A Scandalous Adventure (14 page)

The white-faced boys—for they were little more than boys—saluted and stepped back.

Then the prince turned to Gruber, who looked far more angry than penitent. “As for you, Lieutenant, I can conceive of no excuse for your behavior. As of this moment, you are cashiered from the army. Before you are taken to prison to await trial, Captain Staufer will strip you of the insignia of your rank.”

“No,” roared Gruber, stepping toward the dais in a rage. “No, you cannot…” He halted as the constables who had originally guarded the young peasant seized his arms. A wild look around showed no sympathy anywhere.

“Do not make things any worse for yourself,” the prince said softly.

Gruber stood, stiff and furious, as his epaulets were ripped off and his sword was broken over Max's knee. He muttered, so that only Max could hear, “You will pay for this. You will all pay.”

Max grinned.

The crowd watched in awed silence until the constables led Gruber out of sight.

“My people,” said the prince, standing on the dais, “justice is what you all deserve, and justice you will have. I will not tolerate officers or officials who abuse the people they should serve. I vow to stamp out such violations of trust wherever I find them. This I promise you.”

This time, the cheers were heartfelt and lasted for many long minutes. Max caught Susannah's eye, and they smiled in shared delight. The prince had come into his own.

News of what had transpired in the city reached the castle more quickly than the prince did. His progress was impeded by cheering crowds all along the way, and the presence of Princess Mila beside him was cause for even more cheering. The horses had been unhitched and replaced by half a dozen young men who insisted on being given the honor of pulling the prince's carriage.

It would be difficult to say which delighted the prince more, the admiration of his people or the admiration of the lady seated beside him, for Olivia was indeed looking at him with something verging on adoration.

Sharing the carriage with them, Max and Susannah smiled too. She suspected her own smile was as tinged with worry as his was. He kept watching the people surrounding them, craning his neck to check for danger points ahead. An ambush could not have been planned, he whispered to her under the cheers of the crowd, since no one knew ahead of time that the prince intended this escapade. Still, an opportunist might take advantage of the absence of guards.

The prince's safety might have been Max's main concern, but it was not Susannah's. Her worries were focused on Lady Olivia, who showed all the signs of having fallen in love with the prince. Susannah's earlier fears had been confirmed. This was a disaster. Nothing good could come of it. At the very least, Olivia would come out of this with a broken heart.

That the prince looked equally besotted might also be a problem. He was not precisely a confident man—at least he had never seemed confident before. Would he feel humiliated when he found out that he had fallen in love with the wrong woman? Would he strike out at Olivia?

This was a horrendous mess!

Max took her hand in his just then and held it tightly while he smiled down at her. “Ach, Suse, there are complications we never considered, aren't there?”

She could only smile in acknowledgment.

“I know I should never have involved you in this, but…” He shook his head.

“No. It was not your decision. It was mine. I will not let you blame yourself.”

He lifted her hand and held it to his cheek. “I should regret it, but I cannot. That is nothing to be proud of, I know, but it makes me so happy to have you by my side.”

They might be facing disaster. They
were
facing disaster. It did not matter to her any longer. What was important was that they were facing it together. She knew that whatever happened, she would always cherish this adventure.

* * *

They rolled through the gates into the courtyard, still pulled by half a dozen young men, still accompanied by what looked to be half the population of Nymburg. Leading Olivia by the hand, the prince stopped at the top of the steps to turn and wave once more to the crowd. The resulting cheers followed him into the castle.

Staufer looked quickly around. A detachment of his own men, members of the Royal Guard, stood at attention around the courtyard. He would be willing to swear that they stood more proudly than usual, just a hair away from bursting into cheers themselves. The master sergeant standing close to the castle door could not quite keep the smile from twitching at his lips.

Staufer wanted to smile himself. It struck him that whatever else this escapade had accomplished, it had made Hugo's task that much more difficult. It was one thing to usurp the throne of a prince whose rule was oppressive and who was himself disliked. It was something else entirely to overthrow a popular prince, and Conrad had just made himself very popular indeed.

Angriffer apparently shared that thought. He was standing just inside the door, watching the prince lead his princess down the hall, and turned to Staufer. “A very clever move, Max. Your idea?”

