“Nasty, foreign-looking chap,” he said. “Unshaven. Big dark fellow. Shabbily dressed. He put up a good fight too, when our lads brought him to the ground. Biting and snarling like some kind of wild animal, he was.”
Now I was even more confused. That didn’t sound like my dancing partner either.
Prince Otto had now come to join me. “Do not concern yourself, liebchen,” he said. “I am sure we are safe and all is well. Listen. The music has begun again. Shall we go and dance?”
I could hardly refuse as other couples were now making their way back to the ballroom. As we walked he said to me, “I have been thinking. You seem to be a pleasant young woman. It is true you are not a great beauty, but you look wholesome and healthy enough. If I really must marry, then I could do worse. It will stop the family from constantly reminding me of my duty.” Then to my horror he slipped his arm around my waist and drew me closer to him. “And you would have an agreeable life with me. Berlin is a delightful city with many amusements. And I would allow you much freedom. You would even be free to take a lover, providing you were discreet.”
“And you would be free to take a mistress?” I asked innocently.
He chuckled. “But of course. That is how it is done with our kind of people. But at least a marriage fits the bill, so to speak, doesn’t it? It cements family ties across Europe. It provides each of our countries with a valuable connection.” I was about to remind him that his grandfather the kaiser and our King George were first cousins but it hadn’t prevented the worst war the world had ever known. But I decided there was no point. Otto went on cheerfully, “Everyone would be happy.”
“Not me,” I said and was amazed at my bravery. “I wouldn’t be happy, Otto.”
He stopped and looked stunned. “You do not like me?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re very nice,” I said, “but I don’t know you. And I certainly don’t love you. When I marry, it will only be for love.”
He laughed. “You are still young and inexperienced. I understand this. When you grow older you will realize that marriage is only a formality, designed to keep wealth and power among the right families. And to produce an heir. Love does not come into this.”
“Well, it should,” I said. “I do not wish to spend my life with someone I don’t love, watching him sneak off to be with his mistresses. That’s not for me. I want to marry for love and live happily ever after.”
“Your trouble is that you have too much of your great-grandmother Queen Victoria in you,” he said.
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m proud to be like her. And until I find my Prince Albert, I shall remain fancy-free.”
“Your king and queen will not be pleased about this.”
“I think they’ll understand,” I said. “And if they don’t like it—I’m only a very minor member of the family. Of no consequence at all. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling very tired.”
I pulled away and gave him a polite sort of bow and went upstairs. I was feeling rather proud of myself by the time I located the room I had changed in and took off my costume. I had turned down my first real proposal. I had not let crowned heads of Europe push me around. I had stood up for what I believed in. I was not a child anymore. Before I fell asleep I conjured up the strong jaw and lovely smile of the man who’d danced with me, and I heard his voice in my head. And I wondered if I would ever see him again.
I awoke to the sun streaming in through long windows, and came downstairs to find guests at breakfast, still in their costumes. I didn’t feel like joining them and being jolly all over again. I found Lady Merriman and asked if I could be driven to the station.
“Are you not feeling well, my dear?” she asked. “You are looking pale. Too much champagne last night, maybe. Tell me, did you sleep alone?”
I blushed. “Of course.”
“I thought as much. Otto was in a bad mood. I gather you turned him down.”
I nodded. “I can’t agree to marry someone I’ve never met before.”
“I quite agree. And you’re far too young.” She patted my hand. “Travel the world. See life and then marry. That’s what I did and I am blissfully happy with my dear Podge.”
I tried to phrase the question in my head. “Tell me, Lady Merriman, was there another guest wearing a devil’s outfit last night?”
“Were you seeing double? All that champagne, honey. No, you two were the only devilish pair.”
And so I left, not knowing, believing I should never know the truth. When I arrived home that afternoon Harrison met me in the front hall and helped me off with my coat.
“Did you have a delightful time, my lady?” he asked.
“It was very grand,” I said. “All a little overwhelming.”
“I understand, my lady. Always better to be among one’s own kind, I think.”
I nodded.
“Their graces have gone out, so you have the house to yourself,” he went on. “Should I have some tea sent to the drawing room for you?”
“Thank you, that would be lovely.”
“And a note came for you, my lady. Delivered by hand earlier today.” He held out the salver to me and I took the letter, addressed in strong black script. To a fallen angel.
I rushed into the drawing room, sat by the fire and opened it.
My dear fallen angel,
I am sorry that I had to run off like that last night and we never had a chance to say good-bye. Maybe it’s better that way. Did you accept Prince Otto’s proposal? He told me he intended to propose.
I told you I was a gate-crasher and it was true. I was not on the guest list. I came only to do my friend Otto a favor. You see, there is a certain married woman of whom he is rather fond. She finds it hard to give her husband the slip, so I was brought in to be the decoy while they were dallying upstairs. I hope this doesn’t shock you too much. It’s the way of the world, I am afraid. Although I am sure that you will never dally. When you have made your choice, you will be faithful forever.
I wanted to say that I didn’t intend last night to be any more than harmless fun. I didn’t intend to have feelings for you. And since I am not in a position to offer you a palace or a crown, then it is better that we part this way. Still I hope our paths might cross some time in the future. You never know.
Your devil companion,
And under this was written three letters that looked like DOM.
And in the next day’s Times there was a small paragraph on page two:
Attack on German Prince Foiled.
An attack on visiting Prince Otto of Prussia by a bomb-wielding terrorist was thwarted by the gallant efforts of a young guest attending a ball at Broxley Manor. The young man in question wrestled the bomb away from the man, believed to be a communist agitator, and hurled it away from the building, where it exploded harmlessly. He then helped subdue the man but declined to give his name and disappeared when the man was taken off to the police station. It was hinted that he was actually working for British secret service and was assigned to guard the prince, although Whitehall has denied this allegation. Prince Otto was unhurt and returns home to Germany tomorrow.
And so I put the incident from my mind. I was never invited to Broxley Manor again and understood that Prince Otto finally married a cabaret singer from Berlin, much to the disapproval of his family. It never occurred to me that I would ever be involved with danger and acts of terrorism again, or that some day in the future it would be my own detecting skills that thwarted a similar plot against our own king and queen. And it was only several years later that I rediscovered that letter in bold black script and realized that the initials on it stood for Darcy O’Mara.