Princess Dottie

Chapter Three

Thursday was the great day of the week, the day when Dottie finished work early, and met Mike in the park. As two o'clock neared she hurried away from the café, rejoicing in the knowledge that all was right with the world. The sun was shining and heaven, in the shape of a chunky garage mechanic, was just around the corner. The fantasies of the night before were no more than colored dreams, like being taken to the movies. It was easier to think like this because there'd been no sign of Mr. Holsson this morning. She'd done him a good English breakfast, as promised, but had persuaded Jack to take it up.

She entered the little wood that fringed the park, and at first she had to stop and blink as the trees blotted out the light. Then her sight cleared and she realized that she wasn't alone. A man stood leaning against a tree, only half-visible through the slanting sunbeams.

Today he was in slacks and shirt, with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He didn't see Dottie at first and she was able to study him, trying to recapture the way he'd seemed the previous evening. But in the morning light she saw only a man whose arms were heavy with muscles, and whose torso beneath the light shirt was lean and hard.

Last night he'd kissed her, but only softly, on the lips. He hadn't put those strong arms around her or drawn her against him. Of course it was better that he hadn't, but for a moment her head spun with the thought. Behind the gentleness of his mouth she'd sensed something else, a tension, an urgency, even an anger, that she'd never known before in a man's kiss.

Her experience was limited: overeager boys whose wishes had exceeded their skill, and whom she'd had to put firmly in their place. And Mike, well-meaning and affectionate, always glad to please her.

But now she'd encountered something different, not a boy but a man, with the power to excite her mysteriously. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again something had changed. The sun struck him at an angle that made him seem enclosed in a golden light, and for a moment it was like seeing an apparition; a benevolent apparition that hinted at a glorious future that might tantalize her for a moment before vanishing.

He looked up to where she stood. But although his eyes were fixed on her she had a feeling that it wasn't herself he was looking at, but someone else. The impression was so strong that she turned to look behind her. But then he smiled, and she knew it was just for her.

Randolph had awoken with a strange sensation, as though the new world he'd glimpsed last night was still there, inviting him to enter again, because she was there. She had the gift of spring, he thought, and was startled at himself, because such a poetic thought had never crossed his mind before. All his training urged him to avoid such ideas, but when he saw her again he smiled despite himself.

“Was your breakfast all right?” she asked, coming closer to him. “You didn't eat it all.”

He nearly said frivolously, “That was because you didn't bring it up to me.” But he pulled himself together. He was here on serious business.

“It was excellent,” he said, “but a little more than I normally eat. The tea was-” he hunted for the word, “very strong,” he said at last.

“Round here we say tea's not tea unless you can stand the spoon up in it.”

“So I gathered,” he said with feeling.

It was better to keep the talk light, and so avoid the swirling undercurrents.

“Are you exploring the neighborhood?” she asked as they fell into step.

“No, I was waiting for you.”

The sudden gravity in his voice made Dottie's heart beat faster, as though she was faced with unknown danger.

“I warned you about that floorboard,” she said quickly. “If you want to complain-”

“I have no complaints,” he said, taking hold of her arm to halt her. “There are things we need to talk about. Last night-”

“Last night was lovely but…” she shrugged helplessly, “it was last night. Today I'm me again.”

“And who were you then?”

“I don't know. Someone I'd never met before. Someone who could fly.” Meeting his eyes she saw an understanding that disconcerted her. It was as though he knew everything she would say before she'd thought of it herself. It made her laugh self-consciously. “Whoever she was, it's time she went her way and let me go mine.”

“Was she the one who kissed me?”

“She didn't,” Dottie said, trying to be firm. “It was you… Oh, I don't know anything anymore.”

“I've been a bit confused myself,” he admitted. “But I think it was something like this.”

He leaned swiftly down and laid his mouth over hers. He knew there was danger in it, because springtime was always dangerous to a man who'd never known it before. But his caution had deserted him. He must kiss this one woman or regret the loss all his life.

He'd moved too swiftly for Dottie to prevent him. She instinctively put her hand up, but it merely fell on his shoulder. He almost seemed to be hypnotizing her so that her will died away, and she could do only what he was telling her. Obeying those silent instructions, she failed to protest when he put his hands gently on either side of her face.

