An Uncrowned King Chapter 8 Part 5

“How can we, when you haven’t a lady at the head of affairs? You might let yourself in for most horrible awkwardness. I don’t even know whether it would be proper for Madame O’Malachy to bring her daughter. You can’t go compromising yourself in the eyes of Europe in this way. Don’t think of giving balls until you are married, unless you like to get Mrs Sadleir out from home, and introduce her as your aunt and the natural head of your establishment.”

“I’m certain she would never come,” said Caerleon, gloomily. “But after all,” and his face brightened, “perhaps it is as well to wait for a week. If I can tell Nadia that I have come to some conclusion on the question of initiating temperance legislation, it may please her, so I will set to work at once. I am going to send to England for some books I want. I don’t know whether there is anything you would like me to order for you at the same time?”

“Give me the list, and let me write,” said Cyril, quickly. “You have a secretary now, Caerleon, and you mustn’t go sending orders to tradesmen with your own royal hand. It’s making yourself too cheap.”

But writing to a London bookseller was an inconsiderable trifle compared with the work which Caerleon proceeded to undertake as a necessary consequence of his promise to Nadia. Cyril showed no inclination for the inquisitorial rambles he meditated, and he was therefore obliged to secure the services of the detective whom M. Drakovics had recommended, and who spoke English sufficiently well to be of use. Under his guidance, the King paid surprise visits to different parts of his capital at various hours of the day, mingling freely with the people who thronged the cafés and there spent their time in drinking brandy and discussing politics. It was in vain to attempt any disguise, for the Thracians knew their sovereign’s height and figure too well for anything of the kind to be successful; but they are a polite nation, and when Caerleon came among them incognito, they did not appear to recognise him, perceiving that he wished to acquaint himself with the characteristics of the national life. Perhaps they were also a little flattered by the interest he showed in their favourite pursuits, for they were always ready to talk, and through the medium of his escort he obtained a great deal of valuable information, the result of which went far to convince him that Nadia was in the right, and that temperance legislation of some kind was a crying need of the country. There seemed to be no effective restraint on the sale of spirits, and during the last two years more especially the vendors had reaped a golden harvest. The feeling of uncertainty and unrest caused by the revolution, and the delay in obtaining a king, had disposed the people to indulge in much talk and speculation on political subjects; and to enjoy this to its fullest extent, it was natural that they should resort to the cafés, where coffee proved inadequate to quench their patriotic thirst. That some change must be made in this state of affairs if the country was to prosper, Caerleon was not slow to recognise, and the wisdom of his decision was confirmed by the statistics which M. Drakovics obtained at his request from Government officers all over Thracia; so that the subject cost him much anxious thought during the week which preceded the municipal ball at the Hôtel de Ville.

For Cyril, also, this was a period not devoid of anxiety. In spite of all his precautions, the secret of Caerleon’s admiration for Nadia had become public property. The disclosure was mainly due to an American journalist who was supposed to be writing up the minor Courts of Europe for the benefit of aspiring New York belles, and who had hastened to Thracia as soon as he heard of the accession of a bachelor king, and taken up his quarters at the Hôtel Occidental. At the table d’hôte he fell in with the O’Malachy family, and was immediately captivated by the cosmopolitan charms of Madame O’Malachy. From her he learnt all that there was to be learnt about the new sovereign, and not improbably a good deal more; and since nothing is sacred to the New Journalist, he worked up all that he heard into what he called “A Real Royal Romance,” for the columns of the paper he represented. The details caused great excitement among the heiresses of the Fifth Avenue, and filtered gradually back, through the medium of English and Parisian newspapers, to those of Bellaviste, where M. Drakovics, after reading them, made Cyril’s life a burden to him.