Guiltily Faro recognised this experience as similar to his own, but for a vastly different reason - a deliberate attempt to eradicate all memory of that brief fateful visit of the Grand Duchess Amelie.
'There has not been a day in my life when I have not thought of you in the past thirteen years, Jeremy. Thinking what time it would be in Scotland and what you might be doing at that moment. And all the time railing against my destiny.'
Again that deep searching gaze into his face.
'Always saying if only - if only I had not been born a Grand Duchess, I could have made all my dreams come true. I could have been with you forever.'
And Faro listened sadly, wishing for her sake that he had been in love too and could honestly share her emotions. Wishing he could say just once that it had been the same for him. For that was what she expected, as her right.
But it had never been so. Would it have been different if she had not been royal? Had some caution reasoned against loving someone far above him? Just as she must have always known that to love an Edinburgh policeman was a waste of time.
Acceptance had been easy for him. He had never loved her. That night of madness and passion long ago had never seemed part of his real world. Yet it had resulted in a child, ironically a now beloved son he could never claim as his own.
‘I have talked to the Colonel,' he said trying desperately to get the conversation on to less emotional ground. 'I am glad you have such a friend.'
She sighed. 'I expect he told you that he loves me. Everyone knows about that. Such a good kind man, a great friend, but how could a Grand Duchess marry a mere Count?'
Or a policeman, thought Faro. What an intolerable existence it would have been. To be passionately in love - at the beginning - believing he could spend the rest of his life in her shadow in Luxoria. How love would have soon faded, changed into resentment.
'I have had one consolation through the years,' Amelie said, 'when I look at George. And he grows more like you every day. So I have always had a part of you, a mirror in him.' She sighed deeply. 'I would not mind dying now.'
'You must not talk of dying, Amelie. You have much to live for.'
She shook her head. 'Not now that I have seen you again. I have often thought I would give the rest of my life for one more hour together. Maybe God has been good and heard my prayer,' she whispered.
And Faro remembered the bullet that had lodged close to her heart and the odds on her survival, as she added, 'The future of Luxoria is settled. That was why I came here to Mosheim this time, to make the final arrangements. Willy is to take care of everything.'
'What of President Gustav?'
She shrugged. 'He will be helpless against the might of Imperial Germany. And I have Willy's assurance that he will take good care of my people. I trust him, for he is a man of his word. Once, when we were in Balmoral, his uncle the Prince of Wales said that William the Great, as he called him, needed to learn that he is living near the end of the nineteenth century and not in the Middle Ages. Willy never forgot that. He was determined to prove him wrong. He did not care for his uncle, a feeling that was reciprocated.'
'How will your own people react to this annexation?'
'Agreeably, I think. They love me, they hate Gustav. They will believe that anything I choose for them is the right thing. Luxoria is a poor country, bled by his indulgence and extravagance. With Willy, Luxoria will blossom and live again, share a new economy.'
She smiled. 'My people like him very much, you know, and they will learn to trust him. He has visited us many times, as my old friend, purely social visits. Willy is so popular with the people, a charming man - do you know they turned out in their thousands to watch his carriage pass by, to cheer him. How Gustav hated that!'
'And what of George's future in all this?'
'That is all decided. Willy will take care of his education until he is old enough for his official role.'
'But by then Luxoria will be part of Germany,' Faro reminded her gently. 'So it will be in name only, surely?'
‘I do not think George will mind in the least. He has never cared for being heir to the throne. He seems to have inherited other ideas of what he wants to do with his life.'
Faro let that pass as Amelie went on, 'Please tell my dear godmother when you return to Scotland that I leave my little country in her grandson's excellent keeping.'
Faro knew the chances were remote indeed that he would be able to approach Her Majesty with such a message.
'Your Queen will be pleased with our decision,' Amelie continued, 'because that was what her beloved Prince Albert, my very dear uncle, always wanted for Prussia.'
A clock struck the hour, slowly, solemnly.
Amelie sighed. 'If only... if only. Are they the cruellest words in any language? Soon it will be time for you to leave. For us to part,' she looked at him calmly, candidly. 'I think we are unlikely ever to meet again.'
She leaned forward and kissed Faro on the mouth. He held her close, briefly, wishing he could say and mean the words she longed to hear.
'This is our real parting, dearest Jeremy,' she whispered. 'Our official one will be, alas, much more formal. But there is someone else I want you to meet, if you would - ' she indicated the bell-pull.
A moment later the door opened to admit a vision of elegance: a large-eyed, large-bosomed woman, swept dramatically into the room, looking as if she had just stepped off the stage. She ran swiftly to Amelie and kissed her. Anton was close behind, their likeness immediate. this was his mother.
She had not seen Faro and, following Amelie's whisper, turned to face him.
Amelie smiled. 'This is Melissa, Karl's sister.'
And Gustav's late mistress, thought Faro, as the vision bore down upon him.
