‘Abigail Turner.’ The Queen’s face darkened with rage. ‘She deserves to be put to death for what she did.’
‘She saved my life,’ Michael countered. He explained what Mrs Turner had told him, and all the while, the Queen listened with an unreadable expression.
When he’d finished, he said, ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe a word I said. Why should you? I’m a stranger claiming that I could be your son.’
‘You don’t want this throne, do you?’ the Queen said slowly.
‘No.’ He strode away from her, even knowing that it was rude. ‘I wanted to believe that Mary Thorpe was my mother. I wanted to go back to my life as a lieutenant in the British Army.’ He folded his arms across his chest, switching to Lohenisch. ‘But I can’t deny the memories I have. Nor this language.’
When he turned back to face the Queen, her gaze met his.
‘You’re not a lieutenant, are you?’ With her posture ramrod straight, she rose and walked towards him. ‘Show me your left calf.’ He raised the leg of his trousers, lowering his sock until he bared the scar.
Her hazel eyes glistened, and Queen Astri covered her mouth with her hands. ‘You’re the son I lost. Fürst Karl.’
‘My name is not Karl,’ he protested. ‘I am Michael.’
‘Yes. Karl Peter Michael Henry, Fürst of Lohenberg.’ She drew closer, staring at the scar. ‘It was in the wrong place, you see. The scar on the boy they gave me. His scar was just above his ankle. Yours was below the knee. But the King wouldn’t believe me. He told me that the boy was our son. The scar was enough to convince him. He had me locked away, believing I’d gone mad when I said the child wasn’t ours.
‘May I?’ she asked, and once again he realised that she was treating him like royalty, requesting permission before she touched him.
Her arms went around him in an embrace, and awkwardly, he stood still, not sure of what to do. When she moved away, her eyes were wet. ‘You don’t know me. I’m aware of that, but it’s been so very long.’
Another tear rolled down her cheek, combined with a laugh. ‘I was right, you see. They didn’t believe me, but I was right. The boy they gave me wasn’t you.’ She removed a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. ‘I thank God you’re alive.’
The door to the Queen’s antechamber opened, and Fürst Karl entered. He strode forward, bowing to the Queen, but his eyes blazed with fury.
‘Your Majesty,’ he greeted her. To Michael, he said nothing.
‘Get out,’ she ordered Karl, pointing at the door. ‘I’ve no wish to see you.’
‘My lady Mother, I—’
‘Out!’ she shrieked. ‘Leave my presence! I am not your mother, and you are not my son!’ Her face filled with loathing, and Michael glimpsed the Prince’s shuttered expression.
‘If you have need of me—’
‘I would never call you, if I had the need. You are nothing to me but an impostor! Lying traitor!’
The Prince sent Michael another dark look, bowing as he made his way out of the chamber.
The Queen apologised as soon as the door closed. ‘Tonight, I will order a welcoming feast for you, my son. And the world will know the truth of who is the real Prince.’ Her face curved in a smile. ‘They have only to look upon your face to see it for themselves.’
But despite her happiness, Michael hadn’t missed the hatred upon Karl’s face. He’d just deposed a man who had been born and bred for the throne. And he had no doubt that Karl would fight for his kingdom.
Hannah ducked behind the tall wooden chair when Fürst Karl exited the chamber. Anyone could have heard the Queen’s rejection, and from the iciness on the Prince’s face, it was clear he was furious.
He stopped in front of the chair. ‘You may as well come out, Mrs Thorpe. Your gown gives you away.’
Hannah straightened, realising he was right. ‘I didn’t mean to pry. I was simply waiting upon my…that is, the…Lieutenant.’ She didn’t say Prince, for it would only fuel the Prince’s rage.
Fürst Karl stepped forward, his eyes burning. ‘I ordered both of you to leave my country.’
Hannah drew upon every facet of her training to respond. ‘I understand how angry you must be with us. But—’
‘You understand nothing.’ The coldness in his voice was lined with pain.
Hannah prayed she could somehow ease the Prince’s anger and reassure him. But this was a man who was about to lose everything. His home, his title…even his family. No words would take away the loss.
