the joke against her.

She felt she could bear anything but his derision.

She closed her eyes against the pain that swept over her. Now she opened them again and faced him with cool dignity. It was the only way she could bear it.

"Naturally they came to see me off," she said. "After which, they returned to the Castle, and were then trapped there by the Russians, where they have been ever since."

"How do you know this?" he said quickly. "It happened after you left."

"You told me," she replied. "When I arrived here, you informed me of the misfortune that had befallen my country."

"And advised you to remain here where you are safe, rather than yielding to your understandable desire to return home and help your family and your countrymen," he supplied.

"Yes, that was it. I realised that my best course was to stay here and seek the help of Her Majesty."

"Well done."

"But wait. How did you know about my family's fate."

"There are agents in the field who send back information to appropriate sources."

"Ah yes!" she said with an air of remembering. "Sir Bernard Danson is so excellent at his job, is he not? So accurate."

"Sir Bernard is an ambitious man," the Duke said through gritted teeth. "It sometimes leads him to jump to conclusions."

"But of course he can only act on the information presented to him," Ola pointed out sweetly. "And so much must depend on the way it is presented."

After a sulphurous silence the Duke asked,

"May I enquire if Your Royal Highness meant anything particular by that remark?"

The 'Princess' regarded him with an imperious eye.

"Let us merely say that he is probably not the only man who may sometimes exaggerate," she told him.

After that, not another word was said until he returned Ola and Greta to the hotel, and informed them, in a colourless voice, that he would call for them both at seven.

"I have a special treat for you tonight, for I'm taking you to the theatre," he explained. "Lady Krasler, do you manage to see theatrical performances very often?"

"I have never seen one," said Greta in a thrilled voice.

"Then I shall look forward to your enjoyment. Good day, Your Royal Highness."

Ola climbed the stairs seething. She had half formed the intention of taking Greta at her word and going without her that evening.

Now the Duke had made that impossible, and it crossed her mind that he had done it on purpose.

Now it was he who did not want to be alone with her.

*

Greta was so delighted at her first visit to the theatre that Ola was determined not to spoil it for her, and did her best to enter into the spirit of the occasion.

They helped to dress each other, for now Greta could wear one of the silk dresses Ola had bought her on the first day.

Ola's own gown was a very pale yellow silk, which threw her auburn hair into dramatic relief. But choosing jewels for it was a problem.

Her mother's jewels were of good quality, and had seemed suitable until then. But the diamond tiara she had borrowed from Lady Cadwick had been on a different level entirely. That, Ola now realised, was how royalty should dress, and she could not do so.

"I can't wear pearls with this colour," she said. "I need something warm."

"There are your garnets," Greta said, sounding doubtful. Garnets could never compete with diamonds.

Ola made a face.

"Yes. My garnets. Oh dear."

There was a knock on the outer door. Greta went to answer it and Ola heard the Duke's voice. She hastened out of her room.

He was splendid in white tie and tails, a crimson satin lined opera cloak over his shoulders.

He bowed.

"Forgive me for coming early Your Royal Highness," he said, "but I wanted you to look at these. I believe they would be suitable for you to wear."

He was carrying a black velvet box, such as was usually used to carry jewels, except that this was larger than usual. Before their astonished eyes he opened it out onto the table.

Both women gasped.

Inside was the most fabulous set of emeralds and diamonds that they had ever seen.

There was a tiara, a heavy, two strand necklace, earrings, a bracelet, a ring. They were more than merely beautiful and expensive. They were luxurious, fabulous, exotic, glorious.

They were jewels for a Princess.

"I guessed well," the Duke remarked. "They will be perfect with that gown."

"But – where do they come from?" Ola breathed.

"They belong to my family."

"Then I can't wear them," she said at once. "They must be well known and will be recognised."

"Not at all. My mother wore them once thirty years ago. Since then no other woman has worn them. They were lodged in the bank's vaults, where they have remained ever since. I promise you, nobody will know them."

The emeralds and diamonds gleamed and glistened like stars, tempting her.

"It is essential that you wear them," the Duke said firmly.

While she still hesitated, he lifted the necklace and went to stand behind her. He was eight inches taller than Ola and it was easy for him to drape it around her neck. She felt his fingers lightly touching her, then the jewels cold against her skin.

He stepped back to allow Greta to fit on the ear-rings, then the tiara, the bracelet.

A truly magnificent woman looked back at Ola from the mirror.

