Freya was not present. I knew she was with the Graf and Grafin, Tatiana and Gunther, and from the sounds without it appeared that the great Sigmund had arrived. The company began forming into two lines as, with the sound of trumpets, a group of men in uniforms of blue, with plumes in their helmets and swords at their sides, came into the room.

In their midst was a man slightly taller than the rest. I could not see him clearly for my view was obscured by people in the line.

Now the party was moving towards us. I noticed that everyone was standing very still, their eyes cast down; so I did the same.

They were moving along ... the Graf on one side of this illustrious personage and Freya on the other.

I began to feel a little dizzy. There was something very unreal about this. I thought: I must be dreaming. This is not really happening.

For there he was, standing before me. Conrad ... my lover. Conrad whom I had never forgotten although I had tried to deceive myself into thinking that I had.

"This is Fraulein Ayres, who teaches me such good English." Freya was beaming, proud of me ... proud of him ... her face alight with joy.

I curtsied as I had seen the others do.

"Fraulein Ayres," he murmured. It was all there, the voice, the look, all that I remembered. His bewilderment was as great... perhaps even greater ... than my own.

"You are English," he said. He had taken my hand. Mine was trembling. He was staring at me. "I understand that you are a very good teacher."

Then he passed on. I felt as though I were going to faint. I must recover myself. Vaguely I heard him speaking to someone else along the line.

I wanted to get away. I wanted to escape from this room and think over what I had just discovered.

When he reached the end of the line, he took Freya's hand and they went into the centre of the hall to lead the dance. People started to fall in behind them.

Someone was at my elbow. It was Gunther.

I stammered: "Count Gunther ..."

"Countess Freya asked me to keep an eye on you."

"She is such a dear girl," I replied. "But perhaps I should not speak so of the Countess."

"It is true," he said. "She speaks highly of you too, and she is anxious about you. She told me that she insisted that you come to the ball. May I have the pleasure of this dance?"

"I don't really know your dances, but thank you."

"This is easy. Come ... just a few steps and then twirl."

"Did the Countess tell you you must ask me to dance?"

He admitted it.

"Well, then you have done your duty."

"Not duty," he replied with a charming smile, "a pleasure."

"I think I should retire after this. It was so good of the Countess Freya to insist on my coming ... but I really feel I should not be here."

He had drawn me onto the floor and I found I was danc­ing easily.

"You are doing splendidly," he said. "Look at Countess Freya. She will make a charming Grand Duchess, do you not think so?"

"I do. When will the marriage celebrations take place?"

"Not for a year, now the Duke is recovering. At least I hope." He looked a little wistful and it occurred to me that he was quite taken with my young Countess.

I wondered whether Conrad was too.

Why had he given me a false name? He must have decided that he did not want to betray his identity. Why had he pretended to be the Graf's equerry? Had he? Had I assumed that? He had not contradicted it. I felt very uneasy and suddenly terribly sad.

I wanted to get away from this ball now. I could not bear to see him there. People surrounded him. Of course they did. He was the heir to the dukedom, the most important man here. This gathering was in his honour, although it was only a small ball because of the Grand Duke's illness, but there must be a celebration of some sort because the Duke's heir was coming.

He would ignore me, of course. I hoped he would. How could I face him in this room?

I must get away quickly.

I chose my opportunity. It was not difficult. I slipped away, but as I did so I saw him glance my way. He was smiling and talking and went on doing so.

I felt heartsick. What a fool I had been to fall in love with the first man who crossed my path! I should have had more sense. And how easily I had fallen into the trap he had laid for me! Easily come by and therefore not valued over much.

But what a man he was! He was like the hero of a legend. I remembered I had thought of him as Sigurd when I had first met him. A Norseman. A Viking commander. That was what he had looked like then. Now in his uniform he looked more than ever like a hero of legend. He was outstanding among all the people there. He was everything that I had tried to shut out of my mind.

I should never have come here. It was a foolish thing to have done. What could I do now? I must go away—that was clear. I must forget why I had come here. I must go back to England. I could stay with Aunt Grace. I must live quietly and unadventurously. It was the only way not to get hurt more desperately than I had already been.

I sat down by my open window. I could see the lights of the town, the bridge and the river winding like a black snake through the town. I had grown to love the place; I had grown to love Freya. I would never forget it and there would always be an ache in my heart when I thought of it.

And him? Would I ever forget him? I had told myself that I had forgotten him. I would not allow myself to think of him. I had tried to forget that interlude, to tell myself it had never really happened; I had refused to admit even to myself that he was constantly in my mind and that I could not rid myself of those flashes of memory when I saw so vividly scenes from that time we had spent together. Secretly I had always known that I should never forget him. Conrad the deceiver, Sigmund the heir to a troubled dukedom, betrothed to my little Freya.

 They would marry in due course. That was irrevocable. They were bound together. That was what he had meant when he had said he could not marry me.

There was a footstep in the corridor. Someone was at the door. The handle was slowly turning.

And there he was, looking at me.

"Pippa," he said. "Pippa!"

I tried not to look at him. I said: "I am Anne Ayres."

