Flight to Verechenko (10 page)

‘Then perhaps I should stay in the background,' Dominic said drily. ‘I should hate to be eaten, even by Dagmar.'

Maria laughed. ‘Don't be silly, Dominic. You have the backbone of ten men. I just wish you would settle down and marry. Alexis tells me you have been squiring the pretty new dancer from the Maryinsky about town. Is it true?'

‘I'm not a monk, Maria,' he said fondly.

Unknowingly Catherine's hands tightened in her lap.

‘
Please
try and behave for my sake,' Maria was saying scoldingly. ‘Amelia Cunningham obviously adores you and she would make an ideal wife for you.'

‘You think so?' The Marquis appeared to be giving it deep thought. ‘ Then perhaps I should send her red roses. That should make my conquest complete.'

The light mockery was back in his voice and Maria said, ‘ You're funning me, Dominic Harland, and I won't put up with it. Alexis told me himself that you were contemplating marriage.'

‘
Had
been,' the Marquis agreed equably.

Catherine felt the colour rise in her cheeks like a tide. Of all the conversations to have to be a silent party to! She wished the ground would swallow her up. She was saved further embarrassment by the footman opening the door and annoucing, ‘Countess Nestoreva's carriage has arrived for you, sir.'

Dominic kissed Maria's hand in goodbye and without the merest glance in Catherine's direction he left the room.

The Nestorevs. Where the Cunninghams were staying. No doubt Amelia Cunningham was there now, waiting to simper and flirt once more with him.

The doors opened once again and the footman, this time with his usual calm slightly flustered, announced, ‘Princess Dagmar, Barina.'

A wizened figure, weighed down by ropes of waist length pearls, entered the room. Her dress was of powder-grey lace, her face waxwhite with make-up, the only colour the bloodred of the rubies adorning her fingers. In one hand she carried a silver cane. Catherine wondered why. It obviously wasn't necessary to assist her to walk. She was soon to find out.

She kissed Maria briefly on both cheeks. ‘I hear we have that rascal Harland with us. Should liven things up a bit. The Crimea was like a cemetery. It was a fool idea going this time of the year. Marquis of Clare now is he? Would never have expected it. The older brother was only in his late twenties, wasn't he? On the quiet side if I remember rightly. Would have made a most respectable member of Britain's upper classes. This one won't,' she cackled. ‘Probably marry an opera singer and upset the lot of them. Serve'em all right. Too fuddy-duddy, the English. No blood in their veins. Who asked that damned awful Cunningham creature to stay? Can't stand the sight of her. Looks like a camel but hasn't that animal's brains.'

‘She came because of you, darling,' Maria managed to interrupt at last.

‘Then she needn't have bothered. Shan't have anything to do with her. Who's that?' Piercing black eyes stared at Catherine, looking her up and down as though she were a chattel.

‘Eleanor Cartwright, the governess Mrs Oversley recommended.'

‘Doesn't look like a governess to me,' the Princess said frankly, staring at Catherine's thick titian hair and up-tilted eyes.

‘No, she doesn't,' Maria replied agreeably. ‘She's very pretty. The children adore her and so do I.'

‘Umph.'

The Princess tapped her cane imperiously on the floor. ‘Come here, girl. Let's have a closer look at you.'

Torn between amusement and apprehension Catherine approached the diminutive figure.

‘Well, you're a beauty all right,' she said at last, grudgingly. ‘So you're Eleanor Cartwright?' she asked, and there was a gleam in the black eyes that Catherine found distinctly unnerving.

‘Yes, Your Highness,' she wondered if she should curtsey and decided that she had better.

‘Then if you're going to be part of the fixtures and fittings I'd better get to know you. Come on.'

With a swish of lace on the floor and a careless tap of her cane on the footman's shoulder as she passed, she left the room.

Catherine gazed confusedly at Maria who smiled encouragingly. ‘Do as she says. And stand up to her. She doesn't like to be fawned over.'

