A Scandalous Adventure (4 page)

The general was still pleading and the captain was still smiling as she pushed them out and slammed the door on them.

“Really, Susannah, don't you think you were being rather rude?” Aunt Augusta pursed her lips and frowned.

“Rude? When they are proposing to involve you and Olivia in some harebrained scheme? Words fail me!”

They did not fail her, of course. She spent the next several hours explaining to Lady Olivia and Lady Augusta why they could not possibly allow themselves to be dragged into General Bergen's lunatic scheme.

“But they need help,” Olivia pleaded.

“The fact that they need help does not mean that we have to give it to them. Nor does it mean that this plan of the general's has any chance of success.”

“Honestly, Susannah, I don't understand how your parents ever produced such a cowardly little mouse.” Lady Augusta sniffed.

“Cowardly? A mouse?” Susannah was outraged. “Just because I am the only one with at least a smidgen of common sense?”

“Yes, cowardly. If you aren't careful, you will turn into a shriveled old maid who's afraid of life, never daring to step outside her own front door.” Aunt Augusta glared at her. “Where's your sense of adventure?”

Susannah was so furious she could not speak, but just stood there with her mouth opening and closing.

“And besides,” said Olivia, totally ignoring all of Susannah's objections, “I would have a chance to be a princess for a few days. You know how everyone always looks down on me because of my mother, and because no one believes that my father really was my father.”

“That's not true,” Susannah protested, but she knew that it was. She just hadn't realized that Olivia was so aware of it.

“Just for a few days, everyone would be looking up to me instead.” Olivia's eyes were shining at the very thought of it all.

The next day they were en route to Sigmaringen.

London

Anne, Lady Penworth, walked into her husband's office waving a piece of paper. “Phillip, I have just received the oddest letter from Susannah.”

The Marquess of Penworth looked up from the pile of papers on his desk and smiled at his wife. “An odd letter from Susannah? I didn't know our daughter knew how to write odd letters.”

“That's what makes it so odd.” Lady Penworth settled herself in the comfortable chair by the fireside that her husband kept for her in his office. “She says that they are going to Nymburg. I've never even heard of Nymburg. Where on earth is it?”

Penworth called his attention back from admiring the picture his wife made in her green dress with that lacy confection on her head. “Hmm? Nymburg?” He frowned for a moment. “Ah, yes. It's the capital of one of those little German states in the south, near Switzerland. But I thought they were settled in Baden for the time being. What do they want to go to Nymburg for?”

“I'm not sure. She doesn't say. Is it far from Baden?” Lady Penworth was staring at the letter.

“No, I don't think so.” Lord Penworth got up and went over the enormous globe in the corner of the room and turned it slowly until he found what he was looking for. “Ah, there it is, in Sigmaringen, which is just south of Hechingen, and the two of them are tucked in between Baden and Württemberg. A pair of those tiny little states that are likely to be gobbled up soon by either Prussia or Austria.” He shrugged. “I don't know of anything interesting about either one of them. I should have thought Baden would be more pleasant for them.”

“I would have thought so too, but she definitely says they are off to Nymburg. The truly odd thing is that she says we shouldn't bother to write to them there because she doesn't know precisely where they are staying, but it will be for only a few days. She'll tell us all about it later.”

“She doesn't know where they will be staying? You're sure the letter is from Susannah?” He laughed and put up a hand to ward off his wife's glare. “It just doesn't sound like our Susannah. Before they set foot out of the house, she had every stop on their itinerary planned down to the minute.”

“I know,” Lady Penworth said. “That's why I found it so disconcerting. It doesn't sound like Susannah at all.”

Lord Penworth began to frown. “You don't suppose she's allowed herself to be dragged into some mad scheme of Augusta's, do you? Or of Olivia's?”

His wife was frowning too. “I wouldn't have thought that possible. I was relying on Susannah to keep them in check. Perhaps I was asking too much of her. She has always been so sensible and mature that I tend to forget how young she is.”

“I'm sure that if there is any serious problem, she will let us know.” He gave the globe a worried turn.

“Yes.” Lady Penworth drew the word out as she stared at the letter. “I'm sure she will. But it is odd.”

Sigmaringen

No trains ran from Baden to Wald, the town—village, really—closest to Staufer's schloss, so they went by carriage. Even the sturdy coach could not disguise the fact that the roads they traveled were little more than unpaved country lanes. If this had been Princess Mila's introduction to her new home, Susannah could understand why she had fled.

They all rode in the coach, a nondescript black one, to preserve their anonymity. That meant they were a bit crowded—more than a bit. Their crumpled skirts might never recover. The ladies were crushed together in the forward-facing seat with Olivia sandwiched in the middle, making it even less likely that she might be seen along the route. Facing them, Captain Staufer took up more than his fair share of the space here as he did everywhere.

