69 Love Leaves at Midnight

by Barbara Cartland

  He spoke so bitterly that Xenia was moved.

  She took a step to his side and put her hand on his arm.

  “I am sorry,” she said. “Very sorry, but I cannot believe there is not a way out waiting for you – if only we could – find it.”

  She spoke with a compassion that came from her very heart. Then, as she looked up into the King’s eyes, it was impossible to look away.

  They stood staring at each other and then the clock on the mantelpiece chimed.

  Xenia looked away.

  “What time am I to be – ready for the – banquet?” she asked.

  “You have three-quarters of an hour.”

  She gave a little cry.

  “Then I shall have to hurry.”

  She turned towards the door.

  “Let them wait!” the King said. “I may sit at the head of the table, but Kalolyi will really be the host. It is he who has invited the guests.”

  Xenia had reached the door and she turned her head to smile at him.

  “I do not intend to be late,” she replied, “because I am hungry and I am quite certain that the food in the Palace will be delectable, as is everything else here.”

  She pulled open the door as she spoke and, as she went out of the room, she heard the King laugh, but this time it was a sound of genuine amusement.

  Chapter 4

  Xenia awoke with a feeling of urgency, then realised as she opened her eyes that she had several reasons for anxiety.

  First and foremost was the knowledge that she might actually have to marry the King before Johanna returned.

  The possibility made her feel very alarmed.

  Then she told herself sensibly that Johanna would see the announcement of the King’s forthcoming marriage in the English newspapers and come to Luthenia at once.

  Xenia was quite certain that every newspaper in Europe would carry the story that the King’s marriage would take place on the following Tuesday.

  Editorials would be speculating on the need for such haste and doubtless would attribute it to the truth – that it was a palliative for the people.

  At the same time the thought of becoming the King’s legal wife while he imagined that he was marrying her cousin seemed to her too fantastic to contemplate.

  But there was nothing she could do for the moment except to agree to the Prime Minister’s plans, so she set that problem on one side while she considered the difficulties confronting the King.

  She felt last night at her first State Banquet that it was so exciting and so magnificent that she must in her small way do something to prevent everything being spoilt by the dissatisfaction of the people in Luthenia.

  It had been an enchantment that she had never known to talk to the Statesmen and Noblemen who were entertained at the Palace and also to meet the King’s relations.

  The nicest of them, she decided, was his aunt, the Dowager Duchess Elizabeth of Mildenburg, who reminded her of her mother and who was in fact a distant relative of the King of Slovia.

  The Dowager Duchess was horrified that the marriage should take place while the Archduke and Archduchess were in Russia.

  “I am sure that your mother will be very upset, my dear,” she said to Xenia.

  “I am afraid so, ma’am,” Xenia replied. “But the Prime Minister is insistent that it is the only way to forestall the threat of revolution.”

  The Dowager Duchess gave her a glance that told her she was surprised that she dared to voice the truth.

  Then she said,

  “I am worried about István. You must help him, dear, as only a wife can help a man in difficult times like this.”

  “I will do my very best,” Xenia promised and the Dowager Duchess smiled at her with approval.

  The table decorated with gold ornaments, exotic flowers and lit by huge gold candelabra was more beautiful than she could possibly have imagined.

  She knew too that the gown she wore complemented the scene and she thought, although she was not sure, that the King’s eyes rested on her appreciatively.

  ‘I can understand,’ she told herself honestly when she went to bed, ‘that Johanna cannot bear to give all this up, not even for the man she loves.’

  At the same time, however alluring a throne might be, Xenia was quite sure that if she was in Johanna’s place she would, like her mother, sacrifice everything for real happiness, for the closeness of belonging to someone who loved her as she loved him.

  Because she wanted the Statesmen and the Nobility of Luthenia to help the King she did everything she could to make herself charming, forcing herself to overcome her natural shyness which otherwise would have left her tongue-tied.

  “I am looking forward to your wedding, ma’am,” a Nobleman said, who she had been told owned a great deal of land and was a power in his own part of the country.

  “I understand the necessity for it as I know you do, Your Grace,” Xenia answered in a low voice, “and I feel sure that the King can rely on your support in the future.”

  The gentleman to whom she was speaking looked at her in surprise and Xenia guessed that the King had never tried to bind the influential Luthenians to him, as he should have done.

  She therefore moved amongst the guests deliberately seeing to it that the gentlemen should realise that she was fully aware of the tense and dangerous situation.

  She ensured that, if they had not thought of their own position in a possible confrontation before, they should do so now.

  She had no idea that it was unprecedented behaviour on the part of a Royal personage and, although the King looked at her with surprise, he did not interfere.

  When finally the guests took their leave, a number of them said meaningfully to the King,

  “You know Your Majesty can always count on me and I am at your service.”

  As the King and Xenia followed by his Royal relations left the Grand Salon, where they had gathered after dinner, the King said,

  “What have you been saying?”

