The Lovelight of Apollo. Barbara Cartland

Vicar laughed and then closed the door behind them

      Mrs. Grandell then said politely in Greek,

      “Would Your Royal Highness like to sit in the sunshine or would you find it cooler on the sofa?”

      She indicated a sofa near the fireplace and the Princess moved towards it.

      When she had sat down, she said in a low voice,

      “I have come to ask you for your help, Mrs. Grandell, and please do help me, because it is very very important for me.”

      Mrs. Grandell, who was, the Princess decided, a beautiful woman with an unmistakable dignity about her, responded in surprise,

      “Of course! I should be delighted to help Your Royal Highness, if it is at all possible.”

      As if she thought that she might be intruding, Avila began to walk towards the door.

      “No, no, please stop,” Princess Marigold urged her. “I want you to hear what I have to say because it concerns you.”

      Avila looked a little bewildered, but she sat down in a chair beside her mother’s.

      Quickly, because she felt that she might not have too much time left before the Vicar returned, Princess Marigold then told Mrs. Grandell how she had fallen in love with Prince Holden.

      She explained how on the very day that their engagement was to have been announced, they had been plunged into mourning.

      “I will be frank with you,” she said, “and explain that I am terrified, because Her Majesty the Queen wants me to marry someone very important, that she will use any excuse to try to separate us.”

      Mrs. Grandell was listening with an astonished expression in her eyes.

      “But, surely ‒ ?” she began.

      “Allow me to finish please,” the Princess interrupted. “You may have heard of Prince Eumenus of Malia, who has just died. He is to be buried in Athens and his body is being embalmed in order to give the prestigious people of Europe time to attend the Ceremony.”

      Princess Marigold had been watching Mrs. Grandell as she spoke.

      She thought that there was a flicker in her eyes which told her that she knew who Prince Eumenus was.

      “Malia is, I believe, only a small island, but Queen Victoria has decided I must represent her at the funeral of this Prince.”

      “Surely,” Mrs. Grandell said a little tentatively, “Her Majesty could find someone older than Your Royal Highness for what is inevitably a somewhat gloomy occasion?”

      “She could, but she will not,” Princess Marigold replied, “simply because she wishes to separate me from Prince Holden.”

      She clasped her hands together as she went on,

      “But I have fallen in love. I love him so much, Mrs. Grandell, as only you who are Greek can understand. If we are separated, as Her Majesty is trying to do, I think it would kill me!”

      She was speaking from her heart. Her voice seemed to vibrate across the small room.

      “I understand what you are feeling,” Mrs. Grandell said quietly, “but I don’t know how I can help you.”

      “What I am asking,” Princess Marigold said, “is if your daughter Avila will go to Athens for the funeral in my place.”

      Mrs. Grandell stared at the Princess as if she could not believe what she was hearing.

      Avila gave a little cry.

      “Are you suggesting, ma’am, that I could go to Greece?” she asked. “It is something I have always longed to do ever since I was a small child.”

      “I am asking you to impersonate me and go to Athens,” the Princess said, “and to see, despite the funeral Ceremony, as much of Greece as you can in the time available.”

      “This is the most wonderful thing that could possibly happen to me!” Avila cried.

      Mrs. Grandell seemed at last to find her voice.

      “Are you really serious, ma’am?” she enquired. “I can hardly believe what Your Royal Highness is saying.”

      “I am saying that I am desperate! I know that, if I go to Greece and leave Prince Holden, Her Majesty will somehow or other prevent our marriage from taking place or at least delay it in some tricky way of her own.”

      She drew in her breath and then went on,

      “Please, please let Avila go instead of me. We look so alike that I am quite certain no one will have the slightest idea that she is not actually me.”

      Mrs. Grandell turned to look at her daughter and then back again at the Princess.

      “There is indeed a definite ‒ resemblance,” she admitted slowly.

      “If we were not side by side, no one would doubt for a moment that Avila is me,” the Princess said quickly. “I think that we must be related in some way, as so many Greeks are.”

      To her surprise Mrs. Grandell stiffened.

      “That, ma’am,” she said, “is something I would not wish to discuss. I admit that there is a resemblance, but I am sure that my husband would not allow Avila to act a lie.”

      “Then you must not tell him,” the Princess said. “As a Greek, you understand what I am feeling as no woman of any other nationality could. I can only beg you and plead with you to help me because this concerns my whole happiness, now and for the future.”

      “I don’t know what to say,” Mrs. Grandell murmured.

      She had not moved or fidgeted while the Princess was talking and now she clasped her hands together almost as if they helped her to control her feelings.

      “Oh, please, Mama, please!” Avila begged her. “Let me go to Greece! You know how thrilled I have been by the stories you have told me ever since I was a baby and the books we have read and the pictures we have found together.”

      She stopped for a moment before she went on,

      “I never thought I would be able to see the Parthenon or any of the islands that you have told me so many stories about. Please, Mama please! Let me do what Her Royal Highness asks.”

      Princess Marigold felt that the girl’s pleading was even more impressive than her own.

      Then, still speaking Greek, Mrs. Grandell asked,

      “Will you tell me, Your Royal Highness, how you think you can manage this deception without anyone being ‒ aware of it?”

      Princess Marigold felt her heart leap.

      “I will tell you what I have discussed so far with Prince Holden,” she said, “and, as he is a marvellous organiser, he will work out every detail so that there is not the slightest chance of our being discovered.”

      She saw that the Mrs. Grandell was still undecided and so she went on persuadingly,

      “You must tell your husband that Avila is coming to Greece with me, which is almost true. Tell him I am taking her with me because, having lived in. England for so long, I must practise my Greek and be certain that I don’t make any silly mistakes when I reach Athens.”

      She thought as she spoke that Mrs. Grandell thought that this sounded at least a possible idea.

      “It is quite true,” she continued, “there is nobody at Windsor Castle who I can converse with in Greek and I have in fact become rather rusty since my father and mother died. It was, of course, my father who taught me first when I was a child to speak in Greek.”

      “I am sure that Papa would think it a wonderful opportunity,” Avila persisted, “for me to go to Greece and be Your Royal Highness for a while.”

      “You will travel