The English Bride

by Joan Wolf

  23

  January 27, 1816

  Franz was incandescent with fury when he arrived at Zosi with Colonel Luska's cavalry regiment and found only Charity's ladies in residence. It took all of Stefanie's courage to meet his blazing eyes and tell him that the Prince had received a letter early in the morning and had left immediately, taking his wife, her brother, and Lords Stefan and Emil with him.

  "Who delivered this letter?" Franz demanded, the softness of his voice in contrast to the violence of his eyes.

  "I did not know the man, Count," Stefanie said steadily.

  "Well, then," Franz said, with a pleasantry that somehow managed to be absolutely petrifying, "Perhaps you can tell me where I might find this messenger now."

  "I believe he left, Count." Stefanie's face never changed, even though she knew perfectly well that Baroness Zais's servant was hiding in one of the villa's attics. She also professed not to know the Prince's destination, but this was one question to which Franz already had guessed the answer.

  "He has headed for the mountains and his old network of supporters," he told Colonel Luska, "Look at the weather. We won't catch him now."

  After a private conversation with Luska, which left the colonel pale as a corpse, the cavalry regiment returned to its headquarters in Lipizza while Franz rode by himself back to Julia in the snow. During the hours he spent on the road he forced himself to push his anger aside and focus on the problem posed by Augustus's escape.

  The Prince now would know who was his enemy. It was essential that Franz act before Augustus did.

  Dark had fallen when his tired horse crossed the bridge over the Kava and trotted wearily into Julia. Franz rode directly to the stable of Count Boris Heusse and ordered the count's grooms to see to his horse. Then he walked across the stable yard to the palace, where a servant let him in.

  "Franz!" Count Heusse smiled at the wet figure standing in his Chinese anteroom. "Have you accomplished it then?"

  Franz did not return the smile. "Someone warned him," he said. "He got away to the mountains."

  The count staggered and reached out to steady himself on the edge of a fragile Chinese-style table. "Oh no," he said. He looked absolutely aghast. "What are we going to do?"

  Briefly, Franz told the count the plan he had decided upon during his ride back to Julia. Next he told him to send for the rest of the conspirators.

  "But it's dinnertime, dear boy," the count protested, having been interrupted in the midst of his own meal.

  Franz merely looked at him, and the count left the room to send servants to all the appropriate homes. Within half an hour, the treasonous allies were gathered around the big table in the count's library listening in appalled silence as Franz told them what had occurred at Zosi earlier in the day.

  "Oh my God, oh my God," Baron Hertling moaned. He had wrapped his arms around himself and was rocking back and forth in his chair, like a woman who has just learned of the death of a beloved child. "He will have us executed. We must flee the country right away."

  Lord Nikolo Appel slammed his hand down on the table, causing the baron to jump and almost knock over the inkstand that had been placed in front of him. Lord Nikolo ignored the trembling baron and said loudly, "How the devil did Augustus find out? Someone must have warned him. I want to know who did it!" He glared around the table, his eyes touching the face of each of his fellow conspirators. "Who betrayed us?"

  The rest of the men darted fearful glances around the table as well. Then Franz said, in the same cold voice with which he had informed them of his mission's failure, "I believe Colonel Luska is the culprit. Apparently, in an effort to impress Baroness Zais, whom he wishes to wed, he told her that he had expectations of becoming Marshal of Jura. This occurred yesterday evening—and Augustus was warned early this morning."

  "He told Eva Zais?" Baron Zapolya, the colonel's brother-in-law, said incredulously.

  Franz's eyes glittered like blue glass. "That is what he confessed to me."

  "Jesus!" Lord Nikolo exploded, causing Baron Hertling to jump once again. "Eva Zais and Augustus have been lovers for years. Everyone knows that!"

  Franz said, "Apparently they are lovers no more, but also apparently the lady still feels a certain loyalty to him. She must have sent to warn him. There is no other way he could possibly have discovered our intentions."

