yearned to be repaired. But her heart would never be whole again. He had left with more than half of it, and she only had a cold pit where it had once resided.
"Where is Von Rosen?" Her brother's voice, but he sounded very far away.
"I don't know," she said.
"He just deposits you here and leaves?"
"He said he needed to talk to you."
"Of course he needs to talk to me. What sort of man escorts my sister on a week-long trip alone ?"
"Erich was with us most of the way."
"Who the bloody hell is Erich?"
"Hans' man. He drove the coach."
"It's Hans now, is it?"
That drew her attention. "Yes, it's Hans. When did you become so autocratic?"
"Apparently when my sister decided to travel half the continent with a man she didn't know. How is it supposed to make me feel better that Erich was there? Why didn't Hans bring a maid as your chaperone?"
"I wanted to travel quickly, so we kept our party small and traveled under guise of man and wife."
"Krystyna! What were you even thinking? Did you stay alone with him?"
She didn't answer, merely glowered at him.
"When I get my hands on him he'll be lucky to live long enough to be leg shackled."
"Hans was a perfect gentleman. He does not wish to marry me and I am already engaged."
"Yes, to the esteemed Gregor Eichen, who makes me look a giant. How will you explain to him when you birth a blond son that will outgrow him by five years old?"
"As I said," she responded tightly, "Hans was a perfect gentleman."
"Then where is he?"
She turned her attention back to the middle distance of the alleyway. For the rest of her life she would ask herself where Hans was, and the only answer she would know was that he was nowhere nearby, and that his absence chilled her. She wrapped her arms around herself.
Her brother made a frustrated noise and left the portico. Some time later his wife came out with a shawl and guided her inside.
Krystyna pulled away. "You don't need to be nice to me, I know I've been horrid."
"It might be easier to push you off into the shrubs to freeze to death, but think of all the explaining I would have to do."
Krystyna looked at her sister-in-law, really looked at her for the first time. Features that would have been elegant if not for the devilish grin. Pale, almost wan in appearance. With little effort the girl could be an icy beauty. Instead, she had her hair in a haphazard bun and a penchant for sly humor.
"I think I've ruined everything," Krystyna admitted quietly.
"Of course not! Well, probably not. I know that you want Casimir to change his mind, but he will do what he thinks is right. Your mistake is in assuming that it's easy for him."
Krystyna looked at her sister-in-law for some minutes before saying, "Doing what is right is rarely easy."
Chapter Thirteen
Hans awoke to a steady tapping sound. Gods, was it those infernal clocks again? He didn't remember falling asleep in the downstairs study. Blinking in the dim light he tried to remember where he was. Grimy windows. Not the study. Not even Prussia. The sour smell, the rough sheets. The blasted London inn. The tapping sound stopped.
"Awake, then?"
Hans blinked to bring Casimir Rokiczana into focus, sitting in a straight-backed chair near the bed. The man looked terribly out of place here, from the sheen on his violet superfine coat down to the tips of his highly polished boots. Boots that appeared to be the source of the tapping sound as the young Polishman began jiggling his leg again.
"It took me near a week to find you. Not true. It took me near a week to not find you, and then I called in a favor."
Hans rolled over onto his back, aching in every muscle as though he had gone a round with a bear. "Why did you need an hour in Vienna?"
The tapping stopped again. "Really? No 'How have you been keeping yourself, Casimir?' No 'Why did you need to track me down?' Not even, 'I'm terribly sorry I compromised your sister'?"
"Is that what she said?" He sat up and snagged the bottle of
"Where is Von Rosen?" Her brother's voice, but he sounded very far away.
"I don't know," she said.
"He just deposits you here and leaves?"
"He said he needed to talk to you."
"Of course he needs to talk to me. What sort of man escorts my sister on a week-long trip alone ?"
"Erich was with us most of the way."
"Who the bloody hell is Erich?"
"Hans' man. He drove the coach."
"It's Hans now, is it?"
That drew her attention. "Yes, it's Hans. When did you become so autocratic?"
"Apparently when my sister decided to travel half the continent with a man she didn't know. How is it supposed to make me feel better that Erich was there? Why didn't Hans bring a maid as your chaperone?"
"I wanted to travel quickly, so we kept our party small and traveled under guise of man and wife."
"Krystyna! What were you even thinking? Did you stay alone with him?"
She didn't answer, merely glowered at him.
"When I get my hands on him he'll be lucky to live long enough to be leg shackled."
"Hans was a perfect gentleman. He does not wish to marry me and I am already engaged."
"Yes, to the esteemed Gregor Eichen, who makes me look a giant. How will you explain to him when you birth a blond son that will outgrow him by five years old?"
"As I said," she responded tightly, "Hans was a perfect gentleman."
"Then where is he?"
She turned her attention back to the middle distance of the alleyway. For the rest of her life she would ask herself where Hans was, and the only answer she would know was that he was nowhere nearby, and that his absence chilled her. She wrapped her arms around herself.
Her brother made a frustrated noise and left the portico. Some time later his wife came out with a shawl and guided her inside.
Krystyna pulled away. "You don't need to be nice to me, I know I've been horrid."
"It might be easier to push you off into the shrubs to freeze to death, but think of all the explaining I would have to do."
Krystyna looked at her sister-in-law, really looked at her for the first time. Features that would have been elegant if not for the devilish grin. Pale, almost wan in appearance. With little effort the girl could be an icy beauty. Instead, she had her hair in a haphazard bun and a penchant for sly humor.
"I think I've ruined everything," Krystyna admitted quietly.
"Of course not! Well, probably not. I know that you want Casimir to change his mind, but he will do what he thinks is right. Your mistake is in assuming that it's easy for him."
Krystyna looked at her sister-in-law for some minutes before saying, "Doing what is right is rarely easy."
Chapter Thirteen
Hans awoke to a steady tapping sound. Gods, was it those infernal clocks again? He didn't remember falling asleep in the downstairs study. Blinking in the dim light he tried to remember where he was. Grimy windows. Not the study. Not even Prussia. The sour smell, the rough sheets. The blasted London inn. The tapping sound stopped.
"Awake, then?"
Hans blinked to bring Casimir Rokiczana into focus, sitting in a straight-backed chair near the bed. The man looked terribly out of place here, from the sheen on his violet superfine coat down to the tips of his highly polished boots. Boots that appeared to be the source of the tapping sound as the young Polishman began jiggling his leg again.
"It took me near a week to find you. Not true. It took me near a week to not find you, and then I called in a favor."
Hans rolled over onto his back, aching in every muscle as though he had gone a round with a bear. "Why did you need an hour in Vienna?"
The tapping stopped again. "Really? No 'How have you been keeping yourself, Casimir?' No 'Why did you need to track me down?' Not even, 'I'm terribly sorry I compromised your sister'?"
"Is that what she said?" He sat up and snagged the bottle of
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