From Henry Hilliard and Pete Bruno h.h.hilliard@hotmail.com This work fully protected under The United States Copyright Laws 17 USC 101, 102(a), 302(a). All Rights Reserved. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the Author's consent. (See full statement at the beginning of Chapter One.)
Author's Note: Thanks to all of you who have written to tell how much you're enjoying the story and please keep writing to us and watch for further chapters.
For all the readers enjoying the stories here at Nifty, remember that Nifty needs your donations to help them to provide these wonderful stories, any amount will do. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
Noblesse Oblige
Book 5 Outer Darkness
Chapter 7 The Convenient Marriage
Four figures could be seen in silhouette as they strolled across the gravelled expanse before the Sanssouci Palace. It was a hot day and they shimmered in the sunlight. One of the figures-- a woman--had opened her parasol and could be seen turning from left to right as she engaged with the other three. For an instant one could be forgiven for thinking that Frederick the Great was among their number, perhaps taking three guests on a tour of his canary-coloured pleasure dome but, on closer inspection, the monarch's ghost proved to be another woman and of a somewhat military bearing in a tricorn hat and carrying a tall stick and she was saying something to the two gentlemen, one fair and one dark.
"Nein, Stephen, Antibes is your private place; just for you boys it should be. For our own holidays, Mata and I might find somewhere we like." Stephen wrote that down on a list he was compiling.
Martin said: "I'm going to see Sir Danvers Smith when we return. I think we should all make new wills as well as seeing about allowances."
"Martin, I don't want your money and I do have an income of my own from Switzerland," said Mata. "But I do like to buy clothes; it is my one weakness," she added with a guilty smile.
"I can't take your money," said Erna, picking her English words carefully, "it would be unfair utterly."
Martin dismissed these objections with a wave of his hand. "No, I want to make sure if anything happens to me that all three of you are provided for. As my wife, Mata, you will be entitled under the law."
"What have we got, Stephen?" said Mata referring to the list.
"We've covered bedrooms--settled; displays of affection-- agreed upon; money--almost settled; your maid--settled; Mata's baby-- deferred..."
Martin said suddenly: "Were you two thinking of applying for naturalization as British subjects?"
"Natürlich, if I can, Martin," said Erna.
"I suppose I will, Martin, after we are married."
"It's just that if you do, Mata, you will have to renounce your German titles-- it's the law now."
"Oh?" said Mata, "Then I will think about it, if that is all right with you."
They wandered through the Potsdam gardens, talking about their plans in as concrete a way as they could under such extraordinary circumstances, and until came upon a little cafe where they sat in the shade.
"We must get our papers in order," said Mata. "We can't be married in Germany without them. At the Standesamt you will need your birth certificate and your Ehefähigkeitszeugnis, Martin."
"Good God, what's that?" asked Martin.
"A certificate to show that you are free to marry. Don't you have them in England? I have mine as a widow."
"Mala, you could ask the embassy to arrange it. I imagine it will take a few days to come from Somerset House," said Stephen.
"I have my passport," said Erna, "it is a terrible photo."
She removed it from her bag and opened it on the table. It wasn't a good photo and the resemblance to Frederick the Great was renewed.
"Erna, this says `Frau Komorowski'," said Martin.
"Ja, I was married to Komorowski. It was a big mistake; he was a real Schmuck."
"What's that mean?" asked Stephen.
"I can't tell you, Stephen!" cried Erna and her face lit up and she gave a huffing chortle. "But yours is sure bigger than Komorowski's!" Now Mata was laughing too and the boys looked at each other in mock horror.
Sir Eric Phipps was slightly surprised at Martin's sudden announcement of his engagement to be married and agreed to speak to the Consul about having the necessary documents sent express from London. "What is the government's policy on Jewish refugees, Sir Eric?" asked Martin.
"His Majesty's policy is not to have a policy, if one can be avoided, Lord Branksome. There has been a rapid increase in the number of Jewish refugees entering British ports since Herr Hitler has come to power. We are hoping that most will simply be transiting through to America or Palestine and many in the government are confident that things will settle down here and that the Jews will be able to return." He raised an eyebrow and Martin caught it. "We assess if they are likely to be a burden on the taxpayer but we leave the ultimate decisions in the hands of the Minister for reasons of compassion-- especially in the case of children."
"Well, Frau Komorowski-- or should I say Frau Doktor Erna Obermann, to use her academic name-- will be my fiancée's secretary and will therefore have paid employment from the moment she lands."
"That is in her favour then and did you mention a maid?"
"Yes Frl. Gertrude Probst."
"Well, the same should apply to her--but I can't guarantee this of course, but with you as her sponsor it should be relatively easy."
"If you don't mind me asking, Lord Branksome, was it your intention to get married the last time we spoke?"
"It was a somewhat sudden impulse and precipitated by the position in which Her Serene Highness found herself..." where upon Martin divulged a little of the story and he found that Sir Eric was all ears and even made notes.
"That is extremely interesting, Lord Branksome."
"Do you think the German government is involved with the Italians?"
"Almost certainly and that raises the stakes considerably. Please do be careful, your lordship."
"Oh I will and we will soon be safe in England."
A week passed with the family-to-be trying to do normal activities, which for Martin and Stephen meant sightseeing in the German capital. All four of them attended a concert of the Berliner Philharmoniker conducted by Furtwängler. It was a modern piece called Mathis the Painter and was rather too dissonant and plinky-plonky for Martin's taste. "Ja it is atonal," admitted Mata who had liked it, "and Herr Furtwängler was very daring to perform it."
