Eighteen
They had seen the ballroom on their tour of the castle, but that had been in the daytime. Susannah had thought the white and gold space cold and cavernous. Intimidating. Certainly not at all appealing. Now, however, it was magical. Three enormous gilt-and-crystal chandeliers, each with three tiers of candles, hung in a row down the center of the room. A dozen smaller ones marched down either side, brilliantly illuminating the festivities. Flowers, banks of flowers, perfumed the air as in an eternal summer. The sweet strains of a few violins floated over the chatter of those awaiting the start of the ball.
For a moment, Susannah forgot all about the masquerade, the danger, Olivia’s fears, and Aunt Augusta’s warning. The splendor of the scene drove all those worries away. She had wandered into an enchanted world.
She had never been to a ball at Buckingham Palace—such frivolity had died with Prince Albert—but she could not imagine that the Queen had ever presided over an event so lightheartedly joyful. It was not just the magnificence of the room and the glamour of the guests. Yes, the women wore beautiful gowns and dripped with jewels. Yes, many of the men wore splendiferous uniforms and glittered with decorations so that they were even more colorful than the women. But Susannah suspected that the real source of joy on this occasion was the prince.
He had greeted his princess with a look of delight that cast a glow over the room. When he held her by his side as he welcomed people to the ball, a faint sigh of pleasure rose from the onlookers. The court was as delighted with the princess as the prince was, and as the crowds greeting her arrival had been.
Susannah felt a twinge of something. Guilt? Not really. Concern, perhaps. It was not quite the earlier worries returning. This worry was something new.
Olivia was such a perfect princess that she was going to create problems for Princess Mila when she reappeared. But from what Max and the general had said, Mila was a foolish and self-centered girl, so perhaps Susannah’s concern should be for the prince. It was the reverse of all the fairy tales. His charming princess would turn into a toad.
She shook off the regret. Mila was the princess he was supposed to get in the first place, and all they were doing was preserving his realm for him. He would have to be grateful for that when he eventually found out what had been happening. But she doubted that would happen. He would have to be inhuman to be anything other than furious at the deception. To be offered happiness and then have it snatched from you? She knew how she would feel, and it would not be grateful.
Enough.
She could do nothing about the prince and his troubles, present or future. For tonight she was going to set all her fears and worries aside, seize the moment, and enjoy it. The problems would still be there in the morning, but for once in her life, she was going to ignore her responsibilities.
This night was going to be for her.
Never again would she dance in a royal ballroom. It was quite possible that never again would she dance with Captain Maximillian von Staufer.
She stepped forward to take her place beside Max in the opening polonaise, and her breath stopped when she looked up at him. He was magnificent. He was tall and strong and incredibly handsome. He was a knight in shining armor, no matter that instead of armor he wore a white uniform festooned with gold braid. Instead of a shield, a green velvet cape lined with gold satin hung over one shoulder.
The warmth in his eyes when he looked at her fanned an unaccustomed flame inside her. His hand enveloped hers, and even through their gloves, she could feel the heat crackling, welding them together.
They moved through the gliding steps of the procession, bowing and twirling as the dance demanded, but she felt separate from all the others. It was as if she and Max were the only ones there. The orchestra slipped into the first waltz of the ball, and she was spinning to the music with only his strong arm around her to keep her from flying off into space.
Susannah had heard this music before. It was one of the Strauss waltzes that had been played when they were in Vienna. It had been lovely then. Now it was perfect. Dum-de-dah, dum-de-dah—rising and swirling, inscribing itself in her heart. Never would she lose this melody. This music was hers for all eternity.
She looked up into Max’s eyes, his dark, dark eyes, and could not look away. One was expected to talk to one’s partner while dancing—she knew that—but she could not think of anything to say. Her heart was overflowing, but with feelings she could not put into words. His eyes told her it was the same for him. They spun and whirled and floated on a cloud of music, alone in the universe.
Eventually the music came to an end, and slowly she grew aware of the quiet. Max had whirled her out of the ballroom and onto the balcony. The chill of the evening meant that they were utterly private here, but with his arms around her, she did not feel the cold.
“Suse.” He breathed out her name almost as a prayer. “Ah, Suse, there is so much I want to say, so much I want to promise, but I cannot. Not yet. Do you understand?”
She nodded. She could not speak, not now, but she did understand. Duty was something everyone in her family understood. Duty always came first.
But duty was not the only thing in the world.
She moved her hand from his shoulder to pull his head down to her. Then the voices from the ballroom penetrated her consciousness—voices that seemed to be coming nearer.
Regretfully, she stepped back, and after a moment, Max’s arm loosened to let her go. He led her sedately back into the ballroom.
“Staufer.” The sharp voice made her jump, and she turned to see another officer, tall—though not so tall as Max, of course—and fair, with a thin, blond mustache. He was smiling, but only with his mouth. His gray eyes were cold and swept over her in a quick assessment before turning back to Max. “Will you introduce me?” he asked. His tone made it more demand than request.
Max looked at him with equal coldness, then turned to Susannah with warning in his look and in his voice. “Lady Susannah, may I present Lieutenant Dieter Angriffer, a friend of Baron Herzlos. Angriffer, Lady Susannah Tremaine, companion to Princess Mila.”
