Wanted a Royal Wife

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Wanted a Royal Wife Page 7

by Barbara Cartland


  She stepped down onto the platform with a rustle of silk lace-edged petticoats under her summer gown.

  There was an aide-de-camp to meet them with an open carriage drawn by two well-bred horses.

  The courier followed in another carriage with the luggage and Nanny.

  “His Royal Highness asked me to welcome you, my Lady,” the aide-de-camp greeted her, “and to give you his apologies for not coming to meet you in person. But, as I expect you know, he has not been very well.”

  “The Duke told me and I am very sorry to hear it,” responded Latasha.

  “His Royal Highness is looking forward to meeting you and making your acquaintance, my Lady, and so, of course, is Princess Amalie.”

  “And I am looking forward to seeing your beautiful country and I can see at a brief glance it is certainly very lovely.”

  Latasha was not exaggerating.

  Everywhere there were flowers, blossom and trees with fields full of wild flowers growing in the grass.

  The houses they passed were most attractive and there were several small rivers on which there were boats and barges.

  Latasha looked at the people and she was thinking she would learn by the way they were dressed whether they were prosperous or poverty-stricken.

  As they drove by, the children seemed plump and well fed and the men and women moving about the streets seemed smiling and happy.

  “I am longing to learn about your country,” she told the aide-de-camp. “It seems not only to be beautiful but prosperous as well.”

  “We are fortunate, my Lady, to have rich deposits of minerals in all the mountains and His Royal Highness has been very astute in extracting them more quickly than has ever been achieved in the past.”

  “How did he manage it?” enquired Latasha.

  “With modern efficient new machinery,” came the reply. “And because His Royal Highness invites experts from all over Europe to visit and advise us.”

  “It’s a pity that everyone does not do the same. I believe some of the Balkan countries are very poor.”

  “That is because they are badly ruled,” the aide-decamp said, “and we are very lucky in having Prince Kraus as our Ruler. We are only perturbed as he is not as strong and healthy as he should be.”

  Latasha was longing to ask questions about Prince Stefan, but she felt it best to keep silent for the moment.

  However, after they had travelled several miles she saw three men in the distance.

  They were riding very fast across what seemed to be more Steppes.

  The aide-de-camp followed her line of sight.

  “That, my Lady, is Prince Stefan accompanied by two of his friends. They are trying out horses they will ride in what you in England would call a steeplechase.”

  Latasha smiled and commented,

  “You speak very good English.”

  “I was fortunate enough to go to a Public School in England. It has become very fashionable in Oldessa for the aristocracy to send their sons to England after His Royal Highness attended Oxford University.”

  “I wonder, as you speak so well, why you have not been teaching Princess Amalie. I expect you know that His Royal Highness has asked the Duke of Norlington to find an English Governess for her. But it is rather difficult at the moment, I gather, to find the right sort of Governess.”

  “I can appreciate that,” replied the aide-de-camp.

  “So I am prepared,” Latasha informed him, “to give her some lessons in conversation while I am staying with you.”

  “We think it is an excellent idea, my Lady, and you will find Her Royal Highness to be a very eager pupil. She has been putting off learning languages, because the only available teachers are dull and all getting on for sixty or more.”

  Latasha laughed.

  “That does not sound very encouraging at all for the Princess.”

  They were now entering a large City and Latasha guessed this was where the Royal Palace would be.

  The roads were all bordered with trees and the pink and white blossom falling from them made pretty patterns on the ground.

  She had a quick glimpse of quite expensive looking shops and restaurants with many tables outside covered by sunshades.

  After they had crossed a silver river, Latasha caught her first sight of the Royal Palace.

  It was high above the City surrounded by trees and even in the distance she could see a profusion of flowers.

  Built of white stone it looked delightfully romantic and almost as if it had stepped out of a fairytale book.

  “What a lovely Palace!” she exclaimed.

  “I thought that your Ladyship would admire it,” the aide-de-camp smiled. “We Oldessans are so very proud of our Royal Palace and our Ruler and we hope never to lose either of them.”

  Latasha knew exactly what he was intimating.

  She felt for a moment as if there was a dark shadow falling in front of her eyes.

  Then she asked herself why anyone should want to disturb such a beautiful and successful country.

  It was filled with what she could easily sense must be happy and peaceful citizens.

  Even as she asked herself these questions, she had a glimpse in the far distance of the high mountains.

  Then she knew the answer – it was greed.

  Greed that was making the Russians scheme to take over so many of the Balkan countries.

  They drove up a drive with flowers on either side and there were two enormous fountains playing in front of marble steps leading up to the front door.

  As the carriage rumbled to a stop, liveried footmen ran a red carpet down the steps.

  As Latasha descended from the carriage and began to walk slowly up the steps, she could see that there were several men waiting for her when she reached the top.

  It turned out that they were the Lord Chamberlain and two more aides-de-camp.

  There was no sign of Prince Kraus.

  They all bowed to Latasha and welcomed her in the flowery language of Oldessa.