"The Nazis disapprove of modern music," explained Erna "and have banned hundreds of works and they are trying to prohibit American jazz recordings entering Germany as well." Martin was shocked and, although he didn't care particularly should they have banned Herr Hindemith's composition of that evening, he thought with alarm of his own collection of popular music at home and was suitably outraged.
At last the papers arrived from England and, as there was no reason why the wedding should not proceed expeditiously, it was arranged for the following day. "Am I doing the right thing, Derby? I mean is it a sin to enter into a marriage when I love another?" asked Martin when they were in bed.
Stephen put his arm around him and kissed his forehead. "Only you can answer that, Mala. You are not betraying anyone or being deliberately cruel."
"But am I lying to God? I mean it is a marriage of four people, all of whom are leading sinful lives."
"Perhaps. It might not be too good if you were in line to be Archbishop of Canterbury. Do you believe in God?"
"No, not in that sort of God at any rate."
"But you attend church and have Mr Destrombe to dinner terribly often."
"He likes to eat. The Church of England is a social organization; it is part of the fabric of English rural life."
"Like poaching?"
"Something like that. I was going to say like the railways and I quite like the service-- the service of both. This marriage won't alter anything between us, Derby."
"No, I know that. I have my list. You know, if we have a baby it will change all our lives."
"Yes, but that would be a very nice change. The two of us are good, so perhaps four-- or five--will be even nicer--more people to share things with. I say, Derbs, you don't mind that I will be sharing some of my fortune with Erna and Mata, do you? And hopefully with a baby too and, well, the baby will be my heir and you won't be. That seems awful."
"Not a bit of it, Mala. I have my own money and how much can one want? Besides it will be our baby and our baby will be the heir to Croome."
"Yes, you're right, I'll think of it that way. Our marriage will be fairly unusual, but not as unusual as that of Lord Richard Poole in the 1370s."
"Oh?" said Stephen.
"Yes, Derbs, he is said to have taken his two favourites, Neville and Piers, to his bed and spurned and humiliated Lady Margaret. Her brothers avenged her and murdered Neville in the most horrible manner."
"How was that?"
"They seized him and strung him up by his own knitting."
"That's terrible."
"Yes, but one of the brothers took up with Piers and raised Richard's son as his own."
"Well, there you are; there's a lesson in there somewhere. Now get some sleep, it is a big day tomorrow."
It was just a small gathering at the Standesamt --the Registry Office. Mata looked very beautiful in a white linen day dress with a contrasting black belt and matching over-sized buttons on the left side of the bodice, which had a little cape on the opposite shoulder. A remnant of polka dotted silk formed the suggestion of a scarf. Martin meant to take in the details of her shoes and little hat, but he was too overwhelmed by nerves. Stephen stood up with him and efficiently produced the ring when required. Erna was her matron-of--honour and Friedrich gave the bride away. Carlo, Gertrude, Cole Porter and Sir Eric Phipps made up the rest of the party.
Martin hoped that he said Ja in all the right places and he was careful to fill in all the forms correctly, mindful of Thomas Poole in Cintra a century-and-a-quarter before.
In less than thirty minutes Martin emerged onto the pavement a married man and numbly wondered what cares and responsibilities this momentous change would bring.
There was a luncheon at the fashionable Eden Hotel and then Sir Eric and Friedrich had to return to their respective offices and Cole had to catch his train and the others walked back to the Adlon where Martin spent the first part of the afternoon writing to his friends and relations, trying to break the astounding news. The first was to The Plunger and Teddy, next to Aunt Maude and then to Daniel, Sir Danvers, Lord Delvees and finally to Mr Destrombe and Miss Tadrew in the village. He went down to the hotel lobby and sent the telegram that Chilvers received. Then he remembered Bunny and Dwight and was just starting to put pen to paper when the telephone rang. "It's Her Serene Highness, your lordship," said Carlo.
"We will have to abbreviate that, Carlo-- perhaps H.S.H.' or Her Ladyship'?" replied Martin jovially as he crossed to the room and took the receiver from the valet.
Martin's expression changed instantly when he listened to the instrument. He put it down and, turning to Stephen, said with urgency: "Derby, we must go at once to Mata's room; she has visitors."
They clattered down the stairs at speed rather than take the lift and went straight in. There stood Mata and Erna and three men.
"Herr Sauer and Captain Moller," said Martin with no pleasure in his voice. "May I ask the meaning of this intrusion?"
"Herr von Branksome," said Moller, "let me present Count Treviso from the Italian Foreign Office." Martin nodded curtly. "Herr von Branksome, as you are no doubt already aware, the Italian government has made a very generous offer to Her Serene Highness which would provide her with an ample income and insure that she was protected from those who would wish her harm."
"I don't see what that has to do with you, Captain Moller."
"The German government has a vested interest in the good order of all our European neighbours."
"Does that include undermining them?"
"I do not know to what you are referring, Lord Branksome. Her Serene Highness is a German citizen from one of our former ruling families and naturally she is of great importance to our government."
"I don't see how that could be, Captain Moller, my family no longer has a land to rule," said Mata, looking rigid with tension.
"Not in Germany perhaps, but they still have not renounced their claim to the throne of Albania, I believe."
"That has nothing to do with me."
"I don't quite agree, Your Serene Highness."
"Well it is a moot point," said Martin, "for Princess Mata is now my wife; we were married this morning."
Muller looked furious for a moment then recovered himself. "You may believe yourselves to be married, but the validity of that marriage may very well be challenged and the government may just have to annul it if it is shown that she was not free to marry again.
