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Authors: Barbara Cartland

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BOOK: Bride to the King
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“While I am here, could somebody tell me about Dórsia and its people?”

She paused a moment to say quickly,

“I don’t mean just its history, I mean the real human truths which one cannot – find in – books.”

He did not speak and thinking that he had not understood, she went on,

“It is like not being told how beautiful the Palace is before I came or that the flowers are so brilliant and the people in the streets so colourful. I am frightened that if I am not looking out for what I should see, I might miss something important.”

The Regent still did not reply and after a second she said,

“I-I thought you would – understand – what I am trying to say.”

“I do understand,” he answered. “I understand very well. It is just such a request is one that has never been made to me before.”

“Perhaps you – think it is the – wrong sort of – curiosity,” Zosina murmured.

“It would be impossible for me to think that,” the Regent replied, “because it is exactly what you should want to know.”

She had a strange feeling that he was going to add, ‘but I had not expected you to do so,’ then deliberately prevented himself from saying it.

“What I will do while you are here,” the Regent continued before she could answer, “is to try and give you what I believe is called a ‘thumbnail sketch’ of the people you will meet and the places you will see.”

He gave a little laugh before he added,

“I may not be as eloquent as some of our historical scholars or as indiscreet as the biographers of our important citizens, but I will certainly be shorter and, I hope, more informative.”

“If you would – really do that,” Zosina said, “I should be very – grateful. But I don’t wish to be a – nuisance.”

“You could never be that!” the Regent replied with a smile. “Now let me tell you a little about the people who are here at this table and perhaps it would be politic to start with the Prime Minister.”

He looked past Zosina down the table as he spoke and she had a feeling he deliberately missed out the King who was sitting next to her.

He gave her, as he had suggested, a ‘thumbnail sketch’ of the Prime Minister which not only made her laugh, but at the same time, made her aware of him as a man as well as a personality.

The Regent came next to one of the King’s aunts and he described her in a few words that made Zosina feel as if she was a character in a novel.

He spoke of two more people and then, as he paused, she said eagerly,

“Thank you, thank you, but do go on! You make everybody you have spoken about seem so real and also exciting to get to know. Please don’t stop!”

“I am only too willing to go on,” the Regent replied. “At the same time – ”

He glanced as he spoke towards the King and Zosina realised she had committed a social error in talking to him for so long and not turning to the man on her other side, as she had been taught to do when at luncheon and dinner parties.

She was just about to say, ‘the King does not want to talk to me’, when it struck her that the Regent perhaps wanted to talk to the very attractive lady on his left.

“I am – sorry,” she said humbly. “I am being – selfish.”

As she spoke, she turned her face towards the King to find that he was sitting staring at the base of the candelabrum in front of him as if he had never seen it before.

It did not seem as if he wished to speak to her, but Zosina knew that she must make an effort and, after a moment, she said in a nervous little voice,

“I was wondering – Your Majesty, what we will be – doing tomorrow. I know there is to be a – banquet in the – evening.”

“Then you know more than I do!” the King replied disagreeably. “You don’t suppose I have had anything to do with arranging all this ballyhoo, do you?”

Zosina ignored his rudeness and went on,

“I suppose State visits and that – sort of thing must seem very – commonplace to you, Sire, but, as I have never been on one before, I find it very exciting!”

“Exciting!” the King exclaimed. “I can tell you it is a deadly bore from start to finish. The only event slightly amusing might be the masked ball.”

There was just a touch of interest in his voice and Zosina said quickly,

“A masked ball sounds thrilling. Does it take place here in the Palace?”

“Good God, no!” the King replied. “It’s for the people not for us. We are supposed to sit on our gilded thrones, taking no part in it.”

“How disappointing,” Zosina sighed. “I have never been to a masked ball, but I have heard of them and it must be fun not to know whether you are dancing with a Count or a candlestick maker, a King or a chimney sweep!”

