Randolph's voice was low and fierce. “Dottie, I beg you not to say 'Blimey!”'
“What can I say?” she asked frantically.
“If you must express surprise, 'Goodness me!' would be appropriate.” There came a suppressed choke of laughter. “Dottie!”
“Well, I can't keep a straight face. I've never said 'Goodness me' in my life.”
“Then start saying it now.”
During this urgent, whispered conversation they had reached the canopied throne. Dottie turned to confront the people who had moved forward to crowd around the base of the steps, and she felt as well as saw their shock as they gained their first clear view of her face. There was a ripple of astonished recognition. Dorothea.
As before, Randolph made a speech presenting her, and signaled for her to take her place on the throne, while he remained standing. One by one her courtiers advanced and bowed or curtsied while Randolph introduced them. As he'd advised, she didn't try to take it all in, but one name stood out. Sophie Bekendorf.
The tall beauty came forward and looked up at Sophie. It was the same look, defiant, scornful, as she'd seen barely an hour before. And now she realized the full splendor of Sophie's looks. Her skin was pale porcelain, without blemish, her eyes large and dark, her features regular and her chestnut hair glossy. But it was her mouth that would draw everyone's attention, Dottie thought. It was petulant, willful and sensual, a mouth to make a man dream of kissing it, and then dream afterward of how the kiss had felt. How could Randolph not be in love with her? How could he ever love anyone else?
Everyone knew the story and was watching the meeting of the two women with interest, waiting for Sophie to curtsy. But she stayed motionless for so long that a thrilled whisper ran around the crowd. At the very last possible moment Sophie dropped the very smallest possible curtsy, and passed on, her head high.
If Sophie aroused Dottie's dislike, Sophie's brother made the hairs stand up on her spine. Dagbert was handsome, but everything he did seemed naturally insolent, so that the disagreeable effect was stronger than his good looks. He flicked his eyes over Dottie and gave a little dismissive smile. Indignant, she raised her chin and looked over his head.
At last the ceremony was over and she was free to start the walk back down the crimson carpet. When the gilt doors had closed behind her she let out a long breath of relief.
“You did excellently,” Randolph said. “You looked right and you had the perfect distant manner.”
It was modest enough praise, but she felt a small glow of satisfaction. She guessed Randolph wasn't a man who paid lavish compliments.
“I feel like a puppet whose strings have been suddenly let go. They don't like me.”
“They were all very impressed by you.”
“Not Sophie Bekendorf and her brother. Did you see the way he looked at me? Like I was dirt?”
“Their position is…peculiar,” Randolph said awkwardly. “They too have had to adjust to circumstances.”
His tone warned Dottie to inquire no further. As if to keep her off the sensitive subject he hurried on, “Tonight I thought you and Mike would like to see some of the sights. The city is beautiful by floodlight.”
So Mike wasn't to be kept entirely apart from her, she thought with relief. Perhaps Randolph had accepted that he couldn't win.
Aunt Liz turned her out in style in a silky, flowing creation in pale blue, with a solid silver pendant.
“Enchanting,” she enthused. “And this afternoon you were just perfect. I know His Roy- That is, Randolph was thrilled with you.”
“He didn't exactly put it that way,” Dottie demurred.
“Of course not. You must understand that his standards are of the very highest. For his country, nothing is too good. You won't find him an easy taskmaster. What did he say to you?”
“He said I had the right distant manner.”
“Excellent. He must be really impressed to be so warm in his approval.”
“Yes, but… Oh well, never mind.”
Tonight she could be alone with Mike and tell him of the British ambassador's promise that her reward for holding the fort would be enough money to buy the garage. They could start making plans at once.
Mike too had been newly outfitted and appeared before her in a dinner jacket and black tie. She stared at him, impressed, and he returned the compliment.
“You look great, Dot. Real great. I've got a couple of friends here, who are going to show us the sights.” He turned to a handsome young couple in their twenties, who had come in with him. “Harry and Jeanie.”
“Count Heinrich and Countess Eugenia Batz,” Aunt Liz supplied, while the couple bowed and curtsied.
“You told me Harry and Jeanie,” Mike complained to his new friends.
“And so we are,” the man said merrily. “Your Royal Highness-”
“Oh no, please,” Dottie protested. “I can't stand any more of that. It's such a mouthful every time.”
“Isn't it?” Jeanie said gaily. “Protocol is that we just say it once a day, when we first meet you. After that it's ma'am.”
“We're all going to have a wonderful night out,” Harry said.
So she and Mike weren't to be left alone together, Dottie thought wryly. Randolph had thought of everything.
“I see you're all ready. Splendid.” Randolph's voice from the door made them all turn.
Like the other men he was wearing a dinner jacket, and Dottie had to admit that he put them into the shade, not just by being taller, but by a certain air of natural authority, the conviction that wherever he was, he was at home. It had been born and bred into him, and she guessed that he would never lose it now.
His gaze fell on her. She had the feeling that he checked slightly and a faint warmth crept into his eyes.
“Will I do?” she asked, and held her breath for the answer.
“Admirably. You begin to look like a queen.”
“Thank you,” she said, deflated.
“Tonight you will enjoy yourselves. Harry and Jeanie will show you the best time you've ever had.”
“Are you coming too?” Dottie asked.
“No, for once you'll be spared my company. Other duties demand my attention. But I'm leaving you in safe hands.”
“Eee Dot, it's gonna be great,” Mike enthused.
“You forgot my royal dignity,” Dottie teased him. “You should have said, 'Eee ma'am, it's gonna be great.”
Mike roared with laughter, and in the general mirth they all swept out of the door. Dottie tried not to mind that Randolph wasn't coming too, but it was natural, being used to his undivided attention, to feel a little put out.
In minutes the sleek, black limousine had reached the suburbs of Wolfenberg, the country's capital city. Although not large it was elegant and beautiful, with a Parisian air. The great buildings were constructed from pale gray stone and so cleverly built that the heavy material seemed to take wing. It was growing dark and the floodlights were already on.
“There's the parliament building,” Jeanie pointed out, “the town hall, the cathedral and there's the great fountain that was built to commemorate the battle of…”
For Dottie these things were interesting, but she knew that Mike would be going glassy-eyed with boredom. She asked him about his day and he needed no encouragement to talk about the Ferrari. Since Harry too was a car fanatic the conversation became mechanical, and they soon abandoned sightseeing.
“There's a little place just ahead that I think you'd like,” Harry said and soon the car swung into a pretty piazza. A short flight of steps led to a picturesque café with tables outside.
The place specialized in ice cream, and since Dottie was an ice-cream addict she felt she was in heaven. It was a warm evening. In the piazza just below them were trees hung with colored lights, beneath which couples strolled.
“This is the center of Wolfenberg,” Jeanie explained as Dottie tucked into a huge confection of chocolate, coffee and vanilla ice cream, studded with nuts and doused in cream. “People congregate here before and after the theater, and sooner or later everyone comes past.”