"I think not Captain Moller, for I had my Ehefähigkeitszeugnis in order," said Mata with a satisfied smile.
"But was the document sound, your Serene Highness? Were you not promised in marriage to Xheml Bey or perhaps indeed had already contracted such a marriage?"
"I had not married anyone!" cried Mata, her voice rising with emotion. "And even a promise of marriage to another cannot be a legal impediment to my present marriage --not that I made any such promise."
"You have perhaps heard of levirate marriage?" said Count Treviso speaking for the first time.
"What's that?" asked Stephen who had also been listening.
"Signore, it is the custom in some countries for a widow-- especially a childless one-- to become the fidanzata of her dead husband's brother. He must marry her and she must give her hand."
"That may be so," said Martin, "but it is not the custom or indeed the law in England and I don't believe it is in Germany either, so I don't see..."
"But it is in Albania, Branksome," said the Count.
"Well, even if such a barbaric custom exists in some out of the way place like Albania..." began Stephen.
"It could invalidate her Serene Highness' Ehefähigkeitszeugnis," said Sauer.
"I see," said Martin, suddenly adopting a conciliatory tone that surprised the others. "This is purely an administrative tangle, Mata dear," he said turning to her, "We must get this sorted out as soon as possible if we intend to remain in Germany. Is that not so Captain Moller?"
"Well, yes, it is..." he began, slightly on the back foot.
"And is there someone we can see to sort it all out? Perhaps there is a fine to be paid or perhaps we could engage someone to undertake it for us--the language barrier would make it hard for me. I don't suppose you, Captain Moller...or you Herr Sauer, undertake such commissions?"
"If it is only a matter of money," chimed-in Stephen, "surely we can reach an understanding, Captain Moller." Martin shot him an angry glance, making sure that this registered with the Germans.
Moller didn't know what to say for a moment and he felt that things were suddenly slipping from his control and the added suggestion of money had unsettled him. "Perhaps if you would like to discuss it tomorrow we could see."
"Excellent Moller!" cried Martin. "You German chaps are so much more efficient than our British officials. Shall we say tomorrow morning at the Prinz-Albrechtstraße?"
"No, no, not there," he replied hurriedly and wrote an address in Schöneberg on his card and passed it to Martin.
"Oh, I forgot, you had an appointment with your hairdresser, Mata. Could we make it in the afternoon, Captain Moller? My wife's permanent wave..."
Moller became very gallant, perhaps thinking of the money. "Shall we say at half-past five? Although Her Serene Highness' hair is indeed perfection."
Herr Sauer looked disgusted, but at the same instant understood that there might be money in it for him too. Count Treviso said nothing, but held himself in what he believed to be an attitude that women found irresistible.
"Would you gentlemen like a drink before you leave?" asked Martin. The others thought they would die but played along and champagne was produced and they chatted about the theatre with affected brightness for what was fifteen minutes, but seemed an eternity. At last they left, with Martin repeating his promise to see them the next day. He closed the door and waited until he heard the lift and when he turned round he found Mata was crying and Erna was comforting her.
"I have a plan."
"You are going to bribe them?" asked Erna, looking up from Mata.
"No, we are going to leave Berlin straight away."
Martin and Stephen went out and Carlo and Gertrude began to swiftly pack the trunks.
At seven o'clock the procession of the previous week was reversed as an elegant figure swaddled in white furs and with a hat shaped rather like a meringue with a veil, emerged from the Adlon and stepped into a waiting taxi. Strollers in Pariser Platz paused to watch. Porters wheeled the trunks and they were loaded onto the roof of the taxi and onto that of another into which stepped a servant carrying a final pair of suitcases. Directions were given for the Hauptbahnhof and for there the taxis proceeded.
A black Opel slid out from the kerb and followed them.
From the kitchen and emptying into the alley that led into the Behrenstraße, emerged Martin, Stephen, Erna and, lastly, Mata who was dressed much less ostentatiously, but no less elegantly, than her maid who had left a moment before through the revolving door with Carlo and the luggage.
A taxi was waiting and they headed south to Tempelhof. At the aerodrome there was a mammoth rebuilding project underway and an illuminated billboard depicted the new terminal: a gigantic curved building of forbidding severity that would dwarf all around it, including the aeroplanes. The taxi rolled to a stop and the four swiftly alighted and headed through the doors. There was considerable tension as they queued at the counter. Martin felt Mata squeeze his hand and looked down to see she was also holding Erna's. Stephen had their papers and tickets and presented them to the young man behind the counter and smiled radiantly. There was some initialling and a Germanic thumping of rubber stamps and then they were done. They turned from the counter with relief.
"Herr von Branksome," said a voice and Martin jumped. It was Sauer.
"Leave us alone, Sauer, we have a perfect right to leave; you have no legal basis to hold us in Berlin. I am a British subject."
"But the Prinzessin is a citizen of the German Reich, Herr von Branksome; I thought we were going to discuss this in a civilised manner and perhaps find a satisfactory outcome for us all."
"Nazi swine, I don't have to deal with you at all!"
"I think not; I only have to make a call to have your aeroplane grounded. It is then just possible that you and Herr Knight-Poole might leave but the Prinzessin and the Jewess will certainly have to stay."
"How much do you want?"
"In British pounds, I'm not sure. Perhaps we can discuss this outside."
Martin made Stephen stay with Mata and Erna and followed Sauer out through the doors into the dark where the building work for the new terminal had created a chaotic landscape. They picked their way over planks and piles of limestone blocks until they found a secluded spot by the head of a giant and bad tempered-looking eagle cast in aluminium that was obviously intended to be, when united with the rest of its body which could be seen lying next to it clutching a globe in its talons, an over-scaled feature of the new building.
