Princess in Love (18 page)

He was stalling and she knew it, for the idea of saying a hurried good-bye at the
palace gate was too horrible to bear. Her heart was beating out of control, and her
stomach was in knots. But she kept that to herself, for she did not want to spoil
the magic of their last moments together.

Never letting go of her hand, Leopold led her to the nearest tree and told her to
select the apple of her choice.

“That one,” she said, pointing to the one that was the brightest red in color, yet
low enough so that he would not need to climb.

He jumped to grab hold of the branch, pulled it low so she could reach it. “It is
yours for the plucking.”

She smiled at him as she picked it, then held it out to him.

He took a big bite, crunching into the crisp flesh. “Sweet and juicy. Your turn now.”

She turned it over in her hand to inspect the surface, and selected a spot next to
the place where he had taken the first bite. As she crunched into it, the flavor stimulated
her senses.

Arms wrapped around each other, they took turns finishing the apple, then he tossed
the core deep into the orchard.

Her heart sank. “I suppose this means we must go.”

He nodded. “Before the sun comes up.”

He helped her into the curricle and went to pick another apple, which he fed to the
horse before climbing up beside her. Soon he was snapping the lines and they were
under way.

Rose linked her arm through Leopold’s, and rested her head on his shoulder as he steered
the curricle around a tree and began heading out in the opposite direction.

“I will never forget this night,” she said. “Not as long as I live.”

They spoke very little on the return, but words hardly seemed necessary. Everything
that mattered was contained in the bond she felt with Leopold while her head rested
on his shoulder and he held her close, keeping her warm against the early morning
chill.

As they drew closer to the palace, however, the dread moved in like a dark cloud,
and she knew it would soon be time to let him go.

“We should say our good-byes now,” he said, “for if we linger too long at the gate,
we may be recognized.”

He pulled the vehicle to a halt and took her into his arms. “Wait for me,” he whispered.
“When I return, things will be different. I will win Randolph’s support in Vienna
and seek his permission to marry you.”

“I am not worried,” she replied. “I know this is meant to be. But you must be careful
in Vienna. Keep our plans secret from Randolph. He did not respond well to the idea
of another man wooing me away from Joseph. Wait until he returns from the Congress.
Only then can we begin a respectable courtship.”

He kissed her passionately. Rose threw her arms around his neck. She could hardly
bear it. She didn’t want to say good-bye, but knew she must. “It feels as if my life
will stop and pause in silence while you are gone. Only when you return, will the
music begin to play again.”

He kissed her cheek. “I will be back as soon as I am able.”

He drove closer to the gate.

“Good-bye,” she quickly said as she shielded her face with her cloak and hopped out
of the carriage. Hurrying across the lane, she ran past the guard.

“Did you enjoy yourself, miss?” he teasingly asked.

She did not respond, for she could see no humor in the moment as the horse began to
trot away and Leopold was again pulled from her world.

Chapter Seventeen

Hofburg Palace, Vienna
October 13, 1814

In his pocket, Randolph carried with him at all times the private, intimate letter
from his sister, Rose, to Archduke Joseph, heir to the Austrian throne and eldest
son of their generous host, Emperor Francis.

Randolph had hoped to deliver the letter the day he arrived, but was informed that
Joseph had not yet returned from his diplomatic visit to Naples, though he was expected
to arrive home at any time.

As a result, Randolph went about the business of the Congress, meeting with the other
European monarchs while establishing a strong rapport with Prince Metternich, the
Austrian foreign minister and influential president of the peace conference.

He also attended an important dinner with Talleyrand, the French foreign minister,
and the following evening he and Nicholas were invited to the Duchess of Sagan’s salon
at the Palm Palace, where he spent most of the evening wishing he were at home in
Petersbourg with Alexandra, spending the hours alone with her, naked in bed. All he
wanted to do presently was return to his apartments at the Hofburg and write to her
about the events of the day and all that he had seen and experienced thus far.

