Gregory nodded. 'Better still, I'll send her a telegram. She'll get it on her arrival; and it may make tonight a little less miserable for her.'
'Good idea. Now, what about your sloeeyed Susan. Shockin' waste of a good thing; but I'm afraid you'll have to kiss her goodbye if you hope to patch matters up with Erika.'
'You're right there. I'd meant to anyway. I'll go up and break it to her after dinner. I had intended to ask you for a bed, but I'd better not stay in the house while she's here. I'll telephone Rudd that I'm back and will be sleeping at Gloucester Road.'
'That's sound. You can dine here though. Then, after you've had your showdown with that lovely piece of wickedness upstairs, if there is anything left of you we'll have a talk about your mission.'
'I may as well tell you about it now.'
Sir Pellinore held up a big hand. 'No. You are overdue for a few hours' sleep. Write out that telegram to Erika. I'll send it off and telephone Rudd. Your usual room is ready for you. Go straight to bed. I'll have you called at half past seven, in time for a bath, then we'll dine.'
When they met again Gregory was no less worried but, physically, his sleep and a hot bath had done him a lot of good. Over dinner their talk was mainly of the war, ranging in turn over the many far-flung battle fronts on which the Axis and the Allies were at death grips. Then, fortified by two glasses of Cockburn's 1912, Gregory went up to see Sabine.
He found her sitting up in bed clad in a nightdress of dark red chiffon that she had bought in Istanbul. She still had heavy shadows under her eyes as a result of their flight from Cyprus but the colour of the chiffon set off her dark beauty to perfection. On his entering the room her expression hardened, and she said abruptly:
'Well, what have you got to say?'
'Very little for myself,' he admitted, taking a chair beside her bed.
'That lovely blonde Countess is your mistress, isn't she?'
'Yes. And something more than that. We are engaged to be married as soon as she can get a divorce from her husband.'
'I seem to remember your telling me that you were not a marrying type.'
'That was true enough when we first met in 1936; but it seems the leopard can change his spots. Perhaps that's because I'm older now. Anyhow, for a long time past I've wanted to marry Erika von Osterberg, and I still do.'
'Why didn't you tell me that last night on the barge that you had someone in England?'
'I meant to. But, to be honest, I funked it. I'm afraid that I would hurt you, and I'd hoped…'
'To let me down lightly, eh?' Sabine gave him a cynical smile. 'That was most considerate of you. And now, I take it, the chicken has come home to roost. How unfortunate for you that, being uninformed of your situation, and knowing dear old Sir Pellinore to be a man of the world, I should have admitted to our having been lovers. That must have been a horrid shock to the Countess and, I fear, put an abrupt end to your engagement. Or have you made it up with her?'
'No,' Gregory replied dully. 'She has taken it very badly, and left a note in which she says she will refuse to see me.'
'Oh, my poor Gregory. I am so sorry for you.' Sabine's expression had suddenly changed and she was smiling at him.
'You… you mean that you don't mind?'
'Of course I mind. It is a terrible blow to my self-esteem that you should prefer any woman to myself. But I'll be honest about it. Love and attraction are two different things. I wasn't particularly attracted to my elderly husband; but I came to love him. On the other hand, you and I were terribly attracted to one another from the moment we met. We should count ourselves lucky that our feelings were mutual and that for two periods of several weeks we have been able to give full expression to them. It may not have been love, but we hit the high spots. That sort of thing can't last. It never does. But we've had it and should be grateful. After our talk that night on the barge, when you showed reluctance to bring me to England, I didn't suspect that there was someone else, but I did realize that we were pretty well through with one another, I dug my toes in because at the time you were my only sheet anchor. Now dear Sir Pellinore has promised to take care of me that lets you out. I'll always have a soft spot for you, but I wouldn't want you for life any more than you want me. I'm terribly sorry if I've bitched things for you with your lovely blonde. I wouldn't have done it intentionally. But she's not exactly just out of the schoolroom, is she? So unless she is a very stupid woman I expect you'll be able to talk her into forgiving you. Anyhow, I hope so.'
Gregory stood up and smiled down on her. 'My dear, you've taken a great load off my mind. I would have hated to really hurt you. Thank goodness you know enough about life to see things in their true perspective. Thank you too for everything. Whatever happens I'll always be your devoted friend. If ever you need my help in any way, you have only to let me know and you can count upon it.'
Ten minutes later he was saying to Sir Pellinore, 'I had a suspicion that her feelings for me were just about the same as mine for her; but I didn't expect that she would behave with such generosity. To let me out without a word of reproach was damn decent of her.'
The corners of Sir Pellinore's eyes wrinkled up in quizzical humour. 'I must say, dear boy, there are times when I find your still youthful conceit most refreshing. High fliers like this pretty bird may enjoy coming down now and then to peck up a hearty breakfast from the lawn. But they live among the tree tops. You need never have feared that she might pine away in loneliness for you. She has only to show her plumage to have a Duke or millionaire industrialist in tow. Now, tell me about Budapest.'
Somewhat chastened, Gregory gave an account of his stay at Nagykata with the Zapolyas, the formation of the Committee of Magnates and the final agreement to which that had led.
'Good show!' said Sir Pellinore when he had done. 'Jolly good show! That stuff you picked up from Sabine about the Nazis gamblin' everything on Stalingrad should prove very valuable. And by Jove, Gregory, you had something in your own plan! You were dead right. If we could have brought Hungary over to our side it would have saved Russia and altered the whole course of the war in our favour.'
Gregory frowned. 'You speak in the past tense. Does that mean that nothing can be done about it? I realize, of course, that landings on the Continent could not be made as late in the year as this, but if only Stalingrad holds out they would still pay us this magnificent dividend in the spring.'
'The Hungarians have stipulated for a force of fifteen divisions. There wouldn't be that number sufficiently trained to do the job.'
'Damn it all,' Gregory objected. 'It's two and a half years since Dunkirk. There has been an enormous intake during that time, armaments have been pouring out of the factories, and American forces have arrived here in their tens of thousands. If the new troops aren't capable of fighting yet they darned well ought to be. One doesn't win wars with an army that is content to sit indefinitely on its backside.'
Sir Pellinore considered for a moment, then he said, 'I take it you'll be reportin' back for duty at the War Cabinet Offices on Monday?'
'Yes, I suppose so. That is, unless Erika says I can go up to see her. Anyhow, I'll be back there early next week.'
'Then there's no reason why I shouldn't tell you what you're certain to learn in a few days' time. Within a month or so all our first line divisions will have left the country. Big show is being mounted now. Dead secret, of course; but you'll hear all about it when you get back to the War Room.'