Borne in Blood (34 page)
Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #General, #Historical, #Horror, #Occult & Supernatural, #Guardian and Ward, #Vampires, #Nobility, #blood, #Paramours, #Switzerland
“And the leaders are Dragoon and Fusilier,” said Ragoczy, moving aside so that Rogier could bring out a few of their cases and baskets.
Three footmen were approaching from the Schloss, one dragging a low wagon for baggage. They came up to the coach and began to unload it while the grooms unhooked the team and led them away to the stable.
“I’ll come to check them shortly,” called out Charget to the grooms.
“They’ll be ready,” one of the grooms called back.
Behind the footmen came the steward, very dignified in his most formal daytime clothing. He offered Ragoczy a bow. “On behalf of the Graf von Ravensberg, you are most welcome here.”
“Thank you,” said Ragoczy, knowing it was expected.
“Five other guests are here before you. If you will accompany me, the servants and your man will see to the disposal of your bags.” It was rude to stare directly at a noble guest, so the steward directed his gaze over Ragoczy’s left shoulder. “They are assembled in the billiard-room.”
“It will be my honor to meet them,” said Ragoczy. “But I will need twenty minutes to change clothes. I would not want to expose von Ravensberg and his guests to all the grime of the road.”
The steward bowed. “As you wish. You will be taken to your room at once; I shall inform the guests that you will join them directly.”
“That will be much appreciated,” said Ragoczy, and signaled to Rogier. “I will meet you in the room.”
“Very shortly,” Rogier said as Ragoczy followed the steward into Ravensberg.
The Schloss was in the grand tradition of a century ago, and the current Graf had done his utmost to make the Schloss as splendid as he could. Ragoczy stood in the entry-hall that was flanked by two curving staircases that served to frame the great corridor leading into the Great Hall. Two suits of armor stood on either side of the staircases, and an elaborate chandelier in brass and crystal hung from the high ceiling; only four candles were lit at present, and small puddles of wax on the marble floor revealed that this was a customary courtesy.
“The servants’ stairs are in the back, and there is another interior staircase, as well.” The steward pointed to the gallery where the stairs met. “Edelfonsus will take you to your room.” He clapped his hands, and a young man in household livery came hurrying. “Comte Franciscus has arrived and wishes to change his clothes. He will be in the Rose Room, if you will take him there?”
Before Edelfonsus could speak, a burst of giggles came from the Great Hall, and Hyacinthie rushed forward. She was arrayed in a fashionable dress of fine-spun wool the color of lilacs, with a high neck decorated with a narrow lace ruff; from a neatly tied black ribbon on the corsage of her dress depended a small portrait of a young child. As she came up to Ragoczy she held out her hand and curtsied. “Welcome to Ravensberg, Comte. It is such a pleasure to see you again.”
“Fraulein,” said the steward, making it as much a reprimand as a servant could.
“Oh, I met the Comte in Amsterdam. I need not stand on ceremony with him, since he’s not a stranger. Need I?” This last was directly to Ragoczy.
Ragoczy kissed her hand. “It is a pleasure to see you, Fraulein, and to wish you happy.”
Aware that the servants were watching, Hyacinthie made a charming pout. “To give up my life to another so soon,” she said, and cast a mischievous glance at Ragoczy. “Mutze disapproves of me, don’t you, Mutze?”
“It is not for me to say, Fraulein,” the steward answered stiffly.
“But you don’t approve of this reception, not while Rosalie is still missing. You think we should have postponed the celebration, and so do I. But my uncle is determined.” She waggled her fingers at Edelfonsus. “Well, come on. Lead the way. I won’t go farther than the gallery.”
“I think it better that Edelfonsus take me up,” said Ragoczy. “I undoubtedly need a clean shirt and another pair of boots. I should improve my appearance altogether.”
Disappointed but unwilling to relinquish him, Hyacinthie said, “At least you came alone. That’s something.”
“Hardly alone: Rogier is with me, and a coachman and a footman as well.” He nodded to her as he began to ascend the stairs.
