Rescued by Love

by Barbara Cartland

  She waited and, as her brother did not answer, she went on,

  “But I don’t think that ‘Princess Weena’ will invite much interest.”

  “You are quite right in thinking that Weena is not particularly impressive,” he replied. “But as Mama always called you that I have really forgotten the numerous names you were baptised with.”

  “I suppose,” Weena said when he paused, “I could call myself by one of the other names that I was christened with. Equally I am quite certain I will never remember to answer to it.”

  She was thinking of how her name had never been a real one but a word of love.

  She had been born prematurely and her mother had often told her how she looked so small and so sweet that she had almost cried with delight when they put her into her arms.

  “You were no bigger than the doll I had loved when I was a child,” her mother had told her. “I exclaimed how weeny you were. ‘My weeny baby,’ I said over and over again until everyone laughed and declared when they gave you to me, ‘here is your weeny baby and be very careful, as she is so small, that you don’t crush her’.”

  “So that is the reason I am called ‘Weena’,” she had answered. Her mother had then told her.

  “Even after we christened you, I kept calling you ‘Weena’ because you were so sweet and so small. It was Papa who said that we would call you ‘Weena’ because it is easier to remember than any of the names you had been christened with.”

  So ‘Weena’ had come into being.

  She thought now that it would be very difficult to remember that her other names were Sofiate and Nadjavat.

  “Of course I do realise that you will not want those names,” Ivor said before she could speak again. “So I have found a name for you that I know you will appreciate. You will be Princess Alweena Kerlensky which you must admit sounds very impressive.”

  Weena stared at him.

  Then suddenly she clapped her hands together.

  “I like it! I do like it!” she exclaimed. “I should hate to have to give up completely the name that our Mama always called me.”

  “Of course you would,” Ivor agreed, “that is why I have planned it all very carefully. As Princess Alweena, I promise you, you will be a huge success in London.”

  “I only hope you are right,” Weena replied a little doubtfully.

  At the same time, although she did not say so, she could not bear to think of marrying a man just because he was rich and important. Not, as she had always meant it to be, because she loved him.

  Her mother had told her so often how she and her father had fallen in love from the very first moment they had looked into each other’s eyes.

  And how happy she had been even though she had to live in a foreign country where she knew no one.

  “If I am to be truthful I wanted no one except your father,” she had said. “We always do everything together, absolutely everything, and we want our two lovely children to be as happy as we are.”

  Weena could understand when her mother died how her father seemed suddenly to age overnight.

  He was lost without her and, although Weena tried in every way to make him happy, it was difficult for him even to pretend that he was not desperately lonely without the wife he had loved so passionately for over thirty years.

  Now he was dead as well and Weena was left with only Ivor.

  If he married, she would be alone in a hostile world she knew nothing about.

  As if he was following his own thoughts, Ivor went on,

  “You may think that I am asking too much of life, but I took the precaution in case this happened. I have been bright enough to study the English newspapers wherever I went and whenever I could find them.”

  He chuckled as he continued,

  “I have made a list of people who had entertained a Russian grandee, who I gather was a great success with the elite of London who cluster round the Prince of Wales.”

  “Who was that?” Weena asked him.

  “I don’t suppose you would know who I mean,” Ivor replied, “even though I have talked about him to you on various occasions. His name is Prince Feodor Sazanov. He is related to the Czar and is of great consequence in St. Petersburg.”

  He paused before he added,

  “I gather from what I read that, when he went to England, he was accepted not only by the Prince of Wales but also by Queen Victoria, who gave a party for him at Windsor. All the time he was last in England he appeared in the Social columns of one hostess or another and I made a list of them.”

  His sister stared at him.

  “How will that help us?” she asked.

  Her brother smiled.

  “Because I once met Prince Feodor when I was in St. Petersburg and I thought him very charming. He was very kind to me although I was of no great standing.”

  “How does that help us?” Weena asked impatiently.

  “Because, my dear sister, he died around a month or so ago and was deeply mourned in many parts of Russia. I am sure that there are a number of people in London who will feel the same when hear about his death.”

  Weena was listening.

  At the same time she was wondering how all this could possibly concern them.

  “What I intend to do,” Ivor continued, “is to write to a number of the friends who entertained Prince Feodor when he was in England saying he had told me that if I ever visited London he would give me an introduction to them, but that he has unfortunately died.”

  “He is dead, so how can he possibly help us now?”

  “I will tell them that I am missing him dreadfully as I am sure that they must be too,” Ivor replied. “But I am certain that he would want me to tell his friends how fond he was of them and how he had told me of their kindness and gracious hospitality when he was visiting London.”

  Weena was listening intently, but she still found it hard to believe how this could really help them.

