by Joan Wolf
Charity said, "Harry thought the man was honest because he was an army officer who had fought at Waterloo."
Augustus said, "Those are impressive credentials."
Harry said, the bitterness still evident in his voice, "That is what he said, at any rate. I never did anything to check on him."
The Prince looked rueful. "I have always thought that one of the more inefficient characteristics of human beings is that wisdom can't be passed from one generation to the next. It seems that as a species we are doomed always to learn the hard way." He smiled at Harry. "The important thing, however, is the learning, and I am sure you have done that, Harry."
"I certainly have," Harry replied fervently.
"You are welcome to remain here in Jura for as long as you wish, and I will write your father accordingly," Augustus said.
Suddenly Harry felt better than he remembered feeling since he left that wretched gaming hell. "Thank you . . ."
As he hesitated, Charity said firmly, "Gus."
"I have to get used to it," Harry said, his cheeks flushing bashfully. "But thank you, Gus."
The Prince nodded and glanced at his wife.
Charity immediately said, "Luncheon will be in an hour, Harry. I will see you again then."
Harry jumped to his feet. "Of course. I will go to my room and er . . . rest."
The Prince said humorously, "You needn't do anything that drastic, Harry. But I would like to be in private with your sister for a few moments."
Harry strode to the door. "Certainly, certainly." He turned and glanced at the couple on the sofa. Charity's eyes were sparkling with amusement and suddenly he felt comfortable again. "I'll see you later, Char," he said, and went out.
Charity turned to face her husband. "What did Papa say?"
Augustus began to fold the letter. "He is in agreement with me that the emperor will not take military action against Jura. In fact, he is astonished that such a possibility was even mentioned."
She said slowly, "I suppose the emperor thought he had nothing to lose."
"Perhaps," he replied grimly.
"What did Papa say about the possibility of Austria imposing tariffs on us?"
"He said that Britain will honor its treaty with us, and if Austria imposes tariffs on Jurian goods, then England will place a tariff on Austrian goods."
Charity raised her arms over her head. "Hurrah!"
Augustus laughed and said, "I could use a cup of coffee."
After she had poured his coffee, he drank half the cup, then said, "Now, on to more serious matters. What the devil am I going to do with your brother?"
Charity smoothed a fold of her riding coat's full skirt and said thoughtfully, "Do you think it might be possible for him to act as a sort of assistant to Emil? It was a terrible blow to Harry that Napoleon was defeated before he was old enough to join the army. He wanted my father to purchase a commission for him when he finished Eton, but Papa insisted that he go to Oxford first." She clasped her hands loosely in her green velvet lap. "Harry has always wanted to be a soldier. I'm sure that is one of the reasons why he was so easily duped by that dreadful man. He would be thrilled to work with the Marshal of Jura."
There was a sharp line between the Prince's brows. "I can't just appoint Harry to Emil's staff, Charity," he said impatiently. "Those positions are filled by men who earned them."
"I know that, Augustus, and I didn't mean that Harry should be part of the military staff. Perhaps he could act as Emil's secretary."
Silence. Then the Prince said reluctantly, "Well, I'll speak to Emil about it."
She gave him a warm smile. "Thank you, Augustus. Tell Emil that he doesn't have to keep Harry if the arrangement doesn't work out."
"All right." He sighed. "I confess, I had much rather have your brother here at court than your sister."
"I couldn't agree more. When are Franz and Lydia arriving, anyway?"
He put his empty cup on the table. "Within the week, I believe."
Charity said with rising enthusiasm, "Do you know, Augustus, having Harry here might work to our advantage. I can pretend to be so happy to have my brother and sister with me here in Jura, and you can be kindly and say how nice it is for Charity to have her family around her, and it will actually look as if the emperor did us a favor by appointing Franz."
He was looking at her attentively. "Do you think so?"
