everyone to take their place.
"You'll be the third to go," the Duke told Ola. "Don't be afraid."
"I am not afraid," Ola said quietly.
"No, I don't think you are," he said, and his voice was warm. "You won't fail at the mouth of the lion's den."
She gave a wan smile. "There are worse lions' dens than this," she reminded him.
He nodded. For a moment his hand clasped hers.
Then he drew the ambassador away, leaving the debutantes and their sponsors preparing for their great moment.
Ola tried to concentrate on what she was doing, but all she could think of was the feel of his hand on hers.
Then it was her turn. The double doors were thrown open, revealing the crowded throne room beyond. Lady Cadwick and Ola moved into the doorway, where Lady Cadwick handed a card to the lord in waiting, who read aloud,
"Her Royal Highness, Princess Ola of Oltenitza."
Did she imagine it, or was there a hum of surprise?
Then she was moving forward towards the end of the room where the Queen stood waiting. Suddenly she could see everything with brilliant clarity, including the Duke and the ambassador, standing near the throne, their eyes fixed on her.
Slowly, steadily she advanced until she reached the point at which she should curtsey. A presentation curtsey was like no other. It must be very deep, down on one knee to the floor, where it must be held for almost a minute.
Then, rise and advance. Other debutantes kissed the Queen's hands, but as 'royalty' Ola was exempt. Instead Victoria leaned towards her and kissed her forehead.
She was smiling, very slightly, and her lips moved to murmur, "Well done."
Now the most difficult part. She rose and stepped back, reached behind her and gathered up her train. Slowly she retreated along the crimson carpet, until the doors swallowed her up again.
At last she could let out her breath in relief.
"You did splendidly," said the kindly Lady Cadwick.
Before Ola could leave, the ambassador came to find her and thank her again.
"My gratitude," he said. "You were very convincing,
and there were several people there who were astonished."
"I hope I may have done some good," she said. "Is there any news from your country?"
He shook his head sadly.
"I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow," he said.
"Tomorrow?" Ola asked, puzzled.
"Tomorrow night there's a dinner in Buckingham Palace for visiting royalty and ambassadors," the Duke explained. "Afterwards there is a ball."
"Your presence at both will be very helpful," the ambassador said. "My friend here, the Duke of Camborne, will escort you. So you will be all right. He will take good care of you."
"Yes," said Ola in a colourless voice. "I know he will take care of me."
The Duke drew her aside.
"Return to your hotel," he said, "and have something to eat. This afternoon I shall take you out for a drive in the carriage. It's important that you should be seen in public. Please be ready at three o'clock."
"What about Greta? Surely my lady-in-waiting should accompany me."
"I hardly think – "
"She doesn't like being left alone in the hotel. After what happened last time, she's frightened."
"But surely she's not alone there now?"
"No, one of Lady Cadwick's maids is with her. I should much prefer that she comes too."
He looked at her sadly for a moment.
"There's no need for this, Ola."
"What did you call me?"
"I meant, of course, Your Royal Highness. It is quite unnecessary to take Greta with us."
"I wish her to come," Ola said firmly.
He gave a small bow.
"As Your Royal Highness pleases."
'It doesn't please me,' she thought. 'It breaks my heart. But what else can there be between us now?'
Lady Cadwick took her away for the journey back to the hotel. There she stood in the centre of her room while they all helped her to disrobe.
The ostrich feathers were removed, then the diamond tiara, then the magnificent gown, bearing the Grand Order of Oltenitza, First Class.
Gradually 'Princess Ola' was vanishing, leaving behind only
"You'll be the third to go," the Duke told Ola. "Don't be afraid."
"I am not afraid," Ola said quietly.
"No, I don't think you are," he said, and his voice was warm. "You won't fail at the mouth of the lion's den."
She gave a wan smile. "There are worse lions' dens than this," she reminded him.
He nodded. For a moment his hand clasped hers.
Then he drew the ambassador away, leaving the debutantes and their sponsors preparing for their great moment.
Ola tried to concentrate on what she was doing, but all she could think of was the feel of his hand on hers.
Then it was her turn. The double doors were thrown open, revealing the crowded throne room beyond. Lady Cadwick and Ola moved into the doorway, where Lady Cadwick handed a card to the lord in waiting, who read aloud,
"Her Royal Highness, Princess Ola of Oltenitza."
Did she imagine it, or was there a hum of surprise?
Then she was moving forward towards the end of the room where the Queen stood waiting. Suddenly she could see everything with brilliant clarity, including the Duke and the ambassador, standing near the throne, their eyes fixed on her.
Slowly, steadily she advanced until she reached the point at which she should curtsey. A presentation curtsey was like no other. It must be very deep, down on one knee to the floor, where it must be held for almost a minute.
Then, rise and advance. Other debutantes kissed the Queen's hands, but as 'royalty' Ola was exempt. Instead Victoria leaned towards her and kissed her forehead.
She was smiling, very slightly, and her lips moved to murmur, "Well done."
Now the most difficult part. She rose and stepped back, reached behind her and gathered up her train. Slowly she retreated along the crimson carpet, until the doors swallowed her up again.
At last she could let out her breath in relief.
"You did splendidly," said the kindly Lady Cadwick.
Before Ola could leave, the ambassador came to find her and thank her again.
"My gratitude," he said. "You were very convincing,
and there were several people there who were astonished."
"I hope I may have done some good," she said. "Is there any news from your country?"
He shook his head sadly.
"I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow," he said.
"Tomorrow?" Ola asked, puzzled.
"Tomorrow night there's a dinner in Buckingham Palace for visiting royalty and ambassadors," the Duke explained. "Afterwards there is a ball."
"Your presence at both will be very helpful," the ambassador said. "My friend here, the Duke of Camborne, will escort you. So you will be all right. He will take good care of you."
"Yes," said Ola in a colourless voice. "I know he will take care of me."
The Duke drew her aside.
"Return to your hotel," he said, "and have something to eat. This afternoon I shall take you out for a drive in the carriage. It's important that you should be seen in public. Please be ready at three o'clock."
"What about Greta? Surely my lady-in-waiting should accompany me."
"I hardly think – "
"She doesn't like being left alone in the hotel. After what happened last time, she's frightened."
"But surely she's not alone there now?"
"No, one of Lady Cadwick's maids is with her. I should much prefer that she comes too."
He looked at her sadly for a moment.
"There's no need for this, Ola."
"What did you call me?"
"I meant, of course, Your Royal Highness. It is quite unnecessary to take Greta with us."
"I wish her to come," Ola said firmly.
He gave a small bow.
"As Your Royal Highness pleases."
'It doesn't please me,' she thought. 'It breaks my heart. But what else can there be between us now?'
Lady Cadwick took her away for the journey back to the hotel. There she stood in the centre of her room while they all helped her to disrobe.
The ostrich feathers were removed, then the diamond tiara, then the magnificent gown, bearing the Grand Order of Oltenitza, First Class.
Gradually 'Princess Ola' was vanishing, leaving behind only
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