Congratulations to Christy, who won last week’s drawing for a Vienna Waltz ARC. Christy, watch for an email from me so I can get your address and send the ARC on its way.
This week’s post is another excerpt from Vienna Waltz. This is a scene between Charles/Malcolm and Prince Talleyrand that occurs fairly early in the book.
Once again, I’ll be giving away an ARC to one of this week’s commenters. Lauren Willig had a great “Five Days of Pink Carnation” contest on her blog last week, for one of which she asked the wonderful question of what you would get the Pink Carnation for Christmas. In the spirit of imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, I can’t resist taking off on this. So for this week’s contest, let me know what you think Charles and Mélanie should give each other for Christmas. Suggestions can be serious or whimsical, period appropriate or what you think they would give each other if they lived today. I’ll draw a name and post the winner next weekend.
I’ve also just posted a new Fraser Correspondence letter from Raoul to Mélanie.
Happy mid-winter holidays!!!
In the quiet precincts of the Johannesgasse, Charles rang the bell at the yellow plaster façade of the Kaunitz Palace. Less luxurious than the British delegation’s lodgings in the Minoritenplatz but a handsome building all the same. A footman in gray livery took his card and said he would inquire if Prince Talleyrand was at home.
Charles waited on a green velvet bench beside one of the stucco festooned windows in the hall. Whether or not Talleyrand would consent to an interview was an open question. Charles was bargaining on the prince’s need for the support of the British delegation but also on his own personal history with the French Foreign Minister.
His first memories of Prince Talleyrand went back to the age of five. He and his brother had been riding in their mother’s barouche in Hyde Park, a rare treat. An elegant gentleman leaning on a walking stick stopped to speak with their mother. A cloud of powder rose from his hair as he bent in a courtly bow. Charles could still remember how the powder had tickled his nose (powder was becoming a rare sight in London by 1792). Talleyrand kissed their mother’s hand. When she introduced the two boys he nodded with a serious acknowledgement adults rarely afforded them.
“I know who you are,” Charles said, studying this interesting new acquaintance clad in the sort of full-skirted coat his grandfather wore. “You helped overthrow King Louis and Queen Marie Antoinette.”
His mother drew a sharp breath, though a hint of laughter showed in her eyes. “Charles, that isn’t precisely–“
“On the contrary, Elizabeth. He is a perceptive boy. Just what I would expect from a son of yours.” Talleyrand inclined his head toward Charles. “You are quite right, Master Fraser. Though I fear matters have taken a sad turn in France just now. That is why I am enjoying the hospitality of your lovely country.”
Talleyrand was nothing if not a survivor. The son of an aristocratic family, he had been unable to follow the family tradition of a military career due to his club-foot. Instead, his family had sent him into the church. Thanks to their influence, he had quickly risen to become a bishop, though according to Charles’s mother he had been an atheist even then.
Talleyrand, as Charles had pointed out at the age of five, had been a key player in the French Revolution, though he had left France and taken refuge in England and then America during the Reign of Terror. He returned to France, having avoided the most violent days of the Revolution, to play an influential role in the Directoire. As the Directoire collapsed under corruption and infighting, Talleyrand helped guide the young general, Napoleon Bonaparte, to power. He had been France’s Foreign Minister through much of Charles’s childhood, though eventually he fell out with Bonaparte over the Russian campaign and Bonaparte’s dangerous (in Talleyrand’s view) ambitions and retired from official power. Even then, as Charles had told Mélanie the previous night, he’d continued to play a role in Napoleon’s government, while at the same time talking to Bonaparte’s opponents. Now Napoleon Bonaparte was banished to the island of Elba, and his former mentor represented France at the Congress. Regimes may fall and fail, Talleyrand had said, but I do not.
The footman returned with the news that the prince had soon to prepare for the Metternich masquerade but would be pleased to accord M. Fraser an interview. He conducted Charles up an imposing limestone staircase to Talleyrand’s study. The warmth of a porcelain stove and the scent of eau-de-cologne greeted him. Talleyrand sat in a red damask chair, dressed much as he had been when Charles first met him twenty-two years ago, in a gray velvet frock coat, a starched satin cravat, and red-heeled, diamond-buckled shoes. The atheist, ex-communicated bishop now possessed of a wife (not to mention a succession of mistresses through the years) was also a former revolutionary who dressed like a pattern card for the ancien régime.
