Chapter 15

Doug Whitfield was a veteran of receiving lines. As a result, he managed to stand back out of the way as people moved down the line. He had selected his position to allow him to watch Queen Karla and her friends. Standing side by side as they were, he was amazed at their appearance and behavior. First, he realized that they were almost like peas in a pod. They were physical duplicates of one another.

As he watched, things became even more surprising. Watching closely, he realized that they moved with the grace of trained dancers or athletes in stark contrast to the women he had been used to meeting. Moreover, they seemed at home in the receiving line. Although the people ranged from ambassadors — earlier he had spotted the ambassadors of Her Majesty and the United States — to commoners, they seemed at home with everyone. Moreover, he was close enough to observe that all of them were able to shift languages with the greatest of ease.

Then a small tow-headed girl with pigtails came through the line with a family that obviously didn’t fit the surroundings. The man — the girl’s father, obviously — was wearing a rather ill-fitting suit, and his wife, a lovely woman, was wearing what was clearly her finest dress, but which was not in any sense formal. With them was an older girl and a baby carried in the mother’s arms. Notwithstanding, they were greeted by the auburn-haired marquise as if they were family. Dropping down she kissed both girls, and then greeted the parents warmly. This was repeated by the Duchess of Burgundy and then by the Queen herself.

At the end of the line, the family was very unobtrusively taken aside. Were it not for his training, he would have missed the packet of money surreptitiously placed in the father’s hand. From the way the man’s eyes widened, the amount was substantial. They realize the family can’t possibly afford such an affair, so they’re returning the money, he thought, but in a way that will prevent any embarrassment. Then he remembered Paula Wilhelm’s comment about children in the death ward and recognized the little girl as one of the two who had made a presentation to Barbara Sloan and Queen Karla. Regardless of the cost, he thought, they wanted to personally thank the people who saved their daughter’s life.

As he watched, Doug thought about his own situation. A veteran of the Army and the Special Air Service or SAS, after release from active duty he had gone to the City where he found making money to be both very easy and very dull. Moreover, his grandfather, aside from his ducal holdings, had been a very astute investor as well, so the family fortunes were in the best shape they had been in for over 100 years.

He thought about his relationship with his grandfather, Donald, 12^th Duke of Northumbria. The duchy dated back to the days of Henry VIII, when the king needed powerful warlords in the north to cover against a possible Scottish attack. His ancestor, the first Duke, had been just such a man. In fact, he thought, the family has been fighting for the king — or queen — for centuries.

His grandfather had earned the Victoria Cross as a squadron leader in the RAF during the Battle of Britain. Then he had stayed in the service, rising to the rank of air vice marshal heading Fighter Command. His grandfather was a widower. One of the great ironies in his life was that he had won the VC for defending England against the Luftwaffe, yet his wife, Claire, the love of his life, had herself been killed in a raid on London when a hospital in which she was a volunteer was hit by a 1,000 pound bomb. Following her death when his father was a boy, he had never remarried. When his own parents were killed in an auto accident years earlier, his grandfather had taken over as his father and raised him. In fact, he called him Dad, not Grandfather.

Thinking about his personal situation, Doug could only shake his head, whether from disgust or frustration he wasn’t sure. Probably both! he thought. Mentally, he reviewed the hundreds of girls he had dated, and the roughly two dozen he had brought home to the castle at Prendwick to meet his grandfather and obtain his blessing on their marriage. Neither his blessing nor his permission had ever been obtained. Each time, he thought, I’ve been disappointed.

But, he realized, that really wasn’t true. Rather than disappointment at not being allowed to marry the girl, it was resignation that he would have to go back to the rat race and start over again. Thinking about his series of women, he realized that they represented virtually the entire group of unattached female nobility. But at the same time they represented the distillation of the very worst. Inwardly, he smiled at the thought. Instead of breeding for the very best, it was almost seemed as if they had been bred for the very worst. Their bodies were terrible — although well-dressed — and their minds were worse.

Going back to their bodies, he suddenly realized something else. The three girls he had been studying were all wearing gowns that could only be worn by women with perfect figures. They were cut in such a way as to conceal absolutely nothing in the way of figure defects and obviously there were none to conceal. His previous experience had been with women whose clothes were engineered to try to minimize their myriad physical defects while highlighting their good points, if any.

