Max glared, but the general simply smiled and shrugged before moving on with the procession.
“We have to talk,” Susannah muttered to Max, keeping her smiling gaze on the couples ahead of her.
Something was bothering him. He was so tense that she could almost feel his frown in the muscles of his arm. She did not, however, think that the scowl was for her. He was silent for a minute or two, but then muttered, “Yes. I must find out what is going on. Stay together, you and your friends. Do not allow yourselves to be separated. I will come to the princess’s rooms as quickly as I can.”
She had to be satisfied with that, mysterious and worrying though it was, because Olivia soon pleaded weariness after the journey, and the welcome broke up.
The chamberlain hurried over from a corner of the room, where he had been in conference with the baron. He was a portly fellow with a supercilious expression beneath his powdered wig, dressed in a particularly showy version of the green and gold castle livery. In his arms he cradled an elaborately carved and painted baton, presumably his badge of office. He bowed to the princess and, at a word from the prince, turned to lead the ladies to their rooms.
As Susannah was about to follow, Max caught her arm. “Remember,” he said, “stay with the princess. Do not allow yourselves to be separated.”
She nodded, feeling more and more worried. The captain had not struck her as a man given to foolish alarms. A foolish disregard of danger was a more likely fault. As they left, she noticed the baron watching them carefully. The baroness must have slipped away earlier, for she was not to be seen.
Twelve
Susannah knew that she had been mad to agree to this adventure. She was supposed to be the sensible, responsible one. Olivia always agreed to be helpful. It scarcely mattered what was suggested. Olivia would agree to any mad scheme if she thought it would please others. And a scheme like this? Pretending to be a princess? How could anyone expect her to resist?
As for Aunt Augusta… When Mama had told her to watch out for Aunt Augusta, Susannah had originally thought it was because of the old woman’s health. She’d thought she was supposed to make sure Aunt Augusta didn’t overtax her strength, not make sure she didn’t go off on some harebrained, madcap adventure. She hadn’t realized that white hair did not mean common sense. If anything, it seemed to mean the reverse.
No. Susannah gave herself a mental scold. There was no point in trying to shift the responsibility. The blame for this adventure did not belong to them. It was her own fault. She could have prevented it if she had really wanted to. Instead, she had allowed herself to be swayed by the prospect of furthering her acquaintance with a handsome, laughing officer. She had no business giving in to this attraction, a purely physical attraction, no matter how strong. That admiration had been added to the attraction—admiration for the way he could combine his own sense of responsibility with a sense of humor—did not absolve her. She had her own duties. The failure was hers.
Her spirits found no encouragement on the long walk to their chambers. They passed through a huge, vaulted chamber that belonged to the Middle Ages, with a stone floor and painted medallions of strange beasts on the walls. The sort of beasts that lived in nightmares. The medallions themselves were outlined in red, the color of blood. The groins of the vault rested on pillars topped by grotesque figures with hideously distorted faces. Whether they were threatening her or merely mocking, she did not know.
When they finally left that room of Gothic horrors, they entered a more modern corridor that was only marginally more cheerful. The high ceiling was covered with elaborate white plasterwork that could be considered pleasant, even elegant, but the walls were lined with paintings of battle scenes, huge paintings with larger than life-sized figures. The battles had doubtless been victories for Sigmaringen since they were commemorated in the castle, but the scenes were full of the dead and dying. Occasional groupings of chairs, presumably for those who enjoyed contemplating bloodshed, were covered in brocade in the same shade of red that had decorated the Gothic medallions.
The windows of the corridor opened onto an inner courtyard paved with flat, gray stones. No color enlivened the courtyard, but an excessively large fountain in the middle sent up fierce jets of water for the entertainment of those who chanced to look out.
Eventually they reached a broad staircase decorated with statues of ancient and imposing deities, all in chilly white marble. This led them to still another corridor, bright with more plasterwork surrounding tall windows overlooking still another courtyard.
The steady tapping of Lady Augusta’s cane marked their progress. Susannah walked beside her, worried that the pace set by the chamberlain might be too rapid for the old woman, but Lady Augusta showed no signs of weariness. Instead, she looked about her with lively interest.
Finally the chamberlain stopped before a pair of gilded doors, which were promptly pulled open by the footmen who waited in the hall.
“Your chambers, Highness,” said the chamberlain.
Olivia entered, with Susannah and Lady Augusta behind her, to find two strange women awaiting them. They were a sour-faced pair, but dressed far too finely to be servants. Olivia turned a questioning look on the chamberlain.
“May I present Madame Kroeger and Madame Glantz.”
The two women curtsied.
“They will serve as your ladies-in-waiting,” the chamberlain continued. “They will occupy the rooms on either side of yours so that they will be available whenever you need them, and we have also provided a maid for you.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. “And my own ladies?”
“Rooms will be found for them elsewhere in the castle.”
“No,” said Susannah flatly. She was going to panic any moment now, but she fought to keep calm.