  Xenia glanced at him apprehensively, not certain that he would approve.

  “I thought it would be a – good idea if those you – entertained tonight were aware that you might need them – if things are as – serious as the Prime Minister says.”

  The King did not answer for a moment, but, as they reached the bottom of the stairs and Xenia was about to go to her bedroom, he said,

  “I am grateful. Equally I am astonished. I had no idea that you cared for politics.”

  “These sort of politics,” she answered, “the politics that are taking place here will affect not only you but all your subjects.”

  The King was listening as she went on,

  “I have a fancy that those who live outside Molnár, the great landlords and the aristocrats, have been kept in ignorance, perhaps deliberately, of what is taking place.”

  “That is very astute of you,” the King answered, “and what you are suggesting is that I should have solicited their support before now.”

  “It is never too late to begin,” Xenia said with a little smile.

  The Dowager Duchess joined them and there was no chance to say more.

  But the King took Xenia’s hand in his and kissed it.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  Then he stood and watched as she helped his aunt up the stairs.

  ‘I hope I did the right thing,’ Xenia thought.

  She remembered that several times during the evening she had seen the Prime Minister look at her and his expression was unmistakably one of disapproval.

  Somehow the King had to be rid of the man, but how?

  How was it possible when apparently he had such a hold over his Cabinet and the Members of Parliament?

  *

  Having drawn the curtains, Margit came to the side of the bed.

  “I have brought you the newspapers, Your Royal Highness. Perhaps you would like to glance at them while you have your breakfast? There are some very pretty sketches of your arrival.”
>
  Xenia sat up and opened the newspapers eagerly.

  There were three of them and she read about herself and her arrival in one after the other.

  She saw at once that the wording of the reports was almost identical in each and she was quite certain that they had all been inspired from the same source.

  As Margit brought in her breakfast and set it down on a table beside her, she asked,

  “Are these all the newspapers that are published in Molnár?”

  The elderly maid hesitated before she replied,

  ‘There’s another, Your Royal Highness.”

  “Then why did you not bring it?”

  “I – it’s not the type of newspaper that’d interest Your Royal Highness.”

  “Why not?”

  Again Margit hesitated before, as if she felt she must tell the truth, she replied,

  “The People’s Voice is an independent paper that’s in opposition to the Government.”

  “Then I would like to see it,” Xenia said.

  The maid looked alarmed.

  “I don’t think – ” she began.

  “I am sure there is one somewhere in the Palace,” Xenia interrupted. “Perhaps one of the footmen would lend you a copy.”

  She thought Margit was about to refuse, when, without saying anything, she went from the room.

  Xenia ate her breakfast and as she finished it the maid came back.

  She had hidden the newspaper under her apron and, when she reached Xenia’s bedside, she drew it out.

  “I’ll get into trouble, Your Royal Highness, if it’s known that I brought you this.”

  “I promise I will tell no one,” Xenia said with a smile.

  She opened the newspaper and realised at once why Margit was reluctant to give it to her.

  Here was a very different story from the one that she had read in the other newspapers.

  The editorial, instead of acclaiming her arrival and the news that the marriage was to take place the following morning, denounced it in no uncertain terms saying,

  “When the Romans had trouble with their conquered races, they arranged a circus to take the people’s minds off their injustices and privations. The wedding of our King to the Princess Johanna of Trussen is nothing but a Luthenian circus for which the people will have to pay whether it amuses them or not.”

  Xenia turned to the other pages in the paper and found many reports of oppression and injustice.

  Even allowing for the hostile and aggressive tone in which such stories were written, she was quite certain that there would be some truth behind each one.

  She read the newspaper from cover to cover and then handed it back to Margit and went to have her bath.

  All the time she was bathing she thought of what she had read.

  At the same time she felt helplessly that there was little or nothing she could do about it personally.

  When she was dressing, she said to Margit,

  “Luthenia seems to be a prosperous country. Is there much poverty in Molnár?”

  “There is nowadays, Your Royal Highness,” Margit answered, “because the people get no help when they’re in distress and taxes are very high. Even those who are rich can’t give as generously as they used to do.”

  “Why are the taxes so high?” Xenia asked.

  She had some idea from what she had read in the Opposition newspaper, but she wanted Margit’s view.

  The maid did not speak for a moment, so she pleaded,

  “Tell me the truth, Margit. As you know I am a stranger here, but I want to help the King and I want to restore his popularity. Only if I understand what has gone wrong can I do anything to try and put it right.”

  She saw the look of surprise in the maid’s eyes before she replied,

  “We all loved His Majesty when he was a little boy, just as we loved his lady mother for her kindness and understanding.”

  “I want you to love him now,” Xenia said. “The newspaper I have just read speaks of great poverty, but no one seems to care. What I am asking is, where is the money going?”

