Chapter 30
Count Frederick Althann stepped elegantly from the gleaming carriage, ignoring the bewigged footman holding the door for him.
His shrewd gaze swept along the grand facade of the von Starenberg mansion that gleamed a blinding white in the bright afternoon sun, like a great iced cake, with exuberant ornamentation flanking the tall windows and front entranceway.
He lifted his tricornered hat from his head with a practiced flourish and settled it under his arm, then turned to the driver.
“Wait here, man. I won’t be long.”
“As you wish, my lord.” The carriage driver nodded, tightening his grip on the reins. The two barrel-chested bays stamped their hooves at this restraint, their black manes and tails twitching impatiently.
Frederick walked up the marble steps and through the open doorway, his own impatience barely concealed beneath his polished veneer of nonchalance.
His final meeting with Hasan was scheduled for later that afternoon, at the same riverfront tavern where they had met the night before. He had little time for unexpected social calls, though this one he could hardly have refused. Rank and position always dictated special consideration.
Frederick handed his hat, gold-topped cane, and gloves to another footman, allowing himself just a moment to straighten his silk cravat. He had absolutely no idea why Archduchess Sophia had summoned him, and with such insistent urgency.
Their acquaintance stretched back several years, but it had always been on a purely superficial level.
They moved within the same aristocratic circle, attended many of the same court functions and galas, but that was the extent of their interaction.
He had long ago sensed in her a temperament much like his own, a dangerous combination he had done his best to avoid.
Theirs had been merely a relationship of flowered flattery, simple jests, and the most frivolous exchanges.
“Archduchess von Starenberg awaits you in the salon, my lord,” the footman intoned.
“Lead on, then,” he murmured, following the stiff-backed servant across the hall to a set of double doors. They were quietly opened, revealing a room of startling white and gilt, awash with sunshine streaming from tall, arching windows.
Yet there were candles burning in a glittering chandelier, the light reflecting off furnishings upholstered in the most opulent gold brocade. And ensconced on a wide divan, the archduchess herself, a stunning vision in scarlet satin embroidered with gold thread.
Easy, Frederick cautioned himself, his pulse racing at the sight of her seductive beauty. Do not forget your role. He extended a silk-stockinged leg in front of him and swept her a low bow.
“Count Althann… Frederick, if I may,” Sophia purred, a beguiling smile curving her lips.
What an amusing game this would be, she thought fleetingly, as he straightened once again.
She had not missed the hot flash of admiration in his ice-blue eyes, hardly the reaction a woman would receive from a man with a preference for boys…
“Please, come in.” Sophia gracefully waved her hand toward an armchair set near the divan. “Sit down.”
Frederick obliged her, affecting his most grandiose walk as he crossed the floor to the chair.
He sat down with fastidious poise, sweeping his coattails from beneath him and crossing his legs carefully at the knee, the better to show off his fine silk garters imported from Italy, and red-heeled shoes.
He leaned casually on one elbow, his gaze not meeting hers until he had flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his breeches.
“Are you comfortable?” Sophia asked, when it seemed he was finally settled.
“Oh, quite, my lady,” Frederick replied, pulling a white lace handkerchief from his pocket.
It was the fop’s counterpart to a lady’s fan, used for emphasis in speech, or to coyly hide an expression in its scented folds.
He pursed his lips, sniffing delicately.
“You sent for me with some urgency, Archduchess von Starenberg,” he began. “Might I inquire—”
“Please, call me Sophia,” she interjected, marveling at the pretty show he was affording her. If Adolph had not apprised her of this man’s true character and vocation, a spy for the Turks, no less, she would never have guessed it in a thousand years. His foppish performance was flawless.
Frederick was slightly taken aback by her intimate request, but he shrugged it off. Anything to indulge the lady, he thought dryly.
“Very well. Sophia,” he murmured, with a deferential nod. “Your invitation was most unexpected, and though I am charmed by your sudden interest, perhaps you could tell me why I have been so honored.”
“Of course, Frederick,” Sophia replied, leaning forward on the divan. “There is a certain matter I wish to discuss with you—”
A sharp rap on the door interrupted her, and she rose in a cool rustle of silk.
“Ah, I believe Adolph has brought us some refreshment,” she murmured. Perfect, my little man, she mused. You are right on cue.
Frederick glanced over his shoulder, blanching as a dwarf, swathed in a Turkish costume complete with turban and boots with curled-up tips, stepped into the room bearing a silver tray laden with crystal goblets and a tall decanter filled with deep red wine.
An unsettling feeling gripped him. He could swear he had seen that little man somewhere before. But where?
Sophia noted his expression with a satisfied smile.
All was proceeding exactly as she had planned.
Adolph stopped in front of her and held the tray while she poured wine into the two goblets, then she set the decanter on a nearby table and offered one of the goblets to Frederick.
He rose from his chair and accepted it, waiting as she lifted up her own.
“Leave us, Adolph,” she commanded softly. “But stand just beyond the door, in case I have need of you.”
Frederick’s gaze followed the dwarf as he quietly left the room. Then he looked back at Sophia.
“Surely you realize, my lady, that all things Turkish are banned in Vienna.” He sniffed, holding his handkerchief to his nose in feigned distaste. A reaction any outraged citizen would have made if presented with such a scene, he thought shrewdly.
Sophia waved off his comment. “Only a trifling indulgence on my part, Frederick, within the confines of my home,” she explained with a throaty laugh. “I am sure there are many in this city that harbor a fascination for…the Orient.”
Frederick’s hand tightened imperceptibly on the stem of his goblet, but he smiled and nodded. “It shall be our secret, then,” he offered gallantly.
