Fates for Apate (19 page)

"Would you care to join me for a drink?"

"That would be most pleasant, my lord."

"You never invite me to drink with you, Gideon," Sabre teased.

"I'm afraid you would be bent on drinking me under the table."

The duchess chuckled and Gideon beat a hasty retreat with Mr. Rokiczana at his heels.

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Accepting the earl's invitation to join him in a drink had been a difficult decision. On the one hand, Casimir was sure that his wife didn't prefer to be left alone with her more judgmental friend. On the other hand, accepting the hospitality of their host would make their stay easier. As much as his heart told him to protect Gini, his wit and instincts told him to follow the earl. The earl who was now rifling through his tray of liquors in the study.

"What is your poison, Mr. Rokiczana?"

Although tempted to encourage the earl to use his first name, Casimir sensed that the earl was at heart a traditionalist, and that it would be best not to become overly familiar too quickly. "Vodka if you have it, my lord."

The earl shifted a few more bottles around and muttered, "One would presume I did." More loudly he called, "Dibbs!"

The butler appeared at the door. "Yes, my lord?"

"Do we have vodka?"

"Chilling in the cellar, my lord."

"Perfect. I will need some for Mr. Rokiczana. And Dibbs, do I like vodka?"

"Not especially, sir, but you do not dislike it."

 His host smiled at him. "I'm not known to be averse to many liquors."

The efficient Dibbs returned momentarily with a Russian styled silver and crystal vodka service, serving both gentlemen the chilled beverage. The earl invited Casimir to sit in one of the deep leather chairs and then took the other one.

"Well, Mr. Rokiczana, my wife wants to know all about you."

"Oh?" Casimir took a sip. Quite nice.

"Yes, and Robert assures me that you can't be broken, so I have to hope that you can be cajoled."

Casimir smiled at his host. "What is it you would like to know?"

"Why did you marry George?"

Casimir paused for a moment. "Because I love her. And to protect her. Otto seemed hesitant to go against me due to my connections, so I hoped my name would give her the same protection."

"What connections would those be?"

Casimir smiled. "I have many connections, my lord. I've spent the last five years schooling with the sons of Prussian nobility. Drinking with them, visiting their houses."

"Yes, but who specifically was he afraid of?"

"I came very highly recommended to the delegation and Hardenberg noticed. I was probably the only clerk to take a private meeting with him. I also knew Metternich prior to the Congress, had been to his home a few times."

The earl looked at him shrewdly. "Well, you are certainly full of surprises, Mr. Rokiczana."

"How do you mean, my lord?"

"You're young yet, but you have the makings of a statesman."

"I appreciate your opinion on that, my lord."

"Really? Why?"

"Your wife was quite complimentary on your record in the British Parliament."

"Do you have a title, Mr. Rokiczana?"

Casimir was silent for a moment, contemplating what to reveal. He decided on the simpler truth rather than the complicated one. "No, my lord."

"Then I will assume you are involved in the fight for Polish independence?"

"I can assure you that the revolution was very effectively put down years ago, my lord."

"Then what are you about?"

"Hoping that revolution isn't the only path to a free Poland."

"That's ambitious."

"True. But the world is run by ambitious men."

"So it is."

"And their wives, of course."

"Is that why you chose George Lockhart? For your ambitions?"

Casimir thought quickly back to the letters Gini had discussed with him, describing the Harrington's forced marriage. "Did you choose your wife, my lord? Or did destiny thrust her upon you?"

* * *

"Don't look so dubious, George." Sabre selected a tiny sweet from the tray in front of her. "It's not like I'm going to bite you."

"You said you were still angry with me. I'm just waiting to see how that manifests."

"I'm trying to decide if I'm angrier at you or Robert. My brother has been very troublesome of late."

"What did he do to the duke?"

Sabre paused in brushing crumbs off her skirt. "You know how elaborate Robert can be in setting up his plans."

"Obviously."

