A Dangerous Disguise by Barbara Cartland

window."
    With the thick blinds down she had no way of knowing where she was. They seemed to travel for a long time, and she tried to remember the journey yesterday, when she had been brought here. That had seemed like an eternity.
    At last they stopped. As she got out she realised that she was in another courtyard, but this one was elegant and well built. She had no time to look around before she was directed through a door and into a corridor. It was plain but clean and pleasant – not a prison, she thought.
    They walked for a long time, through corridors that grew lighter and better furnished, then through rooms with thick carpets and luxurious furniture.
    Still Ola did not know where she was, but she knew it was not the place in Whitehall where she had been before. It was too much like a palace.
    A palace!
    "Is this - ?"
    "Just keep going, miss."
    They had reached a little ante-room, furnished with chairs upholstered in crimson damask. On the wall was a small mirror with a gilt frame. The sight of herself horrified Ola. Despite her attempts to tidy up in the bathroom, her hair was dishevelled. She had slept in her clothes, and looked it.
    But it was more than untidy clothes. She had been through hell and her face showed it. There was no beauty there that she could see. Just a pale, tortured woman drowning in misfortune and anguish.
    One of the men pointed ahead.
    "You go through that door," he said.
    There was nothing to tell her what she would find on the other side.
    She pushed open the door slowly and went into a poorly lit room. It seemed to be very large, and furnished with dark oak furniture. Red crimson curtains hung at the window, and a deep red patterned carpet covered the floor.
    At the far end was a desk at which sat a little old lady, absorbed in writing something. She was tiny, and dressed in black except for a snowy white cap on her head, from which long streamers floated down her back.
    At first the little woman seemed unaware that anyone had entered the room. Then she raised her head, revealing a plump face and little eyes.
    Ola gasped.
    It was the face in the official photograph that she had seen in the Imperial Hotel.
    "Your Majesty!" she said, dropping into a deep curtsey.
    She stayed there for what seemed like ages, until at last she heard the Queen say,
    "Hmm! All right, get up."
    She did so. Queen Victoria looked her up and down with a disconcerting shrewdness in her eyes. When she spoke, the words were shocking.
    "So you're the spy who's trying to assassinate me?"
    "No," Ola said frantically. "That's not true – " she drew in a sharp breath as something dawned on her. "And Your Majesty knows it's not true."
    "Indeed? How do I?"
    "Because you see me alone, and kept your eyes down while I walked across the floor. If you thought I was dangerous you would never have taken your eyes off me."
    "Hm! And you think that proves you innocent?"
    "No, Your Majesty. It merely proves that you believe me innocent."
     
    "Not necessarily. If you'd tried to attack me I think my godson would have protected me." The Queen raised her voice. "You'd better show yourself, John."
    The Duke stepped out from behind the hangings.
    Ola stared at him.
    His godmother! Of course! Why had she not realised?
    The next moment she fainted.
    She awoke to find herself lying on a sofa, with the Queen of England sitting beside her, tenderly dabbing her forehead with a scented, lace handkerchief.
    "Good," she said briskly when she saw Ola's eyes open. "John, has that tea arrived?"
    "The footman is just bringing it now, ma'am."
    Ola knew she was dreaming when she felt herself being supported by the Duke, while the Queen held a cup of tea to her lips.
    "Now," said the Queen seating herself and regarding Ola sternly, "John has told me the most incredible story I have ever heard, and he has sworn to me that, unlikely as it looks, you are innocent. For my own part, I do not regard impersonating royalty as innocent."
    "It was only meant as a