Fates for Apate (6 page)

"Nesselrode and Hardenberg think they have an agreement about Poland and Saxon. That's why Alexander is here." She recognized the names of the Russian and Prussian diplomats, and of course the name of the Tsar of Russia. Casimir was still desperate, searching her gaze. "It's not formalized yet, but should be within a few days. They mean to give all of Poland over to Alexander. I would love nothing better than a united Poland, but we have never done well under Russia's thumb. I can't let that happen. Do you know who to give this information to? Do you know who to trust?"

George felt a twinge of guilt at not being able to tell Casimir that she knew exactly who to tell. Trust was another issue and far too complicated to introduce. "I think so. I will do my best."

He pulled her close again with a relieved sigh. "Thank you."

"Do you have any other details?"

He chuckled morosely. "I wallow in details daily. But let me tell you what I think are the most important pieces. And give you some papers."

* * *

Casimir wanted nothing more than to stay here with this woman, looking at her features outlined by the lamplight. That wasn't true. He wanted nothing more than to have the right to take her home. To make love to her with moonlight streaming in through their bedroom window. To wake her in the middle of the night by kissing her body until she moaned and wriggled under him. It was so clear to him everything they could do together, be together. But she belonged to another man. And now Casimir was using her to thwart Russia's plans for his homeland. His heart broke at the thought of what they could be and what they were.

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N
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George had to school her expression into polite concern. She was truly worried for Casimir, he was so adorably upset over the implications for his people. But she had done it! Her first operation was a raging success. Even if she did nothing else during her tenure here at the Congress of Vienna, this was a tremendous coup. She had gleaned specific information on the Prussian political activities for Robert. Perhaps even in time for Britain to take counter-measures, if they didn’t like the sound of this agreement between Prussia and Russia. Up until now she had purposefully
not
given attention to who else in the British delegation could be an agent since it could compromise safety for all of them. But now if she knew who they were she would brag that they didn’t have anything so useful from
their
delegations.

She was fairly sure that Casimir wouldn't take it well if she were grinning like an idiot at him. As he explained the details of what he knew, part of her mind filed those facts away. But another part considered the rewards of her successful mission. Robert's approval would be nice. If she could ever share it with the other Haberdashers, then their amazement and approval would be delightful as well. But the approval she really wanted, what she really craved, was the approval of the man in front of her. The same amusement and acceptance he showed when she made a particularly cutting remark, or when she made a dry observation of one of their mutual acquaintances. And surely, if he knew exactly what her role was, it would be far from approval that she would see in his eyes.
Run away
, a tiny voice in her head said.
Run far, far away.

* * *

The next four days were among the longest of Casimir's life. After he turned over the information and documents to Gina all he could do was wait. Wait and worry. The first night a rumor circulated that France's Talleyrand had been invited to participate in meetings with the four powers of the Congress. Perhaps Britain and Austria hoped to have another ally against Prussia and Russia? Nothing in the messages he penned and ferried from office to office gave him any insight. Wladek didn't hear any useful rumors from the servants. Casimir worked, slept little, and waited.

On the fifth day rumors spread over a secret treaty being signed among Britain, Austria, and France. There was a good deal of cursing and closed meetings at the Prussian offices. That night he didn't sleep at all. The next day it was clear that a treaty had been signed and that it would thwart Alexander's designs on Poland. He wasn't sure what else would befall his country, but his distrust of the Russians ran deep. There was nothing to do but wait. And wait. Finally, that night he fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

George hadn't seen Casimir at any of the social gatherings in almost a fortnight. Over that time she had gone from mildly concerned to nearly panicked. John Howards said that he still saw Mr. Rokiczana almost daily on Congress work. But why hadn't he come out to social events? Why hadn't he tried to see her? Had someone in the Prussian delegation realized he was the one who had leaked information?

Seeing an opportunity, she strolled up to the refreshments table to intercept Hans Von Rosen. It would seem odd for her to approach him on the floor, but anyone might chat at the refreshments table.

"Guten nacht, Herr Rosen."

He smiled and responded in perfect, if accented, English, "Good evening, Mrs. Appleton."

"I am surprised to see you here without Mr. Rokiczana."

He gave a dry laugh. "I think we both know that Mr. Rokiczana only comes to these events to see you."

George felt a myriad of reactions at once. Fear that their attachment had become too obvious. Pleasure that someone thought they did have an attachment. A sharp pain born of missing him acutely. She searched her mind for something appropriate to say.

Von Rosen spoke again. "Don't worry, I will not judge how you choose to spend your time. Although you might want to be more careful with how you pursue your lover. If I were your husband he would already be dead."

"He's not my lover," George whispered.

"I'm sure that's only a formality. Good evening, Mrs. Appleton."

Later that night George paced her bedroom, thinking over what Von Rosen had said. Was he warning her? Should she worry that Appleton would call Casimir out or do something drastic? Was Casimir avoiding her because he had already been threatened? She would go mad if she didn't find out where he was, why he hadn't come to see her. Before she could second-guess herself she dug out the dark trousers, hose, and tunic she wore to slip about cities unnoticed. With dark boots and a page's cap she became unremarkably male in form. It worked well enough in the daytime to be nondescript, but at night it was almost like magic. She could slip from place to place with none the wiser. It was three, maybe four hours until dawn. She was fairly certain she knew where everyone in the Prussian delegation was quartered, thanks to her own research and what had been provided from the Foreign Office. She blanked out her mind and ran solely on instinct. She would find Casimir and she would find out where he had been for the past fortnight.

* * *

Casimir woke to what sounded like a rattle at his window. He sighed and turned over. Perhaps it was just the wind. When it turned to a definite tapping he sat up. It came again. Tap, tap, tap.