The chamberlain, who seemed astounded by this rebellion, glared at her. She flushed slightly at the realization that she was probably not the one who should be objecting. She needed to remember that it was Olivia who took precedence now. She was not even certain that the chamberlain did not outrank her in this palace.
Before he could speak, Olivia raised a hand to silence him. “No,” she said, not even sparing him a glance. “That will not do. I prefer to have my own ladies beside me. You may find rooms elsewhere for these women. I have no need of them.” She indicated the sour-faced ones with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Both women stared at her in outrage, perhaps at being referred to as women.
The chamberlain recovered and smiled condescendingly. “You do not understand, Highness. Baroness Herzlos chose these ladies for you herself. They have been provided to help you learn our customs.”
Olivia turned a look of affronted astonishment on the chamberlain, a look of regal assurance. The silence stretched out uncomfortably before she spoke. “It is clearly you who do not understand. When I express a preference, those who serve me know enough to consider it an order. Those who do not understand that do not remain in my service.”
The chamberlain blanched. That threat was clear enough. “Of course, Highness.”
Without even looking at them, Lady Augusta waved a hand at the waiting ladies, who stood there in silent fury. “You may leave.”
Noses in the air, the ladies did so. One of them hissed to Lady Augusta, “The baroness will hear of this.”
“That presumptuous upstart? She will indeed,” replied Lady Augusta, feeling no need to keep her own voice down.
The chamberlain, obviously torn between his desire to serve those currently in power and his concern for his future, stood there as if his feet could not decide on the correct direction in which to carry him.
“You too,” said Lady Augusta, waving a hand in the direction of the door.
He fled behind the two women.
No sooner had the door closed behind the shocked trio than Olivia collapsed into a chair with a gasp. “I can�
��t believe I did that.”
“You were magnificent!” Susannah collapsed with laughter, her relief bordering on hysteria. “I didn’t know you had it in you to be so, so arrogant!”
“Neither did I,” said Olivia. “The thought of being left in here with those two horrors gave me strength. I pretended I was Cleopatra. Remember that scene where she dismisses her servants? The way she held her head?”
“Well, I must say you played your part with aplomb. I was quite convinced that you were born to rule.” Lady Augusta smiled approvingly as she set aside her bonnet and removed her gloves. “And I am pleased to see that you have been given appropriate quarters.”
Susannah looked around. It really was a regal setting, a cavernous and extravagant room. The walls were crimson with gilded trim. Gold brocade covered the chairs and hung at the windows. A gilt chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the paintings on the walls were set in elaborate gilded frames.
Regal, but not precisely inviting. The paintings were dark, but not dark enough to obscure the subject matter—some of the less cheerful Biblical scenes. On one wall, Abraham raised his knife, prepared to sacrifice Isaac, and on the opposite wall Roman soldiers enthusiastically engaged in the Slaughter of the Innocents. Still, the tiled stove radiated welcome warmth.
“This is exciting, is it not?” Lady Augusta settled herself in one of the chairs, “However, I did not care for that baron and his sister. They looked at us with positive dislike. In addition, they were far too presumptuous. The idea of the baroness taking it upon herself to decide who the princess’s attendants should be!”
“I was terrified when that man said they were to be my attendants,” said Olivia. “I couldn’t imagine what I would do if you weren’t with me and I had to be with strangers. And they looked so grim. Positively witch-like.”
While they talked, Susannah recovered herself and wandered around the room, examining the windows, which looked onto the gardens, and the doors. One led to what must be the princess’s bedroom, an almost equally large room, this one with bedding, draperies, and upholstery in the green and gold that were the Sigmaringen colors. Another door led from the sitting room to a smaller, more modest bedroom for an attendant, and a second modest chamber was entered from the princess’s bedroom.
It was an arrangement that could be kept reasonably secure. Hardly the sort of thing she normally thought about, but Max’s obvious concern on the way from the station had made her doubly nervous.
“Well, it appears that we can be on either side of you,” she told Olivia. “That is good. And there are keys in the doors to the corridor, so I assume we can lock them.”
“Lock them?” Olivia straightened up in alarm. “Why would the doors need to be locked?”
“I don’t know, but Captain Staufer said that we should stay together until he comes to explain. I don’t want to alarm you, but I think that when we were at the station, the general received a message that upset him.”
“Heavens! I knew that something was going on here.” Lady Augusta shook her head, but looked more thrilled than distressed. “This is turning out to be even more exciting that I had expected.”
Susannah looked at the old woman with fond exasperation. It was no wonder that her mother had offered to let Susannah and Olivia accompany Lady Augusta on this trip. It was less an offer than an order, she realized. They had been sent to rein the elderly woman in—or try to do so. So far, Susannah had been markedly unsuccessful in that endeavor, and “exciting” did not begin to describe this adventure.
Footmen appeared with the trunks, followed by maids to unpack them and more footmen bringing pots of coffee and trays of pastries. The three women remained in the sitting room, sipping and nibbling and occasionally giving orders about the unpacking until they were finally alone. Then there was nothing left to do but wait for Max.
