CHAPTER 27
Michael came to take Farah to lunch on the following Tuesday, driving a long, low Jaguar, its silver paint glistening in the sunlight. She had looked forward to the occasion with a mixture of excitement and anxiety -- excitement because it wasn't every day a girl got taken to lunch by a prince, and anxiety over what to say to him now that she knew him to be a prince.
Michael took her to a secluded place off the main highway on the outskirts of town. The proprietor greeted them warmly, led them to a small alcove off the main dining room, and took their order.
"I come here often," Michael explained after they had ordered. "They know who I am, but to them I'm just another customer. Nobody ever bothers me here."
"Living in the limelight must be very wearing."
He shrugged. "Here at home no one makes much fuss. It's the foreign reporters who give us trouble. I especially resent their intrusion when I'm entertaining a young lady." He smiled at her. "I'm sure a girl with your looks must be used to reporters hanging around."
"Why, no," she told him. "I'm nobody important, I'm just a college student."
"I understand your father was well-known and respected."
"You must mean Dr. Fuller. He was my adoptive father. Both my parents died in a plane crash."
"How sad for you. I hope you don't think I was intruding in your private life."
"Of course not. But I'm more interested in hearing about you. What's it like to be a prince?"
"It has it's advantages. And disadvantages. One is never really free. I belong to my country."
"Even as a younger son?"
"In my case, yes. My brother has survived a riding accident and a bout with polio from which he emerged almost unscathed, fortunately. But so far he has fathered no children. Until he does I'm heir apparent. But not to worry," he added in a lighter tone, "Boris is tough and strong and will live forever."
"You speak as if the job doesn't particularly appeal to you." It isn't so hard talking to a prince after all, Farah was thinking.
"I wouldn't choose it voluntarily. But if it should happen, I would serve my people with devotion and to the best of my ability."
His expression as he said this touched Farah, and she found herself liking him very much. Everything she had learned about him showed him to be a young man of sensitivity, itelligence and charm. "I'm sure you would," she said warmly.
He looked pleased. "It's public knowledge, of course, that the principality exists only as long as there are direct heirs. Failing that, the country would revert to France."
"You must sometimes feel like Atlas, supporting the world on your shoulders."
"Only when I'm being pressured to get married and carry on the line." He said this with a grin.
The food arrived, and they devoted themselves to enjoying it. Over coffee Michael returned to the subject of Farah's background.
"I want to know all about you," he said. "Tell me about your parents, your childhood, your life with Dr. Fuller, everything."
So she told him what she knew of the young Farah's life, including the fabrication about her being hidden away by government agents. She told him about looking up Jason after her release, because she had no one else to turn to. About his adopting her, and her life as his daughter until his tragic death. She told him about Kevin and how he had died. She left out entirely any reference to Noel. She had not meant to tell him all this, she didn't know why she felt compelled to do so, unless it was the intense interest with which he listened.
Throughout this recital he seemed visibly moved, and when she had finished, he took her hands in his and said, "Poor little dove, what a sad life you have had. I wish I could make it up to you for all the tragedy you have known."
She looked at him in astonishment and saw astonishment in his face also. Clearly he had been carried away and had said more than he intended.
Farah felt that an answer was required, and cast about in her mind for something to say that would acknowledge his solicitude while making it clear she didn't misunderstand his intentions.
"You're a man with a big heart," she said finally. "A little impulsive, perhaps, but I'm sure that if you're ever called upon to lead your country, your people will be well served."
Several days later when Farah returned home from work, she sensed an undercurrant of excitement throughout the house. Guests loitering in the halls looked at her strangely when they greeted her, as if they knew something she didn't. The mystery was solved when she found awaiting her in her room a large, square envelope bearing the crest of the royal house. As she opened it she wondered why Michael would be writing to her. But it was not from Michael, it was from his mother, Princess Alexandra, inviting Farah to an informal dinner with her and Michael in her private quarters in the palace on Friday night next. She explained that the only other invited guest would be Dr. Hackaby.
Farah was still gasping when the phone rang. "Farah?" It was Hack, sounding agitated. "I've got to talk to you. Can I pick you up about an hour before meeting the others for dinner?"
"Is it because of the invitation?" Why is he so upset, she wondered. Without waiting for his reply, she added quickly, "I'll be ready."
"Good girl," he said and hung up.
Hack drove to a spot in the nearby hills overlooking the city. The sun was still high in the sky as he parked, and there was no one else in sight. He sat quietly for a moment, a brooding look on his face.
Finally Farah asked, "What is it, Hack?"
