A Revolution Of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  As he counted it out, he disliked having to part with so much.

  He knew, however, that, when the news of the revolution reached other countries, the Korazian currency would undoubtedly be useless.

  He was therefore taking no chance of the Captain changing his mind at the last moment and sailing without them.

  It was a mixture of many currencies in the envelope he gave the Captain.

  “I think when you count it, Captain,” he said, “you will find I have been strictly honest and if anything a little over-generous.”

  The Captain glanced at what the envelope held.

  Drogo wondered if he intended to count it out there and then.

  “I’m thinkin’, Mr. Forde,” he said, “I can trust you as a Scotsman and, of course, if ye deceive me, I can always feed ye to the fishes!”

  Drogo laughed.

  “I will do my best to avoid that.”

  “I thought ye would,” the Captain grinned.

  Then he walked on and opened a door at the end of the passage.

  He did so with something of a flourish and, as Drogo looked in at the cabin, he realised why it was so expensive.

  What the Captain was giving them in return for one hundred pounds was in fact his home.

  Instead of the bare boards and what he knew would be the discomfort of the average cargo ship, Captain McKay’s cabin was a piece of Scotland that he took with him on his travels.

  Drogo looked round and he could understand why the Captain had refused to allow people he despised as foreigners to occupy it.

  Certainly no one who, in his opinion, was living in sin.

  There was a box-bed that seemed larger and rather better made than those usually occupied by sea-going Captains.

  It had a patchwork quilt covering it, which Drogo thought had doubtless been made by loving Scottish hands.

  Curtains of McKay tartan covered the portholes and, although somewhat threadbare, was nevertheless still showing the brilliant green of its vegetable dye.

  The same tartan covered the floor and on either side of the bed there were rugs of wildcat. These had undoubtedly been shot in the Highlands and on every available piece of wall there were the antlers of stags.

  It was so unexpected and so different from what Drogo had anticipated that it would have been laughable if it was not rather pathetic.

  Exiled by his profession and all the demands of running a cargo ship, the captain’s heart was still in Scotland.

  He therefore took a bit of his homeland with him wherever he went.

  Because Drogo was rather moved by what he saw, there was a definite pause before he said,

  “I feel a little embarrassed, but at the same time very honoured, that my wife and I should use your cabin.”

  “Ye be careful of it,” Captain McKay said fiercely, “and any damage, however small, must be paid for.”

  “There will be no damage,” Drogo said quietly, “and thank you again for letting us have it.”

  “Well, now ye’re aboard,” Captain McKay said quickly as if he felt self-conscious at the way that Drogo was speaking. “I’ll put to sea.”

  “Where will you be stopping?” Drogo enquired.

  “We’re steamin’ at full speed for Alexandria,” the Captain said, “and I’m no stoppin’ for ye or any other man on the way. I’m already late for my assignment and time be money!”

  He walked out of the cabin as he spoke, shutting the door behind him and they heard his footsteps going up the companionway.

  A moment later he began to shout his orders.

  Thekla pulled the cover off her head and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “We have done it!” she cried. “We have got away! I was so afraid that something might stop us as the last moment!”

  “So was I,” Drogo answered. “But thanks to Maniu we have the Marriage Certificate.”

  As he spoke, they heard the engines starting up beneath them and he sat down in a chair.

  When he had done so, he looked at Thekla and realised again how lovely she was.

  Under the concealing bedcover she was wearing a very attractive dress and, because he had told her to put on other things so that they did not have to carry them, she was wearing a short jacket over it.

  It was made of satin, embroidered Eastern fashion, with an intricate design of pearls and other stones.

  It was, he thought, the sort of expensive piece of clothing that only a very rich girl could afford.

  Almost automatically he said,

  “That is something you must not wear aboard this ship.”

  “Why not,” she asked.

  “Because,” he replied, “it’s not a garment a poor soldier would be able to provide for his wife.”

  Thekla laughed and it was a very pretty sound.

  “I did not think of that. If it looks too expensive, I will turn it inside out.”

  She laughed again, but Drogo did not smile.

  “Now listen, Thekla,” he said. “This is very important – ”

  “Why are you looking so gloomy?” she interrupted. “We have escaped! The revolutionaries are left behind! If they are looking for me they will be disappointed.”

  She drew in her breath and gave a little cry of joy.

  “We are free, Drogo, we are free! And nobody can – shoot me or put me in – prison.”

  The way she spoke told Drogo that it had been a very real fear and he had not properly appreciated what she was suffering.

  “Yes, you are free of the revolutionaries,” he said quietly, “but not of me.”

  She looked at him in a puzzled fashion and he added,

  “I am sure you realise, as I did when it was too late, that we did not receive the blessing that I told Maniu to arrange, but we were actually married.”

  “I knew that,” Thekla replied, “and I was so glad I remembered to have Mama’s Wedding ring with me.”

