he knew better than to question him in this state. “The whole of Europe needs German leadership, to keep it on course,” said von Wolgast as if the prospect were a grim responsibility. “We cannot shirk our obligations to the world, not at this time.”
“True, very true,” said von Rosenwiese. “I could not...” He faltered and strove to recover his thought. “It is right that Germany take the lead.”
“And those of you in Foreign Affairs are the ones who must make the policy and set the tone for the rest of the government; too many of the men in power do not grasp the danger in which we stand,” said von Wolgast, hoping he still had enough of von Rosenwiese s attention to convince him. “You, with men like me and Krupp, will be the ones to bring Germany to the preeminent position that has so long been denied us.”
“Jawohl,” exclaimed von Rosenwiese. “In ten years, all Europe must have the stamp of Germany upon it.” He raised his glass to toast this prospect.
“It is the destiny of our country,” said von Wolgast, keeping his statement as simple as possible.
“That it is,” affirmed von Rosenwiese. He had slid down in his chair, but now made himself sit up as straight as he could. “No one can deny that Germany deserves to be first among the nations of Europe.”
“My point exactly,” von Wolgast encouraged.
“And we must not forget it.” Von Rosenwiese wagged an index finger at his host. “If Europe is not capable of understanding this, she must be made aware. Anything else is madness.”
“That she must. We are the bastion against the perils of the East,” von Wolgast reminded him.
“And the West,” added von Rosenwiese. He nearly dropped his glass.
Von Wolgast got up immediately. “Here,” he offered. “Let me refill that for you. It has been quite a hectic morning.”
“I shouldn’t,” said von Rosenwiese as he held his glass out for more. “I will not be able to return to the Ministry this afternoon.”
“You may stay here, if you like; there is a daybed in my study,” said von Wolgast, who had no intention of allowing von Rosenwiese to leave while his tongue was so loose. “I will want to show you some of the new designs we have put into production at my factory. Considering our discussion, I would think you would want to familiarize yourself with them.” He neatly topped off von Rosenwiese s glass, saying as he did, “You have dealt with a potentially ruinous problem. Who can blame you for taking advantage of the hospitality I am more than willing to offer?”
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“Its very good of you,” said von Rosenwiese, his drunkenness not obliterating his sense of manners. “It is probably foolish of me, but I do need ...” He had a long sip of the schnapps and smiled.
“Nonsense,” said von Wolgast. “Every man needs to let himself indulge from time to time, and you have been through more than most of us; you owe yourself a respite. I imagine that you have lived in dread of discovery from the day of your first promotion. And now, given how far you have risen, the anxiety must be very great.” He smiled with all his teeth.
“I was somewhat worried, yes,” said von Rosenwiese. “Knowing that you will have the letters relieves me more than you know.”
“And me, as well,” said von Wolgast, resuming his seat across from von Rosenwiese. “Tell me, Egmont: how much influence do you have on your colleagues? Will they listen to you if you propose any policy change?”
Von Rosenwiese considered his answer with the ponderous concentration of a fuddled mind. “I should think so,” he decided at last. “They did, in regard to Poland.”
“And what about the government in Prague? Have you any insights where the Czechs are concerned?” Von Wolgast already knew the answer but he waited while von Rosenwiese answered; how candid the younger man was now would give von Wolgast an opportunity to evaluate von Rosenwiese s judgment.
“I don’t know; I’ve never tried to address the issue of the Czechs. Poland and Hungary are my two primary areas of concern.” He cleared his throat noisily. “I am having dinner with von Moltke on Friday. I could speak to him about the Czechs.”
Von Wolgast nodded emphatically. “Find out if he still endorses von Bismarck’s belief that Germany is a European power, not a colonial one, and how far he is willing to go to secure Germany’s position in the world.” He had been unable to sound out the Chief of the General Staff on anything but the question of increasing the size of the army. “Any inquiry coming from me will be seen as the ambitions of an arms manufacturer, not a German seeking to promote Germany. I can hardly fault him for his circumspection, but I do wish to know his views; in his position I would predicate my expectations on the same assumptions. He will surely give you the more helpful answers.”
“Of course, of course. Of course. I would be pleased to do it; such a small thing, after all you have done for me.” Von Rosenwiese s smile was lopsided, but he did his best to maintain it. “I will call upon you on Sat-
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urday, if you will allow. It is the least I can do, Baron, with what you have done for me.”
“Alas, I will be away from Berlin from Friday until Tuesday; at my factory, as it happens.” He needed to review the progress on the orders from Sisak; there was no need to mention that to von Rosenwiese or anyone else in the government. “If you are available a week from today, I would be delighted to hear your evaluation of the Generals remarks. With your experience in the Ministry, you should be able to analyze his meaning, and bring about the possibility of more discussions.”
“With pleasure,” said von Rosenwiese, suddenly sounding half-asleep.
“You are exhausted, my friend, and small wonder,” said von Wolgast, rising again. “Let me send for Schmidt. He will prepare the bed for you.” There was a bellpull by the fireplace; he rang this and waited while he watched von Rosenwiese begin to doze.
