Leading Lady

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Leading Lady Page 19

by Jane Aiken Hodge


  ‘Someone.’ Martha had had time to think about it. ‘Your father, do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I was mad to leave him at Gustavsberg. I’m sorry, Martha … But they won’t hurt Franz, I’m sure. They are civilised people after all, the French.’

  ‘No one is entirely civilised when he’s afraid,’ said Martha.

  ‘You’re right. So we must reassure them. There’s a guard on the outside door here, I take it?’

  ‘Yes, but they’ve been very civil about it, I must say. Anna comes to and fro … Everyone seems to know … About me …’

  ‘Good. I told you they were civilised. Fathers themselves, some of them, missing their wives. I wonder … Cristabel?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Would there be a French officer’s uniform in the wardrobe at the opera house?’

  ‘Bound to be.’

  ‘And someone who speaks good French?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘I could find someone.’

  ‘Good. Dress him in uniform. Tell him to cut up through the vineyards, come down to the palace by the mountain road, exhausted, with a tale of a foundered horse and lost despatches … and an urgent summons from the Emperor. Every man needed for the siege of Vienna. Who would dare disobey that?’

  ‘It’s certainly worth a try,’ said Cristabel. ‘But how am I to get down to the opera house? I’m afraid the French know about that tunnel. Everyone does.’

  ‘Yes, a pity. But I think we can manage. I am about to emerge, very much the prince. Take control, if I can. It’s worth a try. Straight from your husband’s deathbed.’ To Cristabel. ‘Give her a handkerchief, Martha. The desolate widow. I’m sorry!’ He had seen Cristabel flinch. ‘We need Anna, Martha.’

  ‘She should be here any minute.’ She cocked her head, listening, gestured them to silence. ‘And here she is.’ They could hear Anna speaking to the guard outside as he opened the door for her.

  ‘Oh, thank God!’ Anna saw Joseph, closed the door firmly behind her. ‘You’re safe, highness!’

  ‘For the moment. What’s happening in the palace, Anna? And where are my brothers?’

  ‘Prince Franz is in the armoury, under guard. I’m sorry –’ to Martha, ‘they wouldn’t let me see him. He’s being held hostage for you, sir. They won’t hurt him.’ This to Martha again.

  ‘And Max?’

  ‘They’ve not got him. No one knows where he is. They are still looking.’

  ‘He’s the one who knows the palace best,’ said Joseph. ‘With a bit of luck he got clean away in the confusion when the French took over the castle. And that reminds me, the French officers, Anna. What are they doing?’

  ‘Sir, I don’t think they know what to do. They’re all in the great hall … arguing. They’re frightened, I think. I don’t understand much French, more’s the pity.’

  ‘Time I went to them. They need a leader, and that’s what I’m going to be. Can you get the guard away from the door, Anna? Just long enough for Lady Cristabel and me to get out without being seen?’

  ‘Oh, I think so, sir,’ said Anna cheerfully. ‘He’s not a bad chap, that guard. He’s even learned a little Liss. If I can get him down to the end of the hall, could you slip out, quickly, while he’s busy.’

  ‘Admirable!’ Nobody asked what the sentry would be busy doing. Joseph bent to kiss Martha on both cheeks. ‘Take care of yourself and our little Lissenberger, Martha. And I’ll send Franz to you just as soon as I can.’

  ‘Dear Joseph.’ She smiled up at him mistily. ‘I know you will.’ She and Cristabel exchanged a quick hug. ‘I’ve never said how sorry I am.’

  ‘No time,’ said Cristabel. ‘Poor Desmond.’

  The two of them slipped quickly down the corridor with just one amused glance for the sentry, who, with Anna in his arms, was totally oblivious. ‘This way.’ Joseph had studied his palace since taking it over and led the way quickly down a series of side passages, to emerge, suddenly, close to the dais in the great hall.

  It was babel. So far as he could see, all the French officers were present, all frantically talking on a rising tide of noise. He took the steps of the dais in a stride. ‘Silence!’ The command, shouted in French, was almost instantly effective. ‘What madness is this?’ He went on over the last few fragments of anxious talk. ‘What folly have you idiots been committing while I’ve been away at Monsieur Fylde’s deathbed? Who is in charge at Lissenberg? Who at Brundt? Worst of all, who is watching Prince Gustav?’ He singled out three faces in the crowd, beckoned them to him. ‘You, you and you. What explanation can you give for leaving your posts?’

