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Authors: Barbara Cartland

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BOOK: An Introduction to the Pink Collection
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Stanislaus seemed unperturbed.

“Lord Ringwood, I must congratulate you on your charming daughter. You may consider me an expert. In Kadradtz we know how to appreciate a beautiful woman.”

Lord Ringwood's bosom swelled at this vulgar reference to his daughter. As always where his darling was concerned, he rose to new heights.

“Your Royal Highness does my daughter, and myself, too much honour,” he said, bowing low.

Stanislaus opened his mouth to speak but the Earl continued,

“I know I speak for Lady Lavina as well as myself when I say that we are deeply honoured at the opportunity of meeting a man whose name rings around the world.”

Stanislaus tried again.

“We have heard much of the glories of Kadradtz,” Lord Ringwood persisted, raising his voice slightly. “And to meet Your Royal Highness on this occasion only adds to the joy that my family was already feeling on celebrating the betrothal of my daughter, Lavina, to Lord Elswick, whom, as you can see, is here with us.”

He stopped because he had run out of breath.

Lavina turned a glance of pure admiration on her father.

Stanislaus' smile had died, replaced by a look of pure malevolence, and his eyes were dead. Quite dead.

“Quite so,” he said in a voice like an arctic wind. “Quite so.”

Abruptly he turned his head to greet the next guest, but since this was the Marquis he was very little better off.

“Your Royal Highness,” the Marquis said.

He gave the smallest bow possible. Then he raised his head and looked the Prince straight in the eye.

All at once Lavina had a terrible sensation. It was as though an earthquake had rocked the hall, shaking the building to its foundations with a terrible roar. Fire blazed, thunder raged, and the air was jagged with hatred.

Then it was over and she was back in the great hall of Balmoral. Everything was just as before, but the impression of what had happened was so powerful that for a moment she was dizzy.

“Papa,” she gasped.

He turned quickly, but Lord Elswick was faster, putting an arm firmly about Lavina's waist and drawing her away from the Prince's orbit.

The line moved on, taking them with it. Mercifully it was impossible for the Prince to follow.

“What happened to you, my dear?” the Earl asked.

“I don't know, Papa. I felt such things – as though there was hatred all around me, and somebody had murder in his heart.”

“I expect a lot of people would like to murder that man,” her father said wisely.

“You were wonderful, Papa.”

“You handled him admirably,” the Marquis agreed. “What you sensed in the air was probably him wanting to murder you for not letting him get a word in edgeways.”

For the first time Lavina noticed that Lord Elswick was rather pale, and although his words were genial there was a strange nervous tension in his voice.

As he drew her arm protectively through his she was aware that he was trembling. She tried to look into his face to divine the cause, but he looked straight ahead and refused to meet her gaze.

Her relief at escaping Prince Stanislaus was short-lived. As the receiving line reached an end Prince Stanislaus came in search of her.

“I have greatly looked forward to escorting you in to supper,” he said, taking her hand. “We have much to talk about.”

The Marquis made a movement as if to force him to release Lavina's hand, but she stopped him with a brief shake of her head, and a smile.

She did not want to sit next to Stanislaus, but she told herself that she was no baby to make a fuss. What harm could he do her at a public dinner?

So she allowed Stanislaus to lead her away to the long, elegant supper table, where she was to sit next to him.

She was acutely conscious that all eyes were on her. Everybody here knew what the Queen wanted, and knew, also, how determined she could be in pursuit of her own way.

Lavina supposed that another woman might be honoured at the distinguishing attention from a Prince. He devoted himself to her, hanging on her every word as though his life depended on it.

But she could not feel honoured. Even if this man had not threatened all she held dear, he would have been horrible to her. His flattery was not quite right. It was a performance, and he lacked the skill to make it appear real, so that everything was a travesty.

But what was worse than anything was the fact that, at this distance, her worst fears were confirmed.

Prince Stanislaus did not wash.