Slowly she rose and began to move about the room, trying to accustom herself to the weight of the jewellery. When she felt a little more confident she turned.

The Duke was regarding her with a look in his eyes that she did not understand. He seemed thunderstruck.

"Not every woman can wear magnificent jewels," he said. "But you do them justice."

"You think they will help me play my part convincingly?" Ola asked.

He seemed to come out of a dream.

"Your part – yes, indeed. You will play your part perfectly, I know. Now ladies, shall we be on our way?"

 CHAPTER EIGHT

On the journey the Duke told them they were going to the Savoy Theatre, to see a performance of Princess Ida by Gilbert & Sullivan.

"It's an operetta," he explained, "about a Princess who decides she doesn't want to marry, so she founds a university of like-minded ladies, and withdraws from the world."

"What's the point of that?" demanded Greta, scandalised.

The Duke grinned.

"It makes the Prince chase after her, and fight to win her hand."

"That's all right, then," said Greta, sounding satisfied. "It doesn't do to give the gentlemen too easy a time."

The Duke gave Ola a wry look.

"I know somebody who agrees with you," he said.

The 'Princess' loftily disdained to answer this, looking out of the carriage at the street, where she was attracting much attention. People gaped at her glittering jewels and her regal manner.

She was getting into the way of it now, and could adopt a majestic air. So she sat there, looking royal, wondering if the Duke thought her beautiful, and castigating herself for caring.

It was only a short journey to the Savoy Theatre and soon she was being handed down the carriage steps to sweep into the theatre, her hand lightly on the Duke's arm, with 'Lady Krasler' bringing up the rear in stately fashion.

It occurred to her that Greta was enjoying all this. She would have enjoyed it herself if her heart had not been aching.

The manager of the theatre bowed before 'Princess Ola' who inclined her head graciously.

"The Royal box is ready for Your Highness."

The box was large and elegant, with chairs of gilt and plush. In deference to the rule that royalty arrives last, the rest of the audience were already present, and as the box protruded into the auditorium they all had a clear view of Her Royal Highness advancing to the front.

What they did not see was the Duke of Camborne gently taking hold of her elbow to prevent her from sitting too soon, or hear his murmur of,

"Keep standing while they play your national anthem."

She remained still, her head high on her long neck, while the orchestra played 'her' national anthem. The Savoy Theatre was famed as the first public building in London to use electric light, and now that light winked and sparkled off the Camborne diamonds and emeralds.

Down below the crowd 'oohed' and 'aahed' at the beauty of a Princess who looked exactly how a Princess ought to look. And when the music finished they applauded her.

She smiled and acknowledged the tribute. Then the Duke drew out a chair for her to sit, took his place beside her, and the lights went down.

Afterwards she could never remember any details of the performance. All she was aware of was the Duke, sitting close. She could hear his voice when he laughed, and sometimes she thought he was looking at her, not the operetta.

The force of his look made her tremble, and she longed to speak to him, to find the words that would end their quarrel.

But there were no such words.

She could never blot out the memory of his kiss, and her own passionate response to it, and all the while he had been reporting back to British Intelligence.

One part of her she knew she was being unreasonable. After all, it was she who had started everything and as Greta had said, what else could he have done?

But this had nothing to do with reason. This was a matter for the heart. And her heart felt betrayed and disillusioned.

After the performance he took them both to dine in a fashionable restaurant, where once again Ola received stares and admiration.

"You would think they had never seen royalty before," she observed.

"Yes, but you look like royalty, and many of the real ones don't," said the Duke with a grin.

She noticed that he spoke with perfect composure, and seemed not in the least troubled by the coolness between them.

Perhaps he did not care.

Perhaps it even suited him.

When their food had been served he spoke in a businesslike fashion.

"We need to settle the details for tomorrow. It's the great day of the celebrations, the day when Her Majesty rides in state to Westminster Abbey for the service of Thanksgiving. I shall be on duty and unable to be with you, so I wish you both to remain at the hotel."

"Certainly," said Greta obediently.

"There is no certainly about it," Ola said at once. "Perhaps I should like to go out and watch the procession to the Abbey."

"No," said the Duke at once.

"In other words, I'm still under suspicion," Ola flashed.

"My dear," Greta protested. "The Duke knows best. He's only thinking of your welfare."

"No, he's thinking I might assassinate the Queen on her journey. Don't be fooled by all this, Greta. He still doesn't trust me."

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