Karl threw back his head and laughed. “Good God, Cohen, you are bribing me to stop my kicking up a fuss about poor Uncle Arthur. Yes, yes, I accept your peace offering. Good idea.”
Cohen nodded solemnly. He pulled out a small notebook and made a notation in pencil.
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Karl swallowed the last of his tea and grinned at Reese. He"d never grow used to that smile that seemed to stab into him with its beauty. “I hope you will allow me, or rather Cohen, to request my uncle send you an invitation to attend his gala.
It should make the evening much less tedious for me if you were there.”
There was an offer Reese couldn"t refuse, an invitation to be present at the suspicious event given directly to him. It was his turn to nod. “That would be lovely, Your Excellency, and thank you. I should very much enjoy attending the event.”
“Very well, then.” Karl"s smile was so brilliant, it nearly hurt Reese"s eyes as if he were staring into the sun. “I will look forward to seeing you then, if not sooner.”
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“I am grateful for your patience, Uncle Arthur. I had strictly forbidden our servants from interfering with your guest lists.” Karl certainly had, and more than once, even if his disapproval hadn"t stopped him from adding one more name to his uncle"s list.
“
Pfah
. I"m well used to the von und zu Neuschlosswold-Binder habits by now.
The count isn"t going to allow anyone—not even you—to change long-standing protocol.”
“That"s quite true,” Karl said, and as usual, he managed to hide the surge of irritation he felt whenever he thought of his father"s high-handedness.
Or maybe he didn"t hide it so well from Uncle Arthur. His uncle patted his shoulder. “Got to expect it with any sort of visit from your lot. At least your father hasn"t sent along a small company of armed soldiers this time.”
Karl grinned and scanned the room once more.
“Nephew, you appear to be expecting someone. Was there perhaps a particular young lady you"d hoped to see tonight?” Karl"s uncle smiled and winked. Lord Arthur Merridew was Karl"s favorite relative. The man"s face and manner reminded him of the mother he barely remembered, Honoria Merridew. His mother had left his father to return to her relatives in England when Karl was still a child. He"d bounced between the two households like an india-rubber ball. But times spent at his uncle"s country estate in Buckinghamshire were among his fondest boyhood recollections.
“No one in particular,” Karl responded lightly. “There are so many lovely ladies here, I should be hard pressed to say which is the most beautiful or well bred.
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No. It is the man I told you who saved my life that I am expecting. He will be a stranger here, so I want to be ready to greet him when he arrives to save him any social discomfort.”
There, that sounded plausible and not like he wanted to see his new acquaintance for any other, more personal reason. The truth was that he was as excited about seeing Jonathan again as a debutante about to attend her first ball.
He hadn"t encountered the man since the other morning at breakfast. Jonathan had made no attempt to contact him again and had rebuffed Karl"s invitations to dine, drink, or take an excursion boat on the Thames. He"d even delivered Karl"s pistol indirectly. Karl had wondered over the past few days if Jonathan still watched him from a distance. The thought of the other man"s gaze on him made him hot. So yes, he was intrigued at the prospect of seeing Jonathan again tonight and a bit nervous the spy wouldn"t show.
Karl adjusted the cuffs of his shirt so they extended the proper length below the elaborately embroidered sleeves of his coat. God, he hated putting on full regalia, but it was expected of nobility to look impressive at events like this. He wore a navy blue dress uniform with epaulets and enough gold cord, tassels, brass buttons, and beribboned medals to choke a horse. The thing was patently ridiculous, horribly hot, and uncomfortable.
His uncle introduced him to a succession of names and titles with faces that left little impression on Karl, although he was trained well enough to memorize both names and faces even as his thoughts drifted elsewhere. He was too busy cutting glances toward the door to see if Jonathan had arrived yet. He hoped he hid his distraction from his uncle"s guests. It wouldn"t do to offend anyone by giving the appearance of snobbishness. And so he smiled wider and clasped hands even more warmly and forced himself to keep his gaze on the blur of faces.