  As if he realised what she was thinking, her brother said,

  “Don’t be silly! If they were so devoted to Prince Feodor as they appear to have been, they would have to ask us at least once to dine with them or even just call on them at their London homes.”

  Weena gave a gasp.

  “So that is how you intend to get to know them!”

  “You must admit that it’s a good plan,” her brother replied. “One Russian is certainly as good as another and who knows they may take a fancy to me so that you and I are persona grata at their parties.”

  “Oh, Ivor, I do think you are clever,” Weena said. “I can only pray that all your planning will come off.”

  “Well, now I think you should get up,” Ivor said, “while I go and take some air. Then I will show you the extent of our hidden hoard of treasure in the next cabin.”

  He left her cabin as he spoke.

  As Weena heard him going along the passage, she thought that she must be dreaming.

  Exactly how could this all have happened to her so quickly?

  Ivor’s plans seemed to her to be so extraordinary and almost like a story in a book she had read.

  ‘Just how can we possibly pretend to be Prince and Princess?’ she asked herself. ‘What will happen if anyone exposes us?’

  She knew that Ivor was right in saying that there were thousands of Princes and Princesses in Russia and so no one would be surprised in the slightest at meeting them.

  In fact, they would be even more surprised if they did not possess a title to flaunt in front of London Society.

  ‘I hope and pray that we will not be exposed,’ she thought as she dressed. ‘At the same time I do see that, if we are to be a success in London, people will expect us to be titled and be of no interest whatsoever if we are not.’

  She was fastening her dress with more than a little difficulty when Ivor came back.

  He saw at once what she was doing and buttoned up the back of her dress with an expertise that told her that he had doubtless had plenty of practice with the bea
utiful women he had encountered since he grew up.

  “Now come on and see what I have brought with us,” he suggested. “I would like to point out that I have been taking items to the harbour at night as it would be a mistake for anyone locally to realise what I was doing.”

  “You are very ingenious to think of such a brilliant idea,” Weena replied. “However, I know it would be very strange to think of us as people of great importance rather than two unknown country bumpkins.”

  “That is something you will never be, because you are too beautiful,” her brother answered. “You have to admit that Mama was never anything but a graceful and very beautiful Lady whatever name she might have called herself.”

  “Of course you are right in that,” Weena agreed. “I will try to be like Mama whom everyone admired from the lowest of those working for us right up to the aristocrats we sometimes entertained.”

  “Which was not often, as Papa found them a bore. Although she seldom talked about it, Mama was a great success when they travelled to St. Petersburg just after they were married.”

  He paused before he carried on,

  “There was no doubt that the Czar and the Czarina found her charming. They were well aware that she came from a most distinguished English family.”

  “If they were alive now,” Weena asked, “I wonder if they would be ashamed of what we are doing or perhaps commend us for being intelligent enough to give it a try.”

  Ivor chuckled.

  “Equally we have to achieve what we desire and that is a charming rich husband for you and an even richer bride for me!”

  While Weena was thinking that her mother would have told them to marry for love, she wondered how her brother would be able to put up with a woman when her only attraction was her bank balance.

  Undoubtedly the woman would marry him because he was so handsome.

  But once they were married he might find another woman far more attractive.

  She did not, of course, put these ideas into words, because she felt that Ivor would not appreciate them at this stage of their escape.

  He took her by the hand and ushered her a short distance along the corridor to another cabin.

  Weena looked inside this cabin, which was a little larger than hers, with sheer astonishment.

  It seemed to be filled with trunks and cases, some of which she recognised as having been up in the attics at home for many years.

  Some she could see were new and Ivor must have purchased them for this very purpose.

  “Let me explain to you,” he began, “what I have in each one of these. Of course, the two trunks in which you packed everything you needed will save us from spending too much money on decorating you as a beautiful Russian Princess until we can afford all the fashionable clothes you will need when you are established as one of the beauties of London.”

  Weena gave a cry.

  “Oh, do be careful, Ivor. You are asking too much of me. How can I possibly compete with women who will undoubtedly be even more beautiful than our Mama? They will look on me as an interloper and a foreigner.”

  She paused and, as he did not speak, she went on,

  “You know just as well as I do that the English are always supposed to heartily dislike foreigners and consider themselves superior to any other race.”

  “They may do that en masse,” her brother replied, “but when it comes down to rank I can assure you that the English, as a whole, are very impressed by titles.”

  He smiled at her before he continued,

  “I expect it’s because they are very mean with their own. A Prince and Princess in England are rare and rather glamorous. While in Russia, as we all know, a Prince is of little standing unless he lives in the shadow of the Czar.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” she said in a small voice. “Now tell me what else you have taken from our home without my realising it.”