Finally, he looked at Steve Sloan and his wife. When he had been at Oxford, one of his tutors had been Sloan’s dissertation adviser. He vividly remembered how the man had been in awe of Sloan’s ability, and an Oxford don was seldom in awe of anything.

As he watched the Sloans he realized two things: First, there appeared to be a need on the part of both to touch one another. Second, whenever one looked at the other the look was one of the greatest love. Moreover, he realized that the touching was an almost unconscious act on both their parts; it was not at all forced or in any way for show. Rather, it seemed to satisfy a deeply-felt need. And Barbara Sloan was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She just radiates beauty, he thought.

Checking the receiving line, Doug found that it was now short; it would be breaking up soon. Taking his place at the end he moved through, cringing a bit as his title, 8^th Earl of Whitfield, was passed from one person to the next. Finally he reached the marquise. Taking her hand, he bowed and kissed her fingers. As he did so, he realized that the girl handled the whole thing with the greatest aplomb. After straightening up he greeted her, “Good evening, Your Grace.”

He could have sworn her eyes were dancing as she replied, “Good evening to you, Excellency. It is so nice of you to come such a long way to attend the gala. Or did some other matters bring you to the Czech Republic?” As she spoke he realized that her English was utterly perfect. Moreover, she appeared to be as comfortable in the language as he was.

“No, Your Grace. There was nothing else.” With his eyes gleaming he added, “However, there was a rumor going around that Anna and Maria, the creators of Mayday, might appear. Since you are now among the most famous young women — and the most beautiful — on the face of the earth, I felt I had to make the trip.”

Shaking his head he continued, “And I must second the President’s comment: Indeed you do utterly destroy the computer nerd stereotype!”

The smile she gave him was the warmest and most wonderful he had ever seen. “Why thank you, kind sir!” Then turning to Maria she said, “May I introduce you to my sister, Maria, Duchess of Burgundy?”

Good grief! he thought. Where have these women been? They are the most beautiful and most perfect examples of nobility on the Continent. But I’ve never seen them before.

After kissing Maria’s hand, he looked into her eyes and was again startled. First, at six feet three, he was used to looking down into women’s eyes and used to having them craning their necks to look up at him. At five feet eight and wearing two-inch heels, the girls were only five inches shorter, so Maria was just looking up at a very comfortable angle. But second, as he looked into her eyes he realized he was seeing nothing but joy, purity, and grace. With a small smile he said, “I’m particularly fond of the wine produced in your duchy. It is possibly the finest in the world.”

“Isn’t it a shame my ancestors were unable to hold on to it?” she replied with a lovely grin. Shaking her head she said, “I regret, Excellency, that I’m not familiar with Whitfield. Where is it?”

“In the North Country,” he replied. “Actually, Earl of Whitfield is one of my grandfather’s junior titles, which he allows me to use.” Then he asked, “Do you get to London often, Your Grace?”

“I have never been out of Czechoslovakia,” she replied. “Never in my whole life. But we — my sister and I — hope to visit it soon. I’ve read so much about it, and I long to see it.”

Then with her eyes piercing she continued, “Our president gave credit to the United States for saving us, and indeed they did a great deal. But had it not been for the valiant fight Great Britain waged alone for the year prior to America’s entry, there would have been no war for them to have entered. So thank you, sir, for helping us to obtain our freedom.”

“I regret, Your Grace, that had it not been for Chamberlain’s disgraceful capitulation in Munich, when we ‘gave’ Sudetenland back to Germany...” He laughed wryly and interjected, “‘Gave’! That’s a neat word. We gave a piece of Czechoslovakia to Germany for ‘peace in our time.’ But thank you.” The fact is, Dad — my grandfather — talks of Czechs, Poles, French, and Americans who flew with him in the RAF in those days.

“He was in the RAF during the Battle of Britain?” Doug nodded, and she murmured, “‘Never have so many owed so much to so few!’” Then tears came to her beautiful eyes and she added, “Please give your grandfather my sincerest thanks for what he did.”

