by Joan Wolf
Eva sat beside the Prince on a backless Roman couch and served him coffee. She had been deeply surprised by the letter she received from him a month ago. She had been the recipient of a number of letters from Augustus during the course of their rather long relationship, so she knew very well what they were usually like—short, informative, and very much to the point. What had made this one so extraordinary was that it had been about absolutely nothing at all.
Augustus did not write letters about nothing, and she had known immediately that something was wrong. She looked now at the tensely strung man sitting beside her and realized that her instinct had been correct. Something was very wrong indeed.
What is it, Augustus? She opened her lips to say the words, but then held back. She knew him well enough to understand that it was impossible to breach his reserve with questions; one had to wait until he was ready to confide. In dealing with Augustus, patience was the supreme virtue.
That was how it had been when they first met. Young as he was, she had wanted him from the start. And it had not been just because he was a prince. There was something about Augustus that made a woman feel . . . made her feel . . . Eva sipped her coffee and lowered her suddenly heavy eyelids. Made her feel like going to bed with him. She shot him a swift sideways look. It's that damn dimple in his chin that does it.
She had waited for him that first time, waited until he had looked at her with an expression she recognized, and then she had let him know that she desired him too. So this time also she would wait.
She thought that the problem had to be his marriage. Trouble with a woman would be the one thing that would have made him turn to her. Triumph flickered through her at the thought. Eva had never fooled herself into thinking that Augustus would wed her, but when she learned of his marriage to a young and lovely English girl, it had hurt. It had hurt far more than she thought it would. It was petty of her, perhaps, but she was glad the marriage wasn't a success.
All the while these thoughts had been going through her mind, they had been chatting about the upcoming festivities for Ozbald Day.
"You have given us back our national pride," she told him now.
He laughed a little harshly. "I have given Jura a few national celebrations, that is all I have done so far."
"No." She shook her head and fell silent for a moment, trying to find the words to explain to him what he meant to the people of his country. "I remember how I felt when first I saw you. Your men brought you to my villa because you had been injured and I remember looking at you as you sat there in front of my fire: young, haggard, feverish, wounded. I remember how I thought, That is my prince. He has not run away like so many of the other nobles. He is staying and he is fighting for us. And I felt such pride in you, Augustus. I felt, If he can fight for Jura, then so can I."
He looked at her with darkening eyes. "Did you really think that, Eva?"
She smiled at him. She was a lovely woman and looked at least ten years younger than her age. "I did."
He was very pale and a muscle jumped in his cheek. He said hoarsely, "Eva, I should get out of here."
By now his eyes were so dark they were nearly black, and she had no trouble at all recognizing the emotion that they held. "My dear," she said softly, "what is between you and me is between you and me. It cannot hurt anyone else."
He shook his head, like a man trying to shake off a slowly overpowering narcotic. She reached out, picked up his hand, and laid it on her breast.
His fingers closed, instantly. He groaned. Then his mouth was coming down on hers and she surrendered to the intense pleasure of his kiss.
Two days before the anniversary of Ozbald Day, the Prince imported a traveling circus. The residents of Julia and the farmers from the surrounding area and their children were entertained by dancers who performed on tightropes and acrobats who leaped on and off of horses, by a pony that could count, and a man who could swallow fire.
"There was even a man who rode four horses at once, Augustus," Charity said as they ate a small supper with their respective staffs before going into Julia for the evening's entertainment.
The Prince looked at his wife's sparkling eyes and laughed. "Now how could he do that?"
She paused with a forkful of chicken held halfway to her mouth. "The horses were lined up four abreast and he stood with one foot on each of the outside horses. He galloped them, Augustus! It was so exciting. I wish you had seen it."
"Did you attend the circus as well, my lady?" Lord Stefan asked Lady Stefanie Havek, the young woman who had become Charity's chief lady-in-waiting.
"Indeed I did, my lord," Stefanie replied with as much enthusiasm as Charity. "I liked the tightrope dancers the best."
Charity nodded, her mouth full of chicken. When she had swallowed she added her recommendation. "They were excellent also. Indeed, if we did not have to attend this masquerade tonight, I would have gone to see the circus again."
"I realize it is outrageous of me to expect you to give up a circus for a mere masquerade ball, my dear," the Prince said teasingly. "What an ogre you must think me."
Everyone at the table laughed.
Charity felt a frisson of alarm run up and down her back at the sound of that gently teasing tone. Something was different about Augustus. She had thought so yesterday, and today the change seemed even more evident.
For some reason, the Prince had transformed back into the man he was on their honeymoon. For these last two days he had been relaxed and comfortable with her, as he had been at Lake Leive and during those few wonderful weeks after they had returned to the Pfalz. He was as he had been before he stopped having breakfast with her, stopped confiding in her, stopped being alone with her.
Charity, who had suffered greatly from his aloofness, realized that she should be jumping with joy to have her husband back. But some deep feminine instinct was making her feel profoundly uneasy about this too sudden about-face. If someone had asked her to explain her uneasiness, she would have been unable to articulate a reason, but it was definitely there.
