Princes and Princesses: Favourite Royal Romances

by Barbara Cartland

  Surely somebody would see them eventually and investigate the whereabouts of their owners?

  Her eyes were now growing more accustomed to the darkness of the cellar and she could see more clearly.

  To her surprise, they were not the only occupants of their prison.

  A packing case attracted her attention first, quite a small one but closed and behind it she saw the frame of a picture, in fact there were two of them.

  Then she looked to the other side and thought that she could make out a large Chinese vase.

  There were several other items besides a number of roughly wrapped parcels.

  It was then she realised why Fred Cotter had never been convicted on the charges brought against him for robbery.

  This was where he had hidden all his spoils and he would take them out only when he had arranged for a dealer to purchase them.

  It was indeed a clever plot.

  With a sinking heart Odela realised that no one had ever thought for a moment that this was where they might be hidden.

  The Marquis moved and she realised that he was pushing himself back so that he could sit upright against the wall behind them.

  Because the ground was hard and uncomfortable, Odela thought that she would do the same as, because the rope was so tight, it was becoming even more painful.

  Then, as she pushed her head back, she had an idea.

  Fred Cotter had gagged her.

  But the gag was tied over her chignon into which she had twisted her hair under her riding hat.

  Her hair was so long that when she rode she invariably twisted it into a chignon, which she started high up at the back of her head so that a great deal of her hair was under her hat.

  Now she thought that she might be able to rub out her hairpins and if she could do that, her hair would fall down her back and loosen the gag.

  She then moved backwards and forwards against the wall and the Marquis, who was sitting up, was watching her.

  Finally, as Odela shook her head, there was the faint tinkle as two hairpins fell to the ground.

  A moment later by moving her lips as violently as she could, the gag slipped over her chin.

  “I am – free,” she exclaimed. “Now I can talk to you. How could this – have happened?”

  The Marquis could not answer, but she knew how much he wanted to.

  She studied him for a moment and then she said,

  “If somehow you can move closer to me, I might be able to undo the back of your gag with my teeth,”

  He could not answer, he only did as she suggested.

  With some difficulty he managed to manoeuvre his head so that the back of it was as near to her lips as possible.

  The cotton handkerchief was tightly knotted and it took Odela a long time.

  She began to feel exhausted by the effort and she was also suffering with the weight of the Marquis’s body against her shoulder.

  Then suddenly and unexpectedly the handkerchief slipped.

  “Thank God!” the Marquis cried.

  He propelled himself back into his former position before he asked,

  “How can you have been so clever? But now we have to escape!”

  “But – how?” Odela asked.

  “In the same way that you released my gag I will undo the ropes that bind you,” he said. “Turn over onto your side.”

  “Do you – really think – you can – do it?”

  “I shall need a lot of luck and your prayers,” the Marquis answered.

  “You know – you have those,” Odela answered, “but how could we have imagined when we came here that – this was where Fred Cotter kept all the things he had stolen?”

  “What I am asking myself is why I was fool enough to show him any mercy,” the Marquis groaned. “It is something that will not happen again!”

  “He means – us to – die here,” Odela said in a frightened voice.

  “Then he is going to be disappointed,” the Marquis replied. “Turn sideways.”

  Odela did as she was told.

  Although it took a long time, she could feel the Marquis working with his teeth on the ropes that bound her.

  It was a thick coarse rope and Odela was sure that, because Fred Cotter and his accomplice had tied it round them so quickly and so skilfully, it was a routine that they had had a great deal of practice at.

  ‘Perhaps he has left a number of other people to die here in the same wicked way,’ she thought with horror.

  It must have been nearly an hour later before the Marquis gave an exclamation of triumph.

  Then the rope began to slacken from around her body.

  For a moment Odela could hardly believe that it was true.

  Then, as she moved and shook herself, she was free.

  “You have – done it!” she cried. “You have done it. Now I must – undo you.”

  Sitting beside the Marquis Odela struggled with the rope, which had been tied with all the strength of the big man behind him.

  It flashed through her mind that perhaps it would be easier to fetch somebody to help her and then she knew that it would be very humiliating for the Marquis to be found trussed up and helpless.

  “I suppose you don’t happen to be carrying a knife?” she asked hopefully him.

  “I have already thought of that,” the Marquis replied, “and I have cursed myself for not thinking one might be necessary.”

  “How could we have expected anything like this – to happen?” Odela asked.

  Then she had an idea.

  Looking across at the pile of things that Fred Cotter had stolen, she said,

  “Let’s see if there is something here that I can cut your ropes with.”

  She did not wish to depress the Marquis, but she realised that it was going to be a Herculean task to undo the thick rope with her long thin fingers.

  Without waiting for him to agree she jumped up and pulled the coverings from the parcels one by one.

  There were snuffboxes with exquisitely enamelled lids, which she was sure were unique and very valuable.