Then, to his surprise, Doug found himself telling this young girl how, while his grandfather was fighting the Battle of Britain, his grandmother had been killed in a German air raid.

“And he never remarried, did he?” she asked sympathetically.

“No, Your Grace, he never did.” But then he commented, “I’ve never met a girl like you. You’re so young, yet so aware ... so sympathetic. And so beautiful!”

With a lovely grin she responded, “It is getting a bit thick, isn’t it? Now, Your Excellency, may I present you to Queen Karla? If you think I’m attractive, wait until you meet her!”

As she was passing him over to Karla he replied, “The word is beautiful, not attractive!” Then he was again surprised when she grinned and winked.

He was still shaking his head when he realized Karla’s hand was outstretched to greet him. Again he bowed formally and kissed her fingertips. Straightening up he looked at her and felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. This woman was utterly gorgeous. Like an incredible bumpkin, he actually felt his jaw drop.

“Wouldn’t you really feel more comfortable with your mouth closed?” she asked softly. He realized that she had pitched her voice so low no one else could hear her comment.

Looking into her eyes, he proceeded to lose himself. They were the brightest, yet warmest blue he had ever seen. That means our children will have blonde hair and blue eyes, too, he thought. Doug also had blue eyes and sandy blonde hair. What’s wrong with me!? he wondered. I haven’t said a word to this girl and I’m thinking about children! “Your Majesty, you are incredibly beautiful,” he said softly.

“Coming from the most eligible bachelor in Europe, I’ll take that as a compliment.” With that Karla made a graceful curtsy and grinned at him. “What did you think of my sisters?” she asked. “Aren’t they utterly incredible?”

“No more than you, Your Majesty.” Then he paused and added, “I should say something about the Karla Cross, but I really don’t know what to say. Except never before have I met a beautiful woman who is credited with creating a nation.” Then he stiffened to strict attention and gave her his smartest salute. Then, to his surprise, she, too, stiffened to attention and returned it with a salute at least as precise as his own.

When his astonishment showed, she said very softly, “Your Excellency, our president neglected to mention that I’m a government employee. I am a major in the Secret Police.”

After a pause to recover, he changed the subject back, “I suppose I should praise you for your fortitude during your torture. How could you stand it?”

“How could I not?” she replied. “All I did was absorb punishment. But you, Your Grace, were undoubtedly much more active when you earned the DSC. Can you tell me about it? Or any of those other medals for gallantry you’re wearing?”

“That was as neat a change of subject as I’ve ever seen,” he replied. “You’re obviously accustomed to receptions like this, but still, I’ve never seen such aplomb...” His statement tailed off when he realized she was just steadily shaking her head while wearing the warmest little smile he had ever seen.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, but this is my very first.” Then her smile became brilliant as she added, “But thank you for suggesting that I’m not disgracing either my country or myself.”

Before he could respond, she added, “May I present you to my closest friend in the world, my sister, Barbara Sloan?”

Taking Barbara’s hand in his he looked into her eyes and almost drowned. “My God! So this is where it all comes from. It’s what that woman, Paula Wilhelm, was saying, wasn’t it? You are truly the most beautiful woman in the world!” He shook his head and added, “But my problem is that as beautiful as you are outside, it is the merest shadow of your beauty within. I’ve heard about it, but until tonight never experienced it. All of the other girls have it, too, but not to nearly the degree you do.”

“Thank you, sir, for the wonderful compliment. Now why don’t you compare notes with my better half.” Turning to Steve she said, “Darling, this is Douglas, 8^th Earl of Whitfield. The cross he’s wearing around his neck is very similar to yours, isn’t it?”

Steve stiffened to attention and executed a meticulous salute which was as meticulously returned. To Barb he replied, “It should, darling. Mine is modeled on his. In fact, ours was created when we were fighting with the Brits in World War I, or The Great War as they know it; both are awarded for essentially the same things.” To Doug he asked, “How did you get yours, sir?”

“It was with the SAS, sir, but that’s all I can say. And yours?”

Barb replied before Steve. “His came from command of Carlson’s Rangers, but he’s never told us what he did. Maybe you can get it from him, sir. We never could.”

