A Dangerous Disguise (6 page)

Her heart was beating wildly.

"Are you going to?" she whispered.

His hand tightened on hers.

"No," he said. "It's too soon. But I warn you, tomorrow I may not think that it's too soon. Perhaps you should beware."

She smiled at him in the dim light of the carriage.

"I am not afraid," she said. "Perhaps it is you who should be afraid."

"I am. I feel as though I've been caught up in something strange and mysterious, something over which I have no control. Do you feel that way too?"

"Yes," she murmured. "Oh yes."

And then she realised that the carriage had stopped. The journey was over.

He came inside the hotel with her, as far as the foot of the stairs.

"Goodnight," he said, pressing her hand. "I do hope you sleep well."

"I doubt if I will," she said. "I have too many things to think about."

He nodded.

"Until tomorrow," he murmured.

Then he turned quickly and left her there.

Walking up the stairs, Ola felt it had all been a dream.

'How can this possibly have happened?' she asked herself. 'And what will become of me? One day, just as I've appeared unexpectedly, so I'll have to disappear. To me this is a dream come true. But to him it will be a dream soon forgotten.'

Greta was waiting up for her.

"Well?" she demanded eagerly. "What happened? Did he suspect anything?"

Ola shook her head, her eyes shining.

"You actually got away with it?" Greta breathed. "I thought he would see through you, if you had to talk for a long time."

"He talked most of the time. I just listened."

"Well, thank goodness that's over. You mustn't take such a risk again."

"I'm seeing him tomorrow," Ola said dreamily.

"What?"

"He's going to show me the sights."

"Which means that more people will meet you, and the more who hear you called a Princess, the more who may suspect something."

"No, we're pretending that I'm Fraulein Schmidt."

Greta stared.

"Are you telling me," she said in a dazed voice, "that you will be a commoner, pretending to be a Princess who is pretending to be a commoner?"

"Yes."

"You have taken leave of your senses."

"Oh yes," Ola sighed. "I've known that for the last two hours."

"My dear, you frighten me."

"Don't be frightened. I'm not. I'm not going to let myself be scared. It's no way to live."

"But how far can this go? What happens when he has to know the truth?"

"I don't know. I don't want to think about that."

"But if you're falling in l- "

Greta was silenced by Ola's hand over her mouth.

"Hush! Don't say it. I just want to enjoy this time, however short it is."

She would not say any more while Greta helped her to undress, and brushed out her hair. But deep inside she was troubled.

'How will he ever forgive me for deceiving him?' she thought.

When she thought of the Duke, there was a little sob in her heart. She was doing something wrong and she felt she should run away.

Then she told herself that nothing and no one could stop her seeing him tomorrow.

'Perhaps when tomorrow is over I will have to disappear,' she thought. 'But not until then.'

But she did not want to leave him. She wanted to stay. She wanted this wonderful time to last as long as possible.

And she prayed that there would be no ugly, angry reckoning when it all came to an end.

*

When Ola awoke she knew that this was going to be an exciting day and wonderful things were going to happen. She got out of bed and looked at herself in the mirror to see if she looked tired and worn out. Instead she seemed younger than she actually was and her eyes were shining.

'I must make myself look lovely for him,' she thought. 'I wonder if he is thinking of me, as I am thinking of him.'

She tried to be realistic. He had so many duties. He would be thinking of them, not of her. That was only right.

It was a saddening thought.

What she longed to do was send him a note saying that he was in her heart. But a lady could not do that, even when the gentleman had seemed attracted by her, because as every woman knew – and if she did not, she soon learned – men could split their minds into different compartments, and think of only one at a time, without, apparently, noticing that it contradicted the others.

She tried to picture him sitting at his desk, studying important papers, perhaps preparing for an appointment with the Queen. And then, remembering that he had made a promise to a girl he'd met the night before.

And regretting it?

It would be terrible if he were to think her a nuisance.