  Drogo was silent for a moment and then he said,

  “There are two things we can do, you and I, when we reach Alexandria.”

  “What are – they?” Thekla asked a little nervously.

  “We can either forget that we have been married, tear up the Marriage Certificate and tell ourselves that it has never happened or – ”

  “But, if we did that and either of us married anyone else, it would be bigamy,” Thekla interrupted. “I am your wife – and you are my husband.”

  Drogo looked away from her.

  “You know as well as I do,” he said, “that it is absolutely and completely impossible for you, as a Royal Princess, to marry a commoner!”

  “But we are married.”

  “Because it was the only way I could save you from a dangerous situation.”

  “Are you trying – to say that you did not – want to be – married to me?” Thekla asked.

  “I am telling you,” Drogo said quietly, “that it is something we cannot accept as valid. The marriage was forced upon us and performed in peculiar circumstances and we must have it annulled.”

  There was silence and then Thekla said,

  “And – suppose I don’t – want it to be – annulled?”

  “You will have no choice in the matter,” Drogo said, “as your relations when we reach England will explain to you.”

  “They are not Royal – so why should they worry?” Thekla asked.

  “They will understand, as I do, that what we did was to save your life. Once you reach England you will again be Her Royal Highness, Princess Thekla of Kozan and will be acknowledged by The Queen even though your country may still be in the hands of the revolutionaries.”

  There was a poignant silence.

  Then Thekla said,

  “In the – meantime I am – here with you and I am your – wife.”

  “That is something I am going to talk to you about.”

  Thekla looked at him, but he would not meet her eyes.

  “If we are to acknowledge that the marriage took place,” he said sl
owly, “it will have to be annulled.”

  He paused before he continued,

  “Therefore Thekla, we must behave with the utmost propriety, so that we can both swear on everything we hold sacred that you are still pure and untouched when you apply for the annulment.”

  “But I don’t – want the marriage to be – annulled,” Thekla retorted almost petulantly.

  “It is something that will have to be done.”

  There was silence and then she said in a different voice,

  “I – thought when you – kissed me that you – loved me.

  Because he was afraid that once again he would lose his head in an effort to comfort her, Drogo said quickly,

  “I do love you! Of course I love you! But there is nothing, absolutely nothing I can do about it.”

  “You – love me? You really – love me?”

  “How can I do anything else?” Drogo asked. “But, my darling, be sensible! Even if I tried to forget that you are a Royal Princess, it is quite impossible for me to have a wife at all. ”

  “Why?”

  “Because owing to my mother’s illness, I am deeply in debt. I am only an ordinary soldier and for the next ten years at least every penny I earn will have to go to paying off my debts.”

  “I have – Mama’s jewellery,” Thekla said in a small voice.

  Drogo smiled.

  “That is all you have, and it will have to last you for a very long time. You would not wish to arrive penniless and have to be grateful to others for everything you require.”

  He stopped speaking to smile at her before he went on,

  “At least you will start on the right foot and then your marriage will doubtless be arranged with someone suitable.”

  “I don’t – want to be married to someone – suitable,” Thekla objected. “I am – married to – you.”

  The way she spoke made Drogo rise to his feet even though the ship was beginning to roll a little.

  He walked to the porthole and gazed out at the stars and at the moon shining silver on the sea.

  It flashed through his mind that this was his Wedding night and he had only to take Thekla in his arms and kiss her.

  Once again they would be swept together into the ecstasy that he had known was Divine.

  It was what all men seek and seldom find.

  Then he told himself severely that he had to behave like a gentleman.

  Thekla was little more than a child and she trusted him.

  He turned back from the porthole.

  “We are not going to argue about it,” he said. “That would make us both unhappy. We shall have to spend a considerable time together in this small room and we can talk of things that interest us, but that is all.”

  Thekla drew in her breath and clasped her hands together. But before she could speak he went on,

  “We will behave as if we are brother and sister! Although outside this cabin we are married, inside it you must help me to do what is right. That is absolutely essential for your future.”

  “What – do you – mean by ‘right’?”

  “To begin with,” Drogo replied, “I shall sleep on the floor.”

  “That – will be – uncomfortable.”

  “I have slept in far worse places and you can spare me a blanket and a pillow.”

  He smiled as he spoke, as if it was a joke.

  Thekla was looking at him, her eyes very wide.

  Because he wanted to put his arms round her, he said quickly,

  “You know, because I love you, I must not touch you and therefore you have to help me. I am a man and, if you make it very difficult for me, we may do something that will hurt you for the rest of your life and perhaps make you hate me. ”

  “I would never – hate you!”

  “You cannot be certain,” Drogo answered. “Therefore we must both try – and I mean we – to be civilised and sensible about this.”

  He paused before he continued,

  “When we reach Alexandria, I will make other arrangements. It is only now when we have to play a part to satisfy the Captain that I need you to help me and not to make the voyage so unbearable that I wish it had never happened.”