  Suddenly a young girl ran breathlessly through the doorway.

  “Forgive me, do forgive me,” she cried, speaking in her own language. “I did not realise it was so late and it is rude of me not to have been on top of the steps to greet you.”

  She held out her hand to Latasha who curtsied.

  “It is so kind of you to come and I have been so looking forward to meeting you.”

  “I am delighted to be here,” said Latasha.

  She had learnt on the train from the courier that the language she had learned to speak in Budapest was very much the same as that spoken in Oldessa.

  She had visited Budapest a long time ago with her father and mother and had never forgotten how interesting it had been.

  Nor had she forgotten the language she had listened to when they took her to the theatre.

  However, she thought it would be a mistake if she did not speak to Princess Amalie in English and as she did so, she became aware that the young girl could understand most of what she was saying.

  They walked into the Palace and it was as beautiful as Latasha thought it would be.

  It had been furnished with exquisite taste and she recognised that a great deal of it had come from France.

  There were statues that could only have come from Greece, but what entranced her more than anything else was that there were flowers everywhere.

  She reflected how thrilled her mother would have been if she had seen them.

  They had arrived late in the afternoon and were not expected to ask for English tea at such an hour.

  Instead Latasha and Nanny were both given a glass of delicious local wine and there were pâté sandwiches and other small delicacies to eat in what was obviously one of the main reception rooms.

  Princess Amalie chatted away asking them about their journey.

  “I am longing to go on the Orient Express too,” she enthused. “My brother Kraus has promised to take me.”

  She put her head on on
e side as she added,

  “Perhaps after you have stayed with us, you will ask me to come and stay with you in England. That is just what I would really love to do.”

  Latasha smiled.

  “Your English will have to be very good, because English people are not intelligent like you and usually can speak only one language. If people don’t understand what they are saying, they usually just shout louder!”

  The aide-de-camp laughed out loud at this remark, but it took Princess Amalie a few minutes to see the joke.

  As time was getting on, the Lord Chamberlain came to ask if they would like to see their bedrooms.

  He escorted them up the stairs and then he handed them over to an impressive-looking elderly housekeeper.

  Latasha’s room was delightfully lovely.

  But she realised it was not as large and as grand as the one she would have been given if they had known her true identity.

  Nanny was next door.

  Their luggage had already been taken upstairs and was being unpacked by the housemaids.

  “We will try to give your Ladyship everything you require,” said the housekeeper, “and you have only to ask me or one of the maids.”

  Latasha thanked her and then she went next door to find Nanny.

  “I’m being treated just like a Queen,” cooed Nanny, “that I am.”

  “I think it is very kind of them to put you next to me, Nanny. Otherwise I am sure you would have found it very difficult to make them understand what you want.”

  “I’m no use and that’s a fact when it comes to them German sounding languages. But I expects I’ll get what I wants.”

  “I am sure you will,” smiled Latasha.

  When she went back to her own room, she found that the maids were bringing in a bath for her.

  They placed it on the rug in front of the fireplace, while the housekeeper was watching them do it and giving instructions.

  “I am afraid my companion, who has looked after me for many years, is not able to speak your language.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” replied the housekeeper. “His Royal Highness’s valet speaks English, Russian and several other languages as well.”

  “That must be amazingly useful.”

  “He tries to teach us, but I’m too old to change my ways. As His Royal Highness says, it’s so important for Princess Amalie to learn English.”

  “I am sure she will soon learn, because she seems a very intelligent girl.”

  “She’s that for sure,” agreed the housekeeper. “But that’s not to say she doesn’t like having her own way!”

  “I think we are all a bit like that,” smiled Latasha.

  She had finished her bath and was wondering when she would meet Prince Kraus when an aide-de-camp came to escort her down the stairs to a reception room.

  Latasha longed to ask him if there were any other guests, but she felt it might seem too inquisitive.

  He asked her about her journey from England as they walked down the stairs.

  When he opened the door into the reception room, she had no idea whom she was about to meet.

  The Lord Chamberlain came over to greet her.

  “I hope, Lady Gloria,” he began, “you are feeling rested after your long journey and you have been provided with everything you require.”

  He spoke in good but rather pedantic English and Latasha thanked him.

  He then led her towards the mantelpiece.

  In front of it was standing a tall, very good-looking young man.

  Latasha was sure as soon as she looked at him that he must be Prince Stefan.

  She was right.

  As the Lord Chamberlain introduced her to him, she curtsied and he greeted her,

  “Welcome to Oldessa. We are always delighted to have English visitors, especially those who were so kind to my brother when he was living in England.”

  “I have heard so much about His Royal Highness from the Duke of Norlington,” replied Latasha. “I believe they were very good friends.”

  “They were indeed,” said Prince Stefan. “But I, for some reason I have never really understood, was sent to Cambridge University instead of Oxford.”

  “So Your Royal Highness knows England well.”

  “Not as well as I would like to, but I must be honest and say I find Paris more agreeable.”