  There were a number of bronzes that were skilfully made and there was a collection of miniatures that had obviously come from some ancestral home like Coombe Court.

  Then just as she was despairing of finding anything there was a long leather box.

  She opened it and gave a cry of relief.

  “What have you found?” the Marquis asked hopefully.

  “A pair of very elaborate carvers!” she replied.

  She picked up the knives.

  As she did so, she saw that the box was embellished with the Coat of Arms of what she thought must be a London Livery Company.

  She was, however, concerned only with the long fine steel blade.

  It had a very elaborate silver-gilt handle as did the fork that rested in its groove beside it.

  She ran to the Marquis and knelt down beside him.

  The knife was sharp and it took her only a few minutes to cut through the ropes.

  The Marquis shook himself free of them and Odela was still kneeling as he pulled the last rope from around his knees.

  Then he bent forward and putting his arms around her said,

  “Thank you, my darling! I don’t believe that any other woman in the world could have been so wonderful!”

  Before she could move and before she could realise what was happening, his lips were on hers.

  He kissed her fiercely and demandingly, as if he was afraid that this was something he had thought he would never be able to do.

  For a second Odela could only feel surprise.

  Then, as his lips made hers captive, a strange sensation invaded her whole body.

  It moved like lightning from her breasts into her lips.

  She knew then that this was what she had wanted and this was why she had felt happy when she was coming to the Folly.

  The few minutes that they had been together before Fred Cotter arrived had been an enchantment beyond words.


  The Marquis raised his head to look down at her.

  Then without saying a word he was kissing her again, kissing her possessively and passionately.

  Without thinking she put up her hand as if to protect herself and instantly she was free, but it was impossible to speak.

  She could only gaze up at the Marquis with eyes that seemed to fill her small face.

  Even in the dim light of the cellar he could see that they were shining like stars.

  The Marquis rose to his feet.

  “Let’s get out of this damned place,” he urged her. “I have never been in such a tight corner before and it is thanks entirely to you that we are alive.”

  Because the ceiling was so low he had to bend his head to walk towards the grating.

  He pushed it open and turned to hold out his hand to Odela.

  She followed him and, as she reached him, the light was on her face.

  “I have so much to say to you, my precious,” he said, “but first we have to catch and imprison that devil before he does any more harm.”

  “Yes – of course,” Odela agreed.

  At the same time she felt that nothing mattered except that she was with the Marquis.

  Now she admitted to herself that she loved him.

  “I will fetch our hats,” the Marquis said.

  Odela waited outside as he went back into the Folly.

  As she stood in the sunshine, it was hard to believe that they might have died in the cellar.

  ‘Thank You God – thank You,’ she whispered and felt strongly that her mother was very near her.

  The Marquis returned and they then walked to the other side of the Folly.

  As Odela had hoped, Fred Cotter had not found their horses and Dragonfly and Saracen were still waiting patiently behind the Folly.

  It was only as they reached them that Odela was aware that her hair was falling over her shoulders.

  She caught hold of it and began to twist it.

  “That is how I want you to look,” the Marquis said, “and how you should have looked when you were the Sleeping Princess from Sleeping Beauty!”

  Odela gave a shaky little laugh.

  She managed to twist her hair into some sort of shape and then she pinned it with the two hairpins that had not fallen out.

  She put on her riding hat with its gauze veil and the Marquis lifted her onto Dragonfly’s saddle.

  Pulling her riding skirt into place he looked up at her and said quietly,

  “I suppose you know how wonderful you have been, but I will tell you all about it when we have more time.”

  He mounted Saracen before she could make any reply.

  She knew, because of the look in his eyes and the way he had spoken, that her heart had turned several somersaults.

  Only when they had ridden side by side down into the wood did Odela say,

  “We ought – not ride back to – Coombe Court together.”

  “I have been thinking about that,” the Marquis replied, “and, if you will go home, I will call the Chief Constable and have Cotter and that criminal with him arrested as soon as possible.”

  Odela gave a little exclamation and he added quickly,

  “I will try to keep your name out of this drama altogether and unless Cotter gives you away, which I think is unlikely, no one need know that you were with me.”

  “Oh, please – try to do – so,” Odela began.

  “You do realise that I have to know the truth sooner or later and that I must see you?”

  “Y-yes – of course.”

  The Marquis thought for a moment.

  And then he asked,

  “What time does Nanny go to bed?”

  “Early,” Odela replied, “usually at about half-past-nine.”

  “Then you come to the library at ten o’clock.”

  “I – will – try.”

  “I shall be waiting for you.”

  He put out his hand and, when she put hers into it, he kissed her fingers.

  “Take care of yourself, my beautiful Sleeping Princess and I will make certain that there will be no more rampaging dragons to frighten you.”

