Alone, but assured that every eye would be upon him. He wore a pale-blue uniform so bestrewn with orders and decorations that he glittered as he walked. His once-blond hair was now gray but still covered his head, and his mustache blended into side-whiskers so exuberant that his head seemed twice its natural width. It was a style favored by both Prince Wilhelm of Prussia and Emperor Franz Josef of Austria. Max wondered if either of those worthies would be flattered by the imitation.
But it would be foolish to underestimate Gottfried. For all his vanity and short temper, he was no fool, and those hard gray eyes had noted everyone in the room even while his attention seemed focused on Conrad.
“We welcome you to Sigmaringen, Prince Gottfried.” Conrad inclined his head just enough.
“And it is a pleasure to be here.” Gottfried did the same, and then clasped his hands behind his back to signal an end to the formalities. “Well, Conrad, you said that we needed to speak privately. Why, then, this audience?” He tilted his head to indicate those standing at the side.
“They are all involved in this affair. Please, Gottfried, come and be seated.” The prince indicated a chair placed beside the throne. “And I have a letter that was left for you.”
A frown began to crease Gottfried’s brow, but since the chair was beside, not below, the throne, he seated himself with a flourish and held out a hand for the letter. At a nod from Conrad, Max placed it in the older man’s hand.
Gottfried stared at the inscription as if the writing were unfamiliar, but when he turned it over, he seemed to recognize the seal. With a quizzical frown, he looked over at Olivia, who was sitting serenely motionless, looking off into the distance. He seemed about to speak, but changed his mind, broke open the seal, and settled back to read the letter.
A moment later he sprang to his feet, waving the letter in Olivia’s direction. “What nonsense is this, Daughter? Have you lost your mind? Lieutenant Bauer, pfah!”
Olivia started to shrink back before the attack but quickly recovered herself. She was not going to be bullied by this preposterous little man, no matter what title he bore. “I’m afraid you are making a mistake, Your Highness. I am not Princess Mila.”
“Don’t talk like a fool. You can’t simply decide that you no longer wish to be a princess. Your birth is your birth!” He advanced on Olivia, the letter crushed in his fist. “You are to marry Conrad here and forget this nonsense.”
Conrad stood and imposed himself between Gottfried and Olivia. “Calm yourself, Gottfried. You need to hear the whole story. Count von Staufer will explain what has happened.”
Max stepped forward and recounted recent events. He introduced all the participants and explained the masquerade as an effort to avoid scandal. His best efforts at a dispassionate recital did not prevent Gottfried’s frequent eruptions into profanity.
“Who is this creature who has been masquerading as my daughter? Disgracing my name?” Gottfried sneered at her.
Olivia had been sneered at by ladies in London society. The open hostility of a mere German princeling was not going to intimidate her. She looked at him with icy disdain and said, “I am the Lady Olivia de Vaux, daughter of the late Earl of Doncaster and sister of the present earl.”
Taken aback by her failure to cower before him, he turned to another topic. “Their heads! I want the heads of those miserable traitors!” Gottfried shook his fists at the heavens. Or perhaps in some other direction.
Conrad replied calmly, “They have been dealt with appropriately. You need not concern yourself any further.”
“And Bauer and my daughter? Where are they now? Have you caught them?”
Max coughed softly. “I fear they eluded us. As best we have discovered, they are now on the high seas, sailing for South America.”
“Bauer! I can’t believe it. I myself appointed him to head my daughter’s guard, and he has served her for three years…” Gottfried’s voice trailed off as he thought, doubtless considering that the princess and the lieutenant guarding her had been much in each other’s company for those years. And Bauer was a very handsome fellow. A river of curses spilled from Gottfried’s lips, though at whom they were directed was not entirely clear.
“I know you!” A new voice broke into the proceedings, reducing Gottfried and everyone else to unexpected silence.
Like an avenging fury, Lady Augusta marched to the center of the room and pointed a finger at Gottfried. “How dare you go shouting at and bullying us? I recognize you now. Willy von Regensburg, that’s who you are. Or that’s what you called yourself when you were traipsing around London all those years ago.”
Gottfried suddenly went bright red again and began to sputter. “Madame, I do not know you.” He spun to face Conrad. “Who is this creature?”
Lady Augusta turned to the Penworths. “You must remember, Anne. Or weren’t you in London that year? It’s more than twenty years ago, but I’ll never forget. It was an extraordinary scandal. The fellow had absolutely no sense of discretion. He was carrying on in utterly flagrant fashion with Georgina Doncaster. Everyone commented on it.” Her voice trailed off as she realized the implications of what she was saying.
A sudden silence fell on the room.
Pale once more, Gottfried turned slowly to stare at Lady Olivia.
Lady Olivia stared at Prince Gottfried.
The others all looked back and forth from one to the other.
“With my mother?” Olivia’s words were the merest whisper.
Lord Penworth was the first to recover. He cleared his throat and approached Conrad. “Your Highness, this revelation casts a new light on things. Perhaps it would be more comfortable for Prince Gottfried if he were allowed to discuss this situation in private. If you would delegate me to speak for you?”
