Metternich nodded. “Indeed. Saturday next.”
“Well then. Have the name cards switched at the last moment so that she sits right next to you at the supper table. Then she is forced to talk to you, and you use the opportunity to clear the air.”
Metternich stared. “Such a simple solution?”
“Sometimes, simple solutions are the best.”
“That is…brilliant advice!” He jumped up and walked about. “Truly. I wouldn’t have thought of this myself, Highness.”
“Well, there it is, then. When it comes to arranging marriages, you may be the grand master of them all, but I daresay I also know a little about the workings of the female heart. Sometimes simpler is better. Possibly fewer missives and presents, but something more heartfelt, honest instead.”
“Something heartfelt and honest. What on earth could that possibly be?”
“I don’t know.” Klemens shrugged impatiently. Didn’t he have a conversation suspiciously like this with his friend Aldingbourne? Who was rather desperately attempting to court his own wife, who, due to a cruel twist of fate, had forgotten all about him? What was it with these highly intelligent men that when it came to courting women, they were suddenly so hopelessly inept? “Use your imagination. A small daisy may move a heart more than a grand bouquet of roses.”
Metternich stared at him with a half-open mouth. “That is astounding advice, Your Imperial Highness. Simpler is indeed better. Daisies! I shall see whether I can get a bouquet of daisies…”
Klemens threw up his hands. “Yes, do that. By all means! Do not let the fact that winter is almost upon us deter you from this quest. Now, what I really came here to discuss with you…”
Metternich nodded and leaned forward. “Yes. Tell me. I am all ears.”
Klemens rubbed his neck. “It also concerns a woman.”
“Naturally. You are here, of course, to talk about Fräulein Philippa Cranwell, daughter of the famous Professor Basil Cranwell, with whom you have been studying every summer these past few years. She is now employed as your chambermaid, or was until recently, when she became the companion of your twin sister.” A slight smile played about his lips. “She is also the woman you love. A shame I never participated in the wagers. I would have won them all.”
Klemens fell back into his seat. “How-how did you know all that?” He thought he’d been careful to keep his affairs a secret. It had all been to no avail, apparently.
“My dear Archduke, there is very little I do not know. My spies are everywhere. Your Pippa may also have inadvertently given herself away. It is irrelevant how I came upon this intelligence.” He waved a hand dismissively. “And did I know you had been studying with ProfessorCranwell these past five years during the summer? Of course I did. Astronomy and what was it again? Mathematics and natural sciences, I believe. One would not believe that Prince Lucifer harbours such secret intellectual passions.”
Klemens stared at him as if he were a magician who’d pulled a rabbit out of his hat.
“Did I know she came to Vienna to look for you? Of course I did.” He nodded to himself. “The innkeeper at theGoldene Lammhad specific instructions to notify us as soon as she appeared. And August—an agent in the employ of the secret police—had instructions to hire her for the palace. You may thank me for that favour later. For only God knows what would have happened to her if we had not caught her when we did.”
Klemens leaned forward. “You knew the entire time who she was and what she was to me, yet you never said anything?”
“I have my reasons, naturally. I also wanted to see what she was up to, out of what cloth she was cut. A daughter of a notorious radical?” He pulled a face. “One needs to keep an eye on such a person. Particularly if she is becoming entangled with an archduke and attempting to convert him to her radical views. You know we quench anything that has even the tiniest whiff of the revolutionary about it. It is dangerous.”
“Nonsense. She is not a revolutionary. And you know me well enough to know that I am neither easily influenced, nor do I harbour any such sympathies. I may have studied with the professor, but that does not mean I followed his creed.”
Metternich waved him away. “Yes, yes. She said the same at her interrogation at thePolizeihofamttoday. She was quite emphatic about it, too. A veritable spitfire. Courageous, loyal to a fault,” he meditated. “And an excellent liar. In short, a most excellent spy.”
Klemens sat up. “What?”
“You must have known I recruited her to spy on you, of course.”
Klemens waved him away. “You had her interrogated?”
“Not on my orders. I was informed after the fact. I was most displeased to hear of it. I do not approve of cutthroat practices, prison, torture and the like. It is not gentlemanly. It is information that I want. Alas, Von Hager got suspicious of her, since he did not know that I had recruited her as my personal spy. He is, I must say, for my taste too diligent, which results in us being too frequently at cross-purposes. We do not always see eye to eye, he and I. He deemed it imperative to investigate Fräulein Cranwell since several forbidden items of literature were found in her possession.” Metternich listed the titles, which Klemens recognised as belonging to him. He narrowed his eyes. “Since she was also seen depositing secret missives that she intended for me, but that were misinterpreted, she naturally found herself at the centre of the interrogation.”
“What happened to her?”
“Nothing. She was released. I tend to agree with you that she is not a revolutionary.”
“Well, thank heavens for that,” Klemens replied testily.
Metternich regarded him, tracing his upper lip with one finger. “I wonder why on earth you would insist on marrying her given her spectacularly unsuitable background? Why not take the simple path and just make her your mistress?”
“Because, Prince, contrary to you, I am entirely incapable of having a relationship with more than one woman at a time. Particularly if I happen to love only one of them.”
