“He has no connection to me and it is not my story to tell,” she said hastily. “I merely wished to know his character for reasons that are important only to me. Thank you for seeing me, sir. Good morning.”
Although she felt she had to leave it there to avoid suspicion, she still had hope that he would give her something, a word acknowledging that Garin worked for him, or that he knew no one of that name. Something that would at least have made her early morning visit worthwhile. But he merely walked across the room and opened the door for her.
“Speak to your father,” he advised kindly.
“Thank you,” she said again and passed him into the hallway she’d entered by. As she crossed the marble hall—a small space by the standards of the Hofburg—another door opened and a large man emerged.
Catching sight of her, he bowed, and moved quickly to open the outer door for her.
“Fraulein Lisle?” he asked.
She paused, her heart lurching. “Yes?” She searched the man’s face, which wasn’t comforting.
He had a large scar crossing his lips and his nose had clearly been broken at least once. She’d rarely seen anyone so villainous looking, but then again, intelligence shone in his deliberately amiable yet sharp blue eyes.
“I thought I recognized you,” he said in German. “My name is Weber. If you don’t already know, Count von Meyer asked me to find the Crown Prince of Kriegenstein.”
“Did he?” she asked, forcing herself to breathe normally. “Is His Highness lost?”
“No one seems to have seen him for two days…unless you have?”
“No, I haven’t. But that isn’t unusual, you know.”
“So you aren’t anxious about him? I thought that might be why you called on the baron. I wanted to reassure you in person that I’ll do all I can.”
“Thank you,” she said. After all, one should never judge by appearances and the man was being both civil and helpful. “Though my business was quite different.” She paused in the doorway. “By any chance, do you work with a man named Garin?”
“Never heard of him,” Weber said without much interest. “Why?”
“No reason,” she said faintly. “Um, thank you for seeking out the prince.”
The words came awkwardly as she nodded and stepped with relief out into the fresh, damp air. Remembering, she drew the veil back down over her face.
Weber’s answer, she thought, might have been a standard denial, much like Baron von Hager’s. But she didn’t think so. Weber might have been interested in her because of Otto’s disappearance, but she was fairly sure his answer was spontaneous truth. Which made it increasingly unlikely that Garin was who and what he said he was.
So…was he Otto’s missing half-brother? Had he killed Otto and then induced her to silence with his cock and bull story about seeking the prince’s killer?
For the first time, she wondered what Garin had done with the body. The last she’d seen of it, Garin’s man had been carrying it away. Perhaps this Weber had already found it. Perhaps Baron Hager himself knew.
Dismay made her walk faster, concentrating so completely on escaping from the vicinity of the Chancellery, that she barely noticed the young woman tripping along the path beside her.
“Good morning, mademoiselle!” the girl greeted Esther in cheerful French.
Esther nodded distractedly. “Mademoiselle.”
“Forgive my presumption, but I was asked to give you this.”
A piece of folded paper slid between Esther fingers. Surprised, she halted, lifting her gaze from the paper to the young woman who smiled and walked on. It struck Esther that she was somewhat gaudily—and skimpily—dressed for the weather.
“Aren’t you cold?” she called after her.
The girl laughed. “No, mademoiselle. Very rarely nowadays!”
Esther gave up and opened the folded paper. In a neat hand a message was written in English. Return at two am, enter by the door shown and follow the directions on the map. Everything will be well. A rough diagram with passages, stairs, doors, and a scribbled X was drawn beneath the words.
Her breath caught. Had Baron von Hager had second thoughts about helping her? Or was it a trap? Or was it from him? Garin? Had he seen her here?
She cast a quick, searching glance up at the myriad windows, but realized quickly she’d never see him, or anyone else. Instead, she crumpled the note in her hand and ran after the girl who’d delivered it.
“Mademoiselle!” she called. The girl glanced back casually, as if to see who was addressed, and then halted in clear astonishment when she beheld Esther running toward her. Hastily, she walked back to meet her.
“What is it?” the girl asked.
“Who gave you this, mademoiselle?”
“A gentleman. I don’t know his name.”
“What did he look like? Tall or short? A soldier? A civilian?”
The girl shrugged. “Medium height, I think, and he wore a plain black coat.”
“Dark haired? Light? Was he handsome? Or ugly,” she added, thinking at the last moment about Herr Weber.
“Not ugly. Quite handsome,” the girl said judicially. “Certainly distinguished. A gentleman used to being obeyed. And his hair was brown and straight. Do you not know this man?”
“I think I might,” Esther said. It sounded very like Garin.
The girl seemed relieved. “Well that’s not so bad. I’m not usually the chosen messenger to a lady and I wouldn’t like to be getting you into trouble.”
“How could you possibly do that?” Esther said vaguely, rereading the note and glancing at the roughly drawn map beneath the instructions.
“Just by talking to you, truth be told. I’m not exactly respectable company for a lady!”
Esther glanced at her again. She was a couple of years younger than Esther, probably not yet twenty, and very beautiful. An expensive necklace adorned her pale throat and overly large earrings dangled almost to her semi-naked shoulders. Esther began to understand.
“Really?” she said, with interest. “Are you a courtesan?”
