The Breadth of Heaven (8 page)

And in the morning no doubt she would be grateful. Resolutely, she stood up. In one hand the chauffeur had carried up the children’s suitcase, and she knelt down and opened it, looking for their pyjamas. The maid had suggested bringing them warm milk and biscuits, but they were both too sleepy, and in fact they were still fast asleep, one on each bed. With any luck she should be able to get them both into bed without waking them up.

Twenty minutes later they were both comfortably tucked up, and neither had stirred, so she rang the bell for the maid. And when a further ten minutes had elapsed, and no maid had appeared, she wandered out into the corridor, quietly closing the door behind her. It was warm and very still in the corridor as she wandered along it, and there didn’t seem to be a single sound emerging from behind any of the doors she passed, so she was all the more surprised when, just as she reached the point where the corridor merged with the huge, square hall, a voice suddenly spoke her name. It was a masculine voice, and it was tinged with an accent that was definitely foreign. It was the voice of Prince Leonid.

She jumped perceptibly, and turned, to see him standing in front of a doorway on the other side of the hall. He looked rather drawn, she thought, but not exactly tired, and he was eyeing her with something akin to distaste.

“Miss Grant! If you don’t mind, I should like to speak with you.”

He stood aside from the doorway, and indicated that he wished her to pass him, and when she did so she found herself in a long room which was lined with books. The floor was covered with more of the brightly coloured rugs which she had noticed in the hall, and there was a good deal of dark, highly polished furniture about, and several rather handsome crimson leather armchairs.

Leonid followed her into the room, and when he had closed the door behind him, he walked over to the empty marble fireplace, and stood staring thoughtfully down at the antique fire-screen which concealed the bareness of the grate. He didn’t suggest that Kathy should sit down, and in fact he allowed nearly a minute to elapse before he said anything at all. Then he lifted his dark head and looked at her, and his eyes were quite expressionless.

“You may remember,
mademoiselle,
that before leaving London we had a small talk, you and I.”

“Yes
...
yes, I remember.”

“I explained to you that my sister-in-law was in need of protection ... I should have said, partly from herself, but I assumed that you understood me. I arrived in Paris, and was greeted by an urgent message from my own country—it was important that I should be able to get home as quickly as possible. So I left Natalia in your care—because you seemed to me to be a sensible and efficient young woman—and I arranged for an old and trusted friend of mine, who happens to be attached to the Embassy in Paris, to escort you both as far as Rome. Once you had arrived there, I intended to decide myself whether you should proceed any farther at present.”

His hands behind his back, he began to pace up and down the long room. “But Natalia does not like this arrangement
... She thinks that she would prefer to dispense with the society of my friend, Colonel Zanin. And you,
mademoiselle,
you do not lift a finger to check her
—
you do not attempt to discourage her. You yourself, or so I am informed, booked the seats on the aircraft.” He laughed shortly and harshly. “A pair of irresponsible schoolgirls
...
indulging in an undignified escapade while in charge of two small children!”

He stopped his pacing up and down, and stood still, only two or three feet away from her. His eyes in his rather narrow face were hard and questioning, and he looked as if he were awaiting an explanation.

Kathy stared back at him, blinking a little, and her own eyes felt prickly with fatigue. She wanted to tell him that she had tried ... that she had done her best to be calm and sensible, and prevent Natalia leaving Paris without her appointed escort, but somehow the words wouldn’t come. She wondered why the lines of books on the shelves in front of her seemed to be expanding and contracting, and why even the accusing black eyes staring so hard into her own didn’t seem to be so very distinct any more. As if from a long distance away, she heard her own voice saying:

“I’m sorry ... I really am sorry, Your Highness
...”

And then the world went dark, and she was spinning round, and falling
...
falling
...

When she awoke, she was lying on a crimson leather sofa, and someone was bending over her, pressing a glass to her lips. Whoever it was who held the glass they had evidently been trying to force its contents down her throat, and because she couldn’t be bothered to put up much in the way of opposition she swallowed some of the liquid—and immediately regretted it, for it burnt her throat and made her cough. Her eyes flew open, and she made an attempt to sit up, but instantly a firm hand was placed on her shoulder, and a quiet voice said:

“No, you must not get up yet. Soon you will feel much better, but you must be still.”

She looked up into the face of the man who was standing beside her, and saw that it was Leonid. Instantly, she made another effort to struggle up, and
again he restrained her.

“No, you must rest.” He shook his head at her, and his voice was quietly authoritative—the voice of a man who simply did not expect to be disobeyed. He sat down on the side of the sofa and lit a cigarette
...
and inconsequentially Kathy thought that he must smoke a great deal more than was good for him.

“Poor child!” he said suddenly, staring down at her. “Were you so very tired, or is it that you are afraid of me?”

“I
...
I was rather tired,” she confessed. Then: “Did I really faint?” she asked shyly. “I’m terribly sorry!”

One of his hands moved slightly in a dismissing gesture.

“It was not your fault.” He drew on his cigarette, and surveyed her thoughtfully over the top of it. “I should have seen that you had ‘had enough,’ as you would say.”