  ‘It’s a conspiracy, sir, a dangerous one.’ The officer who had been in charge at Lissenberg hurried to explain himself. ‘We were all to have been murdered in our beds. Last night, it was to have been. My friend here got the word –’

  ‘Yes.’ The man from Brundt took up the tale. ‘By sheer good fortune one of my men overheard two of the conspirators. Bloodcurdling it was, he said. Everyone of us to be killed; no quarter; dead men tell no tales. Then you and Mademoiselle de Beauharnais were to be held hostage for Napoleon’s pardon. There was no time to be lost, sir, you must see that. Last night, it was to have been. This was the only place we had a chance of holding out!’

  ‘And who were these two dangerous conspirators?’ asked Joseph. And then, ‘But I am forgetting. Hals!’ He had seen the baron, looking miserable, at the back of the crowd. ‘Arrange a carriage for Lady Cristabel at once. Her husband has just died; she needs to be at home.’ Taking obedience for granted, he turned back to the French officer. ‘The conspirators’ names?’

  ‘Two prominent citizens of Brundt, sir. Frau Schmidt, who is some kind of connection of your brother’s, I believe. We’ve got Prince Franz safe under guard, in case he’s involved. And a Jew, Ishmael Brodski.’

  ‘I see.’ He thought he was beginning to see a great deal. ‘And who is guarding Prince Gustav?’ He turned to the officer who had been in charge at Gustavsberg.

  ‘My orders were just to come away, sir.’ The man shuffled his feet.

  Here was a complication Joseph had not thought of. What would Gustav do when he found himself free? But the conspirators at Brundt must have thought of this hazard; he must assume that they would have arranged for a Lissenberg guard to take over if the French should panic as they hoped. And as, amazingly, they had. At one overheard conversation between an old lady and a foreigner. But then the French must be accustomed to treachery and violence. And, he smiled to himself, Frau Schmidt and Ishmael Brodski were a formidable pair. He must play the hand they had dealt him for all it was worth. And, most important of all, he must keep the French officers occupied and give Cristabel time to find her messenger.

  ‘Orders given by you?’ He barked the question at the man from Brundt, the senior of the three officers.

  ‘There was not a moment to be lost. We’ve got the palace well guarded, sir, but I reckon they won’t try anything now they’ve lost the element of surprise.’

  ‘It was to be last night you say?’

  ‘Yes, at midnight. Throats cut in our beds! They could have done it too, sir, you must know that as well as I do. Total surprise! Who’d have thought it of these mild Lissenbergers? Pulled the wool over our eyes good and proper they have. Why, I myself –’ He paused, reddening, and Joseph remembered something he had heard about him and Maria, the seconda donna at the opera house. ‘It don’t bear thinking of,’ he went on. ‘And what we don’t know, sir, if you’ll forgive my saying so, is whether your brothers are involved or not. We’ve got Franz, the one that was prince, safe in the guard-room here, but we can’t find a trace of young Max. Which makes me a mite anxious, sir.’ In the relief of sharing the problem with which he felt himself burdened he had forgotten any initial suspicions he might have had of Joseph. But then, why should he suspect him? Joseph had always been Napoleon’s man, after all.

  ‘He’s probably hard at work down at the opera house, knows nothing about any of t
his. But fetch Prince Franz; it’s time I talked to him.’ It had to be done, but it was unbelievably dangerous. How much did Franz understand of what was happening, and, most important of all, in this crisis, would he trust him? Would he believe him to be acting for Lissenberg and not for Napoleon?

  Franz looked exhausted, anxious and angry. All very dangerous emotions at this dangerous moment. If only I spoke Liss, thought Joseph, and then, no, that would be too risky, it must be French, to be understood by all. He looked his younger brother up and down as he stood between two French dragoons, hands tied behind his back. ‘I have to ask you, Franz, if you are involved in this diabolical conspiracy of the Lissenbergers.’

  ‘What diabolical conspiracy? Nobody has told me anything! They just burst in and tied me up. And what I want to know, Joseph, is how Martha is.’