Talleyrand closed the book he had been reading. “Ah, Charles. A pleasure as always. A glass of calvados? You’ll forgive me if I ask you to pour? My foot is a bit troublesome at present, and I think I can make allowances, having known since you were learning your letters.”
Charles went to a gilded Boule cabinet and poured two glasses of calvados. With a few easy words, Talleyrand had put the scene on a convivial footing and reminded Charles that he had known him since childhood. Which gave Talleyrand the subtle edge of elder statesman and family friend. The man was a master tactician.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Talleyrand said as Charles put a glass of calvados into his hand.
Charles looked down at the prince. “For how long?”
“Since I got the news about Tatiana.” Talleyrand took a sip of calvados. “I’m sorry. I know what she meant to you.”
Charles’s fingers hardened round his own glass. “You were you fond of her yourself.”
“She was a fascinating and very talented woman.”
Charles pulled a ladder-back chair up beside the prince. “She was your creature.”
“My dear boy, if you believe Tatiana was my mistress–“
“Not your mistress.” Charles dropped into the chair. “Your agent.”
“She worked for me occasionally. She sold information to a number of people. Including you.”
“You recruited her.”
“I’m more than thirty years your senior, Charles. It’s not surprising that she worked for me first.” Talleyrand leaned against the high back of his chair. “Castlereagh’s asked you to learn who killed Tatiana, hasn’t he?”
“You’re very quick.”
“I can still add two and two and get four. If I had to put money on it, I’d wager on your uncovering the truth before Baron Hager. He has the weight of the Austrian state on his side, and he’s no fool. But you were quite exceptional, even as a boy.”
“You flatter me, sir.”
“I don’t think so. When I met you, I regretted that your nationality made it unlikely I’d ever be able to employ you. I could see even then what you’d grow into. You’ll learn who murdered Tatiana because you’ll have the wit to see beyond the obvious. And because you care so much you won’t let matters rest until you uncover the truth. It’s what you’ll do with that truth that interests me.”
“Are you saying you know what it is?”
“I’m as much in the dark as anyone. But I can see that the answers won’t be pretty, and they may put you in an uncomfortable position. You’re remarkably like your mother, Charles. A first-rate mind with the ability to understand the need for cool-headed decisions. Sometimes ruthless ones. But you let your emotions get in the way.”
Charles took a sip of calvados. Delicate and superb–better than Castlereagh’s cognac–but it burned his throat. “I appreciate your reputation for omniscience, Prince, but I think you presume to know a bit too much about me.”
“Any seeming omniscience I possess is because I’m a keen observer of my fellows. I’ve had a good many opportunities to observe you these past weeks in Vienna. You’re tougher than you were, but not yet tough enough, I think. Becoming emotionally entwined with an agent is a dangerous thing, Charles.”
“You know damn well–”
“There’s more than one way to be entwined. I noticed your wife watching you and Tatiana only last week at the Zichys’. A clever and charming woman, Mme. Fraser. But I don’t think she’s quite the brittle society wife she manages so artfully to appear.”
Charles’s fingers tightened on the etched crystal. “I don’t see any need to bring my wife into this.”
“On the contrary. Your wife is very much a part of the equation. We were discussing the way you’re still entwined with Tatiana. Just as Tatiana stayed entwined with Metternich even in the interval when their affair stopped.”
Charles’s senses quickened. “Are you implying her affair with Metternich had resumed?”
Talleyrand took a slow sip of calvados. “Metternich was always more in love with Wilhelmine of Sagan than she with him. Any love affair in which the balance of passion is unequal is bound to run into difficulties. Wilhelmine turned her back on Metternich. Metternich was desperately unhappy. Who else would he turn to for comfort? A woman he had loved, a woman he still cared for.”
“A woman who was the Tsar’s mistress.”
“Metternich and the Tsar have a way of competing in all things.”
