The Love Light of Apollo

by Barbara Cartland

  Also it was usual for those of the old and revered families to marry young.

  Because they had been so persuasive, he had actually considered this particular choice of theirs more seriously than he had any of the other young women who had been brought to his notice.

  She was certainly very lovely and her figure was perfect and her face had been admired by every artist in the country.

  ‘If I have to marry,’ the Prince said to himself, ‘why not her?’

  Finally because she was very much in love with him and he was on the point of saying the four words that would seal his Fate.

  Then he thought that he would take her to Delos.

  Delos meant so much to him and he so loved going there alone and disliked his friends either criticising or worse still bemoaning the Temples that had been lost or plundered.

  They would chatter on and on until he could not bear to hear the same sentences again and again.

  To take the woman he was to marry to Delos would he thought be the final test.

  If she felt as he always did the very strange air that came from the Gods, then he would most certainly marry her.

  He would know for sure that he was doing the right thing.

  They had gone to the Island of Delos one evening when the sun was sinking in the sky.

  To the Prince the air was alive with mysticism that he could not put into words.

  Yet he knew that it was there for those who felt just as he did and were in touch with the Gods.

  She looked around appearing to be even more beautiful as the light from the sky haloed her head.

  The stars seemed to shine in her eyes and Apollo’s Light was everywhere as far as they could see.

  Then she said in a slightly artificial voice,

  “What a pity this place is in such a mess and everything that was worthwhile has been stolen.”

  The Prince was then taking her back to the mainland as fast as he could manage it.

  Once again he vowed to himself that he would never marry anyone until she felt as he felt in Delos.

  All the way when he was travelling towards England he was thinking of how Princess Marigold had quivered against him when he had kissed her.

  How she had known then that there was a strange Light glittering and shining in the sky and the air itself felt like a dancing flickering flame.

  It was what the Prince had felt and he could read her thoughts.

  He knew what she was feeling just by looking into her eyes.

  Then she put out her hand and slipped it into his.

  As his fingers tightened on hers, he had known she felt a mysterious quivering between them and he felt the same.

  He was sure that she had heard, as he did, the beating of silver wings and the whirring of silver wheels.

  He remembered how he himself had said to her quietly,

  “The God of Light was born here on Delos and the Greeks are perfectly aware of the strange quality of light which illuminates this Island.”

  “I can ‒ feel it,” Avila enthused to him in a whisper.

  How could she have invented anything like that? How could she have been anything but absolutely and completely truthful?

  Her feelings were his feelings and nothing would ever persuade him that this was not the truth.

  All through the turbulent Bay of Biscay and the long run up the English Channel, he was turning over and over in his mind exactly what had occurred.

  He was reliving the moment in the cavern when she had flung herself against him as she asked,

  “Shall we really have ‒ to stay here and ‒ die?”

  He had known at that moment that she was his.

  When he had bent his head forward and found her lips, he knew that it was something that had been ordained since the beginning of time.

  He had found what he had always been seeking.

  He kissed her for a long time and felt her body melt into his.

  Only when they were both a little breathless did he speak to her.

  He could see by the light of the lantern the rapture in her eyes.

  No woman could have looked more beautiful and at the same time so spiritual.

  No woman he had ever known had looked at him as if he was Apollo the God in whose territory they were standing.

  Then the question was back again as to why if she felt like that had she left him?

  *

  He arrived at Windsor Castle the following morning. He was so early that the elderly aide-de-camp was not yet on duty.

  It was therefore a young man who had taken his request to speak to Her Royal Highness Princess Marigold straight to her private apartment.

  Princess Marigold has finished breakfast, but had not yet sent for Colonel Bassett to cope with her correspondence.

  When the aide-de-camp had said His Royal Highness Prince Darius of Kanidos desired to see her, she had stiffened.

  It was a shock because she had never anticipated that anyone from Greece would follow Avila home to England.

  If Prince Darius was talkative, he might well wittingly or unwittingly cause a great deal of trouble.

  She had therefore thought quickly and said to the aide-de-camp,

  “I will see Prince Darius right away and alone. Do not inform my Ladies-in-Waiting that anyone is with me.”

  “Very good, ma’am,” the aide-de-camp bowed.

  While he was fetching Prince Darius, the Princess moved around rather restlessly.

  She was not certain how to compete with anyone who made trouble and she was wishing desperately that Prince Holden was with her.

  He would be coming to Windsor Castle later in the morning, but that was of no help at this moment.

  The door opened.

  “His Royal Highness Prince Darius of Kanidos, ma’am, is now here” the aide-de-camp then announced rather pompously.

  Princess Marigold was standing at the window and for a short moment because she was frightened she did not turn around.

  Then, as the Prince did not speak, she turned slowly so that she was now looking towards him.

  Just for a moment she saw an expression on his face that told her what he was expecting.

  Then it changed abruptly.