“Not that. Your friend isn’t with you.” The smile Hyacinthie offered was dazzling although her eyes remained cold.
“Ah. She is with her children at Scharffensee and will join me here in a few days,” said Ragoczy.
Hyacinthie resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “So soon?” She turned away.
“I expect so,” said Ragoczy, stopping so Edelfonsus could pass him and lead the way to the Rose Room.
“Will her children be with her?” She could not keep the anger completely out of her question, but the smile remained firmly affixed to her mouth.
“No, I think not,” said Ragoczy, wondering what the servants would make of their conversation.
“That’s something,” Hyacinthie murmured, and swung back around to look at Ragoczy. “You may decide to enjoy yourself while you’re here, Comte, without waiting for Madame.”
“I expect your uncle will entertain us all,” Ragoczy said at his most neutral as he reached the gallery. “I shall return directly.”
Hyacinthie curtsied. “I’ll be waiting.”
Ragoczy said nothing more as Edelfonsus guided him down the main corridor to another hallway, where he pointed to the three doors away from the tall, narrow windows.
“The second room is yours. The room beyond is for your manservant. One of us will take you to the Graf when you have readied yourself.”
“That is very good of you,” said Ragoczy, handing the young man a silver coin. “Will my manservant be up soon?”
“Five more minutes,” said Edelfonsus. “He is coming by the side-stairs—they’re the nearest.”
“Are other rooms in this corridor occupied?” Ragoczy asked, looking toward the third door.
“That is for your … companion. Upon her arrival.” Edelfonusus blushed and took a step back.
“Danke,” said Ragoczy, and went to the center door, trying the latch carefully before letting himself into the bedchamber allotted to him: it was a room of good size, with a neat fireplace taking up one corner. The bed was large with elaborate hangings in the color that gave the room its name, with a broad stool beside it to help him climb up into it. The carpet had a pattern of roses worked into it, the same shade as the hangings. Elaborate sconces with oil-lamps flanked the bed, and on the opposite wall there were two more sconces on either side of a tall mirror. The walls were paneled in oak but for the north-facing wall, which included a window-seat and three mullioned windows that provided the room with a fair amount of light. Ragoczy walked over to the windows, removing his Hungarian great-coat, and looked out into the small garden beneath, and the rising hillside to the east, all the while wondering what to do about the mirror, for he cast no reflection in it.
A tap at the door warned him that Rogier had arrived with his bags; he draped his great-coat over the end of the bench and sat down in the embrasure of the window-seat, calling out, “Enter.”
Rogier, in the company of two footmen, came into the chamber, took swift stock of it, then directed the servants to put the bags down away from the mirror. He gave each man a silver coin, saying, “You have done good service. I will attend to my own cases a little later; right now my master needs my assistance to dress for the evening.”
The two footmen hurried out of the room, afraid to be curious.
Once the door was closed, Ragoczy rose and came over to Rogier. “I trust you can do something about—” He gestured to the mirror. “Not that it is not very fine: it is. But I would rather not look at it; it is too disconcerting.”
“I have a sheet I can put over it.” Like all proper manservants, he carried changes of bed-linens when traveling, since many hostelries were not inclined to use the best bed-linens for their guests.
“If you are asked about it, what will you say?” Ragoczy unbuttoned his coat and began to remove it.
“Probably that you may misconstrue the reflection in this unfamiliar place and might damage the mirror. Since it is unquestionably valuable, I have taken this precaution.” His smile glinted and vanished.
“Excellent,” said Ragoczy, putting his coat on the bed and unfastening his cuffs. “I should change these, too. If you will get out a clean collar and cuffs, and the ruby cufflinks?”
Rogier had been unbuckling the straps on the largest trunk. “It shouldn’t take me long to find them. They’re in the middle drawer.”
Ragoczy tossed his cuffs on top of his coat. “The waistcoat seems all right.”
“For this evening, I should think so. I assume you want the black evening coat with the swallow-tail and the black-silk cravat?” Rogier asked as he pulled out the items in question. “And the dark-gray unmentionables.”
