Fates for Apate Read online

  Fates for Apate

  by Sue London

  She was sent to the Congress of Vienna with one simple mission. Observe and report on the Prussian delegation. What she hadn’t expected was someone in the delegation observing her.

  Georgiana “George” Lockhart grew up as a Haberdasher, one of the girls trained by Robert Bittlesworth to be both armed and dangerous. She has her first assignment through the Foreign Office and needs to distract and use a man she assumes is an opposing agent.

  Casimir Rokiczana would do anything for his people. The Congress of Vienna seemed poised to tear his homeland apart and he is working frantically to find a voice with each of the Four Great Powers. In his experience men are often swayed by the opinions of their wives, but the English beauty he has chosen to woo to his cause seems to have more on her mind than a liaison.

  Fates for Apate

  (Haberdashers Book Three)

  by Sue London

  bysuelondon.com

  Amazon Edition

  Graythorn Publishing

  Copyright © 2014 Sue London

  All rights reserved

  Cover by Kim Killion, Hot Damn Designs

  This book may not be reproduced by any means including but not limited to photocopy, digital, auditory, and/or in print.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  To my sister. She knows why.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Where do I start? It takes a village. The prize in “listening to Sue talk about her book for hours and still managing to look interested and provide useful ideas and advice” goes to my husband. The prizes for inspiration go to my sister and best friend for her love of spy games, and my friends Ken and Sue, whose love of their Polish heritage is what drew me to pick that country for my hero.

  Thanks, as always, to Editor Kris (@gravewriter) for really getting it – and telling me when I don’t.

  Tremendous thanks to all the fans of the Haberdashers. You make this series even more fun to write. A special shout out to fan Talia (see? you’re special), so that she won’t duct tape me to my chair to make sure we get book four.

  “Good greeting, lady of wily mind and wily snares! Not Hermes Hoax-the-wits himself can outdo you…” ~ Hera to Apate

  “Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.” ~ Niccolò Machiavelli

  “Honor is purchased by the deeds we do.” ~ Christopher Marlowe

  CHAPTER ONE

  November 1814, London

  Georgiana Lockhart sat quietly, her hands folded primly in her lap. She didn’t know why Robert had summoned her to his office but hoped it was because he finally, finally was going to give her a real assignment. The hope of that sang in her blood. Whispered its promises in her ear. But outwardly she remained calm. Ladylike. Not that there was anyone in the office to see how she was behaving. Robert’s clerk had shown her in, saying that Robert would be there shortly. But almost a quarter hour had passed and there was no sign of him. She had already looked at all the items on his shelves and walls to confirm for herself that nothing had changed. She was tempted to go through the drawers in his desk, but couldn’t come up with a plausible excuse for why she might have been doing so if caught. Just as she was considering giving into the temptation anyway she heard the door open behind her.

  “Good morning, George,” Robert said, passing by her to sit behind his desk.

  “Good morning, Robert.”

  “All of your training reports have been excellent. You have received nothing but praise from your mentors.”

  George hid her smile. “Thank you, sir.”

  “What remains for me now is to find something to challenge you.”

  She remained perfectly still, maintaining a neutral, pleasant expression. Robert stared at her long past discomfort, but she knew that long silences didn’t bother Robert in the least. He often used them as a simple way to make others squirm.

  George refused to squirm.

  After some minutes had ticked by Robert laughed and sat back in his chair. “You’ve grown up, haven’t you, Georgie?”

  “I like to think so.”

  He tapped his finger against his lower lip. “Do you think you’re ready for another visit to your Aunt Martha in Scotland?”

  At last there was something to smile about. “I adore Aunt Martha.”

  Robert had invented her rich, controlling aunt as a way to give her time for some of her more intense training. Dear Aunt Martha held the promise of money and lands over the heads of the Lockhart family, but required that only her eldest niece attended her. In her overbearing way, rich Aunt Martha would send a carriage and maids to whisk George away. It said something of George’s parents that they acquiesced without complaint. Provided that a packet of funds was included in the exchange.

  “Well then,” Robert said with a ghost of a smile, “be prepared to leave for Aunt Martha’s within the week. Her letter will precede her carriage by two days.”

  “Is this to be more training then?” she asked politely, trying not to betray hope in her voice.

  “The training never ends, Georgie. But no, this isn’t training, it’s an assignment. We will discuss the particulars when you are prepared to leave. Until then, read the newspapers every day. It won’t hurt to be aware of current events.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “You are dismissed.”