"I have money," said Martin, raising his voice so it could be heard over the roar of the engines and he slit the lining of his coat. Sauer looked on in delighted surprise in the gloom as the wallet was produced. Martin took out ten five pound notes and thrust them at Sauer.
He snatched them and said: "The rest please, Herr von Branksome."
"No," said Martin.
"I think, `yes'," said Sauer and backed this opinion by drawing a snubbed nose Italian pistol from his pocket. It glinted unpleasantly.
Martin handed the wallet over but, just as he did, a sudden blow felled Sauer. It was Stephen who had come around the eagle with a piece of wood. Sauer had been stunned and went down on one knee but still held the pistol. He fired just as Martin sunk his boot into him and Stephen was struck. There was a second shot-- muffled-- and this time it was Sauer who crumpled like a pricked balloon. A man stepped into the dim light. "Are you all right, Poole?" he asked in English.
"Good heavens, Biffo!" exclaimed Martin. "I am, but are you alright, Derby?"
Stephen was holding his arm; it had been grazed and there was blood seeping through his jacket. "Yes, Mala, it's just a scratch as they say in novels."
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh I've been here for some months," said Bewley-Vance-Bewley, evading the question. "Vansitaart asked me to keep an eye on you."
Martin had seen little of his old school chum since their time in Intelligence during the War. "I say, we must have a drink at the Club with Custard," said Martin with phlegm that belied the drama of the situation.
"Righteo. When I'm back and you must have tea with Mother; she only mentioned your name just the other day; she saw you and Knight-Poole in the Tattler. I say, Knight-Poole, you were jolly handy with that piece of wood; I was too slow. Wouldn't do for lacrosse, would it Poole?
"You'd have kept your place in the team, Biffo."
Bewley-Vance-Bewley bent down and retrieved Martin's money and handed it back to him. "Help me with Sauer," he said, "and then please hurry to your 'plane. They won't find him before morning." Sauer was quite dead and they managed to tilt the giant eagle and place his body inside its hollow core. The gun was retrieved carefully with a handkerchief and also placed inside. Martin felt in his pocket and found Captain Moller's card with the address in Schöneberg written on the back. He showed it to Bewley-Vance-Bewley who read it, wiped it clean and placed it in Sauer's pocket, saying that would confuse the authorities.
"Thank you so much, Biffo," said Martin, "I really don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything, for God's sake, or we'll all be in the soup. Please catch your flight; we want you far away from here. Take my coat, Knight-Poole; it will hide the blood."
With that Bewley-Vance-Bewley melted into the shadows and the boys, with Stephen clutching his arm, picked their way across Hitler's building site and returned to the lighted departure hall where Erna and Martin's wife were waiting, white faced and anxiously looking at their watches.
The branch line train rounded the familiar bend and huffed into the station. A faint noise, heard above the engine, swelled. Martin couldn't make it out so he lowered the window and thrust his head out. There, on the platform and spilling down the tracks for some distance, was an enormous crowd of men women and children. "My God!" exclaimed Martin, "The whole estate has turned out to welcome us." The crowd caught sight of Martin and erupted in a cheer. "Look, Derby!"
There was a cheer for Stephen even though he returned from Germany still single and the ladies from the gymnasium perhaps cheered the loudest. The train slowed to a halt and Martin stepped down. More cheers. He reached into the compartment and, rather like a conjurer producing a rabbit from a hat, handed down Her Serene Highness, Princess Mata, now Marchioness of Branksome. The crowd erupted and hats were tossed into the air. Mata took Martin's arm and they made their way in triumph through the crowd-- a few of the bolder ones daring to slap his lordship on the back. At the gate a floral arch had been erected and the stationmaster, his brass buttons winking in the sun, collected their tickets for the London and South Western Railway-- a glance making sure they were for a first class compartment--and he touched his cap as the newly betrothed passed through the picket gate and into married life.
Mrs Captstick had driven Martin's Rolls into the yard and, as Martin helped Mata up into her seat, the Princess paused on the running board and smiled at the crowd who had surged around the vehicle and said: "I am very happy to be here. Thank you so much for the warm welcome." Someone in the crowd led them in three cheers and the car started slowly for the house with children and dogs running alongside it for some distance as Mata waved and smiled, until their legs at last grew tired and the Rolls Royce increased its speed and drew away from its pursuers.
Also glad to be back were Erna and the one-armed Stephen who assisted the aged porter, Carlo and Gertrude in seeing to the trunks and these and they with them were conveyed somewhat less ceremoniously up to the house in the old trap.
The slow clop of the horse was the first restful sound since their flight from Germany. There had been the roar of the KLM Fokker as it flew across Germany bound for Paris, every moment the escapees thinking the pilot might be made to turn back. Stephen was in some pain from his wound and did what he could in the 'plane's small lavatory to patch himself up. Martin related, in hushed tones, what had transpired at Tempelhof and of the untimely, although not unwelcome, demise of Herr Sauer. All the time they were wondering what had happened to Carlo and Mata's maid, Gertrude.
In fact Carlo and Gertrude had made it to the busy station and had the trunks successfully stowed before the occupants in the black Opel could prevent them. The train started immediately and it was not until it halted in Mannheim that the authorities boarded the train and sought them out. Carlo showed his British passport and Gertrude Probst her German one. They were all in order and Carlo explained that he was having a holiday with his fiancée. Gertrude on her part had exchanged Mata's furs and hat for her own more sober garments and the officials cursed Berlin, for there was clearly no fugitive Princess or British lord onboard the Nord Express and so it was that some hours later they crossed the frontier into the safety of the French Republic.