He regretted not bringing her. She was his queen, after all, and they were newlyweds,
but she was in a delicate condition with her pregnancy and the palace physician had
advised against it.

Just then, the butler announced a late arrival to the Duchess of Sagan’s intimate
soiree. “His Imperial Highness, Joseph Francis.”

The duchess went quickly to greet him while Randolph put a hand to his breast pocket.
Was he carrying Rose’s letter this evening?

Nicholas appeared at his side just then. “Well, this is a surprise. Will you tell
him tonight? Seems a shame. He only just arrived.”

“I believe these things are best dealt with head-on,” Randolph replied.

“At least let him have a drink first.”

The archduke—who was an exceedingly dignified gentleman, richly dressed, with light
blond hair and a freckled complexion—kissed the duchess’s hand, then lifted his gaze
and spotted Randolph across the room. His expression brightened, and he excused himself
from the duchess’s company.

Randolph and Nicholas each greeted him. “Welcome back, Your Highness.”

“Your Majesty,” he cheerfully replied. “What an unexpected pleasure. My father and
I were pleased you could both attend the Congress. But first, please accept my sincere
condolences over your own father’s passing.”

“Thank you,” Randolph said. Nicholas nodded in agreement.

“And Rose?” the archduke asked. “How is she? What a shame she couldn’t join you.”

Randolph set his empty glass down on a table. “Yes, indeed. In that regard, I have
a letter for you. If you will excuse me for one moment?”

He left Joseph with Nicholas while he sought out their hostess to request the use
of a more private location—her dining room perhaps. All the while, his heart was filling
with dread, for he genuinely liked the archduke. He was not going to enjoy disappointing
him in this manner.

*   *   *

Ten minutes later, the archduke lowered the letter to his side and sank into a chair
at the table.

Randolph, who was already seated, said nothing for a moment. He wanted to give Joseph
an opportunity to absorb the contents of the letter.

Joseph pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy sigh. “Well, I suppose it’s
good to learn these things at the outset, rather than let it drag on and on. Did she
tell you why exactly? Was it something I did, or did not do?”

“Of course not,” Randolph assured him. “She holds you in the highest regard, but I
believe she was finding it difficult to imagine leaving Petersbourg.”

Joseph nodded. “I see. Well … it would no doubt be difficult to leave one’s home country.”
He paused. “I wonder if I should have done something more when I learned of your father’s
passing. I fear I should have traveled to Petersbourg to be at her side. It was wrong
of me to have placed so much importance upon the distance and the time it would take
to make such a journey. I felt uncertain about it at the time. I should have spared
nothing.” He met Randolph’s gaze. “I
did
think of her, and I was very sorry for your loss. Please apologize to her for me,
will you? Tell her I bear no ill will toward her for this change of heart. That I
understand and accept her decision. And thank her for the letter. It was very kindly
worded. Did you read it?”

Randolph shook his head. “No, I believe it was meant to be private.”

Joseph looked down at it. “She says she hopes I will forgive her. Tell her I do, and
that I hope she will always consider me a friend.”

They both stood up. Randolph reached into his pocket and withdrew the ring, which
he had been carrying in a small velvet bag. He handed it to the archduke.

An awkward silence ensued.

“Well,” Joseph said. “I should probably make my excuses to the duchess and bow out
early. I don’t think I will be cheerful company this evening.”

“I am sorry, Joseph.”

He waved a hand. “No, no. Please do not apologize. I appreciate her honesty, and it
is best that we discover these things early on. Thank you for delivering the news
personally, Your Majesty. It couldn’t have been easy.”

With that, he bid Randolph farewell and left the duchess’s salon.

Rand returned to the party and picked up a glass of claret from a footman’s tray.

Nicholas approached him. “It couldn’t be helped,” he said. “At least it’s done. You
have fulfilled your duty.”

Rand nodded. “He took it well. He’s a good man. It’s a shame, really, that Rose couldn’t
feel some affection for him. Perhaps I should have done more to encourage the match.”