To Susannah's annoyance, he took up more than his fair share of her thoughts as well. How could she ignore him when he was right there in front of her with that smile on his face? That smug smile, as if he knew…

Blast!

As if he knew that he was the real reason she had agreed to this idiocy. The chance to learn more about him had proved irresistible.

She could not have him think that she was a coward, that all she cared about was propriety, that all those things Aunt Augusta had said were true. He didn't know what Aunt Augusta had said, of course, but he would probably have thought the same things if Susannah had adamantly refused to allow this…this whatever it was…to go forth.

Having common sense is not cowardice. And behaving properly is not prudishness. It's simple courtesy. Good manners make people comfortable. They…

Why
wouldn't the blasted man stop smiling at her in that infuriating, knowing way!

Susannah turned her head determinedly to look out the window at the trees. That was all there seemed to be—trees. Endless forests of dark evergreens, with occasional bursts of color from the yellow and orange leaves of birch and beech trees. Were there no people in this land? No towns or even villages? Nothing but forest?

And dust. The horses kicked up a cloud of dust as they trotted along, and it crept into the coach despite the closed windows. Her nose was filled with dust and the smell of dust.

The coach hit a bump that sent her up in the air, and then it lurched to the side. She would have landed on the floor had Captain Staufer not caught her. He held her suspended, a look of concern on his face, while she tried to remember how to breathe. When she could manage a smile, he placed her gently back on the seat.

In her corner, Lady Augusta was not smiling. “I do not wish to be insulting, but the roads in Sigmaringen leave something to be desired.”

“My apologies to you all,” said the general, frowning but not looking at all apologetic. “I thought it best to avoid the main roads. Here in the forest, we are unlikely to be observed, and if we are, it will be only by woodcutters and huntsmen.”

Lady Augusta did not look appeased, but Lady Olivia smiled cheerfully. “Well, that makes it even more of an adventure, doesn't it?”

The prospect of an adventure appealed to Susannah less and less. Baden may have been dull, with its rigidly formal gardens and broad paths for invalids in wheelchairs, but it had become familiar. Safe. Now they were traveling into the unknown, and she was worried. Worse, she was cold—so cold that she shivered.

“It will not be much longer, perhaps an hour, until we reach the schloss.” Captain Staufer seemed to be addressing all of them, though he was looking only at Susannah. “There you will be able to recover in comfort.”

* * *

Suse, Lady Susannah, had been right, Max acknowledged to himself. This was a foolish scheme. Yes, they might be able to pull it off, especially if they could find the princess within the next few days, as the general had said. Find her and put her back in place with a minimum of temper tantrums.

It might well be more sensible to tell Prince Conrad that the princess had run off. It would doubtless make a scandal if the news got out, but they might be able to keep it quiet. Her father could hardly complain when his daughter was the one creating the problem.

Sensible, but was Conrad ready to deal with such a problem? He was still, in many ways, so very young and inexperienced. Above all, it was Max's duty to protect Conrad, and that often meant taking care of problems that would be too much for the young prince to handle.

Besides, even if telling Conrad might be sensible, it would not be nearly as much fun. They would be playing a huge joke on everyone, and they could do it. Max was sure of it.

There had been a chance that Susannah would convince her friends to refuse, but she did have a sense of adventure. He had suspected it from the start. A woman who flew to protect her friend armed with nothing more than a frivolous parasol was hardly a prim and proper mouse.

This way he would have a chance to further his acquaintance with her. At the very least, they would have a few days at his schloss while they all prepared for the masquerade.

To allow her to disappear from his life after such a brief encounter would have been a pity.

* * *

Susannah knew that a schloss could be anything from a castle down to a cottage with dreams of glory. Captain Staufer's home was one of the middling sort—three stories high but very plain, with unornamented walls of white stucco and a red roof. It was approached via a bridge over a small lake that bordered one side of the building and looked as if it might once have been part of a moat.

The coach drew up not at the main entrance but at a small side door, and the ladies were whisked silently up a back staircase to the rooms in which, Staufer explained, the princess had been “recuperating.”

To Susannah's delight, a lively fire was burning in the sitting room. She pulled off her gloves and held her hands out to the warmth. A small sigh of pleasure escaped her.

“It is chilly here,” Staufer acknowledged. “The schloss is fairly high up in the mountains.”

“Do you keep fires burning all the time in empty rooms? It seems a bit extravagant.”

He laughed. “Hardly. But it is important to keep up the pretense that the princess is here, keeping to her rooms. And it seemed unlikely that she would wish to sit in the cold, so the fires have been kept up, and light meals have been brought for her.”

“How…thorough of you.” Susannah was not sure she liked it that he was so adept at—well—lying, to call it by its rightful name.

The smile twisted, and he averted his eyes. “That is one of the less pleasant lessons one learns at court—how to create a false image. And that the image is what people will believe.”