The girl laughed. “It’s a politer name than some. You take care now with that so-called gentleman.”
“I will,” Esther assured her. “Thank you.”
The girl walked on, and Esther fell into step beside her. “What’s your name?”
The girl blinked. “Josephine Wolters. But trust me, you don’t want to know me.”
“Actually, I think I might. You just came out of the palace, didn’t you?”
Josephine grinned. “Maybe. It’s the Russian officers, mainly. They’re insatiable.”
“How did you get in, in the first place?” Esther asked, storing the interesting information for later.
Josephine winked. “That would be telling.”
“I would rather like you to tell me,” Esther said earnestly.
Josephine eyed her with unexpected doubt in her eyes. “Not sure I should,” she said bluntly. “You’re too green. I don’t think you know how to play the game, and gentlemen like him take advantage. Follow my advice and make him come to you.”
Esther felt a flush rise to her cheeks. “It’s not what you think. And that won’t work in this case. Please tell me.”
Josephine considered her. “You’ll try anyway, won’t you? You’d better meet me at the Burgtheater at midnight.”
Chapter Eight
Esther found herself wishing the whole day away. The note had promised that tonight’s meeting would resolve everything. As the day wore on, she grew more and more certain that the message had come from Garin, and that it was to do with Otto. After all, the prince’s quarters had been at the Hofburg, and Meyer now occupied them. Esther’s preferred theory was that Meyer had killed Otto in an attempt to prevent the idiot from ruining Kriegenstein, and that Garin had discovered proof which he wished to show her, as his ally.
She didn’t care so much for her other theory, which was that Garin, Otto’s natural half-brother, had killed t
he prince for revenge or some imagined slight against his mother, or perhaps under the illusion that he could then become the king’s heir. The strange thing was, although she could imagine Garin killing Otto—and reprehensibly couldn’t bring herself to mind very much—she couldn’t really see him as the power-hungry victim nursing grievances since childhood. To her, Garin had the air, the quiet confidence, of a capable man who had made his own way in the world and needed neither plaudits nor crowns.
However, she was aware her vision of him was colored by the fact that he’d kissed her. And that she’d let him. It didn’t even matter that he’d done so to steal her reticule. As he’d pointed out, he could have taken that at any time by any means. That he’d chosen that particular way, proved he’d wanted to kiss her.
Her heart rippled whenever that most improper kiss entered her head—which was often. She had the feeling he would be a very different kind of lover from any she’d either known or imagined. Unexpected, exciting…
On the other hand, she was a soldier’s daughter, and she hadn’t been born yesterday. She didn’t know for certain that the message was Garin’s and she didn’t really know if he meant her ill. So, she would be prepared. Unfortunately, he’d never returned her pistol to her since the day in the Woods, but she possessed a wickedly sharp letter opener with a long, pointed blade.
They were promised to dine that evening at the Castlereaghs’. Esther considered crying off, but in the end, decided there was no need, since she would be back in plenty of time to keep her appointments at the Burgtheater and the Hofburg. On the whole, she preferred to have something to do—something other than this letter to her cousin in Scotland that she still struggled to take beyond the first page. And Juana definitely needed something to cheer her up. She had that listless look her in her eyes once more as she gazed out of the window, ignoring her needlework.
“I’ll ring for tea,” Esther said, rising from the desk just as Gretel came in and presented a card to her. Without much interest, she glanced at it, and immediately smiled with genuine pleasure. “Major Belling! Show him in, Gretel. And arrange tea, will you?”
Juana seemed about to break the habit of years and jump to her feet without cause. She subsided, twisting her hands together and casting a quick, almost anguished look at Esther.
“I knew he would come,” Esther crowed. “He has missed you, too.”
“You are a silly girl,” Juana said loftily. “Major Belling, how charming!” She had herself well in hand now, holding out one languid hand to her late husband’s closest friend, as if they’d last met only yesterday instead of six months ago.
The major, an upright man growing just a little stout as he approached middle years, beamed as he crossed the room to bow over her proffered fingers. His one eye gleamed with delight.
“Mrs. MacVey,” he said reverently. “You can’t imagine my pleasure to find you here. And you, Miss Lisle. I hope I find you both well? And the general?”
Esther made civil conversation for a few minutes before excusing herself to have a quick word with her father.
“You’ll never guess!” she said, as she found him alone with Lord Harry and a mountain of papers.
“Very true, my dear,” her father agreed.
“Major Belling is here in Vienna!” Esther said triumphantly.
The general blinked. “Well, there’s nothing wonderful in that, is there? I thought you invited him.”
“I did,” Esther admitted, “but I said nothing to Juana, just in case he didn’t come.”
“You shouldn’t interfere,” the general scolded.
“Interfere in what?” Lord Harry asked, looking from father to daughter in bafflement.
“Major Belling has a tender for Juana,” Esther confided. “In fact, he’s loved her for years, even when Captain MacVey was alive. The trouble was, the two men were such close friends that Belling never felt he could declare himself to his friend’s widow.”
“Until Esther put him up to it,” General Lisle said dryly, throwing down his pen and pushing back his chair. “And Juana turned the poor old chap down.”
