Fates for Apate (25 page)

Gideon had been primarily running the business through one of his solicitors and making most of the decisions himself, but wanted to formalize it with his hiring of Casimir, and that included this set of offices. Casimir had already met the solicitor who would still be handling all the contracts, and the banker they worked with for financing. Now he was authorized to hire an assistant and whatever else he might need to make a go of it. It was intimidating, certainly, to be embarking on this venture. But Gideon insisted that he would be available for anything Casimir needed for as long as might be needed. He also said that Casimir would be wise to seek the countess's advice on businesses to invest in.

The earl was just now running a finger over the windowsill with a frown. "I thought they had cleaned."

Casimir chuckled. "If that's my worst problem this week I will count it as a success."

Gideon sat in one of the chairs, crossing his legs. "All right, then. Shall we begin?"

"Yes," Casimir said, sitting, although he wasn't sure quite what the earl was about.

"Why are you here?"

"As I recall, I accepted your offer for this position."

"Hm. I mean
why
are you here?"

"Does it matter?"

"Intensely. Perhaps you recognize the quote, 'Where the willingness is great, the difficulties cannot be great'?"

Casimir thought for a moment, translating it in his mind until he found a language where it was, indeed, familiar. "Machiavelli."

Gideon nodded. "As I know the challenges with this business continue to grow, I want to ensure that you will not find the difficulties too great."

"Why am I here? I'm helping my new friends the Earl of Harrington and Duke of Beloin."

The earl laughed. "Yes, I'm sure that will buoy you up in your times of difficulty."

"Of course it will. How could I disappoint you? Especially as I hope that one day you might help my aims in Poland."

"Ah, that was what I wanted to hear. That this will fulfill your own goals as well as mine."

Casimir nodded. "I think it will. If nothing else, it gives me something to do that will keep Georgiana close to her family for now."

"I didn't realize that was a concern."

"With her mother so ill, I want her to have the opportunity to visit if she should want to."

"I see. You know there will be travel required in this position? That is part of why I can no longer do all that is needed."

"I'm sure Gini will be delighted when she can go with me."

"I've given some more thought to your concerns regarding your homeland. And some reading as well."

"Yes?"

"Perhaps if we focus on things that can't be as easily taken from the people as land. Skills and education. Industry."

Casimir was intrigued that the earl had used the term 'we'. Why had he so quickly invested in a man hardly known to him? Was it simply the relationship between their wives? "I've had similar thoughts."

"Good. I have been thinking of pursing investments on the continent and the details for one of the options in central Europe is already on your desk."

Casimir rose to inspect the papers that he had assumed were more general in nature. "I know the Blumenthals," he murmured.

"Excellent. See? I told you my talents included identifying and exploiting opportunities."

The earl looked perfectly relaxed, sitting there in the mid-morning light. Anyone walking in wouldn't suspect him capable of changing lives. But Casimir knew with a sudden clarity that this was the first time since he had overheard his classmates talking about gypsies that he could imagine a future. A worthwhile future. His forebears might have been charlatans, or deluded, but he would finally have an opportunity to do things that were useful to his people. All because of a man who made it sound like Casimir was doing
him
a favor.

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY-
S
IX

George frowned at the flower arrangement in the drawing room, moving the stems again to see if it was more pleasing. It would help if she could find some shears and change the heights, but the biggest challenge of setting up a new household was being woefully short on basic supplies. Because of her artistic talent everyone expected her to both enjoy and excel at things like this but in truth she despised flower arranging. Jacks' little sister Samantha was really the best at it. Perhaps Sam would come over and do something with all these flowers that Sabre had sent. The duchess had been very generous, and it was helpful since they had barely any furniture and no decorations. But drat, she hated to arrange flowers. Perhaps Wladek had an as yet unknown talent for flower arrangement. She would have to ask him when he returned from the market.

A knock at the door drew her from her frustration. She tried not to be too thrilled for the distraction. She also thought she needed to turn her attention to hiring staff.

