The Breadth of Heaven (14 page)

She was still holding the dress against herself, and laughing like an excited child, but as Kathy stood still, saying nothing, it seemed to occur to her that her present behaviour was probably a little mystifying to the other girl.

“But you do not know!” she exclaimed, throwing the dress on to a chair, from whence it was promptly rescued by the maid. “You don’t know why I sent for you, do you? You cannot imagine,
petite
,
what a beautiful surprise I have for you!”

Whatever the surprise might be, Kathy found it very difficult to believe that it could have the power to bestow any pleasure upon herself, but she forced an automatic smile to her lips. This was not the moment
...

“We are to go to the opera!”

“The opera?” Kathy’s voice was blank.

“Yes. It is all decided. We are not to be shut up in this place any longer. Leon says that we have to appear in public some time, and apparently there has not been a reporter outside the gate for two whole days! They will not worry us now, and besides, we have to face people. So Leon has reserved a box at the opera-house in Genoa, and we are to go there tonight! Isn’t it exciting, Kathy? It was not easy to get the box, I think, at such short notice, but of course when the manager knew who it was for
...
”
Nobody else knows that we are going; it will be quite a surprise for everyone!”

That would certainly be true. Kathy had a vision of journalists and cameramen from all comers of the globe jostling one another for a brief glimpse of the fascinating Tirhanian exiles; and she wondered whether Natalia realized that such an outing might turn out to be rather exhausting—even upsetting. Still, since Leonid had planned it
...

Quietly, she asked: “Who will be going with you, madame?”

“Why, you, of course,
cherie
,
and Leon
...”
She wrinkled her nose slightly. “And Sonja Liczak, I suppose. But,” with more enthusiasm, “her mother, the Baronin, will not be coming.” She added casually: “Colonel Zanin will be with us. He is Leon’s friend from the Embassy in Paris, you know.”

“Yes, I know. But, Madame
...” Kathy tried to think how best to say what she wanted to say, “I’d rather not—I mean, is it absolutely necessary that I should go with you tonight?” She didn’t want to spoil Natalia’s pleasure in the opera by going into the question of her own problems now—they could be sorted out in the morning, much as she would have preferred to have everything settled as soon as possible. But she didn’t think that at the moment she could face the prospect of such an evening as Natalia was envisaging—and in the company of Leonid! “You will have Mademoiselle Liczak with you, and in any case, I—I wouldn’t fit in.”

“
You
would not fit
in
?”
For a moment the other girl stared at her in wide-eyed amazement, and then she laughed, and caught hold of Kathy’s sleeve.

“Don’t be modest,
mon amie
,
it is silly, and not at all helpful. You will wear your beautiful blue dress—you remember, the one you bought in Paris?—and Sonja Liczak and I will be quite
...
quite
...”

“Overshadowed?” suggested Kathy, with a faint tinge of wry humour. “I shouldn’t think so. Your Highness, I was bo
rn
and brought up in a country vicarage in England, and I’m not used to—well, to attending magnificent functions with
... with people like yourself.”

“You should not say such things. Really, I am surprised.” The mild brown eyes looked quite severe. “Your poor father was a man of the Church, and could not have been more respectable
...
you have told me. Why should not his daughter go to the opera with anyone? It is wicked, I think, to be ashamed of your family.”

Kathy attempted to explain that she was not in the least ashamed of her family, but she could not prevent Natalia from reading her a brief but rather astonishing lecture on the subject of the inferiority complex with which, it seemed, she was supposed to be afflicted. She remembered the headache from which she had claimed to be suffering earlier in the day, and wondered whether that might possibly save her from the necessity of joining in the evening’s entertainment, but then, suddenly, she wondered why she was struggling so hard to avoid this outing. Certainly, it would be a strain ... it would probably be embarrassing. But arguing with Natalia was also a strain, and if she did go to the opera it might not be so very bad. If Leonid were escorting the dazzling Sonja Liczak he would be unlikely to spare so much as a glance at her, and with any luck she would be
able to remain entirely in the background. She loved music, and perhaps, after all, it would be more bearable than spending the evening alone in her room, with nothing but her highly unsatisfactory thoughts for company, or going to bed early, and struggling vainly to get to sleep.

She would not admit to herself that, if she did want to go, it was probably because she might never again have an opportunity to be with Leonid.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It
was an important night for the Opera House in Genoa, for it was to be the first night of a new operatic season, and for at least
a
week past every seat in the building had been booked for this opening performance. It had only been with the greatest difficulty, and much discreet manoeuvering, that the manager had been able to secure a box for the use of the former Tirhanian royal family, but under no circumstances would he have turned them away
—
one did not turn such people away, and something could always be managed. There would be tremendous excitement, of course, when it dawned on the general public that they were present, and with the practised skill of one long accustomed to the entertainment of celebrities he made discreet arrangements for the handling of the Press, and anyone else who might display an interest in the royal party. Of course, he could not prevent the possibility of something of an uproar being caused, at least outside the building
... He hoped Their Serene Highnesses realized the sort of thing they might be called upon to face.

At precisely five minutes to eight, a handsome white Jaguar slid smoothly into the Piazza di Ferrari, and drew noiselessly to a halt outside the Opera House. It was the same car in which Kathy had travelled from the airport to the Villa Albinhieri more than three weeks before, and as she once again shared the luxuriously upholstered rear seat with her employer she couldn’t help pondering on the difference between the state of her emotions now and her feelings on that earlier night.

