Mission to Monte Carlo

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Mission to Monte Carlo Page 8

by Barbara Cartland

When they were out of earshot, Zsi-Zsi said,

  “Oo-la,-la! I hope you are grateful. Never have I met a more boring man who can talk only about himself!”

  “I am grateful.”

  “That lovely woman! What can she see in him?” Zsi-Zsi asked. “He has nothing interesting to say, he dances like an elephant and is so conceited that he believed me when I said he was a good dancer!”

  “Suppose you dance with me?” Craig said. “Then you can forget Neasdon.”

  “I would love it later,” Zsi-Zsi replied, “but first I must see if there is anything Boris wants and greet some new arrivals.”

  She moved away and, as she did so, Craig was aware that Lord Neasdon was taking the Countess into the garden.

  It suddenly struck him that if she had been afraid their conversation would be overheard, there was no reason why he should not listen to theirs.

  The band was playing a spirited dance that had brought almost all the guests except those sitting at the card tables onto the dance floor.

  Casually, as if he was enjoying the night air, Craig walked out under the trees and saw Lord Neasdon and the Countess moving down the path lit with fairy lights to the arbours on the other side of the garden from where he had taken her.

  He watched them until he saw with satisfaction that they moved into an arbour that was surrounded by bushes and lit by several Chinese lanterns in the overhanging trees.

  Only as they disappeared out of view, did he move swiftly in the direction of the shrubs and, walking quietly through them, he went to the back of the arbour where they were now sitting.

  As he reached it, he heard Lord Neasdon’s voice say,

  “You are enjoying yourself?”

  “Very much,” the Countess replied. “It is very kind of you to bring me to such a – delightful party.”

  “The Grand Duke Boris gives them very frequently when he is in Monte Carlo.”

  “He is very distinguished.”

  “I believe a number of women find him so,” Lord Neasdon added somewhat contemptuously.

  “It is – strange,” the Countess said a little tentatively, “that there should be so many English people at the party when I thought the English were angry with the Russians.”

  “Why should you think that?”

  “I heard – although it may be wrong – that there is – friction between the Russians and the English – concerning India.”

  There was silence, almost as if Lord Neasdon was thinking what he should say.

  Then he replied,

  “You must not believe all you hear.”

  “But it is true, is it not, that the Russians have made the British Government – very angry?”

  “I don’t know what you have heard,” Lord Neasdon said, “but there is always a lot of tittle-tattle if there is any movement of troops and, if a few shots are fired on the frontier, it becomes a ‘battle’.”

  There was a little silence.

  Then the Countess said,

  “You do not – think there could be – war between our – two nations? That would be – terrible!”

  “There is no fear of that,” Lord Neasdon said, “and I assure you the British have the whole situation very well in hand.”

  “You mean they will not – allow there to be a war, even if Russia should – wish it?”

  Lord Neasdon laughed unpleasantly.

  “The English can stand up to the Russians and, if there are a few scuffles between us on the North-West frontier, they would not defeat us.”

  “You are quite – sure of – that?”

  “Very very sure.”

  The Countess gave a little sigh.

  “That means that the British have lots of troops in India to prevent any Russian – infiltration into – Afghanistan.”

  She spoke as if she was afraid of the idea and Lord Neasdon said,

  “Now don’t worry your pretty head, Aloya. I promise you there will be no war and even if there is one I will look after you and protect you.”

  “That might be – difficult if our – countries are – enemies.”

  “I shall never be your enemy,” he said. “Let me show you how well I will look after you.”

  He must have put his arm around the Countess, for Craig listening heard her give a little scream as she said,

  “No – no – please, you must not do that – here! It would be very – indiscreet.”

  “Nobody can see us,” Lord Neasdon objected, “and you know quite well you are driving me mad! You promised you would let me love you when we knew each other better and I think it is time you began to keep your promise.”

  “We – have known – each other such a – little time,” the Countess said in a voice that sounded terrified.

  “Long enough for me to know that I want you and love you!” Lord Neasdon said. “Why should you be faithful to this husband of yours who allows you to wander about the world alone instead of looking after you as he should do?”

  “He is still – my husband and I am – fond of him.”

  “If he is fond of you, he would look after you properly,” Lord Neasdon said firmly. “But I am here, and you have told me you find me interesting and attractive, while I find you adorable and very very desirable.”

  He paused and, when she did not speak, he added,

  “Let me come to your room tonight and show you how much you mean to me and how happy we could be together.”

  “Oh – no – not tonight,” the Countess said hastily. “It is – too soon, much – too soon.”

  There was a frantic, desperate note in her voice as she said,

  “You know I like to be with you, I like to talk to you and listen to you. You are so interesting and you can teach me so much about the world – a world of which I know very little.”

  “A world in which you shine brilliantly!” Lord Neasdon said. “There is no woman in the whole of Monte Carlo to equal you and I am very proud.”

