Leading Lady (20 page)

‘She even might.' Martha thought about it. ‘Would you like me to invite her up to the palace tomorrow? Once she's here, it will be easier for you to ask to see her.'

‘If you would. And without the husband, if you can.'

‘I can try. And even if he should come, which he is entirely capable of doing, there is nothing to stop you playing the tyrant and insisting on seeing her alone.'

‘I don't believe I'd play the tyrant very well.'

‘No, neither do I.' She smiled at him, surprised at finding herself so entirely his friend.

Martha's messenger found Cristabel alone at the hostel next day, since things were still very much at sixes and sevens at the opera house and Fylde had gone down to Lissenberg on some vague errand that would doubtless end up at the gaming table.

‘Princess Martha wants to see me,' Cristabel told her aunt.

‘I'm glad. I must confess to being devoured with curiosity as to how they are going on up at the palace.'

‘Would you like to come too?'

‘Not if I am not asked, my dear. I suspect that Martha has quite enough on her hands in dealing with Minette de Beauharnais. And she'll be missing Count Tafur, I am sure.'

‘We all are.' She moved over to look out of the window. ‘It almost looks like snow. They are beginning to clear out the tunnel, did you know, getting ready for winter?'

‘So soon?'

‘Yes. They must expect an early winter.'

‘They are probably wrong,' said Lady Helen comfortably. ‘Weather prophets usually seem to be.'

‘Pity it isn't snowing,' Cristabel had been following her own train of thought. ‘Then I could go up through the tunnel, quite informally and be certain of seeing Martha alone, as I am sure she wishes.'

‘Best not, don't you think?' said her aunt. ‘The first time you call at the palace under its new regime.'

‘New regime! Its usurper, you mean. Its tyrant!'

‘Tyrant? Prince Joseph is hardly behaving like one, by all the reports one hears.'

‘Oh, reports! Set forward by himself, no doubt. I just hope, aunt, that I am not so unfortunate as to meet him. I'm not at all sure I would be able to keep a civil tongue in my head.'

‘Dear child, do, pray, be careful.' Lady Helen was seriously concerned now. ‘Don't let your old friendship for the two princes betray you into any foolishness …'

‘Oh, I won't, aunt, I promise I won't. I'll even do my level best to be civil to Minette if I should meet her.' Now she produced a bitter travesty of a laugh. ‘If I wasn't so angry with Prince Joseph I could almost be sorry for him. How long do you think before the announcement, aunt? A week? A month? Or –' a new thought struck her. ‘Do you think her uncle the all-powerful Emperor left her here to choose between the two available princes? If she should decide she preferred Max after all, would he be handed Lissenberg, do you think?'

‘Cristabel!' Now Lady Helen was both shocked and anxious. ‘You cannot still be thinking about Prince Max? Don't forget –'

‘That I'm a married lady? I never forget that. How could I, so fortunate as my marriage has turned out.'

‘Oh, my dear.' Suddenly, appallingly, Lady Helen was in tears. ‘I'll never forgive myself.'

‘Ah, don't!' Cristabel amazed herself by hugging her formidable aunt. ‘It's nobody's fault but mine. Don't make it harder for me to forgive myself.'

‘And him?'

‘Who? Oh – Desmond! I try not to think about him. But I must not keep Martha waiting.'

‘Give her my love.'

‘I will. And don't fret, aunt. What's done, is done. We must just live with it as best we can, and I do bless you for the help you are giving me.'

‘You look well!' Cristabel had been glad to find Martha still in the royal apartments. After the first embrace, she held her friend at arm's length to look at her. ‘I've never seen you in such a glow! You thrive on deposition?'

‘Do you know, we do!' Martha only wished she could return the compliment, but thought Cristabel looked wretched.

‘Franz too?'

‘Why, yes, I think so. You know what it's been like for him, this last year. He's done his best, and small thanks he's had for it. Now, he's a free man again, doing the work he loves. And, Cristabel, we all like Joseph so much!'

‘How can you!'

‘It's rather, how can we not?'

‘Napoleon's spy! When I think how he wormed his way in … Opened the gates of Lissenberg to the tyrant!'