Her father had always attracted much admiration from women, but he was never impressed by it.

"The more women talk the less I believe them," he had once said.

"Of course you believe them, my dear, when they are flattering you," his wife had replied, amused. She knew her husband cared only for her.

Her father had snorted, as he always did when he was embarrassed.

"They do it so clumsily," he grunted. "It's not for a woman to run after a man, but for a man to run after a woman." Catching his wife giving him a teasing look, he had added hastily, "An unmarried man, of course."

She remembered that now, and knew that it would be terrible if the Duke thought she was running after him.

"He must have a dozen women doing that already," she told herself sadly. "He's so handsome. He's probably forgotten me."

For a moment her sense of humour came to her rescue.

"Of course, I'm a Princess, which gives me the advantage."

But then she sighed and became despondent again.

"He'd probably have said the same to any Princess. That's the problem with having the advantage. You never really know what the other person is thinking."

As she was drinking coffee there was a knock on the door, which Greta answered, returning with a letter.

"This was delivered for you downstairs," she said, handing it to Ola.

On the letter was written,

To Her Royal Highness, the Princess Relola.

Tearing it open, she read,

I shall be downstairs at 10 o'clock precisely. We are going riding.

John.

'He hasn't forgotten me,' her heart sang.

Then a terrible thought seized her.

"Greta, did you pack my riding habit?"

"Of course I did," said Greta, bristling with indignation at this slur.

In moments she had taken out the black broadcloth habit and was brushing it down. It fitted snugly onto Ola's trim figure, emphasising her tiny waist and flaring hips. Beneath it she wore a snowy white shirt, frilled at the neck and down the front, with a pearl brooch at her throat.

For her head there was a cheeky black hat, decorated with white streamers that flowed down her back.

At precisely ten o'clock she made her way downstairs. The Duke was waiting for her, dressed in an immaculately tailored jacket, riding breeches and gleaming black boots. As soon as he saw her, he bowed.

"Good morning, Fraulein Schmidt," he said. "Your humble escort has arrived, and he thinks you look like the sun itself. Every man who sees you with me will be jealous that I have beaten him to the winning post."

She laughed aloud with delight.

"You speak as if I were a horse," she teased.

"No, you're the prize. Now, come with me, and let me show you a marvel."

She followed him out of the hotel to where a groom was standing on the pavement, holding three horses. One was his own mount, one was a powerful black stallion, the last was a dainty little milk white mare.

Ola exclaimed with pleasure at the sight of the mare.

"She is yours?"

"No. Don't tell anyone, but I borrowed her from the royal stables. Come, let me help you mount."

With his hands on her waist, she was swiftly in the saddle.

"Now we're going to Rotten Row," he said.

Her heart soared with joy. Whatever the problems, she would worry about them later. For now there was only this perfect day, this man, this happiness.

"Are we far from Hyde Park?" Ola asked as they cantered along Piccadilly.

"No, it's just at the end of this road, just beyond that archway," replied her escort.

A huge elaborately carved arch loomed up before them, and when they had passed it they were entering the great Hyde Park, with its walk ways and carriage ways for society to display itself.

Ola drew in a quick, delighted breath at the sight of so many gorgeously dressed people in summer colours. Here were the carriages, with coats of arms on their panels, indicating the aristocratic status of those who sat inside.

As they passed they greeted each other with precisely graded nods, so that nobody was insulted by being accorded less acknowledgement than their due, or much worse, more acknowledgement than their due.

How elegant they were, Ola thought. The vehicles gleamed, the horses shone, the coachmen sat proudly. The ladies, under their summer parasols, wore their finery with ease.

Many of them were young girls, out riding with their Mamas, showing themselves at the right time and place so that likely suitors with enough money and status could look them over and consider whether to bid for them. This was clearly one facet of what the Duke had called the marriage mart.