He tried to smother the odour of stale sweat with a cologne, but the two intermingled to make a smell that was even worse.

He chattered ceaselessly about his country, while Lavina tried to stay out of range of his foul breath.

He told her how delighted she would be with Kadradtz, how she would admire the palace, how the people would love her, and she would love them.

“And the Russians massed on your border?” she enquired sweetly. “Shall I be expected to love them too?”

He was also stupid, for he laughed merrily.

“What Russians? Where do you hear such stories? There are no Russians on the border.”

Unfortunately for him there was a lull in the talk at that moment, so that his voice carried all along the table.

The lull turned to shocked silence. All eyes turned from Stanislaus to the Queen, who was looking daggers at her guest of honour.

Lavina took advantage of the silence to say sweetly, “I am delighted to hear Your Royal Highness say so. I shall know now that we do not need to feel any concern for you.”

Stanislaus' eyes became glassy and he realised that he had made a
faux pas.

The silence seemed to stretch on, with nobody quite knowing how to end it.

The Queen spoke.

“Prince Stanislaus made a most witty observation the other day – ”

She repeated the ‘witty observation', a dire piece of drivel which fell among the company like a piece of lead. Nonetheless, everyone roared with laughter.

In the relief, Lavina met her father's eye, and saw him wink at her. Then her searching eyes found the Marquis. He was regarding her with a curious little smile, and shook his head as if to say, “Well done!”

So far, so good, Lavina thought. Surely she could get through the rest of the evening?

But worse was to come. As soon as supper was over the Queen announced ‘an impromptu dance'. Footmen then made a great play of rolling back carpets, and a pianist sat down at the piano.

“She does this sometimes at Windsor,” the Earl groaned. “We're all supposed to think how wonderful and spontaneous it is, and everybody hates it.”

“And it's so artificial,” Lavina protested. “‘Impromptu' indeed!”

“You're not going to escape lightly, I'm afraid,” the Earl sighed.

“Well, at least it will give me the chance to make myself plain to Her Majesty,” Lavina seethed.

So when the Queen summoned her to sit beside her on the dais, Lavina marched up to her seat, her face set and determined.

“You know why I have sent for you,” declared the Queen.

“Yes, ma'am, I do. You wish me to marry Prince Stanislaus, but I regret I am unable to oblige, being already betrothed.”

“Nonsense!” The single word dropped from the Queen's lips like a drop of ice.

“You will do your duty,” she declared.

“But what duty?” Lavina asked. “You yourself heard Prince Stanislaus say that he no longer feared the Russians.”

Queen Victoria made a noise of contempt.

“The man is a fool,” she declared.

“Then how can you want me to marry him?”

“Because it has nothing to do with the matter. Were he ten times a fool, which – between ourselves, I sometimes think he is – your duty would still be plain.”

“I intend to do my duty,” Lavina returned, “my duty to Lord Elswick, my promised husband.”

The Queen's eyes flashed fire. She was not used to being defied.

“We all have to make sacrifices,” she said. “I have had to make many sacrifices in my life.”

“But you married the man you loved,” Lavina pointed out.

For a moment the Queen's face softened.

“That is true,” she murmured. “I was more fortunate than you.”

“No ma'am,” Lavina said firmly. “I intend to be just as fortunate.”

For a moment the anger faded from the Queen's face.

“You love him?” she asked. “Lord Elswick? Tell me the truth.”

For a moment Lavina hesitated, then she told the truth.

“Yes ma'am. I love him.”

“As a wife loves the man at whose side she wishes to pass her life?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Have you any idea of the closeness of marriage?”

Lavina blushed.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“And you wish to share that closeness with this man?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Inwardly Lavina was rejoicing, for surely now the Queen would relent.

The next moment her hopes were cruelly dashed as Victoria said,

“Then I pity you, for your duty is clear. I have promised Prince Stanislaus that you will marry him, and my promise must be kept.”

Lavina gasped with outrage.