‘Well, Cristabel, hardly that. It was actually my poor Franz who showed Napoleon the way to take Lissenberg. Just think how much worse things might have been for us all, if it had not been for Joseph.'

‘Does he call you Martha?'

‘Yes.'

‘I don't understand you! And I suppose, the next thing, you will be welcoming Minette de Beauharnais as a sister-in-law?'

‘Ah, now that is a question, isn't it? Franz thinks so, but, for myself, I'm not so sure. But –' with a glance at the clock on the chimney piece, ‘Cristabel, I've a confession to make to you. I have got you here on false pretences. Joseph asked me to. He wants to see you. He has a favour to ask of you.'

‘A favour? Of me?' Her eyes showed brilliant in a blanched face. ‘And if I refuse to see him?'

‘Please don't do that, Cristabel. For all our sakes?'

Introduced by Baron Hals, Cristabel found Joseph kneeling on the floor of his study, measuring something on an enormous map. He folded it with a swift movement, rose to his feet, held out both hands. ‘Lady Cristabel! Forgive me?'

She ignored the appealing hands, swept him an almost theatrical curtsy. ‘What is there for me to forgive, if your brothers have? And Martha. They are your relations, I am merely your paid entertainer. You have something to add, perhaps, to Mademoiselle de Beauharnais's instructions about the entertainment for her party?'

‘Instructions?'

‘What else? She quite longs to hear the final duet from
Night of Errors
.' Even through her anger, the parody of Minette's fluting tones came over, clear and sardonic.

‘Intolerable! I never meant … I've wished so much to thank you for
Crusader Prince
– for what you did for my brothers. And for Lissenberg. You stood between Lissenberg and disaster.'

‘No need to thank me, prince. I did it for Lissenberg, not for any of you. And I enjoyed doing it.'

‘So brilliantly! Must you be so formal with me? I had hoped we were friends.'

‘I thought we were. I also thought you were Doctor Joseph. I must congratulate you on your brilliant coup, highness. And on your approaching marriage?'

‘No! There are limits to what I will do, even for Lissenberg.'

‘You'll marry her to poor Max then? Demand from him the sacrifice you won't make yourself?'

‘Cristabel!' Once again his hand went out, looking for hers, but she had withdrawn a swift step.

‘Lady Cristabel! No: Mrs Desmond Fylde!' Her colour was high now, her eyes sparkling with rage.

‘I wish you would sit down! That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Your marriage. I have undertaken to introduce Napoleon's legal code without delay. You will be able to obtain a divorce, and I urge that you do so as soon as possible.'

‘How good of you to interest yourself in my affairs!' She had taken another step away from him. ‘And now, if you will permit, I must return to my duties. I promise you that
Mademoiselle de Beauharnais will not be disappointed next week, though I confess I am surprised that you approve her choice of music'

‘But I don't! That's the other thing I want to tell you.' And, feeling himself almost babbling, he plunged into a description of the Beethoven opera he had found. It won him her professional attention at least, and she showed the first sign of warmth when he handed her copies he had had made of the duet between Regulus and Marcus.

‘Thank you.' She was still standing. ‘I promise I'll do my best – we'll do our best, my husband and I. For Lissenberg. For a quiet winter.'

‘Not for me?'

‘Why in the world should I do anything for you?'

The day before the party, a mud-stained messenger brought the news that Napoleon had taken Ulm and was poised to attack Vienna. ‘You see!' Minette told Martha. ‘He is carrying all before him as usual, that amazing uncle of mine. If only we get the news of Vienna's fall before winter seals the roads! It would immensely strengthen dear Joseph's position. What a glutton for work that man is! It's harder to gain access to him than to the Emperor himself. I think we should explain to him, Martha dear, that there is more to governing a country than paperwork. He won't make himself loved here in Lissenberg if he's always too busy to see people.'

‘He made a special journey to Brundt to deliver the invitations to your party in person,' Martha pointed out. ‘And so far as I know everyone is coming.'

‘Every single kraut and burgher!' Minette had not liked seeing what she had meant as a select little party so extended. ‘How in the world are you going to fit them all in, Martha?'

