The Love Light of Apollo

by Barbara Cartland

  “I don’t know what is the matter with you!” the Vicar said to his daughter. “You seem to me to have had such an exhausting holiday that you need another one to recuperate in!”

  “I am ‒ only a little tired, Papa,” Avila replied.

  Her mother was going to visit someone at the end of the village who was sick and, when she had driven away, Avila went back into the garden.

  She knew that she had to make an effort and not loaf about as she had been doing for the last two days.

  She walked past the yew hedges and under the trees to where there was a small stream that her mother always referred to as the ‘water garden’.

  It was very attractive, but for the present moment Avila could see only the blue mist over the Aegean Sea.

  She could hear the soft rippling waves lapping against the shore on the beautiful Island of Delos.

  She had forced herself fairly successfully not to cry for the last two nights.

  Now her unhappiness could no longer be controlled and she felt tears come into her eyes.

  Then to her surprise she heard footsteps coming towards her through the garden.

  She supposed that her father needed her and so she turned round.

  Then she was spellbound.

  She thought that she must be dreaming and her heart had stopped beating.

  It was not her father who was approaching her through the garden,

  But Prince Darius.

  For a moment when he reached her, they could only stand gazing at each other.

  Then he held out his arms.

  Without speaking and without even thinking, Avila flew towards him.

  He pulled her close to him and his lips came down on hers.

  She felt once again as if the whole world was enveloped in a vivid Light.

  She heard again the silver wheels moving overhead.

  Prince Darius kissed her not gently but possessively until, as had happened in Delos, her body melted into his.

  A long time later he raised his head to say,

  “How could you leave me? How could you go away without a single word? Why did you not tell me the truth?”

  It was impossible for Avila to speak.

  She could only stare at him, the tears still wet on her cheeks.

  Gently he kissed them away.

  Then he demanded,

  “Now tell me that you love me!”

  “Y- you ‒ know that I ‒ love you,” Avila stammered. “B-but ‒ why are you ‒ here? How did you know where to ‒ find me?”

  “I knew,” he answered, “when you left without telling me you were going, that I had to follow you. I boarded the very next ship, but I arrived in England too late to go to Windsor Castle that night.”

  Avila gave a gasp of horror.

  “You ‒ have not been to ‒ Windsor Castle?”

  The Prince smiled.

  “Does that frighten you, my darling? Not half as much as it frightened me when I found a strange young woman impersonating you.”

  Avila was now trembling.

  “You ‒ you spoke to ‒ Princess Marigold?”

  “When she was told that her visitor had come from Greece, she was sensible enough to receive me alone,” the Prince replied, “and the moment I saw her, I knew at once that she was an imposter.”

  Despite herself Avila could not help giving a little choked laugh.

  “You cannot ‒ have accused the Princess of ‒ impersonating me! But ‒ did you not think she was me?”

  “Do you suppose for a moment I did not know that, while there was a resemblance of looks, there was something really vital missing that you and I found together on the Island of Delos?”

  Avila knew exactly what he meant, but she was still frightened about what further had happened at Windsor.

  “Was the Princess ‒ very angry that ‒ you were not deceived ‒ as everybody else had been?” she wanted to know.

  “No, and she understood that I had to know the truth, the whole truth, otherwise I might go to the Queen.”

  “Y-you would not have ‒ done that?” Avila cried.

  “I would have turned the whole world upside down to find you!” the Prince declared. “If it meant accusing Queen Victoria of fraud, I would not have hesitated to do so.”

  “Princess Marigold ‒ must have been very ‒ frightened of you!” Avila gasped.

  “She was frightened but intelligent enough to understand that what I wanted was you. So she told me where to find you.”

  He did not wait for Avila to reply, but kissed her again.

  He kissed her until she felt as if she was being carried up into the sky by angels and she was burning in the heat of the sun.

  Only when they could breathe again did Prince Darius say,

  “And now, my precious one, we are going to be married as quickly as possible so that I can take you back to Greece with me.”

  “B-but ‒ you cannot ‒ marry me.”

  “Why not?” he demanded.

  “Because you thought you were ‒ proposing to someone who is ‒ Royal like yourself and I am ‒ just very ‒ ordinary.”

  The Prince laughed and it was a very happy sound.

  “How can you be ordinary if you are Athene and given to me by Apollo himself? Come now let’s go and talk to your father who I was told is writing his Sermon and so could not be disturbed.”

  Avila gave a little laugh.

  “So the servants ‒ told you to come into ‒ the garden to ‒ find me?”

  “They said that Miss Avila was in the garden and I knew that was the little Goddess for whom I was seeking.”

  “Y-you are not ‒ angry because I ‒ deceived you?” Avila asked him nervously.

  “Very angry that you did not trust me, but now I understand it was something you could not do. I was even angrier to think that you could believe you could go away and forget me.”

  “I would ‒ never have ‒ forgotten ‒ you,” Avila replied, “and I have been so desperately unhappy since I ‒ left Athens.”

