Fitz did not want war, but there was a part of him that secretly relished the prospect. It would be his chance to prove his courage. His father had won distinction in naval actions, but Fitz had never seen combat. There were certain things one had to do before one could really call oneself a man, and fighting for king and country was among them.
They were approached by a messenger wearing court dress-velvet knee breeches and white silk stockings. “Good afternoon, Earl Fitzherbert,” he said. “Your guests have arrived and gone straight to the dining room, my lord.”
When he had gone Walter said: “Why do you make them dress like that?”
“Tradition,” said Fitz.
They drained their glasses and went inside. The corridor had a thick red carpet and walls with linenfold paneling. They walked to the Peers’ Dining Room. Maud and Aunt Herm were already seated.
This lunch had been Maud’s idea: Walter had never been inside the palace, she said. As Walter bowed, and Maud smiled warmly at him, a stray thought crossed Fitz’s mind: could there be a little tendresse between them? No, it was ridiculous. Maud might do anything, of course, but Walter was much too sensible to contemplate an Anglo-German marriage at this time of tension. Besides, they were like brother and sister.
As they sat down, Maud said: “I was at your baby clinic this morning, Fitz.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Is it my clinic?”
“You pay for it.”
“My recollection is that you told me there ought to be a clinic in the East End for mothers and children who had no man to support them, and I said indeed there should, and the next thing I knew the bills were coming to me.”
“You’re so generous.”
Fitz did not mind. A man in his position had to give to charity, and it was useful to have Maud do all the work. He did not broadcast the fact that most of the mothers were not married and never had been: he did not want his aunt the duchess to be offended.
“You’ll never guess who came in this morning,” Maud went on. “Williams, the housekeeper from Ty Gwyn.” Fitz went cold. Maud added cheerfully: “We were talking about her only last night!”
Fitz tried to keep a look of stony indifference on his face. Maud, like most women, was quite good at reading him. He did not want her to suspect the true depth of his involvement with Ethel: it was too embarrassing.
He knew Ethel was in London. She had found a house in Aldgate, and Fitz had instructed Solman to buy it in her name. Fitz feared the embarrassment of meeting Ethel on the street, but it was Maud who had run into her.
Why had she gone to the clinic? He hoped she was all right. “I trust she’s not ill,” he said, trying to make it sound no more than a courteous inquiry.
“Nothing serious,” Maud said.
Fitz knew that pregnant women suffered minor ailments. Bea had had a little bleeding and had been worried, but Professor Rathbone had said it often happened at about three months and usually meant nothing, though she should not overexert herself-not that there was much danger of Bea’s doing that.
Walter said: “I remember Williams-curly hair and a cheeky smile. Who is her husband?”
Maud answered: “A valet who visited Ty Gwyn with his master some months ago. His name is Teddy Williams.”
Fitz felt a slight flush. So she was calling her fictional husband Teddy! He wished Maud had not met her. He wanted to forget Ethel. But she would not go away. To conceal his embarrassment he made a show of looking around for a waiter.
He told himself not to be so sensitive. Ethel was a servant girl and he was an earl. Men of high rank had always taken their pleasures where they found them. This kind of thing had been going on for hundreds of years, probably thousands. It was foolish to get sentimental about it.
He changed the subject by repeating, for the benefit of the ladies, Walter’s news about the kaiser.
“I heard that, too,” said Maud. “Goodness, I hope the Austrians will listen,” she added fervently.
Fitz raised an eyebrow at her. “Why so passionate?”
“I don’t want you to be shot at!” she said. “And I don’t want Walter to be our enemy.” There was a catch in her voice. Women were so emotional.
Walter said: “Do you happen to know, Lady Maud, how the kaiser’s suggestion has been received by Asquith and Grey?”
Maud pulled herself together. “Grey says that in combination with his proposal of a four-power conference, it could prevent war.”
“Excellent!” said Walter. “That was what I was hoping for.” He was boyishly eager, and the look on his face reminded Fitz of their school days. Walter had looked like that when he won the Music Prize at Speech Day.
Aunt Herm said: “Did you see that that dreadful Madame Caillaux was found not guilty?”
Fitz was astonished. “Not guilty? But she shot the man! She went to a shop, bought a gun, loaded it, drove to the offices of Le Figaro, asked to see the editor, and shot him dead-how could she not be guilty?”
Aunt Herm replied: “She said: ‘These guns go off by themselves.’ Honestly!”
Maud laughed.
“The jury must have liked her,” said Fitz. He was annoyed with Maud for laughing. Capricious juries were a threat to orderly society. It did not do to take murder lightly. “How very French,” he said with disgust.
“I admire Madame Caillaux,” Maud said.
Fitz grunted disapprovingly. “How can you say that about a murderess?”
“I think more people should shoot newspaper editors,” Maud said gaily. “It might improve the press.”
Walter was still full of hope the next day, Thursday, when he went to see Robert.
The kaiser was hesitating on the brink, despite pressure from men such as Otto. The war minister, Erich von Falkenhayn, had demanded a declaration Zustand drohender Kriegsgefahr, a preliminary that would light the fuse for war-but the kaiser had refused, believing that a general conflict might be avoided if the Austrians would halt at Belgrade. And when the Russian tsar had ordered his army to mobilize, Wilhelm had sent a personal telegram begging him to reconsider.
The two monarchs were cousins. The kaiser’s mother and the tsar’s mother-in-law had been sisters, both daughters of Queen Victoria. The kaiser and the tsar communicated in English, and called each other “Nicky” and “Willy.” Tsar Nicholas had been touched by his cousin Willy’s cable, and had countermanded his mobilization order.
If they could both just stand firm, then the future might be bright for Walter and Maud and millions of other people who just wanted to live in peace.
The Austrian embassy was one of the more imposing houses in prestigious Belgrave Square. Walter was shown to Robert’s office. They always shared news. There was no reason not to: their two nations were close allies. “The kaiser seems determined to make his ‘halt at Belgrade’ plan work,” Walter said as he sat down. “Then all remaining issues can be worked out.”
Robert did not share his optimism. “It’s not going to succeed,” he said.
“But why should it not?”
“We’re not willing to halt at Belgrade.”
“For God’s sake!” said Walter. “Are you sure?”
“It will be discussed by ministers in Vienna tomorrow morning, but I’m afraid the result is a foregone conclusion. We can’t halt at Belgrade without reassurances from Russia.”
“Reassurances?” Walter said indignantly. “You have to stop fighting and then talk about the problems. You can’t demand assurances first!”
“I’m afraid we don’t see it that way,” Robert said stiffly.
“But we are your allies. How can you reject our peace plan?”
“Easily. Think about it. What can you do? If Russia mobilizes, you’re threatened, so you have to mobilize too.”
Walter was about to protest, but he saw that Robert was right. The Russian army, when mobilized, was too big
