A Foreign Affair (8 page)

Now, however, Helena was forced to ask herself if she had been so critical simply because she had not yet encountered someone who was truly skilled at the game. Giving vent to an unladylike snort of disgust, Helena tossed the pamphlet across the room in a fit of frustration. Why was she even wasting a second thought on any of this? It did not matter to her in the least whether or not Major Lord Brett Stanford was genuinely interested in the problems of the German states or even the future of Europe. No, it did not matter to her at all.

But, Helena admitted grimly to herself as she rose and went to sit at her escritoire, what did matter was that she, who had no use for attractive men or flirtation, had on three separate occasions found herself irresistibly drawn to this one particular man. Was she no better than her mother after all? Was she only more intellectually discriminating? No! Helena had spent far too much of her life cultivating her own interests, creating an existence whose meaning and satisfaction came from something other than masculine attention and admiration to fall for a handsome face and charming matter at this stage in her life. Her mother’s example had been too ever present for her daughter not to learn that one could not pin all one’s hopes for happiness on a man.

Angrily she pulled out a sheet of paper, stabbed her pen into the inkwell, and began to write furiously.

Dear Sophie and Gussie, It is some time since I last wrote to you, but Mama and I have been settling in to our apartments here in  Vienna. The city is full of people and very crowded and noisy. Mama is very busy attending balls nearly every evening, but I miss the two of you and the quiet countryside around the schloss. Except for its superior bookstores and theater, Vienna has little to recommend it, though I am able to procure newspapers of all kinds and to talk with many of Papa’s friends who visit the Princess van Furstenberg. While it is all very interesting, I do not enjoy it half so much as being at home. How are your lessons proceeding? I do hope that you are paying attention to all that Abbe Ferrand teaches you and that you do not tease Fraulein Hauptmann too much. Do take care of yourselves and write me.

Helena laid down her pen and gazed out the window across red-tiled rooftops to the spire of St. Michael’s Church. The most difficult thing about her trip to Vienna was missing the girls.

From the moment Helena had arrived at Hohenbachern a lonely lost little girl of eight, Sophie and Gussie had been the brightest spots in her solitary existence. The instant she had entered the cheerful nursery on that cold blustery day nearly thirteen years ago, she had fallen in love with the chubby blond babies. Sophie had been a little over six months old and Gussie only a year older, but even at that young age, their outgoing natures and unconditional love had warmed the heart of a lonely little girl exhausted by weeks of travel and confused by the considerable upheaval in her young life.

After that she was constantly to be found in the nursery playing with the babies, laughing at their antics, and helping Ursula feed and care for them. They in turn would often sit solemnly watching as the governess, Fraulein Hauptmann, instilled her young charge with a zeal and an appreciation for the educational principles of the Fraulein’s idol Rousseau.

Later, when it was time for Sophie and Gussie to begin their own lessons, it was Helena who made them mind the Fraulein and convinced the two lively little girls to sit still long enough to absorb at least some of the knowledge she was trying to instill in them. As time went on, the Fraulein, worn out by years of teaching, abdicated more and more of her responsibility to her former student, and Helena, now studying under the scholarly Abbe Ferrand, took over their education. She truly enjoyed the task and seemed to have an uncanny ability for making lessons, whether they were in history, geography, or even mathematics, come alive for the girls-Soon she was able to command their attention and keep them seated at their desks in a way the Fraulein never had.

This arrangement was not only helpful to the governess, but it was extremely rewarding to a young girl who had never felt anything but superfluous to the existence of the adults around her until she bad arrived at Hohenbachern. At the schloss, life was different from her former life in England. The prince was a devoted father who doted on his girls when he was not off with his regiment, and since all of the social life in the tiny principality revolved around its prince, all the entertaining was confined to the schloss and its environs, which meant that Helena actually saw more of her mother than she had in all the years they had lived in England.