"He wanted our father exiled and targeted Quince as the man who could ensure it would happen."

"Because he's a duke?"

"Among other things. But it led to Quince being blackmailed and threatened. They even tried to kill him once. A man and two horses died from the attack."

George blew out a breath and nodded. "You should definitely be angrier at Robert."

Sabre frowned. "For all the good it would do me."

"If we enlist Jack's help, certainly all three Haberdashers can devise a fitting punishment for him."

Sabre smiled. "I've missed you, Georgie. Jack isn't nearly as devious and black hearted as you."

"See? You should keep that in mind before planning your revenge on me."

"Alas, none of us are as devious and black hearted as Robert."

George slumped back against her seat. "You make a good point." She perked back up. "So he can never know it was us."

"Easier said than done."

George shrugged. "We'll think of something. Sooner or later. We always do."

"True enough." The duchess paused for a moment. "It
is
nice having you back. Even if I'm still a teensie bit mad at you working for Robert without telling me or taking me with you."

"I thought we had agreed we were angry at Robert."

"Well, yes, but he is in charge of some of the most interesting things to do in England."

George chuckled. "Technically I wasn't in England."

"If you can't tell me about it, then you can't
tell
me about it. Hints will only make me want to throttle you. Though I knew you weren't in England." Sabre picked at another dainty from the tray. "Your husband sounds like he's from Central Europe. But the language he spoke, it wasn't Hungarian."

"Are we playing a game?"

"Of course we're playing a game. We're always playing a game."

"Is this the 'how long will Sabre torture me until she forgives me' game?"

"That's one of them, yes. Another is 'who is this man that George married?' That game is probably more important at the moment."

"Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to just keep guessing?"

"Both options are tempting. Do I earn boons if I guess correctly?"

George laughed. "I know better than to grant you an undefined boon. What do you want?"

"A painting."

"That I paint for you, or am I stealing it from somewhere?"

Now it was Sabre's turn to grin. "That you paint for me. Have you become adept at robbery?"

"Not especially, thus why I wanted to be careful what I was getting myself into."

"Just a painting. Of me."

"I've already promised one to Jack, so you don't even have to earn it. It's only fair if I do one of you, too."

"Oh, Jack wants a boudoir painting?"

The laugh that surprised from George was so sudden that it pulled her side painfully. "A nude painting? She's best hope not, because I said I would paint her in the snow! Do you really want a boudoir painting?"

"Yes. The duke loves art. I hope to surprise him with it for his birthday."

"Oh, I imagine he'll be surprised. When is his birthday?"

"November. We have time."

"Naughty, naughty Sabre," George admonished.

"Yes, I'm sure you're like a nun with your husband."

George snorted. "And now you want to hear about
my
bed sport. You truly are naughty."

Sabre grinned. "Well, since we are talking about your husband, tell me about him."

"He's from Poland, a gentleman," George plucked at the fringe of the settee, knowing she would soon run out of descriptive information. Casimir was
Casimir
, handsome and charming. So charming it was easy to forget that he was adept at keeping most things about himself hidden. "He's fair at cards, a wonderful dancer, and a flirt. What of your husband, the duke? I've hardly heard him say a word."

"Quince?" Sabre smiled. Handy to know that the duchess could be so easily distracted by mention of her husband. "He's the best swordsman I've ever seen. And so kind. Strong, but kind. And he believes in rights for women."

"Handy, as you're not one to have your rights infringed."

"Very true. What of your husband?"

"You just spent an hour with him, does he seem controlling?"

"Not as such, but some are very good at hiding their true selves."

That seemed uncomfortably close to George's own fears, so she changed the direction of the conversation. "Is that why you don't like the earl?"

Sabre laughed. "Gideon, hide his true self? I tend to doubt that. And I like him well enough. Is Jack saying that I don't like him?"

"Not in so many words," George hedged.

