A Collector of Hearts Read Online Free PDF Page B

Having said that, I did only meet the man last night.” She walked
back to the table and sat down. “It seems to me you’re the best person to find
out, Mr Laurenson.”
                Blake smiled. “Isn’t it time you called me Blake?
Especially as I’ve seen you in your nightdress. Very pretty it was too.”

 
    The rest of Caroline’s day
was taken up with running errands for Mrs Oakengate. Once or twice she saw
Blake talking to other guests, but whenever he tried to talk to Prince Henri,
the prince quickly moved away. Blake was not the only one who had trouble
talking to the prince. Once in the afternoon, Count Chlomsky approached him.
                “Your highness, if I may speak to you on a very important
matter.”
                “Please, Chlomsky, not now. I am enjoying myself.” The
prince turned back to the dizzy actress. “Who wants to discuss affairs of state
when affairs of the heart are much more important.” As the prince spoke, Mrs
Oakengate entered the room, having returned from powdering her nose. The prince
very quickly forgot the dizzy blonde and dashed to Mrs Oakengate’s side. “My
dear lady. You are a vision of loveliness today.”
    She wondered if the prince
had guessed Blake was a reporter, and did not want to be questioned. But that
did not explain his reluctance to talk to Count Chlomsky. The more she thought
about it, the more she felt that Blake’s explanation about allowing Jack
Henderson a good review in return for access to the prince was not much more
plausible than the ‘old friends’ excuse. Prince Henri seemed terrified of Blake
and Chlomsky, for reasons Caroline could not fathom. Perhaps, she thought, he
feared assassination. If what Blake said were true, Prince Henri was
Cariastan’s only hope of liberty from the Russians and the Germans. So it would
make him a prime target for an assassin from either side. Where, she thought,
did Blake’s loyalties lie? As for the Count, Caroline knew a little bit about
him from her aunt and uncle. He had once been a spy for the Russians, before
taking sides with the allies during the Great War and seeking asylum in another
country. A man who could change sides so easily might have no compunction in
going back to his old masters. If he had ever left them, that is.
    Later that evening, there
was more informal dancing in the ballroom. The prince spent most of the evening
sitting next to Mrs Oakengate.
    “You do me a great honour,
your highness, by spending time with an old woman.”
    “You are nothing of the
sort, madam,” said the prince. “You are but a spring chicken. I can see why my
father fell in love with you.”
    “Oh it was a grand affair,”
said Mrs Oakengate. “If not for his advisors telling him he could not marry an
actress, I am sure he would have asked for my hand. Instead he married a
chambermaid, which was rather perplexing under the circumstances,” she said,
pursing her lips. Then she remembered herself. “Of course, I’m sure your mother
was no ordinary chambermaid.”
    “Did you know my mother?”
asked the prince.
    “Well, only in that she
cleaned my room at the Cassandra.”
    “The Cassandra?” Caroline
was suddenly alert.
    “Yes, that was the name of
the hotel. Surely you’ve heard of the Cassandra chain of hotels, Caroline. Or
perhaps not. Millie and Jim are more prone to taking their holidays off the
beaten track, and among the lower classes, are they not?”
    “Yes,” said Caroline. “We
once went to Tenby camping.”
    “Good lord, what is the
world coming to? I’m sure you agree, your highness, being used to more
luxurious surroundings.”
    “Exactly,” said the prince,
shaking his head sadly. “I do not understand all this hob-knobbing with the
lower classes. One should stick to one’s own kind.”
    “How can you say that?”
asked Caroline. “When your mother was a chambermaid who married a prince?”
    “Caroline!” Mrs Oakengate
only just fell