When they went into dinner, Alana found that while Charlotte sat on the Prince’s right and Lady Odele played hostess at the other end of the long table, she was relegated, despite her supposed rank, to a position far removed from the Prince.
She thought that if she had been genuinely Shane’s cousin, she might have felt insulted by such treatment.
But she told herself with a little smile that it was not for her to criticise, but only to be aware that Lady Odele resented her as a possible enemy. And that was a compliment in itself.
The dinner was an enchantment that she had never encountered before.
The table was decorated with gold candelabra and other magnificent gold ornaments and the first course was served on gold plate, which was something that she had only read about in books.
In the Musicians’ Gallery, behind an ancient carved screen, soft music played all the way through the meal.
Alana wished to listen to it, but her dinner partners were both sporting gentlemen who talked loudly and laughed even louder.
She had to force herself to concentrate on what they were saying.
It was impossible, however, not to steal a glance occasionally at the Prince, sitting in a high-backed chair that looked, she thought, as if it should be a Throne.
She wondered if he was enjoying himself.
She was aware that Charlotte was deliberately concentrating on the man on her right and making no effort to entertain her host.
Once or twice she caught the Viscount’s eye, who was sitting on the other side of the table and she thought that he seemed pleased with the way things were going, but she herself was not so sure.
Already Lady Odele was on her guard and she had the feeling that she at any rate would fight like a tiger to see that her plans for her niece were not disrupted by anyone, whoever she might be.
After dinner, when the ladies withdrew from the dining room, Lady Odele said to Alana with a sharpness in her voice that was unmistakable,
“I should have thought as a debutante, as Charlotte assures me you are, you would have realised that the orchids you have chosen are very out of place, especially the one on your neck.”
“I am sorry,” Alana replied meekly, “but they were so beautiful I could not resist them.”
“Another evening I think it would be wisest for you to stick to white,” Lady Odele said crushingly.
She swept away and Alana was left in no doubt that her appearance was displeasing.
It was, however, exciting when the gentlemen moved not into the large ballroom but into another lovely salon, from which the furniture had been cleared and which was lit by a huge chandelier of hundreds of candles.
Here there was a string orchestra and, as soon as they played the soft rhythmic strains of the waltz, Alana realised that she longed to dance.
When the Viscount led her onto the floor, she asked him,
“How can I ever thank you for what has already been an unforgettable experience.”
“You look even more beautiful than I expected you would,” he said and she knew that he meant it.
“Lady Odele has already found fault with me for choosing to wear an orchid of this colour.”
“I expect she saw, as I did, that the Prince was speaking to you before dinner,” the Viscount replied. “What was he saying to you?”
There was a note that might have been jealousy in his voice and Alana replied truthfully,
“We were talking about orchids. Apparently he is very interested in them and has varieties here from all over the world.”
“He is interested in everything, as he can afford to be.”
Alana danced with Shane and then with two other men in the party and saw that the Prince was dancing with Charlotte.
Then, as the next dance started, she heard him ask,
“May I have the pleasure of this dance, Lady Alana?”
She found herself turning to him almost eagerly.
“Thank you. I feel in this lovely room as if I had wings on my feet.”
“As long as they don’t fly you away,” he replied, “I am delighted for you to have them or anything else that pleases you.”
Alana gave a little laugh.
“Why are you laughing?” the Prince asked.
“Because you say things that seem to come out of a book or a play and make me feel, as I have ever since I arrived here, that nothing is real but only make-believe.”
“I assure you it is very real.”
“Only to you.”
“Why do you say that?”
She looked up at him with amusement in her eyes.
“Surely you realise that you are part of a Fairytale, The Arabian Nights, if you like. When I heard about you, I knew that you could only have been invented by someone with a very fertile brain.”
The Prince smiled.
“I think you will find that people who know me well reckon that I am real and, if you like, very human.”
“I am told that we always have illusions about ourselves,” Alana said provocatively, “and I am sure, Your Highness, that we could go on talking about your personal charms all night and still not come to any agreed conclusions.”
“What have you heard about me?” the Prince asked. “And from whom?”
Alana smiled.
“Even in the Irish bogs the frogs croak about you, while the birds fly across the Irish Sea with pieces of gossip instead of corn in their beaks.”
“Now you surprise me,” the Prince remarked.
“That again is another illusion. You must be aware that wherever you go, they talk about you. Why not admit it and – enjoy it?”
The Prince laughed and then he asked,
“What do you think about what you hear? Or rather should I ask you what do you think now that you have met me?”
“What do you expect me to say to that?” Alana answered. “That I am overwhelmed or that I am stunned into silence with Your Highness’s consequence?”
“Now you are mocking me,” the Prince said, “which is something I am not used to.”