“Carlson’s Rangers!” Whitfield replied incredulously. “My God! That outfit’s name is spoken of only in hushed and reverent tones wherever fighting men gather — and regardless of for whom they’re fighting.” Shaking his head he spoke softly as if talking to himself, “A Ranger company with the power of an infantry battalion.”

Then in his normal tone he added, “You, sir, deserve a wife as perfect as the one you have. As you know, in SAS we’re not impressed by much, but we’re certainly impressed by your outfit.” Extending his hand he said, “Mr. Sloan, it is truly a pleasure to meet you.”

“From an officer in the SAS, I take that as high praise indeed.”

Then the orchestra began to play. Looking around they both realized that the receiving line had broken up, so Steve smiled warmly and said, “I hope you’ll excuse me. I dance with my wife almost every year. This is the year, and since there are only a few more days left...”

Doug found he really liked and certainly respected this good-humored Yank. Moreover, it fit in with a plan of his own. When the Sloans moved out toward the dance floor, he approached Anna and asked her to dance.

To his amusement, she opened her dance card with him standing beside her. She made a production of looking over the completely blank card and then said, “This is the first dance, isn’t it?” When he agreed it was, she ran her slim figure across from the number one to the blank line following. Then looking up at him she smiled warmly and said, “I have an opening for the first dance. Isn’t that wonderful?”

He grinned at her when she followed her statement with a quick wink.

Taking Anna into his arms, he had a momentary sinking feeling. Virtually all the girls he had ever danced with moved like trucks on the floor. When he held out his arms, she seemed almost to float towards him. Then moving off in time to the music, she was like a feather in his arms. Realizing he didn’t need to concentrate on either her feet or the music, he ran his fingers lightly up her bare back. When he did, she pressed her body closer to his and whispered, “That feels simply wonderful. Please don’t stop.”

Again he was surprised at her candor. When he decided to open up his dancing a little, she moved with him flawlessly. But finally the dance ended with her in his arms. Then she raised her head and cocked it, so he accepted her invitation and melted his lips to hers. The instant he did, he felt a flood of the purest joy, love and grace. Then her tongue that had been probing his mouth found his and the sensation increased many-fold. Finally, he eased away from the kiss and found her cheek on his shoulder.

Then she looked up at him and said softly, “Thank you for a lovely kiss ... and for a very wonderful dance.” He was astounded when she added, “Both were firsts for me.”

“You’re kidding!” he exclaimed. But she just grinned while shaking her head. “Do you mean to say... ?”

“That I’ve never danced with a man in my life before, or ever been kissed?” she asked with her eyes bright. When he nodded, she continued, “It’s true, though. I’ve danced for men, but never with one.” Then she looked pensive and continued, “Of course I’ve been kissed by Steve dozens of times, but he doesn’t count. He’s married.”

“And thank you for the lovely kiss...”

“But it was like kissing your sister, wasn’t it?” she finished with a wry little grin.

He returned her to where the other two girls were waiting. It was utterly astounding to him that no man had asked either to dance. Continuing his plan — and in spite of the immediate attraction he had felt when he looked at Karla — he spoke to Maria. “Would the Duchess care to dance?”

Maria grinned at him in a fashion identical to Anna’s and said, “I’ll make a deal with you. My name is Maria. If I may just call you Doug, we can dance. Otherwise...”

“Maria, may I have this dance?”

“Doug, I would absolutely love to!” she exclaimed. “Oops! I forgot to check my dance card. And it’s so filled, I’m really not sure if there’s an opening.”

Maria then did exactly what Anna had done earlier. And like Anna’s, Maria’s card had obviously never been opened. After playing out her little charade and finding she was unengaged, she flowed into his arms.

Recognizing the extraordinary similarity among the girls, Doug did not even experiment with Maria. Instead, acting on the assumption that she was a very good dancer, he moved on the floor in ways he almost never had a chance to demonstrate. Maria moved with him so flawlessly, they appeared to be a professional dance team. Indeed, other couples stopped dancing and moved back on the floor to provide them with more room. Then he realized that he was moving better on the dance floor than he ever had in his life.

