Iron Butterflies Read Free Page B

gaze, I found myself accepting it, reading what was written in formal script.

    “My grandmother—but why does this speak of her as a Countess of the Holy Roman Empire? This—”
    “Is the first step in establishing her as an equal in rank at court.”
    “Suitable to be an Elector's wife?” I hoped he caught the sarcasm in my voice. “Unfortunately it comes too late—”
    “The title descends to you, since you alone are her heir. The Elector obtained this three months ago, he was not aware she also was ill—or near death. He hoped—” Fenwick shrugged. “Time and fate have never favored him.”
    I refolded the parchment, recalling that other one in the casket—one took away, one gave. The title would not have meant anything to Lydia Wyllyses—an honorable name was more. Still she had asked this of me— the clearing of that name. What choice did I have anyway? The man was old, ill, and some could stretch it that I had a duty to him. His fortune—that meant nothing. But what might come from the parchment was another matter.
    Perhaps my face was more expressive than I wished, or perhaps the Colonel believed that any female was easily brought to the right point of view if a man insisted. For now he said briskly: “It will be necessary to make hast, Countess. The Elector cannot wait long. There is a ship waiting in Baltimore—it will sail in five days—”
    “Sir—! What you suggest is impossible!”
    “Madam,” he snapped, “it is not only possible, it must be, I have said—the Elector is near dying. That is the truth!”
    The force with which he spoke then underlined the urgency he apparently felt. Suddenly I was a little breathless, as one being whirled along by a natural force one could not hope to control. A matter of expediency. But five days—! For a moment I felt as helpless as any female who had no control over her own affairs. The Colonel bowed and now did move toward the door.

    “I shall speak with your man of business, Mr. Wes-ton. Arrangements for your comfort will be made.”
    Perversely I wanted to say I would have nothing to do with his “arrangements,” that I had no intention of sailing for Hesse-Dohna. Yet I also knew I had already committed myself to this wild adventure.

Chapter 2
    I went about the business of settling affairs temporarily at the manor, for, though I knew I was to sail for Europe and the unknown, yet I had no intention of remaining there once my duty to my grandmother's memory was paid in full. Letty demanded to go with me, but I had to point out to her that the difficulties of her traveling where she could not speak the language, where those of her race were not commonly known, were insurmountable. For I knew, through the forceful comments of Madam Manzell, the German governess at my late school, a vast gulf existed between classes in her native land. One of her favorite (and, to me, horror) tales had been of a Grand Duke who had calmly shot a peasant before the eyes of a visitor in order to prove that he did have arbitrary life and death powers over all his subjects.
    That I myself might be exposed to caste and rankproblems I also expected. My only barrier against such would be the parchment Colonel Fenwick had left in my hands. I had the first taste of what lay before me when, two days later, in the prim and stuffy front parlor of James Weston's home in Baltimore, I met the other two who were to be my traveling companions, the respectability of whom the Colonel had so assured me. The Grafin interested me the most, since I was supposed to share kinship with her. Madam Manzell's stories had made so much of the self-importance and arrogance of those associated with any court I did not look forward to our introduction with any warmth of feeling.
    The Graf wore the plain clothing of a gentleman. However, so ramrod stiff was his stance that one expected to hear the faint clink of a sword at every movement, a rattle of the spurs with which his civilian boots were not