The Power and the Prince

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1878-1

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1878Lady Odele Ashford settled comfortably in a private carriage attached to the mainline train and thought with satisfaction that she would soon be reaching the Halt near Charl Castle.

Exceedingly lovely in her sables and a travelling gown that was very elegant, as she stared out the window she looked exactly like her photographs, which appeared in many shop windows and proclaimed her one of the great beauties of the period.

She was looking particularly attractive at the moment because she was thinking of what lay ahead of her and that she would see Prince Ivan again and undoubtedly, for a few hours at any rate, alone.

His letter had been explicit when he had asked her to come to Charl Castle early before the rest of his house party arrived.

When she thought of his handsome face, his dark passionate eyes and his slim athletic body, Lady Odele fancied that her heart beat more quickly and she was conscious of some new sensations in her mind and body.

She told herself that it was a long time since she had had a lover so attractive, so eloquent in his lovemaking and above all so rich.

Even among the very wealthy members of Society who clustered around the Prince of Wales at Marlborough House, the fortune of Prince Ivan was greater, Lady Odele had heard her husband say, than that of all the rest of them put together.

The fact that he had singled her out of all the numerous beautiful women who pursued him relentlessly made it seem all the more flattering.

Prince Ivan in inviting her to stay this particular week at Charl Castle had chosen his moment well.

He would not have been unaware that Edward Ashford, whose only real love was horses, would be racing at Doncaster and, although there was every likelihood of his joining his wife when the Races were over, she would be on her own for at least two days perhaps three.

What was there about Prince Ivan, Lady Odele asked herself, that made him so irresistible and much more intriguing than all the good-looking Englishmen whom she met night after night at Marlborough House and in all the great houses up and down the country where parties were continually being held for the Prince of Wales?

She supposed that it was partly his Russian ancestry, even though he was half-English, but Lady Odele considered it was much more than that.

The Prince was so intelligent that, she was told, even the most distinguished Statesmen bowed to his superior knowledge when it came to Politics.

He was also listened to with respect on many other subjects when the men sat round the dining room table enjoying their port after the ladies had left the room.

That he was an outstanding rider and that his judgement of horseflesh kept him winning all the Classic Races, to the envy of her infuriated husband and other members of the Jockey Club, went without saying.

Besides all that, there was, she decided, something mysterious about him, something that women found intriguing and to which they searched for the key, only to be disappointed.

But whatever it might be, Lady Odele told herself that she was looking forward with an almost girlish excitement to arriving at Charl.

The train was slowing down and now she could see the Halt, where there was a notice reading,

“CHARL CASTLE ONLY”

Waiting, as she expected, were the Prince’s servants in their distinctive livery and the Prince’s private secretary in a bowler hat.

There was a red carpet laid along the platform and Lady Odele knew that outside would be waiting an extremely comfortable carriage drawn by four magnificent horses, which would carry her to The Castle at a speed that would leave most people breathless.

The train stopped but she made no attempt to move until the door was opened and she saw the Prince’s secretary bowing to her, hat in hand, and her lady’s maid had emerged from the next carriage and was waiting with her sable muff.

With a smile that Lady Odele used automatically to enslave every man and woman she bestowed it on, she stepped out onto the platform.

“Welcome to Charl, my Lady,” Mr. Brothwick, the Prince’s secretary greeted her.

“Thank you,” Lady Odele replied and with the grace of a swan moved along the red carpet towards the entrance of the Halt.

She was well aware that all the windows in the train were filled with faces eager to see one of the renowned beauties of England.

Because she never disappointed what she secretly called ‘her public’, she turned round deliberately to speak to her maid, who was following behind her, so that those watching would have a glimpse of her fabulous pink-and-white skin, her blue eyes and her golden hair.

“You have not forgotten my jewel case, Robinson?”

It was quite an unnecessary question as Robinson was holding it tightly with both hands.

“No, my Lady.”

Lady Odele glanced at the train as if she had never seen it before, and thought that she could almost hear the ‘ooh’s’ and ‘aah’s’ of admiration her movement evoked.

Then she turned to leave the Halt and was helped into the luxurious carriage that was waiting for her.

It was only two miles to Charl Castle and Lady Odele did not trouble to bend forward, as new visitors to the great Castle always did, as it appeared standing above the valley, its hundreds of windows flashing in the sunlight and its great tower surmounted with a flag.

Lady Odele had actually known Charl Castle for many years.

Because she was fond of Lord Charlwood, whose family it had belonged to for four centuries, she had been glad for his sake when Prince Ivan had bought it from him and proceeded to spend a fortune on redecorating the interior.

Although it must have been hard to part with a house that meant so much to the Charlwood family, the money the Prince had paid for it meant that the sixth Lord Charlwood and his wife could continue to live the gay social life they enjoyed without getting further and further into debt.

