It was all very exhausting, and he had soon found himself in desperate need of distraction and diversion. Then his eye bad fallen on the Princess von Hohenbachern one evening at a ball in the Hofburg. It was natural that he should notice her, for she was an outstandingly beautiful woman, even among a host of beautiful women, but beyond that, there was an air of lightheartedness and gaiety that captured his attention as she waltzed around the palace’s ballroom in the arms of one partner after another. She was enjoying herself, truly enjoying herself, purely and simply enjoying herself and nothing more. Her eyes never sought out those of some delegate or another at the other side of the room as so many other women’s did. She never seemed to pause and reflect on what had been said. Her partners were not noticeably attached to any particular delegation; sometimes they were French, sometimes Austrian, or German, or Russian or English. In fact, the only distinguishing characteristic among them was that they all danced extremely well and appeared to concentrate all their attention solely upon her.
After observing her closely for some time, Brett had begun to hope that the Princess von Hohenbachem was interested in nothing more than the pleasures to be found in the delightful give and take between an attractive man and an attractive woman who had the wit and sophistication to appreciate this repartee to the fullest. It was only when he had finally assured himself of this that he had asked Julie Zichy to introduce them, and he had been pleased to discover that the princess was as charming and delightful as he had hoped.
Brett had left the Hofburg, as dawn was breaking, in a very optimistic frame of mind, indeed. Not only had he discovered someone exquisitely beautiful who could enter into a flirtation in the spirit in which it was meant and who appeared to have no political connections or ambitions, but astoundingly enough, she had turned out to be a fellow countrywoman as well.
Having established all this, he now hastened to seek her out again at the earliest opportunity, and he smiled down at her with a good deal of satisfaction. “Then you are a most unusual lady indeed, for everyone in Vienna, even the lowliest chambermaid, appears to be utterly obsessed with politics.”
The princess wrinkled her dainty nose. “People talk of nothing else; I am quite
ennuyée
with it all. Surely now that Napoleon has been safely dispatched, we can get back to enjoying ourselves and forget the unpleasant events of the last decade. Do you not think so, my lord?”
Brett smiled into the enormous cornflower-blue eyes. “I certainly hope so.” His gaze traveled down to the parted lips, lingered for one delicious moment, then slid down the long slender column of her neck to the elegant white shoulders and back to the eyes, leaving no doubt in his partner’s mind that he, for one, was quite ready to take her suggestion. “As someone who helped to dispatch the man, I assure you, I am more than ready to enjoy the fruits of my labor.”
“Ah, then we must make sure that you have adequate companionship. Nothing is very enjoyable if one is alone.”
“Very true. And everything is more enjoyable when it is shared with a beautiful and charming woman.”
A shiver of anticipation ran down the princess’ spine. Ah, but the man was handsome with those high cheekbones, strong nose, and intensely blue eyes, eyes made to appear even more blue by the deeply tanned face. The way he looked at a woman made her feel utterly irresistible, made her feel as though he would do anything to win her. It had been a long time, a very long time, since the princess had flirted with such a man, and it made her feel ten years younger. Vienna was turning out to be better than she had dared hope. “A beautiful woman is nothing without a man to appreciate her,” she murmured throatily.
“My feelings precisely. I am glad we are in such agreement, Princess. But the beautiful woman in this case is always surrounded by crowds of admirers—too much distraction for the true connoisseur. A true connoisseur of feminine charm and beauty needs peace and quiet to appreciate it properly, something like a carriage ride in the Prater tomorrow afternoon, perhaps, where there is nothing to keep him from concentrating entirely on the object of his admiration.”
“Oh.” One white hand flew to her throat. The man was not only divinely handsome, he was masterful as well, enough to make any woman’s pulses beat faster, even a woman who had been the constant object of masculine attention and admiration from the moment of her come-out. “Oh yes. I shall look forward to it.”
“And so shall I.” A bow, the quick pressure of warm lips on the back or her hand, and he was gone, leaving her to look forward to the next day with breathless anticipation. Seated in a barouche next to the handsomest man in Vienna, who, being a cavalry officer was undoubtedly an excellent whip, she would be the envy of every female who saw her. It would serve to secure her reputation as one of the leading beauties of the Congress. No woman could have asked for anything more. The princess smiled happily to herself as she considered the delights that tomorrow offered.
