The Accidental Empress (32 page)

“Elisabeth, I came as soon as I saw your note! Is it true?” Franz was panting as he ran toward her, and she rose to meet him.

“Your Majesty.” Sisi bowed before him, as she had been taught to do when greeting her husband in public.

“Oh, you are not alone.” Franz paused, spotting the four attendants in the pews behind Sisi. “Countesses.” Franz greeted them each with a polite smile. Karoline and Paula tittered behind Sisi’s shoulder.

“Your Majesty.” The four ladies bowed in unison behind their queen. Sisi turned just in time to note the meaningful look that passed from Karoline to Paula. Their familiarity struck Sisi once more as entirely inappropriate: the way they stared directly into her husband’s eyes, flashed furtive grins back and forth between one another, looks they assumed Sisi didn’t notice.

Franz turned to his wife, pulling her attention back to himself. “Oh, Elisabeth, I don’t care who hears. Is it true?” He placed the palm of his hand on his wife’s stomach, his eyes holding Sisi’s with unchecked hope.

“It’s true.” Sisi rested her hand atop his. All she could feel at this point was the boning of the corset beneath layers of fabric. But she leaned forward to whisper: “We will have a baby.”

Franz let loose a whoop that seemed more fitting for a battlefield than a quiet chapel. Sisi could not help but laugh at his delight. Without warning, he leaned forward and scooped up his wife, spinning her in a circle through the chapel. “A baby! An heir!”

Now Sisi feared that not only did her ladies hear this news, but that anyone gathered in the main nave of the church would hear, too. “Franz,” she chided him, but her tone was indulgent, even tender. “Franz, put me down.”

“That didn’t take us long, did it? Good God! I sure picked the right wife, didn’t I?” Franz turned to the threshold of the chapel, and Sisi immediately turned several shades of crimson when she noticed for the first time that Count Grünne and her husband’s guards stood by, witnesses to the entire scene.

“Franz, please.” Sisi lowered her gaze.

“I will not be shy about this!” Franz crowed, placing a long, unabashed kiss on Sisi’s lips. Though the display was immodest, even more so considering they were in a church, Sisi did not entirely mind her husband’s very public affection. Good, she thought. Let those gossips see how enamored my husband is. Maybe they will show me a bit more respect when they see how the emperor dotes upon their empress. Perhaps Countess Esterházy can tattle to the archduchess about this.

But now it was Franz who pulled away suddenly, as another crowd swept into the small space.

“I came as soon as I could!” Sophie swished into the chapel, accompanied by the Russian ambassador, Pyotr Meyendorff, as well as the minister Baron von Bach, and several liveried footmen. “I would have come sooner, as soon as I heard.” Sophie panted. “But Meyendorff was giving me and Bach the latest report from Petersburg. And then I wasn’t sure where to find you. Never mind, I’m here now. I heard the news!”

“You’ve heard about Elisabeth, Mother?” Franz asked, a smile spreading across his face. “Isn’t it wonderful news?”

“Wonderful indeed!” Sophie clasped ringed fingers together, smiling at her son. “Well done, Franzi. You’ve done your duty. And you, too.” Sophie looked at her niece. “You played a role in this as well, of course.”

“How kind of you, Aunt,” Sisi answered with a tight smile, repressing the desire to scowl.

“How long have you been . . . well, when do you think it happened?” Sophie asked, feigning ignorance, though Sisi knew very well that her aunt had been examining her bedsheets and no doubt already knew the answer.

“It has been only a month at most,” Sisi answered, playing along as much for Franz’s sake as her own; Sisi would not reveal to Sophie just how much she knew of her schemes.

“Then you are still very early on. And at very high risk. You cannot be too careful. Franz, we must take very good care of your empress.”

“Indeed.” Franz wrapped his arms around Sisi’s waist and kissed her neck.

“Franz Joseph!” Sophie gasped. “Need I remind you that we are in public, and in a house of God? And that such behavior is entirely inappropriate?”

“Sorry.” Franz dropped his arms, allowing them to fall limp as he backed away from his wife.

Sophie pursed her lips together, eyeing her son and his wife. “Anyhow, Franzi, I hate to divert your attention from such a joyous moment, but we’ve received a response from the tsar, as well as the reply we were awaiting from Hungary.”

“And?” Franz asked, his interest suddenly pulled from his wife. “Who sent the reply from Hungary?”

“Count Andrássy.” The way Sophie said the name made it plain to Sisi that this Count Andrássy, whoever he was, was not a popular figure in Vienna’s imperial court.

“And what did our dear
friend
Julius Andrássy have to say? Was he reasonable?” Franz asked.

“Julius Andrássy’s reply was as unreasonable as Julius Andrássy is himself,” Sophie answered, shaking her head.

“In other words, no,” Franz said.

Sophie nodded. “I’ve had a chance to discuss these recent developments with Meyendorff and Bach this morning.”

“Who is Julius Andrássy?” Sisi asked.

Both Sophie and Franz turned their gazes on her, as if, for a moment, they had forgotten her presence.

“He’s, uh”—Franz looked from his mother to his wife, as if distracted by her question—“Andrássy is a Hungarian.”

“Never mind, Elisabeth.” Sophie stepped between them. “But Franz, you should come back to the council with us now and we’ll discuss next steps. That is”—and now Sophie turned her eyes on Sisi—“that is, of course, unless you are not yet finished here?”

“Yes, we are quite finished. Of course, let’s convene the ministers and discuss the Hungarian question immediately.” Franz took Sisi’s hand in his, kissing it quickly. “I shall see you later, my love?” And with that, he left her side.