The man she saw on the other side of the door was a surprise. "Mr. Sims?"

He gave her a grimace that she knew for him passed as a smile. "Mrs. Rokiczana," he said with a small bow. Pointing to a nearby carriage he said, "Mr. Bittlesworth needs to see you."

George felt the hairs on her arms and back of her neck rise. Following her instincts, she flung the heavy door closed, but Sims whipped his walking stick into the opening before it fully closed and the door bounced back. She had an impression of Sims' expression of rage before she fled toward the back of the house. Bloody hell, why wasn't she armed? Certainly there would be at least one knife in the kitchen? She had left the kitchens to Wladek, having no interest in them herself. Going upstairs to retrieve her weapons could be a dangerous mistake, as  escape might yet be the best option and she didn't fancy the idea of jumping out a window. Another one of Sabre's vases of flowers was on a table in the back hallway and George tore it off the table to toss behind herself. She heard a crash and curse. Gaining the kitchen, her eyes flew about, looking for the knives. Bread. More flowers. No knives. She dashed around the table to put the large piece of wood between them as she continued to look for something she could use as a weapon.

Sims stopped at the doorway, his eyes narrowing. He twirled his walking stick in his hand, assessing her. "Come, love. Why won't you see Mr. Bittlesworth?"

"Robert? I've already said everything I want to say to Robert. Tell him- tell him I already know." The first thing she would do once she rid herself of Sims was make sure to have weapons strategically placed about the house. What she wouldn't do for a flint lock right now. She eyed the door into the back alley and knew that retreat was her best option. Sims saw the direction of her gaze and hastened to put himself closer to that exit. She made a feint for the back door to get him to commit in that direction, then bolted straight over the table to the door that led back to the hallway. She felt a sharp pain in the back of her leg, accompanied by the loud crack of wood striking her, and stumbled into the wall, falling to the floor in the hallway. Bloody hell, the man was fast to have reached her already. She flipped on her back as he reached down for her and kicked him in the knee as hard as she could. His face creased in pain as he dropped. She wriggled away from him, gaining her feet to speed off again. Not knowing who might be in the carriage outside, she couldn't go out the front. She let herself out the glass doors from the drawing room to the side garden. Sabre's house was the closest of the Haberdashers. She ran there, ignoring the pain of her injuries and the curious stares from neighbors.

* * *

Sabre tapped her bottom lip while reviewing the menus for the week. Something was missing. What that might be, however, eluded her. Her focus on the task was interrupted by noise from the front hall.

"Sabre?"

George. Upset George. Well, hopefully it wasn't something that new husband of hers had done. Sabre was beginning to like him, but Haberdashers came first. Walking out to the top of the stairs, Sabre called, "What's wrong, Georgie?" Sabre's naturally
blasé
attitude was shaken somewhat when George looked up to her. Bloody, pale, with huge and haunted eyes. It had been some time since their cynical friend had looked so baldly frightened. Sabre marched down the steps. "What did he do?"

Biting her bottom lip, George shook her head. "I should have had my knives with me. I thought I was safe."

"What happened?"

"Sims. He said Robert wanted to see me, but it didn't feel right."

"I don't know who this Sims is, but I certainly know Robert. Come, let's get you cleaned up."

"I should send a note to Casimir. If he were to come home right now it looks like there was a fight. I hope Wladek doesn't come back before Sims leaves."

Sabre patted her friend's shoulder. "All right, we'll send messages and such. But right now let's find out what's under this blood."

"I threw one of the vases of flowers at him, then I fell on it when I had to go back through the hallway."

Once Sabre had George surrounded by maids, she sent a number of her footmen out. One to fetch Jack, one for Casimir, one for Robert, and three of the burliest to secure the Rokiczana townhouse. By then, all of the activity had gained her husband's attention.

"What is all the bustle, love?"

"A man attacked George at home. She's come to us for help."

