CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER TWELVE

On her return to the Palace, Melissa discovered she had been moved into, the Royal Suite. This consisted of two master bedrooms, each with its own bathroom and sitting room, as well as a large drawing room where they could meet and entertain their friends privately if they wished to avoid the more ornate splendour of the Palace. There was also a small dining room and kitchen which reminded her of the one at the lodge, for it had the same up-to-date equipment, including an enormous freezer stocked with provisions as varied as foie gras, snails in garlic butter, foil-wrapped tournedos ready to be undone and popped into the microwave oven, and plastic containers filled with out-of-season fruits.

She could not help wondering whether Louis had entertained Elise here, and the idea filled her with such repugnance that it was all she could do to control her temper when he came in and started to show her how things worked.

'We are hardly likely to be using the kitchen,' she snapped. 'We don't have any mutual friends, do we? In fact I've no friends here at all.'

'I am sure you will make some.'

'From among the courtiers? I don't count sycophants as friends.'

'There are other young women of your own age —apart from those at Court. What about Phoebe— Alexi's wife? She and her two sisters are charming.'

'I suppose I could be friends with them,' she conceded, thinking of Alexi's vivacious wife and her even gayer sisters. She had found them little different from her own friends in England and had taken an instant liking to them. She would be here for several years and she could not remain friendless, nor could she count on Louis spending much time with her. Not that she wanted him to do so. To be with him was dangerous to her peace of mind and required too much self-control.

'What will my duties be?' she asked.

'Your lady-in-waiting receives a list of them every three months. They are planned a great deal in advance.' Louis looked relieved at being able to change the subject. 'There are hospitals and factories to open, and of course you will be president of the Red Cross. My grandmother has held the position until now, but—'

'Can't she continue?'

'As my wife, you will be expected to become the patron. Phoebe will tell you all about it. You will also require your own ladies-in-waiting. I suggest Phoebe and Alexi's own sister as two of them.'

'What about Elise as the third?'

His jaw clenched. 'I don't find that remark funny.'

'I thought it would save you from suggesting it yourself! After all, wouldn't you like her to be at the Court every day?'

'Naturally.' His look was cold. 'But I doubt if it would appeal to you.'

'I couldn't care less if she lived here!' With a toss of her head, Melissa stormed out.

One week passed and then another, both of them going so quickly that she was amazed. But then her time was so preoccupied that she barely had a moment to call her own. When Louis had said there were factories and hospitals to visit she had not imagined there would be one or two each week, apart from a similar number of nursery schools, clinics and old age homes.

As the new President of the Red Cross, she was given a luncheon in her honour by the wives of the Embassy officials in the capital. This luncheon, more than anything else, made her appreciate the important military position Motavia occupied in Europe, and she was amused at the way Krassky's wife vied with the American Ambassador's wife for her attention.

Melissa acted as though to royalty born and was delighted when Phoebe, coming to dinner with Alexi, complimented her on her performance.

'You should have seen the way Her Highness dealt with Krassky's wife,' Phoebe told the table in general. 'The woman insisted on following Her Highness round the room, and it required split second timing to get rid of her!'

Melissa smiled. 'I saw a throng of people which included the British contingent, and I sailed through them and let them close ranks immediately. They completely hemmed Madame Krassky in!'

Alexi chuckled. 'I can just see her being surrounded by cackling women in feather hats!'

'She had the biggest feather of the lot!' Melissa said. 'She really is an unsightly creature.'

'You make most women look unsightly.' The compliment came from Conrad Tolkin, a friend of Louis's who had recently returned from America.

He was a leading neurologist, Melissa had discovered, and wondered whether he was the man who had fired Louis with the desire to study medicine. He looked the sort of man who could encourage one to do anything, for he had a friendly personality allied to the craggy good looks of a bear. Tonight was the third time Melissa had seen him, and she was glad to have him sitting on her right. Since he travelled abroad a great deal, he had a more Western outlook than most of the Motavians she had met, and the discovery that they had several mutual friends in New York and London increased her feeling of warmth towards him.

'This is the first time I've ever known you compliment a woman,' Louis smiled at the surgeon.

'Her Highness's beauty is unique,' Conrad replied. 'Phoebe excluded, of course!'

'Don't bother being tactful,' Phoebe chided. 'Her Highness is already well known in Motavia for her beauty.'