There did not seem to be anything one could say to that, so Susannah did not try. Olivia and Aunt Augusta had discovered the wardrobe that the princess had abandoned and were exchanging squeals of delight.

“What…?” Susannah started to speak but decided that this was not a conversation Max needed to hear. She turned to him with a formal smile. “If you would excuse us, Captain?”

He blinked but bowed with equal formality. “Of course. We will see you at dinner.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, she turned on Olivia and Augusta. “What do you think you're doing? You can't raid the princess's wardrobe! That's no different from stealing.”

Olivia looked mortified, at least briefly, but Aunt Augusta said, “Nonsense. If she had wanted her clothes, she would have taken them with her.”

“All that means is that she couldn't carry them all with her,” Susannah said.

“Besides,” Aunt Augusta continued as if Susannah had not spoken, “if Olivia is to portray the princess, she must look the part. How better to do that than in the princess's clothes?”

“They won't fit.” Susannah tried to close the door of the wardrobe.

“We won't know that until Olivia tries them on.” Augusta pulled the wardrobe open again and took out a green taffeta trimmed with yellow. “Hmm. Scheele's green. I don't care for this color.” Tossing it aside, she took out a beige silk trimmed with purple grosgrain. “This is better. The neckline is low enough for evening, and the full sleeves will be needed. The rooms here seem to be chilly despite the fires.”

Olivia held it up. “The length seems about right.”

“And the color is good on you. Try it on, and we'll see how it fits.” Augusta smiled happily.

“This just is not right,” Susannah protested, but she knew she had lost the battle.

A few hours later, they went down to dinner, the “princess” having recovered sufficiently to make an appearance. Olivia wore the beige silk, which was a trifle tight across the bosom but needed only a few stitches to take in the waist.

Susannah's misgivings about the dress paled beside her fear that at any moment someone was going to say, “But that's not the princess!”

No one did.

To Susannah's amazement, the servants—even the ones from Hechingen—accepted Olivia as the princess with no comment, not the slightest look of surprise or doubt. They accepted as well the sudden appearance of two new attendants. Apparently Captain Staufer had mentioned that the ladies-in-waiting had just arrived from Vienna, and everyone accepted this with no question. Susannah realized that she had been expecting some sort of denunciation and could not decide if she was relieved or not when none was forthcoming.

Standing at the window, she looked out at the lake—yes, she now knew it had once been part of a moat. When the need for that sort of protection became less urgent, Staufer told her, his grandfather had turned part of it into a lake and filled in the rest for a garden.

Still, moat or no moat, the schloss was a modest building inside as well as out. The furnishings were comfortable enough, though edging past worn on their way to shabby. The captain might be Count von Staufer, but the title did not seem attached to any great wealth. He probably spent most of his time in the capital, either at court or in the barracks. She had met enough young officers like that in London. Some of them had titles too. And all of them neglected any estates they might possess.

This house was pleasant and could be made attractive easily enough, but it did not have the air of one in which the owner lived. That made it seem even more likely that the court was his real home.

“Are you pleased with the success of the masquerade so far?”

Susannah jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and looked up to see that Staufer was standing right behind her. “I don't know,” she said slowly.

“You have not yet decided if this is a good idea or a foolish one?”

“I'm quite sure it's a foolish one, and I do not know why you lend it your support.” She knew she sounded irritated, but she did not care.

“Don't you?” His smile caressed her. She could almost feel it glide across her cheek, and it was all she could do to turn her face away.

“Stop flirting. That is hardly an adequate explanation.”

Staufer stepped back with a look of regret. “No, you are right. I wish that my only motive was to find a chance to flirt with you, but the prince and I… We are cousins, you know.” He nodded at her look of surprise. “Not close. My father used to say our family is close enough to be loyal, and distant enough to be safe. But when I was a boy, I was one of those sent to be educated with Conrad, to provide him with some companionship. And then when the riots happened in '48, my parents were killed along with his. It gave us a bond.”

“Yes, of course.” She wanted to reach out to him but stifled the impulse. “But even so, I don't understand why you don't tell him that the princess has run away.”

His mouth lifted in a half smile. “I am the older, you see, by three years. My father always told me that I must watch out for Conrad, protect him. That was the duty, the most important duty, that he laid on me. And I fear Conrad is not yet ready to deal with a crisis.” A shadow crossed his face. “Or is he? It is hard to know. Sometimes I think that perhaps I—all of us—protect him too much. He is a bit timid, yes, and unsure of himself. He remains more willing to let others set the course than to take charge himself. Still, he must learn to make decisions, and I sometimes fear he will never learn if we keep him in ignorance.”

Susannah opened her mouth to agree that too much protection was not good for a ruler, but decided it was pointless. Advice from a stranger, especially a stranger who had never even seen the prince, was unlikely to be welcome. So she simply nodded.

“Besides,” he said, grinning once more, “it will be fun.”