An Unexpected Peril (Veronica Speedwell #6)(67)

“And the rest of the royal family?” Stoker pressed.

The chancellor shrugged. “The Prince of Wales is also away. At his country house, somewhere in the east,” he said, waving a vague hand.

“Sandringham House,” Stoker supplied. “In Norfolk.”

“Yes, that is it. I hear there is very fine shooting to be had,” the chancellor said in a wistful tone. “He gathered there for the holidays with his children and he also plays host to his sister the Empress Frederick and her daughters.”

“So there will be no member of the royal family at Windsor tonight?” Stoker said.

The chancellor’s complexion turned ruddy again. “You are thinking it is an insult to my princess? To the honor of the Alpenwalders that there is no member of your royal family to receive her?”

“Nothing could be further from the truth,” Stoker assured him. “I merely find the choice of venue curious if the family are not meant to attend.”

The chancellor shrugged again. “It was the request of the Empress Frederick. She wishes to make it clear that although none of the British royalties will sign the treaty, it meets with their approval. A gracious gesture,” he added.

“Indeed,” Stoker murmured.

The tight band around my chest eased. I breathed a little easier. “Do you know who will be in attendance?” I managed.

“A French delegation and assorted English representatives from within your government. From our side, naturally I will escort the princess and she will be attended by the baroness.”

“And by me.” Maximilian appeared in the doorway looking like a man whose conscience had kept him awake. His eyes were a trifle puffed and his moustaches drooped a little.

The chancellor looked pained. “As you are not yet formally affianced to Her Serene Highness—” he began.

“All the more reason to include him,” the baroness put in. “It will demonstrate to the French that the treaty has the support of the entire Alpenwalder aristocracy and not merely the princely family.”

Maximilian smiled at the baroness. “Just so.”

The chancellor huffed into his moustaches. “Very well. I will send word that there will be two additional members of our party,” he assured the duke, as casually as if he were bringing an extra guest to tea.

Stoker turned to me. “You cannot attend a formal dinner at the queen’s castle and pretend to be foreign royalty.” The baroness began to speak, but Stoker raised a hand. “I think Miss Speedwell and I will require a few minutes’ privacy to discuss the matter,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. The chancellor and baroness withdrew, Maximilian trailing after them. He closed the door behind him, but it would not have surprised me to find him spying through a keyhole.

I folded my arms over my chest and regarded Stoker.

“I managed it well enough last night,” I reminded him.

“Because no one was near you! You were surrounded by Alpenwalders and by me,” he pointed out. “You spoke to almost no one, and you had nothing to do but sit quietly and occasionally wave. A clockwork mannequin could have done as much.”

“Thank you,” I said, my tone acid. “It was actually a trifle more complicated than that.”

“Yes, I quite forgot. You also had to hold up a tiara. However did you manage it?”

“There is no call for sarcasm,” I said.

“What approach is called for?” he inquired. “Should I simply fling you over my shoulder and stalk out of here until you come to your senses?”

“Certainly not. Do not think I will play the Sabine,” I warned him. “I mean to do this. Besides, we needed a pretext to spend time with the Alpenwalders to investigate Alice’s relationship with Gisela. We could hardly do better.”

“Than a semi–state occasion in a royal residence?” His tone softened. “You have not considered the complications. Veronica, it is a formal dinner at Windsor Castle. It will be full of British dignitaries and officials, people who could easily unmask you for the imposter you would be.”

“I am not acquainted with any members of the government,” I protested.

“Just because they are not known to you does not mean you are not known to them!” He thrust his hands through his hair, disordering it violently. “Veronica, be reasonable. You simply cannot swan through the gates of Windsor Castle as if you have a right to be there.”

“Don’t I?” I asked softly.

I said nothing more, but I did not have to. He came forward and simply enfolded me in his arms. “I thought you wanted nothing from them.”

“I didn’t! At least until I met Eddy,” I corrected. Our latest foray into murder had seen us making the acquaintance of my half brother, Prince Albert Victor of Wales, Eddy to his intimates. I had found myself growing quite fond of the young man during our short time together. He was silly and frustrating to an impossible degree, but I could not deny the attraction of spending time with those of my own blood. Growing up without family, I had never really placed much importance upon the connections of genetics. I had consoled myself with those whom I met upon my travels whose tastes and values aligned with mine, with those who had proven themselves loyal and trustworthy out of true affection, not the obligations of blood.

Eddy had been different. We were nothing alike, my half brother and I, but I had been conscious of a deep pull to watch over him, a protectiveness I had seldom experienced before. And I wondered if it were unique to that young man or if I would feel the same towards others of my family, towards the home I had never known but to which I was tied by blood. For eight hundred years, my ancestors had lived and died in that castle. Would I feel any sort of recognition? Any variety of belonging? This was perhaps the best opportunity I would have to find out.