Princes and Princesses: Favourite Royal Romances

by Barbara Cartland

  When her father had talked like that, Laetitia had thought it was quite possible.

  However, now on her bed, with the blinds half-drawn to keep out the sun, she knew that, even if the King did not marry Stephanie, there was no happy ending as far as she was concerned.

  If he found her again, which was very unlikely or if they met and he wanted to marry her, which really was inconceivable, the Grand Duchess would prevent it.

  Feeling as she did about the whole family, she would find it intolerable for one of Prince Paul’s daughters to be on the throne of Zvotana.

  As a member of the Royal Family of Ovenstadt, Laetitia could not marry without the Grand Duke’s permission.

  “And Cousin Augustina would never allow him to give me that!” she cried aloud. “So the sooner I erase such ridiculous ideas from my mind the better!”

  That was easier to say than to do, for once again she was feeling that she was in the King’s arms and he was kissing her.

  She knew that were he a gypsy instead of a King she would, if he asked her to do so, follow him wherever he might wander.

  ‘We would be very happy,’ she thought with a sigh.

  Then, because it was like reaching for the moon and knowing it was completely out of reach, she felt the tears come into her eyes.

  *

  “You both look lovely!” Princess Olga said when her two daughters were ready to set off for the Palace.

  Tonight, because the Princess had been permitted to be at the luncheon given for the King when he arrived, she had not been invited to the dinner party.

  This, Laetitia learned, was to consist mostly of neighbouring Royalties who would stay the night in the Palace or with their relatives or friends who lived nearby.

  And, of course, the Grand Duchess’s favourite, the Prime Minister, would also be there.

  There had been, although she was not aware of it, another heated argument between the Grand Duke and his wife when he had tried to prevent the Prime Minister from being invited.

  “The King will meet all the Civic dignitaries tomorrow when he receives the Freedom of the City,” he said firmly, “and I think it a great mistake, Augustina, for him to intrude tonight on what is really a family occasion. The ball we are giving is not only for the King but for Stephanie and young people of her age.”

  “I want the Prime Minister to be there,” the Grand Duchess replied. “After all, it is due to him that the King has come here in the first place and I think it quite wrong to leave him out of the entertainments we have arranged.”

  The Grand Duke, as usual, had been overruled and, although the Prime Minister seemed, because he was a man of the people and inclined to be aggressive, somewhat out of place, the Grand Duchess smiled on him approvingly.

  When, however, she glanced at the King seated on her right hand side at dinner, she did not approve of the way he was behaving.

  Instead of talking to Stephanie, whom she had deliberately placed on his other side, he was talking across her to the Crown Prince of Teck, who had arrived that evening to stay in the Palace.

  He was quite a pleasant young man and the Grand Duchess had thought at one time he might be a suitable match for Stephanie.

  Then, just when she was considering a representation to his country, he had become engaged to a Princess from Hungary.

  Now she told herself it would be better still for Stephanie to become Queen of Zvotana, even though there was trouble in the Capital and threats from anarchists upon the King’s life.

  ‘He should take a much firmer hand with his subjects,’ the Grand Duchess thought to herself.

  She determined that, once he was engaged to Stephanie, she would tell him exactly how he could enforce discipline upon those who were unruly.

  Anarchists were causing a great deal of trouble amongst the crowned heads of Europe.

  There had been attempts on the lives of several of her relations in the North and King Frederich, whose country lay South of Ovenstadt, had been, just before Christmas, severely wounded by a bomb that had exploded when he was making a speech in his Capital.

  ‘A firm hand is what these people need,’ the Grand Duchess thought, ‘and a speedy execution for any troublemaker who is caught.’

  She looked again at the King and realised that he was talking to the Crown Prince about partridge shooting and that Stephanie was not making the slightest effort to join in the conversation.

  Instead she was sitting back in her chair looking somewhat vacant.

  ‘I shall have to give her a talking to tomorrow morning,’ the Grand Duchess decided and turned with a forced smile to the crowned head on her left.

  When they went into the ballroom, where a number of their guests had already arrived, the Grand Duchess made it quite clear to the King that he was expected to open the ball by dancing first with Stephanie.

  “I should be delighted,” he replied, “but I am sure first that there are a number of people who should be presented to me.

  As if he was telling her what was her duty, the Grand Duchess stiffened.

  “As they have been kind enough to come here to meet me,” he went on, “I would not wish them to be disappointed.”

  There was nothing the Grand Duchess could do but present some of the guests in the ballroom, most of whom had a daughter with them, who she hoped looked as unattractive to the King as they did to her.

  A quick glance had shown her that Laetitia and Marie-Henriette were not standing near to the door through which the dinner guests had entered the ballroom.

  She had made it perfectly clear to Princess Olga that her daughters were not to meet the King. At the same time they might push themselves forward and that would not surprise her.

  But she saw that they were effacing themselves in a way with which she could not find fault, although it infuriated her to see them both looking extremely attractive.

