‘So I believe.’
‘It hardly sounds like royal stock.’
‘No.’ Martha smiled. ‘If Mr. Kelly had had the slightest pretension to royal blood, I am sure he would have let one know it. But it could be on the other side, mind you.’
‘Who could I write to?’ Lady Helen frowned. ‘The trouble is, I don’t want to start tongues wagging about Cristabel any more than they do already, and any enquiry about Mr. Fylde would be bound to have that effect.’
‘Yes.’ Martha smiled at her, not without a trace of malice. ‘Dear Lady Helen, shall I ask my good informant, Herr Brodski to put some enquiries in train for us?’
‘Oh, my dear, if you would!’
15
Disconcertingly, Brodski had anticipated Martha’s request for information about Fylde. ‘I thought it was bound to come sooner or later,’ he told her, ‘when I saw the sheep’s eyes he was making at Lady Cristabel. He’s no more royal than you, Miss Peabody, and a good deal less so than I am on my mother’s side. He’s up from the Dublin slums, and not much of a cousin of Mr. Kelly’s either, though I doubt Kelly would disown him. The Irish seem to stick together, especially when they are away from home.’
‘Just an adventurer then?’
‘A man with his way to make. Yes. A brilliant singer, a consummate actor in life as well as on stage. If I were you, Miss Peabody, I would use this information very cautiously. You don’t want to drive the poor deluded girl into his arms.’
‘I know. Best wait until after the performance to do anything, don’t you think?’
‘Absolutely. And after the Prince’s declaration of his heir.’
‘You think it may be Prince Maximilian after all?’
‘For once in my life, I do not know what to think. When did you last see Franz Wengel?’
‘A few days ago. I hear he has gone to Brundt.’
‘Just when rehearsals of his opera are reaching their climax. Odd, isn’t it?’
‘Well, yes.’ Even to this dear friend she must be careful what she said. ‘Perhaps he has gone away to avoid further discussion of the secrecy surrounding the last scene?’
‘Shirking his fences, they’d call it in England. It doesn’t sound like Wengel to me.’
‘But you and I have just agreed not to trouble Lady Cristabel with the truth about Desmond Fylde until the opera is safely over.’
‘True enough. But there is something about Wengel that troubles me, baffles me … Something I can’t put my finger on. It’s not often I feel like this. But you – I think you like the man, Miss Peabody. Trust him?’
‘Yes.’ Here at least she could give unqualified assent.
‘And I respect your judgment as my own.’
‘Thank you.’ Now she felt guilty because of all that she had not told him.
‘Do you know a surprising thing?’ Brodski said now. ‘Those two dubious young men, Lodge and Playfair are back.’
‘Back? But how can they be? After being asked to leave?’
‘They have come as representatives of the Austrian administration in Venice. Not much Prince Gustav can do about that.’
‘What a very odd choice.’
‘Is it not? Hardly surprising Prince Gustav is not in the best of tempers. Which is putting it mildly, I understand. I think you three ladies should congratulate yourselves on the fact that you have not been invited to the celebrations at the Palace. There is a rumour that Countess Bemberg will be presiding, since Princess Amelia is too ill to do so.’
‘Good gracious,’ said Martha. ‘How would Lady Helen take that?’
‘Just as well she’s not going to have to. But I think the Prince may be making a serious mistake. Even the Lissenbergers have their breaking-point, and the Bemberg might just be it. Her reputation was not of the best before the Prince happened on her. To put it mildly. I am treating you as a male associate again.’
‘I like it.’
‘Good. Well, the word in Lissenberg is that they were happy enough to have the Bemberg foist her bastard – forgive me – on the Prince for support – what’s one more, after all? – but any suggestion that the child be legitimised would cause outrage.’
‘You mean it’s not his?’
‘Precisely. He may delude himself, if he wishes to, that he is still capable of fathering a child. His doctors know better. The very fact that the Countess’s brat is said to be healthy is an argument against its being his. Look at the poor little prince.’
‘One doesn’t get much chance to.’
‘Exactly.’
