Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Later that night, long after the household had settled into silence, Theo knocked softly on the door. "Mama, it's me. Can we talk?"

Lena opened the door, her eyes tired but alert. She had just returned from Hector and Les's room. Hector had buried himself under his blanket, refusing to speak. She'd sat on his bed in silence for a while, stroking his thick, dark hair, which was so similar to the Duke's. Then she dropped a kiss on his averted head and returned to her room with a sigh.

Theo stood barefoot in the corridor; his pale face scrunched into a worried frown. A rush of affection welled up in her as she looked at the boy who had been forced to grow up so quickly, stepping into the role of head of the family. It hadn't been easy for any of them since Simon died, but it had been especially hard on Theo, who had always tried to put on a brave front.

"Come in." She drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders and stepped aside .

Theo sat on the edge of her bed, a deep furrow in his brow. "I keep thinking about what happened today."

"I know." Her voice sounded as tired as she felt. "It's the most unsettling thing."

His gaze drifted to the intricate patterns on the drawn curtains. "I was just thinking. Wondering, actually."

"What were you wondering?"

"About that time…in Scotland."

Lena's breath caught. She knew exactly what he meant. "Almost nine years ago…"

"The accident," Theo continued. "If Papa hadn't found you…if he hadn't treated you…"

"…I would have died," she finished, her voice barely audible.

"You were almost dead, Mama. You were unresponsive for weeks. Then, somehow, you woke up."

Lena gently touched his cheek. "And yours was the first face I saw." A small smile tugged at her lips. "You were such a cheeky twelve-year-old."

Theo covered her hand with his. "But you couldn't remember anything. Not your name, not where you came from. That's why Papa gave you a name: Helena. When no one came to claim you, Papa took you in. You became our mama. You returned the happiness to us that we'd lost when my mother died. We were—we still are —happy."

"Yes," she whispered, forcing a smile as tears welled in her eyes. "I am your mama." Her voice grew firmer. "And I wouldn't want to be anyone else."

Fear gnawed at her heart—the fear of losing everything, of her family crumbling away, of the Duke who threatened to take it all from her. Already, the foundations of her life were shaking, the walls of her sanctuary cracking.

She shivered.

Theo swallowed hard. "When you saw them today—those people who might be your old family—you didn't remember anything? Didn't you feel anything? Nothing at all?"

Lena hesitated, then shook her head. "No. I have no memories of being a duchess. He could have been a shoemaker claiming me as his wife, and it would have meant the same to me."

"But the birthmark…not only one, but two of them, and there were three people who recognized you, who claimed you. And Hecki…Mama, you can't just ignore all that."

A dull ache began to throb in her temples.

"I want to ignore it," she whispered.

"They were your family first," he pressed on. "They lost you. All those years, they thought you were dead."

The silence between them grew heavy, like a weight neither could lift.

Then he spoke again, mercilessly. "They loved you too, Mama. Maybe as much as we love you now. Maybe even more."

Her hand trembled as she raised it, as if to ward off his words which were a dagger to her heart.

"What will you do now?" Theo's question hung in the air .

She looked at him, her eyes filled with helplessness. "I don't know." Her voice broke. "I simply don't know."

The best thing, Lena decided the next morning, was to keep it a secret. If she could just ignore it, perhaps it would fade away, lost in the routine of daily life. The faster she forgot all about this and moved on with her life, the better. The Duke would disappear, together with his claim on her and Hector, and she could live happily ever after with her family. She vowed that nothing—no one—would take her away from her children. Theo's words lingered at the edge of her mind, but she pushed them aside with determined resolve. She simply refused to think about it. That was the plan.

But this was Vienna—Metternich's Vienna, to be precise—and it was permeated by a spy-network so dense that not a fly could pass through without being caught in its web. "One cannot sneeze without Prince Metternich hearing about it," one visitor was said to have lamented. Thus it was highly unlikely that the Duke of Aldingbourne's personal visit to a most unfashionable suburb of Vienna, namely that of the General Hospital—complete with a morgue and a lunatic asylum—would go unnoticed.

"So he finally found his way there," Baron von Hager, head of the secret police, commented, as he read the dépêche through his monocle. "Took a while longer than I thought it would. What did they discuss? "

Agent August had to confess that he did not know.

Hager threw down the missive impatiently. "More intelligence, Agent August. More intelligence! What are we paying you for?"

Agent August raced back to the Arenheim home, heels clicking against the cobblestones. He was now sitting at the kitchen table, to which he had invited himself. He had knocked at the kitchen door and found Frau Arenheim furiously making plum dumplings.

"Well?" he asked.

Lena held a plate with dumplings under his nose. "Here, have some. They really are quite good."

August pushed the plate aside. "You have to tell us what he was doing here for an entire two hours and fifteen minutes. What did he say, wear, do, and eat?"

"Who?" Lena's eyes widened in mock ignorance.

"The Emperor of China," August growled.

"I haven't seen an emperor here." Lena pierced a fork into a dumpling and bit into it. "It's really good. Are you certain you don't want any?"

"If you're trying to butter me up by feeding me, it won't work," he said as his stomach growled. "Here are the facts: the Duke of Aldingbourne, his sister Lady Evangeline and his secretary Mr Emil Mortimer visited your home yesterday at one in the afternoon and left at three fifteen. What do you have to say about this?"

She pondered on the matter as she licked the sugar from her fingers.

