25
Roger to the Rescue
Several minutes passed before Roger succeeded in quietening Georgina’s wild outburst of distress. Having sought to soothe her, he at length took her by the shoulders and shook her, as he said tersely:
‘Georgina! Cease behaving like an hysterical girl. Whatever trouble you are in, I’ll get you out of it. You must know that. We have been like father, mother, brother and sister to each other, as well as lovers, ever since we were children. I would give my life for you any day. For God’s sake, tell me what causes you such grief, so that I may provide a remedy for it.’
Her sobs lessened, and she moaned, ‘It is Ulrich. His behaviour revolts and horrifies me.’
‘Why? Is he a sadist and brutal to you?’
‘No; he has always treated me with consideration, and is proud to have me for his wife.’
‘What then?’
‘He is heterosexual. He enjoys women, but also boys. He orders the stable lads to his bed. Such practices have always revolted me. It was when I first found that out that I refused ever again to sleep with him, and demanded a room of my own.’
Roger considered for a moment, then he said, ‘It is known that the Greek vice has now become a German one. Your revulsion I understand, but why the terrible distress? Does it stem from the fact that you love him, so are jealous of his complaisant sodomites, and yearn to have him back to make love only to you?’
‘No, no,’ Georgina whimpered.’ ‘ ’Tis not that. Such attraction as he had for me soon faded after he had brought me here. He is handsome, intelligent and bold; but underneath cold and cynical. As I can get no money from England until peace comes, I cannot leave him; but I’ve no wish even to keep a hold on his affections.’
‘Why, then, this extreme perturbation? Many women who no longer love their husbands readily ignore their vices and console themselves by having affaires with other men. You did so yourself when married to Humphrey Etheredge.’
‘I know; I know. But this is different. I am afraid for Charles.’
‘Charles!’ Roger repeated, aghast. ‘You do not mean …?’
‘I do. Did you not see the way in which Ulrich fondled the boy before he retired after our arbeitsessen?’
‘I did,’ Roger agreed, ‘but thought him to be showing only paternal affection.’
‘You were wrong. He has set his evil heart upon seducing my son. Oh, Roger! What can I do? What can I do?’
Again Roger was silent for a minute, then he asked, ‘What of Charles? Do you think him inclined to lend himself to your husband’s designs upon him?’
‘No, I am certain he would not. Ulrich flatters him and loads him with presents; but Charles instinctively shies away from his caresses. My awful fear is that, should he continue to fail to respond to him, Ulrich will lose patience, enter his room one night, and force him.’
‘Then,’ Roger said firmly, ‘our only course is speedily to remove the boy from here.’
‘You are right,’ Georgina murmured. ‘But how can we? How could this possibly be done?’
‘I know not,’ Roger replied. ‘I must have time to think upon it. But take heart, my love. You may be sure that I’ll not leave you in so dire a strait. You know well that I have ever loved your son as though he were my own. And my love for you knoweth no bounds of time, distance or any other loves that may temporarily engage us. Such passions of the body are naught but episodes. Our spiritual link has remained unbroken all these years. We are as one, and nothing in this world is worth an iota compared to our going on together in life and death until eternity.’
‘Oh, Roger, bless you! I never doubted for an instant that I would call upon you in vain. I know that you will think of something. My mind is already at rest, and I am relaxed. Now make love to me as you have so often done. Nibble my ear, then enter me so that my soul can shudder with yours in delirious delight.’
Twenty minutes later, Roger gently persuaded Georgina to return to her room. Their passionate embrace had restored her calm, but her heart-rending outburst earlier had taken a lot out of her and, as he was to stay five more nights at Schloss Langenstein, he felt it best that she should, that night, get an uninterrupted sleep.
Next day, Roger saw Georgina in her old role of a most accomplished hostess, for the Baron had invited a number of his neighbours to dinner. In Germany the old custom of dining early was still maintained, and the ten guests sat down at one o’clock to a gigantic meal, helping one another from a dozen dishes of fish, game, poultry and veal, which were set on the table simultaneously.