  He walked towards her saying:

  “I am afraid, ma’am, I have been taken to the wrong apartment. I asked to see Her Royal Highness Princess Marigold.”

  “I am Princess Marigold,” she replied nervously.

  “Not the Princess Marigold who came to Athens for the funeral of my uncle?”

  “You are quite certain of that?” Princess Marigold asked.

  “Completely and absolutely,” Prince Darius replied. “Although I do admit that there is a slight resemblance.”

  Princess Marigold looked towards the door as if she felt that someone might be listening.

  Then she appealed to him,

  “Please help me and whatever happens you must not say that here.”

  “Say what?” Prince Darius asked her looking puzzled.

  “That I am not ‒ the Princess you ‒ met in Athens,” she stuttered.

  “Then where is she?” the Prince demanded.

  Now there was a note in his voice which told the Princess that he was determined to hear the truth.

  “I want your help,” she then said. “And please be very careful ‒ what you say.”

  He sat down on an armchair and Princess Marigold then started the whole story at the very beginning.

  She told him how angry she was when she was told that she had to go to Greece because she knew that Queen Victoria was trying to prevent her marrying the man she loved.

  She recognised as she explained what she felt for Prince Holden that Prince Darius was becoming sympathetic to her.

  By the time she had finished her story he understood exactly why she had behaved as she had.

  He thought it amazingly clever on her part that no one had the slightest idea that she had been with Prince Holden when she should have been
in Athens at the funeral.

  “If you told Queen Victoria,” Princess Marigold said, “she would be very very angry. So please understand and go away as quickly as you can.”

  “I will leave immediately,” Prince Darius replied. “If you will please tell me where I can find the person who impersonated you so brilliantly.”

  Princess Marigold hesitated.

  “Why do you want to see her?” she asked him.

  “Because I am going to marry her and quite frankly nothing and no one will stop me!

  The Princess laughed and it was a happy sound.

  “What could be better,” she said, “and you will take Avila away to Greece and no one will ever guess for a moment that I might have a double somewhere in England.”

  “Just tell me where I can find her,” Prince Darius insisted, “and I promise Your Royal Highness that neither of us will ever trouble you again, unless, of course, you wish to come and visit us in Greece.”

  “I might well do that one day,” the Princess smiled, “but please promise me that you will not talk to anyone in Windsor Castle before you leave.”

  “You can trust me,” Prince Darius said. “I swear to you that everything you have told me will be shared only with my future wife.”

  The Princess went to her writing desk and wrote down Avila’s address for him.

  Then, as she handed it to the Prince, she said,

  “You are quite right to fight for what you want, that is what I had to do and I have won. But I don’t want any repercussions or reproaches.”

  “Of course not,” Prince Darius agreed at once, “and may I wish Your Royal Highness every happiness in the future.”

  “And I wish you the same,” Princess Marigold said, “and I think, if we both get our own way, we are very lucky people.”

  “And very persistent ones,” Prince Darius grinned.

  He left her and hurried to find even faster horses to carry him to the country and to Avila.

  When the first excitement of his arrival and his insistence that they should be married immediately had subsided slightly, Avila suggested,

  “We must be extremely careful that we do not betray Princess Marigold. As I expect you realise, Queen Victoria would be very angry if she ever found out what had happened.”

  “I have given the Princess my word,” Prince Darius said, “that I would not speak of it to anyone but to you, my darling.”

  “But supposing when I go back to Athens as myself, people will think it very strange that I look like Princess Marigold.”

  “Greek families,” Prince Darius said, “are very closely related to each other over many years that it is not surprising that quite a number of Greeks resemble each other.”

  He paused for a moment and then he commented,

  “Looking as you do at the moment, my precious, without that heavy black, you might be several years younger than the Princess,”

  “I suppose that is a compliment.” Avila replied. “If I was several years younger, I would be back in the schoolroom and you might find me very dull and uninteresting.”

  “I would never do that,” Prince Darius said. “To me you are everything that I have ever wanted and I will love you whatever age you are, even when your hair is white.”

  Avila laughed.

  “Then I suppose because you are like Apollo you will never grow old, but always remain the same, a God of Light and Healing and driving across the sky. It is not fair.”

  The Prince had laughed and pulled her into his arms.

  “You are so beautiful, my precious, as your beauty comes from inside rather than out, it will increase and be ever more blinding to mere mortals as the years pass.”

  “I hope that is true,” Avila sighed. “Please love me whatever I am like.”

  “You can be quite sure I will,” he answered.

  He then started once again to make arrangements for her father and mother to come to Athens as quickly as possible.

  “Avila has to have a trousseau,” Mrs. Grandell pointed out, “and that will take time.”

  “Time is what I cannot allow you,” Prince Darius said. “I want Avila with me as speedily as possible. I am going to go ahead merely so that I can arrange that everything is perfect for you. At the same time I am a very impatient bridegroom!”