  He spoke in a complacent manner that made Craig feel that he wanted to hit him, as he went on,

  “Now that the Grand Duke has asked us here tonight we shall have many invitations together and I think I can introduce you to people you would otherwise not meet and whom you will find very interesting.”

  “I am quite – content to be with – you,” the Countess said in a small voice. “You talk to me of – all the things I – want to know.”

  “I want to talk about ourselves,” Lord Neasdon said, “and quite frankly, Aloya, it does not particularly concern me whether our countrymen prance about on the North-West Frontier or try to invade Tibet when all I want is to invade your bedroom.”

  There was another little silence and then the Countess said,

  “That might be just – as difficult as – invading Tibet!”

  “I am a very determined man.”

  “I keep – thinking of – my husband.”

  “Then forget him!”

  “I try – but it is – difficult.”

  “Not for me.”

  The Countess gave a little laugh, which Craig was certain was forced.

  “Am I – really like – Tibet?”

  “Of course you are,” Lord Neasdon said, “Mysterious, unknown and impenetrable, except of course, to me!”

  “That is very complimentary, but perhaps the – barriers that will keep out the Russians will also prove – impenetrable to you.”

  “That is for you to say, but I am confident that whatever barriers and obstacles there are, I shall be able to sweep them away. Let me kiss you now and show you how easily they can vanish when one is in love.”

  “No – no – this is not the – right place! I would be very – embarrassed to go back into the salon looking – dishevelled.”

  Lord Neasdon did not reply and somehow Craig was aware that the Countess had risen to her feet.

  “We shall be – talked about,” she persisted, “if we stay here for too long and that would be bad for your reputation as – well as – min
e. After all – you are a very important and – distinguished member of the – British Foreign Office.”

  “I am glad you think so,” Lord Neasdon replied, “and perhaps you are right. We can talk about ourselves later when we return to the hotel.”

  “That would be a – mistake!” the Countess said quickly. “If you came into my room, my maid – might talk and my husband is very – jealous.”

  “Damn and blast him!” Lord Neasdon responded with more feeling in his voice than there had been before.

  Craig was aware that they were now out of the arbour and moving back towards the villa, their voices gradually fading into the distance until he could hear them no more.

  He stood where he was behind the arbour thinking it would be a mistake to move until they were completely out of sight.

  He knew now that the Marquis had been right in thinking that the Countess was a Russian spy, who was attempting to obtain information from Lord Neasdon.

  It had been a mistake on his part to mention Tibet. At the same time Craig was aware that the Countess’s efforts were extremely amateurish and very obvious to any man who was not puffed up with his own conceit.

  Lord Neasdon must surely be aware of what was happening and yet Craig had the feeling that he was so naïve and perhaps in a way so blinded by desire, that he was oblivious of the dangers he was in and of those who were using the Countess as a tool.

  As he moved slowly and by a different route back into the garden and then to the villa, he knew that whatever the Countess was doing she was not doing it willingly.

  He was, in fact, quite certain that the Russians who were making her act as a spy on their behalf had ordered her to take Lord Neasdon as her lover and she was fighting desperately not to do so.

  He had listened closely to every intonation in her voice while she was speaking to Lord Neasdon.

  She was not only afraid, as she had confessed to being when she was with him, but twisting and turning with the desperate agility of a small animal to extricate herself from the situation she found herself in.

  When he went over it step by step, Craig thought it had been clever of the Russians in the first place to find anybody so spectacular and so unusually beautiful to work in a place where beautiful women of every class abounded.

  It was, however, obvious that this was her first assignment and Craig was willing to wager a very large sum of money that she had taken it on because she had been forced to do so.

  Therefore he had to discover why she was so frightened of her Russian masters that she had to obey them, and secondly how he could help her personally as well as prevent her from obtaining information from Lord Neasdon that the Foreign Office had been afraid he might be indiscreet enough to disclose.

  It seemed to Craig absolutely incredible that in his position Lord Neasdon should not realise that it was unthinkable for him to take a Russian mistress at this particular moment when the reports from India were so serious.

  And yet he supposed that Neasdon, having had all his experience in the Diplomatic Service in European Capitals, had had little contact with Russians or knowledge of their aspirations in the East.

  Only a few people in fact, knew it at the moment that Russia might be contemplating an invasion of Tibet, which was perturbing men of authority in India and the Heads of the Foreign Office in London.

  Yet according to the Marquis, Neasdon had learnt enough for it to be important that on that subject, if on nothing else, he must keep his mouth shut.

  Craig was quite certain that the fact that he had mentioned Tibet at all would be immediately repeated by the Countess to whoever was taking her reports back to a higher authority.

  It was then that it suddenly struck him that Baron Strogolof might be playing some part in this strange scenario.

  It was certainly a mystery that there should be two of his yachts in Monte Carlo and that his guests, if he had any, never came ashore and he came only to attend the theatre.

  ‘One thing is obvious,’ Craig said to himself, ‘I have somehow to make the acquaintance of the Baron.’

