An Introduction To The Eternal Collection Jubilee Edition (103 page)

At the word the blood flew to her cheeks and she felt herself blushing. There was nothing to embarrass her. She knew as clearly as if he had already asked her that Sir Robert intended to make her his wife. He would come to her tomorrow as he had promised, and then after that she need never be afraid of anything again.

Mistral had been unable to sleep. She had undressed and got into bed, but her happiness seemed to fill the room with the radiance of the warm sun long before the dawn broke. Then at length the first golden rays began to percolate through the curtains and she rose to stand on the balcony watching the dawn and remembering her first morning in Monte Carlo, that fateful morning when she met Sir Robert for the first time.

Long before it was time to leave for Church she was dressed and ready, but when she peeped into Jeanne’s room, it was to find the old woman in bed with a leaden face, saying her Rosary.

‘Are you coming to Mass this morning?’ Mistral asked.

‘I will get up right away,’ Jeanne replied, but Mistral saw the pain cross her face as she tried to move and said quickly,

‘Not if you are unwell! You look tired!’

‘I have been in pain the whole night,’ Jeanne answered, ‘but the suffering of the body is nothing to the suffering of the mind.’

Her voice quivered on the last words and Mistral saw there were unshed tears in her eyes. Impulsively she said,

‘What is the matter, Jeanne? Something is worrying you. I can see that. Will you not confide in me and trust me? Perhaps I can help.’

Jeanne shook her head violently.

‘No no,
Mademoiselle
, it is no concern of yours. Ask no questions. Besides – nothing is wrong.’

It was so palpably a lie that Mistral looked hurt.

‘I wish you would trust me,’ she said.

Jeanne looked up into her face and put out her hand to take Mistral’s fingers in hers.

‘You are young and lovely,
Mademoiselle
. You are good, too, I know that. I have watched you when we have gone to Church together, you and I. You are a child of God. Let me beg of you to keep clear of evil. There are bad, wicked people in the world,
Mademoiselle
, and only by avoiding them, by not even coming into contact with them, can we keep ourselves pure and holy as
le bon Dieu
intended.’

Jeanne spoke passionately and Mistral realised that this in some way concerned herself, but how she had no idea. She could only smile down at Jeanne and wish that by some magical means she could erase the suffering and unhappiness from her old lined face.

‘Pray do not worry about me, Jeanne,’ she said at length. Something wonderful is going to happen to me, in fact it is already happening, I cannot talk about it yet. But you shall be the first to know, I promise you that.’

She was rewarded by seeing Jeanne’s face light up. Her happiness was reflected in the older woman’s eyes, and then Jeanne’s smile faded and there was a trembling note in her voice as she asked,

‘Is it the Prince,
ma chère?’

‘No, no,’ Mistral answered hastily. ‘It is not the Prince, but do not tell Auntie Emilie, I beg of you.’

Jeanne’s face was alight again.

‘Thanks be to God if that is the truth.’

‘It
is
the truth,’ Mistral answered. ‘But – do you not like the Prince, Jeanne?’

She was rather surprised at the old woman’s concern.

‘There is nothing wrong with His Serene Highness as far as I know.’ Jeanne replied, ‘but he is not for you, M
ademoiselle
.’

‘Indeed he is not,’ Mistral answered. ‘That is why it has been so embarrassing when Aunt Emilie has so insistently thrown us at each other’s heads.’

She laughed a little, remembering how embarrassed and mortified she had been last night when Aunt Emilie forced her to write to the Prince and ask him to come to their table at the Restaurant. And yet, as it turned out, how fortunate that action had been!

If she had not told the Prince about the Rajah, he would not have suspected where she had been taken when he heard that she had been, kidnapped. He would not have come to her rescue and at this moment she might not have been standing in Jeanne’s room.

How lucky she had been, how grateful she should be to her Guardian Angel for preserving her from all harm!

Leaving Jeanne in bed, Mistral took the road which led from the hotel down to the Chapel of
St. Dévote
.

She felt that the sunshine matched her mood. She wanted to sing and dance in her very light-heartedness. Soon, very soon, she would see Sir Robert again. How often she had thought of him as she walked down this very road to Church! Yet never until now had she been able to feel his arms holding her close, to hear the sound of his voice saying,

‘My darling’.

