Crowned with Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “Are those your ancestors?” she asked, indicating the pictures. “I hope you will tell me about them.”

  The King walked from the desk towards her.

  “What I am telling you,” he said in a voice of thunder, “is that now you are in my country you will behave yourself. How dare you ask the scum of the gutter into my Palace! How dare you entertain them with my food! It is something you will not do again!”

  “Why not?” Giona asked. “I fail to see anything sinister in the fact that a few women should call on their future Queen – because they realise that she is fond of children.”

  “You are arguing with me,” the King fumed, “and you must understand that is something I cannot have! How dare you defy me? If you think that you can bring your British arrogance and your British contempt for foreigners here, you are very much mistaken!”

  He almost spat the words at her.

  Then when she involuntarily looked away from him, embarrassed by the fury she saw in his face, he suddenly raised his hand and struck her violently across the cheek, saying,

  “Listen to me, curse you! I will have no British defiance or British superiority in my Palace and the sooner you learn that the better!”

  Half-stunned by the blow, Giona only just had time to look at him in sheer astonishment before he seized her by her shoulders and began to shake her.

  He was a large strong man and he shook her violently, as a terrier might shake a rabbit, until the pins fell from her head and her hair was shaken down over her shoulders.

  He went on shaking her, rocking her backwards and forwards so roughly that the breath was squeezed from her body and she could not even see him let alone beg him to stop.

  Then suddenly, before she could make a sound of fear, he flung her down onto the leather sofa so that she hit her head against the hard cushion.

  “That will teach you to do as you are told!” he roared. “And the next time you disobey my orders I will beat you until you learn the folly of doing so!”

  He paused for breath before he went on, working himself up into a rage that seemed almost to make him foam at the mouth.

  “I have no intention of being defied by my wife because she comes from a country that tries to impose its will upon the whole of Europe! I am not afraid of your Queen Victoria, omnipotent though she may think she is, and I will make sure that you do not argue let alone disobey me by whipping you as all revolutionaries, whoever they may be, should be whipped!”

  He looked down at her and Giona thought with a sudden stab of fear that he was going to hit her again.

  Instead she realised as he did not go on speaking that suddenly a different expression had come into his eyes.

  They had narrowed and she thought, as his lips parted and he was still silent, that there was something sinister and horrifying about him that had not been there before.

  Then his hand reached out and he pulled at the soft silk at the base of her neck and, with a rough gesture which took her by surprise, tore it open to her breasts and she gave a scream of horror.

  Her hands went up as if to protect herself as she realised instinctively that what he was about to do was even more horrible than the way he had struck her.

  Just as he started to bend forwards towards her, the door opened and one of the senior equerries came into the room.

  The King, who was still holding on to the torn silk at her neck, looked up.

  “What do you want?” he asked angrily.

  “Something very important has occurred, Your Majesty, which requires your presence immediately in the Throne Room.”

  The King hesitated.

  “It cannot wait?”

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  Reluctantly the King’s fingers let go of the torn silk of Giona’s gown.

  Then, walking almost like a man in his sleep, he turned towards the door with the equerry close beside him.

  As they left the room, Giona felt everything go dark and thought that she was about to faint.

  Then, because she was terrified that the King might return, she forced herself to rise from the sofa on shaking legs and, holding onto the furniture, she gradually reached the door.

  Before she opened it she drew a deep breath, still feeling as if she might subside into the darkness that seemed about to engulf her.

  Then knowing that somehow she must escape, she pulled at the door and thought for one terrified moment that she had been locked in, but at last it opened.

  Holding onto the torn silk of her gown, she bent her head and hurried along the passage hoping that she could find her way back to her room without going through the main hallway.

  She found a secondary staircase, which took her up to the first floor.

  Then at last, feeling so limp and bewildered that she kept bumping into pieces of furniture, she found a corridor that she recognised and knew that at the end of it was her own bedroom.

  She opened the door, heard Mithra give a little cry of horror at the sight of her and then collapsed in her arms.

  She must have been unconscious, because when she could think again Mithra had somehow lifted her onto the bed and was holding a glass of water to her lips.

  “Drink a little, Your Royal Highness,” she begged. “Please, drink a little.”

  Giona did as she was told and closed her eyes to drift away into a grey world where vaguely, far away, she could hear Mithra asking somebody to bring her some brandy.

  Then she felt that her shoes were being removed from her feet and her gown loosened before what must have been quite a long time later Mithra was holding a glass to her lips again, but this time it contained brandy.

  Giona wanted to refuse, but Mithra insisted and, after she had drunk a few sips, she felt the fiery liquid running down into her body and the darkness vanished.

  She would have sat up in bed, but Mithra said,

  “No, rest, Your Royal Highness. You have had a shock.”

  Giona, however, remained sitting up.

  “I-I have to – go away,” she cried. “I cannot stay – here!”

  “He will not let you go, Your Royal Highness.”