Staufer raised his brows. “You are surprised? How foolish of you, Dieter. You, and perhaps your friends, may have seriously underestimated the prince. He has no difficulty recognizing injustice when he sees it, nor in taking steps to combat it.”

“Injustice?” Angriffer laughed. “A prince worried about injustice? What an outré thought. No, I suspect it was all done to impress his pretty little pseudo-princess. Nonetheless, you have posed an interesting problem for Hugo. Or more likely for Helga. I wonder how long it will take her to determine a countermove. Amusing, is it not?”

* * *

Floating along on the cloud of euphoria created by the cheering crowds, Conrad started to lead Olivia toward the private wing, but he was interrupted by a cough from one of his secretaries. He paused. “Yes?”

“Excuse me, Sire, but Count Herzlos begs for a word with you. He is waiting in his office.”

Conrad automatically began to drop Olivia's hand and turn toward the prime minister's office, but he felt her hand tighten and stopped. Slowly he smiled and said to the secretary. “Tell the count he may come see me in my study in half an hour's time.” Turning to Olivia, he said, “Will you accompany me, my princess?”

“I would be honored, Sire.”

The secretary stood immobile, feeling rather as if the earth had shifted on its axis. Then he too smiled and started off to the office where Count Herzlos and his son and daughter were waiting. There was a spring in his step. He looked forward to delivering this message.

* * *

The trek from the castle entrance to the prince's private wing was every bit as long as the trek to the princess's apartments, though today they turned right instead of left. Still, it wasn't the distance that bothered Susannah. It was almost as if, when those massive doors at the entrance thudded to a close, the real world had been shut out.

She was probably being ridiculously fanciful, but Susannah could not help feeling that something was inherently unreal about the castle, or at least about its inhabitants. They were all pretending, all of them. It was one enormous masquerade. The only one who did not seem bothered by this was the prince. He had not looked in the least bit worried when he reached the castle. In fact, he had been looking rather smug.

Max, on the other hand, was looking very worried indeed. As she walked beside him with her hand on his arm, she could almost feel the waves of distress coming from him.

“Are you not pleased to see the prince taking charge?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

One side of Staufer's mouth lifted in a half-smile, half-grimace. “A few weeks ago, I would have been delighted. Once this…this…
confusion
is over, and he is safe on his throne, I will be delighted. But at the moment, no. It is hard enough to predict what Hugo will do, and now Conrad has added to the uncertainty.”

“But it must be good that he has made himself popular.”

“For the moment, yes, but how long will this last? If we do not find the princess quickly, if the country is plunged into war, how popular do you think Conrad will be then? For that matter, what if there is another incident like this in Nymburg or elsewhere in the country, and the prince does nothing about it? Because there will be other incidents, and the prince will not even know about them.”

“You are being exceedingly gloomy.”

“Am I? Yes, I suppose I am.” Max huffed a small laugh. “It is this waiting. I fear I am not a patient man.”

“Has the intruder told your men nothing?”

He shook his head. “I have the impression that he fears Hugo more than he fears me and my men. But the general has sent one of his intelligence officers. Perhaps he will be more successful.” He sighed. “Or perhaps our prisoner really has no idea where the princess is being held.”

Susannah would have liked to say something encouraging, but she couldn't think of anything. The waiting was undeniably frustrating, but Max's mood was no more depressing than the castle itself.

They trudged down long marble corridors lined with marble statues of statesmen in classical poses standing between gloomy portraits of dead princes. It was a heavy weight, this constant reminder of the past. Susannah could not help feeling that it was not really necessary. Surely a prince had the authority to do something to lighten the atmosphere in his castle. But she supposed that he had to really be the one in charge, and Conrad wasn't. Not yet.

The prince's mood was still euphoric when they reached his private study, a room mercifully free of gilding. Three tall windows set in arched bays looked out on a garden where a venerable beech tree was displaying its bronze autumn foliage. The walls were painted a soft green, and deeply cushioned chairs covered in darker green were set in groupings around the room where tables held oil lamps, books, and periodicals. In the corner, a tall stove covered with painted tiles in cream and yellow kept the room pleasantly warm.

The far end of the room was dominated by a large desk with inlaid panels of walnut burl. The only thing that broke the broad expanse of the leather surface was an elaborate inkstand of brass and crystal.

