“I have never seen you so dull,” Cécile said, leaning forward and poking him with her walking stick. “Have you grown tired of protecting hapless females when you could be courting a mistress?”
How I wished she’d said anything but that.
“I find doing anything on behalf of hapless females tedious—not that it stops me, mind you. But though Emily could be described as many things, hapless is not one of them.”
I smiled at him, but he did not look at me. Instead, he was staring intently at his gloves.
“I cannot have you glum,” Cécile said. “It is intolerable. I spent the entire afternoon with Friedrich and Anna and cannot stand even one instant more of romantic angst.”
“Angst?” I asked. “I thought they were blissfully happy?”
“Oh they are, chérie. Until they remember that their time together is limited. Then it’s all weeping and sighing and—” She stopped and shrugged.
“I can assure you, Madame du Lac, that there is no angst of any form in this carriage tonight,” Jeremy said.
Cécile reached over and took his hand. “I’m so glad, mon ami. I was afraid you had decided to never flirt with me again.” She winked at him, and he laughed.
“Far from it,” he said, kissing her hand. “You’re irresistible.”
“And old enough to be your mother,” she said. “I begin to care less and less that you are not so handsome as Monsieur Hargreaves.”
“Coming from you, madame, that is a compliment of the highest order.” The carriage slowed as we reached our destination. Jeremy paid the driver and helped us down from our seats. The street was filthy, and a man stumbling in an intoxicated blur nearly knocked into me as we made our way to the door of the Ofenloch. Jeremy steered me to safety with a firm arm, a thin smile on his face. I wanted to make a teasing remark about him rescuing me, but no longer felt I could do such a thing. My head hurt all the more at the realization of this.
The inside of the tavern was not at all what I had expected, particularly given its surroundings. An enormous fireplace filled the room with a cozy warmth, and boisterous laughter came from the patrons who occupied nearly every table. There was a bright energy about the place, a sort of sincerity in the atmosphere that I hadn’t often felt.
“There’s Rina,” Jeremy said, walking towards her without pausing to make sure we were following. When he reached her, he bowed as carefully as he would have at a party at Buckingham Palace. He kissed her hand, and she blushed, her expression turning hard the moment Cécile and I reached them.
“I brought your muff,” she said, grabbing it from a chair and thrusting it at me. She was wearing what must have been her best dress, a carefully constructed copy of last year’s latest fashion. The material, a soft wool, claret-colored, was worn but well cared for.
“I meant for you to keep it,” I said, hoping this would not embarrass her. She looked at me through narrow eyes.
“I s’pose you’ve got so many you won’t miss one?”
“Not at all.” I had no desire to flaunt my wealth. “But it looks lovely with your hair and ought to be yours.”
“Then I guess I might as well keep it.” She tried to glare at me, but I could see in the dim light that her eyes were shining, just a bit. “Who’s your friend?”
“I am Cécile du Lac.” She shook the girl’s hand and sat down at the table. “What shall we eat? I’m famished.”
This seemed to take Rina by surprise, as she jumped and looked at Jeremy, who sat across from Cécile, next to the chair where the muff had been. “Schnitzel, I imagine.”
“It’s the best in Austria,” Rina said, taking the chair next to Jeremy. “I didn’t think you would want to eat.”
“It is rather late,” Jeremy said, meeting her eyes. “But I assumed that you were sending us somewhere worth the wait.”
Cécile looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
“Is Herr Schröder here yet?” I asked.
“Ja.” The voice came from behind me, and I suddenly wished I were seated with my back to the wall. He stepped forward. “Come sit over here with me, Kallista.”
Jeremy gave me a questioning look and Rina glared at Herr Schröder, who took not the slightest notice of her. I flashed an uneasy smile to Jeremy before sitting at a table near enough that he could keep an eye on me.
“I feel lucky to have tracked you down,” I said in German.
“I’m not pleased Rina told you where to find me. I didn’t think we had anything else to discuss,” he answered in English.
“You’re wrong.” I did not switch to my native tongue. A waitress deposited tall glasses of beer in front of us. “I know about your plans, and so does the British government.”
He laughed and replied in German. “I do like you, Kallista. You’re full of spirit. Misguided, but entertaining nonetheless.”
“So you’re not hoping to assassinate the kaiser in spectacular fashion and blame England for it?” He did not reply. I’d spent no short time planning what to say to him, how to trick him into confessing something, and bluffing seemed my best—if not only—option. I’d decided it was reasonable to surmise that if anarchists were planning something during the kaiser’s visit, a dramatic murder would be at the top of their agenda. “I need you to help me find out who warned Fortescue. In exchange, I will provide you with England’s plans to thwart your attack.”
“You have no way of learning such a thing.”
“Do not underestimate women, Herr Schröder. You’d be shocked how loose a man’s grip on his secrets becomes when he’s with his mistress.”
He laughed louder and slapped the table with his palm. “I’m to believe that you’re stealing state secrets from a lover?”
“Yes.” I looked at him with a level stare.
“A lover or your fiancé?”