Husband and wife rode together in the royal coach and chatted pleasantly the whole way into Julia. The masquerade was being held in one of the loveliest of the city's Renaissance palaces, and as a footman handed Charity out of the coach, she gazed with appreciation at the brilliantly lit scene before her.
The palace steps were lined with footmen holding torches, and as she and the Prince waited, a red velvet carpet was spread for them to walk upon. Lady Stefanie, who had arrived in the carriage ahead of the royal one, stepped forward to straighten Charity's pink satin train and make a quick adjustment to her diamond tiara. Then she and Augustus were slowly ascending the stairs.They moved through the palace to stand in the doorway of a large salon that had been arranged as a ballroom for the evening. Charity listened to their names being intoned by the majordomo: "His Royal Highness Prince Augustus and Her Royal Highness Princess Charity."
Is that really me? she thought. Will I ever grow accustomed to hearing myself called by that name? Then, as they progressed down the center aisle of the room, where the crowd parted for them like the Red Sea for Moses, the men bowed and the women sank into deep curtseys and she wanted to laugh and say, It's only me, Charity Debritt. You really don't have to do that.
But she felt the weight of the satin train behind her and the pinch of the beautiful diamond tiara digging into her scalp and knew that she wasn't Charity Debritt anymore; she was the Princess of Jura. Her life was irrevocably changed, and she had better get used to it.
Everyone in the room wore dominoes and masks except Charity and the Prince. For the first few dances they sat in gilt chairs upon a low dais that had been erected for them in the front of the room, but then the orchestra struck up a waltz and Augustus turned to her and said with a grin, "May I have this dance, Madam Wife?"
As they stood together on the floor, Charity with her train swept over her arm and her head not even reaching to his shoulder, she looked up into his eyes and said, "Pleas
e don't take big steps, Augustus, or I shall never keep up with you."
"Don't worry," he promised, and moved off into the dance.
Dancing with Augustus was the most blissful experience of Charity's life. She loved the feeling of being so close to him, their bodies in such harmony that they moved as one. She felt she could go on dancing with him forever, and when the music stopped she swayed a little, not wanting to be parted from him.
They finished next to a lavender domino that Charity recognized as belonging to Lady Stefanie, and the Prince evidently recognized Lord Emil as her partner because he made a comment to him about the music. The four of them began to move off the floor together when the music for the next dance began. The Prince asked Stefanie to dance and Lord Emil asked Charity.
Charity danced once more with her husband during the course of the evening, and he spent some time sitting beside her on the royal dais and chatting with visiting friends, but Charity noticed that he danced twice with a blonde woman in a dark green domino and mask. He danced with several other women also, but only once. And his head did not bend to theirs with that air of intimacy that was like a dagger to her heart.
Charity was never one to shirk an unpleasant task, so when she and the Prince were on their way home in the carriage, she asked him, "Who was that woman you danced with, Augustus? The woman in the green domino?"
He showed no surprise at her question, but answered with perfect readiness. "Baroness Zais. She was very good to me during the war. She nursed me back to health once when I was wounded."
It was too dark to see his face, but his voice sounded perfectly normal. She nursed him when he was injured. It was not until she felt relief flood through her that Charity realized how afraid she had been.
She inhaled deeply and turned to look at his shadowy profile. "I didn't know that you had been injured."
"I took a bullet in the shoulder. It wasn't that bad a wound, but it wasn't healing. Stefan and Emil brought me to Eva's villa, and she took care of me."
Eva. At his use of the baroness's Christian name, a little of Charity's relief dried up.
They entered the Pfalz together, and when Charity said that she was tired and was going directly to bed, the Prince seconded her. "It's been a long day."
The two of them walked in the direction of the west wing, where their respective apartments lay. From his position behind them in the Banqueting Room, Lord Emil called, "Don't forget you have an early appointment tomorrow, Gus."
"I will remember," the Prince called back over his shoulder.
There had been an oddly urgent note in Emil's voice, and Charity gave her husband a curious glance. They passed the two Household Guards stationed at the entrance to the west wing and Charity asked, "Is the meeting about the conspiracy, Augustus?"
"What?" He looked at her in confusion. Then his brow smoothed out. "No, no, nothing like that. It is just the French ambassador—nothing unusual."
They had reached the door to her apartment, and he looked down at her. "You looked lovely tonight, my dear."
"Thank you, Augustus," she replied gravely.
He bent from his much greater height and kissed her cheek. "Sleep well."
Impulsively, Charity reached up to fling her arms around his neck and kiss him on the mouth, but her arms had scarcely moved before he stepped away. She blinked in surprise. He had moved so quickly he almost jumped.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. He wasn't quite meeting her eyes. "Good night, my dear."
"Good night, Augustus," she replied quietly, and turned away to allow him to continue along the passage to his own rooms.
Her maid was waiting to undress her, but once she was in her nightgown with her hair brushed out, she did not get immediately into bed. Instead she dismissed her maid, put on her dressing gown, and paced restlessly around her bedroom for a good half hour, her mind in turmoil. For some reason, it bothered her terribly that she had not been able to kiss her husband good night At last she realized that she was far too agitated to sleep.
