Iron Butterflies

  I had gone only a very short distance when a second man emerged from under the trees. He wore a green livery jacket belted in, the belt supporting a long hunting knife, and he carried with the ease of one to whom the weapon was like another familiar limb, a shotgun. He touched the brim of his caplike headcovering, which was of leather, also bearing a crest set in the front, and spoke with an accent so pronounced I had trouble understanding him.

  “The gracious lady wishes?”

  Since he had planted himself in the middle of the drive, a barrier I could not avoid, nor proceed around without crowding him, I was forced to stop. That he would address me first at all, was, I knew, a breach of etiquette so marked that it could be deemed an insult. I had seen enough of the Gräfin’s servants to understand that his attitude now was well out of the ordinary.

  “You are?” My voice was peremptory enough to allow him to understand that I knew his manner was wrong.

  “I am Gluck, Gluck the forester, gracious lady.” He made no move to take himself out of my path. “May the gracious lady understand, this woodland has its dangers for those who do not know it—” He was finding words now, words in plenty. “It is not wise to walk without a guide or protection—”

  I did not know whether he was offering himself as both. Instead I was now sure of something else. There were guardians set here—sentries one might almost say—who would make sure that I would not stray from the Kesterhof. In a sense I had expected this—but to be so confronted was still something of a shock. I hoped that I did not show my reaction.

  His attitude was that of a man doing his duty. There was nothing now I could fault in his conduct or words. So I must put the best face on my own actions as I could, not let anyone know of my realization that I probably was a prisoner.

  “Thank you, Gluck.” I did not add to that, only inclined my head slightly and turned back toward the house. Nor did I have any desire to join the stranger under the tree. Doubtless he also would gladly keep an eye on me for the benefit of the master of Kesterhof, though it was my suspicion that the Gräfin perhaps had more to do with any such orders than the Gräf.

  But when I came again in sight of the garden the black-coated man had disappeared, while I had no more than set foot on the first of the steps leading up to the door of the Kesterhof when I heard sounds behind me heralding new arrivals. I faced around to see two coaches emerge from the wood-lined road. Unlike that in which I had been conveyed from Axelburg both of these were crested and the coachmen and footmen liveried, as if they were on a near-formal occasion.

  The door opened and Frau Werfel, accompanied by a ranking of the indoor staff, filed out in stiff order. I withdrew a little to one side. The Gräfin Luise was handed out of the foremost coach by one who had traveled with her—the Baron von Werthern.

  Her eyes lighted on me and she withdrew her hand from the arm of her companion and ran lightly up the steps, holding out both hands to me, her face expressing surprised delight.

  “Amelia!” We might have been the oldest and dearest of friends the way she drew me swiftly into a highly scented embrace. Never liking such an exuberant manner, I stiffened, but she appeared to take no notice of my action. Instead she continued:

  “The most wonderful news, my dear, you will not believe it! But it is the truth, the real truth! Come—we must talk—at once! There is so much to be done! Oh!” She released her hold on me and looked around in a rather surprised fashion, as if she had only this moment realized that we had an audience and that perhaps it would be better to contain whatever news had so excited her until we were more private.

  Again her hand came out, this time to catch my arm and draw me with her up the next two steps, as she swept by the assembled servants, not even giving Frau Werfel either a word of greeting or a nod.

  So we continued up the inner stair to the upper quarters of the house. Some of the excitement had faded from her face; instead she said no more, only looked as if she were thinking, planning something in detail. Hearing heavier steps behind, I glanced over my shoulder to see that we were being trailed by the Baron.

  It was he who pushed a little past us when we reached the second hall, and, with the familiarity of one who knew this house very well, he opened for us the door into the sitting room of the suite in which Frau Werfel had installed me.

  The Gräfin shed shawl and her gloves, pulled at the looped bow of her bonnet strings as she dropped upon the nearest chair. However, the Baron remained by the door, his eyes on her as if he awaited some clue as to further action which only she could give him. She looked to him now and nodded.

  Without taking any leave or, in fact, saying a word since his arrival, he slipped out, leaving us together. Once more the Gräfin was smiling.

  “Amelia—it is true! Even as we thought—it is the truth! How kind, how thoughtful he was—how just! What a pity that you did not have time to learn more of his kindness from his own lips! Oh, it is the truth, I assure you—there is no mistake in that!” Her words came in short blasts, as if she could hardly contain her high spirits. It would seem that some event she had longed for had at last come to pass.

  “What is true?” I asked bluntly.

  For a moment she again appeared startled, as if she could not understand some blatant stupidity on my part. Then she laughed again.

  “Poor child, but of course you would have no way of knowing—he did not tell you that, did he? The truth is that His Highness did indeed make provision for you. It is in his will—Konrad has actually seen it so written—” She nodded violently. “Oh, I cannot tell you how—but His Highness held Konrad in very high esteem, he meant that he should know at once—for your protection. His Highness knew that half of them would be down on you like wolves about one lamb when he was no longer here to protect you. He knew that so well that he made very good arrangements.

