Part 8 (1/2)
”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 pa.s.sionately 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 princ.i.p.alities, 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?”
”I thought something much older. Would you like some Aristophanes?”
”I have no idea,” he said, making himself smile. ”It sounds very heavy. Are you sure it's funny? Does it make you laugh?”
”Oh, yes,” she said quickly. ”It shows up some of the ridiculousness of people who take themselves terribly seriously. I think when you can no longer laugh at yourself, you are beginning to lose your balance.”
”Do you?” He sounded surprised. ”I always thought of laughter as a little frivolous, not the stuff of real life so much as an escape.”
”Oh, not at all.” Her voice was full of feeling. ”Sometimes that is when the most real things of all are said.”
”You think the absurd is the most real?” He sounded puzzled, but not critical.
”No, that is not what I mean,” she explained. ”I do not mean the laughter of mockery, which devalues, but the laughter of the comic, which helps us to realize we are no more or less important than anyone else. What is funny is when things are unexpected, disproportionate. It makes us laugh because it is not as we thought, and suddenly we see the silliness of it. Isn't that a kind of sanity?”
”I never thought of it like that.” He was turned towards her, his face absorbed in concentration. ”Yes, I suppose that is the best kind of laughter. How did you discover that? Or did someone tell you?”
”I thought about it a lot. I had much time to read and to think. That is the magical thing about books. You can listen to all the greatest people who have ever lived, anywhere in the world, in any civilization. You can see what is completely different about them, things you never imagined.” Her voice gathered urgency and excitement, and Hester could see through the crack in the door that she was leaning forward towards the bed, and Robert was smiling as he watched her.
”Read me your Aristophanes,” he said softly. ”Take me to Greece for a little while, and make me laugh.”
She settled back in her chair and opened her book.
Hester returned to the sewing she was doing, and a little while later she heard Robert's voice in a loud guffaw, and then a moment after, another.
As Robert grew stronger and needed less constant care, Hester was able to leave Hill Street on occasion. At the first opportunity she wrote to Oliver Rathbone and asked if she might call upon him at his chambers in Vere Street.
He answered that he would be pleased to see her, but it would be necessary to restrict the meeting to a luncheon because of the pressure of the case he was preparing.
Accordingly, she presented herself at midday and found him pacing the floor of his chamber, his face showing the marks of tiredness and unaccustomed anxiety.
”How very nice to see you,” he said, smiling as she was shown in and the door closed behind her. ”You look well.”
It was a meaningless comment, a politeness, and one that could not be returned with any honesty.
”You don't,” she said with a shake of her head.
He stopped abruptly. It was not the reply he had expected. It was tactless, even for Hester.
”The Countess Rostova's case is causing you concern,” she said with a faint smile.
”It is complex,” he said guardedly. ”How did you know about it?” Then instantly he knew the answer. ”Monk, I suppose.”
”No,” she replied a trifle stiffly. She had not seen Monk in some time. Their relations.h.i.+p was always difficult, except in moments of crisis, when the mutual antipathy between them dissolved in the bonds of a friends.h.i.+p founded in instinctive trust deeper than reason. ”No, I heard from Callandra.”
”Oh.” He looked pleased. ”Would you accompany me to luncheon? I am sorry I can spare so little time, but I am having to deal with other matters rather hastily in order to try to gather some of the defense in what I am sure will prove a very public affair.”
”Of course,” she accepted. ”I should be delighted.”
”Good.” He led the way out of his office; through the outer room, past the clerks in their neat, high-b.u.t.toned suits, pens in hand, ledgers open in front of them; and out onto the street. They spoke of trivial matters until they were seated in a quiet corner of a public hostelry and had ordered a meal of cold game pie, vegetables and pickle.
”I am presently nursing Robert Ollenheim,” Hester said after the first mouthful of pie.
”Indeed.” Rathbone showed no particular interest, and she realized he had not heard the name before and it had no meaning for him.
”The Ollenheims knew Prince Friedrich quite well,” she explained, taking a little more pickle. ”And, of course, Gisela-and the Countess Rostova too.”
”Oh. Oh, I see.” Now she had his attention. The color deepened in his cheeks as he realized how easily she had read him. He bent his head and concentrated on eating his pie, avoiding her eyes. ”I'm sorry. Perhaps I am a trifle preoccupied. Proof for this case may be harder to find than I had antic.i.p.ated.” He looked up at her quickly with a slightly rueful smile.
A buxom woman pa.s.sed by, her skirts brus.h.i.+ng their chairs.
”Have you learned anything yet from Monk?” she asked.