  He looked down at her.

  “You are thinner and there are lines under your beautiful eyes,” he said. “So, Heart of my Heart, I believe you.”

  “I swear I will never ‒ never lie to you again, but this was not ‒ my lie and incidentally Papa does not ‒ know why I went ‒ to Athens. He just ‒ thinks I was ‒ invited by Princess Marigold to go with her and help her to brush up her Greek on the voyage.”

  Prince Darius did not speak and she added quickly,

  “Please, please ‒ don’t ‒ upset him!”

  “Do you think I would do anything that would upset you?” the Prince asked. “Now let’s go and find your father and tell him that we wish to be married.”

  They walked towards the house and, as she had done before, Avila slipped her hand into his.

  She knew, as a thrill ran through her when his fingers closed over hers, that once again they were one before all the Gods.

  It was the same feeling she had had when they were on Delos. Earlier in fact when he had taken her to see the wonder of the Parthenon.

  They entered the house and as they did so Avila was aware that her mother had returned.

  She was in the drawing room and the door was open.

  “Come and meet my mother,” Avila suggested.

  “That is something I am very anxious to do,” Prince Darius answered.

  They walked in and Mrs. Grandell, who was standing by the window, turned round in surprise.

  “Mama,” Avila began, “this is ‒ His Royal Highness Prince Darius ‒ of Kanidos whom I met when I was ‒ in Greece.”

  She rather stumbled over the introduction.

  Then she was aware that Prince Darius was staring at her mother in a strange way.

  Mrs. Grandell moved towards him and Avila was aware of a worried expression in her mother’s eyes.

  As she reached the Prince, he exclaimed,

  “But surely I am not mistaken? You are Cousin Lycia!”


  “And you are Darius!” Mrs. Grandell said. “I believe that I would have recognised you, although you are older and much bigger than when I last saw you.”

  Avila looked from one to the other.

  “Are you ‒ saying that you know ‒ Mama?” she asked the Prince.

  “Your mother is my cousin,” Prince Darius explained, “and Princess Lycia was, when she was your age, one of the most beautiful girls in the whole of Greece.”

  Avila stared at her mother in complete astonishment.

  “Princess Lycia?” she questioned.

  “I have never told Avila what happened,” Mrs. Grandell explained quickly.

  “I think you would like to know,” the Prince said, “that I saw your brother a month or so ago and he said that he often wondered what had happened to you. And now that your father is dead, he intends coming to England to try to find you.”

  “My brother said that!” Mrs. Grandell exclaimed.

  “I think that your whole family feels the same,” Prince Darius replied, “just as my family believed that you had been very harshly treated.”

  “What are you ‒ talking about ‒ what are you ‒ saying? You must ‒ tell me!” Avila cried, showing a certain amount of frustration.

  The Prince smiled and took her hand in his.

  “Your mother ran away with the man she loved,” he said, “just as I am prepared, my darling one, to run away with you if your father and mother do not accept me as a suitable husband for you.”

  “And ‒ Mama ran away‒ and she is really a ‒ Princess?”

  “A very important Princess,” Prince Darius replied. “Her father was Prince Alexius of Zacynthos, one of the largest Greek Islands. But he was an exceedingly proud man and was horrified when his breathtakingly beautiful daughter wanted to marry a not very important Englishman ‒ ”

  “My husband may not have a title,” Avila’s mother interrupted, “but his family is one of the oldest Saxon families in existence and held Office in the County of Devon long before the arrival of William the Conqueror.”

  Prince Darius laughed.

  “I am only putting it from your father’s side,” he pointed out, “for he expected you, as you were so beautiful, to marry no less than a King.”

  Avila’s mother laughed too.

  “But I fell in love,” she said, “with a young man who had just come down from Oxford University and was touring Europe.”

  “So you ‒ ran away with Papa!” Avila cried excitedly.

  “We ran away and my father cursed me for disobeying him. He declared that I was no longer one of his family and he would not acknowledge me as his daughter.”

  There was a note in her voice that told Avila how it had hurt her.

  “He also stripped me of my title and everything I possessed,” her mother went on. “But I was completely content, my dearest, just to be your father’s wife and your mother.”

  “No one can understand that better than I can,” the Prince said, “for I would marry Avila, as you call her, if she was the daughter of a fisherman. But you will understand it will make things far easier for me and for her when it is known that her mother is Princess Lycia and a cousin of my mother whom everyone loved.”

  “I loved her too,” Avila’s mother nodded.

  “Your other relatives and there are a good number of them,” Prince Darius said, “still love you and will welcome you back home. I promise you that is the truth.”

  He smiled before he added,

  “Now I know why my lovely Avila and Princess Marigold resemble each other.”

  “Why?” Avila asked.

  “The Princess’s father, Prince Dimitri of Panaeros,” he answered, “was the nephew of your mother’s mother.”

  Avila laughed.

  “So I am actually related to Princess Marigold?”

