The Accidental Empress (9 page)

They cleared this room by way of a high-ceilinged doorway and immediately stepped into a much smaller room. This one was flooded with light, walled in by floor-to-ceiling windows, and Sisi blinked, her eyes having already adjusted to the dark, cool hallway.

“Your Majesty, Archduchess Sophie, may I present to you Her Royal Highness, the Duchess Ludovika Wilhelmine, wife of Duke Maximilian of Bavaria from the House of Wittelsbach.”

Sisi’s eyes followed the direction in which this secretary projected his voice, and she noticed, for the first time, the seated figure of her aunt. Sophie was tucked in at a small table, a man on each side. Their faces were lit by the splash of afternoon sunshine that seeped in through the French doors and floor-to-ceiling windows. The male companions, one quite young, the other quite old, must have been a military officer and a minister, Sisi guessed. There were others in the room, too. Sisi’s eyes moved next to the corner where, removed from the seated party, stood a gray-haired woman, her complexion chalky and her face pinched. Unlike the standing footmen sprinkled around the room, wigged men who kept their eyes diverted and expressionless, this gray-haired woman studied the three Bavarian newcomers unashamedly, rendering her verdict with a tight jaw and a mistrustful gaze. Who was she? Sisi wondered.

Sisi’s eyes turned back toward her aunt, who looked on the newly arrived trio with an appraising expression, one of curiosity, but not delight. At the secretary’s introduction, Ludovika stepped forward, fanning her black skirt wide and curtsying low with a grace that surprised Sisi.

“And her daughters.” The secretary, seemingly unsure of which girl was which, waved them forward simultaneously. “Their Royal Highnesses, Helene Caroline Therese and Elisabeth Amalie Eugenie, Duchesses in Bavaria, of the House of Wittelsbach.” The two girls followed the example set by their mother and curtsied in unison. Sisi found it odd, even slightly entertaining, to hear herself referred to with such a lofty string of words.

An almost imperceptible flicker of Sophie’s forefinger signified that they were to enter the room and approach her at the table. With the duchess leading, the three of them crossed the threshold and moved toward where Sophie sat.

“Slowly, girls,” Ludovika whispered between Helene and Sisi. “Heads down,” she reminded them.

But Sisi could not resist the temptation to steal a glance upward at the figure she approached. The archduchess was as Sisi remembered her: a more sharp-featured version of her mother. Like Ludovika, Sophie wore her hair so that her face was framed by tight ringlets—light brown laced with wisps of gray—that met in a low bun at the nape of her head.

Sophie’s salmon-colored gown draped over a broad crinoline hoopskirt; emerald earrings danced beside her rouged cheeks as she jerked her head tightly from side to side, eyeing each visitor in turn. She had narrow eyes that seemed more probing and less inclined to smile than Ludovika’s.

Sophie was to speak first, according to Ludovika, but the woman did not appear in any rush to break the silence, so that the only sound in the room was the coordinated clicking of the visitors’ heels as they crossed the marble floor. The three of them paused several feet before their hostess. Sisi was close enough now that she could smell Sophie’s perfume, a potent mixture of sweet floral scents. Up close, Sophie was wider than Ludovika in the bosom and hips, most likely as a result of the imperial banquets she now enjoyed with her son. In fact, the table at which she sat was cluttered with teapots, biscuits, miniature cakes, and platters of nuts and fruit. It struck Sisi how hungry she was after their hours on the road.

A small cream-colored dog sat in the imperial mother’s lap, haughtily observing the three silent visitors from his perch before the tea service. Sophie’s ringed fingers stroked the pet’s thick fur, and at one point she picked up the small animal to whisper an inaudible phrase of affection into its pointed ear.

Ludovika cleared her throat, and Sophie turned from her tiny dog to look at them once more. “So, the Bavarians have arrived.” As this statement left little opening for a reply, the three visitors remained silent.

“What is this?” Sophie continued, “Ludovika, are you so interested in my palace floors that you won’t even look up at your old sister?”

At this remark, Ludovika lifted her eyes and smiled at her sister. “Hello, Sophie. It’s good to see you.”

“Hello, Ludie. It’s good to see you, too. I was beginning to think you didn’t recognize me, these imperial cooks have caused me to get so round.”

