“I don’t even know. I seem to find them everywhere I go, including my hotel room,” I said. His face was calm. “I admit it scares me.”
“It should. I’m not suggesting it should dissuade you from continuing your work, but you must proceed with extreme caution.”
“I’m being careful. We’ve already spoken to the hotel manager about further increasing security, and Cécile’s going to have Sissi send a guard from the palace.”
“An excellent idea. But…” He stopped and met my eyes. “It is so very tempting to order you to stop. To send you back to London. To—”
“To behave like the typical overprotective English husband.”
“The role does have some merits.” He squeezed my hand.
“Not for us,” I said.
“No, though it would make this much easier.”
“Easy does not equal worthwhile.”
“So what are you going to do about Mr. Harrison and his bullets?” he asked.
“Be more vigilant,” I said. “I will take every reasonable precaution.”
“Don’t limit yourself to reasonable ones.”
I smiled. “Jeremy will keep me safe.”
“I’m inclined to believe that Harrison won’t harm you. It wouldn’t forward his plans. But I can’t be certain. Are you sure you want to continue?”
“There can be no answer to that question but yes,” I said. “You must trust me to be careful.”
“I will, Emily. But be forewarned. If the situation deteriorates, I will put a stop to this.”
“You can’t,” I said.
“I can.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“Well, I’d lose all respect for you if you did, so I suppose I’ll have to make sure it never happens.” My flip tone did nothing to lighten the mood. “Will you help me with Herr Schröder? Can you give me something for him?”
“I can draw up some correct, official, and utterly useless documents. That should secure his trust. The key is to produce something that he can verify with just the right amount of difficulty. How did you manage to take over my work for me? At this point I think you’ve a better chance of uncovering his plans than I do.”
“Perhaps, but you may be better able to stop them than I.”
“Why does this make you more irresistible than ever to me?” he asked.
“More irresistible than ever, am I? Have I mentioned that my mother’s hoping to have half the royal families of Europe at our wedding? Wouldn’t you prefer to elope?”
“Can you convince the queen?” He smiled.
“I’d rather work on you,” I said. “I know I’ve no chance with her.”
“I’m known for my strength of will.”
“Only because I’ve never really tried to tempt you.”
“How is it that you’ve managed to construct a game in which my default position requires denying everything that I want?”
“You’re too loyal to your queen, my dear,” I said.
“It’s not that. I’ve already tried her patience once, when I refused the O.B.E. She handled it well enough, blaming my eccentricity on my family. She knows I come from a long line of gentlemen who turned their backs on royal attention. But I would hate to test her again.”
“You turned down being made a knight?”
“I’ve no desire to be ranked above anyone else. We have not earned our positions, Emily. We hold them because of luck.”
“I do, certainly, but not you. The queen wanted to knight you because of the work you do for the Crown.”
“Work I would never have been able to undertake had I not been born to a privileged life. It’s my duty to serve my country, but the manner in which I fulfill that obligation makes me no better than the lowest sailor in the Royal Navy. We are both doing what we can for Britain.”
There is something about watching a gentleman who is not only passionate about what he does, but very good at it, too. Every nerve in my body was tingling as I listened to Colin speak.
“You’re flushed,” he said. “Are you unwell?”
“Quite the contrary,” I said. “You’re lucky we’re in a public place.”
“Or unlucky.” He traced the rim of his coffee cup with a finger. “Though I don’t believe you’d speak with such restraint were we alone.”
“You underestimate me.”
He shifted in his seat. “That’s quite enough temptation, my dear.”
“All right.” I flashed him a smile. “I’ll change the subject entirely. When can you get me something for Herr Schröder?”
“I’ll send a set of papers to you at the Imperial. Let me know what your anarchist friend says after he sees them.”
The next morning Cécile, Jeremy, and I breakfasted at Klimt’s studio. Cécile had ordered the staff at the Imperial to pack up and send over a stunning assortment of pastries, fruit, and even hot dishes. The only flaw was that the hotel’s coffee had not traveled well; it was entirely too cold. Undaunted, my friend prepared some herself on Klimt’s small stove.
“She’s all energy,” Jeremy said, watching Cécile bustle about. I began to think that his manner towards me had thawed.
“You’re quite right.” I passed him a nut-filled pastry. “Do you want anything else?”
“No, thank you.”
“Have you spoken with Rina recently?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“How is she?”
“Fine, thank you.”
“I—I’ve heard that you found a house for her. I—”
“I’d prefer not to speak with you about this. Forgive me.” He stood up and walked away from the table, crossing to the far side of the studio and staring blankly at the pictures on the wall.
“You must go easy on him,” Klimt said, leaving Cécile to manage the coffee on the stove.
“I haven’t done anything,” I said, rubbing the soft fur of the cat that had taken up residence on my lap.
“You let him fall in love with you. You can’t expect there to be no consequences.” He stepped back from his canvas, tilted his head to one side, and studied his work.
“Consequences?”
He did not answer for a moment, still looking at the painting in front of him. Then, all at once, he touched a brush to his palette and went back to work. “I’m an expert when it comes to such matters. It’s delicious to have people adore you, but it’s exhausting, too. Particularly when your own feelings don’t match theirs.”
“Is that how it is between you and Cécile?” I asked.
He laughed. “She would never allow that.”
“No, I would imagine not.” The cat slunk off my lap and stalked after Jeremy, who took no notice of it brushing against his legs.
“She and I are well suited. We understand one another,” he said.
Jeremy did not speak to me for the rest of the morning. I hoped this would change on our way to Herr Schröder’s house that afternoon.
“It’s colder today, don’t you think?” I asked once we were bundled into a fiacre.
“I hadn’t noticed.” He did not look at me, focusing instead on the buildings we passed. So intent was his stare I found myself following it, half expecting to find something stunning outside the coach rather than another row of elegant shops.
“It always feels colder here when the sun’s out. Why is that?”