She hadn't known that a man's lips against hers could feel like this, tender and coaxing, yet impossible to deny. She had a strange feeling that she was kissing him with all of her, not just her mouth. Certainly all of her was responding, from the top of her head, down the length of her suddenly tingling body, right to her curling toes.

Her hands had become rebellious. They wanted to rove over his body, across the hard muscles of his arms and chest and discover the flatness of his stomach, the power of his thighs. She knew that these things were true about him because the movements of his mouth against hers were silently telling her.

Somewhere in her consciousness doors and windows opened wide, showing vistas of far horizons, stormy seas, endless blue skies. The world was so much bigger than she'd dreamed, and was full of so many unsuspected things. There was exploring to do, and it would take her far beyond the comfortable little world in which she'd planned to contain herself and Mike-

Mike!

The word was like a thunderclap in Dottie's brain. Shocked at herself, she drew sharply back and stared at him. Then she wrenched herself out of Randolph's arms and ran deeper into the wood.

“Dottie!” he called and ran after her. “Don't go, please. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.”

“No,” she said, turning back to him and managing a shaky laugh. “This is so silly. It's just…just…”

“Spring makes people do silly things,” he said hastily. “I got carried away.”

“You?” she echoed with such naГЇve astonishment that he had no doubt how he looked to her: a man who couldn't let himself be spontaneous. And she was right. When had it last happened? Never before he met her.

“Perhaps it's because I'm a tourist,” he improvised. “People go mad when they travel abroad-”

“And they make other people mad too,” she agreed, frantically rewriting history. She was in love with Mike, so she hadn't kissed this man. At least, she had but she hadn't really enjoyed it-not as much as she thought she had.

“I have to go now,” she said. “It was nice seeing you again but-” suddenly the words came out in a gabble, “I really must go.”

She rushed away without a backward glance, eager to find Mike and the safe, cozy world she knew with him. There was nothing safe or cozy about this stranger. He made her think of lightning and fire, and she needed to get away from him.

Just beyond the trees she found Mike sitting on a wooden bench, munching a sandwich. He was startled out of his contented reverie by Dottie's arms about his neck as she flung herself down beside him.

“Careful, Dot,” he protested. “You'll get peanut butter over me.”

The last words were lost in the most fervent kiss she'd ever given him. He abandoned the sandwich and embraced her back, despite his surprise.

“Have you been taking something?” he demanded when he could breathe.

“Yes, I'm drunk with spring,” she said idiotically. “And I wanted-” she took a deep breath, “the most wonderful kiss in the world.”

“And you reckoned I could give you that?” Mike asked, awed. “Eee, Dot!”

“Of course. Who else? You're the one I love.”

She said this so fiercely that Mike stared at her in alarm. Randolph, a short distance away, behind a tree, couldn't see him clearly, but he could sense the reaction. What did Mike understand of a woman like this? In the few moments it had taken him to brush his mouth against Dottie's he had discovered the banked fires of passion waiting for the one man to bring it forth. And that man wasn't this well meaning oaf, whatever she believed.

Her next words gave him a nasty shock.

“Mike, when are we going to set the date?”

“Whenever you like, Dot. But I thought we decided to wait until we had the deposit for the garage.”

“I've changed my mind. I'm going to snap you up fast, before Bren gets her claws into you.”

“Aw, c'mon. You know I love you Dot. I couldn't care about anyone else, any more than you could.”

Dottie's voice was suddenly high and breathless. “Of course we couldn't, but let's not take chances. You-you never know what's going to happen.”

“All right. Whatever you say.”

“No, it shouldn't be just what I say. It should be what we say.” She sounded suddenly despondent. “Don't you want to marry me?”

“Course I do. I said yes when you proposed, didn't I? All right, don't hit me.”

From behind the tree Randolph could hear a scuffle and laughter that ended very suddenly. He resisted the impulse to lean out and see what was happening, but the silence went on longer than he liked.

“Are we going to have a honeymoon?” Mike asked at last.

“Sure. How about a Caribbean cruise?”

“Yeah, I'd like one of them.”

“Price no object,” Dottie said grandiloquently.

“Three thousand, four thousand, or there's a top flight cruise at seven thousand.”

“Let's have that,” Mike said. “Only the best for us.”

“Luxury class.”

“Money to burn.”

“Our every whim catered for,” she cried to the blue sky.

“We'll eat off gold plates.”

Hand in hand, they considered this for a moment.