As they both knew, appearance counted for everything in the embattled world of diplomacy. The emperor's appointment of Franz had been perceived by that world as a deliberate insult to Jura's Prince. If Augustus could turn that insult around and make it appear to his advantage, then the emperor would be the one to look foolish.
Charity said, "Why don't we have a big reception to welcome Lydia and Franz? We can invite all the other ambassadors and their wives and all of your government ministers. And Harry of course."
A slow smile was spreading across Augustus's lips. "Charity, you are wicked. That is a brilliant idea."
Her own smile exploded. "Do you think so?"
"I do. Talk to Stefan about it." He glanced at the clock that was on the mantel and got to his feet. "I'm late for a meeting. I'll talk to Emil and let you know what he thinks about taking on Harry."
"All right."
She remained on the sofa, the velvet skirts of her coat spread around her, and watched him go out.
Two days later, Lydia and Franz arrived in Julia, and Franz immediately called on the Prince to present his ambassador's credentials.
Augustus received his cousin in the small audience room that was part of his private apartment. A large Chinese vase, which Napoleon's marshal had missed, stood in front of the window, and a crystal chandelier in the style of Louis XIV hung over a large gilt-trimmed table that had two chairs set on one of its long sides. Franz was standing behind one of the chairs, facing the door, when Augustus came in.
For a moment the two men looked at each other in silence. Then Franz said, "Do you want to murder me?"
"Not at all," the Prince replied. He came into the room and regarded his cousin gravely. He did not hold out his hand.
"What can I say to you, Gus?" Franz said. "What I did was abominable. I know that. My only excuse was that Lydia had me in such a state that I would have done anything to get her into bed with me."
"You put me in a damnable spot," the Prince said mildly. "If I had to cancel the wedding, the country would have been in an uproar."
"I wasn't thinking, Gus," Franz said ruefully. "At that point, I'm afraid that another part of my anatomy was in control."
The Prince, who vividly remembered his own torment when he had not been able to approach Charity, finally relented and held out his hand. Franz came swiftly around the table to take it and the two cousins stood for a moment, hands clasped, looking into each other's eyes.
Then the Prince loosened his fingers and Franz stepped back. "I'm sorry, Gus," he said with apparent sincerity. "Thank God you were able to save yourself from my folly. Marrying Charity was a brilliant stroke."
The Prince nodded.
"She may yet prove to be a better consort for you than Lydia," Franz went on. "She is so young that it should be easy to train her to be the sort of wife that you want."
The Prince, who had once had the same idea himself, laughed.
Franz said soberly, "If you will find it too uncomfortable to have me attached to your court, I will go back to Vienna. I confess that I accepted the emperor's appointment because I wanted to return to Jura, but I will go away again if that is what you wish, Gus."
The Prince knew very well that Franz was trying to disarm him. If Augustus had been unwilling to accept Franz, he would have protested to the emperor when the appointment was made. Franz knew that his seemingly generous offer was perfectly safe.
"Nonsense," the Prince said. "Of course I will not be uncomfortable having you attached to my court." His gray eyes narrowed. "Unless you have come bearing more threats from the emperor?" he added.
<
br /> Franz laughed and shook his golden head. "I know you well enough to know that threats will never sway you, Gus. I told that to the emperor as well."
"I am glad to hear that."
Franz reached out to touch the Prince's arm in a gesture of affection. "You never change, Gus. Even when we were boys, once you set yourself a course of action, nothing on earth could prevent you from following it."
The Prince did not reply.
Franz's eyes became very blue. "Lydia is with me, you know."
The expression on the Prince's face did not change. "Charity assures me that she will be happy to receive her sister."
There was a pause, and then Franz smiled. "I know we can't be to each other what we once were, Gus. But I hope we can still be friends."
The full force of Franz's charismatic charm was trained on the Prince, who recognized the deliberation with which it was done but could not help responding to it. "Of course we can, Franz," he said. "Of course we can."
