“I understand,” I said slowly. “But if you put out a statement saying your princess has fallen ill—”
His grip grew painful. “We have talked of this!” he said, his brows snapping together sharply. “The French would take it as a grave insult. They would believe that the Alpenwald does not negotiate in good faith. They would look at your German queen here in England and think that because we too have German ties, we have persuaded her to deal more generously with us. They would become suspicious, the French. They would refuse to sign the treaty because they would fear we strike deals behind their backs. They believe everyone is as cunning as they are,” he finished, his mouth tightening in disapproval.
Stoker stepped forward. “Even if Veronica does this for you, it will not be legal because the princess herself has not signed the treaty.”
“I have thought of that,” the chancellor replied happily. He dropped my hands and dove into another portfolio on the table. He drew out a lengthy piece of parchment also embellished with the Alpenwalder crest. “This document gives Miss Speedwell the authority to sign the treaty on behalf of the Alpenwalder delegation as a proxy of the princess. Naturally, it must remain secret,” he added, “but if there were ever a need, it would stand up in court. Miss Speedwell would be acting with all of the authority of the Alpenwalder government.”
I took the parchment and studied it, Stoker reading over my shoulder. “It seems legal enough,” I murmured. “Do you not think so?”
He shrugged. “What I do not know about international diplomatic law would fill the libraries at Oxford,” he said. He passed the page back to the chancellor. “The greater difficulty is not in Miss Speedwell performing this masquerade again. It is that this must end, sir. Surely you see that? She cannot continue the charade until you are ready to leave for home.”
“Can she not?” the chancellor asked, patting his lips. He stroked his moustaches into shape. “The signing of the treaty is tonight. Then there is only the opening of the exhibition at your club of lady explorers. After that, we return to our own country and Miss Speedwell is free to resume her own life.”
“And if Her Serene Highness is still missing?” Stoker demanded. “What then?”
The chancellor held up a hand. “There is no need to fear this,” he said. “Our princess has always come back to us. She will do so again.”
Silence held the room for a long moment.
“What must I do?” I asked at last.
The chancellor, realizing the battle had been won, did not revel in the moment, but his eyes gleamed in satisfaction. “There is a simple ceremony to sign the treaty. A representative of Her Majesty’s government to witness the affair, a French delegate, and yourself. These are the only three people who will be signatories to the document. It will be a very short meeting. The treaty itself has already been agreed and copies sent to each party. Everyone brings his own and each of the three will be signed and countersigned. Once the signatures have been placed, that is all.”
“That is not all!” the baroness put in sharply. “Have you forgot where the meeting is to take place?”
I turned to the chancellor, dread gripping my heart. “Excellency, where are you sending me this evening?”
“It is nothing, child,” he said, raising his hands in protest. “An entertainment, a party.”
“A formal dinner,” the baroness interjected.
“Excellency?” I asked, narrowing my gaze.
He looked from one of us to the other, then surrendered. “Very well. It is a formal dinner. At Windsor Castle.”
CHAPTER
19
I dared not look at Stoker; I dared not speak. With that perfect unspoken communication we sometimes shared, he intuited my disordered thoughts and gave voice to them.
“And who will be in attendance at this dinner?” he asked smoothly. “The queen? Members of the royal family?”
“Oh no,” the chancellor hastened to explain. “Her Majesty is at Osborne House, as is her custom this time of year, I am told.”
“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.