“He has a reputation for doing that, indeed.” Hartenberg did not take his eyes off the prince. “One has heard of you calling out Tsar Alexander. Or was it the Tsar calling you out? Over a woman, as I recall.”
Evie snorted into her coffee and converted it hastily into a cough.
Metternich held the glare a moment longer, then averted his gaze and smiled suavely at Evie. “It is quite true.Alas. Beautiful women are my Achilles’ heel.” He rose, took her hand, and held her gaze as he kissed it. “Lady Evangeline. Your future husband and I rarely see eye to eye, but I daresay that does not mean you and I cannot get along.”
Hartenberg growled.
“Ich empfehle mich.”And with those words, he left.
Evie looked after him. “I do not quite know what to make of that man. Charming, to be sure, but not quite honest, I think.” She turned to Hartenberg. “I would not tell him a thing, if I were you. He seems duplicitous.”
Hartenberg nodded solemnly. “Indeed. Who could have known? That is wise advice indeed.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You are mocking me.”
He sobered. “A little. But what was it you were about to say before we were rudely interrupted?”
Evie had indeed been about to ask him whether he had heard of the Widows’ Circle. She was now glad Metternich had intervened. Hartenberg would have pressed her on where she had heard of them, and sooner or later she would have let slip her encounter with the widow earlier that morning. No, it was better this way. She had learned something of what she needed without having to lie for it.
The Widows’ Circle was dangerous. A profound sense of unease went through her.
What was she to do?
To guarantee Julius’s safety, she had agreed to play along, but it did not sit well with her at all.
Hartenberg was watching her face closely. He took her hand and played with her fingers, sending sparks up her arm and down her spine.
“You know that if you were ever in any trouble, you could trust me with it?” His voice was quiet. “Always.”
She looked up, surprised.
Granite man.
He was indeed like a rock of steadfastness in a storm.
Could she trust Hartenberg with it?
Something warred within her. On one hand, she wanted nothing more than to tell him. On the other, caution held her back. He did not tread lightly in matters of espionage or disloyalty. He believed spies should be shot for treason, he’d said so. Should he ever discover Julius was involved, it would break not only their friendship, but the alliance of two nations.
No, it was better to keep quiet, at least until she discovered how much truth was behind this entire matter.
So she summoned a sunny smile. “Not at all. Now. Should we have anotherApfelstrudel, or take a turn in the Prater?”
Chapter Eighteen
The Embassy balltook place at a glamorous palais in the Minoritenplatz, where the English delegation had settled. Rumours circulated that Castlereagh’s first residence had consisted of fourteen rooms and been deemed unsatisfactory, and he’d moved to this current baroque palais in central Vienna, with twenty-two rooms. This provided much gossip to the Viennese.
“How many rooms can a man and his wife possibly need?” they complained.
Well, it wasn’t just for himself and his wife, as it turned out, but also for his brother Lord Stewart, the English ambassador, in addition to the entire delegation that had accompanied Lord and Lady Castlereagh, with the exception of Aldingbourne, who had rented his own palais.
The baroque banquet hall glittered with white stucco on the ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and gilded mirrors. Everyone had been invited and it appeared the entire Congress was in attendance.
Evie stepped with trepidation up the thick, red carpet on the staircase to the ballroom, flanked by herbrother and his wife, Catherine, as well as Clara, still pale from her recent bout of measles, who had decided she felt well enough to join just until the announcement. Evie was wearing a cream silken dress with a delicately embroidered gold overdress, her hair brushed up with a few feathers. At the top of the stairs, a dashing gentleman in gala uniform was waiting: white and red, under his arm the tricorn. He stepped forward and saluted.
She did not immediately recognise him as Hartenberg, and when she finally did, her eyes widened. Good heavens. She’d certainly known that he was good looking, but when he was truly primped and spruced up… His eyes roved appreciatively over her, and she realised she did not look half bad herself.
“She is all yours.” Julius gave him a curt nod. “I owe you my thanks for taking her off my hands. Good luck, dear chap, for she is a handful.”