And with that, Ludovika let out a laugh, gliding toward her sister’s chair and reaching forward in a greeting that was half a bow, half a hug. The two women embraced, and the display of affection served to noticeably slacken Sisi’s frayed nerves; Sisi hoped Helene found the same effect.

Would this be her and Helene someday? Sisi wondered. Sisters meeting like strangers after decades of prolonged separation? Babies, and husbands, and different homelands pulling them apart as if they had never shared a bed and nighttime whispers and a childhood home? No, Sisi decided. Helene would never become remote. She’d never be the type to use her authority and power as a perch from which to look down upon her former life. And Sisi would never let so much time lapse without the two of them seeing one another.

Sisi used the distraction of the reunion to study her surroundings further. As she’d noticed before, Sophie was flanked by two men, both of whom had stood upon the entrance of the ladies. On one side stood the older of the two, a wigged man wearing a suit of dove-gray silk and tight white curls: a minister of some sort, Sisi guessed. He did not watch the meeting taking place before him, but kept his eyes fixed forward at the table in a look of cool disinterest. On Sophie’s other side stood a young man in the full military uniform. Apparently a military aide or advisor, though young, by the looks of it. Young and quite handsome. The officer had pale-blue eyes, auburn hair with just a hint of a wave, and a thin mustache. He had a narrow frame, but Sisi had to admit that he made quite an arresting impression in the sturdy red and white uniform, its details trimmed in gold thread. The young officer looked up in time to catch Sisi staring at him. Quickly, she averted her eyes, but not before her cheeks had grown warm. Oh, how she would have to watch herself at court, suddenly exposed to all of these handsome men! No, she could not allow herself to be distracted by Aunt Sophie’s military aide, or any other man, when she had to help Helene secure her place as the emperor’s wife.

The two sisters now separated from their embrace. Sisi noticed that both women had tears on their cheeks, though Sophie quickly brushed hers aside and sat back down in her chair.

“Well, Ludovika, step aside so that I may see your beautiful daughters.” The cold edges of Sophie’s authority had been thawed, slightly, by the display of familial affection. But an intangible sternness still clung to her unsmiling features.

“Of course, Soph. This here—”

“Tut, tut, so you’ve taken it upon yourself to disregard my royal title?” The archduchess leaned her head to the side, staring at her younger sister with a quizzical purse of her lips. “So comfortable, already?”

“Oh.” Ludovika cleared her throat. “Am . . . am I to call you . . .”

“I’m only teasing,” Sophie said with a flicker of her wrist as if to swat away a fly. “A joke.”

But was it? Sisi wondered.

“Step aside, Ludovika.”

“Yes, of course.” Ludovika slid backward, like a skittish mare unclear of the trainer’s instructions, fearful of the whip. Now Aunt Sophie’s eyes fell fully, for the first time, onto her nieces. “Ludovika,” her eyes narrowed, “why are they in black?”

What happened next was quick, an instantaneous exchange, and one Sisi might not have noticed had she not been watching her aunt so closely. Sophie’s eyes darted to the young man, the officer standing beside her, as if to ask him something. A wordless communication. And then she turned back to Ludovika, her gaze cold and censorious. “Why have you not changed out of this awful black, Ludovika?” Sophie crossed her arms in front of her.

“We intended to, Sophie. Truly, we did. But it’s just that—”

“You should have changed on the road.”

“We tried, Sophie. But the coach carrying our trunks got separated.”

“That was poor planning on your part.”

“And once we got here, we were ushered immediately inside.”

“For a meeting like this, you should have been more prepared.”

To Sisi’s astonishment, her mother fell silent at Sophie’s words of rebuke. Eventually, Sophie sighed.

“Fortunately they have their youth and their health to recommend them,” Sophie said, speaking of her nieces as if they were not present. “Let me guess, this is your eldest, Helene? I see the strong family resemblance. She is a beauty.”

“No, Sophie, that is my second girl, Sisi, I mean . . . Elisabeth,” Ludovika answered, stepping in front of Sisi and putting her arms on Helene’s shoulders. “
This
is our Helene. Our sweet, tender, obedient Helene, and our eldest daughter.”

“Oh?” Sophie turned from Sisi to Helene, pausing a moment to register her error. “Oh!
That
is Helene?” She said it as if she wished to be corrected. When Ludovika nodded, Sophie’s exhale was audible. A sigh of . . . what was it, disappointment?

“My word, I would not have guessed. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you girls.”

