“It’s because of the congress,” the woman who had overheard their conversation chipped in, shifting her basket from one hip to the other. “They’ve become stricter. Too many people are flooding into the city. In the past, all you had to do was to slip a coin into his hand. But now it’s impossible.” She sighed. “I don’t have any papers either. But hopefully my sister, who works at an inn, can come to identify me.”
“What happens if you can’t get identified?” Pippa knew absolutely noone in the city.
“Then you have a big problem,” the blacksmith said darkly.
ChapterTwo
“Lindenstein, my dear friend,”Julius Stafford-Hill, Duke of Aldingbourne, said, a rare smile lighting up his normally austere face. “I scarcely dared hope you’d be the first to greet me in Vienna. I have not yet brushed the dust from my boots, for the journey from England was long and infernally tedious.” Then he straightened himself into formality and made a stiff bow. “It is an honour, Your Imperial Highness.”
A tall, slim man with a head full of unruly blond curls stepped forward with an extended hand. “No ceremony with me,mein Freund. You never stood on it before, and I won’t have you begin now. I endure enough of that from others day-in and day-out. I cannot bear it from you.” He drew him forward into a firm embrace. “It is good to see you, old friend.”
Aldingbourne returned the embrace with warmth. “Yet I am here not as a private man, as surely you know. I’m part of Castlereagh’s delegation, and as a representativeof the British government, I must, from now on, weigh every word addressed to you.”
Lindenstein released him and gave him an inquisitive look. “But surely not in private?”
The duke regarded Lindenstein, a faint smile playing about his lips. “Not many know that my old childhood friend Lindenstein is Archduke Leopold Klemens Alexander, the youngest son of Emperor Francis. Your guise held well throughout the years.”
“I’ve become rather good at disguising myself. And I mean for it to hold, still. Especially now, of all times.”
Aldingbourne’s gaze flicked toward the closed door, where a British footman stood guard. “In Vienna, they say even the walls have ears. I had the staff here replaced and vetted through the British consulate, and I trust them as much as one may. Even so, one never knows. Metternich has turned this city into a nest of spies.”
“Ah yes. Good old ‘Herr System,’” Lindenstein said with a dry laugh. “Forever tightening his net of rules and police. He has always been suspicious of everything and everyone, but never so intent on collecting secrets as now. I dare say he knows of my other identity.” He shrugged and strolled over to the set of silken yellow fauteuils that stood in front of the fireplace.
“You’ll have to be more cautious in the future and not walk into my mansion like that in broad daylight. I daresay Metternich has already been informed that you’re here in my drawing room.”
“I took several detours; a pretty trip through the entire city, and I’m certain I lost whoever followed me on the Hohe Markt. Then I slipped in through the servants’entrance.” Lindenstein was dressed in a simple, unassuming brown suit that would have allowed him to merge easily with the people on the street. His blond hair had been partly covered by a hat, which the butler had taken.
“Your sister? Is she well?” he enquired.
“Evie is as well as she could be. Insisted on accompanying me here. I couldn’t talk her out of it. She is out exploring the city,” Aldingbourne replied.
Lindenstein sat and pulled both hands through his tousled hair. “The next few weeks will be hellish,” he muttered. “All these soirees, meetings, cabinets, and whatnot.”
Aldingbourne stepped to the sideboard and poured a glass of whisky and handed him the glass. “Since when have you become so political that this would concern you? The Emperor’s youngest son has quite a different reputation.” He lifted the glass to salute him.
Lindenstein returned the greeting and downed the content in one shot. He shuddered. “Scottish? There’s nothing as vile and simultaneously wonderful as Scotch whisky. It’s a rare drop to be found on this continent.”
“I brought several casks along with me. I’ll gift you one.” He poured him another glass. “But now, tell me why you look so troubled. I gather it’s not Metternich, nor is it the infernal congress. For both of us know you don’t give a hoot about any of the politics.”
Lindenstein heaved a deep sigh and leaned back. “I’m in deep waters, and I don’t know the way out.”
Aldingbourne sat across from him and leaned forward. “Your father?”
Lindenstein laughed bitterly. “Who else?”
“What’s he asking of you now?”
“To marry the Grand Duchess Irina Tatjana Alexandrovna Romanova. Yesterday, if possible.” He looked at him with despair. “To strengthen the political ties to Russia, or so they say. So you can see, I am deeply involved with politics after all. I’m tangled up to my neck in it, and my entire life threatens to be strangled.”
“I see,” Aldingbourne replied dryly, and there was sympathy flickering in his eyes.
“Do you truly? Surely you know why I cannot do that?”
Aldingbourne set down his whisky glass on the table carefully before replying. “I gather a certain lady is still in the picture. Are your affections for her truly that strong that you would risk not only a conflict with your father but also a diplomatic scandal on the international stage?”
Lindenstein rubbed his eyebrow and sighed.
Aldingbourne leaned forward with a frown. “But back to what you mentioned earlier regarding a certain Russian Grand Duchess. If I were to sum up the situation, what you’re saying is that the Emperor intends to court Britain on the public stage, yet behind the curtain intends to strengthen the links to Russia through familial ties. In short: he’s playing a double game.” He tapped a long finger on the table. “That’s good to know.”
