A Princess Runs Away, page 4
“That is what I am going to tell you,” the Prime Minister said. “I don’t know whether in your geography lessons you have heard of Saralovia. It is a small country in the North Balkans and not far from the Russian border.”
“I think I remember seeing it on the map.”
“We have been informed,” the Prime Minister went on, “by its Ruler, the Prince Gadelov, that the Russians are doing in Saralovia what they did in your father’s country. They are stirring up endless trouble amongst the poor and infiltrating in a hundred different ways which are difficult to identify until the actual Revolution starts.”
“It has happened in quite a number of the smaller countries, I believe,” Vasila remarked.
“You are quite right and in each one it was most regrettable.”
“I really cannot understand what I can do to prevent it while I am living here,” Vasila said.
“It is very easy to answer that,” the Prime Minister replied. “If the Union Jack is flying over Saralovia at the same time as the flag of its Ruler, then the Russians, as they have no wish to go to war with us, will remove their dangerous infiltration to another area.”
Still not understanding exactly what he was saying, Vasila stared at him, her dark eyes very wide in her small pointed face.
“What her Majesty is asking you to do,” the Prime Minister said gently, “is to marry Prince Gadelov and that will ensure that Saralovia is under British protection.”
“Prince Gadelov!” Vasila exclaimed. “But I have never met him!”
“You will meet him this evening,” he replied. “The reason we asked Your Royal Highness to come here with such speed is that it was only late last night we understood that His Royal Highness, who has been requesting Her Majesty for some time to find him a British bride, had grown impatient at the efforts of his Envoy and has himself arrived in England.”
Vasila was still staring at him.
She was finding it very hard to believe what he had actually said and then, in a very small voice that the Prime Minister could hardly hear, she asked,
“Has Prince Gadelov been told that – he is to marry me?”
The Prime Minister smiled.
“He has begged Her Majesty earnestly and volubly to find him a bride. And to be honest with Your Royal Highness, it has been rather difficult. We thought that we might have to refuse the request until Her Majesty thought of you.”
“I suppose I shall have time – to get to know His Royal Highness,” Vasila said hesitatingly.
“Under ordinary circumstances that is what you and every woman would expect. But the situation in Saralovia is, I believe, extremely precarious and therefore the sooner your marriage can take place the better.”
There was a poignant silence and Vasila enquired,
“Just how soon – are you planning – for me to be married?”
“Her Majesty will tell you that,” the Prime Minister said. “I think perhaps at the end of this week or at the beginning of next.”
He glanced at the clock as he rose to his feet.
“I had hoped, Your Royal Highness,” he said, “that we would have had more time to talk about it and for me to tell you a little about His Royal Highness and the country of Saralovia. Unfortunately Your Royal Highness was later than we expected in arriving.”
He looked at the clock again.
“Her Majesty will be waiting for you and it will soon be time for you to change for dinner which will be a little later than usual. It will take place in the Banqueting Room and I do think, if Your Royal Highness has never attended a State dinner before, then you will be extremely impressed.”
As he was speaking, he was walking to the door.
There was nothing Vasila could do, but rise to her feet and follow him.
When he reached the door, he said,
“I just cannot tell you, Your Royal Highness, how grateful we are to you for accepting this difficult but most important position. I feel that no one could be as efficient as you will be or will look more beautiful as the Princess of Saralovia.”
He opened the door and there was an Equerry just outside.
“Please will you escort Her Royal Highness to Her Majesty’s sitting room,” the Prime Minister said.
He bowed as Vasila passed him and went back into his room with an air of relief.
Vasila was stunned into silence.
For the moment it was difficult for her to think. Her brain did not seem to function.
How was it possible?
How could it be true that the Prime Minister had asked her to marry within a few days a man she had never even seen?
She then thought of her dream of meeting someone handsome and charming who she would fall in love with.
They would get to know each other and would find that they had many interests in common. And they would both realise that they wished to spend the rest of their lives together.
That was love!
That was the marriage she imagined herself having, not at once, but perhaps in the next two or three years.
Now, as unexpectedly as the explosion of a bomb, she was told that she was to be married.
To a man she had never seen and she knew nothing about, so that she could save his country.
She was thinking purely mechanically as they then walked down several passages.
Next the Equerry stopped and there was another Equerry standing by a large important-looking door.
Vasila knew that this was where the Queen herself would receive her.
The second Equerry bowed, but did not speak and then opening the door, he said,
“Her Royal Highness is now here, Your Majesty.”
“Send her in,” a woman’s voice replied. “We have very little time.”
The Equerry opened the door wider and Vasila, as if she was a puppet pulled by strings, moved forward.
She was in the room that she had been told was over-crowded. Indeed it seemed like something out of a book and could not be real.