‘You didn’t live here your entire life, did you?’ she began. ‘Do you remember what it was like before the palace?’
The Prince seemed taken aback by her questions. Rightfully so, she supposed. Royalty was never meant to be interrogated.
‘I never lived anywhere else.’
‘You might not remember it,’ she offered, changing tactics. ‘But surely, if you think back to your earliest memory, you know of a time when you were frightened.’ She stepped closer to him, her own fears quaking inside. ‘When you were but a small child, pushed into a world you didn’t understand.’
Careful, Hannah. Don’t make him angrier.
But his face remained blank, as though she hadn’t spoken at all.
‘I can understand why you might resent Lieutenant Thorpe,’ she said gently. ‘To find out that your life was not what you thought it was…anyone would be angry at the changes.’
‘Nothing has changed,’ the Fürst insisted. ‘And I won’t let him do anything to upset the Queen.’
The Prince’s protective nature over his mother made Hannah’s heart ache. She doubted if Queen Astri had ever accepted Fürst Karl as her son. In her mind, Hannah imagined a lonely boy, trying to win his mother’s love. And never succeeding.
‘Lieutenant Thorpe came to find out the truth. Not to hurt anyone, especially not the Queen.’ She could see the pain in his eyes, of a man whose life was crumbling at his feet. ‘Talk to him, I beg of you. If the two of you would come to an understanding, there might be a way to compromise.’
Her words made the Fürst stiffen. He crossed the hallway, coming to stand directly in front of her. ‘There cannot be a compromise, Mrs Thorpe. Lohenberg is my homeland, and I will die before handing my throne over to a stranger who knows nothing of our country.’
‘He is your brother, by blood,’ Hannah said quietly. ‘And regardless of the conspiracies that happened years ago, the two of you should put your differences aside. Try to work together.’
The Prince shook his head. ‘It’s not possible.’
Hannah looked into his eyes, noting the trapped frustration. ‘Lieutenant Thorpe is a good man. And I believe you are, as well.’
‘I care little about what anyone thinks of me. Least of all, the wife of a lieutenant.’
Her expression grew strained. ‘I am the daughter of a Marquess. Not the wife of a lieutenant.’ Steeling herself, she admitted, ‘I lied about being married. It was merely a way to stay with him.’
‘You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’
She didn’t answer, trying to keep the bottled-up emotions from spilling over. ‘I want him to be happy. Whether he is a soldier or a Prince.’
The Prince’s expression grew taut. ‘You want to become a Princess.’
‘No.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Actually, I’d rather be a soldier’s wife.’ Glancing toward the Queen’s chambers, she added, ‘I know what it is to be imprisoned in a life like this. To be measured and inspected. And still never be good enough.’
The Prince’s gaze met hers, and she thought she detected a softening. For a moment, she saw herself mirrored in him, and wondered if he, too, craved his freedom.
‘You will always be a Prince here,’ she ventured, touching her own heart. ‘A man who loves Lohenberg as you do would make a strong adviser.’
‘I’d make a better king,’ the Prince responded. His chin raised up, and he added, ‘Your days in Lohenberg are coming to an end. Rest assured, Lad
y Hannah, I’ll let no one take what belongs to me.’
Hannah waited the remainder of the morning for Michael, but when he finally emerged from the King’s chambers, she caught only a glimpse of him before the servants led him away. After they disappeared down the corridor, the Graf hobbled out, sinking gratefully into the chair offered by his servants.
‘They accepted him, then?’ Hannah asked. ‘Did the audience go well?’
‘It did. And I should imagine they will formally acknowledge him as the Fürst within a day or so.’ The Graf gave a relaxed smile. ‘There’s no need for you to stay any longer.’
Hannah didn’t return his smile. ‘I promised I would remain for a few days.’
‘There are others who will help him to assimilate. He does not require your assistance.’
‘Trusted servants?’ She shook her head. ‘Not yet. There were two attempts on his life already. He needs someone to watch out for him, to make sure he’s safe.’
‘He’ll have guards for that.’ The Graf motioned a servant forward. ‘Escort Lady Hannah back to my coach.’