"I haven't liked the change in Jack," Sabre said, scrunching up her nose. "And I don't see why she let's him ignore her so."

"Oh? Where is your husband?"

Sabre glowered. "Believe me when I say that Quince is thrice as attentive as Gideon could ever hope to be."

George grinned. "So touchy. I suppose I should be glad that my husband is not serving in Parliament." 

"Indeed you should. And if you aren't going to be any more forthcoming, then we should track down said husbands and pester Jack to start nuncheon."

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Casimir regretted being so forthright almost immediately. Honesty had never worked out well for him, and there was no reason whatsoever to divulge so much of his history, and thoughts, to this earl he didn't even know. Regret transformed to a low level panic. The last time he had trusted so quickly had been disastrous. He couldn't think on it. Shortly the duke joined them and with Casimir subdued to quiet, the earl and duke chatted in the banter of old friends. It seemed this was a household of old friendships. Certainly with everyone such bosom companions he could easily make friends himself and slide unremarked into their lives as he had with so many others. That was his gift, to easily enmesh himself in others lives so that they could barely remember a time that he wasn't their friend. Provided that he hadn't opened his mouth and already said something counter to the earl's own political goals. Not that he had any reason to believe that the man would have an interest in Central Europe, but stranger things had happened. And the earl had that blasé confidence peculiar to men with a great deal of power. Such a man might easily be involved in things far beyond his own borders.

But there was no way to predict what the earl would do, and no reason yet to trust anything he might say, so Casimir resigned himself to waiting. Mastering his fear, he followed the other gentlemen in to nuncheon and gave himself over the silly chatter required of an early afternoon social affair. Nuncheon. He still didn't believe that was a word.

* * *

Retreating to their room to refresh before supper, George watched Casimir. He had seemed oddly distant at times during the afternoon meal and she worried what the earl might have said to him. Or perhaps the duke, who had arrived before she and Sabre came downstairs.

He continued to be distracted now and she couldn't stand it any longer. "What's wrong?"

After a long blink he summoned one of his most charming smiles. "Nothing that can't be solved by time alone with my wife."

True to his statement, he pulled her closer, smoothing his hands over her hips, his intentions clear. She didn't want to be distracted and searched his eyes. They now reflected nothing but lust and amusement. Oh, how devilishly good he was at hiding his thoughts!

"Did Gideon say something?" she demanded. She had already begun to think of the earl by his Christian name since she heard him referred to by it so often. Something flickered in Casimir's eyes and he faltered for a moment, so she pressed him. "What?"

"He wanted to know why I married you. He seems terribly protective for someone you say you didn't meet until we returned to London."

"Jack's influence, no doubt." She frowned. "In fact, I would wager that rather than fuss over me she has fussed to her husband and sent him on this mission."

Casimir flicked the end of her nose. "Stop looking so perturbed. It's pleasing when people care about us."

"Really? Just you wait until Jack has decided that you are part of her brood. Her fussing will irritate you to no end."

"This from the woman who crossed Vienna in the middle of the night, and climbed a building, just to inquire why I hadn't attended some parties?"

"I-" George stopped and frowned again. Casimir simply chuckled and started nibbling on her neck. "I don't fuss," she said peevishly.

"Of course not, love," he said agreeably. She wasn't sure she had ever heard agreeableness sound so perverse. Then he pulled her closer still, his mouth covering hers, and she lost herself in his strength and warmth. The Harringtons could fuss all they wanted as long as she could retreat here with Casimir.

* * *

Casimir had traveled through some of the finest houses of Prussia in the last few years, and knew how to be a cordial and delightful guest. It was a talent, really. Humorous without being wearing, quiet without being dull. Smiling, always smiling. He could, he thought, make something of a career of it. The wealthy were generous with those they considered to be entertaining and easy companions. Many people had been very generous with him. Certainly a small dinner party at the earl’s home wouldn’t be beyond him. He wished that it were a large party rather than this rather intimate gathering.