The others had been waiting for more than a day at the Gare de l'Est for the train and, rejoicing, saw it slide in on time with their two faithful servants safely onboard. Stephen had been patched up but had his arm in a sling. They were tired and dirty, but decided to wait at the Gare du Nord for the first train so as to leave for England as soon as possible.
The Calais train gave way to the breezy Channel ferry and it was with considerable emotion that the party watched as the white cliffs of Albion hove into view. "This rain-sodden little island, Derbs..." began Martin but found he was too choked with emotion to give full expression to his thought. Stephen held his hand as they stood by the rail. Mata too was tearful as she reached for Erna whose expression was intense but not readable. Then Mata slipped her free hand into Martin's and the four of them formed a chain which linked love, affection and hope, which had seemed but as brief candles in the outer darkness that was Europe, but which might yet blaze brightly in the free land on the other side of the narrow cordon of seawater.
The reception from the assembled household servants was no less moving and Martin wondered what Chilvers thought of it all, but would have to wait for the right moment to discover the very proper butler's thinking. A conference was immediately arranged in the Adam Salon. This was a small domed anteroom with a grey-ivory-and-pale green colour scheme and featured delicate plaster medallions and swags of antique origins. In the centre stood a round table and chairs by Linnell. The four sat down and Stephen produced his Potsdam list-- the agreement as to how the marriage was to work.
"We will have to go up to London in the next day or so, Mata," began Martin. "The servants there will be anxious to see us, of course, but I also must see Sir Danvers about legal matters. I'm hoping you will come, but of course you and Erna are free to come and go as you please and to develop your own interests." Mata and Erna said they would come.
"Do you want me to be the Marchioness, Martin-- I mean to step into the shoes of your mother and grandmother and everything?"
"I would like it, of course-- I would like it very much--but I don't expect it. You don't have to play that role if you don't want to."
"Oh, but I would love to!" She turned to Erna. "Imagine me being president of the Women's Institute!"
"Who would ever have thought it?" said Stephen with some sarcasm, "Though it can hardly make up for the loss of Weid-Neuwied and Albania."
"Not at all Stephen-- and don't tease. I will love becoming part of country life and to have a purpose after living in other people's houses and being stuck in a flat. Do you think the people will accept me, Martin?"
"You saw the crowd, Mata; they weren't lined up for me," Martin said, flatteringly, causing Mata to beam, "and Erna, what are your plans?"
"You need not worry about me, Martin," she said glumly. Martin was shocked.
"But I want you to be happy. Surely you can assist Mata or take on some committees yourself. Will you help me fight for a kindergarten?"
Erna nodded, but her eyes were downcast.
"Erna," said Stephen, "would you think of seeking a position at one of the universities? With your qualifications..."
"Would I be allowed to?"
"Of course, this is England. There is also the organization for Jewish refugees that Daniel Sachs belongs to-- he is now our new Member of Parliament and you will meet the Sachs again at dinner tonight as they are living here at present." The wheels in Erna's mind were turning over and she nodded a bit more enthusiastically.
"Mata," said Martin taking up the earlier theme, "I usually attend the 10 o'clock service of a Sunday. It is up to you if you wish to. Also, could I ask you to drop in at the infirmary in Pendleton? Old Grindling has been asking for you and I don't think he has much longer with us."
"Erna and Mata must have motorcars, Mala," said Stephen suddenly. Neither of the girls could drive, but Martin promised to teach them and purchase vehicles when the time came.
"I have my own money, Martin," said Mata. "The cheques will still come each month from Switzerland so I can buy my own."
"I will share with Mata," said Erna.
Martin didn't press, as he wanted to let them have some independence and dignity.
"I think we should have Chilvers in now," said Martin.
Chilvers arrived with the tea but was made to remain. "Have the rooms been arranged, Chilvers?"
"I have placed Her Serene Highness in the Celadon Room and Dr Obermann in the Prince Regent's Room which adjoins it, your lordship. There is also a dressing room and bathroom next to that."
"I think that bathroom needs bringing up to date, Chilvers. Mata, would you like to make some suggestions? If these arrangement don't suit, I'm sure we have plenty of other rooms to choose from." Mata and Erna expressed no concerns so Martin let that suggestion lapse too.
"Probst has been found a room that meets with her approval, your Serene Highness. Perhaps a call button could be arranged to link the rooms, your lordship?"
"That will be up to her Serene Highness, Chilvers. And Chilvers, Mr Stephen and I find our present rooms quite satisfactory and will be leaving arrangements just as they are, is that understood?"
"Quite understood, sir," replied Chilvers, raising an eyebrow imperceptibly and withdrawing.
After their tea they wandered over to the George V Dining Room, which had still been on paper when Mata had last been in England. They were in awe and laughed when Stephen played tricks with the coloured lights. It was good to hear Erna laugh. Chilvers was summoned again and was informed that there was to be a grand dinner in three days' time. "Will that give our guests enough notice, Chilvers?"
"I think that it may have been anticipated among the usual people," he replied, "and I believe that Mr Myles has already drawn up a tentative guest list that is only awaiting your approval."
"Good, I will have Cook in to discuss the menu," said Martin then caught another raised eyebrow from the butler. "I mean: Mata, will you and Chilvers discuss the menu with Cook and see the head gardener about the flowers?"
Martin had been right; Mata was delighted at being given the sorts of tasks that his mother had once undertaken and they next went to Myles' room to look at the list.