The lieutenant clicked his heels and bowed.
Susannah did not need Max’s warning. This was the end of her plan for an idyllic evening at the ball. The romantic fantasies that had filled her mind on the balcony faded, leaving her feeling resentful at their loss. The resentment focused on Lieutenant Angriffer.
Although he was good-looking enough with his blond hair and chiseled features, there was something distinctly reptilian about him. The coldness of his pale eyes, perhaps, and the way they stared at her without blinking. However, she did not consider it politic to refuse his request for the next dance. That would be rude, and though there might be need for rudeness in the future—she was fairly certain that he was an enemy—that time was not yet.
The waltz began conventionally enough. They kept the proper distance apart, and he held her and danced correctly, without flourishes. The difference between this waltz and the one she had just shared with Max was indescribable.
The silence between them was a trifle awkward, but Susannah felt no need to break it. Angriffer was the one who had requested—demanded—this dance. And she still resented his intrusion.
Finally he gave a short bark of laughter. “You are not a fool, I see. You know to keep silent.”
That hardly needed a response, so Susannah remained silent. She kept her face averted, ignoring him, though she could feel his eyes boring into her.
He gave that barking laugh again. “Very good.” He sounded approving. “Where did Staufer find you? Are you whores? Actresses?”
She did look at him then, startled.
He looked back, studying her. “No, probably not actresses. When actresses portray ladies, they cannot avoid excess. Too much pride, too much condescension. You do it as if it is all natural. Minor gentry, perhaps? Impoverished gentlewomen?
”
She found her tongue and spoke coldly. “I cannot imagine what you are talking about.”
“No need to play insulted with me.” His smile looked smug. “You see, I know where Princess Mila is.”
Susannah looked pointedly at the end of the room, where Olivia was standing beside the prince.
“An excellent imitation, I admit, but not the real thing.” Angriffer spun her into a twirl, beginning to enjoy the dance. “I was introduced earlier, and this one is much pleasanter than the real one. Princess Mila keeps whining and fussing. I was finding her quite irritating and came to ask Hugo what he wants me to do with her.”
She couldn’t keep from stiffening, and he smiled at her reaction.
“Yes,” he continued, “all is known, at least in some quarters. I can stand up and say, ‘Your Highness, these women are imposters.’ And then where will you be? On your way to the gallows?”
After a moment, during which Susannah thought frantically, she smiled slowly. “Oh, I don’t think so, Lieutenant.”
“No?”
“No. Because, after all, what are you going to say? That this princess is an imposter, and I know because I have kidnapped the real one? Then you would be the one on the way to the gallows.”
He regarded her with amusement. “Definitely not a fool, not if you see the problem so quickly. You interest me.”
“And you also have another problem. How can you be certain that your prisoner is the real princess? Perhaps you have kidnapped an imposter.”
“Another possibility, which leaves us at a stalemate. Whatever shall we do?” He seemed both amused and pleased, as if enjoying this exchange.
“Well, you could always return the princess.”
He laughed out loud at that suggestion. “Somehow, I do not think that the baroness and her brother would think much of that idea.”
Susannah found his phrasing interesting. “The baroness is the one who would object? Not the baron?”
“You are quick indeed.” He looked at her with admiration. “Yes, the baroness is the one who plans, and her brother follows her lead.”
“But why is she so ambitious for her brother? Can it possibly make that much difference to her life? She is already the daughter of the country’s first minister.”
“It is never wise to offend that lady. Her father should never have dismissed the suggestion that Conrad marry her with such disdain. Not that Conrad showed any enthusiasm for the prospect. And then when she turned her attention to the possibility of becoming Countess von Staufer, Max didn’t even notice her advances to him.” Angriffer shook his head in mock reproof. “Helga does have her pride.”
“She is doing this out of wounded vanity? That is preposterous.” Susannah’s common sense was outraged.
A touch of sympathy entered Angriffer’s look. “A word of warning. It has not escaped her that Max is a bit taken with you. If she offers you a glass of wine, I recommend that you decline.”
As the music drew to a close, he whirled her to a halt just beside the prince and Olivia. Hugo and Helga were also standing there and acknowledged them with a nod. Angriffer stepped to Helga’s side, and she placed a possessive hand on his arm while sending a look of cold calculation at Susannah. Her face smoothed out as she returned her attention to Olivia, who was standing up bravely but looked hunted.
The prince did not seem to notice this, though how he could be so oblivious Susannah did not know. Perhaps he was so accustomed to the Herzlos pair that he no longer noticed their vitriol.
“How curious that both your attendants should be English ladies,” said the baroness. “One would have expected you to bring your own compatriots with you. To keep you from being homesick.”
Olivia smiled sweetly. “That had occurred to me, but I decided against it. After all, this will be my home, and I do not need ties to another country. Lady Augusta and Lady Susannah are old friends from my travels and, as such, provide enough connection to my old life without distracting me from my new loyalty to Sigmaringen.”
“Bravo,” said Conrad. “The perfect answer from my bride-to-be.”