Schmidt arrived promptly, but not quite quickly enough to earn him more than a hard stare from von Wolgast. He glanced at von Rosenwiese and sighed. “The study or one of the guest rooms, sir?”
“The study; the daybed. He will not feel he has been irresponsible if he sleeps in a daybed. He is still able to stumble up the stairs. You will not need help to get him there.” Von Wolgast spoke quietly, yet he was reasonably certain that von Rosenwiese could not hear or understand him.
“As you say,” Schmidt conceded, disliking the prospect of lugging this sot up the stairs. He went to help von Rosenwiese out of the chair, draping the taller mans leaden arm over his shoulder and securing him around the waist before leaving the drawing room to Baron von Wol-gast.
Two hours later, while von Rosenwiese snored on the floor above him, von Wolgast sat over coffee in his drawing room, savoring his sense of victory and planning how he would extend his influence over von Rosenwiese. He was startled by the sound of the front knocker, and shortly thereafter, Schmidts announcement that Nadezna had called and wished to see him.
“Did you tell her I am in?” von Wolgast demanded accusingly; he was in no mood for the dancers histrionics.
“She knew. I could not deny you.” He had made no effort to, either. “She says she will wait until you are finished if you are tending to business, but she must and will see you today.” Schmidt revealed nothing of his sentiments, but inwardly he hoped that Nadezna would give von
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Wolgast a hard time; he already felt ill-used and wanted to pay von Wol-gast in some of his own coin.
“Damn the woman,” said von Wolgast, more annoyed than irate. “I might as well get it over with. Show her into the parlor. And make sure she is offered refreshments. Tell her I will join her there directly.” He did not want to give anyone—least of all Nadezna herself—the impression that he could be summoned on a whim.
“As you wish,” said Schmidt as he bowed and withdrew.
Left on his own, von Wolgast tried to imagine what had brought Nadezna to his door. Whatever it was, he was not going to en
courage her to come here again. He had to admit it was unlike her to disturb him at his house; that alone was distressing to him, for it could mean that there was unanticipated trouble. The chance that he might have overlooked something significant to his efforts made him angry. He refilled his cup and added more sugar, stirring it slowly as he reflected on what might have brought her here. When half an hour had gone by without any answer suggesting itself, he put the remainder of his coffee aside and wandered down the hall to the parlor, as blue and pale-rose as the drawing room was oak and green.
Nadezna had sunk down on the settee, her gorgeous steel-grey cloak flung out around her, making a splendid frame for her graceful posture and many-layered gauze summer frock, like one of those sylphs in the Mucha paintings. She turned her head as von Wolgast came in, and favored him with a petulant stare. “You kept me waiting.”
“You did not tell me to expect you,” he said, walking over to her and bending down to kiss her brow. “But since you are here, I must presume that whatever the matter is, it cannot wait.”
“No. It cannot,” she said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “It is Sisak.”
Von Wolgast smirked. “You have made a conquest of him, have you?” He selected a cigar from the humidor kept on the desk against the far wall, snipped its end and prepared to light it. “Why complain of that?”
“The man is a . . . beast.” She made the last an accusation.
“Yes,” said von Wolgast, unwilling to be provoked. “I suppose he is. But he is a rich beast.”
“What does that matter?” she demanded with a sweeping motion of her arm to show that his money meant nothing to her. “He treats me like a gutter whore.”
“Does that surprise you?” von Wolgast asked her, preserving his unruffled calm. “I would have not expected him to do otherwise.”
“And you brought him to me, knowing that?” she said incredulously.
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“You understood what kind of. . . creature he was, and you still—
Von Wolgast held up a hand to silence her. “Spare me your indignation, if you please. You are not some abused innocent, are you?”
“I do not deserved to be so badly treated,” she insisted, her mouth set in petulant lines. “I want no part of him.”
“That is too bad, my pet: he wants to continue with you. He told me so not four days since. In his own way, he is besotted with you.” He smiled, his eyes flat as pebbles. “And as long as it serves my purpose to indulge him, you will make yourself desirable for him. Do you understand me?”
Nadezna rose to her feet, her movement as lovely and pliant as a willow in the wind. “I do not want to. He makes me sick.”
“Don’t assume you can win me over with a performance,” he warned her. “I have known you much too long to be swayed by your theatrics. Spare me, I beg of you.” His tone was more bored than pleading.
“Why?” she said, moving to confront him. “Because you do not want to deal fairly with me? I know he has been paying you for arranging our ... trysts. He told me as much last week.” She made a face that blighted her loveliness. “I cannot endure the thought of him. He smells. He . . . he humiliates me. And he delights in my humiliation.” There were tears standing in her eyes, and she caught her lower lip in her teeth.
Von Wolgast was unmoved by her display. “You are being very well-paid to suffer his petty demands,” he reminded her. “If you are willing to give up the money, then there is nothing more to say.”