It was close on three o’clock when the ladies left the men to indulge in a bout of heavy drinking, and talk of sport or politics. As was to be expected, the conference at Erfurt was uppermost in all their minds. Only the Baron and Roger had been present there, and the former gave his friends an account of it, although it transpired that one of his guests was far better informed about what had actually taken place there.
This was Prince Claus von Metternich, who was paying a brief visit to Johannisberg, his estate a few miles down the river, which was famous for producing the finest white wine in the world.
Roger had never previously met the Prince, but he had heard a lot about him. The son of a distinguished diplomat, he had imbibed a knowledge of international politics from his youth. While a student at the University of Strasbourg during the French Revolution, he had witnessed the murderous ferocity of the mob, and this had led to his becoming a life-long enemy of ‘Government by the People’. After leaving Strasbourg, he had made a long stay in England, then went to Vienna where, in 1795, he had married a grand-daughter of the Austrian Chancellor, von Kaunitz. In his case, nepotism had proved justified, for his appointment as Ambassador to Berlin had proved a great success. So pleasant had he made himself to the French Ambassador there that Napoleon had asked for him to be transferred to Paris. In the French capital he had proved extraordinarily popular, making many close friends, including Napoleon’s sister, Caroline Murat. It was said that she had become his mistress. His handsome presence, charming manners and ready wit made him a great favourite among the ladies. Now, at thirty-eight, he had become one of the most important personalities on the European stage.
Roger realised that, since everyone there believed him to be a Frenchman, the opinions expressed were on the cautious side, for to criticise Napoleon in his presence could have proved dangerous. But Metternich went as far as to say:
‘From Austria’s point of view, the conference ended very satisfactorily. The Emperor endeavoured to persuade the Czar to threaten my country with hostilities unless we ceased rearming; but the Czar refused. That was largely due to the admirable exertions of Baron Vincent, whom I sent as our observer, and perhaps even more to the influence of Talleyrand.’
‘I judge Your Highness right,’ Roger remarked. ‘It is no secret that the Prince de Benevento has always cherished the hope of restoring the old Franco-Austrian alliance which existed for so long under the Kings of France. The Emperor is well aware of that. One day, while at Erfurt, I heard him snap at the Prince, “You are always an Austrian.” Talleyrand replied, “A little, Sire; but I think it would be more exact to say that I am never Russian, and always French”.’
Metternich laughed. ‘How typical of his finesse. While I was Ambassador in Paris, I had numerous conversations with him, and we see eye to eye on many matters. For us, his resignation as Minister of Foreign Affairs was a sad blow; but he was right to follow the dictates of his own conscience.’
‘Despite his resignation, the Emperor cannot bear to be without him on all important occasions. Witness how, at Erfurt, he made him chief negotiator, over the heads of both Caulaincourt and Champagny.’
‘Yes; Baron Vincent realised that, although Talleyrand had no official status; and I have a feeling that he may yet play a decisive part in the affairs of France.’
They talked on until past five o’clock; then several of them, unsteady on their legs after the quantities of r
ich wine they had drunk, collected their ladies and departed in their coaches.
That night, when Georgina came to Roger’s room, he said, ‘I have given much thought, my love, to the matter of dear Charles. For me to make off with him is out of the question. In no time Ulrich would set the forces of law in motion and we would be caught long before we could cross the frontier. In fact, it is essential that there should be no suspicion that I have anything to do with his disappearance. Therefore, he must leave a day, or better still, two days before Lisala and I do.’
‘But a boy of twelve could not possibly cross half a continent on his own, however much money we gave him,’ Georgina protested.
‘My love, I do not suggest it. What I have in mind is that he should appear to have run away, but actually lie hidden somewhere nearby for a couple of days. Then I would pick him up and take him with me to Paris.’
Georgina nodded. ‘That seems a good plan; but after Paris? What then? The Emperor never remains in Paris for long, and you will have to accompany him when he next sets out for Italy, Spain or Berlin. You could not take Charles with you. And I would be loath to have him left in Lisala’s hands.’
