bound by secrecy? More probably he had imagined that she would hear of it from Charlotte today, and would have prepared her for that, regardless of protocol.
She saw Emily standing by her horse. She was easily distinguishable from the other women there by her slenderness, and the gleam of winter light on her knot of fair hair, visible beneath the brim of her exquisite riding hat, which was like a shallower version of a gentleman’s top hat, its brim slightly curled. Charlotte estimated the cost of it, and felt a flicker of envy.
She walked onto the gravel, which crunched under her boots.
Emily turned. She saw Charlotte and immediately started toward her.
“Good morning,” she said with a tentative smile, her eyes searching Charlotte’s. “Are you ready to ride?”
“Very much,” Charlotte replied. “I’ve been looking forward to it.” It was a strangely stilted conversation, nothing like the ease and good humor they usually shared.
Side by side, without meeting glances, they walked back to the grooms standing with the animals. They mounted and moved out at a walk. They nodded to other riders they passed, but did not speak to anyone, as there was no one with whom they were acquainted.
The longer the silence lasted, the more difficult it would be to break it. Charlotte knew she must say something, even if it was completely trivial. Words often meant little; it was the act of speaking that mattered.
“We’ve been thinking about moving,” she began. “Thomas asked me if I would like to, but I’m fond of the house on Keppel Street. A lot of important things have happened while we’ve been there, memories I like to live with, or at least I don’t want to let go of yet.”
Emily looked sideways at her. “But wouldn’t you like to live somewhere slightly larger? Perhaps on one of the squares? Or do you think it’s just a little early to move?” She meant, was Charlotte certain that Pitt would measure up to the job?
For a moment Charlotte did not answer. She was the elder, but she would always be socially the junior because of Pitt’s humble beginnings, and because Emily had a wealth Charlotte could never even dream of.
Emily colored uncomfortably and looked away, fussing with her reins as though she needed to guide her horse along this safe, flat, fine gravel and earthen path.
“It is always a good idea not to take success for granted,” Charlotte replied levelly. “Then, if one does fail, one has so much less distance to fall.” She saw Emily’s expression tighten. “But actually, I simply meant that I am not yet ready to leave a house so full of happy memories. I have no intention of entertaining, so we don’t require the extra rooms.”
“Surely you’ll have to entertain?” Emily asked. “And anyway, it’s such fun!” A smile flickered across her face.
“Yes, we will have to entertain. But only friends,” Charlotte said quickly, keeping her horse even with Emily’s. “And our friends are perfectly content with Keppel Street.”
“But in Thomas’s new position he will be expected to entertain people who are not necessarily your friends.” Emily raised her fair eyebrows. “There are certain social obligations with promotions, you know? Head of Special Branch is a great deal more than just a policeman, even a gifted one. You will have to get used to speaking easily to government ministers, ambassadors, and all kinds of other ambitious and useful people.”
“I doubt we would ever be able to afford a house fit to entertain people like that,” Charlotte said drily. “It’s a promotion, not an inheritance.”
Emily winced. “I didn’t realize you felt so badly about it. I’m sorry.”
Charlotte reined in her horse. “It?” she questioned.
Emily stopped too. “Money. Isn’t that what we’re talking about?”
“It’s what
“Don’t be so pompous!” Emily snapped back. “This is really about Jack having to tell Thomas he couldn’t see Lord Tregarron, isn’t it?” Her tone was challenging, almost daring Charlotte to deny it.
“Well, if we’re speaking of pompous …” Charlotte began.
“It was not-”
“Really?” Charlotte cut across her. “Well, it seems you know far more about it than I do. But then Thomas’s work is secret. He can’t tell anyone, even me.” She urged her horse on, moving ahead of Emily. She hated quarreling, especially with someone she cared for so deeply. It left her feeling unhappy and oddly alone. But she would not let Jack’s sudden promotion go to Emily’s head, or Jack’s for that matter, and allow them to thoughtlessly make worse Pitt’s sense of being out of his depth. Perhaps she was being unnecessarily protective, but then, so was Emily.
She reined in her horse again and waited until Emily caught up with her. Without meeting Emily’s eyes she started again.
“I don’t want to move yet. It’s taking things for granted that haven’t happened for certain. I would have thought you, of all people, would understand that. Your social position is assured, and your financial one, but you’ve a long way to go before you can say the same politically.”
“Is that Thomas’s opinion?” Emily was not yet mollified.
Charlotte forced herself to laugh. “I have no idea. He didn’t mention it. Why? Do you think Jack has very little further to go? That would be a shame.”
Emily muttered under her breath, and Charlotte knew very well that what she said was distinctly impolite.
While Charlotte was riding in Hyde Park, Pitt was already in his office at Lisson Grove asking for all the recent information Special Branch had gathered about any dissident groups in Central or Eastern Europe, particularly within the vast Austro-Hungarian Empire. The empire stretched from Austria itself eastward to include Hungary; south into northern Italy and down the Balkan Peninsula, encompassing Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, and Romania; and north to Bohemia, Moravia, Slovakia, and parts of Poland and Ukraine. Within its borders, twelve different languages were spoken and several major religions were observed, including Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, and Islam. Additionally, there was a large number of Jews in prominent and highly influential positions in Vienna, a place where anti-Semitism was deep, ugly, and growing. Unrest of one sort or another was normal there.
Vienna might be the cradle of all sorts of new thoughts in politics, philosophy, medicine, music, and literature, but it was also a city of sporadic violence, with a shadow of unease, as if there was some doom just beyond the horizon, waiting for the moment when all the gaiety would end.
Pitt had requested to see Evan Blantyre, whom he had met at the recent musical evening. Evan’s knowledge of the Austro-Hungarian Empire was extensive, and he might be able to offer the information and assistance Lord Tregarron had declined to provide.
He was pleasantly surprised when Blantyre agreed to see him almost immediately. Less than an hour later, Pitt stood in a pleasant anteroom, which had paintings of the Austrian Tyrol on the walls. He was there only briefly before he was ushered into Blantyre’s office. This was a large, comfortable room with a fire burning in the hearth, and armchairs on either side of it. There were worn patches on the carpet, and the color was faded from age and sunlight. The desk was old, the wood gleaming like satin.
“Good morning, Commander,” Blantyre said with interest, holding out his hand.
“Good morning, sir,” Pitt replied, accepting the greeting. “I appreciate your taking the time to see me so quickly. It may prove to be nothing of importance, but I can’t let this matter go until I know for sure.”
“Quite right,” Blantyre said. “Although I must say from the little you told my secretary, it all seemed rather coincidental, no real reason to suspect that any foreign visitor is the focus of an attack, if indeed an attack is even being planned.” He indicated the chairs near the fire and they sat down opposite each other.
“It is probably nothing,” Pitt agreed. “But a lot of issues start out as a whisper, one coincidence, and then another too soon after it, people showing an unexplained interest in something that appears to be harmless, but then isn’t.”
Blantyre smiled ruefully, curiosity lighting his face. “Well, how the devil do you know which coincidences matter? Is there an intellectual formula for it, or is it instinct, a particular skill?” His eyes were steady and bright. “Or something only experience can teach you, and perhaps one or two very near misses?”
