by Sue London
"I thought you were Gina Appleton."
She waved a hand at him. "Yes, well, there is what we think and what is true."
It was clear that here in her own home, Gina, or Georgiana, felt she could be herself without censure. She was outrageous in a most entertaining way. "If he has already married you, how is he to marry someone else?"
"I suppose," she said, making a slicing motion across her throat with a finger and a sputtering sound. She turned her attention back to the siblings. "Oh yes," she said, "here we are. The guilt portion of the argument begins. If she can marry the man their father chose for her, then certainly he can think of their family first, of Poland first."
Hans felt everything inside of him still, like water suddenly freezing. "Beg pardon?"
"It's just Poland, squawk, squawk, Poland."
"She's married."
"Not yet. It has been delayed years at this point, but their mother set the date for New Year’s. New year, new beginning sounded auspicious, I assume."
Hans stood too quickly and felt the blood trying to rush and catch up with him. "If you'll excuse me, I need some air."
He didn't hear her if she made a response. He charged through the house, desperately looking for a door to the outside. He ended up on a portico outside the study, leaning on the balustrade and taking deep breaths of the chilly, moist air. Krystyna was engaged to be married and had never mentioned it. He was sure that at any moment his rage would overshadow his shock and he would shout at the heavens. Or perhaps his grief would take the forefront, and he would sink to his knees on the stones. Neither occurred and long minutes later he was still standing, for all outer appearances impassive, as his breathing had evened out in the cool air. He heard footsteps behind him. Krsytyna's footsteps. He knew them now.
He turned to face her, arms crossed over his chest. Her face was tear streaked and he heard another stream of Polish from her. He shrugged. "I can't understand you."
She bit her lip and started again, in German. "I demand you take me home. I will not spend another moment in the house of this traitor."
He uncrossed his arms and braced himself as he leaned back on the balustrade. "Sorry, I'm afraid I can't do that. I have things to discuss with your brother. And I don't want to travel, with it being only a week until Christmas."
"Please?" she asked, more plaintive now.
"Perhaps your fiancé will come for you."
"How did you--"
"How did I know? Since you didn't tell me? The truth will always out, you know. I count on it."
"I can't stay here," she said in a deathly calm whisper.
"It's hard to say that surprises me, as you don't seem to treat your family any better than you did me."
"My family? How can you say that? I am the one who has stayed loyal to what the family needs. I am the one who is willing to sacrifice everything in service to our cause. He is the one who is ruining everything. And now he's married that woman--"
Hans straightened away from the railing. "That woman happens to be a perfectly delightful friend of mine, so be careful what you say about her in front of me." It was perhaps stretching the truth a bit, but he had enjoyed her company in Vienna and Krystyna's objections to her seemed insubstantial.
She looked at the ground and frowned. "I see." Whatever hysteria had possessed her seemed to have passed, and when she raised her eyes again she was the remote lady he had first met. "Thank you for your escort to London, Herr Von Rosen. If I can ever repay your kindness, you have only to ask." The queen again, offering a boon to her knight.
"Show me the kindness of never speaking to me again," he said, brushing past her. This time he was able to find the front door and descended to their waiting carriage. He tossed her bag to the walk in front of Casimir's house and asked the driver to take him to the nearest inn. Preferably one with a public room.
Chapter Twelve
Krystyna wasn't sure how long she stood on the portico, staring at nothing. For days she had teased Hans about being cold so that he would warm her. But now she truly was cold. Cold to the core. Colder still, knowing that he would never warm her again. What frayed ribbons of her heart that remained quaked and yearned to be repaired. But her heart would never be whole again. He had left with more than half of it, and she only had a cold pit where it had once resided.
"Where is Von Rosen?" Her brother's voice, but he sounded very far away.
"I don't know," she said.
"He just deposits you here and leaves?"
"He said he needed to talk to you."
"Of course he needs to talk to me. What sort of man escorts my sister on a week-long trip alone?"
"Erich was with us most of the way."
"Who the bloody hell is Erich?"
"Hans' man. He drove the coach."
"It's Hans now, is it?"
That drew her attention. "Yes, it's Hans. When did you become so autocratic?"
"Apparently when my sister decided to travel half the continent with a man she didn't know. How is it supposed to make me feel better that Erich was there? Why didn't Hans bring a maid as your chaperone?"
"I wanted to travel quickly, so we kept our party small and traveled under guise of man and wife."
"Krystyna! What were you even thinking? Did you stay alone with him?"
She didn't answer, merely glowered at him.
"When I get my hands on him he'll be lucky to live long enough to be leg shackled."
"Hans was a perfect gentleman. He does not wish to marry me and I am already engaged."
"Yes, to the esteemed Gregor Eichen, who makes me look a giant. How will you explain to him when you birth a blond son that will outgrow him by five years old?"
"As I said," she responded tightly, "Hans was a perfect gentleman."
"Then where is he?"
She turned her attention back to the middle distance of the alleyway. For the rest of her life she would ask herself where Hans was, and the only answer she would know was that he was nowhere nearby, and that his absence chilled her. She wrapped her arms around herself.