‘I agree. And there lies our worst difficulty. Obviously we must endeavour, in some way, to get him back to England, so that Stillwaters again becomes his home. But how? In the old days I had many ties with smugglers and might have got him across. That is not so now. Alone, if hard put to it, I doubt not I could find a way. Accompanied by a lad who might be called on to answer awkward questions, it would be a desperately dangerous undertaking for us both.’
They remained silent, thinking hard, for more than a minute, then Georgina exclaimed, ‘I have it! My Archduke.’
‘I have been meaning to ask you about him; but last night was no time for that.’
‘He is John, the youngest of the Emperor Francis’ brothers. Last August, he was making a tour of the Rhine, incognito. Through some mismanagement by her Captain, the yacht in which he was voyaging struck a rock in the shallows a mile or so away, and so badly damaged her rudder that another had to be sent for from Mayence. To pass the time, he and his gentleman-in-waiting came ashore, trudged up to the Schloss and asked permission to see the view from the tower.
‘Ulrich was then away from home, in Berlin; so it was I who received them. He introduced himself as Count Stulich; only later he told me that he was an Imperial Highness. On learning of their plight, I naturally invited them to remain and dine with me. Within the first half-hour the subtle spark passed between us. He is charming, intelligent and most courteous; everything a true gentleman should be. It seems that he found in me all the qualities to be admired in a woman. No sooner had we finished our meal than he packed his gentleman off down to the yacht to bring up some sketches he had made of castles on the Rhine. Then …’
‘Then he proceeded to make love to you,’ Roger broke in with a laugh.
‘Indeed he did. But, thank God, I kept my head. Otherwise the affair might have ended with a tumble on the sofa. Having repulsed him vigorously, I let things bide a while. Then I said, quite casually, “If you have to wait some days for your new rudder, I feel sure I could find for you and your friend more comfortable quarters here than you have in your yacht”.
‘Oh, Roger, darling! You should have seen his eyes light up. For the next three days and the best part of three nights he never left my side. He parted from me with the greatest reluctance and vowed that, had we both not been married he would have risked his brother’s, the Emperor’s, displeasure, to marry me.’
‘What a delightful romance, and what a clever witch you are’ Turning over in bed, Roger added, ‘Does Ulrich know of this?’
‘I could not conceal the fact that two gentlemen had stayed here in his absence. But I had already found out about his disgusting practices; so, had he asked me, I would have told him the truth. No doubt it was to avoid the possibility of a futile scene that he refrained from doing so.’
‘Tell me, though, how can the Archduke help us in the matter of your Charles?’
Georgina propped herself up on one elbow. ‘Why, do you not see? Austria is not under the yoke of Napoleon. As an independent Power, Napoleon cannot prevent her maintaining diplomatic relations with England. Couriers must come and go between Vienna and London. Can you but get Charles to Vienna, I am confident that John will see to it that he is conveyed safely home.’
Pulling her down again, Roger kissed her. ‘Dear heart, you have solved the worst part of our problem. Now, this is what must be done. Tomorrow you must tell Charles that, greatly as it grieves you, for his sake you are sending him home, and that it must be made to appear that he has run away. He should leave a letter for you, saying that he is homesick and can bear life here no longer; then ask your forgiveness for having taken money and some of your less valuable trinkets to pay for his journey. The latter you will give him; I will provide him with money. The next day, Saturday, he must vanish; but remain concealed somewhere in the neighbourhood where I can pick him up when we leave on Monday morning.’
Georgina pondered for a time, then she said, ‘Your plan is sound, but where to hide him for two days I cannot think. There is a hut some half a mile away, down on the shore, where we keep our fishing tackle. When you leave here, your coach will pass within a hundred yards of it. But, once Charles is missed, and I produce his letter, there will be a most ghastly rumpus. The whole district will be searched for him, and it’s as good as certain that someone will look in the hut.’
‘Let him go there, then; but not until first thing on Monday morning. Meanwhile, surely there is some place in the Castle where you can hide him?’
