Page 34 of A Touch of Charm (Miracles on Harley Street #3)

A few hours later, at Cloverdale House…

“G o on,” Thea whispered and nudged Andre toward the door of his treatment room.

“I don’t even know your older brother,” Andre protested.

“You know, they’re four of them.”

“You said two are here.”

“Yes, so go and speak with them. They’re expecting you.”

That’s what he feared. They’d expect him, the commoner who’d compromised their sister due to marry a Habsburg—one of his distant cousins no less—and now it was his judgment day.

“They’ll kill me.”

“No, they won’t. And I’ll stand right here.”

She was going to eavesdrop; there was no doubt in his mind. But he had to hold his own and defend a position he’d put himself into, while in actuality, it was the brothers he could relate to.

After all, he’d love to give Paul, his younger sister’s husband, what he deserved. Andre realized the situation was different. Paul had betrayed Anna. He would never do that to Thea.

“Alright, I’m going in.” Andre squared his shoulders, and Thea grabbed his collar.

“Just one kiss for good luck,” she said, pressing her lips against this.

Instantly, his body hardened, and his resolve solidified. He’d lay his life down for his princess, no questions asked. But he could use the good luck.

So, he kissed her back, pulled her closer, and deepened the kiss.

“Ahem!”

Stan cleared his throat.

Thea jumped away, pressing her hands over her mouth, but it was useless; her lips were swollen with desire. Andre would continue where they’d left off, but first, he needed her brother’s blessing.

“Our brother is waiting,” Stan said and inclined his head, signaling Andre to step in.

Wait, this was his treatment room, and yet another man stood in the center, just under the gas lamp.

“May I present Prince Alexander von Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen to you?” Stan started, and Andre put one hand behind his back and bowed. “This is Dr. Andre Fernando von Dürer.”

“The professor’s son from Florence?”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.” Andre couldn’t decide whether to stand en garde or ramrod. He felt that flight was the better response than fighting with two men his size.

“And you studied in Vienna?” Prince Alex pressed on.

“I completed my studies at the faculty of medicine and then continued with an apprenticeship in Delhi.”

“India?”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.”

Alex gave Stan a look, but Stan remained placid. He’d learned much in India. And yes, he wanted to teach their younger sister everything. Andre felt their pain, yet that was one aspect he couldn’t get himself to regret. And he was sure Thea would not.

“My brother tells me that you compromised our sister,” Alex said.

Well, Alex was undoubtedly the more direct one.

“I don’t have much to offer besides my heart, but I would like to—”

Alex didn’t let Andre finish. “Why is that, Dr. Fernando Von Dürer, that you have nothing to offer besides your heart? Aren’t you a Habsburg?”

Of course, his accent was as flawless in pronouncing the Italian as well as the German parts of Andre’s names.

Andre swallowed. He went right for the Achilles heel. “It’s because I was born out of wedlock.”

“Because your father is…”

“Dr. Johann von Dürer, of Vienna, and then of Florence. My mother is Sophie von Dürer, born de Lorraine.”

Alex looked at Stan, who responded with a shrug. “You didn’t know about this?”

Stan shook his head.

“Your mother’s a Lorraine?” Alex asked.

“And a granddaughter of the Grimaldis?” Stan asked.

“On my mother’s maternal side, yes.”

“He’s related to the Habsburgs and the Lorraines?” Stan said. “A relation of the House of Lorraine, the Grand Duchy of Tuscany.”

“Thea told me your family was scattered throughout Europe, but you didn’t say you’re related to some of the most royal and noble houses in Europe!” Stan said.

“Except that none of them ever acknowledged you?” Alex added.

“My parents had arranged their wedding, but I was born early. Bein Catholic, there was no way…”

“It couldn’t have been that early, and surely at least six months is enough time to plan a wedding to ensure that one’s child is not a bastard,” Alex said.

Andre bristled, fully knowing that Alex was right, but Thea was listening, and he wouldn’t let the shame of a mishap in timing sully his person. It was enough that he couldn’t redeem his line.

“My father was studying and deeply involved in the effort to advance medicine. He had my mother’s support—”

“But she was with child.”

“And she didn’t have to doubt his love and devotion, so she didn’t want to rush the wedding.”

“Hmpf!” Alex went, but that earned him a gentle punch in the side from Stan.

