Wilhelmine, the Duchess of Sagan, was one of the most popular society hostesses in Vienna. She was also said to be the not-so-secret reason Metternich was having sleepless nights these days, as he was terribly in love with her and did not even make a secret of it. Pippa could not, for the life of her, imagine Metternich ever being in love with someone. Particularly not with someone like her. What on earth did he see in her? Or, for that matter, she in him? It was a mystery.
“Indeed?” the Archduchess said, amusement lacing her voice. “What an interesting theory. Pippa, would you pour me some more tea, please?”
Pippa picked up the teapot and poured some into the Archduchess’ teacup, meeting her gaze. Mimi’s eyes brimmed over with laughter, while Pippa did as she requested. The ladies had accepted her presence as Mimi’s companion and not given her a second glance. Which was just as well.
But really. Those tea parties were turning out to betediously dull, and singularly focused on only one topic: that of Archduke Leopold and his secret love. Pippa’s jaw tightened.
“He was sulking the entire evening yesterday during the concert,” Lady Emily said pensively. “I should know because I sat right next to him, of course. The poor dear. It took all my might not to pat his arm to console him.” She leaned forward to inspect the tray of eclairs, then decided on one, even though she had already had two. “I wonder who she might be?” she repeated for the tenth time within the hour, as she bit into an eclair that she held between two fingers. “I heard she might be from my country. A British lady.” She wrinkled her nose. “Even though they are few and far between. I can count the British ladies on one hand, and all of them are married. It is a great mystery.”
“Yes.” The Archduchess leaned back, playing with her pearl necklace, as she gave Pippa a smile. “Who might she possibly be? Pippa here is of British descent, by the by.”
All heads turned to Pippa, who cursed inwardly at the Archduchess. She forced a smile.
“Oh, are you?” Lady Castlereagh said and dusted the sugar from her fingers. “How delightful. You must come and visit us one day, then. Castlereagh will be delighted to greet yet another of our folk. He is very patriotic, you know.”
Pippa muttered a thanks, averted her eyes and fidgeted in her chair.
“It could just be a rumour.” The Duchess of Sagan refused to be side-tracked and returned with single-minded determination to the original topic. “To help him get out of the engagement with the Russian Grand Duchess. It would be a clever ploy. I heard the gentlemen are placing wagers on who it is. I have some wagers placed on my head as well.” Her laugh was tinkly and bright. “Which is of course utter nonsense.”
“My dear Wilhelmine,” said Lady Castlereagh. “Nonsense? Now I find that hard to believe.” Then she looked up and her face brightened. “Speaking of the devil. How charming that he has put in an appearance.”
Pippa’s head whipped around to see Klemens hovering by the door.
“Ah. I see I intrude.” He smiled so charmingly that she caught her breath. “I intended to call on my sister, but I appear to be barging into a lady’s tea circle.”
“Klemens!” Mimi’s face brightened. “Do join us. We were gossiping terribly about you. Now there is no need, as you are here personally to supply us with the latest news.” She jumped up and drew her brother into the room.
“No, no.” He laughed, fending her off. “I really do not want to disturb—” At this his eyes fell on Pippa, who remained sitting in her chair, straight and stiff as a lamp pole. “On the other hand, how can one resist such charming company?”
He allowed Mimi to draw him to the table, and laughing, he made the rounds, bowing over each lady’s hand to kiss it. “Küss die Hand,” he said, flirting outrageously with each lady, which was received with much reciprocated flirtation andgiggling.
Only Pippa refused to extend her hand when he finally reached her.
“Ah. And who have we here, pray?”
She got up from her seat, and made a formal curtsy, murmuring, “Your Imperial Highness,” and sat down again.
Mimi waved an airy hand. “My newest companion, Fräulein Philippa Cranwell. Do behave, Klem, and leave her alone. She is my personal treasure, and I count myself lucky to have found her in times like these, when it is so difficult to find a reliable and trustworthy companion.”
“A treasure, you say?” He sat in a chair opposite her, leaned back and appraised her lazily. “But how delightful.”
Pippa felt herself growing hot under his gaze. She found it altogether too intense and ardent, and surely the ladies present would soon realise that he was staring at her in quite an unusual manner. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and wished herself a hundred miles away.
“True, true,” Lady Castlereagh put in. “We too find ourselves hard pressed to find trustworthy servants. And I must confess I have not found my domestic treasure yet.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “Castlereagh had to dismiss the entire lot because they were said to spy for Metternich. How excessively tedious it has been to rehire new ones, I tell you.”
“But let us not talk about something so tedious as domestics,” the soft lilt of Wilhelmine of Sagan put in, “not when we have more fascinating food for discussion sitting right here with us at the table. Your ImperialHighness.” She batted her eyelids at Klemens in such an exaggerated, affected manner of flirtation that Pippa had to bite her lips to prevent herself from laughing out loud. “Do tell us why they call you Archduke Leopold, yet your sister addresses you as Klemens? Why is that?”
He smiled as he took the teacup that Mimi handed him. “Few know the true reason, Duchess. It is a well-guarded secret indeed.” He leaned forward, one corner of his lips lifting sardonically. “Would you like to be one of the few insiders who knows the truth behind it?”
She leaned forward, looking deeply into his eyes. “Oh yes, tell, please!”
“Very well.” His steady gaze bored into hers. “Because, my dear duchess…” He paused.
“Yes?” she breathed, two spots of red appearing in her cheeks.
Pippa was torn between annoyance and amusement. Goodness, what a terrible flirt he was! But did the poor duchess not realise he was wrapping her around his little finger?
“Because…” He took a sip of tea, set down the cup and sighed. “Because it is my name, of course.”
