The princess shook her head sadly. ‘No. That was her own experience. She merely told the truth, but as if it had happened to Anna. She related her hideous tale bit by bit to the captain of the frigate that brought her back to England. Told him everything. She trusted this officer, grew very close to him, I believe. He is the one man who knows the depths of her degradation, is aware of the violence and anger she clutches to her and understands it. The one man who can love her.’
‘Except that he can’t,’ Sandilands objected, remembering. ‘Swinburne. Navy man. Married, I understand.’
‘Was. No longer, Commander. His wife died of the influenza last year. He immediately took advantage of the reduction in the naval service to resign his commission, to everyone’s surprise, and set off into Europe. To travel about and lose himself, no doubt. As men of a certain age with certain concerns do. I didn’t let him go. I have always taken an interest in the good captain, though he was becoming ever more difficult to track. Luckily he was in France latterly, where they know how to keep a record of visiting foreigners. And if you know the right man at the top of the right department — and I do — you can find someone without much difficulty.’
‘And he came when you whistled? He’s there with her now, out on the Atlantic? Swinburne?’ Sandilands could not disguise his concern.
‘Ah! You do not like to think that a fellow English officer has been sacrificed in this way?’ The princess’s good humour was wearing thin. ‘No sacrifice involved, believe me. I say again: he loves her. Now, let’s finish the champagne and congratulate ourselves on lives saved and a love affair rekindled.’
* * *
‘Just as well we put off that trip to the Riviera, sir. She’d have us tracked every inch of the way,’ Lily grumbled as they left.
‘Probably. Formidable organization she’s running, right in my bailiwick. I sometimes think she regards me as a not entirely to be trusted Steward to the Household. Useful in his way but better kept under close supervision. Not the sort of policing I was offered.’
‘Not the kind of policing I’m used to either. And not the kind the Chief Constable exposes his girls to in Lancashire, I bet,’ was Lily Wentworth’s summary as they entered Sandilands’ office.
‘I quite agree,’ was his easy response. ‘You’ve every right to feel tetchy. Life-threatening situations experienced twice in a week … consorting with murderers, spies, fornicators and bogus clergymen — enough to try any girl’s nerve. I quite understand. Well, just write up your notes, will you, sign your forms and you can be off. It is the weekend after all. So good of you to agree to stay on. Remember to charge your hours at the overtime rate. Look — I’ve had a campaign desk put over there for you to use.’ He pointed to a small, spindly piece of furniture. ‘It’s very much in your style, Wentworth. Light and manoeuvrable. And it folds, you see. When you’ve done with it, you can just leave it out of sight behind the door.’