The Prince von Hohenbachern had married Lady Devereux to give his tiny daughters a mother, but it was her daughter who actually took on the responsibility for their upbringing, and she lavished them with all the love and attention she had longed for but never received. In return they adored her. Their protests, when she had left for Vienna, had been loud and long, but she had promised to write them and encouraged them to write her. Still, letters were no substitute for being there.

A lump rose in Helena’s throat as she pictured them, their blond curls flying as they rode alongside their carriage as far as the village and then waved good-bye as it turned on to the main road to Munich.

“There you are. I have been looking for you this age, though I suppose I should have known I would find you here. What do you think of this new bonnet? It is quite in the French style, and I do think the ostrich feathers add a degree of elegance. Do you not agree? The
Countess Edmond de Talleyrand-Perigord was wearing one like it at the
fete
last week, and I vowed I would not rest until I could have one made up for me.” The Princess von Hohenbachern paused in front of a convenient-looking glass to admire the charming picture she made and then sank gracefully into the bergère chair her daughter had just vacated. “I shall be all the rage in the Prater this afternoon, for I do think I appear to more advantage in it than the countess. Her complexion is too dark and her nose too long to do it justice.”

“It is vastly becoming, Mama.” And indeed, the bonnet was a perfect frame for the princess’ blond beauty. “But am a poor judge of such things, you know, for I have not the least notion of what is
a la mode
or what has become hopelessly
passé.”

“It is not so much a question of whether or not something is the latest kick of fashion as it is whether or not it shows one’s particular characteristics to their best advantage. As I say, I saw the bonnet on the countess and admired the design, but I selected it because it is perfect for me, and, I guarantee that when I wear it, it will become the kick of fashion, while on her, it just looked like a bonnet.” The princess rose and walked over to the looking glass again, turning her head from side to side to assure herself that it was equally becoming from all angles. “I daresay that it win turn quite a few heads this afternoon.”

“Are you just going for a drive, or...” Helena hated herself for asking the question. What did it matter to her if a certain English officer was expected to call that afternoon? But she could not stop herself from asking.

“Do you never pay attention to such things?” Helena’s mother shook her head, a look of mingled exasperation and resignation wrinkling her smooth white brow. “Balls and routs may be too frivolous to attach your interest, but the celebration commemorating the battle of Leipzig?”

“Ah, er, yes, I suppose the Princess von Furstenberg did mention it, now that I think of it, but my attention was occupied with other things at the time.” Helena flushed as she admitted to herself that she had been too preoccupied with her conversation with Major Lord Brett Stanford to pay much attention to anything or anyone else at the Princess von Furstenberg’s soiree for the rest of the evening. “With all of Vienna attending the celebration, you will have ample opportunity to show off your bonnet, though surely there is someone special you hope to dazzle with it”

“You can be very clever when you put your mind to it, you know.” The princess smiled conspiratorially at her daughter. “The Esterhazys have very kindly offered me a space in their landau—not that I do not expect that certain other people may join us, of course.”

“Ah.” There was a wealth of meaning in her daughter’s reply.

“Yes, the major has been most attentive in spite of the Bagration’s shameless attempts to capture his interest. She has been casting her eyes at him from the moment he arrived, and at the Trauttmansdorff’s reception I saw her approach him in the most brazen manner.”

“Then, if the celebration is such an important event, perhaps I should attend it as well. That is, of course, if the Esterhazys have room in their carriage.” Knowing her mother, Helena felt reasonably certain that somehow the princess would have arranged it so that there would be an empty seat next to her in the carriage in case they should happen to encounter a certain handsome English major.

The princess could only stare at her daughter.

“Well.” Helena hunched a self-conscious shoulder. “It is to honor the soldiers who fought against Napoleon, after all, and Papa is one of those soldiers. Since Papa cannot be here, then we should do our best to represent Hohenbachern for him.”