“Unless you'd prefer a month in Hawaii,” Dottie offered.

“Is that the one where you get sexy maidens meeting you on the beach with garlands?”

“On second thought, forget Hawaii.”

Mike gave his easygoing chuckle. “Anything you say, Dot.” He squeezed her hand as they left the brightly colored dreams behind. “Mind you, if you go off the cruise idea, Uncle Joe's always said we could borrow his caravan for a long weekend.”

“That would be lovely,” Dottie said.

She sounded as enthusiastic about the cheap caravan as the luxury cruise that existed only in her lively imagination, and Randolph had to admire her spirit. It might be nice for a man to share his life with such a funny, gutsy lady. It was the same spirit that he admired in Sophie, he reminded himself. Not that Sophie's lofty mind would have indulged in that crazy fantasy.

With regret he remembered that Dottie's fantasies too, must be dispelled. He had lingered as long as he dared. Now it was time to claim her for his country, and her duty. He stepped out from behind the tree, treading on a twig, its snap making Dottie look up quickly.

“Are you following me?” she demanded.

Then Randolph, the severe and practical man, was truly inspired.

“Yes,” he said. “I am following you-both of you. I had to be sure that you were suitable for the prize. A stay in a luxury hotel as guests of the Ellurian gov-tourist authority.”

“Elluria?” Dottie echoed, wrinkling her brow. “That's the place you were telling me about.”

“We're trying to promote it as somewhere to take the vacation of a lifetime,” Randolph said. “It's never been done before, which is why so few people think of traveling there. But we have everything, magnificent scenery, great art, history-”

“Disneyland?” Mike asked eagerly.

“No,” Randolph was forced to admit, “we don't have Disneyland. But we have Lake Bellanon, with its beautiful beaches. I think you'll both like it there.”

“Us?” Dottie asked suspiciously.

“It's been my task to find two people who would make best use of the prize. It has to be a young couple, so that as well as enjoying our hospitality you can tell us what Elluria needs to attract other young people. It will be everything you've dreamed of-money to burn, gold plates, your every whim catered for.”

If only, he thought, Mike didn't say, “Eee, Dot!” But he did. Randolph ground his teeth.

“It's too good to be true,” Mike went on.

“Right! Too good to be true,” Dottie said, showing an astuteness that dismayed Randolph. “In real life, things just don't get handed to you on a plate like this. I'm suspicious.”

“He can't be stocking a harem, Dot,” Mike pointed out. “Not if he wants me as well.”

“You don't know that. He's probably covering all the angles.”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind,” she said hastily. Randolph's lips were twitching. He'd divined her meaning at once, while Mike was still floundering around trying to believe she'd meant what he thought she'd meant.

“I promise you, it's all on the level,” Randolph said smoothly. “Wouldn't you like a free vacation, spending money, new wardrobe?”

Dottie drew a long breath at the thought of new clothes, but she was torn two ways, trying to equate this with his behavior to her earlier. Randolph understood her perfectly and his conscience smote him.

“It could be our honeymoon,” she said at last.

“No,” Randolph said hastily, “we have to leave at once.”

“But if we got a special license…”

Seeing disaster staring him in the face Randolph became even more inspired.

“I must make a confession, Ms. Hebden. The fact is that you two are replacements. The original prize winners had to drop out at the last minute. The celebrations are all arranged. When I return to Elluria tonight I must take you with me or I'll probably lose my job.”

“Tonight?” Dottie squealed. “And what about our jobs?”

“I promise to settle everything with your employers. The Ellurian tourist authority will provide temporary replacements, at their own expense. Generous expense. Your employers will gain on the transactions.”

“But we don't have passports,” Dottie pointed out.

“You will travel on Ellurian diplomatic passports.”

“A whole month's free vacation,” Mike mused. “It's a pity it couldn't have been our honeymoon.”

“But it can,” Dottie said triumphantly. “We can get married out there. Think what terrific publicity for tourism that will be.” She beamed at Randolph. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“Of course,” he said in a hollow voice.

It seemed that as he avoided one pitfall another opened at his feet. His conscience was troubling him more every minute. But he had no choice. At all costs, he had to get Dottie to Elluria, or his country would be at Harold's mercy, and that mustn't be allowed to happen.