Her brother made a frustrated noise and left the portico. Some time later his wife came out with a shawl and guided her inside.
Krystyna pulled away. "You don't need to be nice to me, I know I've been horrid."
"It might be easier to push you off into the shrubs to freeze to death, but think of all the explaining I would have to do."
Krystyna looked at her sister-in-law, really looked at her for the first time. Features that would have been elegant if not for the devilish grin. Pale, almost wan in appearance. With little effort the girl could be an icy beauty. Instead, she had her hair in a haphazard bun and a penchant for sly humor.
"I think I've ruined everything," Krystyna admitted quietly.
"Of course not! Well, probably not. I know that you want Casimir to change his mind, but he will do what he thinks is right. Your mistake is in assuming that it's easy for him."
Krystyna looked at her sister-in-law for some minutes before saying, "Doing what is right is rarely easy."
Chapter Thirteen
Hans awoke to a steady tapping sound. Gods, was it those infernal clocks again? He didn't remember falling asleep in the downstairs study. Blinking in the dim light he tried to remember where he was. Grimy windows. Not the study. Not even Prussia. The sour smell, the rough sheets. The blasted London inn. The tapping sound stopped.
"Awake, then?"
Hans blinked to bring Casimir Rokiczana into focus, sitting in a straight-backed chair near the bed. The man looked terribly out of place here, from the sheen on his violet superfine coat down to the tips of his highly polished boots. Boots that appeared to be the source of the tapping sound as the young Polishman began jiggling his leg again.
"It took me near a week to find you. Not true. It took me near a week to not find you, and then I called in a favor."
Hans rolled over onto his back, aching in every muscle as though he had gone a round with a bear. "
Why did you need an hour in Vienna?"
The tapping stopped again. "Really? No 'How have you been keeping yourself, Casimir?' No 'Why did you need to track me down?' Not even, 'I'm terribly sorry I compromised your sister'?"
"Is that what she said?" He sat up and snagged the bottle of rye off the table next to him. "You're the one who told her to seek help from Henry. Perhaps you wanted her compromised."
Casimir actually sputtered. "Seek help from Henry? Heavens no, I didn't tell her to seek help from Henry! Is that what she told you?"
As Hans was tilting the rye to pour into the dirty glass he'd been using, Casimir moved. One moment Hans was holding a bottle of rye whiskey and the next he wasn't. He almost dropped the glass in surprise.
"I wouldn't send my dog to get help from Henry," Casimir said from near the window, where he set the bottle down on the sill. "Well, if I had a dog. Or a cat, even. Fairly much any living thing. I love him, don't get me wrong, but responsibility is not his strong suit."
"We can agree on that."
"How is Henry?"
Hans shrugged. "His last letter was six months ago and he was in Italy. If you need a primer on Italian women, I can forward it to you when I return home."
Casimir grinned. "I doubt my wife would take kindly to me reading a primer on Italian women."
Hans quietly tapped his fingers on the side of the glass he was holding. His hangover was stupendous. "How have you been keeping yourself, Casimir?"
"Calculating how to get rid of me? It won't work, I assure you. Once I can discern which of these rags are your clothes and which are just bedding, we will be packing you up to return home. I would ask them to send up bathwater, but at this inn I fear what we might receive."
"You tracked me down to ensure I returned to Prussia?"
"Let me be clear, we will be returning to my home where you will get down on your knees and beg my sister to accept you as her husband."
Hans set the glass down and peered keenly at Casimir. "What about her fiancé?"
"I am the head of the family now. I do not have to honor promises made by my father before I was even born."
"She was pledged as a baby?"
Casimir nodded. "As soon as they realized their first born was a girl, they looked for an advantageous match. When the agreement was struck it was for the Eichen's next-born son."
Hans leaned down and put his head in hands. "God's blood. How is it possible that she isn't married yet?"
"His youth. My father's death. And for the last two years, my delaying as I investigated how to avoid any legal issues from breaking the engagement."
"Is that what Krystyna wants?"
"If you were to ask her, she would say no. But--" Casimir tilted his head to the side. "I have things to tell you. When is the last time you ate?"
Hans shrugged. He honestly didn't know.
"Gather your things. We will make do with the water closet at my office for making you presentable, and that will be a more reasonable place for us to talk, as well. I can send someone for refreshments."
Hans wasn’t sure what direction Casimir’s mercurial thoughts were taking. What he did know was that any carriage ride was likely to pitch his already tender stomach further with every tiny jolt of the wheels. Refreshments were likely to be his last request by the time they arrived.
Chapter Fourteen
Krystyna spent the week accompanying her sister-in-law, who insisted on being called George by everyone other than Casimir, on social calls. George loaned her dresses and educated her on the social graces of polite society in London. As Krystyna still didn't understand the language, she mostly smiled and nodded encouragingly if anyone smiled at her. Meanwhile, her mind wrestled with the arguments that she and Casimir still hadn't resolved.
In some ways, she had to admit that her sweet, playful little brother had grown up. He was intractable to the point of stubborn on the opinion that she should marry Hans as 'the man had compromised her'. He hadn't compromised her! He was honorable and kind. Something she had to stop thinking on if her heart were ever to mend.