  He smiled at her as she spoke and raised his hat.

  Then he was riding away into the wood as Odela rode off in the opposite direction.

  As she went, she was saying more prayers of thankfulness and gratitude.

  They had been saved by the mercy of God from what might have been a slow death from starvation.

  Then their bodies would have rotted until only the bones were left.

  The only alternative to such a Fate would have been if somebody had found the horses and even then it would have taken a very astute person to guess that there was a cellar beneath the Folly.

  It would never have occurred to anybody living locally that Fred Cotter would have hidden his loot there,

  ‘We have been lucky, very very lucky!’ she mused.

  She realised too how humiliating it would have been for the Marquis if they had been found roped and imprisoned.

  And as far as she was concerned it would have been disastrous.

  It was then for the first time she questioned if the Marquis loved her as much as she loved him.

  When he had kissed her, she had felt as if they were joined not only physically but spiritually by God Himself.

  The Marquis was the man of her dreams, the man she had always believed she would meet some day.

  There could be no one else in her life except her ‘Dream Lover’.

  But for him there had been many women, including the beautiful Lady Beaton whom he had just taken back to London.

  She could clearly remember what the Head Housemaid had said about him and the way that quite a number of the servants who came to call on Nanny had said how handsome he was.

  They also implied that there were a great number of women only too ready to tell him so.

  ‘Perhaps he is only interested in me because I am new and mysterious,’ Odela pondered.

  Quite suddenly she was afraid – afraid of being disillusioned.

  Afraid too of being hurt.

  But how could she be anything else when she could feel the love that she had for the Marquis pulsating through her whole body?

  When he had kissed her, it had been the most wonderful thing that could ever have happened to her.

  It had been a rapture and an ecstasy beyond anything she could imagine.

  She had felt, even in that strange dark place where they had been left to die an inglorious death, as if she had reached Heaven itself.

  ‘I love him so much!’ she thought desperately, ‘and the most sensible thing I could do now would be to go and hide myself somewhere else.’

  Then she knew that it was something she dare not do.

  She had not been frightened before because she had known that she was going to Nanny.

  But if she went off alone there might perhaps be more men like Fred Cotter to injure and terrify her.

  There might also be men who would also want to kiss her, as the Marquis had done, because she was pretty.

  She suddenly thought that, if he was only interested in her because she had a pretty face, she would want to die.

  Yet she knew that it was such a strong feeling and it came from the very depths of her heart.

  She would never love another man in the same way that she loved the Marquis.

  Chapter Seven

  The Marquis went into the library at a quarter-to-ten.

  The fire was burning brightly and he lit more candles than had been left by the footmen and sat down to look up at his ancestor’s portrait.

  He was somewhat afraid that Odela would be too nervous to come to him.

  Then after he had waited for about fifteen minutes the door opened and she came in.

  To his surprise her hair was hanging over her shoulders and she was wearing what he realised was a very pretty but simple dressing gown.

  She ran towards him and said in a breathless voic
e,

  “I only – came to – tell you that I – cannot come to – you as we had – planned.”

  “But you are here,” he replied.

  “Only to – tell you that I – cannot come – because I have had to – undress.”

  She thought that he looked surprised and went on,

  “Betty was – restless and Nanny could not go to bed. She came in and – helped me to – take off my – gown.

  She smiled at him before saying,

  “There was – nothing I could – do. She would have thought it – very strange if I – had dressed again.”

  “I understand,” the Marquis commented, “but equally you look very lovely as you are and I am sure that, if Nanny thinks you are in bed, she will not now disturb you.”

  “I cannot be – certain of – that.”

  “I would like you to take a chance on it,” the Marquis suggested with a smile. “I am sure that you will want to know what happened to Fred Cotter.”

  “Yes – of course – I do,” she agreed, “but I-I feel – shy because I look – like this.”

  “Forget it,” the Marquis urged, “and let me tell you what happened after we left each other in the wood.”

  Because she was intensely curious Odela did as he advised and sat down in a high-backed armchair.

  The Marquis sat opposite her and they were on each side of the fireplace.

  Odela clasped her hands together arid bent forward. She did not want to miss a word of what the Marquis was saying.

  “I went, as I told you I was going to do,” he began, “straight to the Chief Constable. He lives only about two miles away. As luck would have it, as I arrived, he was having a consultation with senior members of the Police Force in the neighbourhood.”

  Odela gave a little exclamation, but she did not interrupt.

  “We went almost at once to Fred Cotter’s house and caught him and his accomplice red-handed.”

  “Red-handed?” Odela questioned.

  “They were packing up a piece of jewellery that Cotter had stolen some time ago and for which he had presumably just found a buyer.”

  “I thought that was the way he – worked,” Odela said in a low voice.

  “You are quite right,” the Marquis affirmed, “and Cotter is now safely behind bars in Oxford.”