Princes and Princesses

by Cartland, Barbara

  “I must admit I feel rather apprehensive,” Harry added.

  Then they were walking up a small covered path as the woman signalled them to do and they heard the carriage drive away.

  It struck the Duke suddenly that it might be difficult to return to the yacht, but there was nothing he could do but pass through a narrow entrance to find the woman waiting for them.

  She closed the door and they were now in complete darkness.

  “Stay where you are!” she commanded. “When I open the door ahead, there will be enough light for you to see your way.”

  She moved away from them as she spoke and a few seconds later there was just a faint light that showed them direction to walk in.

  The Duke went first and he found himself in a room that was obviously at the back of a house. To his surprise it was lit by two candles standing on the floor.

  The room was completely unfurnished, save for two wooden boxes, on which apparently as a concession to comfort, there were two rough sacks. The walls were peeling and the windows of the room were boarded up.

  The Duke looked round him enquiringly and then at the woman.

  “Please sit down,” she said. “I will tell the Prince you are here.”

  There was another door at the far end and she went through it, closing it behind her.

  Because she had asked him to do so, the Duke sat down on one of the wooden boxes and Harry sat on the other.

  “What do you think all this means?” Harry asked in a low voice.

  “God knows,” the Duke replied.

  “I think this is an empty house,” Harry said, in a voice hardly above a whisper.

  “That is obvious,” the Duke agreed.

  The door the woman had left through opened and two men came into the room.

  The Duke looked at the newcomers with an expression of incredulity.

  Both were heavily bearded and wearing the ragged and dirty garments of the beggars they had seen in the streets.

  It flashed through the Duke’s mind that they had been tricked and trapped.

  Then the first man spoke.

  “Good evening, Your Grace!”

  The Duke stared at him.

  “Can you be – ?”

  “Yes, I am Ivan Kerenski.”

  The Duke would have risen to his feet, but to his astonishment the Prince drew a revolver from his tattered garments and pointed it at him.

  “I have asked Your Grace here,” he said harshly, “so that I can demand from you the assistance I need, which I have no other way of obtaining.”

  “Demand?” the Duke questioned. “Is there any reason why anything that you wish to ask of me cannot be done in a reasonable and civilised manner?”

  “I doubt if you would listen to me under different circumstances,” the Prince replied and there was an unmistakably bitter note in his voice.

  “I certainly have no alternative at the moment but to hear what you have to say,” the Duke said.

  He spoke coldly and calmly, but he was considerably surprised not only by the Prince’s behaviour but also by his appearance.

  Could it be possible that this was the suave, elegant, handsome man, diplomatic to his fingertips, he had known and liked in St. Petersburg?

  The Prince, still holding his revolver, moved a little nearer to the Duke, while the man who was with him and looked no less disreputable stayed where he was, just inside the door, and the woman stood beside him.

  “What we are demanding of you, Your Grace,” the Prince said, “is that you convey the treasure which I mentioned in my letter, and us, in your yacht to Cairo. It is our only possible means of escape and, as we are on the verge of starvation, we have no other method of achieving our survival, except by threatening you into doing what we want.”

  “And what is this treasure?” the Duke enquired.

  For a moment the Prince did not reply and the Duke knew that he was debating whether to tell him the truth or to lie.

  Then he said,

  “The treasure we have hidden here and for whom we demand your help is the Grand Duke Alexis!”

  If he had intended to startle the Duke, he succeeded.

  “The Grand Duke Alexis!” he exclaimed. “But he was reported to have been executed by the Bolsheviks.”

  “That is what they intended,” the Prince said grimly, “and that is what they have been trying to do ever since the Revolution began.”

  “You mean that you have managed to keep His Royal Highness safe all these years?”

  Prince Ivan nodded.

  “We were helped by the fact that the Grand Duke was not in St. Petersburg when the Revolution started, but was on his way South. It was some time before we learned that the Bolsheviks had assumed power and were determined to kill all the Royal family.”

  He paused before he went on in a voice that seemed raw,

  “It was only when our friends brought us the news that the Czar and Czarina had been assassinated and that the Grand Duke was also reported dead, that we realised the danger he was in.”

  “I can understand your predicament,” the Duke murmured.

  “We took the Grand Duke into hiding,” the Prince went on, “and by ‘we’ I mean his nephew, Prince Alexander Saronov.”

  He indicated the other man with his hand before he added,

  “And the Grand Duke’s daughter, Her Serene Highness Princess Militsa.

  The Duke glanced for a moment at the woman standing in the background. The light from the candles hardly reached her and he thought that she looked as anonymous and enigmatic as she had when she came to the yacht last night.

  Then his eyes went back to Prince Ivan, who continued,

  “We have moved month after month, year after year, along the coast of the Black Sea, waiting for an opportunity to escape from Russia.”

  His voice deepened when he added,

  “Yet we were afraid to leave our own people who, because they had no liking for the Revolutionaries, were prepared to give us enough food to keep us alive, if nothing else.”