One of the largest houses in England, Charl Castle was, Lady Odele thought, a perfect setting for Prince Ivan and she had wondered in the past why, when he spent so much time in the country where his mother had been born, he did not have a house of his own here.

It was true that he owned houses all over Europe, a Palazzo in Venice, a Château in France, a Shooting Lodge in Hungary and a Villa in Monte Carlo, where Lady Odele had already determined that she must be a guest next spring.

But first she knew was that Prince Ivan was planning several large scale pheasant shoots at Charl Castle to amuse the Prince of Wales, where he could also hunt with two of the best packs in the Midlands.

She was sure too that there would be numerous large and small balls in the great ballroom where she would shine like a glittering star.

Lady Odele was so intent on her thoughts that she was almost surprised when she realised that the carriage was already turning in to the great gravel sweep that lay in front of Charl Castle.

She had a quick glance at herself in a little mirror that she carried in her handbag and saw that her nose needed no more powder and her lips were as red as they dared to be.

She was aware that she exuded an exotic French perfume every time she moved and the huge spray of purple orchids, which had been waiting for her in the carriage when she arrived at King’s Cross Station looked very elegant pinned to her many-tailed sable wrap.

There were six footmen waiting on the steps as she proceeded up them and the butler, looking like a pontifical Archbishop, was waiting in the hall.

“Welcome back to Charl, my Lady,” he said with the same tone of sincerity that Mr. Brothwick had used.

“Thank you,” Newton, Lady Odele replied. “It is delightful to be back again.”

“His Highness is waiting for you in the Blue Salon, my Lady.”

Lady Odele smiled secretly to herself.

She knew that the Blue Salon, which was one of the smaller rooms at Charl Castle, was part of the Prince’s private apartments and no guests ever encroached on it unless specially invited.

As she moved, she was conscious of the silk petticoats of her bustle rustling behind her and she was glad that, because it was still warm for the beginning of October, she had not been obliged to wear one of her thicker travelling gowns.

The thinner one she had on was made of a material that clung to her fabulous figure and was warm enough, as over it she wore her famous sables.

These had been given to her by a rich man who loved her passionately, but they did not compare in value to a stole and muff made of chinchilla that she had already determined should be one of the Prince’s gifts to her.

She reached the door of the Blue Salon and Newton announced with a flourish,

“Lady Odele Ashford, Your Highness.”

The Prince, who had been reading a newspaper, rose as she entered and now Lady Odele was quite certain that her heart was beating quicker than usual.

It was always the same when she saw the Prince again and she found that she had forgotten how handsome he was and how his dark eyes, which could glow with a passionate fire or appear cynical and slightly mocking, had that penetrating look that seemed to search into the innermost secrets of a woman’s soul.

“Ivan!”

The word was an exclamation of joy and he moved towards her with a grace that was untypical of Englishmen and lifted her hand to his lips.

He kissed her glove conventionally, then with his eyes holding hers captive he drew the soft suede from her hand and kissed her palm.

She felt herself quiver at the warm insistence of his lips. He drew her across the room to the sofa by the fire and sat down beside her.

“How are you? You have had a comfortable journey?” he asked. “You were properly looked after?”

His voice was deep and seductive and, as he spoke, his eyes flickered over her, taking in every detail, Lady Odele thought, of her face, her gown and the orchids that he had given her.

“Everything was perfect, as it always is when you have arranged it.”

“You look very lovely.”

That was what she wanted him to say and she smiled at him beguilingly.

He sat looking at her.

Part of his fascination, she thought, was that he was unlike any other man who by this time would have been fondling and kissing her.

He was controlled and the very waiting for his favours made them, when they came, more exciting.

“Why did you want me to arrive before the rest of the party?”

She told herself that she really should wait until he chose his own time to tell her why. At the same time she was extremely curious and she could not prevent herself from asking the obvious question.

“You know that I wanted to see you,” Prince Ivan replied.

Lady Odele gave a little sigh of satisfaction.

“We have at least two days and even then Edward may find something on four legs more amusing than joining me!”

The Prince laughed.

“Then we will be very happy together and I have planned many amusements for my guests while, as you well know, the one thing that will amuse me will be you.”

“Dear Ivan.” Lady Odele purred caressingly. “That is what I wanted you to say.”

“I expect you would like to change after your journey. We will have tea in here and afterwards I want to talk to you.”

Lady Odele raised her eyebrows.

“Talk?”

“After tea.”

He rose as he spoke and Lady Odele knew that there would be no use asking him questions and no use doing anything but exactly what he wished.”

It was undoubtedly one of his strange holds over women that he commanded and they obeyed. He knew exactly what he wanted and did not allow his plans to be changed by anyone.

He took her to the door. Outside the Groom-of-the-Chambers was waiting and Lady Odele found herself being escorted to her bedroom, where already her maid was unpacking the trunks that had been carried upstairs.