  Both the Vicar and Mrs. Grandell realised that this was undoubtedly the truth.

  Then Mrs. Grandell observed a little tentatively,

  “My husband will have to ask permission of the Duke of Ilchester to be away, as he is the Duke’s Private Chaplain.”

  She hesitated for a moment and then she added,

  “Actually the Duke and Duchess are the only people who knew who I was and where I came from. When my husband was fortunate enough to be offered this position as the Duke’s Chaplain and Vicar of the village, he, of course, made enquires as to whom he had married.”

  Prince Darius smiled.

  “I expect he was surprised.”

  “I rather thought that he might be shocked that I had run away from my family. But, as you understand, I was in love.”

  “Just in the same way as I am in love with your daughter,” Prince Darius added. “I will speak to the Duke and I am sure that everything will be arranged to suit you both.”

  Next they took him to the Duke’s house.

  The Duke was delighted to meet Prince Darius, having met other members of his family some years ago.

  When he heard that he was to marry Avila, he congratulated him saying,

  “She is not only lovely but ever since she was a child, she has been one of the sweetest young girls my wife and I have ever known.”

  “You will understand,” Prince Darius said, “I want to be married as quickly as possible and not to have to hang about being miserable because we shall seem almost at the other ends of the world from each other.”

  The Duke then replied,

  “I do understand and, of course, Grandell can stay with you as long as you want him. I presume that you will wish him to marry you?”

  There was a little pause before Prince Darius responded,

  “That is what I hope to arrange, but I believe that the Vicar will understand that it will have to be a double Wedding, one here and one in Athens.”

  He thought that Avila’s father might expostulate, but instead he said,

  “Of course it would make things much easier if you could arrange that, because I want, above all things, to marry my own daughter.”

  “Of course,” Prince Darius agreed.

  Finally after what seemed to Avila to be endless conversation, everything was arranged.

  They enjoyed two perfectly happy days riding the Duke’s horses and she wanted to show the Prince the countryside she had lived in ever since she had been born.

  She loved the way he appreciated everywhere they went and the country people they had met.

  She realised that every moment they were together she loved him more than she had the moment before.

  She knew too that he felt the same about her.

  They had only to look into each other’s eyes to talk to each other without words.

  When he kissed her, she knew that the wonder and glory that she had felt in Delos was still with them.

  At last Prince Darius said that everything had been organised and he must return home.

  The night before he left he took Avila into the garden after dinner.

  It was still not quite dark although the first evening stars were coming out in the sky.

  “Promise me,” he insisted, “that you will think about me every moment that I am away.”

  “I shall be counting every second until I can be with you again.” Avila answered.

  “I am afraid to leave you,” he said putting his arms around her. “I could not go through the agony I felt all the way here when I thought I had lost you and you no longer loved me.”

  “How could you think that?” Avila said. “I cried every night when I was alone be
cause I thought I would never love anyone again and I would be unhappy for all of my life.”

  “That is something that will never happen,” Prince Darius vowed. “I love you so much, my precious darling, and I swear I will make you very happy.”

  He pulled her against him and kissed her until she felt that she was a part of him and they could not be any closer.

  Then he took her back to the Vicarage.

  She went straight up to bed knowing that she would dream that he was still kissing her.

  *

  He left early the next morning.

  Only when the chaise carrying him to London was out of sight did Mrs. Grandell say firmly,

  “Now we have a great deal to do and, unless you are going to make your future husband very angry, we shall have to hurry.”

  It was certainly a hurry to find all the clothes that she would want and to buy the gowns that she felt Prince Darius would admire.

  Fortunately there was an excellent seamstress in the village who could alter the gowns they brought from London. Therefore they could buy dresses that were already made.

  Only Avila’s Wedding dress took a little longer than anything else.

  This was because Prince Darius has told her mother exactly what he required.

  “It seems a strange idea for the bridegroom to choose the bride’s gown,” Mrs. Grandell remarked.

  “Because I am Greek I understand what he wants,” Avila said. “I am sure that he wishes me to look like ‒ one of the great Goddesses.”

  “Like Athene,” Mrs. Grandell replied, “and that is, as you know, aiming very high.”

  “We must not ‒ disappoint him,” Avila insisted nervously.

  “I am quite sure you will not,” her mother answered.

  Finally they set off from Tilbury in a grand Liner that was on its way to India.

  Avila could hardly believe that she was leaving England again so soon.

  ‘After this,’ she thought, ‘I shall be living in Greece and my husband will be Greek and so will my children.’

  She was aware as she had never really been before that her mother was very Greek.

  She knew as they were approaching the Mediterranean that Mrs. Grandell was worrying about how her family she had left so many years ago would receive her.

  She had run away knowing that nothing mattered expect her love and she could honestly say that she had never for a moment regretted doing so.