Inside, sitting by the fireplace, was the small figure of a woman draped in black.
As Vasila moved forward, she was aware that the Queen was looking at her.
Her Majesty’s eyes were sharp, scrutinising her in a manner that she had not experienced before.
Avoiding several over-crowded tables, she reached the Queen and, remembering what the Baroness had taught her, she swept down in a deep curtsey.
“You are very late,” the Queen began. “And I was wondering what had happened to you.”
“I am – sorry, Your Majesty,” Vasila replied, “but I did not expect anyone to be coming for me. I was – calling on Lady Caulfield – who has been very ill.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” the Queen said. “But now we have very little time and I have to talk to you about yourself. My Prime Minister will have told you why you are here.”
“I find it hard – to believe, ma’am,” Vasila faltered. “I never imagined – that I would marry anyone – until I loved him.”
The Queen now looked at her in surprise.
“It is something that we who are Royal hope will come after marriage,” she said. “Duty comes first and an obligation to serve those we reign over.”
It flashed through Vasila’s mind that the Queen had been in love, or so everyone said, with the Prince Consort before she married him.
She had certainly not been hustled up the aisle with a man she did not know.
“I think you realise,” the Queen went on, “that this is a position of great significance and that we shall look to you to save Saralovia from all the wicked intentions of the Russians. By doing so you would make your father and mother, if they were alive, very proud of you.”
“But they are not alive,” Vasila said, “and I would like to get to know the Prince before – I accept the offer of becoming his wife.”
She spoke nervously, but as firmly as she could.
The Queen stared at her in genuine amazement.
“Has not the Prime Minister explained to you that there is no time for any procrastination or, for that matter, courting?”
Vasila did not answer and she continued,
“His Royal Highness Prince Godelov has arrived in England most unexpectedly and I know that he will wish to return to his country as soon as possible. With, of course, our protection in the shape of his wife.”
She spoke quietly and positively.
Then she was aware that Vasila was just gazing at her with her strange dark eyes.
Her fingers clenched together as if she was forcing herself not to say what was in her mind and she looked very young and very defenceless.
After a moment’s silence the Queen smiled.
“I know this has been something of a shock,” she said in a very different tone of voice, “but there is no time for the discussions that Politicians always enjoy. We just have to take action and I am sure as a sensible girl you will understand that the sooner Prince Gadelov is back in his own country, and taking you with him, the sooner we shall have the assurance that Saralovia is safe from the trouble that the Czar is currently stirring up.”
“I do appreciate – that,” Vasila replied, “but – ”
“That is all I wish to hear,” the Queen asserted.
As she spoke she picked up a small gold bell which stood on a table by her chair and rang it.
The door opened immediately and she ordered,
“Take Her Royal Highness at once to a Lady-in-Waiting who will look after her. We have only a short time to change before dinner.”
She then turned from the Equerry to look again at Vasila, who was still standing in front of her.
“Go and put on your prettiest gown, my dear, and make yourself look as charming as your mother was. We all know that first impressions are very important.”
Vasila sank down in a curtsey.
Then with considerable difficulty she backed across the room towards the door.
Before she reached it the Queen was already rising to her feet and she picked up various articles she wished to take to her bedroom with her.
Outside in the passage an Equerry said to Vasila,
“Will Your Royal Highness please follow me?”
He then led the way, moving quickly along a wide passage and up some stairs.
When he reached the top, he looked to right and left, but there was no one in sight and as she joined him he said,
“I shall have to go and see if I can find a Lady-in-Waiting. If Your Royal Highness will wait here, I will now fetch her.”
There was a sofa at the left side of the passage and beside it was a table with a number of newspapers. It was obviously a place where people waited for appointments.
The Equerry did not then wait to see if Vasila had obeyed his instructions and he hurried along the passage.
He moved so fast that he was almost running and Vasila watched him go.
Then, as he vanished out of sight, she felt a sudden panic sweep over her.
She was frightened and intimidated by the silence in the empty corridor.
Without considering for even a moment what she was doing or thinking of the consequences, she turned in the opposite direction.
Running as quickly as she could, she sped down the corridor.
She had no idea where she was going.
After she had run quite a long way without seeing anyone, she came to a staircase. It descended to the ground floor and was like the one that she had just come up.
She went down and realised that she was in what seemed a rather less important part of The Castle.
There was still no sight or sound of anyone.
Again she ran down a corridor until as it turned and twisted she came to some large windows. They looked out onto what Vasila thought must be the front where she had arrived earlier.
She went a little further along the corridor and then she was aware that there were voices ahead and the sudden smell of food.
She realised that she must be near the kitchens and she saw an open door on her left which led outside.
As she reached it, she saw waiting a large covered van drawn by two heavily built horses.