‘They will search it from cellar to attic, on the off chance that, at the last moment, he lacked the courage to make off, and has hidden from fear of punishment.’
‘I cannot believe that there is no place in this great pile where they would not look.’
‘Wait!’ Georgina sat up again and said excitedly, ‘I have it. The Weinstube at the back of the Castle. The vintage is over; the pressing room will remain closed until next year. Charles could lie concealed inside one of the big presses. Then, even if someone looked into the room, he could not be seen, and on the Saturday and Sunday nights I could take him food.’
‘To remain in such confined quarters for two nights and a day would be a considerable ordeal,’ Roger commented dubiously. ‘Think you the boy could endure it?’
‘For that I’ll vouch,’ Georgina replied with conviction. ‘Young as he is, he prides himself upon being an English nobleman, and a direct descendant of Charles II. He knows backwards the story of the King’s forty-three days and nights escaping from his enemies after Worcester fight. He will think of himself as hiding in Boscobel Oak.’
‘Ah, now you reassure me! That, then, is the plan we will adopt. One thing more. Before Saturday night I want you to get for me something of his. A penknife, or an odd sheet of work that he has done for his tutor, would do. Anything which would enable me to lay a false trail, that will be found after his disappearance.’
On the Friday, the Baron took Roger and a party of other gentlemen to shoot buck in his forests inland, beyond the vineyards. That night, Georgina told Roger that, greatly as Charles was distressed at the thought of leaving her, he had agreed that it was for the best; as he realised what was behind his stepfather’s attentions, and loathed and was frightened by them.
Roger then told her the full truth about Lisala. When he had done, she sighed, ‘How terrible that such evil should lurk in so beautiful a person. And your lot, my love, is worse than mine. Apart from being a pervert, Ulrich is not a bad man. He would never delight in flinging his depravity in my face, much less murder one of his parents.’
Saturday they went to dine at a neighbouring castle, but Roger was careful to drink sparingly of the rich wine, as he had work to do during the coming night. At one o’clock in the morning, he and Georgina took Charles down to the Weinstube. There were three large, circular press
es there, about six feet in height; with, protruding from each, four great capstan bars which, when pushed round by the vintagers, wound a stout lid down an enormous screw, and so crushed the grapes.
When they had lined the bottom of the press with a layer of cushions, and lowered into it a supply of food and drink, the boy took a tearful leave of his mother, shook Roger by the hand, and bravely climbed into the press. Then Roger assisted the weeping Georgina back to her own room, where he spent half an hour doing his best to console her.
Reluctantly leaving her, he again went downstairs, let himself out of a side door, and walked down the steep, curving road to the big boathouse on the shore. To get in, he had to force the lock but that suited his plan. In the long shed there were seven boats of various sizes. Clambering into one of the smaller rowing boats, he tethered the smallest of all to her stern, then unlatched the water gate and rowed out into the river.
To cross it entailed a quarter of an hour of hard pulling and the strong, swift current swept him nearly a mile downstream before he reached the far bank. Having beached the boat he was in, and untied the rope by which he had towed over the smaller one, he drew it right up on to the shore. With him he had brought a small book belonging to Charles, which Georgina had got for him. It was in English, and a history of King Charles’ escape after Worcester, so was a perfect clue to the identity of its owner. He left the book in the prow of the boat, as though it had fallen unnoticed from Charles’ pocket as he jumped ashore.
Although he recrossed the river as directly as the current would permit, and made the greater part of his way back close in to the shore, it took him over an hour of strenuous effort before he reached the boathouse. Tethering the boat where he had found it, he wearily ascended the winding mountain road, eventually to reach his room stumbling with fatigue.
On Sunday mornings, it was customary for everyone at the Schloss to attend chapel. The inmates were about to take their places, when Charles’ tutor arrived hotfoot, to report that the boy had not slept in his bed, and he could not be found. The service was abandoned, everyone exclaiming in dismay; Georgina went to her boudoir, then produced the letter Charles had left, saying that she had just found it lying on her work basket.
Evil in a Mask Page 46