'So you are - ' her eyes widened as she turned and looked at Amelie. Then she laughed, a deep-throated laugh. 'How could anyone be mistaken?' She wagged a finger at him. 'I have heard all about you, Monsieur Faro and there is someone here dying to see you.'
She called out, 'Enter!' and the door opened to admit another woman, tall, slender, auburn-haired, green-eyed. And in Faro's eyes, the most beautiful woman in the world.
'Imogen!' he gasped. 'What on earth are you doing here?' he asked, holding her hand formally but longing to gather her into his arms.
Laughing, she indicated the woman talking to Amelie. 'That's Lisa, the opera singer friend I told you about.'
'Such a small world!'
'Sure now, isn't it just? Too small for comfort sometimes. Too small for secrets too.'
Faro ignored that arch smile, as she looked at him searchingly. 'Well now, Faro. And what have you been doing to yourself? I hear you have cracked ribs.'
'Trouble with a horse,' he murmured.
Imogen laughed. 'Life is full of surprises, isn’t it just? All this time and you never even told me you could ride a horse. Not one of your accomplishments you've ever cared to discuss with me, like some others that are now seeing the light of day.'
Ignoring her teasing smile, Faro said, 'But what are you doing in Mosheim?'
'I came with Lisa. We've been in Munich and are on our way back to Heidelberg. She wanted me to meet Amelie, who I understand loves Scotland and had a very interesting holiday there once, about thirteen years ago. That was before we met, of course,' she added primly.
If she expected a reply to that, she wasn't getting one.
'Amelie talks of nothing else to Lisa,' she went on with a sideways glance over at the diva. 'Lisa is leaving immediately, she's singing Beethoven's ‘Fidelio’ in Heidelberg. This is just a fleeting visit.' She paused, looking at the little group chattering, oblivious of their presence. ‘I can go with her if you're planning to stay on here for a while."
'No!' said Faro sharply. 'I'm not staying.' He took her hand. 'I want - desperately - just to be with you again,’ he whispered. ‘To have you all to myself and that means without Lisa. The Colonel was to send you a telegraph at Heidelberg - that I had arrived.'
In answer Faro went over to Amelie and Melissa, bowed and held out his hand. 'Goodbye, Amelie.'
He hoped she was not going to cry for her voice trembled as she said, 'Please see George before you go.'
Melissa took his hand in a strong grip. 'You are not really going to leave us so soon, Mr Faro,' she whispered. Her eyelids fluttered seductively. 'We have only just met.'
Faro bowed. ‘I hope to see you again - in ‘Fidelio’’
George was waiting for him. 'Mama said you must go. That you couldn't stay for a while.' He had none of his mother's restraint, none of that adult world of dissembling had touched his childish sorrow at losing Faro.
'It's so unfair.' And putting his thin arms around Faro he sobbed. ‘You are so good and true, not like - that - beast, who ill-used my mother, and Anton's mother too. I hate him. I’d give everything in the world to have had you as my father, to say that word - just once.'
It was said, it hung in the air between them. Too late Faro's hand covered gently the boy's mouth. 'No, Highness, no,' he whispered. 'You - we - must never think about it.'
And George threw his arms around Faro again. 'It is you who will always be my father-image that I shall carry when I'm a man. You, I will try to be like. I want so much for you to be proud of me.'
'I am so proud of you, George. And will always be,' said Faro as he hugged the boy to him, stroked his cheek then gently released him. And he thought that the pain in his heart at this parting was greater than any physical agony he had ever suffered.
'We will meet again - some day. Promise!' George whispered.
'No, lad. I can't promise you that, but I can promise I'll never forget the bravest prince that ever lived.'
'May I write to you, then?' George asked, fighting back the tears.
'Please do, as often as you can. Goodbye, lad.'
'Goodbye - ' and the whispered ever-forbidden word followed him.
Only once, but Faro would remember it always.
Imogen waited outside, his battered valise at her feet. As they walked into the winter sunshine, she took his arm, aware that his emotions were running high, that this man who rarely wept was very close to it now.
'That's a fine young lad. We had a chat. A very interesting encounter. Do you know, he reminds me very much of someone - ' she added archly. 'If only I could think who - or, more important, when and why.'
Faro looked at her sharply, wondering how much she had guessed or been told by Lisa who was Amelie's confidant.
She squeezed his hand gently, stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. 'I'm glad I came and met Amelie at last.'
It was a sign. She knew. But his secret was safe with her. She knew her own place in his life was unchallenged and would remain so.
'You must tell me all about your adventures. All of them, I mean. Leave nothing out,' she laughed.
'Sometime - maybe,' he said wearily.
She smiled up at him. 'Whither now, Faro?'
'Whither indeed. I wish I knew. Meanwhile, I think the next train to Heidelberg.'
And both exiles of a sort, they walked arm in arm towards the waiting carriage…
[Inspector Faro 14] - Faro and the Royals Page 51