At Conrad’s nod, Lord Penworth led the shaken prince from the room, speaking in a gentle tone suited to soothing a frightened child.
* * *
It took a few days for all the details to be hammered out, but by evening the general outline of the agreement was clear. There would be an alliance between Sigmaringen and Hechingen, creating a small but powerful alliance in Swabia. While there could be no formal treaty with Great Britain, the Queen and her government would be inclined to take a benevolent interest in a principality where the ruler was married to the sister of an admired English earl and a connection of the prominent Marquess of Penworth. The Prince of Hechingen was delighted at a marriage between his ally, the Prince of Sigmaringen, and the daughter of a noble English family with which he had deep ties of friendship.
Of Princess Mila, there was no mention. She had ceased to exist. Privately, however, Conrad intended to send her a handsome wedding present when she and Lieutenant Bauer reached their destination, wherever it turned out to be.
Forty-one
A royal wedding was not something that could be arranged in a matter of days. Or even weeks. The guest list had to include royalty and statesmen from around the globe, all of whom had to be placed in accommodations suitable to their status and not in excessive proximity to ancient enemies.
Banquets had to be planned to welcome the visitors. Butchers and bakers and candlestick makers began to plan ways to expand their businesses.
Activities were needed to entertain the guests during their stay. There would be balls and concerts and plays. That meant that in addition to the wedding guests, Nymburg would be hosting all the musicians and actors and performers. Extensions to hotels were planned, and householders considered how much they could charge for the use of a spare bedroom.
As far as Max was concerned, the greatest difficulty during those weeks was his attempt to convince Conrad that a prince needed a council of advisors, not a single man. Especially not if that man was Max, who felt utterly unqualified for the task of steering the ship of state, and who wanted nothing more than to take his wife home to Ostrov.
Conrad sat behind the desk in his private office and scowled at Max. “I am not asking you to do anything that Count Herzlos did not do. He had no council. He decided everything.”
“He had been doing it for decades when he became regent for you.” Max strode around the room in exasperation. “He had learned from your grandfather.”
“Yes, he learned from my grandfather. And that is why nothing was allowed to change.” Conrad’s angry scowl remained. “He kept everything in his own hands. And that is why I know nothing.”
Max had no answer for that. It was perfectly true.
“That’s why I need you. I can trust you, and you will tell me the truth.”
“Sire, I will always serve you to the best of my ability. And never again will I conceal the truth from you. But you need advisors who know things—things I know nothing of.” Max ran a hand through his hair in a thoroughly undignified gesture. “For example, I know we need more railways, yes. But—”
Conrad interrupted him, nodding impatiently. “We do. We need them badly if we are not to become a neglected backwater. But Count Herzlos disliked them, so they were never even considered. You see the need and tell me about it. That is what I mean.”
“But that is not enough! I can see that we need them—I have heard enough complaints from merchants, to say nothing of my wife’s parents. But I do not know where it would be best to have them. Should they run to the mines? To the cities? Should they connect us to Berlin? To Vienna? And how should we pay for them? Should the state own them?”
“These are details.” Conrad waved his hand dismissively. “Any clerk can find the information for you.”
“Yes but…” Max shook his head in exasperation, and an idea came into it. “We could consult Susannah’s father.”
“The marquess?”
“Yes.” Max seized on the idea. “He has been involved in the government of Britain, but he has no interest in Sigmaringen. He can use his experience, but he can also be neutral.”
It took a bit of persuading, but eventually Conrad agreed, and Max laid his problem before his father-in-law. Then he had to persuade his father-in-law to help.
That was not as easy as it might sound. Susannah’s parents were still distrustful. Max had hoped his request for Lord Penworth’s assistance would flatter them, at least a little, and lead them to look more kindly on their daughter’s husband. What he got was a pair of icy glares. The sympathy the marquess had shown in his efforts on behalf of Lady Olivia did not seem to extend to Max.
“I realize Sigmaringen is not like other countries, but is it not your duty to serve your ruler in whatever capacity he asks?” There was more disdain than sympathy in Lord Penworth’s tone.
Max could swallow the sneer at himself. The sneer at Sigmaringen was almost impossible to swallow. He reminded himself that he needed to conciliate his father-in-law, and beating the older man to a pulp would not accomplish this. Max did not, however, keep the stiffness out of his voice when he replied. “I would think it my duty to give my ruler the best advice I can, and that advice is that my loyalty and friendship are not enough. He needs the counsel of men more knowledgeable and experienced than I am.”
Lord Penworth stared at him impassively. Max had never known a man so adept at concealing his emotions. Still, Max saw—or hoped he saw—a slight glint of approval in his father-in-law’s eyes.
“Very well. You are meeting with Prince Conrad again tomorrow at two? I will join you then.”
Max bowed with meticulous courtesy, turned, and left the room with two pairs of eyes boring holes in his back. He then sought out his wife and spent a few restorative hours in her arms.
In Conrad’s private office the next day, Max spoke for what seemed like hours, trying to explain all the areas in which he lacked knowledge or experience.
Conrad kept dismissing Max’s concerns, saying, “What I need is someone I can trust, someone who will tell me the truth. You are the only man I know who will do that.”