“We can be married at once,” Dottie was murmuring, almost to herself. “Oh but look, it's nonsense. Things don't happen like this. We have to be realistic.”

“Perhaps you can be too realistic,” Randolph pointed out. “Take the chance life holds out to you.” The cunning of the serpent made him add, “Just think how mad Brenda will be when she finds out! Of course, by then it will be too late.”

“Oh, if only I could be there to see her face,” Dottie breathed.

“But you won't,” Randolph reminded her. “You'll be in Elluria, with Mike.”

“Let's go,” Dottie said at once. She jumped to her feet, her face shining with joy. “Oh Mike, Mike!”

She threw her arms about him and they hugged each other exuberantly. Randolph suddenly looked away. When he looked back he found Dottie regarding him, and he could have sworn there was accusation in her eyes.

Like all crown princes of Elluria, Randolph had spent some time in the army. There he'd learned lessons about tactics, strategy and intelligence gathering that stood him in good stead now.

Certain things were simple, like arranging two diplomatic passports. Sorting matters with Mike and Dottie's employers were tasks for embassy attachés. But keeping his two quarries in protective custody without arousing Dottie's suspicions further, demanded the skills of a policeman, a magician and a mother hen, and taxed Randolph's ingenuity to the fullest.

Whatever organizing skills Dottie displaying at the café seemed not to carry over into her personal life. Her packing was an exercise in chaos, and the number of times she stopped to remember, “just one more thing,” drove Randolph nearly demented.

Finally she made her appearance dressed for traveling in what she called “comfortable clothes.” These turned out to be a pair of short shorts which would give her future prime minister heart failure, were he to see them. Luckily Randolph had prepared for this disaster by having suitable clothing waiting on the aircraft.

At last he had them in a car on the way to the airport, and their attention was occupied by the excitement of the trip.

“What happens when we get there?” Mike asked.

“We get married,” Dottie said firmly.

“What, today?”

“It will take a few days for the paperwork to be complete,” Randolph said hastily. “In the meantime, why don't we celebrate with champagne?”

He produced glasses and a bottle of Bollinger from the car's mini bar, and the moment slid past. At the airport they were whisked through their passport checks with the minimum of fuss, and then onto the small luxuriously appointed aircraft, with its soft armchairs in a pale biscuit color.

“Where are the other passengers?” Dottie asked.

“You are Elluria's honored guests,” Randolph informed her. “This is a special plane, part of our hospitality.”

It was, in fact, the royal plane, which had been on standby, ready to leave at his command.

Dottie regarded him wryly. Something about this was all wrong, and she was growing more uneasy by the minute. But once they took off she became entranced with gazing out of the window at the sea, and then the coast as they reached France.

“Hey, look at that,” she breathed to Mike. Receiving no answer she turned and found Mike missing.

“He's in the cockpit,” Randolph explained, coming to sit beside her. “Knowing that he was interested in things mechanical, the captain invited him.”

“You fixed that,” Dottie said. It wasn't a question. She already knew that this man was a great fixer.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I needed to talk to you alone. Please Dottie, it's very important.” Having created his chance he found he couldn't use it, and was silent a long time.

“So important that you can't find the words?” she suggested.

“Exactly that. What I have to tell you is so extraordinary that at first you may not believe it. In fact, you won't believe it.”

“If I'm not going to believe it, it doesn't matter what words you use,” she said, trying to be helpful.

“Oh it matters. A lot hangs on this. You may blame me for…for various thing-”

“Well, I have a few things to blame you for, haven't I?” she said quietly.

She couldn't name the obscure sense of hurt that had troubled her since this morning. Nor would she say aloud that he'd deluded her with false magic, but the unspoken reproach was there in her eyes, and he colored.

“Please hear me out before you judge me,” he said.

When she didn't reply he took out a copy of Royal Secrets and put it into her hands. “Read page 8,” he said.

Frowning she opened at the page, and the first thing she saw was a large picture, captioned, Prince Randolph, The Deposed Heir.

At first she didn't believe what her eyes told her. It was impossible for this to be the man sitting opposite her. But gradually the truth of the likeness became impossible to ignore.

“But…you're Mr. Holsson.”

“I'm afraid he doesn't exist. I am-I was Crown Prince Randolph of Elluria. Until recently I was heir to the throne. Then it turned out that my father had never been properly married to my mother. In short, I am a bastard, and incapable of inheriting.”