Melissa blushed. She was still not used to hearing herself spoken of in the third person; it made her feel as if she were not there.

Seeing her embarrassment Conrad started to talk of other things, and when dinner came to an end he remained by her side as they withdrew to the drawing room. She was not sure if he knew that her marriage to Louis was a farce, but decided it would be unwise to ask him. Though the two men were close friends, Louis might feel it was his duty to remain silent as to the reasons for his marriage, and it was only when the door opened and Elise came in that the look on Conrad's face told her he was indeed in Louis's confidence.

This was the first occasion that Melissa had seen the Countess since returning to the capital, and she was reminded of the last day of her honeymoon and the hour she had spent in Louis's arms. A tremor went through her and Conrad leaned close and put his hand on hers.

'Didn't you know Elise was coming tonight?'

'No. Louis must have—have forgotten to tell me.'

'Or decided not to,' he said bluntly. 'I love your husband as if he were my brother, but he still has a lot to learn when it comes to dealing with women like Elise.'

'I'd rather not talk about it,' Melissa said painfully.

'One day you will have to. But I agree that now isn't the time.'

He stood up as Elise glided towards them. In black chiffon, with diamonds glittering round her throat and in the lobes of her ears, she looked like the Queen of the Night, and Melissa would not have been surprised to hear her burst into song.

'Forgive me for arriving so late, Your Highness.' Elise curtsied low. 'But I only returned from Paris an hour ago and found Louis's invitation waiting for me.'

Before Melissa could reply, Elise gave her hands to Louis and curtsied again. The bodice of her dress tipped forward provocatively, affording him a view of her beautiful breasts. Melissa saw his eyes rest on them and she turned away quickly and gave her attention to Conrad, hoping to forget the tall blond man who now was giving his whole attention to the equally blonde woman beside him.

It was not possible to hear what they were saying, but occasionally Elise's husky laughter drifted over to her. Louis seemed to be enjoying himself too, for his face was flushed and he was smiling in such an inane way that she longed to kick him.

At midnight the small party broke up and Louis murmured that he would see Elise to her car. A quick look flashed between Alexi and Phoebe, though neither of them made any comment as they too left, and it was only Conrad who referred to Louis's behaviour.

'Don't forget you've got power too,' he said. 'Elise may command Louis's heart, but you can command his loyalty.'

'You make it sound easy.'

'Loving another person is never easy.'

She was startled. 'Why do you put it like that?'

'Because you do love him. The look in your eyes ... the way you tense when he comes near you. But don't be afraid. No one else has guessed.'

'That's some consolation,' she muttered. 'I don't mind about Alexi and Phoebe—like you, they know the truth of my marriage—but the rest of the Court don't.'

'Remind Louis of that,' the surgeon said, raising her hand to his lips. 'It will show him where his duty lies.'

Left alone, Melissa went to her room. She was too nervy to sleep and wrapping a housecoat around her, she paced the floor. She was not sure if Louis had left the palace with Elise, and her spirits momentarily lightened as she heard his step in the corridor. Without giving herself time to think she flung open her door and called him.

If he was surprised he hid it well, and bridged the carpeted distance between them in silence. He looked tired and had none of the vitality she normally associated with him. Perhaps he was finding their make-believe marriage more of a strain than he had anticipated. The knowledge that his sleepless nights might also be caused by desire for Elise gave her voice added sharpness.

'I didn't think you would ask your mistress to our private apartments,' she snapped.

'What difference does it make? She comes to the Court.'

'I wish she didn't!'

'I have no intention of making her an outcast. We discussed that before our marriage.'

'Then at least have the decency to confine her visits here to official functions,' Melissa stormed. 'Don't expect me to welcome her when I am dining privately with friends. I'm your wife and I deserve respect.'

'You are not .the wife of my own choosing.'

'But you did choose me and I am your wife.'

'In name ‑' He stopped and bit his lip, knowing he could not complete the sentence.

Heat flooded through her, bringing with it the memory of their sweet hour together. She had always believed that a woman rarely experienced fulfilment on the first occasion a man made love to her, yet Louis had been so tender and understanding that her response had been immediate, and their bodies had merged together as though they had known each other many times before.

'You are right, Melissa,' he said unexpectedly. 'Elise will not come to our apartment again. But I cannot ask her not to come to the Palace.'