  Joseph very nearly told him, remembered at the last moment that so far as the French were concerned he did not know himself. ‘Where is the princess?’ he asked the officer from Brundt.

  ‘In her own apartments, sir. Her maid’s with her. We don’t make war on ladies.’

  ‘Even if they make war on you?’ He turned to Franz. ‘I’m sorry to tell you, Franz, that your foster mother seems to be involved in a fiendish plot against the French. She and Brodski were overheard planning it. The French were all to have been murdered in their beds last night They took over the palace in self defence. Otherwise, none of them would have been alive this morning.’ He said this very straight to Franz, who was watching him as if his life depended on it. Which it very likely did. All their lives.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ said Franz slowly at last. ‘But – you, Joseph, what did they plan for you?’

  ‘Minette and I were to be held hostages for Napoleon’s pardon. That reminds me –’ He turned to the French officer. ‘One thing you don’t know – They’d have failed there. Mademoiselle de Beauharnais left two days ago. An urgent summons from her uncle, I understand. I would have been their only hostage, and not a very valuable one, I am afraid. I’m only valuable to Napoleon as a Lissenberger,’ he reminded the French officers. ‘But I wish I knew why the Emperor summoned his niece away so suddenly.’ Here was an unexpectedly strong card in his hand and he played it for all he was worth. ‘We all thought she would stay through the winter.’

  ‘She’s gone?’ Amazed. ‘But she was at the party …’ They had all been at the party. It seemed a thousand years ago.

  ‘She left the next day. I didn’t see her, but I do know she went in a hurry. We were a little anxious for her, in fact. The road will be closed any moment now, I think, and then, here we are …’ He paused a moment to let the unpalatable truth strike home, then went on, ‘So we had best take counsel together as to how we are to hold Lissenberg, with our limited numbers, in the face of this shocking threat. Oh – and untie my brother’s hands, for goodness sake. Anyone can see he is as amazed as the rest of us. Do you happen to know where Max is, Franz? Our friends have not managed to find him. I said I thought he was probably down at the opera house.’

  ‘Very likely.’ Franz shrugged. ‘He usually is.’ He was massaging his freed wrists. ‘Have I your permission to go and see Martha, Joseph? I don’t like to think of her alone at this anxious time.’

  ‘Of course. But, please, a quick visit, just to reassure her. Then, there is something I want you to do for me, Franz. In their moment of crisis, these gentlemen appear to have left Gustavsberg unguarded. Take a small band of Lissenbergers. The palace guard – They’re sound to a man – you need not have disarmed them –’ To the three French officers. ‘And make sure that no harm has come to Prince Gustav.’

  ‘Gladly.’ The brothers exchanged a long, thoughtful look.

  ‘And give my best regards to Princess Martha. Tell her she has nothing to fear, and urge her to take care of herself, and of Lissenberg’s future.’ He turned back to the French officers. ‘Now, gentlemen, let us consider what is best to do for Lissenberg’s safety – and yours.’

  But they had not got far with the insoluble problem of holding down a mountainous country apparently hell-bent on the most desperate kind of guerrilla warfare when there was a commotion outside and Baron Hals appeared. ‘There’s a man come down from the mountains, highness.’ He ignored the French officers, addressing Joseph. ‘From the Trappists. He says it’s urgent. Will you see him?’

  ‘At once.’

  Chapter 17

  It was starting to snow again as Franz set out for Gustavsberg with a picked band from the palace guard. They were still in a state of shock and shame at having been taken so completely by surprise the night before. ‘It all happened so fast,’ was all they could say. ‘And they were desperate, those Frenchmen.’

  ‘They were frightened men. Thought they were all going to be murdered in their beds.’

  ‘Pity we didn’t think of it, really,’ said one of the men. ‘I’d be happy to see the back of them, I don’t know about you, sir?

  ‘Well, of course,’ said Franz.

  ‘And your brother? Prince Joseph? That’s what we need to know. I reckon if we’d been sure about him we’d have put up a fight last night. But there he is thick as thieves with them this morning.’ It was not exactly a question, but intended as one.

  ‘Of course he is!’ Franz had not wasted his time with Martha. ‘He’s taken, command in the hopes of persuading them to leave peacefully before the road is closed.’