  He looked at Prince Alexander as if he wished to feel sure that he agreed with what he was saying, then went on,

  “A month ago we learned that the Bolshevik agents were on our tail and we managed to find a ship to bring us to Constantinople. It cost us the last roubles we had left in our possession.”

  “And now you want to reach Cairo?” the Duke said, as the Prince finished speaking.

  “I have a little money in a bank there,” the Prince answered, “and I also have friends who might help me find employment of some sort, while Alexander is determined to join the Foreign Legion.”

  “It sounds a reasonable request,” the Duke said, “and you could have asked me to take you without threatening me with a gun.”

  “And have you go back on your word like your King?” the Prince snapped.

  The way he spoke told the Duke how bitterly he resented how King George V had at first promised the Imperial Family asylum in England after the Revolution had started and then changed his mind.

  It had been agreed at a Cabinet meeting that an invitation should be sent to the Czar and Czarina and their children to come to England. They had asked if they could join their cousins King George and Queen Mary and for two and a half years of war Russia had proved herself a dependable ally.

  No sooner had the invitation been sent than King George V began to regret it. His secretary, Lord Stamfordham wrote to the Russian Foreign Secretary telling him of the King’s concern about the remarks that Labour Members of Parliament were making in the House of Commons.

  The King began to wonder if a different plan could not be made and a few days later the Russian Foreign Secretary was informed that opposition to the Emperor and Empress of Russia coming to England was so strong that the invitation was withdrawn.

  The Duke like many other aristocrats at the time thought it extremely shabby behaviour on the part of the English, which would be deeply resented by those Russian aristocrats who
were still alive.

  “No,” Prince Ivan was saying, “I cannot trust you after saying that you will help us, not to decide when you are safely back in your yacht that you have no wish to be involved and leave us to our fate.”

  “If you will not accept my word that I am willing to help you,” the Duke said, “what other method do you suggest?”

  “The Princess,” Prince Ivan replied, “who has seen your yacht has suggested that I must keep you here as a prisoner until the Grand Duke is safely aboard, when we will release you. And make no mistake, my revolver will be pointed at your heart until the yacht is out of Turkish waters.”

  “A very clever idea!” the Duke conceded. “At the same time, if you are being followed, as you say, is it not reasonable to think that the Bolshevik agents, if they are watching the yacht, will notice a number of strangers not particularly well dressed going aboard?”

  There was silence and, as the Duke saw that the Prince was seeing the common sense of this argument, he continued, “There will also be a definite interval while my letter, which I imagine you intend to force me to write, is taken to the Captain and any gunman would be able to pick off his victims one by one as they stand on deck.”

  The Prince gave a little sigh and lowered his revolver.

  He looked at the Princess and said,

  “I told you it was a hopeless idea. What does it really matter if they shoot us down here or on the quay? We are still caught like rats in a trap!”

  She made a little sound that was a stifled cry before the Duke said,

  “Now you listen to me!”

  The Russians turned their faces towards him and he knew that he held their attention.

  “I am perfectly prepared,” he said, “to help the Grand Duke and may I say before we go any further that I personally as an Englishman deeply deplore the way that the Czar and Czarina were treated by King George!”

  “That does not bring them back to life or erase the hideous manner in which they were assassinated,” Princess Militsa said.

  “I agree,” the Duke replied, “but there is nothing we can do for them now. However, I intend, if it is humanly possible, to save the Grand Duke and you, but we shall have to be intelligent about it.”

  The Prince moved nearer to him, but the Princess stayed where she was.

  “I have to think this out carefully,” the Duke continued. “For the moment I think the best thing would be for me to hire a car, which I believe is possible, and announce that I am going sightseeing.”

  He spoke slowly as if he was planning it out move by move as Harry had seen him plan a military campaign in the desert.

  “Is there a wood near here?” he asked unexpectedly.

  “Yes,” the Prince answered, “there is a small wood a little way from this house. A side road leading off the main highway passes through the centre of it and the trees grow down to the edge.”

  “Good!” the Duke exclaimed. “Now what you have to do is to get His Royal Highness as far as the wood.”

  “He is very ill,” the Princess said in a low voice. “He ought not to be moved.”

  “We have to move him,” Prince Ivan answered sharply.

  She lapsed into silence and the Duke went on,

  “I will collect you in the car and will arrange for the other members of the yacht party, which includes two women, to go shopping. If anybody is watching the yacht, they will see five people leave and five return and we hope that they will not realise there is a woman short.”

  The Prince waited for an explanation and the Duke said,

  “I will bring with me in the car a yachting cap for the Grand Duke like the one I shall be wearing myself and an overcoat to cover him. He will take the place of my friend here, Sir Harold Nuneaton. The Princess will be provided with a hat, a scarf and a coat which, if she hurries aboard, will make her look like one of my women guests who will have been left in the town. There will also be clothes for you and Prince Alexander.”

  They were all listening intently and the Duke carried on,

  “Harry will wait with the others and later they will join the yacht by boat. You four will be safely aboard before Harry and the rest of my party climb up a rope ladder on the opposite side of the ship. It will be difficult for anyone watching to see them and if they do it will be too late to do anything about it!”