I must speak to Augustus. We have to make things right between us. We have to make this marriage a real one. I won't sleep a wink if I don't see him and tell him how I am feeling.
Abruptly, before she could change her mind or lose her courage, she acted. The Prince's apartment was right next to hers in the palace's west wing; the door on the west wall of her bedroom led into her dressing room, and the door in her dressing room led into his dressing room. Charity picked up the candle from her bedside table and, for the first time in her life, walked through all of those doors. She didn't stop until she was standing at the very last one, which led from the Prince's dressing room into his bedroom. There she hesitated, but the urgency of the impulse that had driven her to make this move was still strong, and she drew a deep, uneven breath and knocked.
The only reply was silence.
She knocked again.
Still there was silence.
This time, along with knocking, she called his name.
Nothing.
An image of Augustus lying smothered in his bed flashed into Charity's mind, and she pushed the door open and burst inside.
The room was empty. The bedcovers had been turned back, but the pristine smoothness of the sheets and pillows indicated clearly that no one had slept there. There was no sign of Augustus anywhere.
At first, Charity was stunned. Where was he? He had gone to bed when she did, a little more than an hour before.
Perhaps he had not gone directly to bed, she thought. Perhaps he was sitting up in one of the other rooms of his apartment, deep in conversation with . . . with whom? He had left Lord Stefan and Lord Emil behind in the Banqueting Room. She remembered the words Lord Emil had called after him: Don't forget you have an early appointment tomorrow, Gus.
She had thought the appointment must be very important for Emil to have reminded him. But Augustus had told her it was only the French ambassador. So . . . so perhaps Emil had said that because he knew that Augustus would be out very late tonight and he didn't want him to oversleep.
Charity began to shiver uncontrollably. "No," she said out loud. "No. I won't believe it."
But the image of Augustus dancing with a blonde woman in a dark green domino kept rising in front of her tightly shut eyes. Eva, an insistent voice kept whispering in her ears. Eva. Eva. Eva . . .
Abruptly, Charity fled, running blindly back to her own bedroom, where she threw herself onto her solitary bed and began to sob as if she would never be able to stop.
17
Toward dawn Charity was so exhausted that she fell into a fitful sleep, and the following day her schedule was so busy she simply didn't have time to brood about what had happened the previous night. She attended Ozbald Day parties at three different venues in Julia and then drove to an orphanage in a nearby town for a party there.
She shared her carriage with Lady Stefanie on the way back to the Pfalz after the orphanage party, and she was grateful for her lady-in-waiting's cheerful company. Stefanie's chatter helped keep her mind off her upcoming meeting with Augustus.
Charity was profoundly nervous about meeting her husband after what she had discovered the night before. She didn't know how she should behave, what she should say, what she should do. She had never felt so young, so stupid, so utterly unsophisticated.
She knew well enough what she wanted to say. I trusted you and you betrayed me. Those were the words she wanted to hurl at him, like stones to break the glass wall of his indifference. But she was sophisticated enough to realize that he would not see the situation as she saw it, nor would the world see it her way either. Her grandmother had warned her. If a man cannot find satisfaction at home, then he will look for it elsewhere.
She had refused to believe that Augustus was like that, but apparently he was.
Charity was still listening to Lady Stefanie as they mounted the Pfalz's double fan staircase and entered the Banqueting Room. There they were met by Helmut, the palace chief of staff, who gave
Charity a long-suffering look as he informed her that Princess Caterina had arrived an hour ago with an entourage of Vecchios in tow. Charity would find her mother-in-law in the sitting room of the Princess's Apartment, taking tea.
"Good heavens," Charity said.
Helmut nodded in gloomy sympathy.
"Does His Highness know his mother is here?" she inquired.
"Not yet, Your Highness. He has not yet returned from the hunt."
Lady Stefanie said, "She never wrote to let you know she was coming, Your Highness?"
Charity shook her head and straightened her shoulders. "Well, I suppose I had better go and see her."
"Would you like me to come along?" Stefanie inquired.
Charity flashed her a quick smile. "No, but thank you for offering, Steffi." She looked back at Helmut. "You said that she was in my sitting room?"
"Yes, Your Highness. I am very sorry, but she insisted, and it is very difficult to refuse Princess Caterina when she insists on something."
"Yes," Charity said. "I know." Thinking to herself that this was a most inopportune moment for Augustus's mama to appear, she crossed the Banqueting Room and entered the west wing.
Princess Caterina looked perfectly at home in Charity's private sitting room. She was dressed in a rich green velvet afternoon gown, which matched her eyes, and her posture on the sofa was designed to display her magnificent figure in the most provocative manner. She looked up as Charity entered and announced in ringing Italian, "I have come." She then held out her hand and inclined her face so that Charity, the reigning princess, could come over to kiss her cheek. After Charity had performed this office, Caterina informed her, "It was my duty. I know how much my presence will mean to my good people of Jura."
Charity, who had thought she would never laugh again, felt the familiar bubble of amusement that the princess always induced in her. She said, "How lovely to see you, Princess. What a nice surprise this is."