  There was a glint in his eye as he spoke.

  It told Latasha that what he had learnt in Paris was not just the language as part of his education.

  This thought was confirmed when a few moments later the door opened.

  A most attractive and elegant woman, exceedingly smartly dressed, now entered.

  She was introduced as Madame le Telbé and there was no doubt that Prince Stefan found her very alluring.

  He talked to her all through dinner, whilst Latasha, who was on his other side, was forced to converse almost entirely with the Lord Chamberlain.

  She found him an interesting and intelligent man and she guessed without his saying anything to her that he was irritated by Prince Stefan’s behaviour.

  At the same time she could recognise why he found Madame le Telbé so attractive.

  Like all sophisticated French women, she flirted with every man to whom she was talking with her eyes, her hands and her lips.

  By the end of the excellent meal Latasha could well understand the Prince’s infatuation.

  She learnt from the Lord Chamberlain that Madame le Telbé was the wife of a French diplomat who had been recalled to Paris for an urgent meeting.

  Rather than stay alone in the Embassy, Madame had moved into the Palace.

  Princess Amalie had also come down to dinner and she was chatting away happily to two of the younger aides-de-camp.

  Dinner had not yet finished when she came running to Latasha’s side to say goodnight.

  “I have to go to bed now,” she sighed. “It’s a lot of nonsense and I should be allowed to stay up a bit later, but Kraus insists that I should retire before dessert is served.”

  “What are you planning to do tomorrow morning?” Latasha asked her.

  “What do you want to do?” the Princess enquired.

  “I don’t know if I dare suggest what I would really like,” replied Latasha with a smile.

  “I always go riding before breakfast,” the Princess informed her.

  “Could you arrange for me to come with you?”

  “Yes, of course I will, and I will show you all the best places to ride and also, if you are a good rider, there are some exciting jumps.”

  “I would love it. What time do we go?”

  “Will eight o’clock be too early?”

  “I will be ready if you will come and fetch me from my room. Remember I don’t yet know my way round the Palace.”

  “Of course, I will fetch you,” said Princess Amalie.

  “It can be your very first lesson. We will talk about horses and riding in English.”

  The Princess giggled.

  “You will talk and I will listen!”

  Then before Latasha could say anything more, she ran away to kiss her brother Stefan goodnight.

  “The Princess is a very attractive girl,” Latasha said to the Lord Chamberlain.

  “I am so glad you think as we do,” he answered her. “She is adorable, but she has had a very dull time with her elderly Governesses.”

  “Surely there must be girls of her own age whom she could be with?”

  “It’s not very easy,” replied the Lord Chamberlain. “The few we would like to ask are not of the right age and the others are not exactly what we might call ‘in the Royal circle’.”

  Latasha grinned.

  “I do know what you mean.”

  Then, as she could restrain her curiosity no longer, she asked the Lord Chamberlain,

  “When am I to be granted the pleasure of meeting His Royal Highness, Prince Kraus?”

  “I thought you might think it strange that he did not come down to dinne
r. Ever since he was wounded by those Russians, he has suffered frequent headaches and migraine. The doctors seem helpless to do anything about it.”

  The Lord Chamberlain glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece.

  “I rather think, however, you could meet His Royal Highness for a few minutes before he retires to bed. He is dining in his own rooms because he thought, as he can eat only very little, he would only spoil the party in the dining room.”

  “I would be so delighted to meet him and I have a great number of messages for him from his old friend the Duke of Norlington.”

  “Which I do know His Royal Highness is waiting to hear,” the Lord Chamberlain exclaimed.

  He beckoned to an aide-de-camp and spoke to him quietly and the man left the room.

  Dessert and coffee had been served to everyone and the gentlemen were now drinking liqueurs.

  Latasha had already learned from her brother that in Oldessa the ladies did not leave the gentlemen after dinner as they did in England.

  For another twenty minutes they all remained in the dining room and then someone made a move.

  Latasha thought it was Madame le Telbé and they all rose and walked towards the door.

  As Latasha did so the Lord Chamberlain whispered,

  “If your Ladyship will please come with me, I will take you to meet His Royal Highness Prince Kraus, who I understand is feeling a little better.”

  By this time Latasha was feeling rather curious as what was happening was not what she had expected.

  Prince Stefan had paid very little attention to her all evening and she felt that he was not interested that she was English even though in a very short period of time he might be presented with an English wife.

  The Lord Chamberlain led Latasha along a broad passage and it was some distance from the drawing room.

  They arrived at a large oak door with two sentries on guard outside and an aide-de-camp appeared and came hurrying up to the Lord Chamberlain.

  “His Royal Highness is expecting you,” he said.

  The Lord Chamberlain nodded,

  “Announce her Ladyship, but I think it is a mistake for there to be too many people in the room at one time.”

  The aide-de-camp nodded and then opened the door in front of them, proclaiming,

  “Lady Gloria Ford, Your Royal Highness.”

 

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