He turned to look at her. "Are you prepared to marry a prince?"
"What are you talking about?"
"The princess invited you to dinner so she could look you over. In our world it's usually the young man who is looked over by the parents, but this is a different world."
"You can't be serious, Hack. I've been out with Michael exactly once, and then he was repaying me because I shared my lunch with him." He's like a mother hen, Farah thought. I know he's fond of me, but really! Then she softened, remembering all he had done for her. "Anyway, it's you she probably wants to meet."
But he could not be diverted. "When a prince singles a girl out publicly, as Michael did you at the Festival," he said, "it's pretty safe to assume he's seriously interested."
"You're making too much of this, Hack."
"And when his mother follows it up with an invitation to dinner, it makes one wonder."
"Then I'd better go straight home." Farah's voice rang with decision. "Even if you're wrong, and I think you are, there's no point in letting this go any further. So if you won't think me ungrateful for running out on you after all you've done for me, I'll just pack up and go home."
"I want only what you want, Farah." But there was relief in his voice. "If you think that's best, okay. But not until after the dinner. You don't refuse an invitation from a princess."
"Oh, Hack, I'm so selfish. I hadn't thought what all this might do for you and your project. Of course I'll go to the dinner. I'll be suitably respectful and formal, and then I'll put the princess's mind at ease by announcing that I'm leaving to go back to school."
"She'll fall in love with you, too, when she sees you. Don't underestimate yourself."
"Don't confuse the issue by changing sides on me, you bum," she said with a laugh.
Hack laughed, too, his mind now at ease, and started the car. "I think I can do justice to a big meal tonight. How about you?"
The palace sat in themiddle of a small park, an imposing building of many rooms. It was surrounded by a high fence, with security gates. Emerging from a small gatehouse, a uniformed guard glanced at the invitation Hack produced and admitted them without question.
They followed the driveway through a small stand of trees, skirted a beautifully landscaped lawn, passed the front entrance of the palace with its massive doors, turned a corner, and entered an interior courtyard. A man in livery came out a side door, followed by Michael, who greeted them warmly and ushered them inside while an attendant parked their car.
They found themselves in a large hall with corridors leading left and right and steps leading upward. As they followed Michael up the steps and down a long hall to a facing door, Farah was filled with anxiety about the evening. Looking down at the simple beige dress she was wearing, she wondered if she was properly garbed. A helpful young lady at the American Legation when Farah rang them up had suggested something understated with a minimum of jewelry.
Hack's dark business suit gave him presence and dignity, causing Farah to envy men in their uniformity of dress that relieved them of doubt about what to wear on all occasions.
Michael ushered them through a small entrance hall into the large, elegantly appointed living room of Princess Alexandra's suite. A tall, regal woman in a beautifully designed powder blue dress came forward to greet them. Although Farah had been told it was not expected that she curtsy, to her amazement she found herself doing so, while Hack bowed.
The princess extended her hand, first to Hack, then to Farah. "I'm so happy you could come." She sounded sincere as she said this.
"We are honored, Your Highness." Hack bowed over her hand.
"Please, let's not stand on ceremony," she said in faintly accented English as she took Farah's hand. "How lovely you are," she said.
Drinks were offered, and Farah accepted a glass of wine. She told herself there was no substance to Hack's belief that she was here to be looked over as a possible bride for Michael, but she couldn't help feeling nervous. As the princess, with the ease of long experience, steered the conversation from this subject to that, Farah relaxed, and soon they were all chatting informally.
Dinner was served by the princess's private butler in her private dining room. Alexandra asked many questions about life in America, which she said fascinated her. Her few visits to the United States had been state visits, she said, and her sightseeing had been confined to escorted tours. Hack, who answered most of the questions, explained that until recently Farah had spent the greater part of her life abroad.
This of course led to Farah's giving an encapsulated version of the whole fabricated story of the bogus Farah. It saddened her each time she repeated it, for deception was not her nature and she had never got over feeling unsafe from exposure in the identity of Farah. But she now repeated it easily and well, although she was sure Alexandra had already heard it from her son.
"I, too, had a sort of nomadic life when young," Alexandra said when the recital ended. "My father was a Russian nobleman, one of the few who could see what was coming. He got his family out of Russia just before the Revolution. Then he went back to fight and die for his Czar."
Hack's expression was one of surprise. "You must have been only an infant at the time."