Maria’s performance ratified his earlier feeling that the girls were trained dancers. She certainly moved like one. But then he remembered what Anna had said and was puzzled. He was almost certain she hadn’t lied. When they were dancing close, he realized he was holding an utterly perfect female body in his hands and he told her so.

“This is utterly marvelous, Douglas Whitfield!” she exclaimed in a whisper. “I can’t ever remember enjoying anything more.”

Finally the dance ended. When he kissed her, it was a repeat of his experience with Anna. He was utterly astonished at the purity of the love he felt flowing into his body. But, he realized, it was love utterly devoid of any passion.

When he eased apart, she grinned wryly and whispered, “Thank you, dear Doug. But it was like kissing your sister, wasn’t it?”

When he reluctantly nodded, she kissed him again lightly — but again flooding him with the purest love — and said, “But thank you again. It was the first time I’ve ever danced with a man, and my very first kiss.” Then her face fell as she remembered, “I’m sorry, Doug. It was my second kiss.”

As he escorted her back toward the waiting women, he said, “From the look that came over your face, I have to assume that the first experience wasn’t very pleasant.”

“It was as pleasant as a rape can ever be,” she replied quietly. “He was a Russian soldier and I was almost fifteen. He told me he was going to rape me. Since I was wearing my only dress, I took it off, took off my pants, lay on my back and spread my legs. That was the full extent of my knowledge of sex at the time. After he took me and realized from the blood that I had been a virgin, he kissed me. Then I asked if he wanted to take me again before I dressed. The result was that he took me three times.

“When he left, he gave me all his food and all his money ... a few cents, I guess.” Looking up at him she said, “So you could say I started off as a prostitute. But anyway, that was the first and only kiss a man has ever given me.

“Of course I kiss Steve Sloan all the time, but he doesn’t count. He kisses me like you, only worse. By that I mean, it’s full of love — he’s really loaded, by the way — but devoid of any passion. But when a guy shares his bed with Barbara Sloan, it’s truly remarkable that he would even know another woman is even alive.”

Rejoining the others, Doug bent over her hand and again kissed it. After rising he said, “Duchess, this has been a very great honor. Never have I danced with a woman who so perfectly displays every aspect of what the nobility aspires to, but with absolutely none of its all-too-common negatives.”

With his eyes boring into hers he concluded, “If the French nobility had been like you, mademoiselle, the nation would still be under Bourbon rule! You are utterly exquisite.”

“But, sir, I told you that—” Maria responded, utterly bewildered.

“Still under Bourbon rule!” he emphasized.

When she realized he was absolutely serious, tears appeared in her eyes and she said softly, “Milord, I cannot thank you enough for your kindness or your words.” Then she added, “Perhaps you would care to honor our sister, Karla, by asking her to dance? She’s by far the best of the three of us.”

When he asked Karla for the next dance, she didn’t go through the same charade. Instead, she immediately accepted. Taking his arm, they moved toward the floor. “Your sisters, your ladies-in-waiting, or whatever, are two of the most magnificent young women it has ever been my good fortune to meet.”

“Thank you, Milord,” she replied. “It is a very kind thing for you to say.”

“It’s not kind at all,” he protested. “It’s the simple truth!”

When he took her in his arms, he picked up with Karla where he had left off with Maria. Although he could hardly believe it, she moved with him even better than Maria had, although he couldn’t figure out how she possibly could. Maria had been perfect.

The third dance was a Viennese waltz, and he spun her, dipped, twirled, and moved in intricate waltz patterns that she followed perfectly. Partly because of the brilliance of their dancing and partly reflecting who she was, in just minutes the floor cleared except for them. All the other dancers were standing in a circle around the floor, leaving virtually the entire floor for them.

Steve and Barbara were among those watching. “My God!” she whispered. “Not since Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers ... Those two are utterly incredible!” Looking up at Steve she asked, “What do you think?”

Before he could reply, Susie had materialized on Barb’s shoulder. Tonight, she was wearing a beautiful ball gown. “They are utterly perfect!” she sighed and then disappeared.

“They certainly are!” Steve agreed. “And, darling wife, I have never seen Karla look so beautiful or so happy!”

“She’s so beautiful because she’s so happy,” she replied. “I’m keeping my fingers crossed!”