‘By opening up the armoury on one side of the great hall, and the guard-room on the other.' Martha smiled. ‘I've had to borrow all the tapestries from the opera house and the hostel, and Frau Schmidt has promised to come early and bring me some from Brundt. We'll have refreshments in the armoury, dancing in the great hall, with the orchestra on the dais. And the singers there too, of course.'

‘This mysterious Beethoven opera that everyone's so excited about. I never could endure his music myself, but I suppose one must sit through it out of courtesy to Cristabel. But, Martha, the dancing. That ridiculous man Joseph is so busy … Has he thought that he must open the ball? Suitably partnered –' A significant pause.

‘I expect so,' said Martha. ‘But you know, Minette, he's been so absorbed since the Emperor's engineers arrived that
there has been no getting him to think about anything else. When I ask about the party, he just leaves everything to me!'

‘But he sees you!' Minette pounced on it.

‘Five minutes every morning. Question and answer, and he's off to the mountains again with the engineers. They want to ride both ends of the cut they plan before winter closes in; and the country is pretty rugged, he says. He's enjoying himself!' It was impossible not to like Joseph for the way he had plunged into this arduous work, and it was doing him good, she thought. Tanned and toughened by the all-weather riding, he no longer looked so much older than his brothers.

‘Oh, men!' said Minette. ‘Well, tomorrow morning, Martha, you remind him about opening the ball! It won't do to get the Lissenbergers together and then affront them by any breach of ceremony.'

‘No.' Martha agreed. ‘But then, there are all kinds of ways to affront people, aren't there? It's not going to be an easy occasion, Minette. I just hope it isn't a disastrous one.'

‘Krauts and burghers,' said Minette again. ‘What they need is a lavish show, and I am sure we can rely on you to provide that, Martha. What a good creature you are, to be sure, to take so much trouble for the man who has ousted your husband. I do hope you realise how much we appreciate it, even if my wicked Joseph is too busy to say so.'

‘I hope you won't treat our guests as “krauts and burghers”, Minette.'

‘I suppose you think I should dance with your dear friend Ishmael Brodski, just to show what good democrats we are.'

‘If he were to ask you,' said Martha.

Desmond Fylde was finding Beethoven's music hard to sing, as indeed it was, but worth it, in Cristabel's opinion, which he did not share. Franz kept them late at the opera house on the night before the party and had a qualm of conscience when he finally let them go. Cristabel looked exhausted, and Fylde looked predatory. But he was already overdue at the palace, where, he knew, there were a million things still to be done.

‘Rest well,' he told Cristabel. ‘I'm sure it will go brilliantly tomorrow. And then we can get down to work on the opera itself. Exactly what we need for this winter.'

‘Not a call to revolution in it anywhere?'

‘No. Just love of country. What could be more suitable for Lissenberg right now?'

‘And love of one another,' said Cristabel. ‘Regulus may love Rome, but Marcus loves Regulus.'

‘Hard on Livia,' said Fylde, and it came back to Franz that during the day he had seen some kind of angry exchange between Fylde and Maria, the seconda donna who sang Livia. ‘And hard, too,' Fylde went on, ‘that Maria is not to sing tomorrow. Can I not persuade you to change your mind about that?'

‘I'm afraid not.' Maria sang Beethoven's difficult music even worse than Fylde, but one could hardly tell him that. ‘The prince has asked that the entertainment be kept short, as you know, leaving plenty of time for talk and dancing. You two are just the appetiser to the feast.'

‘What a vulgarian!' Fylde had firmly taken Cristabel's arm as they left the opera house. ‘Lissenberg's well rid of him. The appetiser indeed! And all this talk about love of country is quite comic, when you think about our Doctor – Prince Joseph, born in Switzerland, bred in France, a man out for himself if ever there was one. He loves Lissenberg the way a gourmet loves a truffle. To swallow it whole.' His pressure on her arm increased. ‘That's one opinion we share, you and I, as I well know. Scorn for the interloper who made such a public fool of you. Doctor Joseph indeed! Pretender and mountebank. It makes me mad to remember how I let him pull the wool over my eyes! Left him alone to “examine” you. We could make things very awkward for Prince Joseph if we were so minded, you and I.'

‘What in the world do you mean?' They had reached the main hall of the hostel and she turned to face him, withdrawing her arm from his.