The chancellor was clearly not pleased to have his feet held to this particular fire. He turned to the baroness and she hastened to reassure me. “A few letters, nothing more. The usual sort of thing one encounters when traveling. And even at home. A ruler is never universally popular.”
“What sort of letters?” Stoker asked.
She shrugged. “The odd complaint about a matter of policy. The occasional anarchist.”
Stoker and I exchanged glances. Our previous encounters with anarchists had been decidedly less than pleasurable. The baroness went on. “Those who wish to see the Alpenwald annexed to France. Those who wish to see her annexed to Germany. Those who want the princess to marry, those who want her to remain unwed. The sentiments are predictable.”
“But you suggested there were real dangers,” Stoker reminded her.
“I spoke out of turn,” she replied with a submissive look at the chancellor.
I turned to Stoker. “You see? Nothing to be concerned about. Just the usual madmen and fanatics.”
“Nothing to be concerned about.Veronica, have you entirely taken leave of your senses? Have all of you?” he demanded, looking from each of us to the others. “Your princess is missing. Have you not considered the possibility that one of these threats has at lastmaterialized? Have you not considered the possibility that she may have been abducted?”
The chancellor shifted in his chair. “Her Serene Highness left a note.”
“A note! I should like to see it,” I told him.
His gaze slid from mine. “It was destroyed. We cannot risk the story being made public that the princess is not at hand.”
“What did it say?” Stoker demanded.
The baroness sat forward, perhaps eager to make amends for raising the specter of violence in the first place. “That she was leaving on a personal matter and did not wish us to worry.”
“What does that indicate to you?” I inquired.
“That she meant to return before tonight when her presence is required,” she said promptly.
“Then why worry now? She may yet turn up,” Stoker pointed out.
“And if she does not?” the chancellor countered gruffly. I did not think it was possible for his posture to be any more erect, but he stiffened noticeably. “My dear fellow, my position in the Alpenwald is the pinnacle of all possible appointments. I did not achieve this by failing to anticipate every difficulty. We cannot risk the princess failing to appear tonight.” He turned to me, his tone gentle. In another man, I might have called it coaxing. “If the princess does not show herself in the royal box, she will gravely offend her hosts as well as the other dignitaries. Do you think the English will forgive such a slap in the eye? No, they will not! Help us,Fraulein.”
“Of course, Excellency.” I turned to Stoker. “You see what is at stake here. It must be done.”
“I do not like it,” he replied.
“I am rather afraid you have no choice,” the chancellor said, his moustaches almost concealing a triumphant smile. “Fraulein Speedwell has consented.”
“But I have not,” Stoker returned, baring his teeth. “And I have only to alert the authorities or the newspapers to the fact that the princess is being impersonated to bring the entire house of cards down around your ears.”
The chancellor’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “You would not dare!”
“Wouldn’t I?” Stoker crossed one leg lazily over the other and regarded the chancellor with the icy hauteur of four hundred years’ worth of English noble blood.
The chancellor drew a handkerchief out of his pocket and dropped it to the floor. “Then I challenge you to a duel as you are a man of honor!”
I looked at the baroness. “Is there any way to stop this nonsense?”
She gave me a helpless shrug. “The chancellor likes to duel. It is a very common sport in our country. Almost as popular as mountain climbing. It gives the people something to do when the peaks are too dangerous to climb.”
“What about the women?” I asked.
“Oh, the women duel as well,” she assured me. “We use wooden swords, but it is very exciting all the same.”
Stoker had picked up the handkerchief and risen to his feet, a slow smile of acceptance spreading over his features. Recognizing the look, I plucked the handkerchief from his grasp and returned it to the chancellor. “Mr. Templeton-Vane will not duel you.”
“I rather like the idea,” Stoker protested.