  Then, as he reached the lighted windows of the villa, he walked in smiling, determined to assume once more the guise of an American Playboy as he went to find Zsi-Zsi and dance with her.

  *

  The following morning, having played four strenuous sets of tennis and seen his latest motor car, which he was confident would win first prize in the Concours d’Eligance, Craig strolled onto the terrace below the Casino before luncheon.

  Every head was turned in his direction, hands were held out to him in greeting and he completed almost a Royal progress before he saw seated at a table Lord Neasdon and the Countess.

  They were looking rather gloomy and he thought, although he could not be sure, that, as he walked towards them, there was a sudden light in the Countess’s strange and beautiful eyes.

  “Good morning, madame!” he called, sweeping his yachting cap from his head. “Good-morning, Neasdon! Did you enjoy the party last night?”

  “Very much,” Lord Neasdon replied. “The Grand Duke lived up to his reputation of being an excellent host.”

  “I did not stay very late,” Craig said. “I went on to another party which was actually not so amusing.”

  The truth was that he had left immediately after he had danced with Zsi-Zsi and on arrival at the Hotel de Paris had waited in the adjoining room to the Countess’s in case she should need him.

  Whatever the difficulties, she had obviously persuaded Lord Neasdon to leave her alone that night and the only voice he heard in her room was that of her Russian maid.

  Craig had opened the communicating door on his side quite easily without invoking the aid of a servant.

  There were few doors that stayed locked to him after the years in which he had undertaken missions for the Marquis – and silently, with hardly a creak, the door had surrendered to his expert hands.

  Once it was open he could hear quite clearly everything that was said in the next room.

  He knew only a smattering of Russian, finding it a very difficult language, but he had learnt enough to know that the maid with what he thought was an impertinent presumption was asking the Countess questions about the evening and she was answering in monosyllables.

  Only when she presumably was undressed and ready for bed had the maid left her, saying goodnight and closing the outer door noisily behind her.

  It was then that Craig had debated whether he should knock and tell the Countess he was there, but quickly decided it would be a mistake.

  Because she was so frightened, so sure she was being watched, the Russians might easily be tricking her into a false sense of security when they were actually still keeping her under observation.

  He therefore waited for an hour in case she slipped a piece of paper under the door, but when she did not do so, he put the door on his side very quietly back into place and went to bed.

  As he stood at their table, there was really nothing Lord Neasdon could do except say,

  “Do sit down! Would you like a drink?”

  “That is very kind of you,” Craig answered, “but I must not stay long. I have promised to meet some friends, but they are not here yet.”

  As Lord Neasdon called a waiter and asked for a glass of sherry, Craig turned towards the Countess and enquired conversationally,

  “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

  “It was a lovely party,” the Countess replied, “and very kind of Lord Neasdon to take me with him.”

  “You are lucky I know so many people in Monte Carlo,” Lord Neasdon replied and then he said to Craig, “I have promised the Countess that I shall be able to take her to quite a number of parties because, as you know only too well, Vandervelt, there are half-a-dozen taking place nearly every night.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Craig agreed, “although some of them are doubtless extremely boring.”

  “That is what I have found,” Lord Neasdon agreed, “but one can always pick and choos
e.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  The sherry was put down beside Craig and he took a sip before he said,

  “There seem to be a dozen more ships here than there were yesterday. Have you been aboard the Russian yachts?”

  Craig asked the question of the Countess without seeming to have any particular reason for doing so.

  Then, as he saw a sudden shocked expression in her eyes, he knew that he had put his finger unerringly on something he should have been aware of before.

  There was a perceptible pause before she answered,

  “No, no – I have not,” but he knew that she lied.

  *

  After lunching with his friends and taking one of them on a drive, Craig went to the Chapel of St. Dévoté after it was dark.

  He entered the Church tentatively just in case he was too early and the Countess was there.

  But there was no sign of her and he walked quickly to the confessional, sure that in the darkness relieved only by the candles in front of the Saints, he would be unobserved.

  Father Augustin was waiting for him and said as soon as he knelt down,

  “I have some news for you, my son.”

  “I would be greatly relieved to hear it, Father.”

  “I am afraid it will not be what you wish to hear.”

  “Tell me!”

  “The man you seek left his lodgings because he was afraid. I could not find out why or where he was going, but he had somewhere to go.”

  Father Augustin paused for a moment.

  Then he said,

  “My informant thinks he was either misled into a belief that his new hiding place would be better than the old or else it was a trap. Anyway, before he could reach his destination two men apprehended him and took him to the harbour.”

  Craig stiffened and then knew exactly what he was going to hear.

  “He was taken aboard the Russian yacht, ‘Czarevitch’ which is lying beside the ‘Czarina’.”

  Craig sighed.

  “Thank you, Father. I am more grateful than I can say in words.”

  “I am already grateful to you, my son, for your gratitude yesterday.”

  “Which I will express even more fully as I leave.”

  “Thank you. If I can help you again, you have only to come here at this time.”

 

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