Thirteen
Max wanted to smash something. Preferably Hugo Herzlos’s face. That, however, did not seem to be a possibility at the moment.
He had spent a nightmarish hour with the prince and the Herzlos clan, while Conrad burbled happily about the princess’s beauty (“So much lovelier than her portrait”); the count grumbled about the reports that the princess had spoken in Schwäbisch (“It will just encourage the reformers”); and Helga had returned to make her usual not-quite-offensive comments (“Somehow I expected a princess to be more regal”). Hugo had soon disappeared, however, and Max was increasingly worried about what he might be doing.
When Max finally escaped the royal chambers and managed to confer with the general, his mood plummeted further. The situation was far worse than he had feared. This masquerade had put Lady Susannah—all the women—in real danger, and it was his fault. They were in danger because he had thought the masquerade would be fun.
Fun! He must have been mad.
Not entirely mad. Part of his motive had been purely selfish. He had wanted the opportunity to further his acquaintance with Lady Susannah. That part he could not regret. She was extraordinary. Such beauty! Not the fragile prettiness of Lady Olivia of the golden curls. No, underneath that prim-and-proper pose of hers, Susannah had the wild beauty of a warrior queen and the spirit to match, only waiting to be set free.
And she was no fool. She had seen that there would be problems facing them and had not hesitated to warn them. He was the one who had been a fool, promising her that there would be no danger, that he would be able to protect her.
He berated himself for failing to recognize the seriousness of the situation. How could he have been so stupid? He should have seen at once that the princess’s disappearance had to be more than the childish tantrum of a spoiled brat. He did not care about himself, but until now, he had never put a woman in danger, and that was tormenting him.
Susannah was in danger because of his rashness. The others too, of course, he reminded himself. Now the only thing to do was to get them out of here—not just out of the castle, but out of the country.
And then he would never see Lady Susannah again. That would be just as well for her, since he was unlikely to get out of this with his head still attached to his neck. An exaggeration, but the best he could hope for was utter disgrace. Losing a princess and attempting to palm off a pretender was hardly the sort of behavior to be approved by a ruler. Conrad was no tyrant, but there were limits to what a prince could accept, even from a boyhood playmate. But still… Damnation! He did not want to lose Susannah. Not when he was just getting to know her.
The princess’s suite was in the south wing of the inner courtyard, almost as far as it could be from the royal chambers without being obviously insulting. Max saw Helga’s jealous hand in this, but it was just as well. The isolation would make it easier to spirit the women away.
When he finally reached the corridor, two footmen were standing outside the door to the suite, but none were at any other doors. Good. That meant the rest of the corridor was unoccupied. His own men of the Royal Guard stood watch, two at either end of the corridor. That should keep out any intruders, so the women were safe enough for the moment.
When he reached the gilded door, he stopped the footman who was about to open it. “Wait. Do not open the door yet. Knock first and wait for a response. No one is to enter these rooms unless the princess or her ladies give permission. Is that understood?”
The flicker of surprise in the footman’s eyes was followed by a nod. That would have to suffice. Even if these men had been put here by Hugo, they were unlikely to disobey a direct order. And he didn’t want the women to be surprised by unwanted visitors.
Max rapped sharply on the door.
Lady Susannah opened it so quickly that she must have been waiting right there. She started to speak but noticed the footmen and stepped back. Good. She had enough sense not to trust the castle servants. He entered and closed the door firmly behind him.
She had not stepped back very far. Not because s
he wished to be close to him, but because there was no room. They were in a tiny antechamber, which had barely enough room for two people. She was looking up with a mixture of irritation and worry, probably because it had taken him so long to get here.
He breathed in the scent of her. Something floral. Roses? But not just roses. Not just sweetness. There was something else. Thorns? Did thorns have a scent? If they did, then that was the scent of Lady Susannah—roses and thorns.
Through the doorway, he saw Lady Olivia and Lady Augusta sitting up, blinking their eyes as if they had been dozing in their chairs. He put an arm around Susannah’s shoulders—the closest he dared come to an embrace—and led her over to join them before he sat down himself.
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped before him. “I am sorry. Problems have arisen. Things are not quite as we had thought.” He tried to think of a way to phrase it without frightening them. He couldn’t. “We—the general and I—think we should be able to smuggle you out of the castle tonight.”
That made all three women straighten up in surprise.
“But why?” asked Olivia. “I thought I did quite well. Was I not convincing after all?”
“You were indeed convincing,” he assured her. “No one doubts that you are the princess. But—” He paused. “I must tell you everything. When we first approached you, we thought Princess Mila had run off in a fit of pique while we were all asleep—so sound asleep we suspected she had drugged us. Her servants—her maid and the members of her immediate guard—had vanished with her, and some of her things as well. We assumed we would find her quickly.
“But today at the station, there was a message for the general. One of the princess’s guards has been found dead. The body had been dragged from the road and hastily buried under leaves in the forest.” He paused again. “That has changed everything.”
A Scandalous Adventure Page 7