“But what's that got to do with me?”

“Let's say you did your grandfather an injustice. Those tales weren't just the drink talking. You're a direct descendent of the royal house of Elluria.”

“Oh, get away with you. This is a windup, isn't it? Any minute now a bloke's going to start filming me for Candid Camera.”

“Dorothea, I am trying to be serious. This is not a 'windup.' Your royal descent goes back over a hundred years, to Duke Egbert, who was the king's brother. He married an English lady and went to live in England. They had one child, Dorothea, who married a man called Augustus Hebden, and you're their great-great-great-granddaughter.”

“So we're both called Dorothea. It's a coincidence.”

“It occurs in every generation, and we've had two Queen Dorotheas. It's a common name in the Ellurian royal family, and in yours I believe?”

“Well, there was my great Aunt Dot… How did you know?”

“Because I've checked the Hebden family and there's no mistake.”

“So if I'm descended from a duke, how come I'm running a greasy spoon?”

“Egbert was a spendthrift. He got through his wife's money, but managed to marry his daughter to a wealthy man on the strength of his royal connections. Then he spent his son-in-law's money, too. After that it was downhill all the way. And you are not running a greasy spoon. That's in the past. Now you are Her Royal Highness, Princess Dorothea, heiress to the throne of Elluria, and my fifth cousin.”

“We're related?”

“Very distantly.”

She stared. “You're serious aren't you? You staged this whole thing-”

“To get you to Elluria. Don't expect me to apologize. Without you the next heir is Harold of Korburg, and it makes me go cold to think of what will happen to my country if he gets his hands on it. Elluria is rich in minerals and Harold is greedy. He would sell the ground out from under us, and spend nothing on the people. You must become the queen. Anything else is unthinkable.”

“For you, maybe. Who gave you the right to kidnap me?”

“I didn't-”

“Oh yes you did. Don't play word games with me. You talked me onto this plane with a pack of lies.”

“Yes, I did,” he admitted. “That's how desperate the situation is. Dorothea-”

“Don't call me that. I'm Dottie.”

“Not anymore. For the past ten minutes we've been in Ellurian air space, and in this country you are Princess Dorothea.”

“Then listen to me, buster. Princess Dorothea demands to see the British consul.”

Randolph had grown pale. “Her Royal Highness's commands will be obeyed as soon as we land. In the meantime, I've arranged for some more elegant clothing to be on board. May I suggest that you attire yourself suitably for your first appearance before your people?”

Dottie looked at him and a hint of mulishness crept into her eyes. “You've got a nerve, dictating my clothes for me. I'll arrive as Dottie Hebden, because that's who I am. And if that's not good enough for you, the sooner you send me home, the better pleased I'll be.”

A steward appeared and addressed Randolph. “Sir, the captain says we'll be landing in a few moments.”

Randolph thanked him, and as soon as he departed said urgently, “There isn't much time. Please put the dress on. I promise you, it'll suit you. And your people will expect you to look the part.”

“Meaning that I don't look the part now.”

“No,” he said, suppressing a shudder.

“Good. Then they won't get any ideas about my staying here. I'll go as I am.”

“But Dottie-Dorothea-”

“Dottie will do. Shouldn't Mike be coming back here if we're landing?” She heard Randolph's sound of exasperation and said, “It wouldn't work, honestly. I couldn't carry it off. Giving people orders-”

“Is this the woman who wanted to be 'Authority with a capital A'?”

“In that tatty café, yes, but I couldn't give orders in real life.”

Before he could reply Mike returned from the cockpit, full of the things he'd seen and eager to share them with Dottie.

“Yes, love,” she said kindly. “We'll talk about it later. I want to tell you what this joker's up to.” Briefly she outlined what Randolph had told her, but with an ironic tone, managing to imply that only a madman would believe a word of it.

“We're going to be landing in a minute,” she said, “and there'll be all sorts going on.”

“What are we going to do?” Mike asked.

She took his face between her hands. “Mike darling, don't say anything. Just leave the talking to me.”

As she delivered the order she caught Randolph's ironic eye on her.

To Dottie's relief their arrival passed off quietly. The plane came to rest in a discreet corner of the airfield, steps were rolled up, and she descended, firmly holding onto Mike, straight to a waiting limousine. As soon as Randolph had joined them the journey began.