A stout, flustered figure in a too-tight pale blue satin dress, was hastily bade to one side as the Princess made her royal progression up the sweeping flight of stairs, preceded by the liveried footman and with a small negro boy in a scarlet tunic following some yards behind. Up the magnificent staircase, turning right down the deeply carpeted corridor through room after room that Catherine had never entered before, until at last they came to a high-ceilinged salon of eighteen-century elegance. The female companion, for such Catherine assumed her to be, hung nervously about the door to be dismissed with a wave of the cane. The footman bowed deferentially. The doors closed. The Princess seated herself in a rosepink velvet covered chair, tapped her rubyencrusted fingers on a glass-topped table and said without preamble, ‘The strangest people visit the Crimea.'

‘Yes, Your Highness.' Catherine wondered if perhaps the Princess was slightly mad.

‘The Grand Duchess was there of course. And there was a smattering of English and French. Met an English Dowager Countess of French extraction with hair remarkably like yours. Eyes too, now I come to think of it. She was recuperating from a fall.
I
knew her when I was a girl. Wasn't a member of the British aristocracy then, but they could do with more like her. Called herself Gianetta Dubois in those days. You wouldn't know who I'm talking about by any chance?'

Catherine stared at her like a rabbit at a fox. The only person who knew where she was, was Gianetta. She had written to her immediately, asking her not to disclose her whereabouts to her parents and explaining the reason for her flight. She had not wanted to cause anxiety to her deeply-loved grandmother and her trust in Gianetta had been rewarded. There had been no comunication from England to Verechenko. But now her grandmother had forsaken the Riviera for the Crimea. And had fallen into friendship with the Princess. Not surprising considering the similarities in character of the two old ladies. As the enormity of what had happened sank in, the room reeled and Catherine sank, unasked into a chair. The Princess did not comment on this amazing lack of etiquette, merely continued to stare at her with eyes like black shiny pebbles.

She would have to leave Verechenko. The daughter of Lord and Lady Davencourt could hardly be retained as a governess. And Dominic would discover her true identity. His indifference would deepen into contempt.

‘I hate liars and hypocrites,' the Princess said crisply. ‘So perhaps we could have a little truth.'

‘Yes,' Catherine's voice was a mere whisper as she tried to collect her thoughts.

‘Are you Gianetta Dubois' granddaughter?'

If she admitted it, she would never see Dominic again. And seeing him, even in the company of Amelia Cunningham, was suddenly preferable to not seeing him at all. Her eyes met the Princess Dagmar's.

‘Yes,' she said, two large tears sliding down her cheeks. ‘Yes, I am.'

The Princess threw back her head in a gale of laughter. When she recovered sufficently, she said, wiping streaming eyes, ‘And do you mean to tell me that my thick-headed nephew never suspected?'

‘No, Your Highness, I made a very
good
governess.'

‘I'm sure you did.' She cackled appreciatively. ‘And what did you do when that young cub Harland arrived?'

‘Nothing. I … It was very awkward,' she finished lamely.

‘I'll bet it was!' The Princess rubbed her hands together in sheer enjoyment. ‘So … You flee to Verechenko to avoid meeting him and he turns up on your doorstep. What do you think of him, now you've seen him? A handsome devil, isn't he?'

‘He's … I mean …' Catherine floundered.

‘Come on, girl, I won't give you away if you don't want me to, but have the grace to allow me to enjoy this situation to the full. Life's dull enough when you're eighty. So what did you think when you met him? That you'd been a hot-headed fool and should have stayed?'

‘
He
didn't stay.'

The Princess's brows, plucked to such a thin line that they were almost non-existant, flew up.

‘
He
left England the same way I did,' Catherine continued indignantly. ‘He hadn't the slightest intention of marrying me. He was amusing himself, that's all. Making a fool of his parents and of me.'

‘Is that so?' The Princess leaned forward, hands clasped around the top of her cane. ‘And how would you know a thing like that?'

‘Because we travelled on the same boat,' Catherine said bitterly.

The Princess's eyes narrowed speculatively. ‘ Oh yes, and what happened between the two of you on the boat? Come on, child, I'm not in my dotage. I haven't enjoyed myself so much for years, and I don't want cheating of any of it. What happened?' the Princess waited expectantly.

At last Catherine said despairingly, ‘He thought I was a woman of easy virtue.'

