Free The Breadth of Heaven by Rosemary Pollock Page A

and—”
    “And you are young, and English, and a little timid, and you are not accustomed to being in a position of authority, I think.” He gave her another long look, and then stood up and stubbed out his cigarette. “To me, Natalia is a child ... sweet-tempered, easily guided. I had not realized that she could appear differently to someone like you.”
    Before he could prevent her, Kathy slipped her feet to the ground and stood up. “Your Highness,” she said with sudden firmness, “I understand perfectly that you have to dismiss me. I’m sorry that—that I turned out to be so unsatisfactory. I did my best, but I’m simply not the right sort of person for the job. And now I really would like to go to bed, if you don’t mind.”
    “Naturally I don’t mind. But I don’t wish to dismiss you.”
    She looked up at him in astonishment. “You don’t? Bu t ...”
    “I have other concerns,” he said rather wearily. For the first time she noticed the strain in his eyes, the lines of fatigue about his firm mouth. “My sister-in-law likes you,” he went on, “and she trusts you. At least she is happier now that you are with her. I was entirely wrong to blame you for what happened this afternoon ... you could not have prevented it. Early tomorrow morning—no, later today,” glancing at his watch, “I shall be leaving for Tirhania, but the Princess and her children will be staying here, and I shall feel happier if you stay with them.”
    Amazed, she murmured: “Thank you, Your Highness.”
    “Your hostess here is Signora Albinhieri ... who is my godmother, and has a fondness for all my family. You will find her very kind.”
    “I think I have already met her.”
    “Good.” He came closer and stood looking down at her, studying the violet eyes, dark with exhaustion, and the little smudgy shadows beneath them. “You are all right now, Miss Grant? You will not faint again?”
    She did feel a little dazed, but she shook her head valiantly. “No, of course not, Your Highness. I don’t know why I fainted this evening—I’ve never done such a thing in my life before.”
    “But you were so very tired.” He smiled at her, and it was the charming smile she remembered. “And now you must certainly go to bed, but before I ring for the maid I have two more things to say to you.”
    “Yes?” Her eyes were frankly sleepy.
    “First I do not like to call you Miss Grant. What is your first name ... I mean, your Christian name?” “Kathy,” she said automatically.
    “Then you are ... Katherine, are you not?” \
    “Yes.”
    “With your permission, I will call you Katherine.”
    “Of course, if you wish to, Your Highness.”
    “And the second thing I have to say to you is that to you I am not ‘Your Highness.’ So many times this evening you have said it, but I am not a person in an operetta, and if you please you will merely address me as ‘ monsieur . ’ ”
    “Yes ... yes, monsieur .”
    “Thank you, and now I will ring for the maid, and carry you to your room, for you will not, I think, be able to walk so far.”
    She gasped, and uttered a small protest, but he ignored it, and when the maid Rosa appeared in almost immediate response to the summons of the bell he picked Kathy up, and disregarding her rather feeble assurances that she was perfectly capable of walking, bore her lightly along the corridors to her own room. Once there, he set her down, and spoke to the maid in Italian. Then he turned back to Kathy, and accorded her a slight bow.
    “Goodbye, Katherine. In a few days we shall meet again. In the meantime, I trust you!”
    “Thank you, monsieur .”
    The maid, obviously acting on instructions, wanted to remain and assist her into bed, but Kathy refused to let her, and in fact was relieved when the door closed on Rosa, and at last she was alone. The small suitcase which she had brought with her from Paris had been brought up and placed at the foot of the bed, and it didn’t take her long