'Her own discretion should keep her away,' Melissa snapped. 'Or doesn't she mind the gossip?'

'Of course she minds. How would you feel in her position?'

'I can't answer that, I don't know how she feels about you.'

'She is my mistress,' he said harshly. 'How do you expect her to feel?' Without replying, Melissa stepped back and slammed the door in his face.

The State visit to Slovenia was now imminent. Surprisingly Louis had agreed to let her remain in Motavia, and though she did not know what excuse he had made to Krassky, the Ambassador did not appear to regard it as a slight, and came to see her the night before he was due to accompany Louis to his own country.

'I hope Your Highness will be able to visit us on the next occasion that the Prince pays us a visit,' he said.

Carefully she gave a meaningless answer. She might not have been educated in royal diplomacy, but she had learned enough from her uncle to know when to keep silent.

'Let other people do the talking and committing,' Henry Benton had always said. 'You just smile. They can read into it what they like.'

Krassky left before dinner, which Melissa and Louis took with Princess Helene in her private apartments at the other end of the Palace. She had not yet moved and Melissa, entering the old lady's presence, wished she could persuade her to remain. Walking into these rooms was like stepping back in time for everywhere there were visual signs of the past: photographs of Louis's parents and aunt; medals that had been worn by the last reigning prince, and furnishings and bric-a-brac of an era long since gone.

But Princess Helene's mind was firmly fixed in the present, and she asked pertinent questions about her grandson's forthcoming visit to a country which she made no bones about regarding as their enemy.

'Is there any news from the mines?' she asked when, dinner over, they sat on hard-backed gilt chairs in the salon, sipping coffee.

'They are having to sink deeper shafts,' Louis replied. 'And that will cost much more than we had estimated.'

'How much more?'

'I don't know.'

Something about the set of Louis's jaw convinced Melissa he was lying, and this was confirmed when, returning to their own apartments, he abruptly asked if he could talk to her before she retired.

In their drawing room she sat down and waited for him to speak. Because they had dined with his grandmother they were both formally dressed, she in a long gown and Louis in a white dinner jacket that made him look too young to be weighed down by the responsibilities of a country struggling for its independence.

'It seems the engineers were wrong in their calculations,' Louis flung the words at her as though they were a challenge.

'How wrong?'

'By a hundred million pounds—possibly more!' He threw out his hands. 'This new amount makes nonsense of our marriage! Your company won't want to invest any more. It's too risky.'

Not sure what Sir Donald would want her to say, she gave a non-committal murmur. The tightrope of neutrality which Louis was walking was too precarious for her company to put any more money into Motavia. But the normal caution of a company did not apply in this situation, for they were merely acting as a front for the British Government and Sir Donald could well decide to give the extra financial help needed.

'I'll talk to Calvin Clement,' she hedged. 'I should be able to give you an answer by the time you return home.'

'Perhaps my visit to Slovenia is fortuitous.'

'But you have already refused their help.'

'That has only made them more eager,' he said drily.

She hesitated, then said recklessly: 'Why not ask the British Government for aid?'

'My Opposition Party would revolt.'

'And you would lose your throne?' She glared at him. 'Is that all you're concerned with—your own personal power?'

'As long as I remained here I would always have a chance of changing things.'

'You're kidding yourself!'

'I wonder.' Sighing again, he turned away. 'If only I knew what was best for the country.'

It was, she realised, a rhetorical question, for nothing she said would help him to find an answer. East or West. Whichever way he eventually turned, he alone must make the decision.

'I will talk to Clemmie,' she said.

He gave a weary shrug and unexpectedly swung round and caught her hand. 'My plane leaves early in the morning. I will say goodbye now.'

'Goodbye, Louis.' Carefully she pulled her hand away, overcome by such a longing to fling herself into his arms that she said the first thing that came into her head. 'What excuse did you eventually give Krassky for my not coming with you?'

'The one you yourself suggested.' Slowly his gaze travelled down her body, then moved up till his eyes met hers. But he did not speak and, lifting his hand in a final gesture, went out.

For most of the night Melissa slept fitfully, and was already awake when she heard the motor cavalcade leave the Palace for the airport. Immediately she got up and dressed. She had to let Sir Donald know what had happened, and this meant following the order he had asked her to adopt.