For the first time since coming to herself, Kathy remembered exactly what had happened, and what
Leonid had been saying to her during the last few moments before everything seemed to turn dark. A faint hint of colour entered her cheeks, and in a small voice she said painfully:

“I really am sorry about
...
about what happened. I know that I should have been able to talk the Princess out of leaving Paris without your friend, but—”

“We will not discuss it any more. When I think about it, I see it is obvious that you could have done nothing. There is something which I have not yet asked you
...
What is your age, Miss Grant?”

“Twenty.” This time the flush was noticeable, and she wondered when he was going to tell her that his sister-in-law would no longer require her services.

“Twenty!” he repeated quietly. “It is not very old. And Natalia is twenty-three
...
a widow with two children. Could you handle her, do you think,
mademoiselle
?”

“I
...
” She hesitated. “I—I could have tried. But she is
...
who she is, and—”

“And you are young, and English, and a little timid, and you are not accustomed to being in a position of authority, I think.” He gave her another long look, and then stood up and stubbed out his cigarette. “To me, Natalia is a child ... sweet-tempered, easily guided. I had not realized that she could appear differently to someone like you.”

Before he could prevent her, Kathy slipped her feet to the ground and stood up. “Your Highness,” she said with sudden firmness, “I understand perfectly that you have to dismiss me. I’m sorry that—that I turned out to be so unsatisfactory. I did my best, but I’m simply not the right sort of person for
the job. And now I really would like to go to bed, if you don’t mind.”

“Naturally I don’t mind. But I don’t wish to dismiss you.”

She looked up at him in astonishment. “You don’t? Bu
t ...”

“I have other concerns,” he said rather wearily. For the first time she noticed the strain in his eyes, the lines of fatigue about his firm mouth. “My sister-in-law likes you,” he went on, “and she trusts you. At least she is happier now that you are with her. I was entirely wrong to blame you for what happened this afternoon
...
you could not have prevented it. Early tomorrow morning—no, later today,” glancing at his watch, “I shall be leaving for Tirhania, but the Princess and her children will be staying here, and I shall feel happier if you stay with them.”

Amazed, she murmured: “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Your hostess here is Signora Albinhieri
... who is my godmother, and has a fondness for all my family. You will find her very kind.”

“I think I have already met her.”

“Good.” He came closer and stood looking down at her, studying the violet eyes, dark with exhaustion, and the little smudgy shadows beneath them. “You are all right now, Miss Grant? You will not faint again?”

She did feel a little dazed, but she shook her head valiantly. “No, of course not, Your Highness. I don’t know why I fainted this evening—I’ve never done such a thing in my life before.”

“But you were so very tired.” He smiled at her, and it was the charming smile she remembered. “And
now you must certainly go to bed, but before I ring for the maid I have two more things to say to you.”

“Yes?” Her eyes were frankly sleepy.

“First I do not like to call you Miss Grant. What is your first name
... I mean, your Christian name?” “Kathy,” she said automatically.

“Then you are
...
Katherine, are you not?”
\

“Yes.”

“With your permission, I will call you Katherine.”

“Of course, if you wish to, Your Highness.”

“And the second thing I have to say to you is that to you I am not ‘Your Highness.’ So many times this evening you have said it, but I am not a person in an operetta, and if you please you will merely address me as ‘
monsieur
.
’ ”

“Yes
...
yes,
monsieur
.”

“Thank you, and now I will ring for the maid, and carry you to your room, for you will not, I think, be able to walk so far.”

She gasped, and uttered a small protest, but he ignored it, and when the maid Rosa appeared in almost immediate response to the summons of the bell he picked Kathy up, and disregarding her rather feeble assurances that she was perfectly capable of walking, bore her lightly along the corridors to her own room. Once there, he set her down, and spoke to the maid in Italian. Then he turned back to Kathy, and accorded her a slight bow.

“Goodbye, Katherine. In a few days we shall meet again. In the meantime, I trust you!”

“Thank you,
monsieur
.”

The maid, obviously acting on instructions, wanted to remain and assist her into bed, but Kathy refused to let her, and in fact was relieved when the door closed on Rosa, and at last she was alone. The small suitcase which she had brought with her from Paris had been brought up and placed at the foot of the bed, and it didn’t take her long to find a nightdress, slip out of her clothes, and climb wearily between Signora Albinhieri’s cool, faintly scented sheets.

Vaguely, she wondered what had been happening to the Princess, but she knew Natalia would be in good hands ... she didn’t need to worry. She didn’t feel like worrying about anything, for despite her weariness she was conscious of being strangely happy.

She sighed, and turned out the light, and within two minutes was fast asleep.

CHAPTER SIX

A
few
hours later Kathy awoke to find a small, frightened-looking maid—not Rosa—standing beside her bed. The girl spoke a little English, and was very apologetic.

“I knock on the door,” she explained agitatedly, “but the
signorina
does not wake! And the
signora,
she says that the
signorina
must come quickly, please!”

Kathy struggled up, pushing her tumbled hair out of her eyes. Automatically, she glanced at her wrist
-
watch. It was four a.m.

“The
signora
...
?
” She forced herself to wake up properly. “What has happened?”

The girl looked more frightened than ever. “There is something bad on the telephone,
signorina.
It is for the
principessa
...
the Signora Albinhieri has told her. She wishes that you will go to her now.”