“Don’t punish yourself. Love is funny that way. Most of the time, someone gets hurt.
You did the right thing. It would have been wrong to force her into matrimony, and
it is best that the archduke found out sooner rather than later.”

Rand finished the drink, then also made his excuses to the duchess and left the salon
early, for after witnessing a good man’s heart being broken, he found himself missing
his own wife more than words could say.

PART III

Disappointments

Chapter Eighteen

Petersbourg
December 3, 1814

It hardly seemed possible, but here she stood at last, strolling with a feigned appearance
of boredom around the potted palms in the palace conservatory, waiting for Leopold
to meet her.

Finally, he had returned to Petersbourg. He had come home early from Vienna for he
could not bear to be away from her another day. He also claimed he had good news.

What was it? Rose wondered impatiently as she paced back and forth upon the gray flagstones.
He had not elaborated in the brief note he’d sent the night before. Other than that,
they had not written to each other for fear of being discovered.

But none of that mattered now. He was home at last, and in a few short minutes he
would be holding her in his arms.

The sound of footsteps at the entrance to the conservatory reached her from a distance,
and a sizzling thrill of anticipation coursed through her.

She stood motionless, watching and waiting … Was it him? Was it Leopold, her great
love?

At long last, he appeared from around a flowering rhododendron and stopped in his
tracks when he spotted her.

The rest of the world vanished while she took in the breathtaking sight of his tall,
muscled form beneath an elegant dove gray jacket and pristine white cravat. He was
so handsome in the bright wintry light shining in through the conservatory windows,
she felt almost dizzy with awe.

“My love,” he said, taking a few swift strides toward her. “I thought this day would
never come.”

All at once, the world came alive again as he pulled her into his arms and kissed
her. His lips were soft and moist, yet fiercely demanding. Her heart couldn’t keep
still. Her flesh tingled with excitement.

“I thought you would never get here,” she said, trying to keep her voice low when
she wanted to shout out loud from the highest mountain.

“How I missed you,” he replied, “but I am here now, at last.” He kissed her passionately
until the chirp of a bird caused them to step apart and look up. “I thought we were
alone,” he said good-naturedly.

Rose watched the tiny sparrow dart around, up and over the treetops, just below the
glass ceiling.

“Sometimes I wonder if she wants to escape this place, or if she truly enjoys being
here.” She met Leopold’s gaze. “There were days I felt trapped here just like that
little bird. I wanted to break through a window and fly off to Vienna to be with you.”

He held both her hands in his. “There shall be no need for broken windows, darling,
for I am here now, returned to you.”

They heard voices just beyond the entrance, so they began to stroll casually along
the path.

“Did you visit Alexandra?” Rose asked, for he had mentioned that he would do so first
before coming to the conservatory. It had been his excuse to pay a visit to the palace.

“Yes, I just came from the queen’s chambers. I had a stack of letters to deliver from
Randolph, and she asked me about the conference. That is why I am so late. There was
much to tell. She was curious about the peace talks and wanted to know all about the
whirl of the social calendar. I believe she is missing her husband terribly.”

“There can be no question about that,” Rose agreed. “She waits very impatiently for
his letters. There haven’t been any for a while, so I am pleased you were able to
deliver some. That will keep her occupied, no doubt. But you said you had good news.
What is it, Leopold? Please, I beg of you, put an end to the suspense.”

He glanced over his shoulder as if to check for prying eyes and ears, then stopped
at a bench and invited her to sit down.

“First, before I say anything, have you heard from the archduke? Has he accepted that
your engagement is officially ended?”

She clasped both his hands. “Yes. Randolph gave him my letter and returned the ring,
and Joseph has since written to me to say that he accepts my decision and bears no
ill will toward me. He hopes that we will be friends and wishes me happiness in the
future.”

Leopold regarded her quietly. “I must tell you, Rose, that I met him while I was in
Vienna. On more than one occasion, in fact. There were many dinners and balls. It
was impossible not to mix with all the conference attendees, not to mention our Austrian
hosts.”