Vince took a deep breath. 'There's a bit more, "Her Majesty the Queen is gravely concerned about the condition of the Grand Duchess, who is her god-daughter, as well as any danger threatening her favourite grandson, Kaiser Wilhelm."'
Faro had gone suddenly cold, vaguely remembering seeing the headline as it had lain idly within reach while he and Jamie played chess. If it had aroused any feelings at all, they would have been of congratulating himself that this was one royal murder plot that was no concern of his.
But Amelie... Amelie.
Memory rewarded him with a vision of her sleeping head on the pillow beside him while a storm raged beyond the bedroom window. His bedroom window, visible here from the garden.
He took the newspaper from Vince, hardly daring to read. The words swam before his eyes and Vince noticed that emotion made Faro's hand tremble.
He had tried to abolish Amelie from his thoughts over the years, but the possibility of the new baby in Sheridan Place being given the same name had touched a core of unease.
He had told himself long ago that his brief role in her life was over. By mutual consent the line had been drawn under it. Now old feelings awakened. How would he feel if she was already dead?
His mind sped back over the years. Back thirteen years to the brief wild passion and the official announcement of the royal prince's birth. 'After many years of marriage to President Gustav, Her Highness the Grand Duchess Amelie has given birth to an heir. Born prematurely, despite fears for his survival, the prince shows every sign of being a strong, healthy infant.'
A week later, Faro had received a letter with a Luxorian stamp. It contained a copy of the announcement and underneath in ink, the cryptic words, 'We have a son.'
No further information arrived, no further communication across the years. Nor did he want any more than that. The child had saved her life from the President who had already attempted to kill her for having failed to produce an heir, determined to usurp the throne and have his mistress and his natural son installed. A child was vital to save the kingdom and Amelie's life.
Faro could count as well as the next man but he had never told anyone of his suspicions concerning the child's conception, although he often thought that Vince knew and was troubled by the possible consequences of that brief interlude.
For years now it had only remained for Faro to convince himself he had misunderstood Amelie's cryptic message, sent only to reassure him that she was still alive, safe and well.
As time passed he began to believe it.
He had never told Imogen.
Chapter 3
Monday afternoon and had Faro any reason for gratitude, it was to the work on his lecture, which had needed all his powers of concentration. Fortunately it had also kept his mind from dwelling on the bombshell Vince and the newspaper had dropped on his life that Sunday afternoon.
Now, as the train steamed across the Perthshire countryside carrying him in the direction of Glenatholl College, he was again haunted by nightmare and indecision, remembering another train journey, across Europe with Imogen.
They had been close to the Luxorian border and Faro had shown a firm reluctance to visit a writer of Imogen's acquaintance who was living in the capital. Accompanying her never failed to reveal an unlimited swarm of exiled Irish writers and displaced artists, a world-wide fraternity of which Imogen, it seemed, knew every one.
How would she react to the outcome of a romantic encounter, too brief to be dignified as a love affair, he wondered anxiously. Would she even care, used as she was in her dealings with the suffrage of women to the less conventional aspects of a Bohemian life? Would she be sympathetic to a child whom he could never acknowledge as his own?
There was no action he could take. He was helpless to do more than watch and wait for the official newspaper reports, no easy task for a man used to swift decisive action all his life. If only he could travel to the Odenwald, find out for himself - there was always the excuse of Imogen as far as Vince and Olivia were concerned.
Had it been Luxoria he would have been tempted to leave on the next available train, throw caution to the winds. But that was hardly sensible. His German wasn't up to it yet, regardless of Amelie's insistence that Luxoria was very Anglophile, a common factor shared by many minority European states with close kinship to Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. According to Amelie, almost everyone - by that he had guessed she was referring to the upper classes and court circles - spoke fluent
English.
Faro was not convinced. His long association with the Edinburgh City Police had developed in him instinctive faculties of caution and tact in dealing with difficult and dangerous situations, particularly regarding impulsive action where personal emotions were involved.
Besides, his hands were effectively tied until after Glenatholl and his visit to Arles Castle. He regarded the latter in a hopeful light, not merely as an opportunity to renew an old acquaintance. Since Sir Julian had been an ambassador in various European courts, perhaps it would yield significant information about Luxoria.
'Perth!' shouted the guard.
Faro strolled along the platform with his overnight valise. He had declined the offer of being met by the Glenatholl carriage. There were always hiring cabs at railway stations, he had assured them. At least, such was the case in Edinburgh. Or was he being strictly honest? Was he merely delaying the moment of arrival at the college, of stepping down into a vast array of masters and pupils eagerly awaiting a famous man's arrival?
He did not want that. More