Charles stared at Talleyrand’s sharp-featured face. Equal parts viper and raptor, his aunt had once said. “It was your idea, wasn’t it?”
Talleyrand smoothed his sleeve. “What?”
“Tatiana resuming her affair with Metternich. Tatiana becoming the Tsar’s lover. That’s why you wanted her in Vienna.”
“You credit me with a farther reach than I possess.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. She was more your creature still than I realized.” Charles folded his arms across his chest. “She told someone the afternoon of the day she was killed that she’d had disturbing news. She wanted to tell me about it.” And he had failed her, as he seemed so often to do.
“Who told you this?”
“A source.”
“Perhaps that’s what she meant to tell you last night.”
“Perhaps. Or were you the one who told her to summon Metternich and the Tsar and me?”
Talleyrand’s thin mouth relaxed into a smile. “I almost wish I could take credit for such an audacious action. But I can’t imagine a logical reason to orchestrate such a meeting. I don’t know what Tatiana was thinking of.”
“It’s possible her killer arranged the whole.”
“To create discord? Or spread blame? A bit Byzantine surely. Though almost devious enough to be the sort of thing I might think up myself.”
Charles swallowed the last of his calvados. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Of course,” Talleyrand added, settling more comfortably into his chair, “given what Tatiana knew about you, you could be said to have an excellent motive yourself. A little more calvados, my boy?”
December 20, 2010 at 4:18 am
All right–I’ll play! Since words and music hold so much meaning for this couple, I think they’d give each other gifts to reflect that. In their own period, I could see Charles giving Mel a piano–the finest available at the time, which would probably be a Broadwood. Meanwhile, she would give him a complete set of Shakespeare, handsomely bound and as close to the original texts as contemporary editors could get. (Not Pope’s edition, in other words!)
Considering them in today’s world, I can see Charles bestowing season tickets to the Met, Covent Garden, or any other acclaimed opera house on his wife–and perhaps even some performance DVDs of her favorite productions, if there were available. And Mel would be frequenting antiquarian booksellers for first editions to grace her husband’s library.
December 20, 2010 at 6:01 am
Thanks for playing, Stephanie! Great suggestions! Both the 19th century and 21st century suggestions really fit both Charles and Mel. And actually I could also imagine the Regency-era Mel scouring antiquarian booksellers for first editions for Charles–Ludlow, Adam Smith, Thomas Paine, John Donne, Beaumarchais. And definitely Shakespeare. One of the gifts that’s actually mentioned in the series is the watch she gives him engraved with a Romeo and Juliet quote.
December 20, 2010 at 7:04 am
I had forgotten about the watch and the quote. Did Melanie get it after their roof climbing adventure last week?
I meant to comment on Fraser Correspondence but found the comments closed. I am getting upset at Raoul. What was he thinking writing that? What response was he trying to provoke in Melanie? Did he do it on purpose, or did he unconsciously let slip his personal feelings? Either way, it could not be a good letter for Melanie to read, I think.
It’s OT, but last week I was watching the PBS program on Dolley Madison, and found myself thinking, “So that’s how Melanie would help Charles in politics!” It seems politics in early 19th century did require a charming hostess, especially for a somewhat shy (or aloof) and bookish man.
December 20, 2010 at 7:25 am
She gave Charles the watch their second Christmas together, which would have been 1813, so he has the watch in “Vienna Waltz.” There’s also the pendant Charles gave her for their first anniversary (also 1813)–rose gold Celtic knotwork and a green gold Spanish poppy.
I’m not sure how the comments got closed on the Fraser Correspondence. I’ll try to fix that. I think Raoul does let his feelings slip sometimes, but in this case I think he’s just being honest (he tends to be ruthlessly honest), saying he understand the difficulties of her position, that she shouldn’t blame herself for not fitting in completely (it’s not her, it’s the world of the British ton), that he understands Charles may not understand her concerns, but that Charles has little use for the ton and it’s rules, so by implication she shouldn’t worry so much. Does that make sense? I think if he told her she could fit in easily and not to worry, she’d know he was lying.