The duke's eyebrows rose. "She has it, of course."

She nodded. "I'm waiting for Robert to come explain himself."

"Ah, Robert. I should have suspected."

Sabre grimaced, but didn't respond. Her once beloved brother had been falling in her estimation for years. Now she wasn't sure she could ever trust him again.

The first to arrive was Jack, whom Sabre dispatched to care for George. Sabre knew herself not to be the best at tea and sympathy, whereas Jack excelled at it. Sabre knew her own talents would be much better served questioning Robert. Her eldest brother was the next to arrive, a bit winded from his rush.

He looked from duke to duchess. "Sabre, your note said there is a family emergency."

"I believe there is. When my brother dispatches agents to attack my friends in their homes it strikes me as an urgent issue to address."

"What are you talking about? Are you referring to me or Charlie?"

Sabre didn't take Robert's befuddlement at face value. Her brother was a master manipulator. "Sims hasn't reported back to you about how his mission went?"

That sufficed to change his demeanor to suspicion, an emotion that was much more likely to be genuine. "I received a report from Sims this morning. How do you know his name?"

"I learned it from George not even an hour ago. After he attacked her at home, saying that he had been sent by you."

Robert's expression had shifted back to confusion, but any attempt to respond was cut short by a string of foreign invective coming from the doorway before Casimir came after the eldest Bittlesworth. Whatever advantages her brother might have had in experience and training, the younger man matched with ferocity and speed. Gideon, who had followed Casimir into the room, and Quince finally managed to separate the two.

"I didn't send anyone!" Robert insisted, shrugging out of the duke's hold.

Gideon kept a tight hold on the younger man, who continued to curse in a foreign language.

Sabre stepped in front of her friend's husband. "George needs you. I'll get to the bottom of this."

Casimir continued to glower at Robert for a moment, then pulled free of Gideon's hold and turned from the room. The earl followed.

Sabre looked back to her brother. "Explain."

"Sims is... was one of my best agents. I sent him to Vienna to keep an eye on George during her first mission. He should still be in Austria right now, and his report indicated as much."

"Yet he attacked George at her house."

"Is she all right?"

"Cuts and bruises. The larger part, I think, was that she hadn't expected it."

Robert nodded. "Sims was among my best agents, but he isn't
the
best. I'll have him brought in by tonight and find out what happened."

Quince finally stepped forward. "See that you do. I've given it some thought, Robert, and it definitely matters more that you've caused harm. You have much to answer for if you ever seek redemption."

Her husband and brother held gazes for some time. She knew there was no love lost between them, not after the way that Robert had manipulated Quince in ways that nearly had the duke killed. But why her brother would care about Quince's opinions on redemption, she couldn't say. Finally, Robert bowed his head and said, "Yes, your grace."

This wasn't the first time she had seen Robert submit to Quince's authority, and she found that odd as well. Once her brother had left, Sabre crossed her arms and looked up at her husband. "Redemption?"

Quince shrugged. "He thinks I'm an angel. I'm just trying to be a good influence."

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY-
S
EVEN

It had been quite some time since George had felt so out of sorts. Since Jack had seemed comforting rather than cloying. Then she heard Casimir shouting downstairs. Shouting in Polish. She ran out to the upper hall, Jack at her heels. She stopped to stand at the head of the steps, seeing her husband followed by the earl at the bottom. Casimir took the stairs two at a time and gathered her in his arms. "
Ukochany
, are you all right?"

She nodded as Jack stroked her back and said, "Just some cuts and bruises."

"Where was Wladek?"

"He went to the market. I was downstairs arranging flowers."

His grip tightened. "I won't leave you alone there again."

"If I'd just had a weapon or two I would have been fine. I couldn't even find a kitchen knife downstairs."

He cupped her face. "Never again," he vowed.

She hated feeling weak. Dependent. But Casimir didn't make her feel that way. She just felt cherished. Loved.