by Joan Wolf
Then she saw him and her face lit with joy, and he thought that he would like to have a painting of her looking like that also.
"Augustus!" She dropped the wool, jumped to her feet, and ran to him. He laughed and lifted her against his cold wool chest in a giant hug.
"What a nice greeting," he said, returning her to her feet.
"Gus! You're back!" It was Stefan coming in the door, and behind him Harry, Charity's brother.
"Did you learn anything?" Stefan demanded.
"Yes, we did." He sniffed the air and looked at Natalya. "Is that mutton stew I smell?"
Her blue eyes glowed. "It is indeed, Augustus. If you will take off your coats and come to the table, I will serve it."
Augustus looked around the room. "Where is Karl?"
"He will be here," Natalya said about her husband. "He was bringing in the goats."
As the Prince and the other men divested themselves of their warm outerwear, he looked around the room with pleasure. It was only the second time he had seen Karl and Natalya's new house, which he had paid for, and he was pleased with what he saw. This room was twice as large as the single room in the hut where they had lived before, and it also had two separate bedrooms as well as a loft.
The Prince went toward the table and the others followed, Charity sitting on one side of him and Emil on the other. Karl came in as his wife was bringing bowls of stew to the table and took his place as well.
The stew was delicious. The Prince ate with relish and checked out of the side of his eye to see if his wife was eating. He was relieved to see that she was.
"Have some bread, Augustus," Natalya said.
He took a slice of the crusty white bread that Charity passed to him. "Delicious," he pronounced. "No one makes bread as good as yours, Natalya."
"Your wife made that bread," Natalya said.
"Charity made this bread?" He turned to her in astonishment.
She raised one delicate eyebrow. "You don't have to look so incredulous, Augustus."
"It's just . . . I didn't know you could bake bread."
"I couldn't," she returned serenely. "Natalya showed me."
He shook his head in wonder. "Well, it is nice to know that if we are thrown out of Jura and become vagabonds, at least we won't starve."
Now she looked fierce. "That isn't funny. No one is going to throw you out of Jura."
From the other side of the table, Stefan said, "You said you had learned something in Sostri, Gus. What was it?"
He took another bite of Charity's bread. It really was delicious. "If you look in my coat pocket you will find a newspaper with Franz's proclamation on the front page."
Stefan jumped up, went over to where the coats were hung on nails hammered into the wall, and extracted a newspaper from the Prince's pocket. He stood for a moment by the door, reading the paper. He muttered something under his breath and Charity commanded, "Read it out loud, Stefan. We all want to know what it says."
Slowly, Stefan returned to the table, still reading as he walked. When he reached his chair he did not sit down, but stood behind it and began to read the proclamation out loud.
Augustus listened to Stefan read the words that Franz had written about him and still found it hard to believe that it was his cousin, the boy he had grown up with, who had said these terrible things. Betrayed his Country, Franz had written. Willfully Antagonized the Emperor of Austria . . . acted dangerously and Arbitrarily . . . Unfit to be our Prince . . .
As soon as Stefan stopped speaking, a chorus of indignation arose from around the table. Charity's voice was the clearest. "That is outrageous!" She turned to look at him. "No one could possibly believe that any of that is true."
Augustus, who had thought deeply about the things that Franz had written, answered, "But I did act arbitrarily, Charity. I knew very well what my father's old counselors would say about a treaty with Great Britain, and so I did not ask them for their advice. I went ahead and did what I thought would be in the best interests of Jura, and I acted on my own."
"It was your legal right as Prince of Jura to do that," Stefan said as he quietly resumed his seat.
"I know that," he agreed. "I would not have done it otherwise. But Franz is being very clever. He is not just attacking my judgment; what he is saying here is that I should not have acted without the consent of the diet. He is talking about changing the prince's prerogatives, about making Jura more of a constitutional state, and this may very well find favor in the diet."
Harry looked puzzled. "I don't understand, Gus. This proclamation doesn't say anything about a constitutional change."
The Prince rested his fork on the table and explained, "Franz has gone beyond even what he put in the proclamation. I have information that he is going to address the diet on its opening day and ask both chambers to vote to replace me with Anton. As I said, Franz is very clever. If Jura's legislative body rejects me and calls upon Anton to be its new prince, that will leave me in a very awkward situation indeed."
"Where did you hear this?" Stefan asked sharply.
"Emil and I met John Vardo as we were leaving Sostri this morning," Augustus said. He gave Charity a quick glance and explained, "Vardo is Sostri's representative to the diet." He looked back across the table at Stefan. "John was already in Julia for the opening of the diet, and he learned that Franz had told the mayor that he would ask for a vote on the issue of who is to be the prince. John hired a horse and rode like hell to get back to Sostri so he could tell me what was happening."
"How did he know you would be in Sostri?" Charity demanded.
"He knew I would be somewhere in the area," Augustus explained. "John often helped us during the war."
"Damn Franz," Stefan said violently. "Do you think he has a chance of getting a favorable vote, Gus?"
The Prince answered soberly, "He has a very good chance if his side is the only side the diet hears."
He could hear Charity's breath catch in a little sob.