* * *
Martha had just retired to her room that night when Anna came tapping at her door. ‘May I speak to you for a moment?’
‘Of course.’ The girl looked distraught.
‘It’s Prince Maximilian. He came down the tunnel. He’s in the women’s hall. He asks that you come to him. It’s urgent, he says.’
‘Now?’ It was very late.
‘Yes. Tell no one, he says. He’ll explain.’
‘I should hope so.’ But she had picked up a dark shawl and wrapped it round her. ‘You’ll come too, Anna? If we meet someone, it’s a problem about the arrangements for next year’s supplies.’
They met no one. The air of the women’s hall struck chill since no fire had been lit there all summer. It was dark, too. Martha took the lantern from Anna’s hand at the top of the steps down into the hall. ‘Wait here. If someone comes, stop them.’
‘Yes.’ Her cold hand shook as she gave Martha the lantern.
‘Thank you for coming.’ Maximilian spoke softly from the darkness near where the fire should have been. ‘I could think of no one else to turn to.’
‘What is it?’ She pitched her voice low, like his, so that even Anna, keeping watch for them, should not hear.
‘It’s Princess Amelia. I’ve managed to get her away. Hidden her in a disused dungeon I found when I was a boy. But she can’t stay there. It’s cold. And she’s ill. Not as ill as they think, but ill enough.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She was being poisoned. Her maid suspected something and came to me. She has eaten only what I managed to provide for the last few days, is better, but there is no way we can keep it up; the danger to her is too great; he might resort to more drastic measures.’
‘Dear God. You mean, he –’
‘Don’t say it. Not even here. I could think of no one but you, Miss Peabody. Can you help her?’
‘I must,’ said Martha. ‘But how?’ She thought for a moment. Then: ‘I trust Anna absolutely. She and I could get her up to my room, but how to explain her presence after that? Tell me, how close a check is being kept on the visitors who enter Lissenberg for the celebrations?’
‘Not as close as the Prince had intended.’ Maximilian’s voice was dry. ‘There’s disaffection in the Civil Service. Well, their pay is in arrears, what does he expect?’
‘So someone could have slipped through?’
‘Yes. But – a woman on her own?’
‘It doesn’t seem likely, does it? I know! She came in with Lodge and Playfair, a friend of Cristabel’s mother. A servant, perhaps? A messenger? Urging us to get out of Lissenberg before the winter.’
‘You’d be very wise to do so,’ he said soberly, then lowered his voice to a thread of a whisper. ‘He’s losing control, Miss Peabody. This proves it. He’s dangerous. I should have come back sooner. I’m out of touch. I don’t know what to do, whom to trust. I’ve never felt so inadequate in my life. It’s terrible at the Palace. He has these rages. We shuffle our feet, try not to meet each other’s eyes, say nothing. He grows more autocratic every day. Anything could happen up there.’
‘The little prince? What about him?’
‘Ah, poor little boy. He’s dying, I’m afraid. And all his father’s fault.’
‘Not –’
‘No, no, not poison, stupidity. Prince Gustav wanted him to make an impression on his guests. He insisted that he ride over the mountain with
him to welcome the first diplomatic arrivals. It was too much for an ailing child. He lost control of his pony and was thrown. You hadn’t heard?’
‘Only that he was ill.’
‘There you are.’ A kind of savage satisfaction in his tone. ‘That tells you how absolute Prince Gustav is! The whole court saw the child thrown, and no one has dared breathe a word of it. You had better not either. But how will you persuade Lodge and Playfair to back this story of yours?’
‘I shall blackmail them,’ she said.
‘Dear me! I think I won’t ask you with what. You should have been a princess, Miss Peabody. Or, better still, a prince!’
‘I’m very happy as I am, thank you. So long as we all survive the next few weeks. But we had better rescue the Princess from her cold cell. There will be no one about in the hostel now. I think Anna and I can get her safe up to my rooms. She can walk, I hope?’
‘Just. She’s very weak, poor lady.’ He reached down to take the lantern from her. ‘This way. We won’t speak; the guard-room is too close.’