‘Forgive me, Graf von Reischor…’ the maidservant curtsied ‘…but the Queen has already ordered a bedchamber prepared for Lady Hannah.’
Hannah held back her sigh of relief. Her thoughts were so tangled, right now all she wanted was to rest in Michael’s arms, to feel the warmth of his body beside her. But he hadn’t spoken to her, nor even glanced in her direction when he’d left with the Queen. She tried to ignore the disappointment settling in her stomach.
As she followed the maidservant to one of the guest rooms, she was startled to cross paths with guests she’d met aboard the Orpheus.
‘Why, Lord Brentford,’ she greeted, surprised to see the Viscount. ‘And Miss Nelson. This is a surprise.’
The Viscount beamed, returning the greeting. ‘I was delighted that the König accepted my request for an audience,’ he explained. ‘And, of course, we simply had to bring Ophelia to meet the royal family. My wife insisted on it.’
Miss Nelson glanced at her father, clearly uncomfortable. She twisted her hands, not offering a greeting or any remark to Hannah.
‘Where is Lady Brentford?’ Hannah asked, curious as to why the Viscountess was not with them.
‘Shopping.’ The Viscount winced. ‘She claims that Ophelia needs a more dramatic gown for tonight, and she’s having a gown altered.’
‘Perhaps I’ll see all of you at dinner this evening,’ Hannah offered.
‘Perhaps,’ Lord Brentford replied. ‘We are hoping Ophelia will be presented to the Crown Prince. After all, he has not yet chosen a bride.’
Hannah wasn’t certain how Lord Brentford had wormed his way into the Schloss, but it was clear he wanted an advantageous marriage for his daughter.
‘Good afternoon to you both,’ she bid them in parting. Lord Brentford’s broad smile never faded as he continued down the corridor.
The maidservant, Johanna, showed her to a room decorated in shades of green and cream. Though it was small, each piece of furniture was exquisite, with warm shades of wood and shining brass handles.
Hannah gave instructions for her trunks to be delivered to the Schloss, along with her maid Estelle. Johanna promised to make the necessary arrangements.
An hour later, when Johanna returned with Estelle and the trunks, Hannah asked her maid, ‘Where is Mrs Turner?’
‘She remained at the Graf’s estate,’ Estelle answered. ‘On his orders.’
Likely to keep her safe, Hannah mused. Still, she wished for the woman’s friendly presence.
Behind the two maidservants, a tall, elegant lady entered the room. Her grey hair was pulled into a neat coiffeur, and she wore a flounced maroon dress with draping sleeves.
‘I am Lady Schmertach, head of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting,’ the woman introduced herself. ‘There are certain rules that all guests must abide by, and I am here to see to it that you understand them.’
Were all guests greeted this way? Hannah wondered. She felt rather like a child in the schoolroom, preparing to receive instructions.
After Lady Schmertach seated herself upon the velvet sofa, she cleared her throat. ‘First and foremost, you are not to address the King or Queen under any circumstances. Should they choose to speak with you, they will send an attendant to fetch you.’
Rather like a pet dog, Hannah thought. While she listened, Estelle and Johanna began helping her to dress. She noticed that they had selected a rose damask gown flecked with silver threads. It had not been one of her favorites, and she interjected, ‘I would prefer the violet tarlatan with the flowers embroidered on the overskirt.’
Lady Schmertach’s expression hardened. ‘I was not finished explaining matters to you, Lady Hannah. Please do not interrupt. Courtesy is another rule by which we abide here.’
Years of Hannah’s own training in courtesy prevented her from snapping out her own retort at the Queen’s lady. She bit her lip. ‘You were saying?’
Estelle continued working with Johanna, fitting the rose dress over Hannah’s corset. Hannah hid her displeasure, waiting for the older woman to finish her lecture.
‘You will be seated at the end of the table, along with the other unmarried ladies.’
A little pang squeezed at her heart. So, Michael had not told anyone that they were married. She should have expected it, for it gave her a means of leaving the Schloss without anyone noticing.
Lady Schmertach continued her long diatribe, explaining that she should not expect to dance with Fürst Karl, nor to be introduced. ‘Royal marriages are not fairy tales,’ she insisted. ‘They are political alliances that benefit both countries. So you must not allow yourself to fall into the common belief that he will notice you.’
