The English Bride

by Joan Wolf

  The chief justice said sharply, "How is that, Your Highness?"

  "When Guardsman Kurt asked Marshal Rupnik how he had chosen him for the job, Rupnik informed him that he was chosen because Kurt was helped to his place in the Household Guard by Count Adamov and Rupnik was certain that Kurt would be loyal to the count."

  "The devil!" said the newly returned Baron Krek.

  "Did Rupnik implicate Count Adamov in any other way?" the chief justice demanded.

  "No, he did not, and to be truthful, at the time it never occurred to me that Count Adamov might be involved. But when I learned he was coming to Zosi to arrest me, and when I read this proclamation, it finally became clear to me that in Count Adamov I had a devious and deadly enemy."

  "Really, Gus," Franz drawled. "Aren't you being a little dramatic?"

  "Am I?" the Prince returned, his face grim.

  In the ensuing silence, every eye in the room slowly turned to focus on the figure of the chief justice. Count Cherny's chair was placed just below the dais, and the high-backed red velvet throne, with its gilded lions, loomed behind him as a potent reminder of what was at stake here today.

  Count Cherny said, "There are eight other names on this proclamation besides Count Adamov's. Would any of those men care to make a statement?"

  Someone moved, and then Count Boris Heusse rose to his feet. "My lord Chief Justice," he said in a calm, clear voice, "my colleagues and I have been deeply surprised by what we have heard here today. We signed that proclamation because we believed Count Adamov when he informed us of the emperor's threats against our beloved country. If this is not true, then we have no quarrel with Prince Augustus. Indeed, I rejoice that our country can continue to be led by such a proven patriot as Prince Augustus has always shown himself to be."

  In the silence that followed Baron Heusse's comments, Baron Krek said to Count Sauder sotto voce, "Heusse is dumping Franz and trying to save his own skin."

  The chief justice said, "Count Heusse, what were your plans for Prince Augustus if you had been successful in arresting him at Zosi?"

  The count replied promptly, "My lord, our plans were as Count Adamov told you. We planned to issue our proclamation and then escort Prince Augustus to Julia to face a vote of the diet."

  The chief justice did not look as if he believed this statement. However, he turned to the Prince and asked, "Prince Augustus, are you willing to accept Count Heusse's account of this attempted coup?"

  "I am," Augustus replied steadily.

  "Augustus can't possibly believe him," Baron Krek said cynically.

  "Neither do I," Count Sauder replied. "But this is the best way. No one wants to put these men on trial for treason."

  "God, no," the other replied fervently.

  Augustus was saying much the same thing. "I am willing to believe that the Jurian nobles who signed that infamous proclamation were misled by Count Adamov and acted in what they thought were the best interests of their country. However"—and his voice hardened—"in the future, I would prefer that these nobles kept to their own estates and refrained from meeting as a group."

  "I believe that is a very fair request, Your Highness," the chief justice said. "Are you gentlemen in agreement?"

  Yeses and ayes issued from the mouths of the frightened conspirators.

  "And what of Count Adamov?" the chief justice asked Augustus next.

  "You have no proof against me," Franz said calmly. "All you have is speculation."

  Augustus suddenly looked very weary. "I don't want him in Jura," he said to the chief justice. "I never want to see him again."

  "I can revoke his passport," Count Cherny said. "Will that do, Your Highness?"

  The two men, Prince and Chief Justice of Jura, looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. We do not want an international incident over this.

  Slowly Augustus nodded his head. "Revoke his passport," he agreed. Then, without another word, he walked to the door. The room watched in silence until he had disappeared into the vestibule, then Count Cherny said, "I do not believe that any vote of the diet is necessary."

  There was a murmur of agreement. Count Cherny paused, to see if there might be any objections, but no one spoke. Finally he said, "We will meet back here tomorrow at ten o'clock so that Prince Augustus may formally open the February 1816 session of the diet."

