The Breadth of Heaven (10 page)

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Authors: Rosemary Pollock

BOOK: The Breadth of Heaven
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The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. Natalia had a short interview with the Prince, and then went on resting in her room, and Leonid vanished into the long library, in which Kathy had fainted the night before, and sent for the male secretary who formed part of his suite. There was nothing of any importance for Kathy to do, so she wandered along to the nursery, to where she found both the children being entertained by the large, beaming housemaid in whose care they had temporarily been placed. Later in the day, some of the staff who had been left in Paris would be arriving, but for the moment the maid Luisa was to be responsible for their creature comforts. Kathy decided that she might as well take them for a short walk, and as soon as the maid understood that the
signorina
meant to relieve her of her responsibilities for a while she sprang up from the floor, where she had been crawling in evident imitation of a bear, and departed with alacrity in the direction of the kitchens, where a large cup of coffee and a comfortable gossip would no doubt be awaiting her.

Kathy took the children out on to the terrace. She supposed it would not be wise for them to wander too far into the grounds, in case they should be set upon by a marauding reporter

though it still seemed rather ridiculous to suppose that any reporter might be lying in wait for the opportunity of questioning her—so they stayed close to the white walls of the house, and Joachim found a rather grubby tennis ball, which someone had probably dropped by accident, and amused himself by bouncing it up and down on the white, scrubbed flags of the terrace. Nina ran around in circles, admiring the flowers, and the wonderful tree covered in oranges that stood just below the terrace. And then she tired, and had to be picked up. Joachim soon grew tired too, and Kathy thought he looked pale and dispirited—almost as if he realized that something was wrong. She wondered what sort of things he thought about, and how soon somebody would decide to tell him that he might not, after all, grow up to be a king.

She took them back indoors, saw that they washed their hands in readiness for lunch, then sat on the floor and leafed through Italian picture-books with them until Luisa returned to serve and
supervise
their lunch. Then she left them, and went back to her own room.

Considerably to her relief she found that lunch was not being served in the
sala da pranzo
that day, but in the guests’ own apartments, and when she had eaten as much as she could manage of the pleasant, light meal which was brought to her on a tray by Rosa, she lay down on her bed and attempted to enjoy a siesta.

Far off in the house she could hear continuous quiet, unobtrusive sounds, but they were mainly muted by distance and lavish carpeting, and she was almost asleep by the time a hand rapped sharply on her door, and in response to her murmured ‘come in’ Rosa looked in at her.


Scusa, signorina
,
but there is gentleman to see you. He is in the
salon
.”

“A
gentleman
?” repeated Kathy in bewilderment, wondering at the same time whether it would ever be possible to sleep for any length of time in this bewildering place.

“Yes,
signorina
.
He says he is from the British Consulate, and if you do not mind he would like to see you.”

The British Consulate! Kathy got up. “Tell the gentleman I will come in a moment, Rosa.”

She ran a comb through her hair, lightly dusted her nose with powder, and applied a sparing touch of lipstick to her mouth. Then she walked along the corridor and into the huge, handsome room which she had already discovered was known as the
salon
.

A young man was standing by the fireplace—a tall, very English-looking young man, whose eyes registered distinct surprise when Kathy walked into the room. Then their expression altered, as she walked towards him, to reveal something more like undisguised admiration.

“Miss Grant?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I’m Robert Markham. I’m from the Consulate in Mirano, and I’ve been sent to find out whether or not you’re all right.”

She smiled, feeling suddenly relaxed. It was so nice to hear an English voice.

“Thank you, but I’m perfectly all right, Mr. Markham.”

“You’re quite sure? You see, we heard about you, and it didn’t seem right for an English girl to be shut up here with all this going on.” He waved a hand in a gesture which he had probably picked up since coming to Italy. “The Press are a mile deep outside the main gate, you know. To get in at all I had to put my foot down and charge!”

