Page 22 of The Heir
And on and on, all around the table, not once or twice, but three times. From Prince Esterházy down to Lord and Lady Cowper, to Lord and Lady Norreys, to Monsieur Van der Weyer and, at last, to tiny Aunt Sophia.
Because of her rank, Aunt Sophia would be seated at the foot of the table, although, Victoria felt sure, Mama would just as soon see her confined to her rooms with a bowl of bread and milk.
During her quizzes, Mama never asked who Princess Sophia was or what she might be doing at the table. Victoria sometimes wondered if that was a mistake.
Madame Dulcken finished the delicate concerto with an intricate, rising flourish. The audience, even those who had to be elbowed awake by their neighbors, returned enthusiastic applause and shouts of “Brava!”
“Brava!” agreed Victoria, and for once, Mama smiled approvingly. Mama was in a benevolent mood. The dinner had gone off without incident. Victoria had comported herself as expected and had correctly remembered every guest’s name and position. She had made small talk. She had not frowned when served her mutton and potatoes as the richer, more elaborate dishes were handed round to the others.
Victoria stood, which allowed the guests to stand. She approached the virtuosa and said her thanks.
“I do hope you shall be able to return to play for us soon,” Victoria told her.
“Indeed, Your Highness, it would be my honor and my pleasure.” Madame Dulcken curtsied again.
Now that Victoria had broken the silence, the other guests could circulate. Victoria moved away so Madame Dulcken might speak to them and receive her due. Prince Johann cornered her at once, which would surprise no one as the musician was young and pretty.
Mama steered Victoria to the edge of the room. Here they would stand while the guests approached them in decorous ones and twos to make their polite remarks and better inspect their princess.
Victoria had been dressed to Mama’s specifications in white silk and tulle. She had given up protesting that she should have at least some say in what she wore. If she ever tried to give directions to her dressers, Mama would simply overrule them. If she insisted on wearing some item Mama did not specifically select for her, the dress (or ribbon or pair of stockings) would then disappear from her wardrobe, never to be seen again.
Victoria imagined turning to her and saying,Where is Sir John? Do you think he has gone out to dig a secret grave? Or did he already pay someone to have that done?
Mama’s reaction would surely be unforgettable.
Unfortunately, so would the aftermath.
Victoria did not sigh at this thought. She did not show any expression at all. She stood as she had been taught to stand, her face a gentle, perfect mask, as Mama discreetly motioned her guests forward.
Victoria was perfectly aware she was meant to remain blind to the contradictions that filled her life. Here was one of the most glaring. Mama and Sir John would spend hours bemoaning her unfitness, her childishness, the madness that surely must simmer in her veins. At the same time, they paraded her before all manner of people to show how fit, how demure, how intelligent and engaging she was.
“Which am I?” she’d shouted at them. “Am I the shining hope of the nation or a feeble baby who cannot walk down stairs on her own? Which one?”
In return, she’d received blank stares.
But Mama was certainly not contemplating any such contradictions now. Her glittering eyes were focused on the guests. If they came forward to measure Victoria, they were each of them measured by Mama—for their taste, their wealth, their future usefulness, and their past behavior. Victoria wondered if any of them realized that.
Probably. We all know how this game is played.
Except me, of course. I am not to know that it is a game at all.
Lord and Lady Cowper approached, made their reverences, received their nod from Mama. With this, the key was turned, and Victoria the Princess was set into motion.
“Did you attend the opera much this season, Lady Cowper?” she inquired.
“Yes, indeed, ma’am. And we are very much looking forward to the opening of the new season. Grisi will be appearing. I believe Your Highness is also very fond of opera?”
“Yes, I am always delighted at the chance to hear Signora Grisi sing. I understand she will be performing Rossini’s opera seriaSemiramidefor her opening, will she not?”She wants to see if I can pronounce the Italian correctly, if I am attentive to the meaning of the opera.“I find her interpretation of the aria ‘Bel raggio lusinghier’ so wonderfully delicate.”
Lady Cowper proceeded to gush, lauding Victoria’s taste and education. There was no need to listen closely. She let herself focus on the room over Lady Cowper’s shoulder. There was one advantage to the position Mama had chosen, Victoria realized. She could see the doors. She would know the moment Lehzen returned.
Whereisshe? What has happened?
All around them, the guests continued performing as expected. Prince Liechtenstein busied himself with telling Lady Norreys about Austerlitz. Monsieur Van der Weyer made a bad job of hiding his contemptuous smile as Lady Norreys tried to pretend she had not heard this story fifteen times over. Aunt Sophia tottered through the gathering, greeting everyone whether she recognized them or not, her surprisingly deep voice cutting through the decorous chatter.
“Johann! You made it. Tell me, how many times are we to hear about Austerlitz tonight? Anne! You are looking surprisingly well. And your man is still with you. Well, well. What a surprise that is!”
Mama turned just a bit paler, even as she laughed at something Lord Cowper said. The Cowpers withdrew, to be replaced by Lady Norreys.