“Oh, yes there is,” she countered. “Since I know how much he pays you—in diamonds—I have decided that I want a larger share of the jewels. I don’t want to have to be subjected to Tancred Sisak’s horrible—” She read von Wolgast’s expression, and abandoned the catalogue of Sisak’s despicable acts. “If you want me to continue with that barbarian, you will pay me half again as much as I have been receiving from you. If you will not do this, I will cease to receive that man in any way.” Regarding her through narrowed eyes, von Wolgast gave himself a moment to consider his options. He could not afford to have Nadezna reject Sisak at this time of delicate negotiations; he would have to make some gestures of compensation to stop her from denying herself to Sisak. Accepting his unwelcome predicament, he said, “Very well: I will give you thirty percent more of the diamonds than I have done, but not fifty percent.”
“It isn’t enough,” she said bluntly. “If you had any idea of how he behaves, you would not wonder at why I must have more.”
“Let us see how these terms work out. If you are not satisfied, we
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can discuss it again, at a later time. We can reach a more equitable arrangement when times are better.” He had no intention of permitting her to dictate the terms of their agreement; he had to make it appear he would.
“Thirty percent is not enough.” She placed herself in front of him, her hands on her hips in a show of defiance.
He pursed his lips, trying to find the means to calm her without capitulating to her demands. “For the moment, it must be. I have had very high expenses; the factory has needed refitting and that is costly. In a month or so, when the first orders have been delivered, there will be more money for us both.” He put his hands on her shoulders, letting her feel the weight of them. “Be patient, and together we can achieve our goals without rancor or suspicion.”
She was not to be cajoled. “I have no desire to be patient with Sisak. I want to hurt him. I want to repay him for what he has done to me.” “There, there, my pet,” said von Wolgast, leaning down to lass her brow. “It will not be much longer and then you and I will both be free of him. Is that really so much to ask? Hm?” He waited a moment, making sure she would not have another outburst. “And when this is concluded, I will be very, very grateful, I promise you.” He tightened his hands on her shoulders, to remind her what he could do if she failed him.
“I can’t take much more of him, and all his tyrannies,” she said, ashamed of herself for confessing so much. “When he puts his prick in my mouth, it’s all I can do not to bite it off.”
Von Wolgast winced, and his brow drew downward. “Don’t say such things, not even in jest.”
Realizing that she had struck a nerve, she smiled mischievously. In her best coquetting style she pursued, “Do you think I couldn’t do it? Oh, Baron, I can; take my word for it.”
“That is not an issue,” said von Wolgast stiffly. He moved away from her, disgruntled by her increasing merriment. “I don’t want you—” “Does it worry you?” she interrupted with exaggerated sympathy. “Do you become afraid, thinking I might one day do it to you?” She came up behind him and put her arms around his thick waist. “It wouldn’t be—”
As he rounded on her he brought up his hand, striking her back-handed and thrusting her away from him all in the same movement. “No more!” he bellowed at her, taking satisfaction in her awkward sprawl over the back of his eighteenth-century library chair. He came up to her, standing over her with hands tightened into fists; he was pant-
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ing with exertion and some sensation he did not dare to name. “Do not make it necessary for me to do anything more to discipline you. You don’t want bruises all over your body, now do you?”
Nadezna righted herself, her face already showing the mark of his blow. She schooled herself to a compliant manner, saying, “I did not intend to offend you.”
“I am not offended, I am revolted,” he said and made himself put a little space between them; it was too tempting to hit her again when she was so close. “Christ! Listen to yourself! You call Sisak a barbarian.” “Because he is,” she said in a small voice. She flicked her tongue over her lips and left a small smear of blood behind; the inside of her mouth had been cut by her teeth when he struck her.
“And then you— You’re as much a barbarian as he.” Von Wolgast tugged at his jacket, not willing to look at her.
She made an ef
fort to conceal the fear she felt as she watched him. “Baron. I apologize.” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear anything more about this. Not a single word.” He folded his arms. “You forget who you are dealing with, Madame. I will not tolerate such remarks from you or anyone. Is that clear?”
She put her hand to the side of her face he had injured and nodded. She would have to put ice and raw bacon on her face as soon as she got home or would have to keep within doors for a week while the bruise faded. “I mean it about the money, Baron,” she said sullenly.
“No doubt you do. I told you what I am prepared to do and I will abide by it, no matter what I may think of your lapse here.” He shrugged, trying to lessen her fear of him. “I will see you have thirty percent more now, and when I have been paid all that Sisak will owe me, I will make sure you share in that harvest.”
“Thank you,” she said without emotion.
“I think you will find you will not have to worry about your old age, not when we have achieved all that we can from Sisak and Persuic.” He felt his pulse begin to slow at last; he went a few steps closer to her. “I did not mean to hurt you. If you had not provoked me, I would not have.”
“I’ve apologized,” she reminded him. “I don’t want you to hurt me again.”
“If you don’t make it necessary, I won’t,” he said, and went to summon Schmidt. “I will have him fetch a cognac for you.”
“No, thank you,” she said, standing fully upright at last. Her head ached and her hands shook, but she managed to look resolute in spite
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of these factors. “I will tend to that when I am back in my own house. Charlotte will tend to me.”
“All right,” he said placatingly. “I won’t force it on you.”
She gave him a scornful, speaking glance. “How thoughtful; how contrite.”
Reluctantly he added, “If you must consult a physician, will you let me choose which one? I would not like you in the hands of—”
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