December 20, 2010 at 7:26 am
p.s.
Love the Dolley Madison comment! That’s exactly how Mel helps Charles (or part of it–she also helps write his speeches, not mention helping him on spy missions). But without her, he’d probably still be hiding out in the library :-).
December 21, 2010 at 10:27 pm
Speaking of hiding in the library, I lol when it was mentioned in the program that whichever congressman who had fierce disagreements on the floor with Madison in the morning would receive an invitation to dinner that evening. He would be thoroughly charmed by Dolley during the dinner, and after dinner be led by her to a quiet corner of the library where Madison was waiting and ready to discuss politics with him. I could imagine Melanie doing the same thing!
December 22, 2010 at 1:12 am
Great story, Sharon! I could totally imagine Mélanie doing precisely that. In fact, I may include it in a book at some point…
Hope my comments about Raoul’s letter made sense. I’ve been thinking about what you said a lot. I think it’s actually given me next week’s letter…
December 20, 2010 at 12:58 pm
Hello! I saw the post on Lauren Willig’s website about your new book and wandered over. Your books sound fantastic! I haven’t read any yet, but I’ve read all of Lauren’s books and I firmly believe every spy needs a day off. Since your main characters are a married couple, they should give each other a nice romantic, quiet weekend.
December 20, 2010 at 3:17 pm
Ooh! Am I the lucky Christy? If so, yay! 🙂
December 20, 2010 at 3:52 pm
A comment. Charles comes off as rather… naive at times. 🙂 But he doesn’t think of himself as a spy until Melanie confronts him in “Secrets”.
December 20, 2010 at 4:42 pm
Thanks for visiting, Christine! A nice romantic weekend sounds like the perfect present for Charles and Mélanie, whether in the Regency era or today!
December 20, 2010 at 4:43 pm
Yes, you’re last week’s winner, Christy! I just sent you an email for your address. Hope you enjoy VIENNA WALTZ!
December 20, 2010 at 4:45 pm
Good point, JMM. Though actually that’s one thing I fudged in BENEATH A SILENT MOON and probably even more so in VIENNA WALTZ. When I developed their back story (way back when I wrote BENEATH), Charles was more of a spy than I had at first envisioned (though from the first I envisioned that he had been even if he didn’t call it that). Charles may not use the word, but he was definitely a spy (and I think in VIENNA WALTZ he may even use the word).
December 20, 2010 at 5:02 pm
I agree with the ideas of opera tickets/first edition books other people already came up with–they fit so well, it’s hard to come up with better gifts…
…well, maybe I could see Charles giving Melanie a jeweled fan or something of that sort; not sure about Melanie’s gift to Charles. (No matter the era, it’s always hard to think of good gifts for men!)
December 20, 2010 at 5:13 pm
Books as gifts, since they have spent much of their marriage travelling. A music box with Melanie’s favorite melody?
I don’t think Charles would use the word “spy” to describe himself. I’m not certain why; denial? Perhaps he sees himself on the “right” side, so it’s not really “spying”? From what I’ve read; despite all the “Regency Spy” books, there was a sort of distaste for the reality. “Gentlemen don’t read other’s mail”.
December 20, 2010 at 5:42 pm
I’ll go with the same theme I had with the Pink Carnation gifts. They could give each other hidden weapons. A sword hidden in a walking stick, a small dagger in a hair ornament or piece of jewelry. Useful and decorative.
December 20, 2010 at 9:31 pm
The jeweled fan for Mel is a great idea, Julie! Charles does think in SECRETS about giving her jewelry (she has the pendant that’s an anniversary gift from him and in VIENNA WALTZ she thinks about how he gave her diamond earrings for her recent birthday). So true about gifts for men being difficult. I’m fortunate the men in my life like books–and that’s also true of the fictional men in my life like Charles :-).
December 20, 2010 at 9:35 pm
The music box is a great idea, JMM! It could play “Dove Sono”, which I finally decided is her favorite piece of music (one of the changes I made in SECRETS). And maybe there could even be a code worked into the melody…
I think you’re right about Charles’s shying away from the word “spy” (he tends to use “agent” instead). I think it’s partly a sort of modesty–he tends to downplay his exploits–and partly as you say a distaste for what the word spy means. Harry Davenport, a military intelligence officer who Charles teams up with in the Waterloo book, is much more blunt/cynical/honest about what their work entails.