Sophie studied Helene now without modesty or shame, as she would inspect a horse she considered acquiring for the imperial stables. “But you seem . . . I don’t know . . . younger than the other one.”

Ludovika shifted on her feet, attempting a half-coherent reply that mentioned something about a dainty, feminine figure. Both Helene and Sisi had dropped their eyes so that they each appeared very preoccupied with the hemlines of their black dresses.

“What’s the age difference between the two of them?” Sophie asked.

“Elisabeth is but fifteen. Helene just turned eighteen, the perfect age for matrimony,” Ludovika answered.

“Indeed?” Sophie cocked her head, unconvinced. “She still has the figure of a girl. She doesn’t look eighteen.”

Ludovika shrugged, a polite smile clinging to her face. “Well, I can assure you, she is. I was there when it happened, after all.”

“And how old did you say the other one is?”

“Elisabeth will be sixteen in just a few months.”

“Ah! Still a child.” After a long pause, Sophie continued. “You’ve had a few more since these girls, right?”

“That’s right,” Ludovika answered. “They have a brother, Karl, who is heir to the duchy. And then four younger siblings—three girls and another boy—all of whom are at home with their father, the duke.”

“All of those girls to marry off,” Sophie sighed, still studying Helene through narrow eyes. “But of course, with the eldest one becoming a Habsburg, I doubt you’ll have a shortage of young men calling on the rest.”

Ludovika nodded. “You are correct, I’m sure.”

“Will she be fertile? She looks as thin as a maypole.”

Ludovika laughed, a short, nervous titter, and Sisi sensed her mother’s irritation. “Why, Sophie, I’ve never had a problem with fertility, and my daughters will not either.”

At that moment Sisi caught once more the eye of the auburn-haired soldier beside Sophie and, in spite of herself, felt herself smile at him. He smiled back, a secret communication that she hoped only she had noticed as she lowered her eyes again. Her cheeks, indeed her whole body, flushed warm.

“Let us hope. But I don’t like the black, Ludovika, it doesn’t suit her.” Sophie’s tone remained flat, unimpressed.

“As I tried to explain, Sophie, we have not yet had time to change from our mourning clothing.” Ludovika kept her lips close together as she replied. “I do hope we shall be able to locate our dresses quickly.”

Sophie nodded. “Step forward, my girl.” Sophie lifted a hand from her dog’s downy white fur, waving Helene closer. Helene obeyed. Sisi watched her sister approach, peeling her eyes from Helene only for a minute to glance once more at the young soldier. He still studied Sisi, and their eyes held one another’s for a moment too long before Sisi forced herself to look back to her sister.

“So tell me, niece, how was your journey?” Sophie awaited a reply, but her eyes were already roving over Helene’s figure, riffling through a hundred additional questions: Would she really be fertile? Would she be pleasing to her son? And certainly there was no need to worry about her maidenhead being intact when the girl was so small and meek? Helene wilted under the intensity of this visual inquisition.

“Well? I asked you a question: How was your journey, niece?”

Helene, gaze still tilting downward, made no reply. She gnawed at her lower lip, a nervous habit that Sisi would always remind her she
must
break before her formal introduction at the Viennese Court.

“Helene, your Aunt Sophie is asking you a question.” Ludovika nudged her elder daughter, but still no reply issued from the timid girl.

Sophie laughed at her niece’s reticence. “Nerves?”

“I suppose.” Ludovika smiled with her lips only. “Helene is such an intellectual girl. She astounds all of her tutors. Perhaps a bit serious—but then, the art of conversation can always be learned. And of course, your court here is much more imposing than our Bavarian duchy. She simply requires time to grow comfortable.”

“Ha, this is nothing! This is a small summer retreat. Just wait until we move back to Vienna.” Sophie sat, petting her little dog, her jeweled ring momentarily catching in the tangle of its fur. “I remember when I first arrived to court. I didn’t
allow
myself to show my nerves. Helene, you know I’m Bavarian originally? Like your mother?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Helene nodded and Sisi could have sung in relief. At least that minor communication had been transacted.

“Tell me, Helene, how do you find Austria compared to Bavaria?” When Helene did not answer yet another question, Sophie continued. “I, for one, should never like to return to that dark, cold land. Surely the beauty of our Alps and the open Austrian vistas were a welcome sight after the oppressive pines of your forests, nay?”