Johanna picked up a hairbrush and began to comb Hannah’s hair into a severe knot that pulled at her face. Hannah was beginning to feel like a doll, dressed up in ribbons and lace, unable to move without someone pushing her limbs into place.
‘Do you understand all that I have instructed you?’ Lady Schmertach asked. ‘Have you any questions about how to conduct yourself this evening?’
‘No.’ She understood perfectly well that she was to remain exactly in her chair and to keep a full distance from the royal family.
‘Good. Graf von Reischor has informed me that your cousins will arrive shortly to escort you back to Germany.’ With a prim smile, she rose from her chair. ‘I hope you enjoy the hospitality this evening.’
Hannah’s temples ached from the tight hairpins, and she ordered Johanna and Estelle to leave her alone. When they had gone, she stripped away every pin until her hair hung down below her shoulders.
What is the matter with me? she wondered. Why can’t I tell them what it is I really want? The words of protest seemed weighted down by years of obedience.
There was a soft knock on the door. Hannah called out, ‘Enter’, expecting one of the maids to return.
Instead, Michael stepped inside. He closed the door behind him, seemingly surprised to find her alone.
Hannah stood, wondering if she was supposed to curtsy before him. He hadn’t changed his clothing from this morning, and his cravat hung crooked at his throat as if he’d tugged at it. She resisted the urge to correct it. ‘Was there something you needed?’
His dark gaze fixed upon her. ‘Yes. There’s something I needed.’
All the blood seemed to rush to her face, and prickles rose up on her skin. Whether it was nerves or simply the intense awareness of Michael, she didn’t know. She forced herself to sit down.
‘The Graf gave you the chance to leave, earlier today,’ he began. ‘But you didn’t take it. Why?’
She drew on one of her gloves. ‘Because I promised I would stay here for a few days longer. To help you grow accustomed to your new life here.’
‘Is that the only reason?’
No. I didn’t want to leave you. ‘What other reason would there be?’
His gaze swept over her gown,
but he made no comment. ‘I saw that Viscount Brentford and his family are here.’
‘Yes, I spoke with him and Miss Nelson.’ She grimaced. ‘Though they don’t know you’re the real Prince. I suppose it doesn’t matter whether it’s you or Fürst Karl. And it won’t be the last time you’ll be pursued by eager fathers and daughters.’
‘Does it bother you?’ He folded his arms across his chest.
Of course it bothered her. But she couldn’t do anything about it. ‘What do you expect me to say? That I’m jealous?’ Her shield of calm collapsed into pieces. It wasn’t women like Miss Nelson who bothered her. No, it was the soldier’s mask that never revealed a hint of Michael’s feelings.
‘No. You wouldn’t be, would you?’ he responded. ‘I can see that you’ve made your decision already.’
She crossed the room and stood in front of him. ‘What decision? What decision have I ever been allowed to make? You’ve already made up your mind about me and what you think I want. Just as Estelle and Johanna have decided what I’ll wear and how my hair should be arranged. And Graf von Reischor has decided that I’ll be returning home to my cousins.’
She rose from her chair and crossed towards him. With a not-so-gentle push, she said, ‘My decisions don’t seem to matter in the least, so why bother asking?’
He caught her in his arms. ‘Because I don’t believe what you told me this morning.’ He tilted her face to his, their mouths the barest breath apart. ‘I don’t know which is worse…forcing you to live a life you don’t want…or letting you go.’
His hazel eyes were full of desire, his mouth achingly close to kissing hers. God help her, she needed him so much. Being without him was going to rip her heart apart.
‘Make your decision, Hannah.’ He pressed the ring into her palm. ‘Either become my Princess in truth. Or leave.’
He withdrew from her embrace, walking away. When the door closed behind him, she stared down at her rose gown. She didn’t care for the colour, nor did she want to wear the pearls Estelle had chosen.
She hated herself and what she had become. And then her gaze fell upon a list Estelle had made, detailing everything Lady Schmertach had instructed.
The Accidental Princess Page 22