“Very well, so you wish to marry soon?”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.”

“What if I say no?”

“I’m afraid you might try to defy the laws of nature.”

“I hardly think unearthing gravitational forces—”

“But biology, perhaps,” Andre said. “The body doesn’t respond to exterior motives and works on its timeline, much like the heart finds its rightful place with the person we love.”

“You mean she might be…?” Alex’s eyes grew wide, and Stan combed both hands through his hair. “She just told us no… so this just happened?”

“If Father knew, he’d kill us for allowing this,” Stan said.

“You let it happen. She was under your watch!” Alex called out.

“While you were doing the same thing at some beach… where were you? Cornwall?” Stan squared his shoulders.

“How dare you speak to your big brother in such a fashion?” Alex faced Stan with his chest stretched out like a peacock.

“Big? You think you’re so grand, but I’m taller.”

Alex slapped his hand flat on Stan’s head. “There, flatten your curls, and you’re just as tall as I am.”

“Short.”

“I’m not short, but you seem rather short-sighted.”

Andre cleared his throat.

And then Thea stepped in. “You behave like two schoolboys while he’s standing here waiting for your blessing and approval. I don’t even know why I asked him for the formalities if this was what he’d be presented with.”

Stan and Alex gave her rueful smiles, and Andre suppressed a chuckle. It appeared the little sister had the big brothers under control.

“You’ll have to marry soon.” Stan nodded and crossed his arms.

“Before Father and Mother arrive for Christmas.”

“What did you say?” Thea blinked.

Were those tears welling in her eyes?

“Well, just in case. If you are…” Alex groaned and turned to Stan. “I can’t say it. She’ll always be the girl with the Affenschaukeln .”

Pigtail loops, truly? Thea?

Andre couldn’t imagine the slender princess with pigtails climbing trees outside Bran Castle, but perhaps that was the beauty of a future with her: she’d always surprise him.

Andre looked at her, and she beamed. “So, you say yes?” She clasped her hands over her heart and brought them to her cheeks. “Please say yes!”

Alex and Stan feigned severe looks, but Andre now knew that they’d accept him.

“First of all, you weren’t truly asking us; you were telling,” Alex said. “And second, Andre is a thousand times a better man than any of the Habsburgs we know—” Alex elbowed Stan lightly. “Present company excluded.”

“I’m not truly a Habsburg,” Andre smiled. In the Habsburg dynasty, the issue of legitimacy, especially concerning sons, was tied to the strict rules of succession and marriage.

“You have Habsburg blood; you’re a Habsburg. And that’s what I will tell Father,” Stan said. “I can’t remember the last time someone asked when I was born. The parents are the same; the rest is merely a detail on paper as far as I’m concerned.”

Andre could not be legitimized because doing so would disrupt the established order of succession and potentially lead to disputes over claims to titles and lands. Still, it didn’t matter if he didn’t threaten to lay a claim—except on Thea.

Then she turned to Andre and squealed. “We have a wedding to plan.”

*

“You need a ball!” Anna declared when Andre and Thea told her their brothers had given their blessings. “And a dress.”

“It’s too soon for a wedding dress; we don’t even have a license yet,” Thea protested, giving Andre an insecure look over her shoulder. “We can’t marry the Anglican way, we’re Catholic. There’s no special license for us.”

“Not a dress for the ceremony, for the ball! You, Thea, will come stay with me and I will introduce you to society properly.” Anna twisted on her crutches but then winced. “I don’t think I shall dance until my leg is fully healed and the baby is born, but that doesn’t mean I cannot throw the most lavish ball of the season.”

And just like that, Andre’s treatment room turned into a bridal-planning headquarters.

“I don’t know anybody here; whom shall we invite?” Thea asked.

“Everyone! We have a few cousins in town this season, extended relatives, my husband’s relations, some of whom are very well connected, and a few of my closest acquaintances. Give or take two or three hundred guests?”

Andre’s eyes widened, but he seemed to know to remain silent at his desk.

“And the doctors and nurses?” Thea asked.

“Naturally. I know Andre’s connections to the Earl and Countess of Langley, so they shall be on my list.”

Anna was in a whirlwind of planning. She took the pencil from Andre’s desk and sat across from him. “Paper!”

Andre handed her a blank sheet.