  George nodded and rose gracefully from her chair. She gave Robert a small curtsy and left his office. As she made her way through the building she nodded and spoke pleasantries to some of the clerks she knew. None of them would have guessed her true state of mind. Her heart raced, her breathing was shallow, and she kept thinking ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ At long last, she had an assignment for England.

  George spent the walk from the Home Office to Twinings Tea and Coffee Shop settling her mind. It was chilly and damp. A bone cold, her mother would call it. But George was glad for the distraction of physical discomfort. She was to meet her good friend Jack Walters for tea and it wouldn’t do to have the exultation of her news written all over her face. Not that Jack was particularly good at reading her. Their other friend Sabrina Bittlesworth would be much more of a ch
allenge to keep secrets from, but fortunately Robert’s little sister was touring the Continent with their brother Charlie and Sabre’s mother, Lady Bittlesworth.

  It gave her a small pause to think that once she went on her assignment then Jack would be left here in London all alone. Well, not alone exactly. Jack had her family, including her little sister Sam who was due to make her bow come the spring Season. But it would be the first time that George could remember that there weren’t at least two Haberdashers together. It was a bit sad, really. But no matter. Jack was a woman grown at eighteen and hardly needed her friends hovering over her. Of course it was Jack who could actually hover, being the tallest of the three. George shook her head to clear it of such errant and chaotic thoughts. Jack would be fine.

  The bell on the door rang as George stepped into the warm and inviting teahouse. She spotted Jack almost immediately across the room but took a moment to absorb the scene. There were twelve customers in all and the matronly Mrs. Waterhouse was serving today. A fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace and conversations were a polite murmur. It was a good place, a wholesome place. George shrugged out of her cloak as Mrs. Waterhouse bustled over.

  “Oh, Miss Lockhart, you look to catch your death. Let’s hang that cloak up, shall we? Miss Walters has just ordered a pot.”

  “Sounds delightful, Mrs. Waterhouse. Thank you.”

  She saw Jack raise her head from the paper she had been reading, and stand upon seeing that it was her friend.

  “Early as usual, I see,” George groused as she drew near.

  Jack shrugged. “I still had some of the paper to read and thought I might as well do so here.”

  George could see it had been the financials section of the paper that Jack was poring over again. George had only a passing interest in financial speculation as she had no funds of her own to invest. She folded the paper over and set it aside as she sat down. Jack looked at it longingly for moment, then turned her attention to her friend.

  “Did you get post from Sabre?” Jack asked as she poured their tea.

  George nodded. “Indeed I did.”

  “Would you care for sugar or milk today?”

  George raised her eyebrow.

  Jack scowled. “It’s only polite to ask.”

  “Sabre isn’t here to correct us on our manners. Just give me my tea.”

  Jack handed over the cup of dark brew and started preparing her own. “Did she tell you about how they were lost outside Vienna?”

  “No, she didn’t. Most likely she knew we would compare stories.”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “We could just exchange letters, you know.”

  Jack frowned at her. Not just the irritated Jack frown, but the worried Jack frown. Drat.

  “What’s wrong, Georgie? You seem upset.”

  George felt all of her irritation and anxiety slip away as she donned a polite mask. “I’m sorry, Jack. I think I got cold on the walk over and it’s made me grumpy.”

  Her friend kept a keen mother-hen eye on her for a moment more, then nodded. “You always did have thin blood. It’s a wonder Scotland didn’t kill you while you were up there.”

  For a mere moment George felt a flare of guilt. She, Jack, and Sabre formed a club called the Haberdashers when they were children, and had made pledges of friendship and solidarity that only the young can freely make. To some degree it felt wrong to keep her professional activities from her friends. But it was her duty to do so. England first, then the Haberdashers. It was a decision she had made two years ago when she had started serious training and now was no time to go back on it. Even if it would be nice to share with someone how proud she was of herself for being granted an assignment. But no. This was the way that it had to be.

  And if she couldn’t tell Jack about her exciting news then it would be important to distract her friend from worry. Fortunately, distracting Jack was one of the things that George did best in the world.

  “Did you read the society pages this morning?” George asked around a bite of blueberry biscuit.

  “Of course not,” Jack said with a mildly reproving tone, although whether her judgment concerned George reading gossip or talking with her mouth full was a toss-up. Either way, it was a first step in leading Jack off the scent.