  It was Baron Hertling who voiced the question that had been on every man's mind since he had heard of the Prince's escape. "Did Luska tell her our names?"

  Franz looked at the apprehensive faces that were turned to him and replied evenly, "He says he did not, but can we believe him?"

  Baron Hertling wrung his hands. "What are we going to do? What are we going to do? He will kill us. I know he will kill us."

  "He will certainly kill us if we do nothing but sit around and moan," Franz said contemptuously. "Obviously we must proceed with our original plan. The only real change in our strategy is that, instead of being on a ship to England, Augustus is now hiding in the mountains."

  "That is a big difference," Hertling bleated in reply.

  Murmurs of fervent agreement came from the other men.

  "It is not so different as you may think," Franz returned. "We have the power base of Julia and he does not. We have the resources of the newspapers and the printing presses. We have the wherewithal to get our message out to the people. Augustus has none of these things available to him in the mountains."

  "That is so," Lord Nikolo said. "If we move fast, we can have this coup accomplished before he is able to retaliate."

  "Exactly," Franz said. "Once they are made aware of the situation, I believe the nobles of Jura will stand with us."

  "Franz is right," Count Heusse said firmly. "The first thing we must do is issue a proclamation declaring Anton to be our new prince. As Franz has said, I am quite certain that we will have the nobles behind us."

  "The commons worship Augustus," Baron Hertling moaned.

  "They will not worship him if they think he is leading them into another war," Franz said coldly.

  "Franz is right," Baron Zapolya said.

  "What about the Household Guard?" Lord Nikolo said. "Will they rally to Augustus?"

  Franz shook his head impatiently. "Not if we act swiftly. First we must issue this proclamation." He gestured to the scroll that lay on the table before him. "This will explain our actions, and legitimize them. Once the population has digested what is in this proclamation, support for Augustus will waver."

  "What is in this proclamation?" Baron Hertling demanded.

  "Exactly what we all decided should be in it," Franz replied. "I will read it to you and I believe you will find it both succinct and compelling." Slowly he unrolled the scroll and held it spread open on the table before him. Then he read:

  To the Nobles and Commons of Jura: In the name of God and of that Peace which all men of good will both Desire and Deserve, Jura, through us, has cast out her most contentious prince, Augustus, and summoned to the throne in his stead, Anton, the Cousin of our late beloved prince, Ivan.

  We take this momentous step because the said Augustus has shown himself a Tyrant who is indifferent to the best Welfare of his People. To prove this charge, we submit these Facts to the people of Jura and to the World.

  He has betrayed his Country by willfully, and without proper Advice, making a Treaty with a Foreign Power that gives that Power's navy the Freedom of one of our most Precious Treasures, the seaport of Seista.

  He has willfully antagonized the Emperor of Austria, to the degree where Austria is considering the taking up of Arms against us, thus destroying the Peace won so dearly with Jurian lives.

  He has endangered Jura's lifeblood, her Trade, by causing the Emperor of Austria to threaten to place Tariffs on Jurian goods, thus Rendering them Non-Competitive in the empire's vast markets.

  Because the said Augustus has acted Dangerously and Arbitrarily, without counsel of either chamber of the Diet, and in Defiance of his country'
s Welfare, we declare him Unfit to be our Prince and call upon all right-minded Julians to stand with us and welcome Prince Anton to serve in his Stead.

  Franz's voice died away, and for a moment the popping noise coming from the logs upon the fire was the only sound in the room. Then Baron Zapolya said, "That's good."

  "Yes, it is," several other men agreed.

  "We will publish this proclamation tomorrow," Franz said. "Julia will get it immediately and we will send it off to the rest of the country. The diet convenes in four days and I will read this proclamation to the assembled chambers on opening day and ask for their support. Once we have the support of the diet, we will have succeeded in our mission. The military will not act in defiance of the legislative body."

  "What if the diet does not give its approval?" Baron Hertling said.

  "It will," Franz replied. "I will make the speech myself. The representatives will listen to me."