  Franz stood alone as the members of the diet began to get to their feet and talk among themselves. Count Sauder watched as the chief justice approached him and said something. Franz's face was pinched and white and the eyes he turned to the chief justice glittered with sudden naked hatred.

  Count Cherny took a step back. Then Franz's normal expression returned and he shrugged and replied to the chief justice. The two men left the chamber together.

  27

  While Charity was waiting for Augustus to return to Count Sauder's villa, she drank four cups of coffee and almost wore out a portion of the count's Chinese rug with her pacing. The coffee did nothing to calm her nerves, which were already overwrought by early pregnancy, and when Augustus finally walked into the count's elegant Chinese salon, she collapsed on the sofa and burst into tears.

  Harry, who had been standing against the fireplace for the last hour trying to calm her down, quietly moved to the door and went out.

  "Charity!" The Prince strode across the room, sat beside his wife, and gathered her into his arms. "There's nothing to cry about, my dear. Everything went just as I told you it would. Franz is disgraced and I am still the Prince of Jura."

  All of the fear and tension that Charity had been bottling up inside for so many days exploded into a storm of weeping. She pressed her face into his coat and sobbed uncontrollably.

  "Don't," he kept saying as he patted the back of the blue wool dress she had been wearing for days. "Charity, love, don't. It can't be good for you to upset yourself like this. There is no need." He increased the tempo of his patting. "You're ruining my coat."

  The Prince had been more fortunate than Charity in that he had left a change of clothes at Count Sauder's the last time he visited. This had been providential indeed as neither the count nor Emil were tall enough for him to borrow anything of theirs.

  Charity felt the sogginess under her cheek and struggled to control herself.

  "Here." He put a large white handkerchief in her hand and she lifted her face out of his coat and scrubbed it dry with the square of linen. Then she blew her nose.

  "It’s amazing how such a little appendage can make so much noise," he said humorously, and she managed to produce a watery smile.

  "I'm sorry, Augustus. I don't know what came over me. I'm not usually such a watering pot."

  "No, you're not," he agreed. He was looking at her anxiously. "Are you all right now?"

  She blew her nose again and took a deep, steadying breath. "Yes."

  "Would you like to hear what happened at the diet this morning?"

  "Yes." She sniffed and straightened up.Her eyes fell on the empty coffee pot and cups that were scattered on Count Sauder's elegant bamboo-style table. "Would you like some coffee, Augustus?"

  "I would love some coffee," he said fervently.

  She picked up the bell that was reposing on the table along with the empty cups, and while they waited for the fresh coffee to be brought he started to tell her what had taken place that morning at the diet. The coffee came, she poured him a cup, prudently refrained from having any more herself, and listened intently as he continued his recitation. She said nothing, only nodding her approval a number of times, but when he told her what he had decided to do about Franz, she exploded.

  "You just let him go?" She couldn't believe what she had just heard. "He deserves to be hung, drawn, and quartered." She glared at her husband in outraged indignation. "I can't believe that all you did was revoke his passport!"

  He was looking at her in bemused amazement. "I used to think you were such a sweet little thing," he said wonderingly. "I never suspected you were so bloodth
irsty."

  "I am exceedingly bloodthirsty when it comes to your safety," she assured him. "Just because Franz isn't allowed to enter Jura doesn't mean he will stop plotting against you, Augustus! He managed to influence Rupnik and Hindenberg from Vienna without any trouble."

  He replied in a soothing voice that only succeeded in irritating her further, "He has been discredited here in Jura, and he has been discredited with the emperor as well. I think we have disabled him, Charity. There is nothing for you to worry about."

  "I am not a child, Augustus," she flared. "The man is dangerous. You have every reason to arrest him. He lied to you!"

  At this last comment a thoughtful look came over the Prince's face. "You know, Charity, I am not so certain that he did lie."

  Silence fell as she digested this comment. Finally she said, "Are you saying you think it is the emperor who is lying and not Franz?"