Padding over to the window he saw a form, just the vague outline of a shoulder and head barely noticeable in the dark of the new moon. He drew back, startled. There shouldn’t be anyone at his window. Childhood stories flitted through his tired brain, but certainly there was a more reasonable explanation. The tapping became more pronounced. He lit a candle, almost dropping it when he saw the face in the window through the frost. He set down the light and struggled with the frost-warped window sash. Once he had opened a crack he heard Gina's voice. 

"Let me in!" she hissed.

"I'm trying. How did you get up here? This is the third floor, you know."

"Then let me in faster!"

With a creak and groan the window was finally shoved up enough for her to wiggle through. Once her arms and torso were in he pulled her through the rest of the way. She was chilly and stiff from the cold, but he thought he had never felt anything as wonderful as having her in his arms again.

"What are you doing here?"

He heard Wladek stumble out of bed in the next room, saying, "Do you need anything, 
książę
? 

"No, Wladek. Go back to sleep." 

Casimir loathed letting go of Gina, but released her briefly to shut the door that connected with his kinsman's room. While he did that she closed the window a good deal more quietly than he had opened it. Although he wanted very much to touch her again, he stoked the fire and lay on more logs first to help ward off her chill. At last they met in the middle of the room. Slowly, gently, he laid his palm on her cheek. She leaned into his touch, but her eyes were searching, looking him over as though she were worried. As though he had been the one climbing buildings and doing who knows aught else in the middle of the night in freezing temperatures.

Finally, she spoke. "Where have you been?"

His brows rose and his eyes swept her attire. "Where have I been? Where have
you
been?"

She frowned at him. "Did Appleton threaten you? Tell me if he did and I'll take care of it."

"I hesitate to ask what taking care of it means."

"Whatever is necessary."

"No, he hasn't threatened me."

"Then where have you been?" Her voice was tense, nearly petulant. He wouldn't give her the full answer, just the part she needed.

"Avoiding this." He captured her lips in a kiss. She was still shivering with cold and he drew her near. It didn't escape his notice that his bed was so close. Certainly he should take her to the bed and warm her beneath the blankets. Beneath his body. But once he pressed closer, something poked him in the ribs.

"Ow, what is that?"

She stepped back and removed the surcoat she was wearing. Removing clothes? Removing clothes was good. Below that she appeared to have been wearing a bandoleer of knives.

"What on earth is that?" he hissed. Growing up there had certainly been girls in his clan that learned to fight, but few of them had her confidence and none of them had been as well armed.

She gave him a half smile as she set the bandoleer on the floor. "You didn't want me to walk through the city unprotected, did you?"

"I didn't want you to walk through the city at all." Now she only wore a simple dark tunic and trousers. Perhaps the bed wasn't necessary. The rug in front of the fire would be fine. Or the chair. Wherever she wanted. It was hard to remember she was a married woman when the only reference she had made to the man in over a month was that she would "take care of it" if he threatened Casimir.

She stood in front of him, still looking worried. "So you're all right?"

"I'm fine. Now can I kiss you again, or will other weapons start to poke me?"

She stepped closer and whispered, "The only other ones are in my boots."

Wrapping his hands around her waist he pulled her closer still. She felt perfect. He leaned his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. "I can't... I can't be the other man. But I want you to know that I love you. I will always love you."

She framed his face in her hands. "You're not the other man," she whispered. "You'll always be the only man."

It nearly broke his resolve, hearing her say that he would be the only man she would love. But he couldn't have her share her body with him while she also shared it with another. While it belonged to another.

She kissed him. A slow, sweet torture of a kiss. Together they sank to their knees on the floor. He had missed her so much. Her wit, her smiles, and, God yes, her kisses. Having her so close, so willing, and not being able to take her. This would go on his long list of grievances against God.

It was as though they could go neither forward nor backward, so they stayed there on the floor, kissing, until the sun threatened the sky with dawn.

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T
EN

The next night, George stared out the window of her bedroom at the beauty of Vienna at sunset, and considered her life. When the sun began to rise today she had slipped out of Casimir's lodgings and across the city to her own. She was ridiculously good at that sort of thing. Then she had taken to bed and claimed an illness. She planned to use that excuse for the next several days. And she did have an illness, it just wasn't of the regular sort. It was an illness of the heart.

Madame Blythe had tried to warn her. Perhaps if she had heeded the advice immediately she wouldn't be in this position, but now she was compromised. There wasn't anything that Casimir could ask of her that she would deny. Her lips were still swollen and raw from his kisses, but her body already ached from the absence of his touch. And although she knew she could deny him nothing, she also trusted that he wouldn't ask for anything she wouldn't want to give. He could have had her body many times over last night. She wished he had. But he was stronger than that. More respectful than that. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't truly married, but it would be dangerous to break her cover. Even if Casimir didn't mean to reveal her, he might. If he didn't see her as another's wife then his own behavior might become more proprietary. Everything could come into question. It was best to leave things as they were. But it was killing her. By inches, every day, it was killing her to lie to him.

That made her laugh. She was Georgiana Lockhart! Hardly a day had gone by in her life that she hadn't told some sort of lie. Not always a large one, of course. But many small ones. She was disingenuous in both her compliments and her complaints. She played the clown and made up stories to entertain herself and others. Sabre and Jack were used to it. Sometimes when she had a particularly boring day she would tell them about the incredible journey she'd had riding a tiger or flying to India on the back of a crane. She was incorrigible. She was clever and deceptive and had never, ever felt guilty about it before.

Why did it have to happen now, during her first real assignment?