Wanted a Royal Wife

by Barbara Cartland

  Latasha walked past him and heard the door close behind her.

  She was now in an extremely attractive study, which would have delighted her father.

  There were pictures of horses on the walls and also a great number of cases containing leather-bound books.

  The armchairs and sofas were covered in pretty deep pink velvet whilst the curtains and the flowers were pink as well.

  They made the whole room seem to glow like a setting sun.

  Seated in an armchair before an exquisitely carved mantelpiece was a gentleman.

  When Latasha reached him, he rose to his feet with some difficulty.

  He was tall and broad-shouldered and she thought as she looked at him that he was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen.

  At the same time he looked decidedly ill.

  There were deep lines under his eyes and his face was pale and somewhat strained.

  “You must please forgive me, Lady Gloria,” he said as Latasha curtsied, “for not personally greeting you when you arrived. I have been confined to my room.”

  “I am sure that Your Royal Highness should not be standing now. Please sit down.”

  Prince Kraus smiled as if amused.

  But he did as she had told him and she sat in a chair next to him.

  “Did you have a good journey here, Lady Gloria?” he enquired.

  “It was delightful and I was naturally enchanted by the Orient Express.”

  “Everyone here has been talking so much about the Orient Express. I am finding it extremely annoying that I am not well enough to travel on it myself.”

  “It is luxury at its height and one feels it should be kept entirely for Royalty!”

  Prince Kraus laughed.

  “Few people would agree with you. Now tell me about England and how is my friend, Harry Norlington?”

  “He is well, and his horses, as you can imagine, are still superb and the very best.”

  “I hope you will say the same about mine.”

  “I have already arranged to ride tomorrow morning, Your Royal Highness, with Princess Amalie. I have told her that it will be the occasion for her first English lesson.”

  “You are certainly wasting no time, Lady Gloria.”

  He was looking at Latasha in an unusual way which made her hope that he was admiring her.

  She also hoped that she was not taking too much on herself too soon.

  As if he could read her thoughts, he ventured,

  “I know you can only spare me a short time here in Oldessa, so please make all the arrangements you wish and just tell the Lord Chamberlain and everyone else to carry them out.”

  “That is a big order, Your Royal Highness. I only hope that when I have finished with Princess Amelie that you will approve of my instruction.”

  “I am quite certain I will, Lady Gloria, now tell me more about Harry.”

  Latasha told him about all the improvements her brother had made on the family estate and about the horses he had bought recently and those he was teaching to jump.

  She was aware as she was speaking to him that he was listening to every word.

  All the time his eyes were on her.

  When she came to the end of her account, she said,

  “Now I have a great many questions I would like to ask Your Royal Highness about your own lovely country. I have never seen anything so beautiful as when we drove from the station to the Palace and the flowers thrilled me.”

  “As indeed they thrilled my mother and it was she who insisted that the Royal Palace should be surrounded by flowers – and that if we planted them, the people in the town must plant flowers too.”

  “Do they appreciate them?” enquired Latasha.

  “I think so. We are known here as the ‘Kingdom of Flowers’ amongst our friends and I can only hope and pray it will be left as it is.”

  Latasha knew that he was thinking of the Russians.

  Although she thought it was too soon, she could not help herself asking,

  “What is the present situation? Harry told me that you were frightened.”

  “Very frightened, to be honest,” he replied. “The only possible way we can survive will be for Harry to find what I have him asked for. That is a wife for my brother who is related to Her Majesty Queen Victoria.”

  He was being very frank and Latasha added,

  “Harry fully understands the problem and is doing his best and he asked me to tell you so.”

  “Then I am absolutely certain that Harry’s best is exactly what I really need.”

  As Prince Kraus was speaking, his eyes suddenly closed and his head fell back against the cushion behind him.

  “You are in pain!” cried Latasha without thinking.

  “It’s this ghastly migraine,” he murmured.

  Now there was a deep frown on his forehead and he squeezed his eyes as if the pain was almost unbearable.

  Latasha rose to her feet.

  Going behind Prince Kraus’s chair, she placed her hands very gently on his forehead.

  “Try to relax,” she urged. “I am going to massage your forehead gently and I hope it will take away the pain.”

  She spoke very quietly.

  At the same time she started to move her fingers as her mother had shown her over his forehead and down by his temples.

  She had seen her mother doing it so often to people who had come to her from the village.

  In fact they would come from all over the County to ask for herbs from her herb garden and to tell her of their aches and pains.

  Sometimes there was such a large crowd to see her mother that her father would expostulate,

  “Really, my darling, you wear yourself out on these tiresome people. Why do they not go to their doctor?”

  “No doctor can give them what I can give them,” the Duchess responded to him quietly. “Doctors’ medicine is artificial, whilst mine is completely natural, coming from nature itself.”

  Prince Kraus did not say anything and as Latasha continued to massage his head very very gently, she felt him begin to relax.

  He was no longer tense with pain.