“It’s not as bad as that in here
...
we’re very quiet.” She asked him to sit down, and he did so, at the same time offering her a cigarette, which she refused. She found the concentrated approval in his grey eyes rather embarrassing, but at the same time it was very pleasant to be sitting opposite anyone with whom she could talk more or less on equal terms.

“How do you like Italy?” He asked the question casually, glancing around him at the splendours of the room in which they sat.

“Very much—I think. I only arrived here last night, and there’s been so much to think about
...

He looked at her sharply. “Don’t worry about the Karanskas. They’ve nothing to fear. The revolution was absolutely bloodless, and provided they don’t feel tempted to go back and try to alter things they’ll be perfectly safe. You’re employed by Princess Natalia, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t suppose there’s any possibility that she will want to go b
a
ck.”

They talked for a few minutes more and then, with transparent reluctance, Robert Markham stood up to go.

“We’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he told her. “And if anything worries you, don’t hesitate to get in touch with me at the Consulate.”

She nodded. “I won’t forget.”

When he had gone, she walked over to the window, and watched him drive away in a small white sports car. It was nice to know that there was someone in the district to whom she could turn.

The next few days went by rather peacefully—remarkably peacefully, Kathy thought. Shoals of newspapers, both Italian and foreign, found their way into the villa, and from what she could understand of their contents Kathy gathered that the troubles in Tirhania were headline news all over the world, but inside the Villa Albinhieri everything remained quiet. Natalia, for the first day or two stunned and bewildered, gradually began to return to normal, and when the new dresses she had ordered in Paris duly arrived as if nothing had happened, she seemed to derive the keenest pleasure from trying them on and pirouetting before the long gilt-framed mirrors in her bedroom. Kathy’s new clothes arrived as well, and she too was conscious of a definite satisfaction as she tried on the champagne-coloured silk and the dark, diaphanous evening dress, and filled her drawers with soft, pastel-hued twin-sets and mountains of lacy underwear.

The children, particularly Joachim, were good and rather quiet, and every day they played for a while on the terrace, under the supervision of Kathy or Luisa
...
and every afternoon spent an hour with their mother, in the beautiful white and gold
sala
which was reserved for her personal use.

Kathy saw little of Leonid, and for his part he seemed rather to avoid her than otherwise. She invariably had her meals with Natalia, in the latter’s
sitting-room, and at most other times of the day the Prince seemed perennially occupied in the library, telephoning and dictating letters.

On the fourth evening, however, Natalia suddenly decided that she would dine with the others, and if she did so, then Kathy would have to do so too, for she must have moral support.

Kathy would very much have liked to back out, for she felt that at this private family dinner her presence could only be an intrusion—especially at a time when there must be so much that the Karanskas would like to discuss among themselves—but she was not allowed to think of it, so she attired herself in a rather prim lavender-coloured cocktail dress which she had possessed since before she left England, and at seven-forty-five duly went along to the
salon
,
where she had been told it was the custom for guests at the Villa to assemble before dinner.

When she entered the room, she found the Prince and Signora Albinhieri already there, but Natalia, evidently, had not yet appeared. As soon as Kathy came in, Leonid, immaculate in a dinner-jacket of irreproachable cut, announced that he would prepare her a drink, and suddenly overcome with shyness and self-consciousness, she agreed to accept a small sherry.

He did not say anything as he handed her the small, fragile Venetian goblet in which the sherry danced and sparkled like tawny, liquid fire, but as she took it from him and murmured a ‘thank you’ she instinctively glanced up into his face, and saw that his eyes were cold and quellingly remote. Feeling chilled and dispirited, she sipped at the sherry, then put it down on the table which Leonid had just courteously moved to a position close to her elbow. The silence, she thought, might have lasted for ever had it been left to herself and the Prince, but fortunately Signora Albinhieri was there to break it. Her bright eyes had been surveying Kathy with interest and a certain amount of curiosity ever since the English girl had entered the
salon
,
and she appeared to be voicing an opinion she could keep to herself no longer when she suddenly said:

“My dear, you are very charming tonight. Is she not, Leon?”