“I don’t know, shall you?” Sisi watched him go, her heart dropping as her husband cocked his head to listen to the hurried whispers of his mother, his face attentive to the report she gave. While she, Sisi, stood still in the chapel, silent once more, with her ladies looking on.

Sisi turned toward them, clearing her throat as she assumed an authoritative tone: “We shall continue with our prayers.”

Sisi knelt down once more before the altar and closed her eyes, but her mind was no longer focused on the divine. What was the feeling she had been left with, as she’d watched Franz and Sophie speed away, their heads bowed toward one another?

Perhaps it was jealousy; how could she not wrestle with jealousy, when there were so many sides of Franz that he did not allow her to know, but seemed willing to share with his mother and ministers?

But no, in that moment, Sisi felt something gnawing at her that was more potent than jealousy. What she felt was loneliness: the cold, hard realization that, even when she was surrounded by people, she was entirely alone.

Whatever disappointment Sisi had felt after the day’s earlier meeting in the chapel, Franz more than made up for it that night when he joined Sisi in their bedroom.

They had made love, tenderly and slowly, with Franz reminding Sisi of his attachment to her with each gentle kiss. The others might be privy to his political affairs and military concerns, but only she joined him in this most intimate of moments. Only she inspired the rapturous joy that he experienced with her each night; he was here with her now, his heartbeat and his body testifying to the fact that he was hers, and she clung to him jealously.

“I love you, Elisa,” he whispered into her ear, sounding as if he might cry.

“And I love you, Franz.” She ran her fingertips along the soft skin of his neck, lingering on the scar left by the would-be assassin’s blade.

“Do you think there is another emperor in all of Europe who loves his queen as I love you?” Franz looked at her now, his eyes at ease.

“Surely it’s not possible.” She smiled at him, her hair falling in her face as he swept it gently aside.

“Do you know how I adore you, Elisa?”

She closed her eyes, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “Perhaps not as much as I love you.” Even as she said them, the words hurt, because she was paralyzed by the fear that they might be true. But Franz laughed them off.

“That is something you never need worry about, my darling.”

“Really?” She heard the desperation in her own voice as she asked it. She wanted to ask more:
Then why do I feel like you are so far away? Why will you speak to me about nothing you do? Why do you allow others between us? Why must I wait all day to see you?

Before she could say these questions out loud, these worries so close to her heart that they threatened to strangle her, he spoke. His voice had a sound of finality to it. “Let’s have champagne. I think we must celebrate.” He rang the bell on the bedside table. The footman, dressed in the thick woolen livery even in the heat of summer, appeared, taking the order. Several minutes later he was back, delivering a chilled bottle and two flutes.

Franz filled the glasses. “To our baby,” he proposed.

“Indeed,” Sisi agreed.

“This one, and many more.”

“Let’s just get through this first confinement and labor,” Sisi replied, chuckling at her husband’s enthusiasm. “Are you excited to be a papa, Franz, my darling?”

He sipped from his glass, a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Of course. Every emperor needs an heir.”

“Yes.” Sisi propped herself up on her elbow, leaning toward him. “But to be a
papa
? To have a baby sit on your knee? To watch our little darling grow?”

Franz lowered his head to the side, quiet a moment. He puffed out his cheeks, exhaling slowly before he spoke: “I suppose I never really thought much about those aspects of the job.”

Sisi couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, perhaps now is the time to begin thinking about them.”

“Don’t worry about that, my love,” Franz said, tipping his glass upward to take a long sip. “You shall have all the help you need. Our little prince shall want for nothing.”

“I’m not worried, Franz.” Sisi put a hand on her belly, the flesh more readily available beneath a thin bedsheet than it had been earlier, beneath her gown’s stomacher. “I’m rather looking forward to it.”

“What shall we name it—the baby?” Franz asked, winding a finger along the ridge of her collarbone. Sisi savored the feel—his skin on her skin—as she considered the question.

“If it’s a boy? Franz, of course,” Sisi answered.

Franz smiled, taking another sip of champagne. “And if it’s a girl?”

“If it’s a girl, shall you be very cross with me?” Sisi looked up at her husband.

“Of course not, Elisa.” Franz kissed the tip of her nose, laughing at her. “If it’s a girl, I shall relish the opportunity of trying again for a boy. And many more after that.”

Sisi liked that answer. It was a relief to know that at least
he
would not hold it against her, though she was certain her mother-in-law would find a way to do so. “If it’s a girl, I had an idea,” she said.

“What’s that?”

Sisi sat up, feeling a moment’s worth of shyness as the bedsheets fell away, revealing her nude body. But when she saw how completely she held her husband’s attention, she resisted the urge to cover herself. “Well, why is it that we are together? What brought us together?”

“Your beauty,” Franz answered. “The fact that I wanted to marry you the instant I beheld you.”

“No.” Sisi giggled, swatting away his roving hand. “How did we meet?”

“Mother. Mother told me to invite you and Helene. So you propose the name Sophie?”

“Not quite,” Sisi said, failing to suppress the scowl. After a pause, she added: “My
sister.
Helene is the reason we met.”

“Helene?” Franz followed her thought process. “You’d like to name our baby Helene?”

Sisi nodded.

“Helene.” Franz repeated the name. “Helene Habsburg-Lorraine, Princess of Austria.” He considered it a moment more. “I like it.”

“Do you?”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea.” He kissed the tip of her nose once more, pulling her toward him. She repeated the name, aloud, and then surrendered to his all-consuming kisses.