'Your calls to Britain may be monitored,' he had said. 'So in an emergency go to our Embassy.'

At eight-thirty she was talking to the British Ambassador, having left the Palace by the side door and avoided the guards detailed to watch over her.

'I will send off a coded message to Sir Donald immediately,' the Ambassador said. 'You will be at the Palace for the rest of the day?'

She nodded. 'Please call me the moment you have any news.'

Slowly the hours ticked by. Melissa lunched with Princess Helene and pretended to pay attention to the old lady's reminiscences, though she only began to listen when the conversation turned to Louis.

'I had hoped your marriage would bring you closer together,' the Princess said, 'but you are both still tense with each other. Louis in particular is nervous with you.'

Had Princess Helene used any other word, Melissa might have let it pass. Anger, contempt, dislike; these were all descriptions she could have accepted; but that Louis was nervous of her? Never!

'He is nervous with you,' his grandmother insisted. 'I have watched him carefully and he behaves as if he is acting a part.'

'We're both acting a part,' Melissa replied. 'We both have to pretend we like each other.'

'I have the feeling you are not pretending.'

The dark eyes peered at her, but it was a curiosity Melissa was determined not to satisfy. To talk of her love for Louis would serve no purpose. Deliberately she changed the subject and Princess Helene accepted it with good grace.

It was still early in the afternoon when she returned to her own apartments. It was lonely without Louis, for though he did not spend any time alone with her, merely knowing he was close at hand gave her a feeling of painful pleasure. Too restless to read, she listened to music, but even this did not calm her for long, and she switched off the tapes and sat down at the piano, hoping that if she played she might be able to relax.

The attempt was unsuccessful and she could not stop wondering what Louis was doing and whether he was resisting the pressure which Krassky would undeniably put on him. Angrily she jumped up, and was standing in the centre of the room—poised as though for flight—when the Ambassador telephoned and asked her to come to the Embassy. His tone was so urgent that she did not hesitate and, within half an hour, had once again made her escape from the Palace.

Entering the Embassy she was astounded to see Sir Donald and Calvin Clement. But she had only time to give her lawyer the barest greeting before the Foreign Secretary came immediately to his reason for being here.

'Do you think Prince Louis's visit was arranged as a cover-up for a secret meeting with them about financial aid?'

She shook her head. 'The visit was arranged weeks ago. But Louis believes Krassky will use his stay there to discuss it. When Louis asked me if Bentons would give him the extra money he needed, I hedged because I wasn't sure what you wanted me to say.'

'I didn't know myself until I talked with our Cabinet. We no longer feel we can help him.'

The news was a shock, but she tried not to show it. 'Why have you changed your mind?',

'Because we believe there is a risk of the Prince turning to Slovenia even if Motavia becomes economically sound. That being the case, we prefer to know where we stand as soon as possible.'

Melissa knew Sir Donald's fears were reasonable, but because she loved Louis she still intended to help him. Perhaps if he were given time to think, he would make the right decision.

'I will personally give him the money,' she offered. 'It would mean selling my entire holding in Bentons, but ‑'

'You can't do that!' Calvin Clement interrupted. 'If the Prince turns to Krassky, you won't want to remain here.'

'That's a chance I am willing to take.' She looked at Sir Donald. 'You won't try and stop me, will you?'

'No. But I agree with Mr Clement that you would be acting unwisely.' He hesitated, then said: 'I absolve you from the promise you gave me in London. You may leave the Prince whenever you wish.'

'If I had my way I would never leave him,' she admitted.

'My dear,' Sir Donald looked distressed, 'I am so sorry.'

She shrugged and, reluctant to discuss her emotions further, returned to the Palace. Calvin Clement came with her, using the journey to give her an exposition of Louis's predicament.

'He cannot remain neutral and this is what Sir Donald realises. If Motavia remains poor it will have a revolution and be "saved" by Krassky, and if it becomes powerful and rich it will be conquered by Krassky! That's why you must not give him your own personal fortune. The Prince needs more than money, Melissa. He needs the courage to do the right thing.'

'He doesn't know what to do! That's why I want to buy his time.'

'You won't succeed. The Motavian people themselves must make the choice.'

'They have a right to expect guidance from their Prince,' she said firmly.

'Then I hope he makes the right decision.'

'So do I,' Melissa said. 'Oh, Clemmie, so do I.'

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