"You know," August said with a sigh. "You can prevaricate and evade as much as you like, but sooner or later we will find out the answer. If Hager discovers you're not cooperating, everything will be null and void, and you'll be of no use to us." He leaned forwards. "No more musical opportunities. No more easy money. With that in mind, don't you think it would be better if you just told me directly? ‘Twould save us all some trouble."

Lena looked at the man sitting at her kitchen table with a steep frown on her face. Strands of greasy black hair hung into his forehead, and he looked younger than she initially thought he was. Possibly around her own age. She thought about what he'd said.

August was right; sooner or later the truth would come out anyway. Better they heard it directly from her. Secondly, if they indeed knew everything about everyone, couldn't that be of use to her? The secret police had all the information at their fingertips.

Lena pursed her lips. "You may have a point. Very well. I will tell you what happened." She pointed the fork at him. "But in turn, you will help me to uncover the truth of the matter."

"Uncovering the truth is what we specialise in," August said, crossing his arms, then he listened in silence. He was so absorbed in her story that he'd involuntarily picked up a fork and ate not one, but two plum dumplings.

"What do you think? A mad sort of tale it is, is it not?" Lena said as she finished.

He rocked his head back and forth. "I'd have to check my sources. What I know about the Duke of Aldingbourne is as follows." He ticked them off with his fingers. "It is true that he is a widower. There were no offspring, at least not that we know of. He has never remarried and with the exception of you, shows no interest in women or chasing lightskirts. In this he differs greatly from the other visitors to the Congress." August curled his lips in disgust. "You wouldn't believe the bed-hopping that's going on, especially between the Princess Bagration, the Duchess of Sagan, Metternich, and the Tsar. Metternich enters the palais, visits the Duchess on the right, then leaves her apartment a few hours later to go to the door on the left where the Princess lives."

Lena's mouth fell open. "Really? Tell me more."

"For example…" He lifted his fork, ready to spill more gossip. Then he frowned and stopped, shaking his head. "What am I doing? I digress. This is not a gossip session over a cup of coffee. Read the papers tomorrow, it will all be in there. Back to the topic at hand. You said the Duke was your husband."

Lena wrung her hands. "That's what he claims."

"Hm. He recognised not one, but two birthmarks, you say. His secretary and sister identified you as well. That seems to me sufficient evidence that you are his wife." He tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. "Do you really not remember him?"

Lena crossed her arms tightly. "No, I don't. What if it's all a coincidence?"

"A coincidence, really?" He leaned forwards, his eyes gleaming. "Do you know how his wife died?"

She shook her head. She had thrown them out before the Duke had had a chance to tell his story.

"The Duchess of Aldingbourne died in a carriage accident in Scotland. Somewhere near the border. Wasn't that where you, too, had your accident?"

A chill ran through her. She shivered as her breath caught in her throat.

"In Scotland," she whispered. "A carriage accident."

"Yes. A massive coincidence, isn't it?" Satisfied, he leaned back and helped himself to a final dumpling. "None of what you told me is news to me."

She sat up straight. "What do you mean?"

"I mean to say that we already knew about all this," he said with a full mouth, waving his fork around.

Lena fell back into her chair. "Are you saying you knew about me possibly being the Duchess before you even approached me, asking me to spy for you?"

August grinned. "Naturally, Your Grace. The order came from the very top."

"The very top? You mean—" Lena took a sharp intake of breath. "Metternich." The man played with them like pieces in a chess game.

Her hand shook when she rubbed her forehead. "How on earth did Metternich know…"

"We know everything." August wiped his fingers on the tablecloth. "Whether you think you are the Duchess or not, whether you remember the man, or not, do one thing for us, please."

"And what would that be?" she asked warily.

"Play along."

She pressed her lips together. Then, after a brief pause, she said, "Why should I do that? What would I gain?"

"You might gain more than you think. A rich husband for one, a noble one with a title." He laughed darkly. "You won't ever have to lift a finger to work again. You can drape yourself with diamonds, bathe in milk and honey, and eat caviar all day."

"I don't care for that," Lena replied stiffly. "That kind of life would be a lie if I don't remember him as my husband."

"A lie for Kaiser and fatherland. As his wife, you'd have direct access to a most influential Congress member at all hours of the day." He paused to reflect. "And at night, too, of course. It would be handsomely rewarded."

"It is unethical."

"Yes." He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "But you'd do it for the children. Have you forgotten the poorhouse?"

Lena sat perfectly still.

"And lastly. There is something you have not considered. Wives are replaceable. They are easily set aside, particularly by men in that class. Why, then, should it matter whether you really are truly the Duchess? This isn't about you at all."

A heavy weariness seeped into her bones. "Then pray tell me who it is about if not me."

"You can protest all you want that you are not his wife, but if the Duke acknowledges Hector as his son, he'll whisk him away to England—with or without you. As his heir, Hector will be more valuable to him than all the diamonds in the world, and the law will be on the Duke's side. He won't need you at all, especially if you prove to be troublesome. Wives are—as we have already established—replaceable. "

An icy dart of terror pierced Lena.

"But never fear," August continued with a cold smile. "We'll protect you no matter what happens, whether you truly remember him or not, whether you are the Duchess or not. It is very much in your interest to play along and be the Duke's good little wife, if only to be able to stay with your son."

He leaned forwards, his words heavy with warning.

All the blood had drained from her face, for he had just expressed her deepest fear.