  The assembled men looked at his supremely confident face and believed him. The sense of relief in the room was palpable.

  Franz picked up a pen and said, "Now all that we must do is sign this proclamation." And he dipped the pen into its adjacent inkstand and wrote in a clear, elegant script: Count Franz Adamov.

  There was perfect silence while he waited for the ink to dry. Then he passed the paper to Lord Nikolo, who was sitting next to him, and Lord Nikolo signed his name as well.

  In this way, the paper went around the room until it came to the last man, Baron Leopold Hertling. "I don't know," the baron said nervously.

  "If you are not with us, Baron, you are against us," Franz said coldly. "You joined us because you agreed with our complaints against Augustus, but if you are too fearful to sign your name, you may go. Just do not expect to be included in any of our future plans."

  After a moment, Baron Hertling, hand shaking, signed the paper.

  24

  When Charity opened heavy eyes the morning after their arrival in Namek, the Prince's side of the bed was empty. A fire blazed in the large stone fireplace and she realized that Augustus must have built it when he got up. A knock sounded on the hut door, it opened, and Natalya came in. She was carrying a tray of food, and Charity's stomach heaved as the smell of bacon reached her.

  "Please, Natalya," she said faintly. "Not now. I will eat later."

  "The Prince said for me to bring you breakfast," the woman said as she continued to advance toward the bed, the smell of bacon becoming ever stronger.

  "I—I haven't been feeling very well in the mornings lately," Charity said. "Please—take it away before I become sick."

  Without another word, Natalya turned and went out again, carrying the vile-smelling food with her. Charity breathed deeply and slowly to settle her stomach, and was just thinking that she should try to get up so she could find Augustus, when the door opened once more and Natalya came back in, this time without the tray. Charity struggled to sit up and the woman said quickly, "Please, stay where you are, Princess."

  Charity's stomach protested the change in equilibrium, but she fought the sick feeling down and pushed herself up against her pillows, meeting Natalya's eyes, which were bright with curiosity. "Are you often ill in the mornings, Princess?"

  "Sometimes I am," Charity replied cautiously.

  Natalya removed her gray wool cloak and folded it across one of the chairs set around the table. Then she came over to the bed, stopping a few feet away from Charity and regarding her out of piercing blue eyes. "Do you feel better later in the day?"

  Slowly, so as not to overset her stomach, Charity nodded.

  The blue stare became brighter. "Are you with child, Princess?"

  Charity's eyes fell away from that razor-sharp look. She bit her lip and did not reply.

  Natalya asked in a calm, practical voice, "How long has it been since last you bled?"

  In truth, it was a relief to talk about this to someone at last, and Natalya's age made Charity feel a little as if she were speaking to her grandmother. She looked up and met the woman's eyes. "About eight weeks," she confided.

  "And this is unusual for you?"

  "Yes. I am usually very regular, once a month."

  The old woman smiled at her warmly, came over to stand next to the bed, and patted Charity's shoulder. "Then, Princess, I think it is probably safe to conclude that you are with child."

  Charity gave her a trembling smile in return and was about to ask her a question when the cabin door opened and the Prince came in. He closed the door behind him and was halfway across the room when Natalya, hands on hips, confronted him. "Augustus, what were you thinking of, to drag this child on such a horrendous ride when she is carrying your heir. She might have miscarried!"

  The Prince stopped dead and looked anxiously at his wife. "Are you all right, Charity?"

  "I am perfectly fine, Augustus," she replied calmly. "Do not worry, your heir is safe."

  "No thanks to you," Natalya snapped at him. "I repeat, what were you thinking of, to drag a pregnant girl from the comfortable safety of Zosi out into a snowstorm?"

  Augustus looked at the old woman as if she were insane. For the first time, Charity noticed that he was dressed as if he were going to be riding out somewhere; his coat was fully buttoned and his wool scarf was draped around his neck. Only his head was bare; he was holding his hat in his hand. " 'The comfortable safety of Zosi'?" he repeated incredulously, still staring at Natalya. "Perhaps you have not noticed, old woman, but I rode here in fear for my life. Did you expect me to leave Charity behind in a place where I was not safe myself?"