  “You mean you – will be sorry that you – ever met me?”

  “That is one of the questions you must not ask me,” Drogo said. “Remember that inside this room you are my sister and I am your brother and, although we can laugh and talk, we must not say anything intimate to each other.”

  “I may not – tell you that – I love you?”

  “No!”

  “You – will not kiss me – not even ‘goodnight’?”

  “No!”

  There was silence and then Thekla said,

  “I think really it would have been – better if I had – stayed with the – revolutionaries.”

  For a moment Drogo was angry.

  Then, as he realised that she was deliberately provoking him, he said,

  “If you say anything like that again, I shall tell the Captain that I am a fresh air fiend and that I wish to sleep every night on the deck.”

  Thekla gave a little cry.

  “No! You cannot leave me – alone! I would be – frightened.”

  “I am sure you would be quite safe,” Drogo said. “But you have to be good. Do you understand?”

  “I suppose so!”

  “That is what I want to hear. Now I am going to unpack what you want for tonight and leave the rest for tomorrow.”

  He stopped a moment and then went on,

  “While you get into bed, I will go above and look at the stars! When I come back, I want to find you asleep. Do you understand? Asleep!”

  “All I can say,” Thekla replied, “is that – you are – worse than my two fussy old Ladies-in-Waiting put together!”

  “I expect they were thinking of you and doing what was best for you, as I am.”

  He pulled open one of the bolsters where he knew that she had packed her nightgowns.

  He threw them on to the bed thinking as he did so how attractive they were and how lovely she would look in them.

  Then he told himself that those were not the thoughts of a brother.

  He pulled out the rest of the clothes that were in the bolster.

  “I should pile them onto the chair for the night,” he said. “We will tidy everything tomorrow. I will give you ten minutes.”

  He paused a moment and then went on,

  “I see that we are very lucky in that there is a wash-place attached to this cabin. That, I assure you, is unusual.”

  He opened a door that he had noticed beside one of the wardrobes.

  There was a very small wash-place with a basin fixed to the wall and what appeared to be a shower.

  It was a very amateur effort.

  There was a bucket of water, which stood on a shelf above a sluice and he thought that it was something he had not expected in a cargo ship.

  “Captain McKay certainly makes himself at home,” he said. “We are lucky. Very very lucky.”

  “I knew that when you helped me off – the rope,” Thekla said. “You do realise that, if I had not – escaped from the Palace, which you thought so reprehensible – I would now have been – captured by the – revolutionaries and perhaps killed.”

  “I had thought of that,” Drogo said.

  There was a little silence.

  Then Thekla said,

  “I did not – like to ask you – before, but when I asked – Maniu if he had any news of Papa – he said that you would tell me – what had happened.”

  Drogo was still and then he replied,

  “I did not want to upset you before we left.”

  “You mean Papa is dead?”

  “I am afraid so.”

  He thought that she might cry.

  Instead she sat very still and silent for what seemed a long time before she whispered,

  “I think that Papa would rather be – dead than – living in exile from his own – country.
”

  “I know that is what I would feel myself.”

  “He was also miserable with – my stepmother. I am sure now that he is – with Mama and they are – happy again.”

  “That is the right way to think about it,” Drogo said. “Together they will look after you, whatever you do and wherever you go.”

  “That is – what I shall – try to believe,” Thekla said, “and I have the – feeling Mama would understand how much – ”

  She stopped and there was a pause before she added,

  “ – I want – to be with – you.”

  Drogo knew that she was about to say, ‘how much I love you.’

  He smiled at her very tenderly before he said,

  “I am sure that both your father and mother are as proud of you as I am. Now go to bed.”

  He walked from the cabin as he spoke.

  As he closed the door behind him, he felt that he was shutting himself out of Paradise.

  Then he told himself that if Thekla could behave well, so could he.

  Only God knew how hard it was going to be and how difficult he would find it every second he was with her not to kiss her and tell her how much he loved her.

  ‘I love her! I love her!’ he said to the stars a few minutes later when he stood on deck.

  There was something mysterious and very beautiful about the moonlight turning the waves to silver.

  Far behind them he could see the lights of Ampula and the outline of mountains against the sky.

  From the sea Kozan looked like a country that might have been part of a dream.

  That, he told himself, was what it had to be to him.

  When they reached England and he did not see Thekla any more, she would be just a dream in his life.

  A dream when he had held perfection and beauty in his arms and deliberately sacrificed the wonder of it for his principles.

  ‘Am I a fool,’ he asked the moon, ‘not to take what the Gods have sent me?’

  Then, as he felt his heart beating in that strange tumultuous way, he knew that it was completely different from anything he had ever felt in the past.

  Thekla was as beautiful as the stars and to him just as far out of reach.

  ‘I must look at her, think of her and love her – ’ he thought, ‘but whatever happens, I must not touch her!’