Free Blood Royal by Dornford Yates Page A

I said, with my hat in my hand. “It’s better so. The less attention attracted, the fewer the questions asked.”
    “If you want another reason,” said George, “Chandos dislikes the limelight, until he has shaved.”
    The Grand Duchess smiled.
    “I expect you know best,” she said. “I don’t know how we happened to fall into such good hands. Goodbye – for the moment.”
    “So long,” said the Duke casually. “An’ many thanks. What do you want for this car?”
    “She’s not for sale,” said Hanbury.
    Then I nodded to Bell, and the Rolls slid forward.
    When the dust had settled, we walked down the road in its wake and presently came to the standpoint which, had we not been afoot, we should not have enjoyed.
    I have said that the town was below us, and so it was: but it was four miles distant, so that we had by no means a bird’s eye view. The air, however, was clear, as is the air of those parts, and the red and grey roofs and buildings stood out very sharp and pleasing, with the brilliant blue of the river cutting them across like a sash.
    We at once perceived the cathedral, thrusting two massive towers, and a building by the side of the river which must, we thought, be the palace, for there were trees about it and open space. Four bridges spanned the river, one of them covered and crooked and so, I suppose, very old, and far to the North we could make out a big parade-ground upon which we could see quite plainly the flash of steel.
    Here let me say what I should have set down before this – that the moment we came to the frontier we knew that the Prince was not dead, for the flags were mast-head high, and, though we asked no questions, it was everywhere perfectly plain that nothing unusual had occurred.
    At last I turned from the city and looked at George.
    “I should like to stay at Vigil,” I said. “The servants can go to Salzburg and fetch our things.”
    “Very well,” said George slowly. “I’ve only one thing against it, and that’s Duke Paul. Not that he’ll trouble us: he was plainly immensely relieved when we got out of the car. But I should like to forget him. Intercourse with that youth is like drinking a glass of cheap claret which is badly corked. Long live Prince Nicholas.”
    “I’m with you,” said I. “If the old fellow dies, we’ll leave Vigil the very next day.”
    “Once he’s proclaimed,” said George. “Did you promise to stay till then?”
    “Practically,” said I.
    George nodded approvingly.
    “She’s out of the top drawer,” he said. “I’d like to see her on Flattery, with scent breast high and the merchant making for Bulrush by way of The Dale. Why the devil is she backing this waster?”
    “You can search me,” said I, and meant it.
    For a little we smoked in silence, regarding the distant city, so gay in the sun.
    “I can’t understand it,” said George violently. “Of course she loathes him – that’s nothing. The girl he found in the chorus loathed the sound of his voice. He is – loathsome. Very well. Loathsome or not, she’s got to marry him. Why? Because she’s the obvious person to play the Princess. If you want another reason, she’s the head of the second line. She’s betrothed to the heir apparent, not to the man. She goes with the throne.”
    “I agree,” said I heartily.
    “Then why the blazes doesn’t she let him rip? Let him work out his own damnation and lose his throne ?”
    “And marry Johann?” said I.
    “Johann’s married,” said George. “I looked at the Almanach last night.”
    If her attitude troubled George, it confounded me.
    The girl had no wish to be Princess . She had said so before us all, and no one that heard her say it could doubt that she meant what she said. She detested the Duke . Upon her chastisement of him I lay no stress: a woman can dissemble her love. But spirits of her sort do not like spirits of his. The thought of becoming his wife must be plain horror.
    These two premises admitted,