  He finished his coffee and returned the delicate Sevres cup and saucer to the table. "Not necessarily."

  She frowned. "I don't understand."

  He swung around on the sofa to face her, which caused some difficulty as his long legs got tangled up in the legs of the table. He muttered a curse under his breath and she smiled. Finally he got himself sorted out and began to explain his thinking to her. "I doubt that Franz would have gone as far as he did if he had not first cleared his actions with someone in Vienna. His little coup attempt did not involve just Jura; it involved Austria as well. If Franz had been successful in putting Anton on the throne of Jura, you can be certain the deal was that Austria would recognize the new prince as legitimate and in return Jura would defer her national interests to the interests of the empire."

  Charity was thinking furiously. "But you don't think the person involved in Franz's plot was the emperor?"

  "There is a good possibility that Francis wasn't involved."

  "Who do you think this other person was?"

  He looked at her in silence and did not reply.

  "Metternich," she said at last.

  He nodded briefly; his face was very somber.

  "Oh Augustus." Her hands began to twist his handkerchief into a knot.

  He said, "My suspicion is that Metternich agreed to this plan because he felt he couldn't lose. He would win if I gave in and agreed to renounce the Treaty of London. He would win if I didn't give in and Franz was able to discredit me and replace me with the more compliant Anton. The worst that could happen is what did happen—which leaves Austria in the same position it was in before. Metternich has gained nothing, but he has lost nothing either."

  Charity had been growing more and more indignant as he spoke. "If that is so, then Metternich is worse than . . . than Machiavelli. Why on earth are you trying to keep this quiet, Augustus? Don't you think the emperor should know what kind of devious plot his chief minister was involved in?"

  He said patiently, "I have no proof, Charity. And even if I did, that is a Pandora's box I do not want to open. It wouldn't be smart for me to antagonize the emperor any more than I already have. It is better for both countries to pretend that only Franz was involved in this plot."

  "What about Anton then?" she demanded next. Her hands had stopped twisting the handkerchief and held it now balled within her fist. "How much do you think he knew? Remember, he told you that he had spoken directly to the emperor, and that most certainly was a lie."

  He shrugged. "What do I think? I think that Anton was a pawn. I think that Franz told him the message he was to deliver came directly from the emperor, and when I asked Anton if he had spoken to the emperor himself, he wanted to show me how important he was and so he said that he had."

  She scanned his face. "Then you don't think Anton was involved in the coup attempt?"

  "I don't know, Charity. I don't think so, but I don't know."

  Her fine brows were knitted in thought. "The men who signed that outrageous proclamation were all Anton's friends."

  "I realize that," he replied calmly. "They were all men who felt that they had been shut out of power in my administration and that they would count for something under Anton. I am sure Franz played on that ambition."

  She closed her other hand around the fist that was holding his handkerchief. "Well, I think you should take away Anton's passport as well as Franz's."

  "I will," he promised. "He has lived comfortably in Vienna for many years; it will not be a hardship for him to continue to do so."

  She scowled. Her sense of justice was still outraged by this too-easy solution. She said stubbornly, "I still think you should execute Franz."

  "He is your sister's husband."

  "He is a snake. Lydia would be well rid of him."

  "I cannot just execute him, Charity," Augustus pointed out reasonably. "He has to have a trial first. And I just finished telling you that I don't want to risk alienating Austria any further. It is best if I simply exile him and let things be."

  "Huh." Charity narrowed her eyes. "I never trusted him."

  "Unfortunately, I did." He looked somber. "It is still hard for me to believe that the cousin I grew up with is the man that Franz has turned out to be."

  She loosened her grip on his handkerchief and the temper died away from her eyes. When she spoke again her voice was soft. "He is like a sun-filled mountain meadow that you feel perfectly safe running across, only to discover too late that the beautiful wildflowers are hiding a series of treacherous sinkholes."

  "A good metaphor," he said wryly.

  They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Charity was the one to speak first. "What do we do now?"

  He looked at her. "Go home."