“Yes; and the Italian evening pumps.” He unfastened his cravat and it, too, was added to the clothes on the bed. As he reached for the discreetly frilled cuffs Rogier handed him, Ragoczy remarked as he put them, “Hyacinthie greeted me.”
“So I understand,” said Rogier. “The servants are abuzz about it.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Ragoczy said, and took the silver cufflinks Rogier held out to him.
By the time he left the Rose Room, some twenty minutes later, Ragoczy was elegantly arrayed for the evening. His appearance was all that could be wanted in good company in any city in Europe. Even his magnificent ruby stick-pin in his lapel was restrained and in excellent taste. His only other jewelry was his signet-ring marked with his eclipse device.
True to her word, Hyacinthie was waiting for him at the foot of the two curving stairways. “One would never think you had been in a coach for days on end,” she said in girlish approval. “In Amsterdam, you were always turned out perfectly.”
“Thank you, Fraulein. That is very generous of you.” He spoke quietly, aware that servants were watching.
Impulsively she reached out and took his arm. “Oh, I wish I were in Amsterdam again. Winter here is so dreary.”
“Winter in Amsterdam can be fairly wretched,” he said, “with storms pounding in off the North Sea.”
“But Amsterdam is exciting,” she protested winsomely. “It’s full of people, and things to do. Not like this place.”
“Then you must be looking forward to your marriage,” said Ragoczy as she escorted him into the billiard room. “Trier is an interesting place.”
“But to be married in order to achieve it,” she said as if this was the first time the thought had crossed her mind. “It is a hard bargain we women must make.” She smiled widely, in case she had offended him. “You brought another coachman.”
“Gutesohnes is driving Madame von Scharffensee. He will bring her here.” He slipped his arm out of her grasp as they neared the billiard room and the sound of conversation reached his ears.
The slight was a small one, Hyacinthie thought as she fell a step behind him; he should not have pulled away from her. It was a little thing, but she decided he would pay for it, and pay a high price. I will not be disregarded, she said to herself, and followed Ragoczy into the billiard room where the guests were waiting to be introduced to the distinguished newcomer.
Text of a letter from Egmond Talbot Lindenblatt, Magistrate, of Yvoire, Swiss France, to Reinhart Olivier Kreuzbach, attorney at law, at Speicher, Rhenish Prussia; carried by messenger and delivered eleven days after it was written.
To the respected advocate R. O. Kreuzbach of Speicher, Rhenish Prussia, the greetings of the Magistrate E. T. Lindenblatt of Yvoire, Lake Geneva, Swiss France, as we are now designated on this, the 1
st
day of April, 1818
st
day of April, 1818
My dear advocate,
Pursuant to the matters regarding your client, Comte Franciscus of the Château Ragoczy of this town, it is my duty to inform you, during the absence of the Comte, of the following developments in respect to the robbers of this region, to wit: that the two men captured at Château Ragoczy while in the apparent act of robbing the estate, both have been identified. One is Jiac Relout, a day-laborer from Sacre-Sang, the other is Paulot Desarmes from Halle; his occupation is not known. Each has said that the third man with them was Loys Begen, another day-laborer from Sacre-Sang, who has not yet been apprehended. Both declare that they know nothing of the fourth man a few of the servants claim to have seen: I am inclined to think that the man is a product of confusion not observation.
I have obtained sworn statements from each that they do not know whom the robbers deal with, that they were acting on their own, and that they chose Ragoczy because his generosity suggested he had goods and livestock to spare. Both swear that it was Paulot Desarmes who made arrangements with the robbers so that they would not fear for their lives, for it has been the practice of the robbers to kill any known to be preying on the same travelers and estates that they consider to be within their domain. That is the word they are purported to use: domain. These thieves are haughty men, and as ruthless as the barons of old. Relout and Desarmes have requested the protection of the courts until the robbers are apprehended; they say they will not survive if they are released from custody before the robbers are caught.
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