As she spoke, she hoped that what she said would make him laugh, but he turned to look at her with what she thought was a different expression from the one he had used before.

“Are you suggesting that I should go to the ball?” he enquired.

“I may be wrong, Sire, but I have a – feeling you have been to – one already,” Zosina replied.

He stared at her, as if he was not quite certain how to take her reply. Then he said,

“You are trying to trap me. I am not going to answer that question.”

“Of course I am not trying to trap you,” Zosina answered. “If I was King, I would certainly go to a masked ball, if I had the chance.”

He did not reply and after a moment she added,

“Now I think of it, in history Kings have always gone about their countries in disguise. Francois I, for instance, used to go out every night, wandering round the town to mix with – his subjects.”

She was going to say, ‘to mix with beautiful women,’ which was what she remembered she had read in a somewhat racy French biography.

Then she thought to say such a thing would not only be indiscreet but perhaps somewhat improper.

“Who was Francois I?” the King asked.

“He was the King of France, Sire, in 1515.”

“I have never heard of him, but he obviously had the right ideas.”

“Are you interested in history?”

“No, I am not!” the King replied. “I found it extremely dull and boring, but then I was never told anything interesting about the Kings and certainly not the sort of anecdote you have just mentioned.”

“One is not taught personal details about Royalty,” Zosina replied. “One has to find it out in books.”

“I have no time to read,” the King said firmly.

They lapsed into silence and Zosina thought he was certainly very difficult. Perhaps the only person who could have coped with him would have been Katalin.

She would chatter on regardless of whether anybody answered her or not and always seemed able to find a new subject.

With almost a sigh of relief, she saw the Queen Mother turn from the Prime Minister to speak to the King.

Almost as if she was unable to prevent herself, Zosina turned back to the Regent.

“Do tell me about the gentleman with the huge moustache,” she pleaded.

She saw the Regent’s eyes were twinkling as he began the life story of the gentleman who she learned was one of the most redoubtable Generals in the Dórsian Army.

Afterwards, when the ladies withdrew to one of the exquisite salons, Zosina found herself sitting next to one of the King’s aunts, who she soon found was an irrepressible gossip.

The Princess chatted away about other members of the family, relating some of the most intimate details of their lives which Zosina was sure that the Regent would not have told her. “The woman with the dyed red hair is my cousin Lillie,” she said. “She was very pretty ten years ago, but now she is married to a terrible bore. What is more, he is deaf and everything has to be repeated three times. It also makes him shout, until in his presence I feel I am permanently standing in a barrack square!”

Zosina laughed, then the Princess said in a low voice,

“And what, dear child, do you think of my nephew Gyórgy?”

It was a question which Zosina was not expecting and for a moment she found it difficult to find words in which to reply.

Then, because she knew that the Princess was waiting, she said,

“I did not – expect His Majesty to be so – dark-haired.”

The Princess raised her eyebrows.

“Has no one told you that his mother was Albanian?”

“No,” Zosina answered.

“Oh dear, I see you have a lot to learn,” the Princess said. “My brother, the late King, who was the eldest of eight children, had unfortunately four daughters by his first marriage.”

“Like Papa!” Zosina remarked. “Exactly!” the Princess replied. “And very disagreeable it made him.”

Zosina was about to say again, ‘just like Papa’, but thought it would be indiscreet. “When the Queen died,” the Princess went on, “as you can imagine, it annoyed the Prime Minister and the Councillors when my brother announced that he intended to marry an Albanian Princess who none of us had ever heard of.”

“It must have been a surprise!” Zosina murmured.

“It certainly was, especially as we had always thought the Albanians to be a strange people, many of them being nothing but gypsies!”

There was so much disparagement in the Princess’s voice that Zosina looked at her in surprise. “However, my brother the King achieved what he had thought was an impossibility, when his second Queen produced a son and heir.”