Now, as she crouched low in the pew, everything, Mistral thought, was dark with her utter misery. How long she knelt she did not know, after a time she could not pray, but could only suffer. It was astounding that her body could endure such agony and not be torn in pieces. And there was some subtle horror in not understanding what was wrong, which made everything infinitely worse.

It was all because of Aunt Emilie, she knew that, but what she had done or how it could possibly be bad enough to make Robert behave as he had was beyond her comprehension.

At last, stiff and cold, Mistral rose from her knees. She must go back or Aunt Emilie might be angry not only with her, but with Jeanne for having let her go to Church alone. Feeling tired and dispirited, aware for the first time that her body was aching from her fall the night before, Mistral left the Chapel and began the long walk uphill to the Hotel.

It was a glorious day, the sun was as golden as the mimosa flowering in every garden. The sea was azure blue, the waves sparkling as they splashed against the yellow sand, but Mistral could see only the look in Robert’s face as he had turned from her in disgust, could hear only the bitter
taunting
in his voice as he told her that he never wanted to see her again. She had not cried, her eyes were dry, for it seemed to her that she was past tears, past everything but an utter and overwhelming despair which was beyond even her worst imaginings of purgatory.

When she reached the Hotel and heard the clock strike eleven, she realised in surprise that three hours had passed since she had first entered the Chapel for Early Mass. Three hours in which she had seemed to live a lifetime of emotion, in which she had been elevated into Heaven and then cast down again into a bitter hell.

Three hours! Aunt Emilie would be very angry! Hurriedly Mistral crossed the hall and ran up the broad stairway. As she reached the landing where their rooms were situated, she paused for a moment to get her breath, then summoning up her courage, she opened the door of the sitting room. To her surprise a man was standing at the open window looking out. He turned as she entered and she saw that it was the Prince. His arm was in a sling and she perceived with a feeling of quick concern that he was very pale.

‘Your Serene Highness!’ Mistral exclaimed and added, ‘You are better? I’ve been so worried about you! But you are not too ill to be here?’

Her voice sounded incoherent to herself, but the Prince seemed to understand. Smiling, though his eyes were serious, he crossed the room to her side.

‘Yes, I am well enough to come here, although the Doctor tried to prevent me. I had to come, for it was of the utmost importance, you understand.’

‘Is it? I mean – I do not understand,’ Mistral answered, her eyes wide. ‘Please explain. But before you do, sit down. I have not yet been able to thank you for coming to – my rescue last night.’

‘There is no need to thank me,’ the Prince said quietly.

‘But of course I must thank you,’ Mistral expostulated. ‘I would not have you think that I would have gone away and left you – had I not been – unconscious.’

‘I understood,’ the Prince said. ‘I saw what happened, and Sir Robert’s assumption was under the circumstances, quite justifiable. It was about that that I came to see you this morning.’

‘Oh!’

Mistral could think of nothing she could say. The mere mention of Robert was enough to bring all her misery back to her again.

‘I have been thinking about last night,’ the Prince said, ‘and I realise that it was both unconventional and indiscreet to take you to my Villa. At the time I was so perturbed about your finger that I forgot the construction other people might put upon the fact that you were alone and unchaperoned in my house.’

‘But nobody saw us,’ Mistral said quickly.

‘Sir Robert did for one,’ the Prince replied.

‘But Sir Robert would not – ’ Mistral began, and then let her voice die away in silence.

She had been about to say that Sir Robert would not speak of it, but she wondered if she could give such an assurance. What did she know about what Sir Robert would do or not do? She had thought that she had understood many things about him, only to find herself completely and utterly mistaken.

He was the one person in the world whose actions or reactions she could not possibly anticipate at this moment.

‘Sir Robert is a gentleman,’ the Prince said as if he had not heard Mistral’s interruption. ‘But there are also the servants, and one cannot rely upon them. In Monte Carlo the very air carries secrets, the walls have ears. No,
Mademoiselle
, we did a very foolish thing last night and I cannot allow you to suffer for something which was entirely due to my stupidity. I have therefore come here this morning to ask if you will honour me by becoming my wife.’