"Your Serene Highness, Dr Obermann," said Myles, "I have taken the liberty of..." he completed his sentence by directing their attention to the filing cabinet which had drawers marked with each of their names. "You may wish for me to act as your secretary, but of course that is up to you." Mata was quite happy with that, but Erna though she could manage her own affairs, but thanked Myles sincerely.
It was still afternoon, but the four travellers retired to their respective rooms to rest.
"Derby, how did that go?"
"As well as could have been expected, Mala. They have to find their positions like I did when I moved in here with you. Why don't you get Mata to rearrange the furniture in one of the rooms?"
"Why would I do that? Isn't the furniture convenient where it is-- I mean one knows where the comfortable chair is and where my gramophone is most convenient for winding without getting up and the tea table is within easy reach and all that."
"Yes, but ladies don't think like that, Mala. They enjoy changing things around, and often changing them back again too, and you must always say that it is much better' or very nice' no matter what you think and don't complain because you can't put your feet up on a stool anymore."
"I never knew marriage would be as dreadful as that," said Martin, "but I suppose it would help Mata put her stamp on her new home, just as my mother did."
"We must find an equivalent for Erna too; she, I suspect, is feeling quite displaced."
Martin was thoughtful and snuggled into Stephen, being careful of his bullet wound.
"Derby," said Martin after a very long pause. "Derby, don't go to sleep just yet, I have something to say; something that has been troubling me a great deal."
"What's that, Mala?"
"Derbs, when we decide that it is time to try for a baby, I don't think I can sleep with Mata, or with any lady for that matter. It wouldn't feel right and I don't think...well I don't believe...I mean I don't think I could summons up sufficient...enthusiasm...if you understand me."
"Why, it's easy Mala; it's like riding a bicycle and besides Mata is so nice she would make it very easy, I'm sure."
"It's not like a bicycle, Derbs, and you know it."
"Well, Mata and Erna entered into this marriage to have a child, Mala, and they would be very disappointed to hear of this breach of faith."
"That's just it, I want to have a baby too, but I want to have your baby, I've always said that. I want you to father the child; besides, you'd be better at that sort of thing-- you've had more experience with ladies than I have and the baby would be a little you, which is what I have always wanted. That way I could have my cake and eat it too!"
"But if it were a son, Mala, it would not carry on the Poole bloodline."
"That's a lot of nonsense. It would be legitimate and I would be his legal father and that's all that matters and besides, aren't you the true heir to the title through Lord Thomas' first marriage?"
"That would be difficult to prove in court, Mala, but if you'd like me to sire your offspring, I think I'm up to it, but we'd have to reach agreement with Mata and Erna as per the Potsdam Memorandum."
"Off course, Derby, your list, but I'm so glad you agree as the thought of it has been making me feel quite miserable."
Martin's misery was further lifted when he stripped Stephen of his clothes and Stephen once again proved his versatility by fucking Martin and then allowing Martin to spend his noble seed in his own insides, where it was not wasted, and caused Stephen to spill again, ruining the bedding once more.
At dinner that night were the Sachs (who had returned from London) and Myles and Miss Tadrew, up from the village. It was an informal and very pleasant affair, although the four remained dreadfully exhausted. Erna seemed brighter and liked the Sachs and went up to the nursery to see the girls and read to them in her accented English. In Miss Tadrew she found a kindred spirit and Martin though that Miss Tadrew had best dine frequently to help her settle in.
The planning for the big dinner went ahead, with Mata learning some of the ropes and seeing what was similar to and what was different from the great houses of her childhood on the Rhine. Martin found solace in his garden and was just wondering if his wife or Erna would like to make their own when he spotted one of Stephen's dogs digging up the crown imperials that he had planted for what he hoped would have been a spectacular effect at the back of the herbaceous border. He uttered an oath just as Mata and Stephen were returning from the tennis court. They came running over.
"Bad dog!" cried Stephen and the border collie bitch looked chastened.
"And she's rolled in something dead, Derby," said Martin, still angry.
The animal received another rebuke from her master and crouched down, looking terribly guilty for her illicit act of pleasure that humans failed to appreciate from some olfactory prejudice. When Martin looked up, Mata was laughing and this caused Martin to laugh too.
The dinner came and went and, of course, it was a great success with all in the district wanting to renew their acquaintance with Her Serene Highness and now the new lady of the manor and with quite a few who were anxious to see the modern splendours of the dining room. There would have to be another dinner soon and one in London too for their friends, thought Martin, and he realised what an asset to the table was a beautiful wife.
Mata visited the Infirmary where old Grinding was so delighted that he said that he would now live to 100, but it was not to be and he died the next morning.
Mata was invited to the homes of some of the local ladies, but she made it subtly clear that Mrs Komorowski, or Dr Obermann as she preferred to be called, should be invited too. Her Serene Highness was also to be found some afternoons in the Green Gables tearooms where she was known to select the shilling tea and to cross Miss Pettigrew's palm with sixpence in order to have her tealeaves read and where she had been informed by one who had The Gift, that the Princess would be lucky in love.
There was the trip to London. Glass, the butler at Branksome House, had not seen his masters since their hurried departure some weeks before and so the news of his having a new mistress-- and of Dr Obermann too-- was as much of a shock to him as to everyone else. "It will be very fine having a lady's touch about the place," was all he permitted himself to say in front of the other servants. When the arrangement for rooms became known, Lily, (now Mrs Beck) the housekeeper was able to put two and two together but kept the sum of such a calculation to herself because she was a discreet as well as an intelligent woman.
Martin and Stephen made a special trip to Chelsea to see The Plunger and Teddy before they came to dine that evening.