  “They have it on Good Authority that A Certain Gentleman was seen having private conversations with two widows. No doubt that was Lord Lucifer.”

  Jack wrinkled her nose. “I have no idea why you are so fascinated with that reprobate.”

  George hid her smile behind a sip of tea. At least half of her fascination with Lord Lucifer was how much the topic riled her friend. She shrugged carelessly. “Oh, you know, Sabre and I have always thought he sounded dashing. Since she’s not here to chat with about him, I thought you would indulge me.”

  It looked like Jack was trying very hard not to be ill-mannered enough to frown again while they were out in a public venue. “How Sabre can feel anything but revulsion for the man who ruined her brothers, I have no idea.”

  “Men don’t get ruined, love, that’s left to us.”

  “I meant it by the true definition of the word.”

  “Well, I don’t think they’re ruined. I think they are charming, handsome, and worldly.” Jack was nearly glowering so George knew it was time for a quick change to another topic. “Has your family decided how you’re all going to spend the Christmas season?”

  “In Town, no doubt. Yours?”

  “At the country house. You’re welcome to come with me, if you like.” George felt a bit disingenuous extending an invitation when she was fairly sure she wouldn’t be there herself, but was almost certain of Jack’s response.

  “No. I truly appreciate it, but I can’t imagine spending Christmas away from my family.”

  George could imagine it. Honestly the idea of being away from her family was heavenly, even without the excitement of her first real assignment. Hopefully the assignment would keep her away long past Christmas. In her mind the only true family she had was the Haberdashers. And that thought made her a bit more maudlin than she might have hoped. She grabbed Jack’s hands. “But I could paint you in the snow. It would become you, I think. A snowy field and you in a fur collar. All of that warmth you have inside you in defiance of the cold landscape.”

  Jack looked at her curiously. “George?”

  “And in the distance,” she added with a wicked smile, “a rider on a dark horse. Lord Lucifer, of course.”

  Her friend gave an indelicate snort. “Of course. But George, I haven’t seen you paint in, what, probably two years now?”

  “I haven’t been properly inspired.”

  “But the idea of making me sit in the snow for hours on end has inspired you?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but now that you mention it, that is an additional incentive.”

  “Perhaps I should remind you that you will need to sit in the snow to do the painting.”

  “Undoubtedly worth it.”

  Jack raised a brow. “I still never entirely know when you’re joking.”

  George withdrew her hands to go back to sipping her tea. “I’ve told you the answer before. Always. And never.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Casimir held a finger up to quiet his companion. There had been a footstep in the hall, he was sure of it. It was difficult enough slipping place to place in these giant marble halls without having to listen to Wladek’s unending chatter. He knew that his friend was nervous, but discovery would ruin their plans. Could even, depending on how it happened, prove deadly. After everything they had been through to position themselves here at the Congress of Vienna he couldn’t risk anything compromising this opportunity.

  Yes, footsteps, but growing fainter now as the person moved away. Soft footsteps, so a woman or boy. Casimir gave Wladek a warning glance and resumed his steady but silent path towards the meeting room that had been recently vacated. At best, they would find more information about Tz
ar Alexander’s plans for their homeland. At worst, they would have to explain being in a room they most likely should not be in. No, at worst they might be hanged for treason. Tensions remained high throughout the Congress and their connection to the Prussian delegation lent them scant protection against serious accusations. But Casimir would do anything for his people. Would sacrifice anything.

  “What is it you’re hoping for find?” Wladek whispered to him.

  Casimir gave his friend a roguish smile. “What I’m always hoping to find,” he whispered back. “The answer.”

  Wladek grimaced and went to watch the door.

  Rifling through the papers that had been left behind was tedious, but even something small could help to turn the tide. It didn’t help that he could read so little Russian. One paper caught his eye as he recognized the Russian spelling for Warsaw. He folded that sheet over and tucked it inside his jacket to puzzle out later at his leisure. Not that there was much leisure, since he had joined Hardenberg’s delegation as a junior diplomatic assistant in order to gain entrance to the Congress. To the best of Hardenberg’s knowledge, Casimir was a minor gentleman and Wladek his servant. That was close enough, really. Even though they shared blood, his cousin preferred the role of loyal vassal.

  Wladek hissed, “Are you done, książę?”