“No, of course not,” Alana agreed. “I am told that everyone bows down in worship, but have you ever asked yourself whether it is you or your position that evokes such devotion?”
“Now you are definitely being impertinent,” the Prince responded sharply.
He swung her round in a waltz too rapidly for her to be able to speak for some time.
Then, when they were moving a little slower, she said,
“I am – sorry if I have been rude. You must – forgive me.”
“Not rude exactly,” the Prince replied, “but perhaps I am not used to such frankness.”
He knew by the way that Alana’s lips curved what she was thinking.
“I cannot believe that everyone I know pays me only lip service as you insinuate,” he commented almost angrily.
“If I am being unkind in spoiling your illusions,” she replied, “you must excuse me. You must put it down to the fact that I am not used to such exalted company and I do not know how to behave.”
“I thought young girls of your age were sweet and gentle,” the Prince said, “and looked at the world through rose-coloured glasses.”
“Of course they do, but sometimes what they see is so dazzling that they take them off.”
“Again I have the uncomfortable feeling, Lady Alana, that you are laughing at me.”
Alana sighed.
“I apologise and I did so want you to enjoy your first dance with me. Perhaps now you will never ask me again.”
“I shall most certainly ask you again, as I wish to continue our conversation,” the Prince stated firmly, “but I admit to being a little bewildered. You are not at all what I had expected.”
Alana made a little gesture with her hand.
“There are plenty of young girls here tonight who will say and do exactly what Your Highness expects.”
“You know without my saying it,” the Prince said shortly, “that I should f
ind them extremely boring.”
“Then you must not complain if I shock you.”
“I am not shocked, ‘curious’ is the right word. How old are you?”
“The same age as Charlotte.”
“I don’t believe it!”
“All right, I am very old, but I have found the secret of eternal youth, which man has been seeking since the beginning of time.”
“I am prepared to believe that your brain at any rate is a hundred years old!”
“So little? Then I must have at least a million more lives before I can approach Your Highness on equal terms.”
His eyes narrowed for a moment.
“Are you talking about reincarnation?”
“I thought that was what you were referring to, only somewhat insultingly.”
He looked at her and she felt as if they were duellists, weighing each other up before they raised their swords.
Then Lady Odele was beside them, saying to the Prince with an unmistakable edge to her voice,
“Really, Your Highness, I should have thought it unnecessary to stand in the centre of the ballroom if you wish to have a conversation with Lady Alana. Dear little Charlotte is longing to dance with you again, as she has just told me.”
The Prince turned towards Alana, but already, as if he knew what was happening, the Viscount was at her side.
“You promised me the next dance, Alana.”
“Yes, of course,” Alana replied.
She smiled at the Prince.
“I thank you, Your Highness, for the most enjoyable dance I have ever had in my whole life.”
She thought that Lady Odele almost snorted, but she took hold of Richard’s arm and he drew her away.
They walked out of the ballroom before he quizzed her,
“What was happening? I could see that something was going on.”
“I was doing exactly what you told me to do,” Alana replied, “and I think that the Prince was surprised that I dared talk to him as I did.”
“What did you talk about?” Richard asked curiously.
“Him and reincarnation.”
“Good Heavens! No wonder he was astonished.”
Alana gave a little sigh.
She was thinking that what she had said to the Prince had been familiar to her because she had discussed so much about the East with her father in the past.
They had often argued over the subjects of rebirth and the secrets that were reputed to be hidden by the Priests of obscure, often forgotten religions and what Mr. Wickham had called ‘the esoteric language of the Sages’.
Of course, Alana told herself, the Prince had been surprised that a girl of eighteen, a debutante from the wilds of Ireland, should be aware of such things and be able to duel with him in words.
She had read all the books on the East that she was able to obtain and there was a special reason for her interest that she was not prepared to tell anyone.
Lady Odele saw to it that the Prince did not ask Alana to dance with him again.
In the early hours of the morning Alana realised that neither Charlotte nor Shane were in the ballroom and she looked anxiously for the Viscount so that she could warn him that they were behaving indiscreetly.
Then unexpectedly the Prince was beside her.
“You are looking worried,” he enquired. “What can be perturbing you?”
“How could I be worried when everything is so delightful and I have enjoyed the evening more than I can tell Your Highness?”
“That sounds very plausible, but just now when you were looking round the room there was a worried expression in your eyes.”
Alana did not reply and after a moment he said,
“You have the strangest eyes I have ever seen on any woman. They are very expressive. And yet they are not.”
“Surely that is a contradiction in terms,” Alana said lightly.
“Shall I say that there is something mysterious about them? They can express very eloquently what is on the surface, while at the same time they hide secrets that for the moment I cannot penetrate.”
“And would you wish to?” she enquired. “I am extremely flattered by Your Highness’s interest.”