"We very much like Mata," said Martin, "and I think Erna might be rather fun if we can get her to open up a little."
"But that is hardly the basis for a marriage, Poole," said his oldest friend.
"I know, Plunger, but I need an heir and we all want a baby and, well, this presented itself as a ready-made solution, not to mention helping them escape their respective horrible fates in Germany."
"We are going to Antibes at the end of October, Archie, and we hope you and Teddy will join us as usual. It will just be us," said Stephen. The Plunger relaxed at this and thought for a moment that he might be able to cope with the seismic shift in their relationship and then had the pleasant idea of asking Erna to pose for some allegorical drawings he was making for a mural for the new Port Authority Building. She might do very well for Labour.
Teddy asked them to tell of their escape from Berlin and, as he was in the FO himself, Martin and Stephen felt that it would be all right to do so. Gertie, who was eaves dropping, let out a shriek when the part about Herr Sauer producing a gun was revealed and he rushed into the room to see if Stephen was alright and had to be allowed to inspect his arm (and Stephen obliged by taking off his shirt and flexing his bicep to Gertie' delight) and then there were hugs and lamentations until The Plunger grew annoyed and threw him out to where he resumed his position at the keyhole until it was time for cocktails and then the visit was over.
Sir Danvers Smith, who was now of `a good age', delegated a Mr Hogeboom to look into the matter of the new wills, but said that he would be delighted to accept the invitation to dinner and to meet her Serene Highness and it was only a few days later, just as they were making to return to Dorset, that Glass brought Mata an important-looking envelope. Mata rushed to find Martin. "I've been invited to take tea at Windsor with Queen Mary, Martin. What should I do?"
"Why accept of course. Why did she invite you, do you think?"
"Well she is a sort of cousin. Her Aunt Augusta was my father's first cousin-- she died during the War, but I just remember her. Her grandfather was your George III, I think. What should I wear, what should I talk about?"
The first of these questions was resolved and Mata departed for Windsor on the appointed day looking stunning in a grey woollen pencil skirt that dropped to near her ankles and the matching top and sleeves were ribbed with vivid scarlet stripes, like the veins on a leaf, and her belt, gauntlets and `Princess Marina' hat were in a darker tone. Martin was both proud and in awe as she left Branksome House to be chauffeured by Stephen who deposited her inside the castle and, trying to see as much as he could before he departed for the town where he spent the afternoon in the pub until it was time to collect her.
"She was a little bit frightening at first, Stephen," said Mata as they headed back to London, "but then she softened-- especially when we spoke German. In private I'm to call her Aunt May. She already knew of my marriage in Albania and I could tell she disapproved of that and was quite sharp about my uncle who arranged it. She confessed that her own marriage had been an arranged one but that it had turned out successfully. I responded by saying that the whole world knew that and she was pleased. Then we talked about relatives and that sort of thing. She asked me why I hadn't brought my husband with me!
"Stephen," she said, "maybe Aunt May is correct and that our own arranged marriage will be successful if given time, what do you think?"
Stephen gripped the wheel and was thoughtful for a minute then said: "I think there are no rules to predict such things. I have seen happy marriages sour and unlikely ones succeed. We are lucky that we don't expect the impossible, don't you agree? I've had my luck when I met Martin when I was just 15."
"You are a lovely couple; I only hope Erna and I can be as happy as you-- perhaps with a baby...?"
"That is something I think we should talk about. Shall we convene a meeting of the Potsdam Committee when we're back at Croome?"
"Is that what you call it?" laughed Mata. "Our marriage sounds like it is a bureau of the League of Nations!"
The four assembled in the Adam Salon. Martin shut the doors and began in a low voice. "At the time of our marriage it was agreed that one of the reasons for it was our desire to have children. Is that still correct?"
"I desperately want to have my own baby," said Mata.
"Your own, my dear? You will have to share it with three others."
"Of course, but you know what I mean."
"I would like a baby and would be quite happy to adopt one if I could," said Erna. "I want to watch it grow and hope that it loves me-- you can never be sure of that you know," she said nodding. "I don't think my mother ever really loved my brother and me-- or perhaps she didn't know how to show it. My father was the one who doted on me and would take my brother and me out canoeing on the lakes of Mecklenburg in a Faltboot- do you know what a Faltboot is? And in tents we often slept. My father-- a bourgeois lawyer--sleeping with my brother and me under canvas in the forest, I still find it hard to believe! I think that was the happiest time in my life. Yes, I want a child and I will love it like my papa."
"And I want a baby-- I love children," said Stephen. "Boy or girl, it will play cricket."
"And you know I want a baby and if possible an heir to all this, but a baby at any rate. If it cries too much I can see there are three other parents who can take it, although I suppose if it's your own you don't mind the crying."
"That's not true, Mala."
"Oh well, then Nanny can come and take it away," said Martin and then had to explain to Mata and Erna that he wasn't being serious.
Martin then took a big breath and confessed that he would prefer Stephen to be the father. He tried to do it as delicately as possible, but it still came as a shock and Erna and Mata had a rapid conversation in German and Mata had to wipe her eyes. "I'm only crying because I'm so happy," she explained and with that another clause was added to the Potsdam Agreement.
The plan was disclosed to Carlo as there would be some brief alterations to the boys' sleeping arrangements. What Carlo thought of it was unknown, except that to him it was vital that it was affected successfully. "You must rest, Mr Stephen," he kept saying as he massaged his shoulders like a boxer's trainer, "and I hope you're saving your strength." Carlo had Chilvers bring him an egg flip and then Stephen was tucked up in bed for a nap and Carlo banished Martin who went to work in the garden where he found one of Stephen's dogs had caused the death of a clump of Thalictrum diprocarpum and, thus discouraged, went for a drink at The Feathers.
