“You want my help, dear Cécile. I’ve spoken to my husband—no, I did not tell him why—I let him think I was curious about our official schedule. He told me nothing of particular note. Once the Fasching balls start, it’s party after party.”
“Was there anything, Your Highness, that if disrupted could cause a considerable commotion?” I asked.
“Aren’t the Fasching balls commotion enough?” she asked.
“Perhaps,” I said. “But what of political meetings? Will you be hosting any state visits?”
“Kaiser Wilhelm will be here in a few weeks, but not for a state visit. He and the emperor will meet privately, but I’ve no idea what they’ll discuss. You’d do better to ask Katharina Schratt if you want detailed information.”
It was an open secret that the actress had become the emperor’s closest confidante. They breakfasted together daily, and he’d gone so far as to have his villa connected to the one belonging to the woman with whom he shared what he called a “soul friendship.” Because she was not of high rank, her presence caused no political difficulties. She cooked for Franz Joseph, gossiped with him, kept him happy in a grounded, bourgeois way. “I’m sorry, I never meant—”
The empress waved a slender hand. “It is nothing. I’m pleased he has her.”
“Did he tell you anything else planned for the kaiser’s visit?” I asked.
“Nothing of significance. Wilhelm will only be here a few days. They’re going to attend mass, and then a reception for the boys in the court choir.”
“An unlikely spot for anarchists,” Cécile said, shrugging.
I opened my mouth to speak but stopped myself, and was instantly horrified by my motivation. A reception with innocent choirboys sounded like a perfect target for anarchists to me. But I wasn’t about to tell the empress that. If I did, she might do something to cancel the engagement and derail Herr Schröder’s plans. I could not risk that, could not risk losing Colin.
“How I long to return to Corfu and be away from all this,” the empress said, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “Anarchists, violence, suicide. This city reeks of death.”
“I can’t think of a happier escape than Greece,” I said.
“Yes, you study Greek, do you not, Kallista?” the empress asked.
“I do. I’ve only just finished reading the Odyssey in Greek.”
“Do you know the modern language as well as the ancient?”
“Not so well as I would like. I’ve a villa on Santorini, and my cook’s son does his best to teach me, but I haven’t spent the time necessary to become fluent.”
“It’s a wonderfully passionate language. How long will you be in Vienna? Perhaps we could meet and practice our conversational skills while you’re here.”
“That would be lovely,” I said.
“My instructor in the ancient language, Monsieur Rhoussopholous, is incomparable.” She fluffed her skirts, a flighty gesture that was at odds with the rest of her. “And the best classicists in the world come to me. Although not so often as they used to.”
“You have been entirely negligent of your needs since the death of your son,” Cécile said.
“Isn’t it enough that I manage to stay alive? Even that requires more effort than I’m inclined to expend. My poor dear boy. I miss him terribly.”
“I can’t imagine a pain greater than that felt by a mother who has lost her child,” I said. “I’m so very sorry.”
We all sat very still, no one speaking, until the empress shook her head. “I will never believe that he killed himself.” She looked at Cécile. “You know he and his father had radically different political views. The French and the English both would have been happy to see Rudolf on the throne instead of my husband. He might have been persuaded to transfer Austria’s allegiance away from Germany.”
“Which means they would never have wanted Rudolf dead,” Cécile said. “This is a fruitless line of thought, Sissi. You must stop.”
“I’m sorry if we’ve distressed you,” I said.
“I no longer remember what it is not to be distressed.” She closed her eyes and said nothing further for a long moment. “I do have one other thing to tell you,” she said, opening her eyes and looking directly at me. “I’ve a friend who’s still…active…in political matters. He knows about you, and told me that you’re in danger.”
“Did he say how he knew?” I asked.
“No, only that you’ve drawn the attention of one of your countrymen, a very undesirable man.”
“Mr. Harrison,” I said.
“You must tell Monsieur Hargreaves at once,” Cécile said. “He will arrange to have you protected. He can—”
“No, Cécile. It’s fine. I’ll be careful. Don’t worry. Please let’s not discuss it any further right now. Tell us about Klimt. Are you going to see him tonight?”
“You think they will strike against these children?” Cécile asked after we’d left the palace.
“How did you know that’s what I suspect?”
“You entirely abandoned questioning her once she’d told you about the emperor’s plans. You would never have let go of the topic if you were not satisfied with the information before you.”
“I shall have to learn to be less obvious,” I said. “But yes, I do think that’s where they’ll attack. Mr. Harrison wants to start a war. If he could assassinate the rulers of Austria and Germany simultaneously, as well as a group of innocent boys—”
“People would be angry, but I do not see how that would lead to war.”
“What if it leaked out that the attack was supported by the British government?” I asked.
“Mais ce n’est pas possible.”
“Mr. Harrison is part of the government.”
“You must inform Monsieur Hargreaves at once.”
“Yes.” I was paying attention only to the snow falling outside the window.
“Kallista? Are you listening? We must do something about this threat at once.”
