Coronets and Steel (33 page)

Once I made it to the handsome streets that marked the posh section of town I had some difficulty remembering which street was Aunt Sisi’s. Eventually I found it, and the house, and at last I knocked on the door.

The butler opened it, took one look at my getup and addressed me from a height of about ninety feet of moral superiority. “What do you want?”

I straightened up and said in my most formal French, “I wish to speak with my Aunt Sisi. Er, the duchess.”

His jowls quivered with shock, but he pulled the door open, then led me up the stairs to a charmingly decorated sitting room done mostly in white and soft greens with touches of gold. Aunt Sisi was seated at a dainty and ruinously expensive looking desk, but when she saw me she jumped up and exclaimed, “My dear child! What—what has happened? Are you alone?”

“Yes, I’m alone,” I said. “The, uh, dress I can explain. My other stuff has gone up to the castle with your son. Ah . . . I don’t know how to tell you in a nice way, but Ruli is safe. But she’s a prisoner at the Eyrie. Has been all along.” And, as she continued to stare wordlessly at me, “Ah, I didn’t
see
her, understand. But Tony told me, and I don’t think he was lying about that. Uh, I’m sorry.”

Her brown eyes were wide and shocked as she said slowly, “I fear I don’t understand. What has happened? Who brought you here?”

“No one,” I said firmly. While I was crossing the town I had resolved that the fewer people who knew who had helped me the better. At least, until things got straightened out. If ever. “I walked. I felt you’d want to know right away. Also. . . .I was hoping I could maybe stay here, at least until I decide what to do next. You did offer.”

“Yes.
Naturellement!
You are most welcome. I will have a room prepared this instant—and—and luncheon. You must be hungry. Have you eaten?”

“I could sure use a glass of water, thanks.”

“I will get you some now, with my own hands,” she stated, a quiver in her voice. Her eyes were still wide and shocked, her face pale. I winced, thinking maybe I could have broken the news more gently.

She crossed the room to the door, then stopped and turned back. “No one knows you are here?”

“Not yet—” I said, hesitant to elaborate.

Violent knocking on the front door below carried all the way upstairs. Poor Aunt Sisi flinched as if she’d been stabbed. She pulled open the door. Male voices echoed up the stairs, then we heard quick steps.

Alec entered, looking slightly disheveled and grim.

A
UNT SISI TURNED sharply to me. “You said—”

“I sent a message.” I shrugged. “I didn’t think he’d get it so fast. That was lucky.”

“Lucky indeed.” Alec’s light voice was distinctly ironic. Then he spoke more mildly to Aunt Sisi. “You’ve heard the news?”

“About my daughter?” She looked dismayed, her hands open in elegant helplessness. “This moment. The child just sat down. I have not had time to turn around.”

“Why don’t you take some time to think it over. Come to my place tonight. We’ll discuss how to handle this matter. I’ll take Kim off your hands.”

“Oh, no, no, please.” She gazed earnestly up into his face. “It would be a pleasure—so comforting—to have her stay. I promised her luncheon.”

“She can get that at Ysvorod House.”

“I couldn’t—”

He gave her a short sentence in Dobreni, his voice so quick and low and I did not catch the ending word. Only the beginning, “Consider it . . .”

Her hands fell to her sides and she sighed, giving me a rueful smile. My heart squeezed; I admired her for trying to be soignée despite the maternal distress she’d revealed. “Very well. You will send when you want me?”

“Yes. Thank you,” he said, and to me, “Let’s go, Kim, if you are ready.”

“I can stay here,” I started, but as an implacable determination tightened his mouth I sighed.
Why argue? I’ll be gone soon anyway.
But I felt sick and irritable that he was still angry with me.

He bade Aunt Sisi au revoir and followed me down the stairs. At the bottom, in the hall, stone-faced Kilber waited with the equally stone-faced butler. No one said anything as we all filed out, and Kilber opened the door of a plain black Volvo that was waiting at the curb.

Alec got in beside me, and Kilber went around to the driver’s seat. Alec smiled. “Did you order that gown in Paris?” he asked with mendacious admiration.

“Why, yes,” I simpered, batting my eyelashes. “It’s definitely
le dernier cri.
” Then sighed. “You could have let me stay with my aunt without making a big deal of it.”

The amusement faded. “And how long do you think she’d be able to keep you from a second invitation should her son show up? Five seconds? Six?”

“As I was walking, I thought it over. He won’t dare show up. He must know I’d tell his mother about Ruli first thing. Anyway, you can be sure if Tony did waltz in through the front door,
I’d
be out the back door in
four
seconds.”

“And into his mates’ waiting arms.”

I snorted a laugh. “Okay, well, I did worry about that.”

He went on, “I heard what happened on the other day. If Tony gets another chance, he won’t be so careless. You might have thought of that before running to his mother for protection.”

“I didn’t run to
anyone
for protection,” I retorted. “She’s Ruli’s mother, and a mother has a right to know where her missing daughter is. I was only going to stay there until I arranged my next, um, errand. That reminds me. What was it you said to her in Dobreni? I got part of it. ‘Consider it’—?”

He sighed, leaning his head back. “Custody,” he said reluctantly.

“What?” I squawked. “Custody? So I’m
under arrest?
What’s the nature of my crime? Or can you arrest people when you feel like it, whether they committed a crime or not?”

“One crime would be wearing that thing in public.” He pointed at the dress, his smile whimsical, attitude wary.

Wary. I expelled my breath and said more quietly, “And I was planning to order a hat to match. Why ‘custody’?”

His blue eyes looked tired. “A warning—to Tony. Your reasoning is good, but I still think he will visit his mother. Probably on the way right now. If he does, he’ll hear what I said, and the word
custody
reminds them who holds Riev. That will grant you some freedom in the city, at least. So. I would never dream of trying to direct your movements—” The irony was back. “I suggest you consider before going up Devil’s Mountain again. Who was the girl in the temple school uniform?”