There was no one in the driving seat and she then supposed that the driver was delivering provisions to The Castle.
On another impulse and, still without thinking, she climbed up on the seat beside the driver’s and sat down.
She wondered if she should pick up the reins which were hooked onto the front of the van for safety.
At that moment a large red-faced man climbed up on the other side of the van and looked at her in surprise.
“Are you wantin’ a lift?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” Vasila answered.
“Well, I’ll take you where you wants to go if it ain’t too far. I’m in a big ’urry to get ’ome.”
“So am – I,” Vasila replied.
Then they started off.
Next, as they turned into the drive, they came to a standstill.
A carriage was coming through the main gates up towards the door that Vasila had arrived at and she could see the red carpet and footmen waiting as they had before.
The carriage coming through the gates was drawn by four fine white horses. It was an open Victoria with the hood down and an attendant sitting behind.
Inside the Victoria were two men.
One wore an English Military uniform that Vasila recognised.
The other man, leaning back comfortably, his arms spread out to support him, was a heavily built middle-aged man.
He was speaking to the Officer next to him and Vasila could see him full-face.
He was old, there was no mistaking that, as there were lines on his face that could only have come with age.
There was also, she felt, something that revealed him to be if not exotic then certainly raffish.
She could not explain it, but she knew instinctively he was what the Ambassador who taught her French called a ‘roué.’ The marks of it were clearly to be seen if one was at all intuitive.
This man she knew without being told was Prince Gadelov whom they were expecting.
The man she was to be married to because she was British.
She did not need to see the eight Cavalry Officers following in attendance.
There was no doubt that this was the Prince.
She knew at once, however wrong it might be, that she could not do what the Queen was asking of her and become his wife.
As the last of the Cavalry Escort passed them, the man driving in the van said,
“It’s a big-wig right enough. I wonders who ’e be.”
Vasila did not answer.
She was just praying she could get away from The Castle before anyone began to look for her.
The van now moved forward and passed through the gates and the sentries did not give it a second glance.
As they were outside, the man driving the van said,
“Now where does you want to go? As I’ve already said I wants to get ’ome for me supper.”
“Can you take me to – the circus?” Vasila asked.
As she said the words, she could hardly believe that she had said them herself. They seemed to come without conscious thought from her lips.
The van driver laughed.
“That’s where all the young be a-goin’ tonight,” he said. “I’d ’ave enjoyed it meself ten years ago, but now I’m too old and after a day’s work I likes to get me slippers on and ’ave a glass of ale in me ’and.”
“I can – understand that,” Vasila managed to say.
The van driver glanced at her.
“Now you take good care of yourself and don’t go gettin’ into trouble. A circus be a circus, and there’s men about who’re more concerned with pretty girls like you be than them clowns and who can blame ’em?”
He laughed as if it was his own joke and then he drove his horse a little quicker down the hill.
As they joined the main road, Vasila could hear the sound of music and loud voices and shouts of laughter.
With the lights and colour she felt it was a pleasant contrast to the darkness and grandeur of Windsor Castle.
It was also an escape from the Prince who she had just seen arriving.
“Thank you, thank you very much,” she said a little breathlessly. “It was so kind of you to bring me here.”
As Vasila climbed down from the van, she walked without anyone stopping her straight towards the circus.
“Thank you again,” she called back.
“Good luck and take care,” the van driver replied and drove on.
Vasila walked to where apparently everything was happening.
As she did so, she felt that at least for the moment she was free. No one would think that she could have left Windsor Castle and be hiding in the circus.
Now she could see the Big Top and there were a number of booths around it which attracted a lot of people.
She walked on and then saw directly ahead of her something she had read about and always wanted to see.
It was a Helter-skelter.
As she reached it, there was a shriek as two people came shooting down the steep incline.
They were holding on to each other and screaming as they reached the bottom with quite a bump. The man in charge helped them onto their feet and then they went off laughing.
A moment later two others appeared. Now the girl was screaming out loudly and trying to hide her face in the man’s shoulder as they hit the bottom with a jerk.
The man in charge said to them,
“Both of you missed ’alf your money’s worth by not lookin’.”
“I was ever so scared,” the girl giggled.
At the same time she did not sound it and Vasila thought that perhaps she was clinging to the man because she wanted to.
She looked up to the top of the Helter-skelter which had a pinnacle rising from its roof and sighed,
‘It is something I would enjoy doing myself.’
It was then she suddenly realised that she had come away from Windsor Castle without her handbag. And this meant that she had no money.
Not only none to spend on the Helter-skelter but none to go back to Hampton Court.
‘I can walk,’ she thought optimistically.
Equally it struck her that if she did go back home that was where they would first look for her.