Summer made no difference here. It was ice-cold in the tunnel itself, and when Maximilian turned off down an apparent dead-end they met the damp. The flickering beam of the lantern showed it glistening on walls and ceiling, and Martha restrained an exclamation as a freezing drop fell on her face. In front of her, Maximilian had bent low under an arch. Following him, she saw a tiny cell, what looked like a heap of scrap metal, with a cloaked figure awkwardly perched on it.
‘Highness!’ she whispered, taking an icy hand. ‘I’ve come to help.’
‘Don’t call me that! Call me Mary … One of my names. And, thank you!’ The Princess raised huge hollowed out eyes to Martha’s. Even in this dim light she looked ghastly, her own skeleton.
‘Best be going.’ Maximilian handed Martha the lantern and helped the Princess to her feet. ‘And, not a word. Can you lead the way, Miss Peabody?’
‘I think so.’
It was a slow, difficult business, the tunnel so narrow that it was hard for Maximilian to help the Princess, and, when they reached the vaulted women’s hall at last, he picked her up and carried her over to where Anna was waiting. Putting her down, he asked: ‘Can you manage from here?’
‘I shall!’ The Princess pushed back her concealing shawl, managed a ghost of a smile for him. ‘I do thank you, Max.’
‘Hush!’ Martha put a gentle hand on Anna’s to quench her exclamation as she recognised the Princess. ‘We’d best be going, if you are strong enough, Mary. You’ll call tomorrow, Prince?’
‘Early. I wish you God speed, ladies.’
As they helped the Princess up the stairs to her room, Martha thought of all the things she should have said to Maximilian. Too late now. Settling the exhausted Princess in her own bed, she turned to Anna. ‘Can you find me a pallet, Anna, anything? I’ll sleep on the floor beside her.’
‘I hope you know what you are doing.’ Anna had looked terrified since she recognised the Princess.
‘What else can I do? But I promise I’ll not involve you further, Anna. Except for one thing.’
‘Yes?’
‘Could you get a message to Frau Schmidt for me? Ask her to come and see me as soon as she can.’
‘She’s in Lissenberg for the celebrations,’ said Anna. ‘I’ll send first thing. And, Fräulein Peabody, of course I’ll do anything I can to help. The poor …’
‘My poor friend Mary.’ She looked down at the Princess, who had fallen into the total sleep of exhaustion. ‘Thank you, Anna.’
The thin pallet made it easy to wake early. The Princess was still deeply asleep when Martha left her to go and knock quietly on Lady Helen’s door.
‘Yes, what is it?’ Lady Helen was an early riser, but did not like her privacy invaded until she had her face ready for the world.
‘Trouble.’ Martha plunged into her story, making it as brief as possible. ‘I don’t think we should tell Cristabel,’ she said at last. ‘She needs to concentrate on the opera.’
‘Yes, indeed. But – do you really believe Prince Maximilian? Mad to have let him talk you into this! Are you quite sure? It seems incredible!’
‘It’s true, though. The Princess is asleep in my bed.’
‘What will Prince Gustav do when he finds her missing this morning?’
‘God knows! In the meantime, she is a friend of Cristabel’s mother’s, who accepted the escort of Lodge and Playfair to Lissenberg and got ill on the way. Too ill to see anyone. I shall look after her.’
‘You can’t possibly keep it up for long. If anyone should see her …’
‘I know. We’ve got to get her away. I’m trying to arrange it.’
‘Don’t tell me,’ said Lady Helen. ‘I don’t want to know.’ She gave Martha a long, thoughtful look. ‘You’re absolutely right about Cristabel. She must not hear about it; you know what anxiety of any kind does to her voice. So – I had better not know anything either. I am ashamed not to be able to help you, Martha.’
‘Don’t be.’ How rarely Lady Helen used her first name. ‘All I need is your silence, and I know I can count on that.’ How strange it was that everyone seemed to think her in love with Prince Max. This led her thoughts to Brodski, but he was not the ally she needed now.