“If you talk to me like that, I think I shall spank you,” he replied. “Just now when we were speaking seriously, I found it enthralling. Now you are being superficial and I cannot bear the artificiality of it.”
“I feel when you planned this party that you did not mean it to be serious,” Alana answered, “so, like a chameleon, I am trying to attune myself to the atmosphere that I find myself in.”
“Then let me show you a very different atmosphere,” the Prince suggested. “I want to see your reaction to it.”
He put his hand on her bare arm to draw her the way he wished her to go and Alana thought that it gave her a strange sensation she had not known before.
She could not explain it and she did not wish to.
She knew only that she wanted to go with him and she had no compunction in doing so, because it was all part of Richard’s plan.
He guided her along a wide corridor and nearly at the end of it opened a door.
The room was lit not with the gaslight that was to be found in the rest of The Castle but with dozens of tall candles set in elaborately carved gold candlesticks that might have come from some great Cathedral.
They illuminated walls lined with gold silk that were covered with icons.
At a first glance Alana knew that they were very old and very beautiful. There were literally hundreds of them stretching from the floor almost to the ceiling, some of them primitive and faded, others set with precious stones that glittered in the candlelight.
There were also several that were of enamel on pure gold and she thought that, while they were not the most colourful, they were probably the most valuable of them all.
She stood looking round and felt almost as if the icons spoke to her. There seemed to be a radiance from them or rather a vibration that had been in them all through the centuries.
She believed that it was the faith that had been poured into them by those who worshipped and prayed to them until they had become vessels through which the power of God could flow back to those who needed it.
She sensed it and she felt the power and force of it until she forgot everything else, even the Prince standing beside her.
For a moment she felt as if she was swept on a strong wave of pure faith towards God Himself.
This was what she tried to find in her prayers and which she had always known was there. The irresistible radiance of the Divine.
She wanted to fall on her knees, but the Prince’s voice broke the spell that bound her as she heard him say very softly,
“Tell me what you are feeling.”
With an effort she took her eyes from the icons to look at him and she thought in the candlelight he seemed to be taller and even more vibrant than he had before.
Then, as if she was compelled to answer him, she said,
“You know there are no – words, but you – feel the – same. That is why you brought me here.”
“I want you to tell me.”
Alana looked again at the icons and answered in a voice that he could barely hear,
“How can I describe the revelation of beauty to the mind? How can I explain a vibration that touches the soul?”
She paused and then went on slowly and almost inaudibly,
“God speaks – here and I know you – hear Him too.”
She turned her face towards the Prince and asked,
“How can it be – possible that you – feel as I – do?”
“That is something that there is no answer to.”
Alana gazed again at the icons.
“This is what I have – always sought and now that I have – found it, I know that there are no horizons – only infinity.”
The Prince did not speak, but he took her hand and drew her from the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
In the corridor he said,
“I think, for some reason that I cannot comprehend, we are both bewitched. I do not wish to talk about it tonight.”
Almost briskly he started to walk back the way they had come and in a few seconds they heard the chatter of voices and the music of an energetic polka.
CHAPTER FOUR
As Charlotte and Alana went upstairs after tea to rest, as Lady Odele had ordered them to do, Charlotte said,
“Come into my room. I want to talk to you.”
As soon as they were both inside and the door was closed, she exclaimed,
“Alana, I am frightened! Aunt Odele would not let the Prince leave my side all today and I feel sure that at any moment – he will ask me to marry him. And then I am – lost!”
Alana sat down in a chair, knowing that Charlotte was not exaggerating when she said that Lady Odele had kept her and the Prince together almost by compulsion.
There had been no mistaking the anger in Lady Odele’s eyes when last night she and the Prince had returned to the ballroom and even though the Prince immediately danced with somebody else, Alana knew that the suspicion was there and that nothing she could say or do would change it.
When Alana had eventually gone to bed, she had lain awake for a long time in the darkness, even though it was so late, thinking over what had happened and finding it all very difficult to understand.
It was not only the strangeness of her own reaction when the Prince had taken her to the room with the icons, but she had been aware that what she had felt in their presence was exactly the same emotion as they aroused in their owner.
She had no idea how or why she knew this, she only knew that what she had said when he asked her what she felt had come to her lips spontaneously. She had had no time to think and it was as if he had forced her to tell the truth.
That he should have such an intriguing room hidden away in Charl Castle was astonishing in itself.
It did not fit in with his reputation of being a rich man in search of pleasure or with the picture of the brilliant intelligent Cosmopolitan whom Politicians and Statesmen admired.
Never in all the gossip about him or stories in the newspapers had there been any reference to a spiritual side of his character or that he was in any way religious.
‘I just don’t understand,’ Alana said to herself.
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