The Accidental Empress (36 page)

“Please, Elisabeth, call me Mother,” Sophie answered, nodding humbly even as she asked the baron beside her if he had ever seen such a crown given to a daughter-in-law.

Next, Grünne presented Sisi with a new lambs’ wool cloak, lined with white rabbit’s fur. Karoline and Paula had coordinated to buy their queen the matching muff and sleigh blanket. Countess Esterházy had ordered a mirror framed in gold gilt along with a custom leather devotional prayer book. Marie Festetics, aware of Sisi’s recent homesickness, presented Sisi with a bound book of Bavarian folk songs and poems. “A reminder of Christmas at home,” the Hungarian countess explained.

“I love it, Marie,” Sisi said, deeply touched by the thoughtful and personal gesture.

Helene and Ludovika had sent newly knit sweaters in Bavarian wool for the new baby, and Duke Maximilian had sent several prints of Bavarian Alpine landscapes, along with a few barrels of Bavarian beer.

Ambassador Meyendorff gifted Sisi with a case of fine Russian vodka and caviar, and Baron von Bach gave her a new pair of leather riding gloves. Doctor Seeburger and the aide Herr Lobkowitz, neither of whom had been invited to the formal banquet, had sent gifts of a cashmere blanket and a new wooden escritoire, respectively.

“Well, it looks like Sisi is getting fatigued. Let’s finish this up. It’s your husband’s turn,” Sophie said, turning to her son where he stood, quietly, in the corner. Beside him stood Grünne and the unnamed brunette.

“Franz, come out of that corner. What are you doing? Where is your gift for your bride?”

“Oh, I gave her my gifts last night,” Franz said, sipping from his wine cup. “Some were more well-received than others.” These words hit Sisi like a blow. Franz had not masked his sour tone in front of the entire crowd gathered in the drawing room.

Sisi’s skin flushed a deep red as she felt every pair of eyes turn on her. Karoline leaned toward Paula, whispering into her ear. Countess Esterházy scowled, exchanging a look with Sophie. Aware that they all watched, probing her reaction for any sign of distress or weakness, Sisi resisted the urge to show any.

“My husband is so funny.” Sisi cocked her head. “And so thoughtful. He knows very well that I loved all of the gifts he presented to me last night. Why, do you know that he commissioned a waltz from Master Strauss, just for me? That was my favorite gift. I loved it so much that I believe I forgot to properly thank him for some of the other gifts.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed as they darted from her son to her son’s wife, sniffing for any scent of marital discord. Eventually, she spoke. “Franz, you know that we do gifts together as a family. Why would you have your own private exchange?” When Franz didn’t answer, Sophie shrugged, a flick of her wrist. “No bother. Who’s next to open presents?”

The crowd insisted that Sophie be the next recipient, a suggestion she accepted with much exaggerated protestation. And so the evening progressed, with ample flattery and self-congratulating, and Sisi attempting to participate without too fully revealing her inward misery.

Franz spent the entirety of dinner speaking with Meyendorff to his left. At the conclusion of the meal, he rose and excused himself from the table. Sisi stayed in her seat, struggling to remain composed.

“Merry Christmas, Empress Elisabeth.”

Sisi looked up, into the face of her lady-in-waiting, Karoline of Lamberg. Taken aback, Sisi nodded. “Thank you, Karoline. Same to you.”

Karoline hovered, shifting her weight. Her lips were a deep maroon after too many glasses of red wine enjoyed at dinner. After a moment, Karoline leaned forward. “Your Majesty, is everything all right?” Her eyes slid sideways, in the direction of Franz’s empty chair.

“I just wanted to make sure that you”—again, Karoline’s gaze darted to Franz’s vacant seat—“that Your Majesties were enjoying your Christmas together.” The words came out a bit too eager; words that betrayed Karoline’s hope that, in spite of what she said, the opposite was in fact true.

Sisi’s spine went stiff. “Everything is fine, Karoline. Enjoy your Christmas.”

“Right, then.” Karoline stood back up, angling her body away from the empress. “Good.”

“You look pale, Elisabeth.” The archduchess approached now, depositing a plate of candied fruits, nuts, and chocolate torte in front of her daughter-in-law. She lowered herself into the seat just vacated by her son. Karoline scampered off, gliding across the room to where Paula stood. Sisi turned to her mother-in-law now.

“Do I, Aunt Sophie?”

“And you barely touched your food. Did you not enjoy the meal? Eat some of this dessert—the torte was the best, though I don’t know why they were so stingy on the cream.” With that, Sophie forked herself a generous bite of torte from the plate she’d just deposited in front of Sisi.

“I loved the meal,” Sisi lied, pretending to enjoy a bite of steamed pears covered in caramelized brown sugar. It tasted sickeningly sweet. She dropped her fork and looked up, her eyes roving around the room, searching for Franz.

