He shook his head. “No. But I know she believes I am not serious enough, that I lack responsibility and proper feeling.”
I rolled my eyes heavenwards. “And your idea of how to change that is to gamble and disport yourself with disreputable people?”
He turned to Stoker. “Does she always speak so plainly?”
Stoker shrugged. “No. In fact, she is being rather polite just now. You are quite fortunate she has not told you what she really thinks.”
The duke put down his glass and laced his fingers across his flat stomach. “Very well. What do you really think?”
“I think you are entirely pathetic,” I told him serenely. “You are gifted by nature with intelligence and ability and remarkable good looks and yet you cannot be bothered to lift a finger for anyone besides yourself. You have allowed indolence and bad company to influence you to do nothing more interesting than play baccarat and wager on horses, which makes you dull in the extreme. Not only do I not blame the princess for hesitating to betroth herself to you, I applaud her for her lucky escape.”
He gaped at me, his complexion purpling once more. “No one has ever dared speak to me in such a fashion.”
“You did ask,” I reminded him. “And I am not finished. I have not even begun to express my feelings on the abject weakness of character that would cause a man to play vicious pranks upon the woman he professes to love.”
“That was not my fault!” he exclaimed, thumping his thighs with his fists. “It was the devil to whom I owe money. He owns a casino in Deauville and I made promises to him—promises I would have been able to keep if Gisela had announced our betrothal.”
“But she has not and so this blackguard instructed you to bring terror to bear upon the princess in order to shock her into marriage.”
He covered his face with his hands for a long moment, and whenhe dropped them, the rage seemed to fall away. “I was drunk, very, very drunk. And I had lost a great deal of money. And I had quarreled with Gisela yet again about making our engagement official. I had done a favor for her—a very large favor. And she had given her word she would make the announcement. But when the time came, she did not. The reasons are not important, but I felt she had failed me. I took myself off to Deauville to have a good carouse to exorcise my feelings. I lost, heavily. They took me into the office of the owner of the casino and we had a little discussion,” he said, his lips twisting in distaste. “I cannot tell you how much I hated myself in that moment. A Duke of Lokendorf reduced to sitting with such a fellow, asking him for his forbearance! Supplicating, like a beggar. It was his idea to play these pranks upon Gisela, but I agreed and that fault is mine,” he said. There was sorrow in his eyes, and for the first time, I felt I saw the real character of the man.
“The favor you did for Gisela,” I said gently. “Was it to conceal her relationship with Alice Baker-Greene?”
Astonishment flickered in his eyes before he dropped his gaze. “I do not know what you mean,Fraulein. Gisela barely knew the woman.”
“They were lovers,” Stoker said. “We have seen evidence. A sketch in Alice’s own hand.”
Maximilian groaned. “I beg you, do not share this information. Whatever you think of me, and I understand it is very little, believe me when I tell you that Gisela does not deserve to be ruined for this.”
“We have no intention of ruining your princess,” I told him firmly. “Her private affections are none of our concern. But her whereabouts and Alice Baker-Greene’s murder are.”
He leveled his gaze at me. “Alice Baker-Greene fell off the Teufelstreppe.”
“After her rope was cut,” Stoker put in. “Furthermore, you knowthat is what happened because why else go to the Curiosity Club and steal the rope if not to remove evidence of the crime?”
He was silent a long moment. “I think I am tired now,” he said. “And this interview is at an end.”
“Did you cut that rope?” I demanded. “Did you kill Alice to eliminate your rival for Gisela’s affections? She was the obstacle to your marriage, was she not? Murdering her would have opened the way for you. Did you take it?”
“I did not,” he said, clipping the words sharply. “She was my friend. And whatever you think of me, I am no murderer.”
“But you might be an accomplice,” Stoker suggested.
The duke shied in his chair. “What do you mean?”
“He means that you and Gisela stole the rope from the club—rope that proves Alice was murdered. You helped her do it and you helped her get out of London,” I said.
He gaped at me. “You think Gisela killed her? For what reason?”
“I met Alice several months before her death,” I told him. “She was incandescently happy. She told me about moving to the Alpenwald, how she meant to make her permanent home there. And she was a very strong woman. If Gisela had wanted to break things off with her, turn her out of the Alpenwald, Alice would not have gone quietly. She would have stood her ground and made it impossible for you and Gisela to have married and begun a life together. Would that have been a happy life, do you think? Hochstadt is a very small city. You would have constantly seen Alice—a ghost of Gisela’s former life—and a liability if she ever chose to share her damnable story. You would never have been secure, not until she died.”
He listened in rapt attention, then burst out laughing until he wiped his eyes. “Oh,Fraulein. Whatever becomes of us all, I do hope you will take to writing stories. You have a prodigious imagination.”
He poured another glass of brandy and it was clear he intended to say no more. Before we left, I tried one final tack.
“Where did Gisela go that night?” I asked.
For a long minute, I thought he would refuse to answer, but at last he replied. “She did not tell me, I swear it.”