When she got back to her room she found the Princess awake and looking just slightly better. ‘I’ll get you something to eat.’ She had given strict orders that her surprise guest was not to be disturbed.
‘How can I thank you?’
‘Too early yet.’ With a smile. ‘I’m afraid I shall have to leave you locked in here while I try to arrange things for you. I hope you won’t mind.’
‘Mind? If you just knew how good it is to be alive, to be hungry. But –’ her face clouded, remembering. ‘My little boy, my poor little boy, do you know how he is? I’ve heard nothing since I’ve been so ill.’
‘I’ll try and find out.’ It was not the time to tell her Max’s story.
It was very early still. She must find out where Lodge and Playfair were staying. She sat down and wrote them a note, thanking them for their kindness to ‘Count Tafur’s friend Mary Schnelling’. She thought for a minute, then added a careful phrase: ‘What a delightful surprise – after our last meeting – to hear that you have been able to return.’ That should be enough to make them anxious about what she might know of the background to that odd business at the masquerade.
Anna appeared. ‘A message from Frau Schmidt, Fräulein. She is below in her carriage; asks that you take a turn with her.’
‘Admirable woman!’ Frau Schmidt must have recognised the urgency of the message. ‘My bedroom door is locked, Anna. My guest is ill; no one is to go in.’ She was in the hall now, shrugging into her pelisse, intending to be overheard by a loitering servant.
The closed carriage had drawn up a little way beyond the hostel entrance, clear of the bustle surrounding it. As Martha approached, the door swung open and a strong hand reached down to pull her inside. For an instant, she froze with terror. But she knew that hand. ‘How very melodramatic,’ she looked squarely at Franz Wengel.
‘My abject apologies.’ The carriage was moving forward already. ‘But my grandmother is ill, too ill to come. She had the good sense to pass your message to me. I am here at your service, but I cannot afford to be seen so near the theatre –’
‘That you are neglecting so strangely. I can quite see that. And I am grateful to you for coming so quick. But, Frau Schmidt, is she really ill?’
‘I am afraid so. And since she has her heart entirely set on seeing my opera she has agreed to be very sensible in the meantime. Luckily I was in Lissenberg, visiting her, when your message came. You said it was urgent, so I’m here.’
‘Thank you. I think you will agree that it is.’ Once again she told her story as swiftly as possible, aware as she did so of a tide rising in the man who sat facing her. Of excitement? Of exultation?
‘Poisoning his own wife,’ he said at last. ‘But no way to p
rove it, I imagine.’
‘I don’t know whether Prince Max thought about that. His only thought was to get his stepmother to safety.’
‘And very sensibly he did so. He trusts no one at the Palace?’
‘So he told me. He says he’s been away too long, is out of touch.’
‘Fatal. Poor lad, I don’t think he had any idea what harm he did himself in the public eye when he agreed to that match with the Beauharnais girl.’
‘But he did it for Lissenberg!’
‘Lissenberg did not think so.’
‘And he’s not a lad.’ She found herself defending Max. ‘He’s grown up a great deal this last year in Vienna. He risked his life last night.’
‘And yours. So, what are we going to do for the Princess? I’ll deliver your note to Lodge and Playfair. Wise of you to bring it. And see that they support your story.’ He laughed and she thought what a pleasant sound it was. ‘It was a good day for me when we all met at that masquerade. I’ve never thanked you. I think, but for you, I would be languishing in one of those dungeons to this day.’
‘I think so too.’ Smiling at him, ‘I hope your arrangements are going to be more successful this time.’
‘This?’
‘Time. I’m not entirely a fool, Herr Wengel. I do not in the least want to know what you are planning, but in exchange for my continued silence I want two undertakings from you.’
‘Yes?’ She had taken the wind quite out of his sails. A nervous hand went up to stroke the luxuriant beard that made it hard to read his expression.
‘That you will look after the Princess and that you will see to it that no harm comes to Prince Max. And, by the way, I would not write him off too lightly, either, if I were you. But I have your word?’
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