Not for one moment had Mistral expected him to say anything of the sort.

At his words she stared at him incredulously, far too astonished to reply. As he waited, his eyes on her face, the door which led into Emilie’s bedroom opened and she came into the room. The way in which she entered and the expression on her face told Mistral that she had been listening. The door had been ajar and she must have been standing there waiting for some time.

She swept into the centre of the room dramatically. The Prince rose to his feet and so did Mistral.

‘Your Serene Highness,’ Emilie said, making him a small curtsey. ‘You must forgive me for not being here to receive you the moment you arrived, but doubtless you have not regretted my absence. Will you forgive me if I tell you that I overheard your last words as I entered the room?’

The Prince gave Emilie a speculative look which told Mistral even as if he had said the words that he knew she had been listening. But his voice was courteous as he replied,

‘In that case there is no need for me to repeat myself,
Madame
.’

‘None at all,’ Emilie said, ‘and now we will all of us go at once to the
Chateau d’Horizon
.’

To my father?’ The Prince asked in surprise.

To the Grand Duke,’ Emilie said firmly, and Mistral could hear the rising excitement in her voice.

She clutched at her scattered senses and took a step forward.

‘One minute, Aunt Emilie,’ she said. ‘I have not yet answered the Prince.’

Her aunt turned on her with an expression of such ferocity that Mistral quailed before her.

‘You will say nothing, Mistral,’ she said. ‘There is no need. We will, as I have already said, leave at once and seek audience with the Grand Duke.’

‘But I do not understand,
Madame
,’ the Prince said. ‘If you wish to see my father, there is, of course, nothing to prevent your doing so, but he is in ignorance of my intention in coming here, and I would wish to break the news to him myself and in my own way.’

‘You will tell him now,’ Emilie said, ‘and you will repeat in front of him the proposal that you have just made to my niece.’

The Prince looked for a moment as if he would defy her, then with a shrug of his shoulders which expressed most eloquently his opinion of her, he gave in.

‘If that is what you wish,
Madame
, I have no objection.’

‘But, Aunt Emilie – ’ Mistral began.

‘You will be silent,’ Emilie snapped at her, and Mistral felt it was quite hopeless to try to intervene.

She only wanted to say that she had no desire to marry the Prince. She understood only too clearly that he was asking her out of gallantry and that it would be impossible for her, even if she loved him, to take advantage of such an action. Besides, she did not love him. Whatever Robert might feel about her, even if she were never to see him again in the whole of her life, she would love him always.

She knew that as clearly and as decisively as if she could foresee into the future. There would never be another man in her life, there would never be anyone else whom she could love so completely and so whole heartedly. In fact her heart was no longer hers.

She had given it to Robert that moment in the Church when his lips met hers, and she had surrendered herself utterly into his keeping. He might not want her, but she was his and nothing that anyone else could say or do would alter that indisputable fact. Yet it was impossible to fight with Aunt Emilie or even to argue with her.

Mistral felt as if she moved in a dream as in silence all three of them went downstairs. Outside the Hotel the Prince’s carriage was waiting. Still without speaking they got into it, Emilie and Mistral sitting side by side on the back seat, the Prince facing them.

This could not be happening, Mistral thought, as the carriage drove off. And yet there was the Prince sitting opposite her, his pallor making him perhaps more handsome than usual, although his brows were drawn together as if in pain. And there beside her was Aunt Emilie. There was something terrifying in her very bearing, in the strange, hard glitter of her eyes and in the triumph of her expression.

‘This is what she has been working for,’ Mistral thought suddenly. ‘It is for this that she has been scheming and plotting! Yet what happens now? What does it all mean? Why are we going to the Grand Duke?’

They drove on in utter silence. Mistral longed to speak, but she knew that directly she uttered a word she would again be commanded to be silent. The Prince stared out of the window. She wished she could tell him not to worry, that whatever Aunt Emilie said or did she could not force her to marry against her will. She might bully or subdue her, but marriage was a Sacrament of the Church and in that at least she must be allowed the expression of her own free will.