The Keys of Love by Barbara Cartland Page A

surroundings, forget the Duke, Romany and Lady Butterclere. Eyes closed, her body swaying, she seemed increasingly consumed by some deep and secret passion and her playing became inspired.
    The interval came and Henrietta’s hands dropped to her lap, but it was a moment or two before she was fully aware of the tumultuous applause.
    â€œBravo! Bravo!” cried the Prince of Wales.
    The orchestra was clearly a huge success.
    Champagne was brought to the dais for the players.
    Still in a daze, Henrietta accepted a glass. She took a sip and almost sneezed as the bubbles danced in her nose.
    â€œHarrie?” Eddie was hovering by her with a smile. “The Prince of Wales would like to be introduced to you.”
    â€œT-to me?” echoed Henrietta fearfully.
    â€œYes,” nodded Eddie. “He wants to meet us all, but he particularly asked for you .”
    â€œEddie, I c-can’t.”
    All confidence in her disguise had gone. Surely the Prince would recognise her under all the powder and paint?
    Eddie held out his hand.
    â€œI don’t know much about your English customs, but even I understand that no one refuses a Prince.”
    Henrietta blinked unhappily and then rose, taking Eddie’s arm and allowing herself to be led from the dais.
    â€œQuite a performer!” came a hearty voice.
    Henrietta glanced up at the Prince of Wales’s genial features and gave a small curtsy.
    â€œYour Royal Highness,” was all she could reply, her gaze roving to where the Duke was standing.
    The Prince was surveying her with interest, but not recognition.
    â€œThe effect upon the eye of your costume is so very American,” he commented.
    â€œOur exact intention, Your Royal Highness!” Eddie offered quickly.
    Henrietta curtsied again, aware now that the Duke kept turning to throw a still puzzled glance her way.
    â€œYou must be delighted to have discovered such a unique talent, Mr. Bragg,” the Prince was musing.
    â€œI am,” said Eddie, before adding with a theatrical sigh, “I fear, however, that I may lose her before long ”
    â€œNot, I hope, before you agree to come and play for me ?” demanded the Prince.
    Eddie hesitated, throwing at Henrietta a meaningful look, which she studiously avoided.
    She was not going to commit herself to playing for the Prince of Wales just to accommodate his ambitions!
    Eddie understood her silence.
    â€œI may not be able to persuade her to stay ”
    â€œPity, pity,” muttered the Prince. “Well, we’ll see, we’ll see.”
    He turned to his aide-de-camp and instructed him to take Eddie’s card.
    Henrietta imagined that she was now free to return to what she considered was the safety of the dais.
    She was uncomfortable at being on the floor, where anyone present might scrutinise her at close quarters.
    As she gathered up her skirts and turned, however, she was arrested by the voice of the Duke.
    â€œDo you need your pianist for the next number?” she heard him ask Eddie.
    She could see Eddie give a nonchalant shrug.
    â€œI reckon I can do without Miss Reed for a melody or two,” he responded with a knowing smile.
    The Duke turned to Henrietta.
    â€œThen, madam, I trust that you will agree to offer me the next dance?”
    Henrietta was confused beyond measure.
    What sort of game was the Duke playing now?
    It was one thing for the Prince to address himself to the members of the orchestra. Surely it was quite another for the host to lead the piano player particularly one who resembled nothing so much as a tawdry showgirl out on to the floor?
    She cast frantic glances about her. For once she hoped for the intervention of Lady Butterclere, who would surely not countenance the Duke in this request. But she and Romany Foss were trailing in the wake of the Prince’s retinue, eager for the least crumb of Royal attention.
    Eddie leaped back onto the dais and lifted his baton as Henrietta gazed