“Hardly that yet,” Udo was fain to answer, laughing a little awkwardly under his father’s searching gaze.
“The Princess dislikes the idea of this projected marriage with Prince Ludwig. She is likely to be rebellious. You must not let her in any reckless spirit make a fool of you.”
The words carried more sting than the speaker intended. “It is you,” Udo returned sneeringly, “who have set your heart on this marriage. I cannot expect you, where affairs of state are involved, to care even for your son’s happiness.”
“You cannot expect me to foster your foolish hopes,” old Rollmar retorted.
“I have a rival provided and backed up by my father,” Udo declared hotly.
The Baron gave a shrug. “You talk nonsense.”
But the young man was not in a state of mind to see the weak point of his grievance. “It is unfortunate for you,” he continued viciously, “that this husband you have provided does not come to your bidding. Is it not time you produced him?”
The Baron smiled indulgently. Perhaps he could make allowances for a son to whom he had transmitted the whole of his malignity and but a modicum of his cleverness. “You will allow me to know best,” he said quietly, “how to conduct the affairs of this duchy. Prince Ludwig will be here soon enough, and were he not to come at all it would hardly open the door to your pretensions. Did I think there was a chance of it I should hardly overlook you in the matter.”
But the young man was still ruffled. “A chance! You seem to take care, my good father, that I shall not have a chance, with your ill-timed descent upon our meeting-place——”
“I looked to find any one but you, my dear Udo.”