"You flatter me. I was four years old, and I remember everything. My brothers were seven and nine. Our mother had led a sheltered life and had no idea how to cope. But she found the strength to carry on, and after a few years of living here and there with friends and relatives, she settled us permanently in France and life became more stable. My father had had time to transfer only a small part of his holdings and our income was not large, so Mother supplemented it from time to time by selling pieces of her jewelry so that we were never impoverished as were many of our countrymen."
"Both your parents sound like remarkable people," Farah said.
"And you survived the experience with visible grace." Hack was clearly admiring.
At this compliment the princess's face glowed with pure beauty, and it became apparent where Michael got his good looks. "That's a very nice thing to say," she told Hack.
This exchange had the effect of turning the evening into a happy occasion, and there was much laughter and gaity throughout the rest of the meal.
As soon as the table was cleared, Alexandra rose. "Shall we leave the gentlemen alone?" she said to Farah.
Farah rose, too, amused at this oldfashioned custom, and followed Her Highness back to the living room, thinking that Alexandra probably referred to it as the drawing room. She was also thinking that perhaps she was being maneuvered into a private conversation. It turned out to be more like an interview, she thought later.
Alexandra began the conversation as soon as they were seated. "Do you live alone?" When Farah answered that she did, the princess continued. "It pleases me that women have achieved so much more freedom now than when I was young. I was educated at a girls' school, and all our social activities were chaperoned."
"How appalling," Farah said.
"I understand American women are the freest in the world. How wonderful that young people are now free to choose their own life partners." She laughed. "Eligible young men were scarce for the daughter of a Grand Duke, who was expected to marry someone of like rank. Even now, most such marriages are arranged, and are often very happy. I was fortunate; Michael's father and I fell in love with each other at our first meeting."
"You were indeed fortunate." Farah wondered where all this was leading.
"I hope my son will be equally fortunate," Alexandra said, "although there seems to be a shortage now of eliglble princesses of the proper age."
I think I'm being tested, Farah thought, although I haven't the foggiest idea whether she's trying to find out if I'd be a suitable consort for her son or how much it would cost her to buy me off. Either alternative dismayed Farah, for the only conclusion she could draw was that Michael was seriously interested in her. Or maybe the princess was just making conversation?
She decided to try a little test herself. "I would have thought that Prince Ranier's example might have changed all that."
"Well, of course there are exceptions, particularly when the young lady has an impeccable background and is a celebrity in her own right."
"And of course there is only one Grace Kelly." I might as well give her a dose of her own medicine, thought Farah, and added, "Does that mean that Prince Michael might have to marry an older woman or take a child bride?"
Her Highness, for once in her life, looked to be at a total loss. For a moment Farah savored her discomfiture, then with a quick pang of remorse said warmly, "I'm sure that somewhere there is the perfect bride for Michael, and I hope he finds her."
Recovering, Alexandra brought the war back into Farah's camp. "And I'm sure a lovely girl like you must have someone special waiting for her at home."
Farah decided to let her off the hook. "Yhe young man I was planning to marry was killed recently in an accident. That's why I'm here, I've been running away from my grief. It's time now for me to go home and pick up the pieces."
All Alexandra's animosity disappeared in a rush of sympathy. "My dear, I didn't know. You're a very spunky young woman, and I'm sure that in time you'll find happiness."
"Thank you, Your Highness, you're very kind."
Emerging from the dining room with Hack, Michael asked if they would like a tour of the palace. When Alexandra begged off, Michael guided his guests through the accessible parts of the castle, which was old but modernized and luxurious, with a modest art gallery. When he showed them his own apartment, he said, "When I marry I'll be given larger quarters. Or I can live anywhere else I please. I don't have to live in the palace."
"It does awe one a little, doesn't it?" Farah said.
When the tour was finished, Hack suggested they leave, as he had to be up and away early the next morning. After saying farewell to the princess, they were escorted by Michael back to the courtyard, where the same attendant brought their car around.
"How did you and my mother hit it off?" Michael asked Farah.
"Very well, I think. She's a great lady."
"I'm glad you think so. It's important to me that you like each other."
Farah looked around; Hack was getting in the car. "Michael," she said, "I've decided to go back to school. I'll be leaving in a few days."
"I see." She couldn't tell how the news affected him. "I'm sorry to see you go, but perhaps it would be best. You need time to recover from your fiance's death. But you'll be seeing me again, Farah. I won't forget you."
"Perhaps you'd better try, Michael. We live in different worlds. I'm glad we met, though. You're very special."
He kissed her lightly on the cheek and held the car door for her as she got in. "Goodbye for now, Farah, and good luck," he said, and stood looking after them as they drove away.