“Pleased to meet you, madam” with a bow and a kiss to the back of a gloved hand. “I"ve heard much about you from my uncle, sir. It"s an honor to meet you”
with a click of the heels and a smaller bow. Another man earned a mere nod of his The Nobleman and the Spy
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head. Karl had been raised to know the proper depth of a bow in relation to a person"s importance and the appropriate tone to adopt in any given situation.
Sometimes he enjoyed following the rules, as if they all played some sort of elaborate game. On other days, the falseness of the entire show made him ill. For his uncle, he"d put out his best effort.
Yet he couldn"t contain his restlessness and found himself looking at the line of people he must still receive and calculating the time before he could make excuses and take a break for a breath of fresh air in the garden.
And then he saw Jonathan standing in the crowd, and Karl forgot to let go of the hand he was shaking as he stared at the man who had got under his skin, though God alone knew why.
Jonathan Reed was of average height, average build, and average looks, and tonight he wore a very average suit that did not stand up well in a room full of ladies in lovely ball gowns and men in gleaming black eveningwear or overdecorated dress uniforms. But to Karl, he shone like a beacon in the crowd and stood head and shoulders above the other men. He wore a sober, reserved air along with his shabby suit, which made him appear more substantial and deeper than his preening counterparts with their waxed moustaches and pomaded hair. Jonathan was as simple as a country parson, but Karl was drawn to him like a bee to the most colorful flower in the garden.
Maybe it was this somber aspect that drew Karl, since his own nature was more flamboyant. Jonathan seemed to have a stillness about him, an ability to sit quietly and take things in. He reminded Karl of a pool with a smooth surface and all sorts of dark, hidden depths. And every time Karl saw the pool, he was compelled to drag his hand through it and ruffle the waters. He just had to splash around, and he wanted to dive deep and see what secrets lay at the bottom.
“Pardon me,” Karl murmured to Mr. Robert Something-or-other. “I see an old friend I must greet.” Karl passed through the queue of people still waiting to meet him, bestowing smiles and nods, and headed toward Jonathan.
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“Mr. Reed, we meet again. I"d begun to think you were going to cut me and not come tonight.” Karl felt himself smiling more broadly than was fitting, but he couldn"t seem to wipe the grin of pleasure off his face.
Jonathan gave a stiff little bow. “Thank you for inviting me.”
That’s it? That’s all you have to say
? Couldn"t the man behave a little warmer, perhaps offer a smile at least? Although he understood the necessity for circumspection, Karl was tired of pretending Jonathan was a stranger to him.
“You still haven"t allowed me to truly thank you for saving my life. I thought the least I could do was invite you to my uncle"s little gathering.” He bent closer and murmured, “Although I honestly couldn"t say whether this is a reward or a torture.
I shall introduce you to some of these people, and you decide.”
A hand dropped on Karl"s arm as Uncle Arthur came up beside him. “Is this the man I have to thank for saving my nephew"s life?”
“Lord Arthur Merridew, may I introduce Mr. Jonathan Reed,” Karl politely supplied.
“Honored to make your acquaintance, Lord Merridew.” Jonathan gave a polite bow.
“Your family"s from Devonshire, Mr. Reed? I believe I recognize a trace of an accent. My family has a small estate there, and I must admit I much prefer the countryside to my London home.” Uncle Arthur was a glib speaker who could make anyone comfortable while drawing out all the details of their lives.
Karl stood back and let him do what he was good at. Already his uncle had added to what little he knew about Jonathan, a simple grocer"s son from Devonshire. Karl watched his uncle gently thrust with pointed questions and Jonathan delicately parry with vague answers. It was highly entertaining, although not as entertaining as taking Jonathan to a secluded room for a breathless, highly dangerous encounter would have been. Karl imagined flipping up the tails of Jonathan"s frock coat, pulling down his trousers to expose his taut bottom, and rogering him hard. Both of them would pant and grunt while the noise of the party The Nobleman and the Spy
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floated through the cloakroom wall, a reminder of how close they were to discovery.