“Does it matter?”
“It might.” He drained his glass with astonishing speed and motioned for the waitress to bring another.
“I’m aware of much more than you give me credit for. You undoubtedly know about Mr. Harrison’s escapades at Beaumont Towers? That he stole papers from Lord Fortescue’s room? I believe they had to do with your plans?”
He flinched, and I knew my deduction was correct. How I wished I’d been able to see the papers! I was beginning to enjoy this.
“Did you know that Fortescue accused me of taking them?” I asked, swigging my own beer and trying to ignore its bitter taste. “You would do better to ally yourself with me than Harrison. Harrison sought my assistance in England, then double-crossed me. What makes you think he won’t do the same to you?”
“I’m beginning to think this isn’t all fantasy on your part. Harrison—”
“Harrison attacked me this morning. He wouldn’t do that if I didn’t threaten him.”
“He’s not concerned about you, it’s Hargreaves who worries him.”
“I have access to everything my fiancé knows.”
“And I’m to believe you’d double-cross him?”
“The Countess von Lange is his mistress. He’d sworn to me that he’d broken it off with her.” I paused, bit my lip, and lowered my eyes, hoping that I looked wounded. “I learned this morning that he has not.”
“Kristiana?” The familiar way her name tripped off his tongue and the flash of anger in his eyes were telling.
“I’ve been told you know her well, but it seems your acquaintance is…closer than I realized. I do hope you’ve been careful. She’d be all too willing to share your secrets with Mr. Hargreaves.”
“That is none of your concern.” He drained his second beer.
I shrugged. “Everything she does is my concern so long as he’s betraying me with her.” My nerves were beginning to lose the steel I’d tried so hard to inject into them. Acknowledging in a semi-public fashion that Colin had been unfaithful to me stung, even if it was not true, and I realized that this was partially due to my suspicion that Kristiana was doing everything in her not inconsequential
power to tempt him.
My cheeks grew hot, and I feared that my companion would catch my lie. Instead, he misinterpreted what he saw.
“You’re angry, aren’t you? Can you prove to me that you have access to Hargreaves’s information?”
“Of course I can,” I said, filled with uncertainty, hoping upon hope that Colin would help me with this.
He pulled a piece of paper and a pencil out of his jacket pocket and scrawled something on it before handing it to me. “We must do this privately. I can be found at this address every afternoon between two and five. Bring me something as soon as you can that will prove you’re telling the truth.”
This time he spoke to me in German.
23 December 1891
Darnley House, Kent
My dear daughter,
I have heard the most outrageous thing from Lady Elliott. She claims that you visited Robert Brandon at Newgate. I tell you this not to send you scurrying to ease my mind on the subject, but to offer you a bit of amusement.
Your father and I are going to Balmoral after Christmas and I am beside myself that you will not be able to join us. Perhaps, though, Mme du Lac has arranged for you to spend time with the Hapsburgs. I am delighted to learn that you have been presented to the empress! She is an eccentric woman, but much to be admired. If she takes a liking to you, I wonder if she might be persuaded to come to your wedding. Imagine if you had her in addition to the queen! Your father once met the tsarevitch, Nicholas, of Russia. I wonder, if we set our minds to it, if we could have a guest list superior to that of Princess Louise when she married that abominable German prince last summer.
Oh, my dear Emily, you know how pleased I am at your engagement, but when I think of the tsarevitch, who is not yet married, I must say that you should have tried harder for a royal match. Such a thing is always difficult for a commoner, but a girl of your wealth and beauty could have tempted a prince. Not, mind you, that I mean any disrespect to your dear, departed husband.
Do write soon and tell me all about the parties in Vienna. Lady Paget says the atmosphere is hideous there, and that the balls are poorly organized. Hardly surprising. But I am glad you are enjoying the pleasure of such high company. It was wise of you to leave England with this scandal of the Brandons brewing. I fear for poor Ivy. No one will marry the widow of a murderer.
Prince Eddy’s marriage to May is set for the twenty-seventh of February. I have already told the queen you will be there.
I am your loving mother,
C. Bromley
Chapter 16
Mr. Harrison’s presence everywhere I turned had become more and more unsettling. Cécile and I were in our sitting room at the Imperial—a lovely space, furnished in Louis XVI antiques—ostensibly chaperoning Friedrich and Anna, who were leaning extremely close together on a sofa. I’d planned to work on my Greek, but was too distracted to think. When I went to my bedroom to collect my books, I found a bullet resting on top of them. When I returned to the sitting room, I gave it to Cécile, who was suitably horrified.
“What are we going to do about this, chérie?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Obviously the hotel’s increased security measures aren’t enough.”
“This is dreadful, Kallista,” she said, the bullet still in her hand.
“Beyond imagining. But we cannot be daunted. Terrified, yes, but daunted, no.”
“Robert Brandon is lucky to count you among his friends,” Cécile said.
“There’s no fear I would not face to save him.” Strong words that were not matched by a calm demeanor. I sat on my hands to keep them from shaking.