  There were quite a number of items that she had not expected and yet each of them was of considerable value.

  She applauded her brother that he had been clever enough to think that they should have suitable presents to give to those who entertained them.

  He had therefore packed in one case a great number of small but pretty objects which had decorated side tables in rooms that were not very often used, but which would be much appreciated by those who received them.

  Yet it would cost them nothing.

  “I think you have been very, very clever,” she said finally when he told her what was in all the trunks. “I am sure the pictures will, as you say, bring in a good sum of money.”

  “I hope so. But remember, Weena, when this is all spent, there will be nothing left. By that time we must both be married. So what it really amounts to is that there is no time to be lost.”

  He spoke so positively and with a note of authority in his voice that told his sister he was determined to win this particular battle.

  Once again she felt herself shrinking away from the prospect and she really wanted to ask him,

  ‘What about love? What about finding a man who I love for himself and not because he has a large fortune or perhaps a huge estate?’

  She realised that Ivor would find such a question extremely stupid.

  He would point out in no uncertain terms it was a question of marriage or starvation and that was something neither of them would enjoy.

  ‘It is going to be difficult, I know it’s going to be difficult,’ she mused.

  But she told herself severely that it was something that she must not say aloud.

  “So now you see,” Ivor was saying, “I have been very astute and we must not allow the English to know for a moment that this is all we own and when it is gone there will be nothing to replace it.”

  Weena slipped her arm through his.

  “I realise that, dearest. You have been very shrewd and I admire you very much. I can only pray that neither of us will be disappointed.”

  Even as she was speaking to him she felt a sudden shrinking within her heart.

  Once again she was feeling afraid that she would never find love, the real love that had made her father and mother so blissfully happy.

  *

  The ship was now moving through the Black Sea.

  When they went up on deck, Weena knew that once they were into the Dardanelles and down into the Sea of Marmara, they would have left Russia for ever.

  They were now setting out, as she knew when she gazed at the waves, on a great adventure.

  At the same time, although she did not dare say so to Ivor, she was afraid that it would all end up a failure.

  If it was, what would happen then?

  Where could they go?

  Who would help them?

  The questions were unanswerable.

  She knew, as she looked at the sea, that they were leaving behind everything that had been hers since she had been born.

  They were facing the unknown.

  What would the future hold for her?

  Would she find happiness?

  Would she perhaps know the emptiness and misery of never finding love?

  CHAPTER THREE

  The sea was fairly calm, but, as Weena had nothing else to do, she went to her cabin after luncheon and lay down.

  She had nearly drifted off into a deep sleep, but still worrying about the future, when her brother came into the cabin.

  “I thought that you were up on deck,” he said, “and have been looking for you.”

  “I became tired of staring at the sea, so I thought I would lie down and think about myself,” Weena replied.

  He laughed and sat down on the end of the bed.

  “I have been talking to the Captain, who is a very charming man and interested in us. He has given me some excellent advice.”

  Weena pushed herself up against the pillows.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “He told me that if we arrive in Athens and pick up an English ship, if we are not careful we will be charged much
too much and waste our precious money.”

  Weena gave a gasp.

  “We must not do that!”

  “I am well aware that everything we have with us has to last us a very long time,” Ivor said. “Therefore I listened attentively to the Captain when he told me that in the new ships coming from the different countries the First Class passengers are really ripped off in a most unpleasant way.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Weena enquired.

  “Well, they think if they are rich enough to travel First Class they are rich enough to pay for everything they do. If we arrive saying that we are a Prince and Princess we will, in English parlance, ‘be taken to the cleaners’.”

  Weena laughed.

  They had learnt a fair amount of English slang from a maid their mother had employed at one time to look after them and do the odd jobs in the house.

  She was a good Cockney and she taught Ivor and Weena who were by that time getting older, some choice Cockney slang that they enjoyed using between themselves and when they were talking to their mother.

  Their father disliked them speaking English and so always insisted that they speak the best and most correct Russian to him.

  In consequence, of course, they were fascinated by the English Cockney and used it to tease their mother and make her laugh.

  “I don’t quite understand,” Weena said, “why they should want to do that. At the same time, as you say, we have all we possess with us and we must be very careful not to waste any money unnecessarily.”

  “That is just what I was thinking,” Ivor said, “and the first thing we have to do is to change our names. We must not be Russian, as the Captain has warned us against that. They think that the Russians are pretty soft when it comes to taking money off them.”

  “If then we are to be English,” Weena observed, “we must choose a name that does not sound too grand.”

  “That is exactly what I was thinking,” Ivor agreed. “You can therefore have your choice.”

  “Then let’s think of what names there are,” Weena answered. “Jones? I remember that was the name of the girl who stayed with us for almost two years.”