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“That depends upon who it was and why I thought they wanted me to,” she replied, hoping he would tell her more about Zorah. “Do you think she really believes it is true?”
He considered the question for several moments.
“I would find it difficult,” he said at last. “Gisela could have nothing to gain personally or politically by Friedrich’s death, and everything to lose. I don’t see how Zorah could fail to know that.”
“Do they know each other well?” It piqued her curiosity sharply. What would the relationship be between those two so different women?
“In a sense, as I think all women know each other when they have lived many years in such circumstances, amid the same circle of people. Their characters are quite different, but there are ways in which their lives are not. Zorah could very easily have been where Gisela was, had Friedrich been of a different personality, had he fallen in love with Zorah’s type of unsuitable woman instead of Gisela’s.” A sudden distaste marred his expression, and she realized with intense sharpness the degree of his anger against the woman who had disrupted the royal house and caused a prince to abandon his people and his duty.
“They couldn’t have quarreled over another man, could they?” she said aloud, still searching for reasons.
“Gisela?” Bernd seemed surprised. “I doubt it. She flirted, but it was only a sort of … a sort of exercise of her power. She never encouraged anyone. Certainly, I would swear she had no interest.”
“But Zorah could have, and if the man was in love with Gisela … Gisela must have had the most amazing charm, a magnetic allure.” She realized she was speaking of her as if she were dead. “I mean she must have still, I imagine.”
Bernd’s lips tightened a little, and he turned away, the sharp autumn sun on his face. “Oh, yes. One does not lightly forget Gisela.” His expression softened, the contempt fading. “But then you would not forget Zorah either. I think a political answer more probable. We are on the verge of a most dangerous time in our history. We may cease to exist as a country if we are swallowed up into a greater Germany by unification. On the other hand, if we remain independent, we may be ravaged by war, possibly even overrun and obliterated.”
“Then surely it seems most likely that if Friedrich was
killed, it was to prevent him from returning and leading the fight to retain independence,” she said with growing conviction.
“Yes …” he agreed. “If, in fact, he really was considering going home. We don’t know that he was. But it is possible that that is why Rolf was in England that month, in order to persuade him. Perhaps Rolf was closer to victory than any of us thought.”
“Then Gisela might have killed him rather than have him leave her!” Hester said with more triumph than was becoming. “Isn’t that what Zorah will say?”
“She may, but I find it hard to believe.” He looked back at her, a curious expression on his face which she could not read. “You didn’t know Friedrich, Miss Latterly. I cannot imagine the man I knew leaving Gisela behind. He would have made it the price of his return that he should take her with him. That I could believe easily. Or else he would have refused the call.”
“Then one of Gisela’s enemies may have killed him to prevent that,” she reasoned. “And at the same time perhaps they were passionately for unification and saw it as an act of patriotism to stop him from leading the fight for independence. Or could it be someone who was secretly allied with one of the other principalities, who hopes to become the leading power in a new Germany?”
He looked at her with sharpened interest, as if in some aspect he were seeing her for the first time.
“You have a very keen interest in politics, Miss Latterly.”
“In people, Baron Ollenheim. And I have seen enough of war to dread it anywhere, for any country.”
“Do you not think there are some things worth fighting for, even if it means dying?” he said slowly.
“Yes. But it is one thing to judge the prize worth someone else’s life, and another judging it worth your own.”
He looked at her thoughtfully, but he did not add anything further to the subject. She collected the marigolds, and he walked back towards the house with her.
* * *
Victoria accepted Robert’s apology and was quick to return only two days later. Hester had expected her to be uncertain in her manner, afraid of another attack sprung from a fear Robert could not help, or from anger which was only fear in disguise, and directed at her, because in his eyes she was less vulnerable than his parents.
Hester was in the dressing room next door, and she heard the maid showing Victoria in, and then her retreating footsteps as she left them alone.
Robert’s voice came clear and a little abashed. “Thank you for coming back.”
“I wanted to,” Victoria replied with certain shyness, and Hester could glimpse her back through the open crack of the door. “I enjoy sharing things with you.”
Hester could see Robert’s face. He was smiling.
“What have you brought?” he asked. “Sir Galahad? Please sit down. I’m sorry for not asking you to. You look chilly. Is it cold outside? Would you like me to send for tea?”
“Thank you, yes it is, and no, I’d like tea later, if I may, whenever you are ready.” She sat carefully, trying not to twist her back as she arranged her skirts. “And I didn’t bring Galahad. I thought perhaps not yet. I brought one or two different things. Would you like something funny?”
“More Edward Lear?”
