Hager unfolded the missive, lifted his quizzing glass, and read the message.
“Highness, the gentleman in question is showing a marked affection for the Black Poppy.”
In the end, Pippa had told Metternich the truth. But she would not make it easy for him.
The Black Poppy being herself, of course. Poppy was a nickname her papa had given her, and she had added ‘Black’ to make it sound a bit more mysterious, possibly referring to her hair colour. Those were all the clues she was willing to give them.
No one would know it was her.
Or would they?
, A feeling of unease crept over Pippa at the narrowed eyes of Hager and the grim set of August’s jaw.
“To whom did you address this missive? It was not to me, unless I have been, unbeknownst to myself, elevatedinto the rank of royalty.” A mere baron was not exactly addressed as ‘Highness.’
Pippa shrugged. Surely there was no harm in telling him it was Metternich? He was his superior, after all.
“Prince Metternich, of course.”
Hager banged both hands on the table, making her jump. “You lie. You expect me to believe this was meant for Prince Metternich? More likely, the Tsar. Or if not that, a French connection! King Louis the eighteenth.”
Pippa blinked. “Who?”
“The gentleman in question being a Jacobin prince flirting with revolutionary tendencies who eyes the French throne,” Hager added grimly.
“And the Black Poppy,” mused August, “of course represents blood, death, secrecy, revolution, anarchy. Everything associated with the Jacobins.”
Pippa’s jaw dropped. “It is no such thing!”
“Fräulein Cranwell.” Hager looked at her sternly. “Are you not aware that any expression of sympathy towards Jacobinism is treasonous? Any expression of radicalism in any form or manner is considered to be conspiracy against the state. Tell her what happened at the last purge.” He nodded at August.
August cleared his throat. “A Jacobin conspiracy was discovered in the army, of all places. Everyone received their due punishment, with two officers being publicly executed: hanged and gibbeted.” He smirked. “It is the only way to make a statement. We have uprooted every nest of conspiracy since, with much success. But one finds they keep reappearing at the mostinopportune moments.”
Pippa paled.
“We do not take these things lightly, Fräulein. So, you must speak. If this is referring to an Austrian prince and his affiliations with the Jacobin group, we must know who it is so that appropriate action can be taken. If, otherwise, our interpretation is correct, and it refers to the French Jacobin connection, it will make you a French spy.”
“Good heavens,” Pippa whispered.
“Well?”
“What would happen if, say, this concerned an important person? Say, a prince, is the gentleman in question?” Pippa asked carefully.
“It would be a scandal beyond measure,” Hager said. “I do not even care to contemplate it. Particularly now, in the middle of the congress.” He shuddered. “It would bring shame over the entire imperial family, and he or she would be put under house arrest. The worst that could happen is exile.”
Pippa felt the blood drain from her face. Under no circumstances could she mention Klemens’ name, even if they had the connection to the Jacobins entirely wrong.
She shook her head vehemently. “You have completely misunderstood the reference. It does not refer to Jacobins at all. It really is a simple flower.”
“I have yet to run across a black poppy, Fräulein.”
“Surely you do not believe that with your father’s legacy, it could mean anything other than a reference to Jacobins?” Hager’s cold eyes bore into hers.
She began to sweat. “My father was a professor of natural sciences. He was not a Jacobin sympathiser.”
“Was he not? He called himself an Enlightened Radical. For which he was thrown out of the English court.”
“He was a Whig, sympathising with liberal ideas,” Pippa replied hotly. “He never approved of the anarchy and bloodshed of the revolution.”