"What are you going to do?" Harry asked. He sounded curious, not concerned. He seemed perfectly confident that Augustus would know exactly what to do about this situation. The Prince looked at the rest of the faces at the table and saw the same confidence in every gaze.
I hope their faith is rewarded, he thought a little wryly. Out loud he said, "It's simple. In order to counter Franz's charges, I must address the diet myself."
The wind blew noisily in the chimney and the fire hissed. Otherwise the room was silent. Finally Stefan said, "Franz won't let you near the building."
"He won't know I'm there until it's too late," Augustus said calmly.
"How will you do it?" Stefan asked.
"Emil's father's estate is just outside of Julia. I'll ride there tomorrow and then, on the following day, go into Julia in Count Sauder's coach. As a noble, he is a member of the upper chamber, and he will be expected to attend the opening-day ceremonies. The coach will deposit us right in front of the Diet House and there I will be. Franz will have no choice but to allow me to speak for myself."
Emil said, "Gus is right. Once he is on the premises, Franz will have to let him speak. It will look as if he's afraid of him if he doesn't."
Stefan said slowly, "It does sound like a good plan."
Natalya got up and began to clear away the dishes. Charity rose to help her.
"No, no, Princess," the older woman said. "It is not right that you should help me."
"I want to," Charity replied serenely, and she plucked her husband's bowl from in front of him.
Augustus smothered a grin. That serenity of Charity's was a powerful weapon. He had seen her get her way countless times by using that same sweet, implacable composure.
The men continued to discuss the situation as the women cleared the table. Then Augustus heard Charity say, "I believe I will go to bed, Natalya. I am feeling a little tired."
"Go right along, Princess," Natalya said, and Augustus watched as his wife put on her coat and went quietly out the door.
He remained at the table for another half hour discussing his plan, then he excused himself, put on his coat, and went out into the night. The inky sky was filled with a dazzling array of brilliant stars. Only in the mountains did the stars look like this, he thought, as he inhaled the cold frosty air deeply into his lungs.
The fire was burning brightly when he stepped into the guest hut, and Charity was sitting up in bed, propped against her pillows. Their eyes met as he came in the door.
"A cold night," he said.
"Yes."
He divested himself of his heavy coat at the door and hung it on the nail provided for such a purpose. Next he pulled off his boots and placed them neatly along the wall under his coat. Wearing his hunting shirt and trousers and warm wool socks, he padded silently across the room to the foot of the bed, where he stopped and looked at his wife.
Her long-sleeved white nightgown was immaculate in the firelight. Her hair looked clean and shining and her skin looked rose-petal soft. He was suddenly acutely conscious that he had been wearing the same clothes for the last four days and that he had slept for the last two nights in a smoky, smelly inn.
"I haven't had a bath since we left Zosi," he said. "I'm not clean enough to get into bed with you."
"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "You look tired. Take off your clothes and get in here under this nice warm quilt."
He wanted to get in with her so much that he didn't have the strength to protest any further. "I am tired," he admitted, and, walking to his side of the bed, he began to pull his heavy, smoke-smelling shirt over his head. He said, his voice a little muffled by the folds of his shirt, "I never thought about being dirty when I was hiding in the mountains before, but that was because everyone else was just as dirty as I was. You look so dainty and clean in your white nightdress. Your hair is shining just like it always does." He tossed his shirt on the floor and began to unbuckle his belt.
"I haven't had a bath either," Charity said. "I've just sponged here and there. We can be dirty together."
He finished stripping off his trousers and cast one rueful glance down at his slim, long-muscled body. "I probably smell," he said apologetically.
"I like your smell."
He got into bed, reached for her, and pulled her close. "You are wonderful," he said fervently. He lowered his mouth toward hers. "God, I have missed you."
Now that the corrosive doubt that had stood for weeks as a barrier between them had finally fallen, Charity's body flamed up at his very first touch. His mouth on hers was hard and hungry, and she met him eagerly, lifting herself to press against him, running her hands over the muscles of his shoulders and back, rejoicing in the feel of him under her fingers, under her lips, against her skin, so strong, so alive, so hers.
"Charity." He was kissing her throat, moving his head lower, to her breasts, which were made easily available by the nightgown buttons she had so conveniently left open for him. She felt the roughness of his beard on her tender skin and the erotic feel of his mouth on her nipples. Her whole body began to quiver like the strings of an instrument that has been struck. He continued to kiss her and stroke her and she trembled as if she were being splintered into a million pieces.
The muscles of his back felt rock-hard under her tense fingers and a sweet, hot liquid surge of sensation answered to the touch of his fingers in her softest, most secret flesh. And then he buried himself within her and she opened to him, opened to his urgency, his maleness, everything inside her quivering and softening beneath his powerful thrusts until a mighty orgasm rolled up from deep inside, so that her whole body shuddered violently again and again, the pleasure intensifying with each roll of sensation until her mouth opened in a silent scream of finality and fulfillment.
Afterward, he lay quietly, his body bathed in sweat, his heart hammering, his head driven into the hollow of her shoulder. She felt the heat of him, the weight of him, and thought her heart would break with love. She turned her head and rested her lips on his damp blond hair. "I love you," she said.