“We don’t have credible information about a threat,” I said. “All we’ve done is trust that the empress knew what to look for in her husband’s diary. She could have missed something.”
“You don’t believe that. Be careful, Kallista. You will never feel right if you sacrifice even one life in an attempt to save Colin’s.”
“You’re quite wrong about that. For him, there is nothing I would not sacrifice.”
27 December 1892
London
Dear Lady Ashton,
I was quite taken aback by your letter. Although I suspect your condolences were not heartfelt, they were appreciated nonetheless. My dear Basil was a man of incomparable talent, and all of Britain will feel the loss of him. He was not well understood by his peers—that, I suppose was the price levied on him for greatness.
I was rather amused by your request. Surely you are not so naïve that you would believe, even for an instant, that I would share with you such sensitive information? But I will admit that after you drew my attention to Robert Brandon and his family difficulties last summer when you were investigating the murder of David Francis, I found myself growing more than a little fond of the man, although he lacks the callousness required to be a truly extraordinary politician. Even without this scandal, he would never have survived in politics.
He’d already been cut from Basil’s inner circle, and knew that his career was hopeless. Regardless, I don’t believe he committed murder. Mainly because he’s not cold-hearted enough to do such a thing.
There is very little I can offer you in assistance other than to tell you candidly that Brandon was not the only man with political aspirations on the dueling field in Vienna the day Schröder died. But Brandon is, unfortunately for him and his lovely wife, far less significant to the government than his colleague.
I am sorry to say it, but it seems utterly unlikely that any verdict other than guilty will be returned when at last he goes to trial. So far as I have learned (and you know my connections ena
ble me to learn whatever I want), there is no evidence that would exonerate Brandon or lead the police to consider another suspect. I’m afraid it’s a hopeless business.
I do feel, however, that I should warn you before you delve further into all of this. Basil’s enemies were an unsavory bunch. Should it be that any of them was involved in his murder and you came close to exposing the truth, your own life would be at risk. Harrison in particular is not someone with whom you should trifle.
I am yrs., etc.,
D. Reynold-Plympton
Chapter 19
Herr Schröder was not waiting for me in the Stephansdom at our appointed time the next day. I knelt at the altar railing for a quarter of an hour, wondering what saint to petition for protection against hired assassins, but could conjure up no one save Saint Jude, patron of hopeless and desperate causes. My knees began to hurt. I moved to a pew and opened the battered copy of the Odyssey that I’d brought with me.
“Reading pagan authors in a Christian church?” Herr Schröder slid along the bench next to me. “You would make a lovely martyr.”
“You’ve reversed things entirely. It was the Christians who were martyred.”
“Until the Crusades.” His arm rested uncomfortably close to me along the back of the pew. “I saw your chaperone in the nave. Does he like following you?”
“Not particularly,” I said.
“What do you have for me today?”
“You’re enjoying this rather too much.” I handed him a slim envelope. “He knows about the kaiser.”
“What about the kaiser?” Herr Schröder would never be Colin’s equal in the realm of spying; he lacked the ability to freeze emotion out of his eyes.
“The visit, the reception…”
He opened the envelope, read the contents, and handed it all back to me. “How does he know?”
I shrugged. “I can’t imagine. You’ve assured me repeatedly that your ‘organization’ is sound.”
“How is he planning to stop us?”
“For today you must be content with knowing that he’s aware of your plan.”
“I need more.” He leaned too close, and I pushed back from him. “You need more, unless you’re fond of widow’s weeds. Although you’re not his wife. A funny position, that of fiancée. Nothing official, nothing real. If he were to die before your wedding, it would be as if you’d never been connected.”
“An entirely irrelevant observation,” I said.
“You’re overconfident. If he is in a position to stop what I am planning, I will kill him.” His arm was once again inching closer to my shoulder. “You, Kallista, must do more than bring me information. You must convince him that my plot is something altogether different.”
“That’s ridiculous. He’d never believe I would have knowledge of such things.”
“He knows you’re an intelligent, resourceful woman.”
“Who he does not expect to begin playing spy,” I said, gripping my book.
“I don’t trust you.” He was almost touching me. “You love this man. Perhaps you are double-crossing me, not him.”
“He’s betrayed me.”
“Kristiana tells me he’s come to her only once since he’s been back in Vienna.”
Words that I didn’t believe ought not to have stung so much. “She’s lying.”
“Undoubtedly. Theirs was a passion not so easily sated.” His eyes narrowed. “This makes you uncomfortable?”
“Should I enjoy hearing about his past loves?”
“Past?”
I looked him dead in the eyes and leaned towards him, then lowered my gaze. “I keep trying to convince myself that if it were only the past, it wouldn’t matter. But that’s not quite true, is it?”
“You have a history of your own. You were married to his best friend, were you not?”
“Yes.”
“So you are no stranger to betraying those you love.”