Then, she had been smarting beneath the knowledge that the Prince was angry with her—in fact, she had fully expected to be sent home to England the following day. She had been upset; but she had also been tired, and everything had seemed a little blurred. Perhaps, also, she had known that Leonid would never dismiss her
... not as summarily as that. Leonid was essentially kind. The thought brought an embarrassing mist into her eyes, and as she determinedly stared through the offside window the brilliant street lights of Genoa seemed to quiver hazily in front of her.

It had been decided that she, Natalia and Colonel Zanin should travel in the Jaguar, and that Leonid should accompany Mademoiselle Sonja Liczak in the grey Mercedes which had brought her from the airport earlier that day, and was the property of Signora Albinhieri. Kathy was glad that the
signora
was not accompanying them, but was staying at home to spend a quiet evening with the mother of Sonja Liczak—however much she might dislike her—and she was also glad that so far Leonid, at least, had paid very little attention to her.

At least, she succeeded in convincing herself that she was glad.

Natalia had been distressed because when she came to think about it she realized that Kathy was, in a sense, going to be something of an odd one out in the party. That three ladies should be escorted to an important evening function by only two gentlemen was, in her eyes, not at all a satisfactory arrangement, and even she understood perfectly well that
the Princess Natalia and Sonja Liczak must be considered the most important of the three women. But at length Kathy had succeeded in convincing her that she was not in the least offended by the arrangement, and had even brought her to see, after a time, that it would be much pleasanter for her to be able to give her attention wholly to the music. She assured her employer that she would very much dislike on such an occasion to have had a particular escort assigned to herself, and although Natalia patently had difficulty in comprehending this viewpoint she eventually appeared moderately satisfied, and observed that she and Kathy would be able to amuse themselves by commenting on the appearance of any other female opera-goers who came within their line of vision.

Leonid and Sonja Liczak had arrived at the Opera House just ahead of the remainder of their party, and the manager was just bowing them over the threshold when the Jaguar crept silently to the foot of the steps. There were more bows for Natalia, and even for Kathy and the aristocratic-looking Colonel Zanin, and then they were all climbing a handsome staircase, attended by the manager, and Kathy realized that any other late arrivals who felt curiosity about them were being kept, discreetly, at a distance.

There were plenty of admiring glances for Natalia, ethereally regal in the floating white silk, but, although Kathy did not realize it, there were even more cast in her own direction, as she slowly climbed the stairs a little behind her employer. She was wearing the midnight blue evening gown which, under Natalia’s supervision, she had purchased in Paris, and she herself knew, as she had known when she first
tried it on during that hectic shopping expedition in the French capital, that nothing could have suited her better. Her hair, which she had washed the day before, shone like polished chestnuts in the soft light from the chandeliers, and at Natalia’s suggestion, the Princess’s own maid had arranged it for her, sweeping it up into a glorious gleaming coil which drew subtle attention to the delicate contours of her
small
oval face. Her eyes looked huge, and very deeply, startlingly blue, but only someone who knew her very well would have noticed the shadows lingering in their depths.

Leonid and Sonja Liczak had already been shown into the reserved box, for it had not been considered desirable for them to attract curiosity by lingering in the foyer, and when the rest of their party entered they were standing near the door, well out of sight of the vast, murmurous concourse of opera-goers assembled far below them in the packed auditorium. Occupants of some of the other boxes possibly had a view of them, but so far they had attracted no attention, for Leonid, at least, was almost in shadow, and his female companion had so positioned herself that her own slender, exquisitely clad form was interposed between the interesting exile and the eyes of the inquisitive.

It was the first time Kathy had really had an opportunity to study at close quarters the woman who, she was assured, was to become Leonid’s wife, for Mademoiselle Liczak had kept the remainder of the party waiting for perhaps two minutes before they left the Villa, and by the time she made her appearance in the doorway Kathy had already been installed in the Jaguar. So now the necessary introduction was made, and Kathy felt the fingers of her right hand taken in the lightest possible hold, while a pair of beautiful but cool grey eyes surveyed her with what might possibly have been a slightly startled expression behind them, and the merest suggestion of a not very enthusiastic smile touched the pink, delicately moulded mouth of Sonja Liczak. She was wearing an extremely elegant creation of silver-grey lace, topped by a slim evening coat of the same material, and as her gloves and her small satin slippers were the colour of pearls, she resembled a kind of symphony in grey. Only her gleaming, jet-black hair, coiled into an elegant pleat at the back of her head, and that small pink mouth, provided anything in the nature of an effective contrast. But the overall effect was undeniably effective, and there was little doubt that she knew it, for after the one brief moment in which she had seemed to register something like surprise at the appearance of the English girl her lovely face resumed what was probably its habitual expression of mild complacency, and as she turned back to her princely escort there was a smile lurking at the back of her eyes which indicated that in her opinion he, at least, could have little interest in the charms of other women while she was present.

It was also necessary for Colonel Zanin to be introduced to Kathy, and as she looked into the Colonel’s kind, rather handsome face, and felt her hand taken in a firm, reassuring clasp, she felt herself relax a little. At least there was one member of the party, apart from Natalia, who did not fill her with disturbing sensations of confusion or resentment. And she could not help resenting Sonja Liczak, try as she would to tell herself that the other girl was exactly the right sort of wife for Leonid, and that in any case it was no concern of hers what sort of wife he selected for himself. An uncomfortable lump arose in her throat every time she permitted herself to think about the interview she had had with Leonid only that morning, and the moment when it had seemed as if the wonderful shining dream, which she scarcely dared admit to herself she had ever cherished, might be about to come true. Now, of course, she realized that, for Leonid’s own sake, she could not have allowed it to come true, but just for that one marvellous moment anything and everything had been possible
...