That night Augustus told Charity about his meeting with Franz. She had been sitting up in bed reading a book when he came into the room wearing his dressing gown and slippers. He had not spent a night in his own bed since he and Charity had become lovers.
"Stefan told me that you saw Franz today," she said, closing her book and putting it on the table beside her bed. She had not seen Augustus since they had breakfasted together, and she was anxious to hear how the meeting had gone.
"I did." She watched as Augustus went around to his side of the bed, took off his dressing gown, and got in under the covers next to her. He usually wore only his drawers to bed, having got out of the habit of wearing a nightshirt during his years in the mountains, and his upper torso was naked. He stretched his long body out comfortably, folded his arms behind his head, and looked up into her expectant face.
A fire was burning in the fireplace but still the room was cold, and he had only pulled the blankets up to his waist. Charity, who had her warm velvet robe on over her nightgown, said, "Aren't you freezing?"
"No. I'm comfortable."
She looked at the lean, powerful, recumbent body next to her in the bed and felt a sense of amazement that he was actually there. She wondered if she would ever stop feeling this way. Perhaps, after we've been married for twenty years, she thought with wry humor.
"Well, what happened between you and Franz?" she asked.
His blond hair was tousled from when he had pulled his shirt over his head, and it hung over his forehead like the forelock of a little boy. She thought it looked sweet, a sentiment she would never confide to him in a million years.
He said, "It was very civilized. Franz presented his credentials to me and I accepted them."
All thoughts of his forelock vanished. "That was all?" she said incredulously. "You must have had some sort of a conversation!"
His face took on a distinctly sardonic look. "We spoke for perhaps five minutes, during which time Franz did me the honor of saying that he knew I would not be intimidated by threats."
"Anyone who knows you knows that," Charity said scornfully. "Didn't he say anything at all about eloping with Lydia?"
He shrugged his bare shoulders, which were much stronger-looking than one would expect from one of his slender build. "He told me that he was in such a fever of love that his judgment was overcome by his passion."
He sounded amused, which for some reason annoyed Charity. "It wasn't funny when it happened," she snapped.
He raised an eyebrow at her tone of voice. "I realize that, Charity," he replied. "It is just that Franz is usually so self-possessed that it was strange to hear him admitting to such an emotional excess."
This comment made her feel even more annoyed than before. "I don't know that I would call love an emotional excess, Augustus."
"It is if it causes one to do harm to one's country." She was finding his reasonable tone more and more irritating. "I have forgiven Franz—I even think that his actions worked to my own benefit—but I simply cannot understand how he came to do what he did."
"He was passionately in love with Lydia," Charity said with annoyance. "Like Paris with Helen of Troy."
"Yes, and we all know how that affair turned out, don't we?" he said ironically. "Fortunately, I had enough sense not to plunge Jura into war in order to retrieve Lydia."
Frustration added fuel to Charity's growing hostility. How could she argue with him? Everything he was saying was perfectly sensible. He spoke as a prince, whose love life was governed by his duty to his country. She wanted to throw something at him.
He reached up a hand and captured a strand of her hair, pulling her head down to his. "Mmm," he said. "You smell so good."
Out of nowhere, Princess Caterina's words dripped like poison into Charity's mind: Augustus's primary duty to his country is to produce an heir.
One had to admit that he was certainly trying his best, Charity thought resentfully, and for the first time ever, she felt resistance to him stiffen her body. She wanted him to say that he loved her, that she was the most important thing in the world to him, that he would have run away with her just as Franz had run away with Lydia.
I would run away with you, Augustus, she thought. I would do anything for you.
"Kiss me," he commanded.
After a brief hesitation, she rested her lips lightly on top of his. He let go his hold on her hair and pulled her down so she was lying on top of him. The familiar sweet dizziness of desire began to seep into Charity's blood. Their kiss deepened.
She lifted her head and whispered, "Would you kiss Lydia like this?"
"Never," he replied, rolled her over so that he was on top, and began to kiss her again. Charity closed her eyes and surrendered to the passion that was swelling in her loins.