Chapter Three
The princess rose earlier than usual the next morning and remained closeted with her maid for an inordinate amount of time, even for her. Orders were given that no one, not even her daughter, was allowed to interrupt her toilette as she prepared for the promised drive m the Prater.
Thus excused from her customary late morning chat with her mother, Helena hurriedly disposed of her habit after her ride and hastened to the library to take advantage of the extra free time. However, as she entered the cozy, book-lined room, a room she had come to look upon as her own private sanctuary, she was astounded to discover that it was already occupied. A tall dark-haired gentleman in a scarlet coat was there before her, perusing the shelves with a good deal of interest. His back was to her, and he was so intent upon examining the collection, her carefully chosen collection lovingly wrapped and carefully transported from the Schloss von Hohenbachern to Vienna, that he remained entirely oblivious of her presence as she entered the room.
It was not until she quickly exited and reentered, coughing politely, that he turned around. It was a simple enough movement, but executed with an athletic grace that struck a responsive chord in her memory—a memory of a horse and a rider who had moved as one, a certain morning in the Prater. A cavalry officer, her mother’s cavalry officer, was the superb horseman who had caught her attention that morning and enraptured her with his prowess.
“Oh!” Helena dropped the copy of
Wiener Zeitung
she was clutching.
The officer bent quickly to retrieve it and handed it back to her, all in one fluid movement accompanied by a devastatingly attractive smile.
“Bonjour, mademoiselle.”
Bright blue eyes swept over her, taking in every detail from head to toe with a look so intense that she was left feeling as though he had learned all there was to know about her in a single glance.
“Ou se trouve ta maitresse? J’attends la Princesse van Hohenbachern.”
Ta maitressel
Helena looked down at her plain lavender-striped morning dress, which was utterly devoid of ornamentation except for the simple flounce around the hem. He was entirely correct; she did look like a fashionable lady’s maid, she supposed. She glanced back at the major, who was looking at her expectantly. Her mother’s description was all too accurate. Not only was he devastatingly handsome, his French, the little that she had heard of it, was exquisitely pronounced. “But of course, sir, I shall go fetch her this instant.”
Helena could not help chuckling at his astonished expression upon being addressed in his native tongue. He recovered instantly, and executing a ruefully gallant bow, he apologized. “Ah, mademoiselle, forgive me. I had no idea you were British. Ordinarily it is only Frenchwomen who possess such a decided air of fashion.”
“Why, thank you, sir.” Helena curtsied with what she hoped was a properly maidlike and respectful air. “If you will excuse me now, sir, I shall get the princess.”
“Thank you. Such a lovely day should not be wasted, though we have been exceedingly fortunate in the weather thus far. It has been exceptionally fine, don’t you think?” He flashed her a singularly attractive smile that made her feel as though he actually cared what she herself thought about the weather in Vienna at that moment.
“Yes sir. I shall not be a minute, sir.” Helena hurried out of the library, but as she closed the door behind her, she leaned against it struggling to gather her wits about her. Small wonder that her mother had chosen this man to be her latest flirt; he had charm by the barrelful—a charm that extended even to maids.
Left alone, Brett went back to examining the shelves:
Letters from Albion to a Friend on the Continent, An Inquiry Into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, Advice to Young Ladies on the Improvement of the Mind. Them
there were titles by authors he recognized as German political theorists: Karl Freiherr von Stein’s
Nassauer Denkschrift
and Gentz’
Fragmente aus der neuesten Geshchichle dies poliaschen Gleichgewichts in Europa.
Brett let out a low whistle of surprise. These were not the books he would have expected to find lining the walls of a fashionable lady’s library, especially a lady who professed to a profound disinterest in politics. Could he have been entirely mistaken in his view of the Princess von Hohenbachem as a delightfully and totally frivolous individual?