  Then, as the King moved down the room, making no effort to start the ball, but deliberately talking to any gentleman wearing a large number of decorations, he saw Princess Olga.

  She was talking animatedly to the General who commanded Kyril’s Regiment.

  He had just made some flattering and charming remarks about her son and she replied,

  “What you have said, General, makes me very happy. And now I want you to meet my daughter.”

  She beckoned to Laetitia as she spoke and, as she came to her mother’s side, the Princess said,

  “Dearest, this is General Leinizen, who has said some very kind things about Kyril.”

  Laetitia curtseyed and, as the General took her hand, he said,

  “I might have guessed that you would be as beautiful as your mother!”

  Laetitia smiled at him.

  “Both my sister and I try to be, but as you can imagine, General, it’s a hard task!”

  The General laughed.

  As he did so, Princess Olga heard a voice beside her say,

  “I was expecting to see Your Highness at dinner so that we could continue the conversation we had at luncheon.”

  “Your Majesty,” Princess Olga said sweeping down into a graceful curtsey.

  The King looked at the General and she said,

  “May I, Your Majesty, present General Leinizen, who is in command of my son’s Regiment, which was also my husband’s.”

  The King put out his hand.

  “I am delighted to meet you, General.”

  “I am honoured, Your Majesty,” the General replied.

  When the King spoke to her mother, Laetitia had thought frantically that she must move away.

  Yet somehow because he was near her, it was impossible and she felt as if her feet were fastened to the ground.

  Then, when she thought that she must go, it was too late.

  “May I also, Your Majesty, present my daughter, Laetitia,” her mother was saying.

  Laetitia felt herself tremble and, because she dared not look at him, her eyelashes were dark against her white skin.

&nbs
p; But somehow she managed to curtsey.

  Then, as the King held her hand in his, she felt his vibrations as she had last night reaching out towards her and she was his captive.

  It was as if she was in his arms and his lips were on hers.

  She knew because he was touching her that she was trembling, but still she could not look at him until, as if he forced her to do so, she raised her eyelids and her eyes looked into his.

  He was just as handsome and overpowering as he had been last night and for a moment she was unable to look away.

  Then, when she was not certain whether he had recognised her or not, the King released her hand and turned to Princess Olga.

  “May I have the honour of this dance?” he asked.

  For a moment the Princess was too surprised to reply.

  Then she glanced a little way up the room to where the Grand Duchess had been caught by an older woman of great distinction, who was holding her in conversation in a way which had made it difficult for her to follow the King.

  “I think that would be a mistake, as Your Majesty has not yet opened the ball,” Princess Olga replied.

  “In which case, as I am sure everybody is longing to dance,” the King said, “I will open it with your daughter!”

  He turned to Laetitia as he spoke and put his arm round her waist.

  She knew as he drew her into the centre of the floor that she should protest, but her voice had died in her throat.

  As the band, which had been playing rather softly while the King was talking, now burst into the strains of a Viennese waltz, it was too late to do anything but dance as he wished her to do.

  For a moment nothing mattered except that she was close to him again, his hand was holding hers and his arm encircled her waist.

  She saw an expression of fury on the Grand Duchess’s face when she realised what was happening and a faint twinkle of amusement in the Grand Duke’s.

  There was also an expression of relief on Stephanie’s as she looked across the room to where she knew that Kyril was watching her.

  She did not go to him as she longed to do, she only knew that he was as glad as she was that the King was dancing with somebody else.

  For both of them it seemed to be an omen of good luck that things might not be quite as bad as they anticipated.

  Not until Laetitia and the King had circled the floor once did the other dancers according to custom, join them.

  Now, as they whirled round under the crystal chandeliers, the King said in what seemed to be a conversational tone,

  “I am delighted to meet you, Princess. I have heard so much about your father and how popular he was in Ovenstadt.”

  It was not what Laetitia had expected him to say.

  At the same time she was sure that he had not recognised her as his gypsy bride.

  “I am honoured, sir, that you have heard of Papa,” she replied. “We all miss him very much and our lives have – never been the – same since he – died.”

  “That is what I was told,” the King replied.

  “By whom? I had no idea that in Zvotana Your Majesty would have heard anything about us or our – troubles.”

  “When I am visiting a country,” the King answered, “I make it my business to find out everything I can about its history and about its people. In fact I was told before I arrived how very beautiful Princess Laetitia was!”

  He seemed somehow to accentuate her name and, because she was frightened, Laetitia missed her step.

  “I-I am – sorry,” she mumbled quickly.

  “I forgive you,” the King replied, “but I want you to tell me a great deal more about yourself. What do you do when you are not dancing at a ball like this? And of course receiving a great number of compliments.”

  Laetitia laughed and, because she was now quite convinced that the King did not recognise her, it was a spontaneous sound before she replied,

  “Perhaps you will be surprised, sir, when I tell you that this is the first ball I have ever attended and Your Majesty’s compliment is one of the first I have ever received!”