But after he had fallen asleep, instead of snuggling up next to him as she usually did, she moved to the far side of the bed and curled up into a ball. Was all this intense lovemaking about begetting an heir?
After all, he had never once said he loved her.
21
Two days before he was to leave for Lake Leive to spend Christmas, the Prince held a reception to welcome Count Franz Adamov to Jura. It was a glittering affair attended by the entire ambassadorial corps as well as a number of members of both houses of Jura's diet. Franz and Lydia arrived a little late, and as they alighted from their coach, Franz stood for a moment in silence, regarding the lighted double-fan staircase before him.
As Lydia took his arm, he turned to her and said, "I have always thought this to be the most beautiful palace in Europe."
Lydia lifted her face, framed by the sable of her velvet hood, and smiled. "It is much smaller than Schönnbrun."
"Smaller, perhaps, but more perfect."
The new ambassador and his wife climbed the well-lit staircase and entered into the two-story-high Banqueting Room, which was already filled with guests. One lackey took their coats and another announced their arrival. As their names were pronounced, a hush fell upon the assembled company and everyone turned to look at the door.
Franz had expected this first meeting with his countrymen to begin awkwardly, but he was perfectly confident that he could carry it off. He felt Lydia's fingers tighten on his arm and he walked her forward, allowing everyone to see what a stunning couple they made. In his first, lightning-quick survey of the room he had located the man that he most wanted to speak to, and now he guided Lydia in the direction of Count Boris Heusse and his wife.
"Count," he said with his most charming smile as he stopped beside the small, thin, bespectacled man who was one of Duke Anton's best friends. "How nice to see you again. My father asked me to bring you his greetings."
The count's voice was a little stiff as he made a small bow and replied, "That was kind of him, Franz. How is Anton doing?"
"Very well, thank you, sir." Franz turned to the short, plump pigeon of a woman who was the count's wife and bathed her in the radiance of his smile. "It is wonderful to be back in Jura."
No woman had ever been able to resist that smile, and the little countess was no exception. "It is nice to have you back, Franz." She looked at Lydia and the warmth faded from her face. "Countess," she said.
Franz took his wife's hand into his. "Please don't blame poor Lydia for our escapade, ma'am," he said with an engagingly rueful look. "I was the one at fault. I simply swept the poor girl off her feet."
The plump little countess tried and failed to look severe. "You were very wrong, Franz. You behaved very badly. You could have had the entire country in an uproar."
Franz looked contrite. "I know. I could have broken Gus's precious treaty with Great Britain. But he managed to retrieve the situation and, in truth, I cannot say that I am sorry that I stole his bride." He raised Lydia's hand to his lips and kissed it.
She turned her angel's face to him and smiled.
The countess sighed and said wistfully, "Ah, love. It has its own imperatives, does it not?"
Franz's voice deepened. "I knew you would understand, Countess."
Count Heusse said in a gruff voice, "Let me take you around the room, boy. It might make things a bit more comfortable for you."
Franz gave his father's friend his most boyish smile. "Thank you so much, sir."
"Nonsense," the count grumbled. "It is the least I can do for Anton's son."
Count Heusse's sponsorship did indeed break the ice, and as Franz and Lydia moved from group to group they were almost universally welcomed. Anton had always been popular with the diplomatic community, being a part of it himself for so many years as Jura's ambassador to Austria, and most of those present actually knew Franz better than they knew the Prince.
Franz was talking to Viktor Becker, the president of the lower house of the diet, when a stalwart older man in livery announced from the doorway, "His Royal Highness Prince Augustus and Her Royal Highness Princess Charity."
Everyone in the room turned to the door. The men bowed and the women curtseyed as Augustus and his wife appeared at the doorway. Augustus made a small gesture indicating that they could rise, and advanced into the room, Charity at his side. She gestured and someone stepped up to join her. To his surprise, Franz recognized Harry Debritt, his brother-in-law.
