Pride and the Poor Princess

Chapter One 1924-2

But he was too tactful to say so aloud and he had the feeling now that the Duke was resenting Dolly’s determination to make him pay for more spoils in Constantinople than were really justified by their relationship.

“You cannot put the clock back, Buck,” he said aloud, “and I think you will find that, when the country has settled down, there will be things to do that you will find interesting.”

“It is six years since the war ended,” the Duke replied, “and everything still seems chaotic.”

“It is bound to be,” Harry said. “With a million men killed and far too many unemployed, our factories out of date, and without enough export orders to get production going again, things are bound to be difficult.”

“I am fed up with politics,” the Duke said in a disagreeable voice.

He felt like this because the politicians would not listen to him and there was no definite part for him to play in the rehabilitation of the country.

Because he wished to change the subject, Harry remarked,

“I shall be interested to see what is happening in Turkey. I have always thought that, while it is one thing to dispose of the Sultan, it is another to abolish the Office and all that it administered.”

The Duke knew that he was speaking sense.

Mustafa Kemal, the military genius who was trying to create the Republic of Turkey, had realised that the Sultanate could not be allowed to continue, but it was going to be difficult to find sensible alternative to put in its place.

The Sultan himself, in the company of a few eunuchs and personal servants, his jewels packed away in heavy trunks, had slipped out of the Yildiz Kiosk on a bleak November day and boarded a British battleship, which had taken him to Malta.

But he had not taken the problems of Turkey with him and there were still many other drastic changes to be made in the Constitution.

It was a subject that Harry was longing to talk about, but the Duke was lying back in his chair in somewhat gloomy silence and he thought it would be wise to speak of other matters.

“By the way,” he said, “the Captain tells me that he has been warned that we should be careful of what we eat if at any port we go ashore. In fact it sounds as if we would be wise to stay for meals anyway on the yacht.”

“I had no intention of doing anything else!” the Duke snapped. “And, if Dolly thinks that I am going to trail around that labyrinth of bazaars looking for jewels, which I very much doubt will even exist, she will be mistaken!”

“She will be disappointed,” Harry said with a smile.

He had the feeling that the Duke shrugged his shoulders and thought that Dolly was letting her greed override her better judgement.

He thought that perhaps he should warn her and then wondered why he should bother.

He had seen the Duke pass through many love affairs and one thing was inevitable, sooner or later they ended and, as soon as one woman slipped out of his life, she was replaced by another.

Then, as if thinking of her made her appear like a genie obeying the call of the Master, Dolly came bursting into the Saloon.

She was looking extremely attractive in an expensive fur coat, which was a present from the Duke, with a little hat of the same fur worn over her fair hair that was fluffed fashionably out at the sides.

Her lips were a provocative crimson, her skin almost dazzlingly pink-and-white and her blue eyes seemed to echo the sky.

“Buck!” she exclaimed, as she entered like a breeze blowing from the snows of Russia. “I have been waiting for you! Do come and look at the City! It’s too, too entrancing!”

It was fashionable to talk in an exaggerated manner about everything and Dolly was the epitome of fashion.

“It’s too cold!” the Duke replied. “I cannot think why we did not stay in Monte Carlo, at least it was warmer there.”

“But not half so fascinating!” Dolly said, “and I understand that we can now visit the Sultan’s palace and even see the Harem!”

She gave a little laugh and sat down on the arm of the Duke’s chair to say,

“It is bad luck for you that there are no alluring houris there, but it would be amusing to see where they once were incarcerated. I wonder what they did that made them so attractive.”

“There are no prizes for the answer to that question,” Harry laughed.

“I am not sure,” Dolly said, “George has been reading books about Constantinople and he says that every newcomer to the Harem had to pass through a ‘School of Love’ before the Sultan saw her. I want to know what she learned.”

“I doubt if you would find it very amusing,” the Duke said in a cold voice, “and the penalty for failure was to have your feet weighed with lead and to be thrown into the Bosphorus by attendants kept for that special purpose!”

“Is that what you intend to do when you are bored with me?” Dolly asked. “As I cannot swim, you would not even have to put weights on my feet – just push me overboard!”

She spoke as though she expected the Duke to protest that it was something that would never happen.

Instead he commented,

“It’s certainly a good way of disposing of things that are no longer wanted on the voyage!”

“I think you are being beastly to me,” Dolly protested, “and I have no wish to stay here talking. I want to see the minarets and domes and, if you will not tell me which Mosque they belong to, then I shall have to find somebody who will!”

Again she spoke provocatively, but the Duke did not rise to the bait.

“Ask the Captain. He knows these waters well and is actually a mine of information.”

Dolly pouted her red lips.

“You are being a teeny bit disagreeable, my pet, and I find it too, too damping, so I shall go back on deck. Come and join us when you feel more cheerful.”

She put her hand as she spoke into the Duke’s, but, as he did not seem very responsive, she stood up and walked across the Saloon, giving Harry Nuneaton a dazzling smile as she passed him.

