“Because I thought I just saw someone who looked remarkably like you riding with Emperor Francis at the parade of the emperors—but you are right, it must be a figment of my imagination, a trick of the mind.” Theo continued to stare at him with bulging eyes. “I must most definitely be wrong. Members of the imperial family don’t just turn up in our cramped little drawing room and drink coffee with Mama as though they’d been best friends for ten years or more.” Theo collapsed into the chair as though his knees would give way.
“You are absolutely correct. They would never in their wildest dreams think of doing that, they would never stoop so low, they are far too proud and arrogantto do so; so let us all agree that I can’t possibly be who you think I am.” Lindenstein crossed his arms over his chest.
Lena looked from one to the other, a puzzled frown on her forehead. “I have no idea who you are talking about, Theo. This is Lindenstein. An old friend—of, er, the Duke of course.”
Lindenstein pointed his fingers at the three boys who were still gaping at him. “And these are your sons? My arithmetic may be bad, but I don’t think it’s that bad. How can you be his mother? You would have been about five or six years old to give birth to that one.” He pointed at Theo.
Theo jumped up again and made a crooked bow. “Allow me, Your Imperial Highn?—”
Lindenstein broke out into a loud coughing fit, drowning out Theo’s words.
“Theophil Arenheim is my name, son of Doctor Simon Arenheim, musician and keen student of medicine. Helena Arenheim is our chosen mother. That rascal over there is Hector Arenheim, and the one with the glasses and the hair like a hedgehog is Achilles. Make your bows,” he hissed to the boys, who followed suit and bowed crookedly.
Lindenstein waved them away. “Yes, yes, no need to bow. There is no need for ceremony. Back to what really matters.” He turned to Lena. “How did you become their mother?”
“It’s because Mama has lost her memory, you see,” Les explained.
“That explains everything, of course.” Lindensteinnodded solemnly as though all was crystal clear. Theo told him the story.
“I vow, the drama in this household is more interesting than anything they could put on in the Burgtheater. Fascinating! Catherine, who is now the fair Helena. Poor Aldingbourne.” He shook his head. “I suppose that explains why he’s been beside himself lately.”
Lena perked up. “He has? In what way?”
“He seems rather distracted. Aldingbourne and distracted! I never thought I’d say those two words in the same sentence, but there it is. Watching him work is painful. He sits down, reads for five minutes, jumps up, paces, sits down again, jumps up again…it is extremely tiring. I immediately suspected it was a woman.” Lindenstein grinned at Lena. “But when I dared to suggest it to him, he nearly tore off my head. Say, what have you got there?” He walked over to Les, who’d pulled out a handful of marbles and started playing on the carpet. “I haven’t played marbles since I was your age.” There was a note of longing in his voice. “May I join you?” He dropped to his knees beside the boy.
“Yes, but no cheating.” Les told him severely.
“What, me? I never cheat,” Lindenstein said, and promptly started to cheat. Hector and Theo joined in and soon everyone was crawling on the floor.
Lena shook her head and stepped out to bring some more fresh chicory coffee.
Just then, the Duke returned and handed her the stockings.
“Well met, Aldingbourne,” Lindenstein said cheerfully as he snapped a marble with two fingers,but it missed its target. He groaned as the boys cheered. “I seem to have lost. Would you care to join us for another round?”
Aldingbourne demurred. “Why are you here?”
“To visit your lovely wife.” Lindenstein stood and dusted his trousers. “And to meet your children.” He grinned. “They are your children now, aren’t they? Lucky fellow.”
Lena’s gaze snapped over to the Duke, but he neither confirmed nor denied the statement, instead proceeding to busy himself with pouring a glass of wine from the decanter on the sideboard. “A drink, Lindenstein?”
The children played another round of marbles while the men sat in front of the fireplace discussing the political topic of the day. Theo sat between them, flushed with happiness to be included in their debate.
She watched the three men, absorbed in their conversation. The light from the fire reflected in the Duke’s hair with golden-orange glints. As he spoke, his face moved in animation, a slight smile crossing it as he watched Hector, his face softening.
She made up her mind not to tell him.
It was simply better that way.
As if sensing her observation, he looked up and their gazes locked. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Her stomach flipped. A very old, very familiar shyness crept over her.
In the past, she would have blushed and looked away and spent the remaining evening in a corner, blindly plunging her needle into a piece of embroidery, yearning to talk to him but being afraid to.
No.
She was no longer that Catherine.
She was Lena now.