  “How I would like to see the holy Abbess’s face when she learns about the will. For all her claims of other-world interests she will not take kindly to this. First His Highness does not allow her to pray him into the grave, and then he leaves this to torment her afterward—”

  “Gräfin—Luise—” I could make so little of what she was saying that now I interrupted with a demand for enlightenment. “Please tell me—just what has happened.”

  She put her head on one side a little and looked at me with a coy smirk which I found at that moment highly irritating. Then she actually raised her hand and shook her finger at me as if she were the governess in some schoolroom and I was a very young, unruly charge.

  “How naughty of you, Amelia, to go on secret errands in the night and say nothing to me. However, I can understand the reason.” She lost her unseemly air of playfulness then, and quite a different expression, foreign to her plump face, showed for just a moment. One I did not like in the least, though it was gone before I could read its meaning. “You will not have to worry about interference from that quarter ever again, my dear. What has happened is what is important. His Highness, in his will, has left the whole of the treasure which was of his own collection to you! Think of it, Amelia—one of the most wonderful of all the collections in Europe—and yours—also he names you granddaughter and gives very firm safeguards for you—the very firmest! You need not hide away here— By the end of this week all the court will know who you are and that you must be received with honor—the highest.”

  That she had discovered my night visit to the Elector’s bedside was the first fact I sorted out of her river of words. The treasure—I thought of what we had seen on that one visit. That had no reality for me. But that my grandfather had acknowledged that he accepted me and made plain to everyone that it was a relationship to be honored—yes! That was what I had come for. For this moment I echoed the Gräfin’s wish—that I had had a chance to know him better.

  “But you did see him.” The Gräfin had one of those quick flashes of insight which always surprised me. I wondered how she could catch my thoughts from time to time in that fashion.

&
nbsp; “And—see—what I have brought you—these are yours—”

  From the skirt pocket of her traveling dress she drew out a packet tied around with a bit of red cord, a roll so small it was hardly as thick as one of my fingers. I took it and smoothed the few sheets which made it. I was holding those painfully written words which my grandfather had set down as his welcome and only words with me.

  Chapter 10

  Four sheets over which that painfully made scrawl wandered—I looked at them once more. Four sheets—but here was a fifth! I had spread them fanwise in my hand and now that extra one lay to the fore. Across it ran the same wavering letters as made up those others. Only this I had not seen before. Something my grandfather had written after I had been hurried out of his sight?

  “Must be safe—marry—arranged—he will make you safe—”

  Then came a last single word which was in so mutilated as scrawl that I could not be sure of what it was meant to be.

  “You see!” The Gräfin’s voice was one of complete triumph. “You hold there his wishes—that you marry with Konrad, who will see you safe. Konrad is very close to the new Elector, he has visited him many times this past year. His Highness knew that, knew that he could count on Konrad to see that you were safe, that all which he wanted for you would be safe—”

  “No!” My rejection of such an action was instant and loud. I went to the nearest table and laid out those creased slips of paper on its surface, looking carefully from one to another. My grandfather’s writing had been of a necessity distorted by his illness, by the circumstances under which those messages had been written. And that last one had not been done under my own eyes as had the others.

  “Amelia.” The Gräfin had arisen hurriedly and now faced me across the table. “What doubt can you have that this is a good and right thing? You will have enemies, many enemies when the will is made public and it is known that the treasure is yours. His Highness knew this, he had planned for long that you should have a husband to stand between you and those who would drag you down.” She leaned closer across the table, her eyes so fiercely on mine that she somehow compelled me to meet her gaze, and held me so fast.

  “Do not doubt that you could be in deep trouble were it not you do have such friends as Konrad, yes, and as us! The Abbess, she is as spiteful as her mother, and has her party. There are others, too, greedy for power. Your claim will be questioned at once. Do you think that you, a stranger, a woman, of birth deemed doubtful—that you can face them?”

  She laughed then and there was a malicious edge to her laughter.

  “Poor Amelia, here the Elector’s will is law. Do you even think that our new ruler would respect your rights had you not someone of power to speak for you? His Highness knew this well. Even before he sent for you this marriage was arranged; Konrad was made aware of what part he was to play. Was I not instructed to see that you had knowledge of him, know him? I had my orders—to keep you safe, to make sure that you had protection after His Highness’s death, to see that the marriage—”

  Her gaze had been so compelling, her voice so assured that I felt for a moment or two like a helpless bird under the paw of a hunting cat. Now the absurdity of what she babbled struck me. Did she really think I was so simple, so easily influenced that I would meekly agree to so preposterous a plan?

  “There will be no marriage—” I interrupted her, raising my voice loud enough to cut through her flurry of words. “I have not the slightest idea of such a thing.”

  Her hand shot out and her fingers closed in a grip about my wrist that held more the strength of steel than the touch of flesh and bones.

  “You will obey His Highness’s wishes—why else were you here?”

