a blade.
The judge looked deeply unhappy. It occurred to Rathbone with a jolt that doubtless the Lord Chancellor had sent a word of warning to him, too.
“That was the condition,” Rolf said icily.
“And did you have hopes that he would meet it?” Rathbone pressed relentlessly.
Rolf was startled. It was obviously not the question he had expected. It took him an instant to collect his thoughts and reply.
“I had hoped that I would be able to prevail upon whatever sense of honor he had left, sir.” He did not look at Rathbone but at some point on the wooden paneling in the wall far above the lawyer’s head.
“Had he given you indication of that before you came to England, Count Lansdorff? Or was there some other circumstance or event which led you to believe that he had changed his mind since his original abdication?” Rathbone pursued.
Rolf still stood like a soldier on parade, but now one who heard the steps of the firing squad come to a halt.
“Sometimes one’s obsession with love subsides into something of better proportion with time,” he replied with intense dislike. “I had hoped that when Friedrich learned of his country’s need, he would set aside his personal feelings and follow the duty for which he was born and groomed, and whose privileges he was happy to accept for the first thirty years of his life.”
“It would be a great sacrifice …” Rathbone said tentatively.
Rolf glared at him. “All men make sacrifices for their country, sir! Does any Englishman whom you respect answer the call to arms by saying he would rather remain at home with his wife?” His voice almost choked it was so thick with disgust. “Damn the invader or the foreign army which would trample his land! Let someone else fight him. He would rather dance in Venice and float around in a gondola making love to some woman! Would you admire such a man, sir?”
“No, I would not,” Rathbone replied with a sudden sense of the shame which burned in the man in front of him. Friedrich was not only his prince but his sister’s son, his own blood. And Rathbone had forced him to this conclusion in front of a courtroom of ordinary people of the street—a foreign street at that. “Did you put this to him at Wellborough Hall, Count Lansdorff?”
“I did.”
“And his reply?”
“That if we needed him so profoundly in order to fight to retain our independence, then we should make the allowance and accept that woman as his wife.”
There was a wave of emotion around the room like the backwash of a tide.
For once Gisela too reacted. She winced as if she had been threatened with a blow to the face.
“And considering how much might ride on his return, were you willing to accept those terms?” Rathbone asked in the silence.
Rolf’s chin rose a fraction. “No sir, we were not.”
There was a sigh across the gallery.
“You say ’we,’ ” Rathbone said. “Who else do you mean, Count Lansdorff?”
“Those of us who believe the best future for our country lies in our continued independence and the laws and privileges which we presently enjoy,” Rolf answered. “Those who believe that the alliance with other German states, in particular Prussia or Austria, will be a step back into a darker and more repressive age.”
“And have they declined you as their leader?” Rathbone inquired.
Rolf looked at him as if he had spoken in an unintelligible language.
Rathbone moved a little across the floor, to command his attention again.
“Is your sister, Queen Ulrike, of that conviction, Count Lansdorff?”
“She is.”
“And your nephew, Crown Prince Waldo?”
Rolf’s face remained almost expressionless, only an increased rigidity in his shoulders betraying his feelings.
“He is not.”
“Naturally, or he would lead the party and Friedrich’s return would not be necessary. I understand the health of His Majesty the King gives cause for great concern?”
“The King is extremely ill. He is failing,” Rolf agreed.
Rathbone turned again, facing slightly the other way.
“Your motives for wishing Prince Friedrich’s return are very easily understandable, sir. Indeed, I imagine almost every man or woman here could sympathize with you and, given the same circumstances, would probably do as you have done. What is far harder to understand—in fact, for me it is impossible—is why your hatred of Princess Gisela ran so deeply as to make her abandonment a condition of Prince Friedrich’s return. It does not seem to make sense.”
He turned his head to glance momentarily at Gisela. “She is a charming and attractive woman, and has proved an excellent wife to Prince Friedrich—loyal, dignified, witty, one of the most successful hostesses in Europe. There has never been a word even whispered against her reputation in any sense. Why were you prepared to jeopardize your battle for independence simply to see that she did not return home with her husband?”