She was even more surprised to learn how diligently Casimir had been working to break the engagement with the Eichens. He said the letter he had written to mama suggesting the engagement could now be broken must have prompted her to contact them herself and arrange a date. He brushed off Krystyna's anger at not being contacted directly, saying that he knew she had no love for Gregor Eichen.
She wasn't sure she had ever been this mad at Casimir before. Not when he had muddied her best dress, not even when he had broken her favorite doll. But his assumption, his arrogance, that she should bow to his change in their father's plans? It was infuriating. And when his reasons, his logic, hadn't swayed her, he had withdrawn to the one statement she couldn't argue with. "If you truly believe everything our father told us about our family, then you cannot disobey me."
* * *
Casimir had always liked Hans Von Rosen well enough. At least until the day that Krystyna had arrived in London. When Casimir rushed into the drawing room, Krystyna had instinctively backed up a step into Hans. The Prussian hadn't moved to put more space between them. A telling little exchange, bespeaking intimacy. Seeing Hans in his current sorry state only confirmed Casimir's belief that much more had happened on the journey from the Continent than Krystyna had been willing to admit.
It had been a bit of a surprise, really, the rush of protectiveness that had come over him when he saw the two of them together. Krystyna had always been a force of her own. She had taught him at least half of what he knew about horses, fisticuffs, and getting away with highway robbery. Even while trying to disentangle her from the Eichen engagement, it had been half a desire to keep her from marrying a man she disliked, and half an intellectual exercise in outfoxing a damned greedy family. It had never occurred to him that she might need his protection. And based on her reaction now, it was very clear that she didn't want it.
But she did want Hans' protection. She betrayed it with every look, every response, when the man was mentioned. She missed him every bit as much as Hans appeared to miss her. At least, he had to assume that was the pain Hans was drowning in cheap whiskey.
After a brisk, chilly walk they arrived at Casimir's office. He paid one of the local boys to fetch them a hot meal and showed Hans inside.
Looking around, the Prussian said, "You've done well for yourself."
"The earl never does anything by halves."
"Earl?"
"Yes. The investment firm is a partnership of the Duke of Beloin and Earl of Harrington, but the earl is very much the managing partner."
"What is it you do here?"
Casimir smiled. "Develop investment opportunities."
"Sounds--"
"Fascinating?"
"I was going to say boring."
Casimir shrugged. "We aren't here with the excellent liquors courtesy of the earl to discuss my employment." He poured two glasses of Irish whiskey and signaled for Hans to sit in one of the large, comfortable wing chairs. "We are here to discuss my sister. And that hour in Vienna. The two are at least vaguely related."
Hans frowned at that. "In what way?"
"There are some things I won't tell you, because they are Krystyna's to tell. The rest I will tell you for two reasons. First, I tacitly promised you an explanation when I left Vienna. Second, I believe you to be a man of honor and as you will soon be my brother-in-law, I have little reason to fear you will use this information to my detriment."
Hans sat quietly, outwardly calm but clearly on the alert. Casimir continued.
"It would help if I gave you context. The story, as it were. Our father raised us with the belief that we were descended from the Polish king Casimir the Great and that it was our destiny to rule Poland one day."
Casimir waited patiently until Hans said something. "That seems... unlikely."
"You can imagine my surprise when I surmised the same thing after some years of schooling. Not impossible, but
not likely. Krystyna, however, still believes it."
"Thus why she's angry about you being here, married to a British girl."
"Essentially. And she was very close to our father. Has she told you about him?"
Hans shook his head.
Casimir smiled. "He was an amazing man. Larger than life. He would have to be, yes? To convince hundreds of people to support his claim to the throne of a country that was no longer even a country?"
"Hundreds?"
"We had even more supporters during my grandfather's time; many perished in the uprisings. But father rallied our remaining clan and changed tactics. No longer open rebellion. He became secretive and sent me to school that I might learn how to operate in the ruling class. Ingratiate myself to those in power."
Hans sat back. "You did very well."
Casimir grinned. "I did, didn't I? But what he hadn't calculated was how my education would affect me. That I would begin thinking for myself and come to two very damning conclusions. First, that the claim of lineage is questionable. I have no evidence that I am any more closely related to Casimir the Great than you are. Second, even if the lineage is true, the likelihood that we could both wrest Poland's independence and claim dominion is so remote as to be ludicrous to consider."
"But Krystyna believes you can."
Casimir leaned forward to reinforce his point. "Krystyna believes that I must. That it is my destiny and duty."
"How does this figure into that hour in Vienna?"
He sat back again. "Even if I don't believe myself to be destined to rule Poland, it doesn't mean the people don't have my sympathies. There is a great desire for an independent Poland and I will do everything I am able to help that happen. I needed that hour to gather the dozens of documents I had collected during my time at the Congress."
"Dozens?"
"Yes."
"Your wife. Was she a spy as well?"
"Yes, but for the United Kingdom." Casimir grinned as Hans digested that tidbit as well. The man had been in charge of security for the Prussian delegation, he surely couldn’t be happy that there had been two foreign spies literally under his nose for months.