The light was fading and she could see little through the car's darkened windows. Even so, the sight that met her eyes after twenty minutes was breathtaking.

“That's the royal palace,” Randolph said, following her gaze.

The classically elegant building was nearly a quarter of a mile long, and was reached by a long avenue of ornate fountains. Two Z-shaped staircases led up the front. Wherever she looked Dottie saw windows filled with faces, proving that her arrival was already known. It was a relief when the car swung around to the side of the building, and a more discreet entrance. To her awe a footman stepped forward and opened her door, bowing slightly.

This was her, Dottie Hebden, being bowed to. Any minute she would wake up.

She allowed Randolph to lead her into the building, and had advanced some yards before she realized something was wrong.

“Where's Mike?” she demanded.

“My aide is looking after him. I give you my word, he'll come to no harm.”

“As long as he's ready to leave, with me, first thing tomorrow morning,” she said with more firmness than she felt.

As he spoke they were rising in a small elevator.

“It's the quickest way up to the state apartments,” he explained.

Dottie set her chin but said no more. When the elevator stopped she found herself in a small corridor, with three dark oak doors leading off. Randolph opened the largest.

“This is the rear entrance to your apartment.”

She found herself in a set of luxurious rooms that took her breath away. There was the royal reception room, the royal bathroom, the royal dressing room and the royal bedroom. This last one was like a small cathedral, with a ceiling that soared high above them.

“I'll bet this is murder to heat properly,” Dottie muttered.

“My mother always said the same thing,” Randolph agreed. “That's why you'll be glad of the four poster bed. The drapes keep out drafts. Now, allow me to present your maid, Bertha.”

A strongly built young woman with a cheerful face advanced and, to Dottie's horrified fascination, dropped a curtsy. Confused and distracted by this, Dottie obeyed the dictates of good manners and curtsied back. Bertha was aghast.

“I shouldn't have done that, should I?” Dottie muttered.

“Never mind,” Randolph whispered back.

“Can't you make her go away?”

“You have Her Royal Highness's permission to leave,” Randolph announced, and Bertha fled.

“Now do you believe that this will never work?”

Dottie said in despair when they were alone. “When do I see the British consul?” “You don't.”

“Ahh! I knew it. It's a con.”

“Your Royal Highness cannot deal with a mere consul,” Randolph explained. “The British ambassador will attend you.”

For some reason, that was the moment when she began to believe that this was really happening. The last of her disbelief vanished a few minutes later when the tall, elegant figure of Sir Ambrose Philips entered the room, and bowed to her. He was splendid in evening attire, glittering with ribbons and medals.

“My apologies for not being here earlier,” he murmured. “I was attending a dinner.”

“I'm sorry I dragged you away from it,” she said, suddenly horribly conscious of her shorts.

“On the contrary. I am honored to attend Your Royal Highness.” Sir Ambrose gave her a courtly bow.

“I'll leave you now,” Randolph said. “I'm sure you'd prefer to talk alone.”

As soon as the door had closed on him Dottie whirled on the ambassador. “What's going on here? Do you know?”

“Randolph has apprised me of the situation,” he admitted. “I need hardly say how glad Her Majesty's government was to discover that the heir to Elluria hails from the United Kingdom. The understanding between our two countries-”

“Speak English, will you?” she said frantically.

He abandoned his lofty mien. “Elluria is an important country, both in its position and its wealth. Some of the minerals to be found here are as valuable as oil. We have mining agreements that are vital to manufacturing in our country, but Harold of Korburg would tear them up and sell to the highest bidder. He has to be kept out and you're the person to do it.”

“Says who? There must be other heirs.”

“Perhaps there are, but nobody's found them yet. If you walk out, Harold will take over next day.”

“You say that, but I bet I'm not free to leave.”

“You are totally free. But if you leave, your country will suffer.”

“Which one?” Dottie asked urgently.

“Both of them.”

“And if I stay here, just for a while?”

“Then you would find the British government eager to reward you suitably.”

“Enough to buy a garage?”

“I'm sure there wouldn't be any problem about that.”

She drew a long breath, feeling herself on the brink of an abyss. If only there was someone to hold out a helping hand. But the only face that came into her mind was Randolph's, and she could no longer trust him.

“Oh well,” she said with a shaky laugh, “I used to think I'd like to be an actress. It can't be that much different.”