“Then we must find something suitable for you to wear.” Recovering from her astonishment, the princess immediately got down to business. “You simply cannot appear in that same old bonnet, and it is far too warm for your pelisse. I have another new straw-colored satin bonnet that I have not yet worn that you could wear. And if you were to drape the Vittoria cloak I just had made over your white muslin walking dress, it should add some distinction to your costume. I shall have Marie bring them to you immediately so you can try them on for effect.” The princess hurried out of the room, leaving her daughter to wonder what on earth had possessed her to commit to attending what was bound to be one of the biggest crushes of the entire Congress.

In fact, Helena had no need to speculate on her reasons for attending the ceremony. Much to her chagrin, she knew perfectly well why she had volunteered to go. It was to see for herself if Major Lord Brett Stanford was just like her mother’s many other gallants, only perhaps more clever. Or if he truly were different, she wanted to assure herself of it. But at the back of her mind, she knew that not even that was the true reason, for what did it matter to her if he was different or not? Why should she care? The answer was that she
wanted
him to be different. But why she wanted him to be different was a question that she refused to entertain.

Chapter Eight

So it was that Brett, scanning the crowd gathered in front of the high altar set up in the Prater, where all Vienna gathered to hear the archbishop give his blessing and lead them in prayers for continued peace, was surprised to see Miss Devereux occupying the very place he had expected to take next to the Princess von Hohenbachern in the Esterhazys’ landau. Granted, when the princess had spoken of attending the celebration, she had only given him the faintest of hints that he might find the place next to her empty, but from what little Brett had seen of the Princess von Hohenbachern, he felt sure that she expected her admirers to treat even her vaguest hints with all the seriousness of a royal command. Surely she had intended for him to sit by her in the carriage in the space now occupied by the omnipresent Miss Devereux? But perhaps the Esterhazys were also acquainted with Miss Devereux and, thinking to please the princess had, unbeknown to her, invited a fellow countrywoman to share in the occasion. Or perhaps they had known that the princess was already on friendly terms with Miss Devereux, who, despite her clearly voiced distaste for all the social gatherings of the Congress, seemed to cross his path with disturbing regularity.

Brett was still puzzled by the unexplained relationship between the two Englishwomen, a relationship that neither one seemed terribly eager to elucidate. In fact, if the truth were told, he had begun to wonder if they were not purposely keeping it from him. Miss Devereux had been singularly unforthcoming about it, and when he had questioned the princess about it several evenings later, she had been just as unhelpful when he had introduced the topic in the middle of a waltz.

“I made an acquaintance of a friend of yours the other evening.”

“Mmmm,” the princess had murmured caressing his shoulder ever so discreetly. “I have a great many friends in Vienna.”

“This is a young woman, someone who must be quite close to you, for I first encountered her in your library.”

The princess’ blue eyes had opened wide.
“My
library? Surely you do not think that
I
have a library, Major. I assure you, I have no interest in such things. It is not
my
library. As you know, our apartments are rented, and since I am not likely ever to use the library in them, I have given leave to all my acquaintances to make free of it; though most of my friends have far more enjoyable things to occupy their time, as do I, than to waste it buried in a library.” She smiled wickedly at him.

“This was a Miss Devereux, a young Englishwoman who looks as though she spends a great deal of her time in libraries.”

“Ah, Helena.” The princess had sighed. “You are in the right of it. She does spend a great deal of her time in libraries—too much time, in fact. She is far too serious for her own good. But in spite of the fact that it would do her more good to be out enjoying herself, I do allow her to use the library.”

“Then you
do
admit to knowing her. She is a friend of the family?”

“Yes, yes, that is it... a family friend. I have known her this age, since she was a child. But let us not talk of a serious young woman when the music is so delightful and I am so fortunate to have such an excellent partner.”

And that had been the extent of it. Since the princess had been dancing with him at the time, the vagueness of her response had not struck Brett so forcefully as it did now when he saw the two of them together in the Esterhazys’ landau. This time he resolved not to come away from the encounter without a clearer explanation.