As the dance came to an end, Doug swept Karla down in a dip so low her back was almost on the floor. But then, as if there were springs in her legs, she came up straight and threw her arms up and out. It was a signal for thunderous applause from everyone watching.

Then Doug did something that utterly amazed him. He swept her into his arms and melted his lips to hers. There was an audible gasp from the spectators as they saw electricity flow between them. Karla, her arms around him, tried to crush her body to his as bells rang in her ears. Doug was almost overcome with the combination of limitless pure love, joy, grace and incalculable passion. When he eased away, he found he was gasping for breath, as the people surrounding them cheered.

To the amazement of them both, they waved happily to the people as they left the floor with their arms around each other’s waist. Rejoining the others, Karla turned toward him and said, “Would you kiss me again? Please?”

Instead of moving, he looked deeply into her eyes and almost drowned. Never had he seen such joy, purity, and sheer passion. As she tilted her head he lowered his and kissed her lightly. At least it was intended to be light, but it was not what Karla had in mind at all. While holding him tightly and crushing her body to his, she unleashed every shred of love in her being and tried to pour it out to him through her lips.

For Doug it was an unbelievable experience as he felt his body flooded with her love and passion. Then he realized he was getting lightheaded. Karla knew it, too, but didn’t let up. If anything, she increased her power which was already in Barbara’s class. She could sense his knees becoming rubbery, but still didn’t let up. Only when he collapsed, a dead weight in her arms, did she end the kiss.

While supporting his full weight in her arms, she grinned at her sisters and said, “It’s a good thing we’re into weight training, isn’t it? Otherwise he’d be on the floor!”

Both girls were bouncing with excitement. “Oh, Karla,” Anna exclaimed, “he’s simply perfect. And I love him like a brother already!”

Maria agreed. Both girls’ eyes were shining with happiness at Karla’s good fortune.

Karla continued to hold him as she felt him regaining consciousness. To Doug it was like feeling his joints slowly reassemble while his muscles tried to remember what they were there for and what they were supposed to be doing. Finally he shook his head to clear it and found himself looking into Karla’s beautiful eyes which were now twinkling with barely suppressed merriment.

“What happened?” he asked. Then he grinned and added, “There’s an original line for you.” But now glaring at her — or trying to — he repeated, “But what did happen?”

“You fainted,” Karla replied casually.

“Why am I not on the floor, then?”

“Because I held you up,” she replied simply.

“How much do you weigh, anyway?” he demanded. When she replied that she weighed about 120, he glared at her and said, “You can’t! I weigh about double that. You couldn’t possibly hold me up.”

“I regularly press 300 pounds,” she said, sticking out the tip of her pink tongue. “And much of your weight was still on the floor, anyway.”

He started to argue, but then looked at her carefully. “My God!” he exclaimed in a whisper, “Those are muscles, aren’t they.”

Then he grinned sheepishly and added, “When I looked at you girls and watched you move, I thought you were trained dancers or athletes. But you’re both, aren’t you?” Karla just shrugged. “But why did you do it?” he asked.

“To try to demonstrate the extent of the love for you that I feel,” she replied simply. With her eyes wide she continued, “There’s so much of it, I had to let some out or I would have burst.”

This time Doug looked at the three girls together and just shook his head. “You never lie, do you? You never dissemble. You three just tell the full truth as you know it.” Then he grinned and added, “You girls are too damned much!”

In the meantime, Steve and Barb had joined the group and overheard the last comments. “You really don’t know the half of it!” Steve exclaimed. “But I will say that these are the finest girls on the face of the earth. Whatever a man could want, they have in abundance, Your Lordship.”

“Could we knock off that stuff, right now?” Doug exclaimed. “The name is Doug, or if you’re being very formal, Douglas. Okay?”

“If you call me Steve, it’s okay,” he replied with a grin.

With that Doug wheeled back on Karla and demanded, “But what do I call you?”

With the most impish grin anyone had ever seen on her face she replied, “Well ... I’ve always been partial to Your Royal Highness ... But maybe, Your Serene Highness... ?” Turning to Maria she said, “Duchess, honey, what do you think?”