“Only from misplaced duty to me,” Esther insisted. “I know she loves him. I see her staring into the distance sometimes and I just know she’s thinking of him.”
Her father regarded her much as he might some rare and not entirely pleasant new species of insect. “You don’t know any such thing! She could be thinking of MacVey, or her next siesta, or the new gown she wants and can’t afford! I don’t know where you get those romantic ideas, Esther—it’s not as if you apply them to your own life.”
Esther flushed, looking away. It came to her that her father neither knew nor cared how romantically attached she’d been to any of her fiancés, even Otto. To him, as to most of the world, marriage was strictly a matter of good sense and alliance and he couldn’t understand why anyone would raise any other motive above those things.
“I suppose it would be one less mouth to feed if she married him,” he said thoughtfully. “And you won’t need a chaperone once you and Otto are married, so there’s no objection there.”
“None,” she agreed faintly. Hopefully Juana would be safely married before he discovered Otto was dead. “In any case, surely I’m beyond the age of needing a chaperone.”
Her father scowled at her. “You’re one and twenty, not one and sixty! And in your position, a female companion will always be desirable.” He flung up his hands as she rounded on him. “But you’re right. It needn’t be Juana MacVey.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll take tea with you,” he announced, “and renew my acquaintance with Belling. Are you with us, Harry?”
“Indeed I am, if Miss Lisle permits?”
“As always, my lord,” she said, walking toward the door once more. She didn’t want to make Juana suspicious by leaving her alone with Belling for too long at this point.
Lord Harry sprinted ahead of her to open the door. “Forgive me for not yet sorting out that other matter,” he murmured, low. “I don’t believe my first solution will work, but I’m bending my whole mind to the problem.”
“Thank you,” Esther said, more than half of her own mind on Juana. “Let me know if you think of anything, but I may have solved it myself.”
A moment longer, he held the door closed while he smiled down at her. “You are rather wonderful, you know.”
Esther laughed, more with surprise than amusement. Harry leaned closer. “Miss Lisle,” he said with greater urgency.
“Niven, where’s that memorandum from Castlereagh?” the general demanded from across the room.
Lord Harry gave a fleeting, rueful smile as he opened the door for her. “We’ll talk later, I hope.”
“Of course,” Esther said, passing into the hall.
Behind her, Harry was pointing out papers on the general’s desk. Her own mind turned once more to the coming evening’s adventure.
*
Returning from dinner at the Castlereaghs’ that evening, she allowed Gretel to undress her, and then dismissed her, pretending she wished to read for a little in the lamp light. Her mind was certainly racing, for quite aside from her assignation, suspicions about Otto’s disappearance had begun to circulate. She’d heard Lord Castlereagh himself ask her father about him, and one group of ladies had immediately changed the conversation when Esther approached them. Whatever was going on, Garin couldn’t keep the secret of the prince’s death much longer. She needed to speak to him.
She dressed once more in the old dress and veiled hat of this morning, donned the thick cloak and, after an internal struggle, picked up the reticule before slipping out of her chamber. On the way past Juana’s door, she paused to listen to the comforting sound of snoring, before she went on her way. She hoped Juana was dreaming of her Major Belling.
The Burgtheater was right next to the Hofburg, and not a comfortable place for a lady alone to lurk in the shadows. Esther wished her new friend had been a little more specific about the meeting place so that she didn�
�t need to walk around so much and fend off amorous officers. One Austrian was so persistent, that she ended up snapping a most improper phrase at him.
Muttering an oath, he strode off at last.
A muffled laugh came from behind Esther, causing her to spin around in fresh alarm. “I didn’t realize you had such a command of our language,” said her friend of this morning, taking her arm and drawing her toward the side of the building.
“Oh, it’s you,” Esther said in relief. “Actually, I’m not perfectly sure what it means, but it sounded nasty. I never knew gentlemen could be so rude—and I was brought up in an army!”
“Well, if you’re not a lady, Fraulein, you’re fair game to men. And no one here expects you to be a lady.”
“You mean you have to put up with that all the time?”
The girl laughed. “Fraulein, there are worse things we put up with.”
“Are we going inside?”
“Yes. I’ve got the girls to lend you a costume and it’s wonderful! Or at least it will be if we can make it fit.”
Intrigued, Esther followed her across a dark hall and down a dimly lit passage to a room where two women appeared to be arguing over a dress with so many rows of frills that it seemed to be alive. As one, they threw it aside as she and Josephine entered.
Josephine spun out of her cloak and Esther’s mouth fell open as she realized the girl wore black pantaloons and a well-fitting, double-breasted coat over a crisp white shirt and an intricately tied snowy cravat.
“Exactly,” Josephine said, apparently pleased with this reaction. “And just look what we have for you. This is Mimi and Renate by the way…”
“How do you do,” Esther said politely, trying not to sound as bemused as she felt when the two women held up an ornately braided military uniform. “For me?” she squeaked.
“How do you think we get past the palace guards when the Emperor’s guests are meant to be respectable?”
Esther’s breath caught on slightly shocked laughter. “Oh, my. Do you mean I can swagger in there like an officer in his cups?”
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