Exhilarating! It made him hard just thinking of it. Thank heavens for the long jacket that hid his growing erection.
Karl plucked a pair of drinks off a tray as one of the servers passed. He intercepted Uncle Arthur"s questioning by handing Jonathan a glass of champagne.
“All right, Uncle, I think you"ve interrogated Mr. Reed sufficiently. He"s a very private individual who doesn"t like to share the details of his life.”
Jonathan accepted the long-stemmed glass and sipped from it. His eyes met Karl"s over the rim, only for a moment, but the heat exchanged made Karl"s heavy uniform even more unbearable.
“I should love to breathe some fresh air. Care to take a quick turn around the garden with me, Reed?”
Suddenly Cohen was at his elbow, ready to accompany them.
“I don"t need a guard, Cohen,” Karl muttered in German. “Leave off, would you?”
“Do not be traduced by ignorant tongues, sir,” Cohen whispered back.
Cohen had been reading Shakespeare again. He tended to pick out odd bits and pieces, but Karl knew what he was trying to say. Avoid creating gossip. People would wonder what business the erbgraf had with this stranger and why he stepped out of the party almost immediately after the man arrived. This was not the time or place to play games in the garden. He knew that. He simply wanted to be free of the stuffy rooms for a few minutes.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Attend us. But stay at a distance, please.” He turned to Jonathan. “Shall we, Mr. Reed?” he asked aloud in English.
“As you wish.” Jonathan"s face was neutral, and he fell into step beside Karl.
The crowd parted before them as they made their way to the door, but Dr.
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outside?” he asked in German. He scanned Jonathan with a barely concealed grimace. “Do you think that is wise?”
“Yes, I do.” Karl swept past him. There were some benefits to being a noble. He didn"t have to explain himself to his underlings—except Cohen, whom he respected too much to ignore. The man had been too right too often since he"d joined Karl"s retinue. He"d saved Karl from any number of small embarrassing episodes, such as the time Karl had accidentally given the cut direct to the wife of a Russian diplomat. And he never mentioned Karl"s personal affairs to the
graf
, though Karl knew that was one of his main duties.
The brick-walled garden was a little bit of heaven after the overheated, noisy rooms where too many bodies were packed into too small a space. Their polished shoes crunched over gravel pathways that meandered pleasingly between beds of flowers and ghostly white marble statues.
The musical splashing of water came from a fountain in the center of the garden, but Karl headed away from it, into the darker reaches of the garden, farther from the house. He cast a sharp glance at Cohen over his shoulder, and his servant dropped back, leaving them to walk alone.
“You"ve been avoiding me.” Karl stopped and turned to face Jonathan. He"d meant to say it offhandedly, with amusement in his voice, but the words came out a bit sullen and accusatory. He was surprised to realize he"d been hurt by Jonathan"s rebuffs to his invitations that week. When had something like that ever bothered him before? Men, lovers, came and went from his life. If one dropped away, there was always another to replace him. This was the first time Karl had ever felt quite so annoyed when a man chose not to fall in line with his plans.
“I was occupied,” Jonathan said briefly.
“Really? I thought your occupation was spying on me.”
“Which is better done from a distance.” That cool, collected voice was infuriating.
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“And what did you find out? Are there lurking dangers, other spies, plots against me?”
“Yes, I believe there are,” Jonathan stated flatly. “Which is why I came tonight. I believe there may be a plan afoot for this very evening.”
Despite his attempt to act blasé, Karl felt a jolt of surprise and fear shoot through him at Jonathan"s calm pronouncement. This was more information than Jonathan had shared with him yet, and without any cajoling at all. “Here at my uncle"s house?”
“Where else would you feel most at ease?”