Cécile straightened her shoulders and raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to ask Sissi to send someone from the palace. We need a better guard.”
“Merci,” I said.
“And in the meantime, I will not allow this despicable man to torment us. I will distract you. You do realize that Christmas is in two days?”
“I’m not feeling particularly inclined to celebrate,” I said, wondering when Mr. Harrison would tire of leaving bullets and decide instead to shoot them.
“We will have a small party here.” Cécile was holding Caesar on her lap while Brutus stared up at her with longing eyes. I took pity on the dog and picked him up, regretting it at once as he began to gnaw on my lace cuffs.
“Must we?” I returned the dog to the floor and gave him a biscuit.
“I’ve invited Klimt. Monsieur Hargreaves, of course, and Jeremy. Friedrich has nowhere else to go, and it might be amusing if you could convince Monsieur Schröder to join us. I was thinking of telling Jeremy to ask Rina.”
“Rina?”
“Oui. I think he’s fond of her. Do you object?”
“Of course not. I’m just surprised. Are you sure?”
“They were quite friendly when you were meeting with Schröder at the restaurant. And yesterday I overhead him having an earnest discussion about houses in a neighborhood not far from here.”
“You think he’s going to take a house in Vienna? Why would he do that?” I asked.
“Not for himself. For her.”
“Surely not!”
“I confronted him about it. He’s concerned for her safety. You’ve seen the neighborhood in which she lives, Kallista.”
“Yes, it’s dreadful,” I said. “He’s right to try to take her out of it. I just don’t—”
“You’re shocked at the thought that he might make her his mistress.”
“No! I—” I paused. “Yes, I am. And I’m ashamed of myself.”
“Is it because of her class?”
“No, it’s just…such a blatant thing to do. And it ruins her while it saves her. There must be a better way.”
“It is preferable to leaving her in a slum, don’t you think?”
“Of course.” And it was, but it did not sit well with me for a host of reasons I did not entirely comprehend. “I suppose he won’t see her often. It’s not as if he often travels to the Continent—”
“Are you jealous?” Cécile asked.
“Not in the least!” I said. “I just…I’ve never before known someone who’s done such a thing.”
“You undoubtedly know many gentlemen who’ve set up households for women. But until now, you were blissfully unaware of it.”
“I’m not sure that makes me feel better, Cécile.”
Cécile looked over at Friedrich and Anna. “What can we do to convince her parents that they should be married?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m afraid I’ve given the subject sadly little thought. It’s not that I don’t wish to help them—”
“You do not have the luxury of focusing on such pleasantly challenging endeavors at the moment. I spoke to Klimt about the university murals. It will be two years at least before anyone will be given the commission. And the fact is, it’s unlikely that it will be awarded to anyone but Klimt and his brother.”
“Poor Friedrich. There must be something that we can do.”
“Leave our young lovers to me. I will see them engaged before we leave Vienna.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” I said.
MY FIANCÉ WAS WAITING for me when I arrived at the Griensteidl. Jeremy had come with me, but did not go inside, only checked to make sure Colin was there. I nodded to Viktor to indicate that I wanted my usual and dropped into a chair, beginning to feel my nerves calm the moment I breathed in the rich smell of coffee. I might not like to drink it, but its scent provided instant comfort, undoubtedly because the Griensteidl had started to feel like home.
“This paper,” he said, waving a copy of the Neue Freie Presse in front of me. “It’s outrageous the way they report on every detail of suicides in the city, almost as if they’re sport. One more spectacular than the next.”
“I wonder if it encourages people?” I asked, pulling off my gloves and removing my hat, glad to be discussing something other than Mr. Harrison and Herr Schröder, even if only for a moment.
“There’s a strange culture of death in Vienna. You should see the parades of people leaving flowers in the cemeteries on All Saints’ Day. The Neue Freie Presse runs lengthy critiques of what’s left at famous graves. Did Beethoven get better flowers than Schubert?”
“Friedrich told me about that,” I said, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. “Morbid.”
“Of course many of the suicides end up in the Friedhof der Namenlosen, the Cemetery of the Nameless. A bleak, unhappy place.”
“But full of flowers and devout prayer on All Souls’ Day,” I said. “Lady Paget says that even the children here throw themselves in the Danube if they can’t do their schoolwork. She’s exaggerating, I’m sure, but it’s all so very different from England.”
“Where none of it would ever be spoken of.”
“Precisely,” I said. “Though I’m not sure if that’s entirely a bad thing.”
“How was your meeting with Schröder?”
“I’m afraid I got a bit carried away.”
“How so?” Colin asked, and I described for him exactly what had happened. “You have quite a flair for this, my dear. You’ve no fear at all, do you?” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“It was rather thrilling,” I said, feeling a creeping flush of excitement along with a sigh of relief. I’d been afraid that he’d be angry at being put in what could be considered an awkward situation. “I hope you don’t object to my giving your mistress back to you.”
“I couldn’t care less what Schröder thinks of me so long as it does not trouble you.”
A Fatal Waltz Page 16