  I did not try to throw off that clutch. Instead I answered her steadily: “I came here for one reason only, Gräfin, because my grandmother wished for recognition, to have it made plain she was a lawful wife—as she was by the laws of my own country—”

  “Your own country?” She flared back and there was no amiability now in her round face. “You are of the Family, of Hesse-Dohna, subject to the wishes of His Highness—”

  I shook my head. “I am subject to no wishes but my own. What I came here for was not to be a part of any scheme set by others but for the one reason I have told you. As for the treasure—let it go to the Abbess, or the new Elector, if it will make either of them happy. I shall be glad to sign any deed of gift if such is necessary—”

  She tugged at my wrist with a sharp jerk which, coming so suddenly, near pulled me off balance.

  “You must obey his last wish—” With her other hand she stabbed down at that last bit of paper. “Have you not read it, foolish girl? Do you think that any of the court will believe such stupidity as you just voiced? They can do things. You have no rights here, understand? There is only the new Elector’s wishes— And he is a man easily influenced—always by the last to gain his ear, so he blows this way and that from one day to another. Only if you have someone with strength and resolution to stand by you will you be out of danger.

  “Konrad has been preparing for this day. He knew what he must do when His Highness sent him the necessary word. Why do you suppose he came here now? Because there is no time to be lost. You must be safe, guarded, before the news is made public. Konrad has strong influences, he has many friends. No one can reach you when he stands on guard—”

  On guard. The phrase stuck out of all her nonsense sharply. Guard—the Colonel! Was he a party to this wild scheme of my grandfather’s—had he brought me to Hesse-Dohna knowing that I was to be married against my own will to a stranger I had disliked from the moment I saw him? Royal marriages were often made so—those most concerned in them sometimes not even seeing the prospective bride or groom until just before the ceremony. But I was not royal and neither was I going to be a party in such an affair. The Colonel—I could not believe that he knew of this. Yet I had wit enough now not to mention his name before the Gräfin, knowing her antipathy to the man.

  “You have under your hand His Highness’s last order to you.” She again indicated the note. “It is for you to obey now.”

  Anger was rising in me. To burst in upon my life with what seemed to me an utterly outrageous plan for my future was beyond all one had to bear. Exerting my strength, I twisted free of her hold on my wrist, which she had somewhat relaxed, gathered the messages from the table, that last and most questionable one on top.

  “We need discuss this no farther, Gräfin.” Summoning all my power of composure, I again faced her squarely. “There is no need for argument. My existence will mean nothing to the new Elector—unless I claim what you say my grandfather left me. Thus he will have no reason to try to force me to anything. I need only let him know that I withdraw all claims I may have, either on family recognition, or upon any bequest left to me, and return quietly to my own land. It is a very simple and easy solution after all.”

  “Fool!” Now her face was contorted, truly ugly. “Why I cannot make you understand? This is your country—you are subject to its ruler. You are in a position to make trouble for him. Do you think that he would let you get beyond the boundaries—away where you might stir up trouble?”

  “I would give my word—sign any agreement he required of me—”

  “Faugh!” Almost she spat that word in my face. “Words given can be easily broken, agreements repudiated when one is beyond reach—”

  Now my anger did flash out, “My word is not the kind to be broken! Nor would any agreement I made go unhonored. I do not marry a man I do not know in a foreign country at the whim of a dead man, who, until his dying hour, had no ties with me by his own will. This is utter madness, Gräfin. Can you not see that for yourself?”

  Her face was flushed, her plump hands doubled into fists now. That she was completely sure of herself I had to accept. What impression had I given that she could believe I would fall in easily with her wild suggestion? Still there was this, she had been bred up at court, under the complete domin
ation of the custom which made every whim of a ruler an unbreakable order. Perhaps she could not even accept that anyone would be free of the fears and domination such a life would instill in those who had accepted it as the proper way of life.

  Now she made a visible effort at control.

  “Countess.” She used my makeshift title formally. “I will leave you to think seriously of what I have said. Once more I must make it plain that you are vulnerable to whatever His Highness, the new Elector, may choose to do with you. The consequences of obstinacy are never pleasant—they can be dangerous.”

  In quite a different mood from the exuberance she had shown when she had arrived in the room, she now swept out of it, determined, I believed, to allow me time to think upon the error of my ways.

  Think I did. It was true, I must face that fact, that in this country the ruler’s word was law. The new Elector could well resent the fact that his kinsman had dared to leave the treasure to a strange young female, one moreover whose very existence threatened to bring to light an old scandal. That he would be ably seconded by the Princess Adelaide was a conclusion I must also accept. I was in a land foreign to me, one in which I might have no rights at all, and there was no one to whom I might appeal for assistance. Unless—the Colonel—

  However, if he had also been a party to this marriage scheme, aware from the first that I was to be summarily disposed of to a man of my grandfather’s choice, then he would not be any help either. I could see that there was danger here, I did not need the Gräfin’s warnings to understand that. Also she certainly would not have brought me those scrawled bits of paper had not in some manner they passed out of the Colonel’s hands into those whom I might well consider my enemies.