December 20, 2010 at 9:37 pm
Love the hidden weapons suggesting, Susan! In fact, I think I’ll work that into a book… A pair ornament that doubles as a dagger seems so Mélanie. And that’s the sort of thing Charles might give her that shows he appreciates all sides of her personality!
December 20, 2010 at 9:39 pm
That was supposed to be “hair ornament” :-).
December 21, 2010 at 6:45 pm
I really love the idea of Melanie and Charles giving each other gifts that look like one thing, but are in fact something entirely different. Because they are always travelling so much, I definitely thought that whatever it is, the gifts would have to be relatively small and portable. What about if Charles gave Melanie a piece of puzzle jewelry? Possibly a pendant that has a plane, ordinary design, but if you know the secret, can be converted into a locket, hiding a secret compartment. I was thinking about something like the pendant in the movie “The Illusionist.”
Melanie would scour old bookstores for just the appropriate book to give Charles; Shakespeare, because it means so much to both of them, or maybe something that would help him to reevaluate the possibility of returning to Britain and standing for parliament.
I agree with several of the other people who commented earlier. I think that Charles never wants to call himself a “spy” because it would force him to fully acknowledge too many other uncomfortable truths about his life. His letter to David in the Fraser Correspondence, saying that ” perhaps he was a coward, but Britain held too many uncomfortable ghosts that he was not ready to confront,” really says it all.
December 21, 2010 at 7:08 pm
“Illusion jewelry” is a great idea for Charles to give Mélanie, Gillian! I love the idea of the pendant in “The Illusionist.”
And that’s a wonderful idea for her to give him something that she hopes will help him reevaluate the idea of returning to Britain–a way of raising the topic, since he won’t discuss it very much. Perhaps a book about Scotland or a first edition of Ludlow or Locke…
And I think you, like JMM, nailed it when it comes to Charles’s attitudes toward being a spy. He’s ruthlessly honest in some ways, but he is indeed avoiding uncomfortable truths about his life. Love that you quoted the Fraser Correspondence!
December 25, 2010 at 9:45 pm
If they are in Vienna for this Christmas, then Melanie will have to scour the bookshops for Shakespeare in English. I’d suggest she give Charles books by Goethe or Schiller instead, especially given her own republican/egaliterian leanings. And Charles would perhaps give her some Vienna bronze ornaments, or maybe a pretty Lippizaner mare?
December 26, 2010 at 6:45 am
Great suggestions, Jeanine! Schiller’s “Don Carlos” premiered in 1787, the year Charles was born. I think that Elizabeth Fraser named him Charles after the play, which has a Spanish Republican hero (very loosely based on the historical figure). Which seems fitting for Raoul O’Roarke’s son. Mélanie goes to a performance of “Don Carlos” in “Vienna Waltz” (Charles is in prison, but that’s another story).
Vienna bronze ornaments are a great suggestion for Charles to give Mel. Or Meissen procelain. And a Lippizaner mare would be very interesting to work into their story…
December 27, 2010 at 5:57 pm
I’d love to see you work in a horse or 3. So far, both Melanie and Charles haven’t shown much interest in horses or carriages, but I suspect that males of the species at least had an interest in carriages, and one of the accomplishments of both ladies and gentlemen of the period was to look good in the saddle. But horses are definitely hard to transport back from Austria….And I’ve been watching the “Sissi” films with Romy Schneider lately — saccharine but fun.
December 27, 2010 at 6:45 pm
It’s a good point, Jeanine. Charles and Mel seem to do a lot of their intriguing indoors. Charles rides more in the Waterloo book (back and forth from the fighting several times among other things). And one of the action scenes pre-battle takes place on horseback. I’m sure they’d be attached to their horses, and if they acquired one in Austria, they’d figure out a way to take it with them (Wellingotn’s horse Copenhagen went all over the place with him).