The blond boy grinned, raised his mug and drank deeply, not wiping the foam from his mouth, never taking his eyes off him. “English?”
“Yes.”
“That would explain it.”
“Explain what?”
“Why you’re sitting there all stiff and straight as if you’d swallowed a steel pole.”
The older boy looked him up and down with narrowed eyes, a cigar still dangling from his mouth. “Georg von Hartenberg.” He lifted his chin to the blond boy. “My cousin Lindenstein.”
“Just Lindenstein?” Julius enquired.
“Just Lindenstein,” he confirmed, his teeth still clenching the cigar.
“How do you do.” Julius nodded at them both.
“Do you play Faro, Drayton?” Lindenstein smiled beatifically at him.
“I do,” he lied.
They’d fleeced him quite spectacularly. In the end, Hartenberg had clapped a hand on his back and declared him a good loser. The next morning, Julius had left his tutor at the inn and gone to Innsbruck with them. He’d been delighted by Lindenstein’s wit and daring, and Hartenberg’s dry humour and courage. By the end of the week, the three had sworn eternal friendship and blood brotherhood, and to top it all, Julius had promised Hartenberg his sister Evie’s hand in marriage.
“How old is she?” Hartenberg enquired.
“Almostfive.”
Hartenberg seemed to think for a moment. “Very well, then. We’ll tie the knot in twenty years, brother.”
“Don’t you want to know whether she’s beautiful?” Julius couldn’t help asking.
“No. She’s your sister. That means she’s not a doormat. That’s all that matters to me.”
That was all that was said on the subject.
Julius sighed. How long ago that was. The years had passed, they weren’t boys anymore, but their friendship had withstood time and distance and they were as close to each other as ever. Like brothers, they guarded each other’s secrets with their lives.
Metternich still watched him closely. “I am, of course, particularly interested in Lindenstein, as you call him. We all know who he really is, do we not?”
Julius stiffened. He would only reveal that secret over his dead body. “What about Lindenstein?”
“There’s been considerable upheaval, I hear, involving the father. Quite shocking, really. The father-son relationship is not the best, I find. There was much shouting, swearing, and slamming of doors.” He leaned forwards curiously. “Surely you have heard of it?”
“I don’t listen to gossip,” Julius said stiffly.
“It involves, as usual, a woman.”
Julius shrugged. “What’s new? Who isn’t involved with a woman these days? What about your own amorous relations with the Duchess—or is it Princess? Or both? You should have heeded my wife’s advice.”
Metternich grimaced. “Don’t remind me. I have had many sleepless nights because of that.” He sighed deeply. “But let us not change the subject. You do not happen toknow the identity of the woman in question? I have my suspicions, but I must confess, it has been maddeningly difficult to discover the identity of the lady who has captured Lindenstein’s heart. She must be someone quite impressive.”
“I do not know.”
“Somehow, I do not believe you. I suspect an Englishwoman…” His words trailed off.
But Julius’ face remained blank.
“As for your own domestic affairs, I see that you have them in good order.” The Prince patted Julius on the shoulder, and it took all his effort not to flinch at the touch.