This time the brows disappeared completely and an expression of unalloyed delight spread over the heavily-powdered face. ‘A
cocotte!
' It was all the Princess could do to stop herself clapping her hands in joy. ‘Now what on earth gave him that idea?' Her expression changed suddenly. ‘You haven't …'

‘Of course not,' Catherine said indignantly. ‘It was nothing to do with my behaviour on the boat. It was before.'

The Princess hung on every word. ‘ Before?' she asked impatiently as Catherine seemed reluctant to continue. ‘ What happened before?'

Catherine sighed. It was obvious that she was going to be able to keep nothing back from the sharp-witted Princess.

‘My step-mother told me I had no choice as to whether I married Dominic. She said she would make my life unbearable if I refused and I knew her well enough to believe her. So, before she could carry out her threats I decided to run away to my grandmother who was in Paris at the time. I had no money of my own and so I slipped from the house late at night when no one would see me, and went to the Oversleys'. I knew Caroline Oversley had plenty of money and would lend me what I needed. A man followed me and stole my purse and then …' She shuddered descriptively. ‘Dominic heard me scream. He punched the man to the ground and then sent him reeling with a kick of his boot down the alley.'

The old lady chuckled.

‘I thanked him and he had the arrogance—the gross impertinence—to suggest that I change my profession before I got hurt or murdered!'

The cane was rammed appreciatively into the floor as the Princess hunched her shoulders, leaning forward even further, anxious not to miss a word.

‘Then, on the boat, when I told him I was a governess, he congratulated me on taking his advice!'

This was too much for the Princess. She rocked backwards and forwards with laughter, tears streaming down her face, while the footmen outside the doors looked at each other in wonderment.

‘And then?' the Princess managed at last. ‘And then? When he met you here?'

‘He
knew
I was coming here!' Catherine said angrily. ‘ I told him so on the boat and he said only that he was “acquainted with the Vishnetski family”, not that he would be staying with them. That man,' she added heatedly, ‘ has a very
warped
sense of humour!'

‘So he thinks you're a reformed streetwalker?'

‘I've told him that he's wrong!'

‘And did he try to take advantage of the fact? A full-blooded man like that. Come on, child. What happened?'

Catherine pursed her lips, and the Princess tapped her cane impatiently. ‘Come on, don't be so old-fashioned. I thought you were Gianetta Dubois' granddaughter. What did the rogue do?'

‘The night in the alleyway, when I thanked him, he kissed me.'

‘He did, eh? And since?'

‘When the Cossacks came to ride for the children it was dark and I fell on the terrace steps. He helped me to my feet and …'

‘Kissed you again,' the old lady finished with satisfaction. ‘So … What's the diffculty? You're
not
a governess or a cocotte, so why don't you want him to know who you are?'

‘He didn't kiss me out of affection,' Catherine protested. ‘He simply took advantage of me. He's totally ignored me otherwise. He spends all his time making eyes at Amelia Cunningham or taking some dancer out from the Maryinsky.'

Catherine's green eyes blazed. The Princess chuckled.

‘And you don't like it, eh? Well, why not tell him the truth?'

‘Because I'm not
sure
why he left England. I said it was because he had no intention of marrying me, but what if I'm wrong? What if his intentions were perfectly honourable and he knew I had run away rather than marry him? My step-mother is an awful gossip.

The whole of London will know he had been publicly jilted. It's hardly likely to endear me to him, is it?'

The Princess was thoughtful. ‘So that's the position, is it? You're not sure? Well then,' she settled herself back in her chair. ‘We'll not tell Alexis who you are.
He
wouldn't keep it a secret. And I'll have a private word with that young devil and find out the truth of the situation. Though why on earth you couldn't marry the man your father chose for you I cannot imagine.'

‘I didn't love him then, Your Highness,' Catherine said ingenuously, giving herself away.

‘I didn't love my husband but I married him,' the Princess replied spiritedly. ‘Were you never tempted to tell Alexis your true identity? It can't have been easy acting the part of governess.'

‘I was afraid that if I did so he would feel morally obliged to tell my father who I was.'