  They began to smile at the exact same moment, and he put down his coffee cup and reached out to gather her into his arms. "I'm glad you're here," he said. "I'm glad you made me bring you."

  Her head was resting against his chest and she was listening to the steady beats of his heart: thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. So even, so steadfast, so strong, so calm.

  Thank you, God. Thank you for keeping him safe. Thank you for bringing him back to me.

  "It seems like an age since we've been at the Pfalz," she murmured.

  "Mmm. It will feel good to get back to my own bed."

  Against her cheek, his heartbeat went reassuringly on.

  "Your bed or mine?" she said.

  She could feel the rumble of laughter deep in his chest. "Is there a difference?"

  She moved her head in a slow negative. "No."

  Outside the snow began to fall, and inside the door opened three times as various people looked in, but Charity and Augustus sat on, wrapped in the peace of each other's arms.

  The formal opening of the Jurian diet occurred a day later than scheduled, but it was certainly one of the most memorable opening days in the legislature's long history. To Charity's delight, Augustus had asked her to attend. She had every intention of going, but it was sweet to know that he wanted her to come.

  They rode into the city together, and the shining black royal coach drawn by four perfectly matched gray Lipizzaners stopped first at the Diet House's main door to let Charity and Harry out. Then it moved off to take Augustus around the block to the door from which he would be making his entrance.

  Inside the vestibule, Emil and two of Charity's ladies were waiting for her. Stefanie came over to straighten her green velvet hat, which matched the green velvet pelisse she wore. "You look wonderful, Your Highness," she said.

  Charity took a deep breath and hoped her face did not show the flutters she was feeling in her stomach. "Thank you, Steffi. Shall we go in?"

  The porter, who was dressed in knee breeches, white stockings, and a long-tailed coat, opened the door for her. As she stepped through he announced to the chamber in ringing tones: "Her Royal Highness, Princess Charity."

  The assembled men rose to their feet. As Charity came into the chamber proper, escorted by Harry and followed by the rest of her party, the initial sound of men standing and chairs sc
raping died away and total silence reigned in the large room.

  I wonder if I will ever grow accustomed to this kind of attention, she thought as she began to walk down the aisle in the direction of the stairs that led to the spectator's gallery. She glanced quickly at the crowd of bowing men, nodded a brief acknowledgment, then focused on the path in front of her, anxious to reach the shelter of the gallery.

  It isn't so bad when I am with Augustus, she thought. Then I know that everyone is looking at him, not me.

  She was halfway past the rows of chairs occupied by the commons when the two men who represented Julia began to clap. The representatives from other parts of Jura where Charity had begun to set up her relief centers joined in. In a heartbeat the entire chamber, nobles included, joined in a sustained ovation that lasted until she and her party had disappeared into the enclosed staircase.

  Charity's face was flushed and her eyes were bright as she turned to Emil at the top of the stairs. "Was that for me?" she asked in amazement.

  He smiled. "It certainly was, Your Highness."

  Harry, who was grinning like a maniac, said, "I doubt very much if Lydia would have received such a welcome. I'm proud of you, Char."

  "It was because I represent Augustus," she said breathlessly.

  Emil said, “No, Your Highness, it was for you, and it was well deserved. It was in recognition of all the good that you have done for the people of Jura."

  "Wait till I tell Papa," Harry said. "He will be pleased as punch."

  "Here, Your Highness," Lady Stefanie said. "This is your chair."

  Charity moved to the high-backed state chair Stefanie had indicated and took her place in the center of the gallery. Her heart was still pounding and her face was still flushed. She had never expected such a thing to happen!

  Gradually the buzz of talk in the chamber died down and an air of expectation took its place. Finally the moment they were all waiting for arrived; the doors in the rear of the chamber which had been reserved for the reigning prince since the Diet House had first been built, opened. A deep voice, which Charity later learned belonged to the Lord High Steward, boomed, "His Royal Highness, Prince Augustus."