Conrad had seated himself behind the desk. Leaning back in the high, leather-covered chair, he said. “Do you remember my father sitting at this desk, Max?”

“Indeed I do.” A slow smile appeared on Max's face. “I remember being called in with you when we had been caught out in some fault. It seemed a very long walk from the door to the front of the desk. My knees would be trembling by the time I arrived before him.”

“Mine too. I swear I always found him more intimidating here than in the throne room. But I think he would have approved of our prank today, no?”

“Indeed.” Max's smile faded to seriousness. “I believe he would have been very proud of you today.”

Olivia and Susannah must have looked confused, because Conrad turned to them. “Did you not know? Staufer and I were playmates when we were children. We were close enough in age, and he was of high enough birth for my father to allow it.”

The prince turned his eyes to Max, suddenly serious. “Perhaps that is why he is the one man I trust.”

As Max stood motionless, a dozen emotions could be seen flashing across his countenance. Guilt, concern, loyalty, determination, even love—all were there. He bowed to the prince, his hand on his heart. “I will never betray you. I swear it. What I have done, anything I have done, has been to protect you and your throne.” Then he turned to the two women. “I must tell him everything. Do you see that?”

“Yes, of course,” said Susannah. She now understood more of the conflict that had been raging in him. Loyalty to a prince is one thing, but when loyalty to a friend is added to the mix… No wonder he had been so torn.

Olivia had eyes only for the prince, eyes in which tears were welling up. “Yes, I know. I have known for an age that he must be told. Your Highness, I have felt so guilty…”

The sound of approaching confusion interrupted before any explanations could begin. The prince frowned and held up his hand for silence. “Whatever it is, there is no time for it at the moment. I must first deal with the Herzlos clan. You will wait.”

With a wave of his hand, he directed them to seats in front of the windows, where they sat in shadow.

The approaching clamor softened into a mutter of voices—angry voices—and the door opened to give entrance to a footman. “Count Herzlos, Baron Herzlos, Baroness Herzlos, and Lieutenant Angriffer beg an audience with you, Your Highness.”

“Ah yes,” said the prince, as if he had just remembered the appointment. “Send them in.”

They did not precisely march in. Count Herzlos, at the head of the party, moved at a stately pace that accentuated the distance from the door to the prince. Hugo, fuming, stumbled over his feet every few steps in an effort to keep himself behind his father. Helga, on the arm of Angriffer, floated behind them. The determined smile on her mouth was not quite good enough to counteract the effect of the angry color on her cheekbones.

In contrast, Angriffer looked not only calm but faintly amused. He caught Susannah's eye and winked at her, prompting a low growl from Staufer. Helga also noticed and tightened her grip on Angriffer's arm while darting a glare at Susannah.

Count Herzlos paid no attention to this byplay. He was stiffly proper as he came to a halt before the prince, clicked his heels, and bowed. Hugo managed to do the same, but with far less grace. While his father looked icy, he was seething with ill-concealed rage.

“How could you—” burst out of Hugo's mouth before his father held up a hand to silence him.

Conrad looked coldly at the son for a moment before granting the father a courteous smile. “Good afternoon, Count. You wished to see me. It was something urgent?”

“My apologies, Sire,” said the count, his face impassive, “but my son shares my distress at your recent actions.”

“Distress? At my actions? Dear me, have I failed to recognize someone whom I passed in the hall? Greeted someone I should have ignored?” The prince's voice was pleasant, though there was an edge to it.

Susannah, sitting between Max and Olivia, watched with nervous interest as Count Herzlos stiffened even more. She would not have thought such a feat possible, but he managed it.

“You must know, Sire, that your safety, the safety of your realm, rests upon the loyalty of the army. To undermine the authority of your officers is an act of folly, dangerous folly.”

“Really, Uncle, I assure you that I have done nothing that would undermine the lawful authority of my officers.”

None of the three observers made a sound, but their eyes brightened at the emphasis on the word “lawful.”

Hugo could no longer be restrained. Stepping forward, he slammed a fist down on the desk. “You humiliated one of my officers in front of the entire town. You disgraced him, and I will not stand for it.”

The prince did not move for a long moment, then looked down at Hugo's fist resting on the desk before raising his eyes to look directly at Hugo. “You forget yourself, Baron.” His voice was soft, but cold enough to drop the temperature in the room by several degrees.