  She remembered exactly the movements her mother had made on a sufferer’s head.

  As she used her fingers, she prayed as her mother had always done.

  “What I have to do, darling,” she said when Latasha was still very young, “is first to pray that the person I am treating will get well. That is half the battle against illness. Secondly my own inward vitality flows from my fingers to help those who need it.”

  It had been made very simple for her when she was little and she had always remembered what her mother had taught her.

  She felt Prince Kraus sink lower in his chair and in no way did he try to resist the life force she was passing into his body.

  She had been massaging his forehead for a quarter of-an-hour when she realised that he had fallen asleep.

  She took her hands away and stood looking down at him.

  He was sleeping peacefully and she was certain that she had taken the migraine away from him.

  She tiptoed silently to the door and the moment she reached it, it opened.

  She walked outside to find the same aide-de-camp who had introduced her to Prince Kraus.

  “His Royal Highness is now asleep,” she told him, “and is no longer in pain. Do not wake him and if he stays there all night it does not matter. It would be a mistake to take him upstairs and make him move too quickly.”

  The aide-de-camp nodded.

  “I understand, my Lady, and we are very grateful to you for helping His Royal Highness.”

  “Now I would very much like to meet your Head Gardener tomorrow morning immediately after I have been riding with Princess Amalie.”

  “The Head Gardener!” he cried in astonishment.

  “Yes, your Head Gardener,” Latasha repeated.

  She knew that he was full of curiosity, but she said nothing more as they walked back to the drawing room.
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  As they neared the drawing room, she could hear the sound of voices and laughter, but Latasha had no wish to join them.

  She wanted to think of how she could help Prince Kraus, knowing how much it would please her brother.

  Besides that, she felt extremely sorry for him.

  It was cruel, she thought, that such a handsome man should be crippled because he had fought so bravely for his country.

  ‘I am quite sure if I can remember everything that Mama would have done, I can make him well,’ she told herself as she reached her bedroom.

  She had already said goodnight to the aide-de-camp downstairs.

  She entered her room to find, as she had expected, her nightgown was laid ready for her.

  Nanny had gone to bed early on her instructions

  “You are not to sit up for me,” she told her firmly. “Just leave everything ready and if I am in any trouble, I will call you. Otherwise it will worry me if I think you are sitting here sleepy and I am enjoying myself downstairs.”

  Nanny had laughed, but she did not argue.

  Latasha walked to the window and pulled back the curtains a little.

  Outside there was moonlight and the sky was filled with stars.

  She could see a large garden melting away into a mass of trees.

  It looked so lovely in the moonlight and she thought it would be even lovelier tomorrow.

  ‘The Kingdom of Flowers,’ she reflected to herself, ‘yet its Ruler is not well enough to enjoy his realm.’

  She looked up at the sky.

  ‘Help him, Mama,’ she prayed. ‘Let me make him well so he can defy the Russians and keep this little Garden of Eden as lovely as it is now.’

  It was a prayer from deep in her heart and she felt as if it winged up to the stars.

  Somewhere amongst them her mother was telling her that was what she would be able to achieve.

  This was clearly the real reason that she had been brought to Oldessa.

  Latasha slept peacefully that night.

  *

  She was somewhat surprised when Nanny woke her at half-past seven.

  “I’ve been told you’re going riding,” she said, “and, if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late.”

  It was the way Nanny always spoke and Latasha laughed sleepily as she climbed out of bed.

  “I have so much to tell you, Nanny, but it will have to wait until I come back.”

  “Well, I don’t suppose it’ll run away, dearie, and as it’s a lovely day you’d better wear your smartest habit.”

  “I hope you had a good dinner last night,” Latasha asked Nanny as she finished washing.

  “It were interesting. They’re nice enough people, but they’re all scared half to death of them Russians and who’ll blame them!”

  ‘They will be safe enough if I was to marry Prince Stefan,’ mused Latasha. ‘But he is not interested in me.’

  “I’ve heard all about this from the kitchen,” Nanny continued. “As I’ve told you many times before, you never can trust them foreigners, especially the French!”

  It made Latasha think of the French Comte when he had insisted on dining with her on the Orient Express and if the courier had not made certain that he left her alone, he would have continued to pursue her.

  She wondered if Madame le Telbé’s husband knew she was flirting so openly with Prince Stefan.

  Perhaps he had some charmer of his own in Paris.

  ‘I know one thing,’ she told herself. ‘I have no wish to marry a Frenchman. One could never expect him to be faithful, while at least the English do try!’

  Once again she was thinking of Prince Stefan and she wondered if it would be possible for her ever to love him.

  It was a question which inevitably was in her mind from the moment they met.

  He was certainly very good-looking, but he seemed to her somehow extremely young – not only from the way he looked but the way he behaved.

  An older man, she thought, would have been more correct in his behaviour to her at dinner.

  Prince Stephan was like a young boy, determined to gather all ‘the fruits off the tree’. He did not have a thought for anything but his own pleasures and amusement.