  "Franz would not have harmed her, and she might have lost the child," Natalya said. "It was foolish in the extreme to have brought her with you."

  Augustus was now walking toward the bed. His anxious gaze was still on Charity, but his words were directed to Natalya. "Charity is the most precious thing in the world to me," he said. "Nothing on this earth would induce me to leave her to the mercy of Franz." He reached the bed and looked down into his wife's suddenly flushed face. "Are you sure you are all right?"

  "Y-yes," she stammered.

  He bent down and kissed her forehead. When he straightened up again the gray eyes that looked into hers were deadly serious. "I hope you do not lose this child, my dear, but it is your health that is my main concern." His lips curved in a wry smile, but his eyes remained grave. "I can always get another child, but I cannot get another Charity."

  Charity felt her eyes fill with tears. "Oh, Augustus.”

  He picked up her hand. "I have to leave," he said. "Emil and I are riding into Sostri, which is the nearest town where we can get a newspaper."

  All Charity wanted to do was to ask him if it was true, if he had meant what he had said to Natalya, that she really was the most precious thing in the world to him, but she looked up into his face and realized that there was no time for a personal discussion. He was leaving . . . and then the realization of what he had just said registered in her brain. She pushed herself up straighter and glared at him.

  "Are you mad, Augustus? You can't just walk into a town and buy a newspaper! Who knows where Franz may have his spies!"

  He shook his head impatiently. "I will be perfectly safe in Sostri, Charity. The mountain people are loyal. But it is twenty miles away and the roads are clogged with snow. The papers from Julia are usually a day late, and they may be even later because of the weather. Don't look for me to return today."

  He was leaving. He had just said that she was the most precious thing in the world to him, that he could not get another Charity, and now he was leaving. He might be captured. She might never see him again.

  Charity gazed up at her husband, her heart in her eyes, and said, "I love you, Augustus. Please be careful."

  He bent down from his great height and kissed her mouth. "I love you too. Take care of yourself. Listen to Natalya."

  He straightened up and turned away, his mind already on what he was going to be doing next. Charity sat in silence and watched as th
e door closed behind him, her mind focused on the words that had changed everything for her.

  Charity is the most precious thing in the world to me.

  And he said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary, as if it were something that everyone in the world must know!

  And then, when she had told him that she loved him, he had replied I love you too in the same perfectly matter-of-fact manner.

  She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. Have I been making myself miserable all this time for no reason at all? Did I simply have to speak first to get this magnificent reassurance of his feelings for me?

  "You have had no cramping or stomach pains since you arrived?"

  It took Charity a moment to realize that Natalya was still in the room and was speaking to her. She finally managed to reply, "No, no. I have felt fine, Natalya, really."

  "That is good," the older woman said. "I think it would be a good idea for you to remain in bed for the day, Princess. Just to make certain. You don't want to do anything that might risk the life of your child."

  "No," Charity agreed, "I don't want to do that."

  Natalya gave her a brisk nod and an approving smile. "You are good for Augustus. I am happy that he has married you. And you, Princess, are a very lucky girl to have married a man as wonderful as our prince."

  "Yes," Charity replied honestly. "I am."

  Augustus was away from Namek for two days, and when he returned he was in possession of a newspaper dated January 28. He and Emil rode into the tiny mountain village late in the afternoon, put their horses in the big barn that housed an assortment of animals, and went toward Natalya's house, which had smoke pouring out of its chimney.

  Their entrance sent a blast of cold air across the room, and the two women seated by the fire turned to see who had come in. Charity was holding wool for Natalya while the older woman spun it, and in the firelight, with her grave young face and her plain blue dress and her long hair in a simple braid, Augustus thought she looked like a Giorgione Madonna. I wish I could have a painting of her as she looks just now, he thought.