"What is this? What does it mean?"

I retorted: "What are you doing in my room, er— What do I call you, Baron?"

"You call me Conrad."

"What of the great lord Sigmund?"

"My ceremonial name. Sigmund, Conrad, Wilhelm, Otto. They gave me a large supply. But, Pippa, names are unimportant. What of you?"

He had come across the room and taken my hands. He had pulled me to my feet and held me against him. I felt my resistance slipping.

I could only say: "Go away. Go away, please. This is no place for you."

He had taken my chin in his hands and was looking into my face. "I searched for you," he said. "I have been in England. I came back for you. I was going to take you away with me ... by force if necessary. I couldn't find you ... and then in desperation I came back here ... and here you are. You came to find me, did you not? While I was searching for you, you were searching for me."

"No—no. I did not come here for you."

"You are lying, Pippa. You came for me, and now we have found each other we shall never part again."

"You are wrong. I shall not see you again. I shall go back to England. I know who you are now and that you are betrothed to the Countess Freya and that your betrothal is tantamount to marriage. You cannot escape it. I have learned something of your problems here. There is Kollenitz, the buffer state. You need its help and you have to marry Freya because you could never deny the marriage, but you know all this and you know now that I shall have to go home."

"This will be home to you now. Listen, Pippa, you are here. We have found each other ... never to part again. We'll be together. I'll find some place where we can make our home."

"There is an unoccupied lodge in the forest nearby," I said with a touch of bitterness.

"Don't speak of it. It won't be like that. I love you, Pippa.

Nothing can change that. As soon as I had gone I knew how much. I should not have left when you did not come to the station. I should have come back for you and made you come with me. It is the only way for us. But you came to me. It was clever of you to change your name. Better for no one to know that you are Francine's sister. But you came here... . My dear, clever Pippa. This is different from anything that has ever happened to either of us. You know that as well as I do. We are going to be together now ... no matter what happens."

"You have taken me by surprise."

"As you have taken me, my love," he answered and he was kissing me fiercely, and in my thoughts I was at once transported back to that firelit room in the Grange. I wished I were there at that moment. I wished I could forget his involvement with Freya. I wanted so much to be with him.

"The most wonderful surprise of my life," he said. "You here ... my own Pippa ... and never, never going to leave me again."

I was aware of the intensity of his passion and how ready I was to meet it. I remembered so much from that other occasion. Instinctively I knew that he was a man who had never learned to deny himself. There was so much I knew about him. And I loved him. It was no use trying to convince myself otherwise now that he was here ... close to me ... holding me in his arms. ... I could never forget him. I was a fool, for I realized the hopelessness of our situation. I was terrified that here, now, my resistance would melt away as it had on that other occasion. I had to try to think of Freya. Suppose she came in and found him here? She might not notice my absence but she would notice his. Everyone would notice it. What if she came to look for him? She would never look for him in my room, of course. But what if she came to me ... what if she found me in the arms of her future husband?

The situation was dangerous and impossible.

I drew away from him and said as coolly as I could, "You will be missed in the ballroom."

"I care nothing for that."

"Do you not? The heir to all this. ... Of course you care. It is your duty to care. You must go back and we must not see each other again."

"You suggest the impossible."

"What use can it be?"

"I have plans."

"I can guess the nature of those plans."

"Pippa, if I go now will you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"We meet tomorrow. In the forest, shall we say? Please, Pippa, I must talk to you. Where? Where?"

"There is only one spot I know in the forest."

"Then we shall meet there."

"The hunting lodge," I said.

"We'll meet there and we'll talk and we'll talk."

"There is no more to be said. I was misled. Perhaps it was my fault. I did not ask enough questions. I accepted you as some equerry ... some servant of the Graf ... and you did not attempt to enlighten me ... and you must have known that I had no idea who you really were."

"It seemed of no consequence."

I laughed rather bitterly. "No, I suppose not. You proposed to amuse yourself during your brief stay in England. I understand that perfectly."

"You do not understand. You do not understand at all."

I was alert, listening. "The music has stopped," I said. "They will have noticed the absence of the guest of honour. Please go now."

He had taken my hands and was kissing them with passion. "Tomorrow ..." he said, "at the hunting lodge. At ten o'clock."

"I cannot be sure. It is not easy for me to leave. You must remember that I am employed here."

"The Countess said that you came as a sort of favour and that she had to please you or you would leave."

"She exaggerated. Remember, I may not be able to come."

"You will," he said. "And I shall be there ... waiting."

I drew myself away from him, but he caught me again and held me fast. He kissed my lips and throat. It was so like that other time that I feared for myself.

Then he had gone.

I turned to the window and looked over the town.

I remained at my window for a long time without noticing the passing of time. I was back at the Grange, living through those hours I had spent with him, and which I had deceived myself into thinking I had erased from my mind. Then suddenly I heard the town clock strike midnight. That would be the end of the ball, because it was to finish at that hour on account of the Grand Duke's illness. I could hear the commotion below which signified that the guests were leaving. Ceremony would accompany him wherever he went, except of course when he was away from home, living incognito.