  ‘He’ll never manage that surely, sir?’

  ‘He managed to take over Lissenberg,’ said Franz.

  ‘And you trust him?’

  ‘Absolutely. As he trusts me. And now we had better save our breath for the road.’ They had reached the point where the Gustavsberg road branched off, and no clearing had been done. From then on it was a hard, breathless struggle through newly drifted snow and there was no more talk.

  They had crossed the open ridge and started down the thickly forested slope towards Gustav’s castle when Franz stopped, raised a hand for silence. At first, all they could hear was silence itself, the deep quiet of soft-falling snow, then, from below, somewhere in the thick of the forest, came the sound of a voice, carrying strangely through the great quietness. They were silent for a minute, then heard it again. ‘Coming this way,’ breathed one of the men.

  ‘Yes.’ Franz kept his own voice to a whisper. ‘No way to tell how many. Into the trees. Don’t move, don’t fire, nothing till I give the sign. Pass the word along. And, quietly!’ They had the advantage of the ground, the snow-covered track sloped away from them, visible for a hundred yards or more.

  Impossible to tell how far away the other party was, nor how many they were. It was cold, standing in the steadily falling snow, but Franz was pleased with the stoic silence of his little band. Not a word, not a movement betrayed their presence to the men they could now hear approaching up the track. Not many of them, Franz thought now, and not coming at all in stealth. But then, who would expect to meet anyone on this seldom used track?

  He cursed the veil of snow as the little group of figures emerged, dimly seen through it, at the turn of the road. Six or seven of them, coming steadily on, not talking much, with the snow blowing in their faces. Talking Liss? He thought so. They were within easy hearing distance now. He whispered a command, stepped out into the path, raised a hand and spoke in Liss: ‘Stop, or we fire. We outnumber you more than two to one.’ His men were forming up silently behind him, visible proof of his point.

  ‘How very warlike!’ The other voice was pitched to carry against the snow. ‘We’ve no intention of fighting you, Franz!’

  ‘Max! How in the world?’ The two parties met, coalesced, and the twins clasped mittened hands, briefly, warmly. ‘You’ve come from Gustavsberg?’

  ‘With grim news, I’m afraid. Our father’s dead.’

  ‘Gustav? Dead?’

  ‘Murdered. When the French withdrew yesterday he summoned his servants, ordered them to march on the opera house. He meant, I think, in the confusion,
to take it over – you and me with it, and Cristabel – hold us to ransom.’

  ‘For Lissenberg?’

  ‘I suppose so. He must have been more than a little mad, to think he had the slightest chance.’

  ‘But what happened?’

  ‘They turned on him, his own servants, in his own hall … A horrible end.’ He was silent for a moment, both of them thinking of the father who had brought this on himself. ‘I got there too late to save him, but in time, thank God, to protect the Countess and her children. Princess, I should say, poor lady.’

  ‘But how come you were there at all?’ Franz shifted cold feet in the snow.

  ‘By good luck. I was in Joseph’s study when the French arrived last night Heard what was happening; knew there was no way I could stop them. I’ve lived in that palace most of my life, got myself out by ways of my own and rounded up a few old friends. I was a little anxious about what our father might do after the French left.’

  ‘As well you might be. But what have you done with the murderers?’

  ‘Left them at Gustavsberg under guard. We hadn’t enough men to make it safe to try and bring them to the castle. Besides, what is going on there? Does Joseph need help?’

  ‘I hope not, but if things are under control at Gustavsberg, we should be getting back. I’ll tell you as we go. I’m glad to see you are just as sure of Joseph as I am.’ He was aware of the men around them, listening.

  ‘Oh yes. I think I always have been, since he found out who he was. There was only one way for him to go then, being Joseph. And then, when word got out about the road, I knew I had been right. Satisfactory, it was.’

  ‘Yes.’ They were trudging side-by-side up hill through the snow. ‘That’s when I was sure, but Martha always was, right from the start’

  ‘Not Cristabel,’ said Max. ‘I’ve sometimes thought she hated him.’

  ‘Have you? I wonder …’ Franz was silent for a moment, then: ‘Her husband is dead. Max.’

  ‘What?’

 

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