  “Yes, you are second cousins and your grandmothers were sisters,” the Prince agreed, “but it would be wise not to mention it at the moment, at any rate, not until we arrive back in Greece.”

  He saw the question she wanted to ask before it reached her lips.

  “I would like to marry Avila in Athens,” he said to her mother, “and if you agree, we will go there immediately, as I just cannot wait very much longer to make her mine. And we have some very important work to do in Delos.”

  “Married ‒ in Greece!” Avila exclaimed. “I cannot imagine ‒ anything more wonderful!”

  “That is what it will be,” the Prince said quietly.

  “I must go and tell your father,” Avila’s mother now insisted.

  She ran from the room and Prince Darius drew Avila to him.

  “How could we have imagined,” he asked, “that our Fairy Story could have such a happy ending?”

  “I could not ‒ think it was ‒ at all possible,” Avila sighed.

  “With Apollo and Athene looking after us,” the Prince replied, “everything is possible. That is why, my lovely one, we will be married in Athens and our honeymoon will be spent in the Islands, the most exciting being Delos where we will discover together what else there is hidden in the third cave.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Prince Darius did not tell Avila what he had felt when he went to the British Embassy, as arranged only to find that she had already gone.

  At first he could not believe it possible and said firmly to the butler,

  “I think you must be mistaken. I understood that Her Royal Highness was leaving later this morning.”

  “Her Royal Highness left the Embassy at eight thirty,” was the reply, “and I understand that the HM.S. Heroic sailed promptly at nine o’clock.”

  If anyone had given him a body blow Prince Darius could not have been more stunned.

  He had gone to bed thinking and believing that he had never been so happy.

  He had found the one woman in his life, who was the wife who he had always sought.

  Princess Marigold he was sure was completely and absolutely the other half of himself and he had always been quite certain that this Greek Legend was true.

  The Creator, they related, had divided the human beings He had created because he was lonely.

  One half of Him was soft, sweet, beautiful and spiritual, the other was strong, protective and far-seeing.

  Prince Darius had set in his heart a shrine that contained the ideal woman who he would marry and be happy with for ever and ever. She would help him with his work in Greece and his protection and interest in the many Islands especially Delos.

  Even when he was a small boy Prince Darius wanted to be a Guardian of that particular Island.

  Now it was his, he felt as if he had been given the most priceless jewel that the world had ever known.

  When he had taken Avila there, he was almost certain that he was right in thinking that she felt as he did.

  That the air was alive and the Gods were speaking to them as they had spoken to Apollo.

  He had not been mistaken.

  He had known with certainty then that his long search was now at an end.

  He had found the true love that all men sought and only some were fortunate enough to find.

  Yet incredibly she had left Athens without telling him.

  Without apparently even leaving a note behind to explain her strange behaviour.

  He thought it was beneath his dignity to ask, but he had to know the truth.

  “Did Her Royal Highness leave a message for me?” he enquired of the butler.

  He shook his head.

  “There was no message, Your Royal Highness,” he replied.

  It was then that Prince Darius knew that he had to find out why Marigold had left.

  Could she have really changed her mind at the last moment and no longer cared for him?

  It seemed so impossible that he almost laughed at the idea.

  He had never been in love before.

  Naturally there had been many women in his life. Because he was so handsome and of such importance, they had pursue
d him ever since he had grown up.

  He would not have been human if he had not accepted what had been offered to him so freely.

  He knew well that almost every woman with whom he came in contact, looked upon him as the God Apollo.

  Yet there was a vast difference between them and Avila.

  He confessed quite simply to himself that there had always been an expression in their eyes which he knew was an invitation.

  In fact, now he thought it out, he was fully aware of the truth.

  Whilst the other women he met looked on him as Apollo the man, Avila looked upon him as Apollo the God.

  That he told himself was the difference that he so wanted, the difference he sought and the difference he thought he had found.

  It was typical of his quickness of mind that he decided to follow Princess Marigold and learn exactly what had happened from her own lips.

  He sent a servant post-haste back to his house to collect his luggage.

  He himself went to the docks to find what was the next ship leaving for England from the Port.

  He was informed that a large Liner was leaving that evening at six o’clock.

  He booked himself the most comfortable cabin available and waited for his servant to join him in Athens.

  In the meantime so that no one should be suspicious or interested in his movements, he went back to the British Embassy to see the Ambassador.

  He appeared very much at his ease.

  He explained to the Ambassador that he had misunderstood the time the English Party was leaving.

  It was important that he should have wished Her Royal Highness, ‘Bon Voyage’.

  It was then he learnt that it was she who had changed the time of departure and it was entirely her suggestion that the H.M.S. Heroic had left so early.

  This only confused the Prince more than he was already.

  When finally he boarded the Liner he was bewildered in a way he had never been before.

  There had been one woman who he had very nearly married and who had been Greek.

  Her family was as important as his own and everyone had told him how suitable she was to be his wife.

  His relations had almost begged him on their knees to marry her.

  It was, they had pointed out to him, extremely important he should have an heir to carry on the family line.