  He glanced at Harry before he added,

  “If, as a British subject, one of my guests should be shot, I assure you it will cause an international scandal.”

  “It sounds an excellent idea, Your Grace,” the Prince answered, “but it means we have to allow you to leave here trusting you to come back.”

  “I can only give you my word,” the Duke replied, “that I shall be with you tomorrow morning, shall we say at about eleven o’clock? I think to be very early or very late is bound to cause more attention than if we move about at the busiest time of the day.”

  Prince Ivan nodded and the Duke rose to his feet.

  “Now,” he said, “I would like to meet the Grand Duke. I have a feeling that however sceptical you three may be, he will trust me.”

  He walked towards the door where the Princess was standing.

  For a moment she did not move and the Duke had the feeling that she wished to prevent him from seeing her father.

  Then, as his eyes met hers, she capitulated and moved aside.

  The Duke opened the door and walked into a room that was nearly as large as the one he had just left, but just as empty with the exception that lying on a bundle of rags, sacks and straw was an elderly man.

  It was difficult for him to recognise the Grand Duke he had last seen resplendent in the uniform of a Field Marshal and blazing with decorations at a ball given at the Winter Palace.

  Over six foot two inches in height, he had been a commanding figure who had won the admiration not only of the women whom he attracted but also of the men he commanded.

  Now he seemed to have shrunk, his hair was dead white and his high cheekbones were sharply prominent. But he was still good-looking and unlike the younger men he had an aura of authority about him, which was not weakened either by the rags he wore or the sacks he lay on.

  As the Duke approached him, he put out his hand.

  “I remember Your Grace,” he said in a weak voice, “but we meet in very different circumstances.”

  “Very different, Your Royal Highness,” the Duke agreed, “but I have devised a plan that I have told Prince Ivan and your daughter, by which we can come you on board my yacht and carry you to safety.”

  The Grand Duke’s hand was very cold, almost as if the shadow of death was upon him, but there was a warmth in his voice as he replied,

  “I thank you. I do not worry for myself, but for my daughter. She is young and our sufferings these last three years have been almost intolerable.”

  “I can understand your feelings,” the Duke replied, “but I believe, Your Royal Highness, that the worst is now behind you and you must trust me to get you away from here as quickly as possible.”

  The Duke knew that the others were listening to the answer the Grand Duke would give.

  “I trust you, Buckminster,” he said, “not with my life, which is unimportant, but with the lives of these three young people.”

  The Duke bowed his head in the correct fashion accorded to Royalty.

  Then, as he saw the Grand Duke’s eyes close, as if he was very tired, he turned and walked back into the other room.

  “As His Royal Highness trusts me,” he said, as the Princess closed the door, “I presume you will do the same?”

  “I hope you will not betray us,” the Prince said. “But you must realise that one unwary word, one whisper of where we are and tomorrow if you come to collect us, we shall all be dead!”

  The Duke did not reply to this. He merely walked to the wooden box where Harry had been sitting.

  When they left the yacht on the Duke’s instructions he had been carrying a parcel, which he had tucked
under his arm. It was wrapped up in brown paper and the Duke now picked it up off the floor.

  “I remembered when I was coming to see Your Highness,” he said to Prince Ivan, “that it is a Russian custom that a guest should always arrive with a present for his host. I have brought you something I thought you might appreciate and I hope that you will accept it.”

  The Prince frowned for a moment as if he thought the Duke was deliberately underlining his own inhospitable reception.

  Then with a sudden change of mood he smiled and, despite his beard, it made him look as young as he was in actual years.

  “I thank Your Grace and, although I have no idea what your present can be, I can assure that you I accept it with gratitude.”

  “Now I think we should return,” the Duke said. “There are a great many plans to make before eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  The Prince gave a little laugh that somehow seemed strange after the solemnity of the way they had been talking up until now.

  “The carriage awaits Your Grace!” he announced, “and here is your coachman!”

  He made a gesture with his hand, as he spoke, towards Prince Alexander, who grinned.

  “We would not dare trust anyone else,” the Prince explained, “and naturally we borrowed the carriage and horse without its owner’s knowledge. I can only pray that they will not hang us for horse stealing!”

  “That would be an unnecessary disaster!” the Duke agreed lightly.

  Prince Alexander hurried away and the Duke turned to the Princess who was standing near the door to her father’s room.

  “Goodnight, Your Serene Highness,” he said with a Royal bow.

  “Goodnight, Your Grace,” she replied.

  Her voice was as cold and distant as it had been before and he had a feeling, although it seemed quite unreasonable, that she was hating him.

  Then the Prince escorted them down the dark passage to the front door and peeped through it until the carriage appeared.

  “This house was empty,” he said in a low voice, “and we hope that no one knows it is now occupied.”

  That was what the Duke had suspected, but at that moment the carriage came down the road from where Prince Alexander had concealed it.