  “You can hardly expect me to believe that!” the King remarked.

  “It’s true and strangely enough, sir, I always tell the truth if it is – possible.”

  She spoke without thinking, then realised that she had not been entirely truthful last night, when she had let him think that she was with the Kalderash and that she was a dancer.

  She felt the colour rise in her cheeks and hoped the King was not aware of it and, if he was, he would think it was due to the dancing.

  They moved around the room again in silence, then as the band stopped the King said,

  “I will now do my duty, but I must dance with you again and I insist that you do not leave until I have done so.”

  He spoke in an authoritative way that made Laetitia stiffen in surprise, then, as their eyes met, the ballroom disappeared and instead there was only the stars overhead and the Voivode’s voice joining them together.

  Almost like the crack of a whip was the Grand Duchess’s tone as she said,

  “I hope Your Majesty has enjoyed the dance and now you must be gracious enough to dance with your little hostess who is eagerly looking forward to the honour!”

  There was no mistaking the note of acidity behind the Grand Duchess’s words, but the King only smiled and said,

  “Of course! I shall be delighted and, I believe, Princess Stephanie, we should have opened the ball together. You must forgive me if I have omitted to follow one of the customs of your country.”

  “Oh, no, Your Majesty!” Stephanie said before the Grand Duchess could prevent her. “It is not a custom of Ovenstadt, but comes from Mama’s country, Prussia, and which she has introduced here.”

  “Then I hope I can be exonerated from making a faux pas,” the King said lightly.

  As the music started again, he and Stephanie began to dance.

  Because she had been singled out by the King and also because there was no doubt that she and Marie-Henriette were the prettiest girls in the room, Laetitia found herself besieged by partners.

  Some of them were somewhat old but distinguished, some were young and good-looking, but she knew at a glance that the King was without rival the most outstanding man in the room.

  It would be impossible for him even without the glitter of the decorations on his white uniform coat not to look far more distinguished than any other man present.

  She could not help wondering as he moved past her on the dance floor if he missed the decoration he had given to the Voivode last night and if he had decided that, when he returned to his own country, he would order another to replace it.

  She had found herself wondering several times today why he had given the Voivode anything so expensive instead of the customary gold coins which were part, she knew, of every gypsy ceremony.

  It had, however, been a magnanimous as well as generous gesture and one becoming a King.

  She was sure that the Voivode would not even think of selling the decoration, but would keep it among his other treasures like the gold goblets to be passed down to future generations of the Kalderash.

  There was supper halfway through the evening to which the Grand Duchess made quite certain that the King escorted Stephanie.

  After midnight the Grand Duke gave the older guests permission to leave because they had some distance to go to their castles or houses.

  The ballroom became less crowded and Laetitia began to wonder if the King had forgotten the second dance he had demanded of her.

  Then, when after a spirited quadrille, she was talking to her partner in one of the open windows of the ballroom unexpectedly the King was beside them.

  “The next dance is ours, Princess Laetitia!” he said.

  Laetitia did not hesitate.

  She had already promised it to somebody else, but she could not refuse the King.

  In fact she had no wish to do so. She longed to be close to him once again because every mom
ent of the evening she had been vividly aware of him. Equally she knew it was dangerous.

  She was almost certain that he would not recognise her with her dark hair in ringlets on either side of her face and her only ornamentation three white roses at the back of her head.

  But there was always the possibility that he would remember her voice, her eyes or perhaps and it made her quiver to think about it – her lips.

  Laetitia’s partner bowed to her and said,

  “Thank you, Princess, for a delightful dance.”

  He moved away and the King, taking Laetitia’s hand in his, drew her out through the window and into the garden.

  There were just two steps from the marble terrace outside onto the soft grass.

  When they reached it, the King, without speaking, moved away from the lights of the Palace and passed the flower-filled beds and blossoming shrubs until they reached a small fountain in what was known as the ‘Herb Garden’.

  Here there were no lights, but there was no need for them.

  The stars which had shone above them last night and the moon which had lit The Castle made everything gleam mysteriously silver.

  There was a seat just beyond the fountain and when they reached it the King, still holding Laetitia’s hand, drew her down beside him.

  Still without saying anything, he pulled the lace mitten she was wearing, instead of white kid gloves, from her hand.

  She did not protest, she said nothing, for the simple reason that the mere fact that the King was touching her made her quiver with the same excitement he had evoked in her last night.

  She also felt, although she tried to suppress it, the fire that had come from his lips sweeping again through her body and burning wildly within her breasts.

  When her hand was free, he turned it palm upwards and in the moonlight the little mark on her wrist that the Voivode had made with his jewelled knife showed dark against the whiteness of her skin.

  The King looked at it for a long moment.

  Then he asked,

  “How could you have disappeared in that infuriating manner? How could you have left me when you knew that you belonged to me and had become my wife?”