Certainly her maid was a sprightly creature. There had been an alertness about her, a knowing twinkle in her large hazel eyes, and a countenance that wore an unusually thoughtful expression for a woman of her station. In Brett’s considerable experience, the maids usually resembled the mistresses; coquettish mistresses had coquettish maids while proper young ladies guarded their virtue and reputation with dragons of equally rigid propriety. Yet, the divinely lovely and coquettish princess was attended by someone who more nearly resembled a governess than a fashionable lady’s maid.
It was an intriguing consideration, most intriguing, but it was also trouble. Was the Princess von Hohenbachern another one of Vienna’s clever political ladies after all? Brett certainly hoped not, for he had been looking forward to giving himself up totally to lighthearted dalliance with a skilled coquette and indulging in the luxury of admiring a beautiful face without having to wonder what was going on in the mind behind it. Was he going to have to be on his guard with the Princess yon Hohenbachern as well as everyone else? Was she also someone whose every word he should be remembering so that he could later transcribe it into one of the
flying dispatches
that were sent almost weekly to Paris for Wellington’s perusal? Surely not. Surely his instincts about women, sharpened by years of experience, instincts which had never been wrong before, were not going to fail him now.
“Major.” The princess, looking exquisite in a carriage dress of deep blue Gros de Naples and matching bonnet that enhanced the blue of her eyes, appeared minutes after her maid had left.
Eyeing her appreciatively, Brett relaxed at least a little. No woman who presented such a picture of perfection, as though she had just stepped out of the pages of
La Belle Assemblée,
could have the time for anything but her toilette. Brett was well enough versed in the details of feminine dress to know that such a high degree of finish did not just happen. It took hours of preparation and attention to the smallest detail on the part of both mistress and maid. Once again, he wondered about the maid whose own costume and couture had been neat, but plain to the point of being nondescript. While such an unobtrusive appearance was highly desirable in a servant, it did strike him as odd that the personal attendant of someone as elegantly
a
la mode
as the princess would not at least have some interest in such things herself.
However, there was little time for conjecture in the captivating presence of the Princess von Hohenbachern. She exclaimed over the carriage he had managed to procure for the drive, vowing that the equipage was vastly superior to any of the other vehicles making their way along the Jagerzeile toward the entrance to the Prater. And certainly no one else drove as well as the major. “But then, there is no better whip than an Englishman, and no one who handles his cattle as well as a cavalry officer. I count myself fortunate indeed in my escort, Major.” The princess smiled up at Brett, allowing him to appreciate the full effect of the enchanting dimple in the comer of her mouth, and pressed against him just enough to make him aware of her voluptuous figure, yet not so much as to distract him from his driving. It was another glorious autumn day, and the princess was delighted to observe that the Prater was full of carriages, none of which carried as handsome a pair as the Princess von Hohenbachem and Major Lord Brett Stanford. “You have made me the envy of all the ladies present, sir. I am indeed fortunate.”
“That is most gracious of you, Princess, but I would venture to contradict you by asserting that it is the elegance of your person and your exquisite taste that inspire the envious glances cast in our direction, not my equipage.”
“You are too kind, my lord. Such a rustic as I cannot begin to compare with the rest of the fashionable crowd that has descended upon the city.”
“You, a rustic? I think not.”
“Oh, but it is quite true.” The princess sighed gently. “Since arriving in Europe I have spent my days immured in the country with only the servants for company. These dreadful wars have made it impossible to travel, and the prince has been off fighting for much of the time. He came to England directly after the Peace of Amiens was signed, and our courtship was a most whirlwind affair. We returned to the Continent soon after meeting one another, and no sooner had we returned than war broke out again. I have been a virtual widow since, living the quietest of lives in Hohenbachern and always in fear that I would wake up one morning to find the war on our very doorstep.”
She pressed one gloved hand to her brow and was silent for a moment while she allowed him to imagine the loneliness of her pathetic existence. Then, brightening, she flashed Brett a dazzling smile. “So you can well understand, my dear major, why I am so delighted to be alive and well and in Vienna as we celebrate the peace that has finally descended on our poor countries. You must forgive me if I appear rather giddy with the relief of it all, but the strain of these past years has been considerable. And now all I wish to do is wipe away unpleasant memories by enjoying myself to the fullest. I thank you sincerely for your efforts to help me do so. It is such a lovely day; let us make the most of it.”