  Margit looked over her shoulder as if she was afraid that they would be overheard.

  “They say, Your Royal Highness,” she said cautiously, “that it’s spent on buildings – a new Town Hall, great mansions for the Prime Minister and other members of the Government, statues, Parks and fountains in the best part of the City! People think there’re too many when the schools are too few and the children who attend them are often hungry.”

  Xenia’s lips tightened.

  This was what she had read in the newspaper, but it somehow seemed worse to hear it spoken in words.

  “I agree with you, Margit,” she said. “It is wrong – quite wrong.”

  There was no time to say more because she had to hurry downstairs to drive to a reception being given at the House of Parliament.

  She had learnt from Count Gáspar that today there would only be a small squadron of Cavalry as an escort for the Royal Carriage.

  The King was waiting for her in the hall and she saw a faint smile on his lips as she came downstairs wearing a gown of jonquil yellow with a little hat trimmed with small ostrich feathers in the same colour.

  Margit had arranged her hair in a most elaborate fashion and she knew that not only the yellow of her gown enhanced the colour, but also by the necklace of topaz, which encircled her neck.

  As it was a hot sunny day, Margit had handed her a very small sunshade which matched her dress and, as she and the King walked side by side through the front door and down the steps, she opened it and held it over her head.

  There was a crowd outside the Palace and the women and children waved and cheered as they appeared.

  There were also a number of sinister-looking men staring at them in the same glum dissatisfied way that they had the day before.

  The Cavalry with their plumed helmets looked very dashing and Xenia was sure that the cheers were more for them than they were for her and the King.

  Today they were not alone in the carriage and Madame Gyula as her Lady-in-Waiting, and Count Gáspar as aide-de-camp to the King, sat facing them.

  The flower-blossoming trees, the sunshine on the mountains and the colourful skirts of the women in the streets made Xenia feel once again as if she was moving in a Fairy tale.

  “When all the formalities are over,” she said to the King, “I do hope that I shall have a chance to see the City and also drive out into the countryside.”

  “I doubt if there will be enough time before we are married,” the King replied.

  “There must be!” Xenia exclaimed without thinking.

  She was sure that Johanna would arrive before the wedding and then as far as she was concerned all this would be over and she would go back to England and obscurity.

  “If it means so much to you,” the King said thoughtfully, “we must certainly try to arrange it, although I warn you there is a very full programme ahead.”

  “Perhaps if we rose early and went to bed late?” Xenia suggested and he laughed.

  “You must talk to the Count,” he said. “He organises all our engagements for us and he must try to shuffle them around so that you can do what you want to do.”

  “I will certainly do my best, ma’am,” the Count promised.

  “I would not wish to refuse anything – important,” Xenia said quickly.

  “It depends what you call important,” the King remarked sarcastically.

  Xenia did not reply and after a moment he said,

  “Today we are to receive a wedding gift from Parliament and Kalolyi has already decided what we are to do with it.”

  “Can he do that?” Xenia asked.

  “Who is going to stop him?” the King enquired. “What is it this time, Horvith, have you heard?”

  “Nothing official, Sire,” the Count replied, “but it is sure to be something that the Prime Minister thinks will add to the prominence of the City.”

  “But only in one par
ticular part of it,” Xenia said.

  She was thinking of what Margit had told her and what she had read in the newspaper.

  Both the King and the Count looked at her in surprise.

  “What do you mean by that?” the King asked.

  Xenia was just about to reply when they entered Parliament Square and there was a burst of cheering.

  Because she thought it was expected of her she turned to wave her hand and smile at the people lining the streets.

  There were quite a number of them and she thought that the Prime Minister had doubtless arranged that as many people as possible should see them.

  ‘Our arrival at the House of Parliament is, of course, part of the circus,’ she told herself.

  The crowd was thicker as they progressed through the Square and, although some of the people did not seem very enthusiastic, there were enough cheers to make Xenia hope that they were genuine.

  The carriage drew up outside the front door of what was a very large and impressive building and there was a short paved walk before Xenia and the King could reach the steps that led to the front door.

  The crowds were held back by soldiers and there were also a number of Police dressed in a uniform that Xenia thought becoming if rather ornate.

  She deliberately walked slowly, feeling it was important for those present to have time to see their King.

  She realised with a little feeling of pleasure that he was responding to the cheers in a way he had not done the day before.

  They had almost reached the steps when Xenia saw a banner held by two women and she read,

  NOBODY CARES ABOUT US!

  The women looked poor, their clothes were shabby, the children with them were barefoot and one, Xenia noticed, was on crutches.

  Without saying anything to the King, she suddenly turned and walked across the grass towards the women with the banner.

  It only took her a few seconds to reach them and the crowd around was silent in sheer astonishment as she stopped and asked,

  “Tell me what your banner means? Why does nobody care about you?”

  As she spoke, she realised that the Count had joined her.