  “H-how can I – stay?” Giona asked frantically. “He – struck – me!”

  She remembered as she spoke that he had not only shaken her but had threatened to whip her.

  Worse, she could see his face as in a nightmare, his eyes narrowing, his lips parting as he reached out to tear at her gown.

  She gave a cry like that of a child frightened beyond endurance and held onto Mithra.

  “Help me to – get away – help me – Mithra!”

  “It is impossible, Your Royal Highness, you must understand. You are to be married tomorrow. If you escape from The Palace, they will never let you leave the country.”

  “I-I cannot stay here – with him – he is cruel – bestial – horrible!”

  “I know, Your Royal Highness. I know!”

  Giona was still.

  “You know? What do you know?”

  “What he is like, Your Royal Highness.”

  “You mean – he assaults people – beats them?”

  “Not people, Your Royal Highness, but very young girls. They are brought to him here in The Palace, which is wicked and criminal, but what can we do?”

  Giona fell back against the pillows, her eyes wide. Now she understood what had been kept secret from her, what the two men speaking in German on the Battleship had meant when she overheard them say that she was too young to cope with him and the English did not like that sort of thing.

  She felt the horror of it sweep over her until she knew that rather than endure such degradation and humiliation, she would die.

  In fact that was what she would have to do.

  Then as she looked at Mithra’s anxious face, frightened by her silence, she remembered a quiet deep voice saying,

  “If you find it unbearable, I will try to save you.”

  Quite suddenly she knew what she could do.

  It wa
s unbearable and there was only one person in the whole country who could save her.

  She was silent for several minutes as she tried to think and felt Mithra pressing a compress of cold water to the burning mark on her cheek where the King had struck her.

  ‘If he does not save me,’ she told herself, ‘then I must die!’

  Now she had the terrifying knowledge that there was very little time before the marriage tomorrow and she pushed Mithra’s hand to one side and got out of bed.

  “You should not move, Your Royal Highness,” Mithra said in a worried voice. “Please, rest!”

  “There is something I have to do!” Giona replied.

  She walked unsteadily to the desk where she had written the letter to her mother.

  Drawing a piece of writing paper from the leather holder, she tore it in half, then in half again.

  Then in very small writing she wrote the same words in English that ‘The Invisible One’ had used to her,

  “Help me – for God’s sake – help me!”

  Chapter Six

  ‘I have failed,’ Giona said to herself, ‘and there is nothing more I can do.’

  She felt Mithra arranging her hair, then, having placed a beautiful lace veil that her mother had given her over her head, she put on top of it a tiara of stars that Giona learnt had been amongst the Slavonian Crown Jewels for many centuries.

  She had been told that she would wear this to the Cathedral, where it would be removed when the King placed a crown on her head and afterwards she would wear it for the return journey.

  She hardly listened to what was being said in a monotonous tone by one of her Ladies-in-Waiting because she was quite certain that she would never reach the Cathedral and certainly not go through the Ceremony of marriage with the King.

  She could not bear to think of him without shuddering.

  Her cheek was still sore from where he had struck her, while both her shoulders ached from the violence with which he had dug his nails into her soft skin as he shook her.

  When she wrote her cry for help to ‘The Invisible One’, she had felt as if she vibrated towards him as she had when they had sat opposite each other in the darkness of the railway carriage.

  Then rising to her feet, she said to Mithra, who was watching her anxiously,

  “Can I trust you?”

  The woman’s eyes widened and then she replied,

  “I love Your Royal Highness and I would do anything to help you.”

  “What I want you to do,” Giona said, “is to find Captain Darius. Make quite certain that he is alone and give him this piece of paper. Ask him to take it immediately to ‘The Invisible One’.”

  She saw Mithra stiffen as she spoke and her eyes looked up at her wildly.

  Then after a second’s astonishment she took the piece of paper from Giona’s hands and said,

  “I will not fail Your Royal Highness. Please rest while I’m gone.”

  “I will try to,” Giona said and went back to the bed.

  She lay with her eyes closed praying that by some miracle ‘The Invisible One’ would save her from being married to a man whose behaviour was so terrifying that she could not bear to think about it.

  She must have dozed a little, for it was quite a long time before Mithra returned.

  Then she said in a low voice, as if she was frightened,

  “I found Captain Darius, Your Royal Highness, and he understood.”

  Giona then allowed Mithra to undress her and she got into bed.

  A little later she told Mithra to inform one of her Ladies-in-Waiting that she would not be coming down to dinner.

  The Baroness came hurrying to her bedroom.

  “Your maid tells me that Your Royal Highness is not well,” she said. “But it is impossible for you not to dine with His Majesty this evening. Several of his relations will be present as well as Sir Edward and Lady Bowden.”

  Giona did not answer and after a moment she went on,

  “I feel sure that His Majesty will wish to talk to you to give you last minute instructions about the Ceremony tomorrow and he will be extremely perturbed if you are not present.”

