Bewitched (Bantam Series No. 16) by Barbara Cartland Page B

Salon.
    There were only three for dinner—Sir Algernon Gibbon, Charles Collington and the Marquis.
    The Chef had excelled himself, and the wine served with every course was superlative. The Gentlemen lingered over their Port in the Dining-Room for a while and then repaired to the Salon.
    They had not been there long before Bush came across the room to say in a low voice to the Marquis:
    “There has been a slight accident to a lady’s coach, M’Lord. Apparently the leading horse broke its rein. The grooms say they can have it repaired within half of an hour. I thought Your Lordship should know that the lady is outside.”
    “Then of course she must not wait there,” the Marquis said. “Invite her in, Bush.”
    “Very good, M’Lord.”
    As the Butler left the room the Marquis turned to his friends and remarked:
    “It appears we have company. I wonder if it is anyone we know.”
    “It is extremely annoying when a leading horse breaks its rein and one cannot control it,” Charles Collington said. “It happened once to me on the way back from Brighton. I damned nearly had an accident.”
    Before anyone could reply, the door opened and Bush said in an impressive tone:
    “Her Highness, Princess Kotovski, M’Lord.”
    The three gentlemen looked round to see a very elegant figure enter the room.
    The lady had obviously discarded her wraps and was attired in a dazzling evening gown of emerald green silk ornamented with tulle, caught with satin bows.
    The new tight waist had just been re-introduced into London and there was no doubt that as she advanced towards them down the Salon she had the most exquisite figure.
    Her face was even more arresting. She had black hair, with blue lights in it in the very latest fashion on top of her head, and her lovely eyes seemed very large in her oval face.
    There was a necklace of emeralds from the Ruckley collection round her neck, and the same stones glittered in her small ears and in a bracelet which was clasped over her long kid-gloves.
    The Marquis advanced to greet her.
    “May I welcome you, Highness, to my house? I am the Marquis of Ruckley and deeply regret that you should have had an accident on the high road.”
    “I was fortunate in that I was just passing your gates,” the newcomer replied in a musical voice, with a fascinating foreign accent. “Your grooms have been most obliging, My Lord, and I am extremely grateful.”
    “I am delighted we can be of service,” the Marquis replied. “You are in fact, Ma’am, relieving the monotony of a bachelor party. Allow me to introduce my friends—Sir Algernon Gibbon and Captain Charles Collington.”
    The lady dropped two extremely graceful curtsies and, having been seated on the damask sofa in front of the fire, accepted a glass of wine.
    The Marquis offered her dinner, but she declared that she had already dined before she left Brochet Hall where she had been staying.
    “Is your Highness proceeding to London?” Sir Algernon enquired.
    The Princess smiled at him.
    “My husband has just been appointed to the Russian Embassy,” she replied. “It will be my first visit to your famous capital and I am looking forward to it enormously.”
    “We must make sure you enjoy yourself, Ma’am” Captain Collington said. “I am sure you will, as the parties at the Russian Embassy are the gayest and most amusing given by the whole Diplomatic Corps.”
    “That is true,” Sir Algernon agreed, “but then no country in the world can entertain better or more lavishly than your countrymen, Ma’am.”
    “I am glad to hear you say that,” the Princess replied.
    “I remember when I was in Russia,” Sir Algernon went on, “being astonished at the magnificence of their hospitality.”
    “You have been to Russia?” the Marquis exclaimed. “I had no idea of that.”
    “It was a long time ago,” Sir Algernon replied. “In the last year of the last century. I was but twenty at the time and doing a grand tour of the countries in