Chapter 14 #2
“And this fellow here. Ignatius Florian. One cannot tell which one is the given name and which the surname. Who is this fellow anyhow? Call him hither.”
“I am afraid that is not possible, Highness.”
“Why ever not? Has the fellow died? Speak.”
Frau Benedikt hung her head. “He left service last year,” she whispered.
“Ah. And it occurred to no one to record that in here? And I see here that his salary is still handed out to him? Even though this Ignatius has long left service? I wonder who collects it for him?”
Frau Benedikt’s already pale face whitened a shade further.
“And who decides which personnel get hired?”
“It is entirely under the jurisdiction of the Obersthofmeister, Your Imperial Highness. I have little to do with it.”
“Now, that I cannot believe. Do you take any Sepp, Hans and Pepi who apply for a position in the palace? Are you aware that Von Hager has been sending his spies here to be hired as servants?”
A murmur went through the room.
“He is right,” one footman mumbled.
“What about recommendations? References?” He was relentless.
“These are indeed requirements for a job at the palace.” Frau Benedikt struggled to regain her composure.
“And here—” he clicked his tongue “—a total of seventy-two servants have been hired over a span of a month? How can that be?”
“The truth of the matter is that there is a dire need for servants now that we have three kings and twenty princes, dukes and other nobles residing within these walls. Each requires their own staff, their own team of cooks, cleaning staff, and personal attendants. The palace has only so many to spare. The kitchens are already short of staff, and we have received the order that some of the chambermaids must help out in the kitchen. Since it is a time of emergency, and the need for additional staff is high, we have had no choice but to hire anyone who applies.”
“Is that so?” The Archduke stared at her. Frau Benedikt squirmed.
He proceeded to go down the list of names, page after page.
“Give me the September log.”
A pageboy scuttled to hand him the book. He flipped it open and went through the lists.
Then he paused, and a small smile crossed his face. “Ahh, here she is. Finally. Hired September third. Confound it. Already two months ago? How can it be possible?”
Frau Benedikt stretched her neck to see what he was reading, but he held the book away from her.
He uttered a frustrated sigh. “Two months ago.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Under our very noses. And no one noticed. And who in the devil’s name issued those references?”
“If you could tell me who it is you mean, I can attempt to find the answers you seek, or even better, the Obersthofmeister”—”
“Keep him out of it. He reports directly to the Emperor, and shall we all agree that he is currently too busy a man to be troubled with such things?”
Suddenly, he had changed personality and he oozed suave charm. He snapped the book shut and handed it back to Frau Benedikt with a semi-bow.
“This was most instructive. I apologise for having inconvenienced you. Frau Benedikt, you said your name was?”
“Yes, Your Imperial Highness. If there is anything else I can do for you, you have but to say so.”
He crossed his arms and leaned against the ceramic oven. “Do I? There is, in fact, one thing you can do for me, if you are so kind.” He turned his brilliant, disarming smile on Frau Benedikt, leaving her a flustered bundle of blushes and stuttered words.
That was all Pippa could bear to see.
She slipped out of the room to avoid being detected by him, grabbed an apple and a piece of bread as she passed by the kitchen and hurriedly ate it in the courtyard.
The maids and footmen filed out of the door, talking animatedly among each other, then falling silent when they saw her.
Pippa tried to ignore the strange glances and stares and continued eating her apple.
It had been a wise decision to leave early, she told herself, wiping her hands on her apron. For Klemens had nearly caught her.
Henni came running. “Pippa. Quick. You must see Frau Benedikt in the office.”
Pippa’s stomach turned. “Frau Benedikt? What about the Archduke?”
“He left. But Pippa…” She opened her mouth, then shook her head. “Best talk to Frau Benedikt. Quickly. She is waiting for you; do not tarry.”
Frau Benedikt had returned to her usual self, strict, cold and terrifying.
One could never have imagined that only an hour earlier she had nearly been reduced to tears.
“There is a change of working schedule for you,” she announced crisply as if the interlude had never happened.
Again? She had just been reassigned to the Redoutensaal.
“You are to work in Archduke Leopold’s rooms from now on. His old chambermaids have been dismissed, and you are to take their place.”
Pippa looked at her in horror. She pointed at herself. “Me?”
“You.” She frowned heavily at her.
Pippa shook her head so that her locks flew. “No. I can’t do it. Please. Let me work in the kitchens or in the ballrooms! I’ll even sweep the attic and the cellar for free. But not the Archduke’s rooms.”
“He specifically asked for you.”
Pippa sucked in a sharp breath.
Of course he did.
He was looking for her earlier, going through the books to find her, to pick out any information he could on her.
“You must wash up before you go. I give you leave to use the tin tub in the scullery. And this.” She walked over to a cupboard, took out something and held it out.
A piece of lavender soap.
Pippa stared at it.
“Take it. Wash yourself thoroughly and put on a clean set of clothes.” She pointed to the pile on the table. “Leave the old pile here.”
She couldn’t do it.
She couldn’t see him every day, pretending not to know him. Pretending she was someone else.
Not when all she wanted was to run to him.
When she knew that that was the very last thing she could ever do.
She was hurting too much; she was missing him too much.
“I can’t do it,” Pippa whispered.
“Yes, you can.” Frau Benedikt’s voice was hard. “And you will. The Archduke has noticed you. That is a great privilege. Seize the opportunity with both hands. If you go about this wisely, you will not have to worry about a thing for the rest of your life.”
Pippa’s face fell as the meaning of her words sank in. “Is that truly your advice?”
Her hard eyes seemed to melt a fraction, and Pippa seemed to detect a hint of pity in them. “No. My true advice would be not to lose your heart over him. For that would be a veritable disaster.”
With a nod, she left the room.
Pippa stared at the piece of soap that smelled sweetly of lavender.
Too late, she thought with a sick lurch in her heart. For I have already done so.