“Now, the decorations. What’s your favorite color?”

“Purple.”

“And flower?”

“Roses.”

“There are no purple roses in England. How about pink?”

“It’s not Mary’s ball you are hosting, is it?” Thea asked, and both women laughed heartily.

Andre rose and seemed ready to leave them to plan the event of the season when Anna grabbed his arm. “Brother, you need evening attire.”

I need reinforcememts to keep Thea and Mary safe among three hundred guests plus the staff. List won’t remain far off.

“I have evening attire. My friends were just married, and I have—”

“No. You need light drab colored kerseymere breeches and blue tailcoats with large flat gilt buttons and with or without black-velvet collars; that’s your choice. It’s our Viennese tradition.”

“Ehm…” Andre sent Thea a please-help-me look, but she merely giggled. “I don’t like black collars. What’s the matter with my cravat?” Not that he cared about the cravat considering Thea was going to be in a crowd with three hundred people and List would likely be there with who knew how many of his lackeys.

“Ah!” Anna rubbed her forehead. “He’s like Father, always more focused on practical clothing than the looks.”

“What’s wrong with how I look?” Andre crossed his arms and tilted his head. Thea eyed him top to bottom and seemed to rather like how he looked. She needs to stop looking at me like that…

“Turn around,” Anna said in a swirling motion. “There we have it, “She pointed at his bottom.

Thea tilted her head. She looked long and hard, but there wasn’t anything amiss with the shapely and muscular bottom of her fiancé.

“It’s lovely, sister, truly. In all these years that I’ve missed you, nobody has commented on the shape of my bottom quite as much as you. Especially in front of—”

“A princess?” Thea giggled.

Andre sighed.

“You are wearing clothes tailored for practicality, Andre. You look as if you were riding daily, taming wild horses, or cutting wood for the winter.”

“What does that even mean?” Andre grimaced.

Thea shrugged but blushed rather pleasingly.

“Just go to the tailor and have him measure you. If our mother sees you like this… you look like a wild stallion with all this muscle.”

Andre suppressed a grin and winked at Thea. She giggled again.

Thus, an hour later, Andre stepped into the tailor’s shop, the smell of rich fabrics and freshly pressed linens enveloping him. The quiet shuffle of the older tailor, Mr. Hollingsworth, filled the small room as he approached with purpose, tape measure in hand.

“Ah, Dr. Fernando,” Hollingsworth greeted, his voice warm and familiar. “A pleasure to see you. I’ve been hoping to repay you for your ingenious treatment of my hands.”

“I’m glad to have been of help.” Andre inclined his head.

“And you finally decided that I may repay you?” Mr. Hollingsworth rang a bell and Margaret from the store on Regent Street appeared. Oh how good of Mr. Hollingsworth to have hired her. She had the bandage on and walked with a crutch but sat down at a comfortable-looking chair, and had a sewing table near a brightly lit window.

“With evening wear.” Andre smiled.

“For a wedding?”

“A Viennese ball. For an engagement.”

“I see.” The older man turned his head down.

Then he slumped some more.

“Are you making me ask, or may I congratulate you now?”

“You may,” Andre smiled. “Thank you.”

The tailor waved off the formalities, his eyes twinkling with gratitude and excitement. “You saved me from a fate worse than poorly sewn seams. Now, let’s get you suited for the evening, shall we?”

Andre stood straight on a wooden stool a minute later, allowing the tailor to begin his work. The feel of the tape against his shoulders was familiar, and he welcomed the distraction. “I trust you’ll work to make me look less like a man taming wild horses?” Andre teased lightly. “I come with specific criteria from my sister and fiancée.” It was the first time he’d called Thea that and his chest filled with pride.

The older man chuckled. “If I had your build, Dr. Fernando, I wouldn’t hide any of it. But I understand the request and shall oblige. Leave it to me; you’ll be the best-dressed man at the ball. Indeed,” Hollingsworth replied with a wink. “But I must admit, I have a selfish motive. Dressing you well reflects splendidly on me.”

They laughed, the camaraderie easing the tension that had clung to Andre’s thoughts since the afternoon’s events. Here, he found peace among the bolts of fabric and the rhythmic snip of scissors. But he still wondered how he could best keep Thea safe among the bustling crowd at the ball.