“You promised him without a word to me? You had no right.”

“Young woman, remember to whom you are speaking. As sovereign, I had every right.”

“You had no right at all to promise me to a man who doesn't wash. How would you like it?”

“I should not have liked it at all, but if it had been my duty, I should unhesitatingly have done so.”

“Then Your Majesty is made of sterner stuff than I. I will not do it.”

“You will do as I say!”

“No, ma'am, I will not.”

The Queen regarded her in sulphurous silence.

The Marquis appeared at the foot of the dais, bowing to his monarch, and saying,

“Forgive me, ma'am, for being a too possessive fiancé, but as Lady Lavina is my future wife, I do not like to be apart from her for long.”

“You will have to bear yourself in patience a little longer,” the Queen declared coldly. “Prince Stanislaus is my guest of honour, and I have promised him an opportunity to dance with Lady Lavina.”

“Certainly,” Lavina said, rising to her feet. “That will give me another chance to make my position plain to him.”

She descended to the foot of the dais, turning to curtsey to the furious Queen. Etiquette demanded that she wait until Her Majesty gave her permission to depart, but having gone so far she felt brave enough for anything. Queen Victoria could hardly be angrier with her than she was already.

Prince Stanislaus was bearing down on her, his arms opened to seize her.

“Are you all right?” the Marquis asked.

“Yes, thank you,” she said crisply. “I think I shall manage this very well.”

She had defeated a Queen. In her present mood, a Prince would present no problem.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lavina faced Prince Stanislaus with her head up, allowing him to fit his arms about her and take her onto the dance floor.

She moved correctly, but stiffly, holding herself like a ramrod, until he complained.

“You might be a little more accommodating.”

“I am doing my duty Your Royal Highness.”

“Well, it's a very bleak business if that's all you're doing,” he snapped.

“My duty is all I am required to do,” she informed him coolly.

Stanislaus grimaced, but said no more for a few moments. Meanwhile, as he danced, he tried to hold her closer and closer, efforts which were largely defeated by her stiffness.

“Now, come along, this will never do,” he said at last in a wheedling tone. “You really must make some effort to get along with me. I'm very willing to get along with you. I think you're pretty and charming, and will grace the throne of Kadradtz.”

When she set her mouth and stubbornly refused to answer, he persisted,

“It is the Queen's wish, and you must obey your Queen, you know.”

“Does everybody obey you in your country?” she asked.

“Certainly they do, otherwise I devise horrible tortures for them.”

“What a delightful place!”

“It is the most delightful place in the world,” he agreed, too stupid to detect her irony. “You will love it.”

“I will not love it, for I will never see it. In fact I wish never to see you again.”

“Since we are to be married, that will hardly be possible,” he said, smiling.

“I am not going to marry you. I have just told Her Majesty so.”

“And she has told me that you are.”

“I think my fiancé might have something to say about that,” she said, emboldened by the discovery that the Marquis had them under observation the whole time, frequently moving his position so that he never lost sight of her.

“Oh, be hanged to him!” Stanislaus said impatiently. “I'm tired of all this rubbish about fiancés. It's time we had a private talk.”

They were near a large set of French windows that opened onto a broad terrace. Suddenly Stanislaus' tightened his grip and began whirling her in the direction of the open windows.

Lavina tried to resist but he was too strong for her. She could feel everything slipping out of her control, and her fear began to rise.

But then Stanislaus came to an abrupt halt, uttering a violent curse.

“Get out of my way,” he snapped.

“No,” said the Marquis, standing, immobile, in the window.

“I said get out of my way.”

The Marquis spoke so quietly that only the three of them could hear.

“You deserve to be knocked senseless, and if you do not release her at once, I will do it myself.”

He leaned closer, and spoke more quietly still, in a voice of such cold menace that Lavina was startled.

“You don't really doubt me, do you? You know damned well that I'll do it. Now release her before you feel my fist.”

BOOK: An Introduction to the Pink Collection
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