Kathy felt herself colouring vividly, and was furious with herself. She didn’t look up, for she didn’t want to see those cold, masculine eyes surveying her with critical appraisal. Feeling like an unusually foolish schoolgirl, she said quietly:

“Thank you,
signora
.”

The Prince said nothing. Smiling rather archly, Signora Albinhieri sipped her drink in silence. Then she said:

“Soon, I am afraid, you will be becoming bored. No doubt you are accustomed to being surrounded by admiring young men
... here, there is no one even to take you to the theatre in Genoa. It is a situation which is quite deplorable!” Again, the old lady sipped at her drink, while Kathy felt the flush spreading to her neck and ears.

“I assure, you,
signora
,
I’m not accustomed to being surrounded by admiring young men, and I don’t want to be taken out
...”
Her voice sounded stiff with embarrassment.

“So!” The old eyes twinkled. “There is one man in particular, yes? But of course, that is it! You have a—what do you call it—an understanding. You are affianced, perhaps. These things are handled so strangely in England these days. But customs vary, and I daresay you find it quite romantic. Does he write to you
...
?
If he should wish to come here, of course you may receive him at any time you wish!”

“Really,
signora
,
there is no one!” Kathy lifted a hand to her scarlet cheek, miserably conscious of the Prince’s gaze, bent intently upon her.

But to her surprise, Leonid was the next to speak. “I do not think,
marraine,
that we have any right to enquire into the personal life of Miss Grant.”

There was detachment and disinterest in his tone, combined with a note of distaste which seemed to indicate that her display of schoolgirlish self-consciousness had been rather more than he could stand. It was bad enough, he seemed to be thinking, to be obliged to dine with his sister-in-law’s little English companion; to be forced to discuss her private affairs and pursue the question of whether or not she had a
fiancé
awaiting her in England would be quite insupportable.

The subject was dropped then, in any case, for Natalia came in in a floating creation of golden net, and very soon afterwards they all adjourned to the dining-room.

Dinner was long-drawn-out and elaborately served, and the conversation moved lightly and smoothly around a number of trifling subjects which were of no very great importance to anybody present, and so were completely safe and proper topics for general discussion. Leonid took little part, she noticed, but she herself was skilfully drawn in b
y
Natalia and Signora Albinhieri, and the ease and fluency with which they undertook the courtesy of
invariably speaking nothing but English in her presence never ceased to amaze her. Signora Albinhieri said nothing further to embarrass her, and by the time they left the dining-table, shortly after nine o’clock, she felt more or less at ease. She did not even feel particularly alarmed when, after handing her her coffee cup in the adjoining
salon
,
Leonid sat down beside her.

After all, she thought, his disapprobation meant very little to her. It really didn’t matter in the least what he thought of her ... she wasn’t afraid of him. But when she stole a sideways glance at him she saw that his face was not nearly as forbidding as it had seemed earlier in the evening, and although there was something curiously alert in the dark eyes as they rested on her, there was also a hint of unaccustomed softness.

“You are pale,” he said, but something in his voice robbed the remark of any suggestion of criticism. “Are you well
...
happy here? You do not find it too trying that you are not permitted to go beyond the gardens?”

“No, of course not,
I ... love
it here. I think I’m really very lucky—there are such wonderful gardens to walk in. And it’s marvellous just to know that I’m in Italy.” She dropped her eyes, suddenly disconcerted by the intensity of his strange dark gaze. “The only thing that worries me is that there doesn’t seem to be very much for me to do.”

“You are here to amuse my sister-in-law ... to divert her, to handle her when her difficult moods arise. This you have accomplished very well.” He took out his cigarette-case and held it towards her. “You will not be persuaded to smoke
... Katherine?”

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