“Our secret,” Sophia agreed, raising her goblet. She threw back her head, her topaz eyes alight with a strange fire. “Let us drink a toast, Frederick.”
“Very well.”
“To secrets…may they be well kept…and to our new alliance.”
The rim of the goblet stopped abruptly against Frederick’s mouth, some of the wine sloshing out and staining his cream silk cravat.
“Alliance?” he queried, perplexed, lowering the goblet to his side. “What alliance?”
Sophia set her glass down next to the decanter. Her wine, too, was untouched. Her smile had faded, replaced by an expression of deadly seriousness.
“Funny,” she murmured, almost under her breath. “If you were truly a fop, as you pretend to be, you would have been more concerned with your precious cravat than with what I have just said.”
Frederick set down his goblet and took a step toward her. “What are you talking about?”
“Cease your game, Frederick. It has grown tiresome,” she replied.
“I know everything about you. Everything.” Her eyes narrowed with cunning.
“Perhaps in the future, when you frequent decrepit taverns for your clandestine…meetings, you might do well to look about you first. You never know who might be listening.”
As if by an arranged signal, Adolph stepped into the room, grinning from ear to ear.
He leveled a cocked pistol at Frederick’s chest, knowing well that desperate actions were committed by desperate men.
“My lord,” he muttered with a slight bow of his turbaned head.
“Your costume today fits you far better than that of a Bohemian peasant.”
Frederick felt a sickening knot in his stomach, his thoughts racing.
The tavern… That’s where he had seen this ugly little dwarf, drooling into his beer!
Stunned, he looked from Adolph back to Sophia, her sinister smile sending a cold shiver through his body.
He longed for nothing more at that moment than to grab her by her slender throat and throttle the self-satisfied expression from her face.
Yet with the pistol trained at his heart, it appeared these two accomplices had thought of everything.
Except for the Emperor’s Guard, he mused darkly. If he was discovered, then where were the authorities? Surely Sophia was aware of the rich reward paid for the capture of spies.
Sophia’s dusky laughter broke into his thoughts as if she had read his mind.
“You’re far too precious a commodity to waste upon the bloody rack, Frederick.
And as you can see”—she waved her arm around the opulent room—“I have no use for the Emperor’s reward.
” She took a step toward him, her eyes flashing menacingly.
“What I do have need of is an assassin,” she stated bluntly.
Frederick understood immediately, though he said nothing. Obviously there was a bargain to be struck here, an evil one.
Sophia paced slowly in front of him, the heavy scent of her perfume drifting over him like an ominous cloud.
“You’re no fool, Frederick,” she began, studying his face.
“I’m sure you are aware that your life is forfeit if it becomes known you are a spy for the Turks.
But perhaps, to avoid such an unpleasant fate, you might consider taking on a certain task of a distasteful nature in itself, but one in which you would earn my undying gratitude…
and my silence.” She stopped in front of him. “Shall I go on?” she queried.
“Please,” Frederick muttered.
“Good. It’s quite simple, really. If you accomplish my task, then I will keep your secret. Now, what do you say?”
There was no choice but one, Frederick mused grimly. Life…or death.
“What is your task, my lady?” he asked quietly, an unspoken agreement passing between them. As she clapped her hands together with sheer pleasure, he could only guess as to the depths of her depravity.
“There is a young woman who must die,” she said simply. “Lady Kassandra Wyndham.”
Frederick’s eyes widened in shock, but again he held his tongue.
Sophia had not missed his response. “Yes, you know her. That simpering English girl,” she muttered bitterly, her almond eyes reflecting the intensity of her hatred. “She must die at once…for reasons that shall remain my own.”
At his terse nod, Sophia moved closer to him. “I do not wish to know of your method, Frederick. Just see that it is done. And one other thing,” she murmured, smiling faintly. “It must appear to be an unfortunate accident, or our agreement is waived. Do I make myself quite clear?”
Frederick could barely suppress a shudder. He did not doubt she meant exactly what she said. “Yes,” he said.
“Splendid,” she purred, trailing a cold finger down the side of his face.
“Oh yes, Frederick, I’d almost forgotten.
If you perhaps entertain any thoughts of revenge, I would suggest you consider such a move very carefully.
I’ve written a letter, which is in safekeeping, outlining everything we have discussed this day, including your chosen profession as a spy.
A letter that would certainly fall into the proper hands if, shall we say, anything should happen to me… ”
Bitch! Now he truly had no alternatives, Frederick thought. He was not only a spy, but a soon-to-be murderer. He might as well have sold his soul to the Devil, for it seemed that Satan and Sophia were one and the same.
Sophia moved away from him so suddenly, he was taken by surprise. She sat down on the divan and leaned back against its soft upholstery.
“You may leave us, Adolph,” she commanded. “I think we have nothing to fear from our handsome spy.” She waited until he had left the room, than she spoke again, her voice almost a whisper.
“Adolph told me something else about you, Frederick,” she murmured, stretching her arms languidly above her head. “I don’t think I believe those rumors about you anymore…that you prefer boys to women.”
Frederick appraised her heatedly, desire flaring within him at the open invitation gleaming in those unfathomable topaz depths.
So he was to be her whore as well. Well, there were worse fates, he considered with dark amusement. He walked slowly to the divan and knelt down beside her.
“Show me that you are a man, Frederick,” she breathed huskily, her arms snaking around his neck.
Her laughter echoed as he expertly forced her scarlet bodice down beneath her breasts, the voluptuous globes, high and firm, leaping into his hands. She laughed no more, but shrieked in wild delight as he bent his head over a taut nipple, and bit it.