Some of the Mamas waved to him, and imperiously ordered their coachmen to halt, forcing the Duke to draw up beside them. He introduced 'Fraulein Schmidt', whose beauty drew looks of alarm from the women and appreciation from the men.

One carriage was occupied by the Countess of Selbourne, taking the air with her two daughters, her son, Gilbert riding at the rear. The Countess virtually commanded the Duke to ride alongside her, and it seemed as though they would never escape, until Ola had the inspired idea of flirting madly with Gilbert. After that the Duke speedily made his excuses and drew her away.

"He's a spendthrift," he said, sounding annoyed, as they made their way to Rotten Row. "Don't waste your time on him."

"But it wasn't a waste of time," said Ola merrily. "It made you take action, which was the idea."

"Do you mean you deliberately - ?" He stopped, staring at her. She was laughing at him outright.

"Of course," she said.

"Well, I'll be – I suppose I should have expected that."

"So that was the marriage mart?"

"Some of it. It's at its most intense in a ballroom, of course. Oh, how I wish I could take you to the Palace ball. Every man would envy me, and I would like to introduce you to the Queen."

"No, that's not possible," Ola said quickly. "It will be enough if I see her in her carriage. Is this carriage-way the route she will take?"

"Sometimes. And there is Rotten Row, just ahead."

They cantered into the broad avenue where thoroughbred horses could already be seen making their way, bearing their load of thoroughbred humans.

'It is exciting being royal,' Ola thought, 'even though I'm supposed to be pretending not to be. Still, I'm sure it has some disadvantages. If I were really a Princess I would be heavily chaperoned and, and couldn't enjoy a ride like this, alone with him."

"Why are you not working today?" she asked the Duke.

"I'm playing truant," he answered with a smile. "I was supposed to take some of the royal visitors to see the British Museum, but as I've seen it a dozen times myself I managed to get one of the equerries to take my place."

"That was kind of him," Ola said.

"I had to promise to ask him to shoot with me when the shooting season begins," the Duke said. "As he enjoys coming to stay at my house in the country he agreed at once."

"Tell me some more about your house," Ola begged. "What it is called?"

"Camborne Park. It's been in my family for over five hundred years, and has been owned by twelve generations of my family. It looks a bit like a castle."

"You mean it has towers and turrets?"

"Yes, that's exactly what it has. And an armoury with walls covered with swords and pistols arranged in geometric patterns. There are suits of armour standing in corners.

"My two younger brothers and I used to enjoy playing hide and seek when we were children. We would dart behind the suits of armour and one day we knocked one over. It made a crash that could be heard at the far end of the castle. My father was furious."

"Two younger brothers," she said enviously. "And two sisters, I think you said. How wonderful. It's so sad being an only child."

She was thinking of herself, and was taken aback when he said,

"So Oltenitza has no other Princesses, or Princes?"

"No," she said. "I've had no companionship all my life. It's been very lonely. I envy you, always having someone to play with."

"We fought each other as often as we played," he remembered with a grin. "I used to prefer playing with children from the estate. They always knew the best mischief."

"Oh yes, I'm sure that's true," she said.

As they talked they were making their way along Rotten Row, and the Duke was nodding to acquaintances passing by. Every one of them cast interested eyes over Ola, and several young ladies hailed him in a way that made it impossible for him not to stop.

Mere politeness demanded this, but Ola felt that it was more than politeness that made him flirt with them.

It was, of course, perfectly proper, since it was done under the eyes of the ladies' brothers and fathers, but the Duke enjoyed himself more than Ola liked to see.

On one of the rare occasions that they were alone, she murmured,

"Hmm!"

"I beg your pardon, ma'am."

"I said Hmm! It was intended cynically. You almost made me weep last night with the account of your trials and tribulations in the marriage mart.

"This poor soul, I thought. How he suffers from all these ladies after him! I tell you, sir, what would really make you suffer would be if no woman took the slightest notice of you. And serve you right."

He shouted with laughter.

"You wrong me, ma'am, I'll swear you do."