“You can’t betray the dead.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong.” He dropped his arm from the bench and rested a hand on his knees. “But that does not concern me at the moment. I see the jealousy on your face when you hear Kristiana’s name. I’m inclined to believe that you are upset enough to betray Hargreaves. And if not…” His lips parted in a wide smile that in any other context would have charmed the most cynical soul. “It doesn’t matter. You love him enough to want to protect him. So now convince him that the attack on the emperor will come at a Fasching ball.”
“How am I to do that?”
“That, Kallista, is no concern of mine. You’re the one with a vested interest in seeing him alive at the New Year.”
I had no intention of hiding any of this from Colin. But with each step I took from the cathedral to his rooms, my legs grew shakier and my stomach lurched, until Jeremy suggested we find a fiacre. Driving, we reached the house quickly. Though the frigid temperatures ought to have made it impossible, sweat beaded on my forehead as I burst through Colin’s door. Jeremy, who had been ten paces behind me, caught up at the instant my fiancé, taken aback by my appearance, took me in his arms.
“It doesn’t appear you have any further need for me,” he said, nodding at Colin, who reached for his hand and shook it.
“I’m much obliged, Bainbridge.”
Jeremy left without another word. Colin turned to me, his face full of concern.
“You are unwell. Let me get you some wine.”
“I don’t want wine.” I lifted my lips to his and kissed him so fiercely that he started to lose his balance.
“What brings this on?” he asked.
“Need I have an excuse?”
“Never.” He took my face in his hands and kissed me gently, then dropped one hand to the back of my neck, pulled me closer, and abandoned any pretense of softness.
I would have happily continued on in this manner for the remainder of the afternoon and into the evening had I been able to ignore the fear stabbing at me. With effort, I slowed my breathing and stepped away from him. “I’ve learned something significant.”
“About Robert?”
“No. About Schröder’s plans.” I bit my lip. “I know I must tell you everything, but I’m finding doing so unexpectedly difficult.”
“Why is that?”
“Because if you know his plans, you’ll thwart them. And if that happens, he’ll kill you.”
“You give him far too much credit.” His untoward smile troubled me.
“I fear your confidence will make you careless,” I said.
“You must tell me what you know.”
“You could at least pacify me by insisting that you’ll be careful.”
“Honesty is more important to me than pacifying you, Emily. My work requires confidence—and boldness—that would not be possible if I were overly concerned with being careful.”
I stared at my hands.
Then at his boots.
Then back at my hands.
And finally I mustered the courage to meet his eyes.
“I understand and respect your work. I know that it’s dangerous. That does not trouble me. But I will not lose you to arrogance.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Consider carefully the threats against you. Do not assume you are invincible.”
“I would never be so foolish,” he said.
“Yet you seem so very cavalier about knowing that someone has been hired to kill you.”
“I am well trained to take care of myself, Emily. You must trust in that.”
“I’ll ask nothing of you that you don’t ask of me: No unnecessary danger.”
“Fair enough.” His answer came too quickly. “So what have you learned?”
I looked into his eyes and for an instant knew what it would be to never see them again. “It will happen during the kaiser’s next visit here, after the Fasching has begun.”
“The kaiser is not scheduled to be in Vienna until the summer.”
“It’s an un
official visit.”
“How did you learn this?
“The empress.”
“And how did you confirm that the attack will take place then?”
“Schröder.”
“Is there anything else?”
“At the moment, no.” My heart was knocking against my ribs. Surely this was enough. He would figure out the rest, but not so easily that it would alarm Herr Schröder. But what then? While Colin solved his puzzle, I would have to figure out a way to render Mr. Harrison powerless. And somehow, in the midst of all this, find whatever he might have stolen in Yorkshire. I felt Colin’s finger on my lips.
“I’m curious to know what inspired your amorous greeting this afternoon.”
“I’m not sure. It took me by surprise. I was so scared after talking to Herr Schröder, and every nerve in my body seemed…I don’t know.”
“More alive?”
“Yes, but I was terrified.”
“Invigorating, isn’t it?” He was kissing my neck.
“Inexplicably, yes.”
“Almost makes the fear palatable.”
“Almost.”
“You’ll have to redirect the emotion.” And he proceeded to act in a manner perfectly designed to do just that.
After leaving Colin, I set off for the von Langes’ house. My courage did not wane even when I was ushered into the countess’s too-hot sitting room. The last time I’d been in it, I’d welcomed its warmth; now I found it cloying. I peeled off my coat, dropped into a chair, and pulled a fan out of my reticule.
“Warm, Lady Ashton?” The countess glared at me as she came into the room.
“Terribly. I don’t know how you bear it.” I snapped open the fan and began waving it.
“Why are you here, Lady Ashton? I’m not bored enough to have even the slightest inclination to pretend to be your friend.”
“Do you love Colin?”
Her eyes flashed. “Why don’t you ask him?”
I stared at her a moment before continuing. “I suppose love is irrelevant. You still long for him. That’s obvious.”
“I have a connection with him that will never fade.”
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