That comment, combined with Olivia’s condescending smile, froze the baroness’s smile into a grimace.
Ordinarily, Susannah would wager on her friend in this contest. Olivia looked so sweet that people frequently underestimated her, though she only defended herself when she was actually attacked. At the moment, however, Olivia was handicapped by her ignorance. She did not know that their masquerade had been exposed—at least to the villains of the piece.
Helga did not just suspect. She now knew that Olivia was an imposter and was trying to unmask her. All Olivia knew was that Helga was being poisonous, and she probably thought Helga was no different from all poisonous ladies she had encountered in London. Nor was Lady Augusta any help. She was off on the floor, waltzing with the general. Again.
In preparation for her next foray, the baroness narrowed her eyes and prepared to strike. “You know, Princess, I find myself puzzled by your accent. It seems a bit strange to me.”
The prince stepped in. “Really? It sounds charming to me.” He smiled at Olivia and lifted her hand to kiss it.
Helga seemed about to burst, so Susannah said, “To tell the truth, Baroness, your accent seemed a bit strange to me. A trifle countrified, perhaps. But then, I don’t imagine you have spent much time at the court in Vienna, have you?”
“In Vienna?” The baroness spun around to look at Susannah. “What has Vienna to do with anything?”
“Nothing at all,” said Susannah, patting Helga’s arm sympathetically. “I am sure there has never been any need for you to visit Emperor Franz Josef’s court there. Just because Sisi—the Empress Elisabeth—made such a pet of Princess Mila, you should not feel slighted. After all, very few are invited to join the empress at Bad Kissingen.”
Susannah heard a snort of laughter from Angriffer. She also heard a hiss from Helga, whose claw tightened on Angriffer’s arm. Hugo was saying nothing, just standing there looking rather as if he had indigestion. He was not the leader in this plot, Susannah realized. But whether the real leader was Helga or Angriffer, she was not sure.
Mercifully, the music began again, and the prince excused himself to whirl Olivia into another waltz. Susannah reached a hand out to Max, who had been glaring at Angriffer. “I believe this is our dance,” she said, and stepped out without waiting for his reply.
He joined her, still looking thunderous, and swept her into the dance. “I do not like the way Angriffer looked at you. He has a bad reputation where women are concerned. What did he say while you were dancing?”
Susannah sighed. She hoped Max was not going to be difficult. “He knows that Olivia is not the real princess because he has the real princess himself.”
Max stumbled slightly and corrected his rhythm before he spoke. “How do you know?”
“I know because he told me. I see no reason to doubt his word.”
“But…” Max frowned. “But why did he not denounce Lady Olivia as an imposter?”
“He said he might, but I pointed out that he could not. What would he do, confess that he kidnapped the princess?”
“Ah.” Max tightened his grasp on her but then vanished into his own thoughts.
* * *
The waltz continued, and Max did not miss a step, but Susannah could have been a mop in his arms for all the notice he gave her. At last his thoughts returned to the ballroom. He glanced around and steered them through one of the windows onto a balcony once more.
“Yes, I see,” he said. “It is a stalemate. He cannot denounce Lady Olivia as an imposter without admitting that he kidnapped Princess Mila. Hugo must also know now that she is an imposter. He was not certain, but Angriffer will have assured him that the princess did not escape. That is why Helga was playing her little games. But what is that nonsense you w
ere spouting about Empress Elisabeth?”
“It wasn’t nonsense. One of Olivia’s cousins is with the embassy in Vienna, so she and I visited there before we took Lady Augusta to Baden. And the empress was quite taken with Olivia.”
“Ah,” said Max again. “I had not realized… I am not familiar with the nobility of England. Lady Olivia’s family is important?”
“Her father was the Earl of Doncaster. Her brother holds the title now. Lady Augusta’s brother is the Earl of Greystone.” Susannah sounded surprised that Max did not know, but why would he?
“And these are all important men, are they not? Men who will not be happy that I have put their daughters and sisters in danger?” When she nodded, he grinned. “Then I shall have to see to it that I keep you safe while we outwit Angriffer and Hugo. A pretty problem, is it not?”
His smile faded. “It is not that easy, though. I must warn you, Dieter Angriffer is dangerous. He is more intelligent than Hugo and more vicious. He especially dislikes me.” His mouth twisted at his memories. “When we were cadets, I always seemed to come out ahead of him. Some of it he could blame on favoritism—I was a count; he was the son of a tradesman. But I was the better swordsman, the better rider. That he could not forgive.”
“How ridiculously childish.” Susannah sounded impatient.
“Unfortunately, calling it ‘childish’ does not make it go away. It makes me all the more concerned for you.” Max took her hands. “It does not take a blind man to see that you matter to me, and Dieter is not blind. He may try to strike at me through you. You must be very careful.”
“Of course I will be careful. We are all being careful.”
He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “Ah, Suse, I want so desperately to protect you. What if I cannot?”
The strains of another Strauss waltz came through the window, mocking their earlier pleasure in the evening. Susannah shivered. Max wrapped his arms around her to keep her from the cold, just to keep her warm, but he could not resist doing more. His mouth descended slowly to cover hers.
A Scandalous Adventure Page 11