"I love you too," he replied. He still sounded out of breath.
She smiled. Unbelievable to think that it had been as easy as this.
A little time passed. "Augustus? You're not going to sleep, are you?"
"Mmm?"
"Wake up," Charity said. "We have to talk."
He yawned hugely. "I'm sorry, Charity. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you like that." He removed his head from her shoulder, sat up, rubbed his head, and gave her a charming, boyish grin. "You tired me out."
"Do you want me to apologize?"
"No!" He rubbed his head again, making a thorough job of ruffling his hair. "I need to talk to you as well." Another quick grin. "I might even be able to pay attention to a conversation, which I certainly could not have done when I first came into this room."
He looked so pleased with himself. Charity smiled warmly back at him, and as they settled against their pillows for the promised talk, he picked up her hand.
Charity began. "You are set on this? You will challenge Franz in front of the diet and ask them to vote for which of you they want to lead Jura?"
"I have to do it," he replied. "There is no other way out of this fix that does not involve bloodshed."
"I know that you are right, Augustus, but I am afraid."
"It will be very democratic," he assured her. "Quite like the Americans. There is nothing to be afraid of."
"Augustus . . ." She bit her lip. "I do not think this will happen, but . . . what if the diet chooses Franz? What will happen then?"
"Then I will have lost and you will be the wife of an ex-prince of Jura." She could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Perhaps we can take up horse training for a living. Or you can sell bread."
Charity didn't respond to the joke. "Will Franz let you go, Augustus? If the vote goes against you, will Franz let you go?"
"He will have to, Charity. It is very undemocratic to kill the person you have beaten in an election. The Americans would be horrified."
She did not smile.
"I am not going to lose the vote, Charity." He spoke with calm assurance. "It is Franz who will be discredited, not me."
"I know." She squeezed his hand. "No one in their right mind would choose Franz over you."
He didn't answer.
"Lydia was not in her right mind," she added.
He laughed.
"I suppose we must leave for Julia tomorrow if you are to be there in time for the opening of the diet," she said.
"Charity." She could feel his own hand tense. "I want you to remain here. I will send for you as soon as the diet meeting is over, I promise. But I will be much more comfortable if I know you are safe here in Namek."
She pulled her hand away from his and turned to look at him. "You just told me it would be safe for you to go to Julia. If it is safe for you, why wouldn't it be safe for me?"
"I think there is a ninety-nine percent chance that you will be safe in Julia," he said reasonably. "I am just not willing to risk that last one percent chance that something could go wrong."
She looked into his reasonable eyes and said with great calm, "I want to be there if something should go wrong even more than if everything goes right."
He frowned. "Listen to me, my dear—"
But she shook her head. "No, Augustus. I am very sorry not to oblige you, but I am going with you to the opening of the diet."
His mouth took on the look that meant his mind was made up, but before he could speak she said hastily, "I didn't think you loved me, you know."
He blinked at the change of subject. "I beg your pardon?"
"I didn't think you loved me. That is why I was so distant over Christmas."
He was still looking bemused. "Why on earth wouldn't you think I loved you?"
"You never said so."
He began to look more alert. "Is that why you were always asleep when I came to bed and why you were always talking with that Broder fellow?"
"Yes."
"Good God." He stared at her. "Well, why didn't you say something to me, for God's sake? How could you think I didn't love you? I hung around you like a bee around honey!"
Her loose hair streamed forward, hiding her face, and she pushed it back behind her ear. "Your mother told me you only wanted an heir."
"My mother?" He almost shouted the words. "I can't believe what I am hearing. Are you saying that you were foolish enough to actually listen to my mother?"
She sighed. "I am afraid that I was."
He thrust his fingers through his hair, which needed a cut quite badly, and said disgustedly, "I might have known that Mama would manage to screw things up."
She tilted her head to look at him and at the sight of him in the lamplight her heart turned over. Getting a firm grip on herself, she said steadily, "You do love me, don't you Augustus?"
"Yes," he replied. "I can't imagine my life without you. And I am sorry I was so stupid and never told you how I felt." He frowned. "I'm . . . I'm not very good at that, Charity. I've spent most of my life with men, and men don't talk very much about their feelings." He gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry."
Her smile was radiant. "I love you so much, and I am so happy, Augustus. And you can make me even happier by letting me come into Julia to the diet with you."
His face changed, becoming still and quiet. His gray eyes narrowed. "Have you been trying to manipulate me?"
Charity's heart began to thump. All of a sudden he looked so cold. "No, Augustus. I am trying to explain how happy I am to discover that you love me the way I love you. I am so happy to be here at Namek with you, and I want to go to Julia with you as well. If I thought my presence would be a danger to you, or to our child, I would not ask to come. But if you turn into the kind of husband whose idea of 'keeping Charity safe' is not allowing me to take any reasonable risk at all, I must warn you that I am going to rebel."
Silence fell as the two of them looked at each other.
At last he said, "I am a man, I am accustomed to taking risks. You are a woman. It is different."