  ‘He is very immature and, of course, he will learn,’ she reflected.

  Yet somehow she could not imagine him ruling the country or keeping it as beautiful and serene as it was now.

  It was exactly eight o’clock when Princess Amalie came to collect her as they had arranged.

  She gave a cry of joy as she came into the room.

  “You are coming! You are really coming! I was so worried you might change your mind.”

  “Of course I am coming riding,” answered Latasha. “Are we going alone?”

  “No, Stefan is outside with the horses and we must not keep him waiting.”

  “Of course not.”

  They ran down the steps together and Latasha saw to her surprise and delight that there were two magnificent stallions held by grooms and waiting for them outside.

  Prince Stefan was already mounted and obviously anxious to move off.

  He lifted his hat when he saw Latasha and she gave him a wave of her hand before the groom helped her into the saddle.

  As soon as she and Princess Amalie were mounted, Prince Stefan cantered off and they had to hurry to catch up with him.

  He took them away from the Palace to where there was a long stretch of uncultivated land, which ran beside the river Latasha had seen when she arrived.

  The moment he reached the river, Prince Stefan let his horse break into a gallop and they followed behind him.

  To Latasha it was sheer delight to feel the stallion moving beneath her, and to see a flood of yellow and mauve butterflies rising from the flowers in the grass.

  She had read about all this in one of her books and it was a thrill to see it actually happening before her eyes.

  Well ahead of them, Prince Stefan galloped on for nearly twenty minutes.

  Then as his horse slowed down they caught up with him.

  “That was incredibly wonderful!” Latasha cried out enthusiastically.

  “I thought that you would enjoy yourself,” Prince Stephan called to her. “I was told you were a very good rider and I take my hat off to you.”

  Latasha smiled at him.

  “Thank you – that is the nicest compliment I could possibly receive.”

  “Do you like compliments?” he enquired. “I always thought the English did not appreciate them.”

  “I can assure you that we appreciate them as much as the women of any other nation.”

  “Then I must tell you that you ride brilliantly and we must undoubtedly have a race before you leave us.”

  “A race? What sort of race?”

  “Before my brother was wounded we used to have races amongst our friends on a Racecourse which is on the other side of the Palace. Now no one bothers to arrange races and the Racecourse has been half forgotten.”

  “Oh, do let’s have a race!” cried Latasha. “It will be very exciting. But I must have the opportunity to get to know your horses beforehand, as I would like to win and say it is a win for Great Britain!”

  “You will have it,” he promised her, “but actually Kraus could arrange it so much better than I can.”

  “How long has he been so ill?” Latasha asked him.

  “I think it is nearly a year now. Of course, it was those Russians. Is it ever anything else? The only thing I can say is, let’s enjoy ourselves while we can, because it’s unlikely any of us will be here tomorrow.”

  “You must not think like that, Prince Stephan. You must make up your mind to fight them and to win!”

  “It all depends on what we would have to do – ”

  As he spoke he put his horse into a gallop again.

  Latasha guessed that he did not wish to discuss how they could stave off the Russians.

  She did not blame him and it was obviously most unpleasant for a young man of
twenty-three to be told he must marry someone selected for him by Queen Victoria.

  Especially as that someone might not even share any of his interests, in particular riding.

  ‘I am sorry for him,’ Latasha said to herself as they galloped back the way they had come.

  At the same time she knew that she had no wish to marry him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  They arrived breathlessly back at the Palace.

  As they were feeling hot after riding so fast, the two girls went at once upstairs to change.

  They put on thin muslin dresses and hurried down to breakfast.

  Latasha was just finishing her coffee when an aide-de-camp entered to inform her that the Head Gardener was waiting for her as she had requested.

  She only kept him for a few minutes.

  When she went outside, she found he was an elderly man who had been at the Palace for many years and he was to her relief most knowledgeable on flowers and herbs.

  “What I require from you,” she said, speaking in his language, “is a plant that grows wild in England and is a common perennial herb.”

  She saw that he was listening and so she continued,

  “It is a wild variety of chrysanthemum, but I don’t know what it is called in this country. It has yellow-green leaves.”

  The Head Gardener murmured to himself the word ‘chrysanthemum’ several times –

  “I thinks I knows what you mean, my Lady. Come with me.”

  He took her over several lawns bordered with huge flower beds ablaze with colour and then he opened an iron gate that led into what appeared to be an orchard.

  There were many fruit trees in full blossom and the grass beneath them was bright with wild flowers.

  Growing against one of the walls were the stems of what in England was called feverfew.

  Latasha gave a cry of delight and she realised that the Head Gardener was surprised when she ran forward towards the plants.

  “This is exactly what I want!” she cried. “This is what will cure His Royal Highness of his migraine.”

  She thought that the Head Gardener did not seem at all impressed, so she added,

  “I can assure you that my mother has given it to hundreds of people who suffer from headaches and migraine and they have all been cured.”

  She then started to look for the smallest leaves that were just beginning to sprout.