There was a hissed intake of breath—Susannah thought it came from Helga, but she could not be sure. In the silence that followed, she held herself very still, as did Olivia and Max. This was the prince's scene, and they had no desire to draw the attention from him. From the corner of her eye, Susannah could see Angriffer. He had detached himself from Helga and was standing in a relaxed pose with a glint of wicked amusement in his eyes.

The count pulled Hugo back. “I beg you to excuse my son, Sire. He is naturally distressed, since it was an officer of his regiment who was humiliated. News of this has already spread throughout the town and throughout his regiment. Through all the regiments. This will have a serious effect upon discipline, upon morale.”

“And you think I caused this disruption?” The prince responded so calmly that Count Herzlos hesitated, momentarily uncertain.

Hugo, however, showed no hesitation at all, and jerked his arm free of his father's grasp. “Who else?” he demanded. “You took the word of a peasant over the word of an officer. You must have been mad to do such a thing.”

“It was not a single peasant, you know.” Conrad smiled pleasantly. “There were a dozen witnesses to say that Lieutenant Gruber was lying. To say nothing of the two cornets.”

Hugo slashed a hand through the air in dismissal. “The cornets are young. They were probably frightened. And everyone knows that peasants, townspeople will tell any lies they think they can get away with.”

Helga put a hand on her brother's shoulder as if to calm him, but Susannah could see that she squeezed tightly enough for her knuckles to turn white. It served to silence him. “Really,” she drawled, “you must look at this sensibly, Your Highness. One can hardly take the word of peasants over the word of an officer.”

Conrad tilted his head consideringly. “So you think everyone was lying. Only the lieutenant was telling the truth. Is that it?”

“Precisely.” Helga smiled condescendingly, as if at a child who has recited his lesson correctly.

“Of course,” snapped Hugo. “Anything else is impossible. These people all hate the army. Everyone knows that.”

Helga shut her eyes briefly and gave a gasp of annoyance as she tightened her grip on her brother again.

“Hate the army? Now why would they hate the army, which exists for their protection?” The prince turned to Staufer. “Captain, do your men complain that people hate them?”

Staufer spoke from the shadows. “No, Sire, I have never heard such complaints from my men. Perhaps it is only the baron's Black Star Regiment that has such problems. Perhaps it is the way they behave that causes the problems.”

“What you suggest is impossible,” Hugo said, dismissing the suggestion with a sneer. “My officers are gentlemen.”

“No, not impossible.” Conrad leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Tell him, Captain Staufer.”

Staufer slowly unfolded himself from the chair where he had been sitting quietly. He stepped over to stand beside the prince's desk and faced the Herzlos clan. “I was in the marketplace myself today when this incident occurred and saw the whole thing. Lieutenant Gruber attempted to assault a young woman, and when her husband came to her defense, he threatened to have the husband hanged for his impertinence.”

With a look of disgust, he turned to Hugo. “Your drunken lieutenant lied through his teeth.”

Hugo's anger abated not at all. “I don't believe it!”

Staufer smiled then. “Are you calling me a liar?” he asked softly, pulling off a glove and fingering it gently.

Susannah stood up before things could get further out of hand. Standing tall, with her head high, she faced the Herzlos family. “I too was in the marketplace and saw it all. It happened as Captain Staufer said.”

“I saw it all as well, and I say the same.” Olivia rose and put her arm through Susannah's.

Helga hissed in an angry breath, and her lips could be seen to form the silent word “imposters.” A dozen angry impulses flashed across Hugo's face, each one uglier than the last.

Conrad stood as well. “And I was also in the marketplace and saw it all. I think, Cousin, that you need to point out to your regiment that their duty is to Sigmaringen, not to themselves. And perhaps you might remind them that an officer is expected to be a gentleman, and a gentleman does not tell lies to escape the consequences of his own misdeeds.”

Prince and cousin stared at each other in silence. It was as if the prince's steady but unsmiling look slowly drained away Hugo's bravado, and the count seemed to deflate in concert with his son. Helga simmered impotently, but for some reason she seemed to be directing her fury at Susannah, who could not understand why. It was uncomfortable.

Finally the prince said, “You may leave us.”