There was no doubt that she was very lovely, but Harry thought as he always had done, that there was something lacking in Dolly – something that made her, despite her looks, a little ordinary when she should have been exceptional.

The Duke picked up the newspaper that was lying beside him on the floor and, because Harry sensed that he wished to be alone, he too left the Saloon and, putting on a heavy overcoat, he went on deck.

Dolly with Nancy and George Radstock was leaning over the rail looking at the Mosque of Suleiman the Magnificent with its four pointed minarets silhouetted against the skyline.

It was certainly a very lovely sight and the waters of the Golden Horn reflected the blue of the sky and shimmered in the sun.

At the same time it was cold and it was not surprising that Dolly and Nancy were snuggled into their fur coats and occasionally stamped their feet because their ankles in their silk stockings felt the chill wind.

“As soon as we dock, I want to go ashore,” Dolly said.

“It will be too late by then,” George Radstock replied. “You will have to wait until tomorrow. I cannot imagine the bazaars are very salutary places to be in after dark.”

“I suppose that is where we will find the jewels?” Dolly persisted.

“If there are any to be had, that is where they will be,” George Radstock replied, “but quite frankly, I think we are too late.”

“Too late?”

“The Revolution in Russia took place in 1917, seven years ago,” George explained, “and although obviously the aristocrats did not all leave at once, those who escaped from the Bolsheviks would, I reckon, have reached Constantinople two or three years later. So their jewels would all have been sold before now.”

“You are depressing me,” Dolly said crossly. “Several people in London told me that they had recently seen fantastic necklaces, tiaras and brooches for sale if only they had had enough money to buy them.”

“Well, if Buck is willing, that will not happen to you,” Harry said a little sarcastically.

“Of course he will buy me what I want,” Dolly replied quickly, a little too quickly.

“Be sure he buys the genuine article,” Harry cautioned. “Buck dislikes being taken for a mug.”

Dolly looked at him wide-eyed.

“Are you suggesting that there might be imitations for sale?”

“Why not? The Oriental craftsman is a very clever fellow. If he can palm you off with an emerald that is only a bit of green glass or a diamond which is really crystal, he will do so.”

“We must be careful, very very careful,” Dolly said with a note of concern in her voice. “Nothing would upset Buck more than if he was deceived by a fake!”

“If you take my advice,” Harry said, “you will go to a reputable jeweller. You may have to pay a bit more, but at least you would know you were buying the genuine article.”

Dolly gave a cry.

“But that would not be half as much fun as finding a real bargain that had once belonged to a Russian aristocrat on some cheap stall where the seller has no idea of its value.”

“What you are really saying,” Harry responded sharply, “is that you are trying to find jewellery that has been stolen from some wretched woman, who has been fleeing for her life and has had to sell it at a knock-down price to save herself from starvation.”

He spoke scathingly and Nancy Radstock gave a little cry of horror.

“Who wants to buy anything like that? I am sure it would be unlucky. They say jewels can portray the emotion of those who wear them, I would never, never want to wear anything that might bring me bad luck!”

“Nonsense!” Dolly said sharply. “Harry is only trying to frighten us. Personally diamonds, pearls and emeralds have always brought me good luck if only for the reason that Buck is ready to give them to me!”

“As you say, you are very very lucky to have him,” Nancy said, “so don’t risk it all by buying anything that might have an evil influence on you.”

“You are jealous, that’s what’s wrong with all of you,” Dolly declared. “Whatever you may say, I shall go looking for treasures in the bazaars and when I find them you will all have to eat your words!”

As Harry had anticipated, it was far too late by the time they docked for anyone to go ashore and Dolly wanted to play Mah-jong.

When the Duke refused to join the game, Harry sat down at the table knowing that Dolly would insist on playing for higher stakes than either he or George could afford.

The Duke went to the cabin that was his own special sanctum where he could escape from his guests and be alone.

The Siren was so large and so well planned that the party could have been far larger had not Dolly been determined to keep it intimate.

Now the Duke thought it was a mistake that they were so few. He wanted to talk to Harry, but that would have meant the others could not play Mah-Jong.

There were, however, more newspapers which he had not yet read waiting for him in the cabin and he sat down in one of the red leather armchairs.

He switched on the reading lamp that he had designed himself so that it remained at exactly the right angle however rough the sea might be.

He had just turned to the editorial in The Morning Post when a Steward came into the cabin.

“Excuse me, Your Grace. There’s a woman here who says she has a letter which she’ll only give personally into Your Grace’s own hands.”

The Duke looked up in surprise.

“Why did she say that?”

“I don’t know, Your Grace, but she refused to hand the letter over to anyone else and also says she won’t go away till Your Grace has received it.”

“Is this a new method of begging?” the Duke enquired.

“I don’t know, Your Grace? But I’ve been warned and warned what the beggars be like here.”

He paused for a moment before he added,

“The women speaks with an educated voice, Your Grace, but she’s poorly dressed and from what I’ve seen she could do with a square meal.”

The Duke was interested.