“He must have been very pleased,” Zosina said. As she spoke, she thought how thrilled her father would be if only he had a son to inherit the throne. “You can understand,” the Princess continued, “that Gyórgy has naturally been very spoilt all his life. My brother doted on him until the day of his death and his mother, in my opinion, spoilt him abominably.”

The fact that the King was half Albanian, Zosina thought, accounted for his dark hair and complexion and it might also be the reason for his wildness.

As if the Princess followed her thoughts, she said,

“You have to be very understanding, dear, and gain Gyórgy’s confidence. I believe, as does dear Sándor, that if he will settle down and assume his responsibilities he will make a good King.”

At the mention of the Regent, Zosina said what had surprised her since she first arrived,

“I expected His Royal Highness to be much – older.”

The Princess smiled.

“It does seem strange, as he is Gyórgy’s uncle. But Sándor was the youngest of my father’s large family of eight children and my only other brother, and, of course, until Gyórgy arrived, we always expected he would be the next King of Dórsia.”

Zosina wanted to ask if he had been very disappointed at finding himself no longer the heir, but then she thought it would be a tactless question.

“All I can say,” the princess said, “is that you are not only very lovely, my dear, but exactly the sort of person we hoped you would be.”

“Thank – you,” Zosina replied, suddenly feeling shy. Then, before it was possible to say any more, the gentlemen came into the room.

*

The following day there were deputations of people calling on the Queen Mother from first thing in the morning until they had to leave the Palace for the civic luncheon that was being given for her by the Mayor and Corporation of the City.

Once again they drove behind six white horses in the open carriage and now the crowds on either side of the roads seemed more enthusiastic than they had been on the day of their arrival.

The Queen Mother had sent a message to Zosina by one of her Ladies-in-Waiting early in the morning to say that she was wearing pale mauve.

She suggested that Zosina should wear a white gown trimmed with lace and a bonnet wreathed with white roses.

“I look very bridal,” Zosina remarked, as she joined the Queen Mother in her bedroom before they proceeded downstairs.

“That is what you will soon be,” her grandmother replied.

Her words sent a shiver through Zosina, who had almost forgotten in the excitement of all that had been happening that the disagreeable and argumentative King was to be her future husband.

Thinking over his behaviour last night after she had gone to bed, she told herself he was behaving like a rather rude schoolboy and it was difficult to think of him as a man.

She had always thought her husband would be somebody who would protect her and on whom she could rely, whose advice she would seek and who would direct her life in the way it should go.

She could not imagine finding any of these qualities in the King and she thought, if she had to spend a lifetime trying to talk to him, that in itself was a terrifying prospect, especially if he was going to be as disagreeable as he had been last night.

However, because she wanted to do what was required of her and behave in an exemplary manner, she tried to excuse him on the grounds that they were strangers.

But she could not escape from the conviction that he disliked the idea of being married and more especially disliked the bride who had been chosen for him.

In which case, she thought, surely it would be better if he waited until he was older?

Then she remembered that the whole reason she was here was that Lützelstein and Dórsia must be united if they were to oppose the growing power of Germany.

‘I wonder if anyone has explained that to him?’ she questioned, then was certain that the Regent would have done so.

‘Prince Sándor is clever,’ she thought, ‘clever and well read. At least
he
will be there for me to talk to.’

Then she wondered what happened when a Regent relinquished his post.

Did he retire into obscurity or was another position found for him in the Government?

It was a question to which she did not know the answer and she had a feeling it would be difficult to know who to ask.

The King was looking sulky and bored all the way to the Guildhall where they were to be entertained.

He made no effort to speak either to the Queen Mother or to anyone else and Zosina, waving to the crowds who were obviously excited by her appearance, told herself that the only thing to do was to ignore him.

‘He puts a damper on everything!’ she thought. ‘I cannot think, as this is his own country, why he does not enjoy seeing his people so pleased and excited.’

To her relief, when she reached the Guildhall, she found that she was not sitting beside the King, but had the Prime Minister on her left and the Chancellor of the Exchequer on her right.

BOOK: Bride to the King
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