When he returned Stephen was awake and Carlo was massaging his balls. "This liniment is just what you need," he said squeezing some more onto his palm.
"It doesn't half sting, Carlo."
"That must mean it's doing good."
Martin took the tube and read: Spong's Epsom Equine Emulsion'. "Carlo, this is for horses!" he cried, "It says equine use only'."
"What does `equine' mean your lordship?"
Martin made a disgusted noise. "Didn't you see the picture of the horse on the tube?"
"Yes, of course; that's why I thought it would be good for Mr Stephen. I'm sorry sir, I will wipe it off at once."
"No, Carlo, I rather like it now; keeping going," said Stephen grinning and shaking his vitals.
It was late in the evening when the delicate mission was to be undertaken. Martin was sitting up in bed reading The Postman Always Rings Twice when Stephen emerged from the dressing room wearing a dressing gown over the lemon silk pyjama bottoms but was otherwise naked. "Are you coming across to Mata and Erna's room, Mala?" asked Stephen in an earnest whisper.
"I don't think so, Derby; I'm happy just to remain here. I will see you tonight?"
"Yes of course after I have...afterwards," replied Stephen. He looked a little nervous, but manfully turned the doorknob and was gone.
Martin tried to read on for ten minutes then threw the book aside and picked up a Georgette Heyer and its title, The Convenient Marriage, was not lost on him. He continued with Miss Heyer for half an hour, with several pauses to consult his watch. He then closed his eyes, still sitting up. When he opened them an hour and five minutes had elapsed and there was still no sign of Stephen. He sighed and turned out the lamp and vowed to go to sleep. He was in a light doze when he heard the bath running. Fifteen minutes later Stephen, still damp, climbed into bed. "Oh, sorry to wake you, Mala."
Martin turned on the lamp and sat up. "How did it go, Derbs?"
"Oh fine, no problems, Mala. But it wouldn't be right for me to discuss it, of course."
"Naturally," said Martin, "a gentlemen shouldn't...Derby what's that?" he said pointing to a mark on Stephen's buttocks. "It looks like teeth marks."
"Oh that would be Erna," said Stephen and rolled over to go to sleep.
Martin was very puzzled about what had transpired in the room across the passage but the dictates of being a gentleman compelled him to hold his tongue and so slid into an uneasy slumber.
Thus it continued for more two months, with Stephen, pampered and massaged by Carlo like a racehorse, discreetly slipping across to the girls' room at Croome or down the passageway in London and then returning tight-lipped to Martin, but Martin was not neglected and Stephen made sure he did not feel so. Besides, there was the routine of life that rolled on about them. There were Martin's board meetings, with the economy showing some signs of improvement during 1934 and the handsome directors' fees were very welcome. In fact Martin received more offers of directorships now that he was married to royalty and so he accepted the ones Daniel told him too. He began idly to think about buying a new Rolls and Stephen, between his egg flips and massages from Carlo, encouraged him in this.
Sachs himself had decided to build a new house at Lesser Branksome and Martin was delighted to be involved in this project. "If I'd have bought an old manor house, the neighbours would say I was trying to become something that I'm not. Now they will just say that I'm a vulgar Jew, so I can't win." Martin assured him that this was not so, but had to privately concede that this was probably how many people thought.
Sachs had had some local successes. A new housing estate had been gained for the outskirts of Bournemouth and the bypass road at Wareham would make a big difference to Tatchell. At long last the Ministry of Health had promised the money for the kindergarten and maternal health centre. Erna and Sachs put their heads together over this of an evening.
Then there was the holiday to Antibes where the astonishing news of Martin's marriage was broken to Mrs Chadwick and Mme de Blezon. Martin was upbraided for not bringing the Princess with him and he found that he had to promise that he would, although this was in violation of the Potsdam Agreement.
Mrs Chadwick proved to be very interested in conditions in Germany and Martin and Stephen gave her their impressions and those of Sir Eric Phipps, without mentioning his name. She, in turn, gave a concise account of the crisis in France with the Stavisky affair and the resignation of Edouard Daladier under pressure from fascist leagues. "Dark forces are all around us, but let's talk about something else," she said at last, refilling their cups and forcing a smile and then she did just that, launching into a scathing run down on all the new arrivals in the district and how she had successfully pressed the management of the two new hotels going up to contribute to her various charities. "Antibes is changing," she said in a matter of fact voice, while Martin and Stephen hoped fervently that it would never join the rest of the sorry world.
They had not been back many weeks, but they had been busy weeks, with the four of them singly and together up to London and down to Croome and where Mata had been particularly preoccupied in rearranging the furniture in the Red Drawing Room, when a meeting in the Adam Salon was called.
Mata was glowing. "I think I might be pregnant," she announced and clutched Erna's hand. Martin and Stephen were overjoyed and kissed her in accordance with the guidelines. Martin clapped his hands and began: "Well this calls for..."
"Vait!" cried Erna. "Ich auch, glaube ich. Me also."
There was a horrified silence and then Martin turned, open mouthed to Stephen who at that moment bore a guilty expression that very much reminded Martin of a border collie who knew that he had just rolled in something.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAL-_fjrT3I
To be continued. Thank you for reading. A special thank you to Lucie for her editing. If you have any comments or questions, Pete and I would really love to hear from you. Just send them to h.h.hilliard@hotmail.com and please put NOB Nifty in the subject line.