  “His Majesty will understand that I am indisposed,” Giona said in a hard voice and after that refused to discuss it any further.

  The Baroness was obviously upset and bewildered that Giona had changed from being so charming and amenable without there being any apparent reason for it.

  “I will see no one else, Mithra!” Giona told her.

  When the maid brought her some supper, she found it difficult to eat anything.

  When she was alone again, she lay awake, praying that Captain Darius would somehow get in touch with ‘The Invisible One’ and that he would keep his promise.

  Yet she knew how heavily The Palace was guarded and she could think of no way by which he could enter it without being apprehended by the sentries who were posted at every entrance or could evade the soldiers who were permanently patrolling the grounds.

  ‘I am determined to get away whatever happens,’ Giona told herself and wondered if it would be possible for her to creep out of The Palace and meet ‘The Invisible One’ outside.

  *

  She had hoped that Captain Darius would send her a message of some sort by Mithra.

  But her maid had said ‘goodnight’ without giving her one and the moment she was alone all the seemingly insurmountable difficulties of her situation swept over her.

  And yet at the end of a very long dark tunnel she persuaded herself that she could still see a glimmer of light and hope.

  Now, however, she knew that she had failed and it was too late.

  Already her two Ladies-in-Waiting, fussing like a couple of old hens, had gone ahead of her to the Cathedral and she knew that in a few minutes she would have to go downstairs to where Sir Edward would be waiting to escort her there.

  Outside the front door there would be a closed carriage in which she was to drive with him to the Cathedral with a troop of Cavalry leading the way and another troop behind.

  The King would have already left and she was trapped as surely as any wild animal, so that there was no escape.

  Once again she told herself that the only thing she could do once she was married would be somehow to die before the King touched her.

  It was impossible to think of him without seeing the expression on his face when he had torn her gown and now she knew that, even though she would be his wife, she would have to endure the same fate as the young girls who were brought to The Palace for his amusement.

  Perhaps her ordeal would be even worse because she knew from what he had said when he raged at her that he loathed the British.

  He would want to hurt her not only because she defied him but because she stood for everything that he hated and resented about her country.

  “I must die,” Giona said, and without meaning to, said the words aloud.

  “What did Your Royal Highness say?” Mithra asked as she finished setting the tiara in place.

  There was another veil to put over Giona’s face, which could be removed after the Ceremony without upsetting the arrangement of the veil that covered her head.

  Mithra picked it up and as she did so said again,

  “I didn’t hear what Your Royal Highness said.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  Giona felt sure that this was to tell her that Sir Edward was waiting and she closed her eyes with the agony of it, wondering what would happen if she refused to leave for the Cathedral but feeling that, if she did so, she would be taken there forcibly.

  Then, as she heard Mithra give a little murmur of surprise, she turned her head and saw that the door of her room had opened.

  It was not a footman who stood there, but Captain Darius.

  He put out his hand towards her and said in a low voice,

  “We have five seconds – come!”

  Quite suddenly Giona felt the dark depression that had enveloped her like a cloud lift a
nd she sprang to her feet.

  Without speaking Mithra picked up her train and threw it over her arm.

  Then, as Giona ran towards Captain Darius to take his hand, he said to Mithra,

  “Delay letting them know that Her Royal Highness has gone for as long as you possibly can. Then collect anything you think she will need and follow us.”

  Giona had the impression that Mithra’s eyes lit up, then Captain Darius was drawing her down the passage and they were moving so quickly that she was afraid of stumbling.

  Still holding her hand, he led her to the far end of the corridor opposite to that which led to the main hall and hurried her down a side staircase.

  At the bottom of it there was a small door that led out into an ancient courtyard where from the scaffolding erected there it looked as if it was in the process of being repaired.

  There was a closed carriage drawn by four horses and the moment Captain Darius lifted Giona into it, the horses drove off.

  As Giona sat down on the padded seat, she saw that there were blinds drawn over the windows so that no one could look in and they were in total darkness.

  She knew that they passed through the gate leading out of The Palace gardens because there was the sound of the sentries coming to attention.

  With a hint of amusement in his voice Captain Darius spoke for the first time.

  “They believe someone has died in The Palace,” he said, “and in case the death would spoil the festive spirit of the Wedding guests, we are removing the corpse to a more appropriate place.”

  Giona could not help laughing at this ingenious piece of deception and in the darkness of the carriage she felt as if she had suddenly stepped into the sunlight.

  As the horses galloped on, now working up a terrific speed, she asked,

  “How did you do it? I was in despair before you came and believed that I should have to marry the King.”

  “It was not easy to arrange everything so quickly,” Captain Darius replied. “We are not out of the woods yet, Princess, and I am afraid that there is a hard ride ahead of you.”

  “A ride?” Giona enquired.

  Captain Darius pulled up the blinds that had covered the windows and now she could see that they were already well away from the City and out in the open country and ahead of them were the high towering mountains of Slavonia.