“You are exhausted, Elisabeth. This was too much activity for you. You must go to bed. I’ll have some wine and chicken broth sent up to you.”

“No, I’m fine, Aunt.” Sisi shook her head, still scanning the room.

Sophie sat up, bristling at this disregard for her advice. “Elisabeth, the banquet is over. The men are about to retire into the library for spirits and smoking, while we ladies shall go sing Christmas carols in the drawing room. You shall miss nothing if you retire now, I assure you.”

Sensing that her aunt would not be refused, and feeling too exhausted to move with the rest of the ladies to the next room for more Christmas merriment, Sisi acquiesced. “Very well,” Sisi agreed, nodding. The thought of pretending to enjoy Christmas carols with Sophie was too much to bear.

Sisi found Franz in the corner of the candlelit hall, speaking to Grünne. Nearby, Karoline and Paula huddled with Grünne’s pretty brunette from earlier in the evening. Though they pretended to be engrossed in conversation, just the three of them, Sisi noticed the sideways glances the ladies stole, watching her as she approached the emperor.

“Excuse me, Franz?” Sisi nodded at Grünne. “I apologize for interrupting, Count.”

“You need never apologize, Empress Elisabeth.” Grünne bowed low, stepping back to grant them privacy. He was quickly absorbed into the huddle with Karoline and Paula, and Sisi overheard their gay laughter as she leaned in toward Franz.

“Franz”—Sisi spoke quietly, noticing the way his eyes wandered to the scene behind her, in the direction of where Grünne had just stepped. Sisi shifted, stepping in front of her husband’s gaze. “I will retire a bit early. I’m fatigued.”

Franz nodded, still not looking at her.

“Will you escort me out?” She heard her voice crack as she asked.

“If you like,” he said, offering his arm. Perfectly polite, yet undeniably distant.

“Merry Christmas, Empress Elisabeth,” Grünne called out, nodding his head as she turned to leave.

“I’ll be right back, Grünne,” Franz said. “I shall see the empress out.”

“Take your time, Your Majesty.”

Sisi tightened her grip on Franz’s arm as he escorted her toward the door. “Will you be late?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “It’s early yet. And it’s Christmas. Surely you don’t expect me to retire this early?”

Sisi bit her lower lip, then forced the gesture into a smile. “Of course not. I wish for you to enjoy your Christmas.” Her mind raced inwardly. When she spoke next, she attempted to sound calm, conversational. “Who is the lady?”

“Who?” Franz nodded at clusters of courtiers as they glided by.

“The dark-haired lady speaking to Grünne. I have never met her.”

“I didn’t see.”

Sisi’s glance slid sideways, staring at Franz. “Surely you must have.”

He did not return her gaze.

“She was quite pretty.”

“Was she?” They approached the doorway. Footmen bowed deeply as they passed.

“Surely you noticed, my darling,” Sisi said, her heartbeat throbbing in her throat, between her ears. The woman’s beauty was made so much more threatening by the fact that Franz seemed reluctant to acknowledge it to his wife. She inhaled, willing herself to calm down. “Franz, please. Forgive me. I was quarrelsome last night. But I must speak with you.”

“Not now, Elisabeth,” he said, a note of impatience in his voice. “I wish to enjoy what remains of Christmas.”

“Well . . .” she faltered. “Will you come to me tonight? Please.”

After a long pause, his jaw set, Franz answered. “Later.”

Sisi was so relieved that she nearly burst into tears.

When she awoke in the middle of the night, Franz was not in bed beside her. Sisi’s grogginess evaporated instantly. It was thick black outside, with just the faintest hint of purple. Almost predawn, probably after four in the morning, and no sign of Franz. Where could he be? Sisi’s mind wandered back to dinner, when her aunt had told her that the women would retire to sing Christmas carols while the men would smoke and drink. Certainly the men, after several rounds, would have joined the ladies in the drawing room and the party would have escalated to a whole new level of revelry. Drunk on Christmas wine and jolly from the festive mood, the group would have most likely begun dancing. Grünne was courting that young, dark-eyed woman, so he likely would have drawn Franz into his cause.

A troubling thought took hold of Sisi, twisting itself around her like a suffocating cord. Her aunt had been very eager to see Sisi off to bed. Was it concern for her fatigue, or had it been to get rid of her? Had Sophie picked tonight to divert her son’s attention, perhaps introduce him to some young, acquiescent lady in the court who would be happy to provide a substitute for the emperor’s indisposed wife? Had she picked this night, when it was so apparent to all that Franz, usually so warm and affectionate, had clearly been out of spirits and irritated by Sisi? And wouldn’t Franz, having abstained from relations with his wife for months, have been ripe for the temptation?

Sleep eluded Sisi for the remainder of the night, and she faced the dawn in her bedroom with a bitter, frantic resolve. This ridiculous spat, this power struggle for her husband’s affection, had gone on too long. And she was losing. She needed to find a way to bring Franz back to her.