Finally, Lord Penworth spoke up. “If I may make a few comments, Your Highness.” He smiled courteously, almost diffidently. Max found it hard to believe that this was the same rigidly correct man he had spoken to the day before.
“I can understand your need for a confidant,” Penworth said, “but this does not have to be someone holding an official position. In many ways it might be beneficial to keep Count von Staufer in a private capacity.”
“Why?” asked Conrad bluntly.
“I gather that those who saw Count Herzlos before his departure had no difficulty believing that he had resigned for reasons of ill health. However, he was well known, not only in your country but throughout the region, and experienced. If his replacement is an inexperienced young man, your neighbors may view Sigmaringen as vulnerable.”
Conrad bristled. “Our army is more than able to defend Sigmaringen.”
“But it is always best to avoid the need for its use. And besides…” Penworth hesitated. “I do not know how much you are aware of the ambitions of Prussia.”
Conrad snorted. “Max is always warning me that Bismarck and Prussia want to swallow us whole.”
“Is he?” Penworth shot a quick glance at his son-in-law. “Well, I think he is right. And if it isn’t Prussia, it is likely to be Austria. There is this business with Schleswig and Holstein distracting them at the moment, but sooner or later, they are likely to clash. You, all the small German states, are caught in between them. You must not look weak.”
“And you think that having Max as my chief minister would make Sigmaringen look weak?” Conrad looked incredulous.
“Frankly, yes. No one knows him—knows anything about him—outside your borders. You need to surround yourself with men of greater experience.”
Conrad snorted. “I know the men who worked with Herzlos. Age did not give them wisdom.”
“Perhaps not, but their gray hairs give at least the appearance of wisdom. You can ask them for advice, but you need not follow it. The fact that their names are known to your neighbors will be enough to provide reassurance.”
Conrad suddenly laughed. “Playacting! More playacting! Shall we begin another masquerade, Max? Is that what Lord Penworth recommends?”
Lord Penworth looked startled and then turned to Max with a slightly embarrassed smile. “I suppose that is what I am suggesting. So often what matters is the appearance of things.”
Max raised a shoulder in rueful acknowledgment. “And now we must learn what lies behind the reputations of others. Who are our friends and who are our enemies?”
“And whom can I trust?” A bitter smile twisted Conrad’s lips. “Not any of the men who surrounded my uncle, but who else has any experience?”
“Don’t be too hasty,” said Max. “Count Herzlos was no fool, and at least some of those who advised him are good men. Valuable men. Baron Helmundt, for example, knows a great deal about trade agreements and finance, and Schussman is a perceptive observer of the diplomatic scene.”
“Schussman?” Conrad blinked in surprise. “I thought he was a gambler.”
Max grinned. “And you would be wise not to play cards with him. But he can read the people in embassies as easily as he reads those around the card table.”
This time Conrad’s laugh was more lighthearted as he turned to Penworth. “You see? This is why I want Max beside me. He notices things like this. He always has. People look at him and think that because he is so big, he must be dim-witted, and so they let things slip.”
“Yes,” said Penworth, regarding his son-in-law carefully. “Yes, I can see where that might happen.”
Max retreated to his rooms and his wife feeling somewhat relieved, but still frustrated. There was no way they were going to be able to retreat to Ostrov before the wedding, and no way they were going to be able to avoid the wedding preparations.
Forty-two
A
week before the wedding, the sun had barely set when Susannah and Max tumbled into bed—their newly polished and mattressed and pillowed and bedecked bed in their newly painted and papered and draped chamber in their newly opened and extensively refurbished town house on the finest square in Nymburg. They lay there with their eyes closed, he with his arm around her, she with her head on his shoulder, too exhausted to move.
“Has it been difficult?” she asked as a good wife should.
“Today Conrad had an idea. He thought it would be good to go on procession around the country after the wedding. To introduce Olivia to his people.”
Her eyes popped open. “Goodness. How medieval.”
“That was his thought—to revive an old custom. I was obliged to remind him that the custom had fallen into disuse because few noblemen or towns could play host to the court without going bankrupt.”
She chuckled. “Not the sort of thing the prince would think of.”
“Apparently not.” Max sighed, but eventually the corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “Speaking of things one would not think of… You know Emil has been pressed into service at the palace?”
Susannah made a noise that could have passed for agreement.
“Well, he came across one of the servants the Russian archduke brought. The fellow was measuring the room that the Austrian archduke had been given to make sure it wasn’t bigger than his master’s.”
Susannah managed a small giggle. “Today I thought two of the bridesmaids—Lady Enid and Lady Bertha—were going resort to hair-pulling over the order of the procession. Each one was waving a genealogy giving her precedence over the other. Order was restored only after Aunt Magda decreed that they would be arranged in size places.”
“I wish she could order things at the palace as well. There is a clerk in the College of Heralds who has, I swear, become the most important man in the kingdom. He knows the order of precedence for everyone, down to the babes in arms. And he is the only one in the entire country—possibly the entire universe—who knows.”
A Scandalous Adventure Page 26