“A friend.”

“That’s what she said when Kilber questioned her. ‘I am Lady Aurelia’s friend,’ like she’d go to the stake with that line. Eh, Kilber?” Alec lifted his chin.

“That is true, Durchlaucht.” Kilber’s voice was like the gravel at the bottom of a well, his English heavily accented.

Alec turned back to me. “You have a knack for finding partisans. I suppose you weren’t lost on the mountainside the past couple days?”

“I was okay. That’s all
you
need to know.”

“That’s what I thought.” He gave a soft laugh.

“Miriam has a good heart, and I suspect a taste for adventure. I hope there will not be any trouble for her.”

“From me?” His brows went up.

“You, or anyone. I mean, if Tony’s evil minions saw her go to the palace. I was worried about that.”

Alec said, “The girl came to my house, and even Reithermann is prudent enough to stay away from my house.”

“Reithermann? Who’s that?”

“The chief, you might say, of Tony’s evil minions. If you decide to hare off into the hills again, you will no doubt have the pleasure of making his acquaintance.”

I sighed again. There were so many questions raised by this I did not know where to begin.
Easiest first.
“Then you don’t live at the palace? I remember the guard said no tours when the Stadthalter is in residence. You are the Stadthalter, right?”

“Right. I don’t live there, but most of the bureaucracy is settled there, at least in summer. Plenty of space, though the place is a damned icehouse in winter and we can’t afford yet to put in central heating and better plumbing.”

“You’re short of money?” I tried to hide my elation at nailing him. “What about the Dsaret treasure?”

He didn’t start, or betray dismay or anger, only mild question. “What about it?”

The car stopped then. A distracted glance out the window showed us parked at the end of a street of modest narrow, two-storied houses with tall windows and vaguely Baroque-style facades that made me think of the 1700s. On one side of us was a small park beyond which could be seen more houses; I wondered if this was considered a “new” neighborhood, so much of the city was far older. “Not that I mean to change the subject, but where are we?”

“At a place,” said Alec, “where I hoped we could talk uninterrupted while I try to find out what you want to do next. We’re in the northwest part of the city of Riev, called the Khonzhinya District, in case you feel the urge to slam out of the car and sprint off. I can take you to the train station—the train leaves for the Danube cities in less than two hours—or even to the airstrip if you want to get out of Dobrenica. You can fly to Belgrade, or Bucharest, even to Berlin. Or if you decide you have to stay for more of your . . . sightseeing—”

“You mean troublemaking.”

“—I didn’t say that. You did.” He was obviously trying not to laugh. “Anyway, there’s a quiet flat a few meters from us which you are welcome to use; as I say, you’re perfectly safe in Riev, but there’s the possibility you might want to grant the Waleskas a few days of peace.”

“All right, cut the sarcasm,” I said sarcastically, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. “So I’ve turned out to be a Joe Btflspk, or however it was said—”

“What?” He was still trying not to laugh.

“
Li’l Abner.
Or was it
Dick Tracy?
Never mind. A comic book character of years ago. My father collected comics when he was young, and I read them all when I was about ten. Anyway, Joe B. was a walking disaster area, through no fault of his own. And it’s not my fault about any of this stuff. I was minding my own business. I’ll even get out of town, if you want, as soon as my business is completed.”

His expression had gone blank.

“Look,” I said sharply, fighting the urge to flush like a teenager. “I admit I was an idiot to think no one would notice me if I came here. Okay. But I feel I had the right to come. And I promise I’ll take myself off as soon as I’m done with my . . . my research. But until then, well, I’d like to know what’s going on.”

Alec’s palm came down flat on the door-handle and sprang the mechanism with a clunk. “Then let’s go into Nat’s place, shall we? Kilber.” He addressed the silent man in the front seat, “I’m here until the appointment with the bishop. Kim, where are your clothes? Kilber can get—”

“No he can’t. Tony’s got ’em.”

“Ah, I should have thought of that. You do have problems with your wardrobe, don’t you?”

“But at least I get my hotel bills paid,” I gloated as we got out of the car.

Kilber took off at once, and Alec and I walked at a leisurely pace past the corner of the park and up the narrow street of quiet houses.

I gave him a scan. He was wearing a good shirt and slacks, much in his usual style. I tried to picture him in jeans and a black T-shirt, then realized what I was doing, and shook my head, hard, to dismiss the image of Tony that had blipped unexpectedly into my head. “So, whose place are we going to?”

“Belongs to a friend. Out of town at present, due back any day. Don’t worry, you’re welcome either way. Here.” He stopped at the corner house abutting onto an intersection, pulled an old-fashioned key from his pocket and unlocked a narrow, whitewashed door. “She lives at the end because she gets calls day and night. Mostly night.”

“She?” I repeated.

“Her name is Nat. That is, Natalie Miller, but she prefers Nat. Comes from the States. Wisconsin, I think. A doctor in obstetrics. The locals think of her as a remarkably adept midwife. She’s got a thriving practice,” he went on as he shut the front door and we trod down a narrow hall to a jumbled, small living area. “Surgery is in there.” He pointed to the other door off the hall. “Living quarters here. Have a seat.”

He was evidently at home in the cramped apartment; he lifted the Venetian blinds at the tall front windows, left the sheers drawn, and pointed toward a couch lined with unmatched pillows that I suspected served as a bed at night, with a minute table between it and an old chair covered with handmade pillows. The two side walls were stacked high with books and boxes. In back of the couch was a curtained off area.

I wondered if this Nat was one of his sweeties—or did he only date those with coroneted pedigrees?

“Something wrong?” he asked.