Laurent, in his true style, proved an astute observer. Breakfast indeed arrived precisely the way I preferred. Evangeline had excused herself once the train departed the station to rest, having slept little or not at all the previous night. I jumped on the opportunity to speak privately with him. “With the time and resources you have invested in the details of Evangeline’s life, I feel compelled to ask if anyone else entered the frame of your investigations?”
Amusement played across his face. “You refer to a particular count with ties to the old Italian monarchy? I would question how you know this, but Hapsburg blood runs through your veins after all.”
“So, there is a possibility of a different paterfamilias?” I asked pointedly.
“I am not personally acquainted with the count. Even though we have frequented similar circles, if we were ever formally introduced, it has escaped my memory. Surely, you, of all people, understand the impossibility of recalling everyone you have been introduced to in our social circles. However, I distinctly recall a gentleman of means at an engagement in my twenties. The only reason I have any memory of it was his eyes. Whether it was in passing or during introductions, his eyes struck me. They were unusual for an Italian, but that was not why. They were the same eyes as an exquisite young courtesan I knew of.” The memory played out behind his eyes, and I broke into his thoughts.
“May I ask why you did not pursue this before insinuating her father was the duke?” I kept my voice gentle and smooth, lest it sound like an accusation instead of a question.
“Oh, dear Jim, no, I did, well they did. Two of the investigators discovered the identity of the man. Again, I could not remember his name or anything else. At that age, I was probably incredibly intoxicated when the encounter occurred. No, they discovered him through their investigation of the Archduchess. The difficulty is she was married to Philippe. The rumors proliferate, even now, in certain circles. However, they could uncover nothing that put them anywhere near each other for several years before and after Evangeline’s birth. With one exception. The count lodged in Klausen from July 8th to July 18th in 1902. They stumbled upon him when checking for a record of the Archduchess taking lodging. As his name had already been in play several times in the investigation, they copied the information. That is it, though, nothing until after Eva is in Paris. At that time, he openly moved to the outskirts of Budapest. Surprisingly close to Alcsut palace, the home of the Archduchess until her passing. There is no shadow of evidence they engaged in any impropriety in the years before the Archduchess gave birth.” Laurent leaned over, patting my arm reassuringly.
“I will confide to you my father is well acquainted with him. A business relationship, certainly. He seems inclined to pursue the rumor, as the count is still alive and presumably in good health. After all, the key players are no longer for this world.” I sighed, my mind spinning with all the variables of Eva’s lineage. I dearly wished Laurent had come to me before naming her parentage. However, I had to trust in God’s grace. After all, she had been through so much.
“How about a round of Piquet, Jim? Do you play?” Laurent reached over to a drawer, bringing out decks of cards. Upon ringing a bell, his man appeared instantly and he requested a tablet for scoring.
“You will have to indulge me, I am afraid. I do not recall the last time I played,” I confessed and took a closer seat.
“My mother insisted on playing at every opportunity. We will have a few rounds with no official scoring to settle you. Then you are on your own. My mother was quite ruthless at the game, and I assure you that I take after her.” Laurent was already dealing the cards.
His warning was justified. Even with the unofficial games, he was ruthless and fortunate. To this point, I insinuated that he may be cheating, which prompted riotous laughter from him. The hours whittled away with me barely managing to stay in the game. Eventually, the subject of cribbage came up. When the game at play finished, he happily brought forth a cribbage board. Here, we were much more evenly matched and genuinely enjoyed the game.
“Do you think the poor darling will make it home before she drops her basket?” I did not bother to ask what he meant. We danced around it for hours. The anticipation of Eva breaking down lay before us, and we knew it. Again, I expressed gratitude for the private car, both verbally and mentally.
“I think she will have some rough moments, but my money is on her making it to Vaduz. She will not allow herself to lose her composure before.” Reaching for my pocketbook, Laurent slowly shook his head.
“I will take that bet, I say Zürich. How about six hundred francs?” He removed an empty pocketbook from the card drawer and placed the currency in it. I refused to bet on the stability of my fiancé in the politest possible way. Laurent sighed and he slid it back into the card drawer.
Keeping with that, I excused myself to check on her. She had drawn all the slides on the windows, requiring me to step into the room. I heard her breathing as I approached and knew sleep still comforted her. At least I prayed it comforted her. I slipped back out, returning to our cribbage match.
As evening approached, I thought perhaps I should wake her. Before I became firm on the decision, she joined us in the parlor. She was still in her silk loungewear, robe, and slippers, but her hair and makeup were done.
“My goodness, why didn’t one of you wake me?” She came over to kiss my cheek and sat on the Louis XV sofa.
“Dearest Eva, you have had quite a strain on your nerves. Sleep is healthy for you. It allows you to process all that stuff Freud talks about, I think.” Laurent snickered lightly.
“I quite agree. Your body knows what you need, darling. You must be famished, though. You have had nothing since yesterday.” I looked at Laurent.
“Indeed, I’ll see to it,” he said, rising from his seat.
“We should be arriving in Zürich shortly, my dear. If you would like to disembark briefly, we could arrange it.” I knew she would not take the suggestion, but I wanted to do something for her. What to do escaped me.
“No, Alexsander. The parlor car is advantageous. This is exactly what I need right now. Traveling home very privately, safe, and protected. To say nothing of the luxury of resting at my discretion. My fortunes have turned in ways beyond my imagination these last months. The gratitude I feel is immeasurable, and that is where I am keeping my focus.” She reached out to take the hand I extended and squeezed it before letting it go.
I replied, “I hope it does not sound condescending when I tell you how incredibly proud of you I am, Evangeline. The way you navigated through all that came with your return to Paris, now the discovery of your possible lineage. Your tenacity does you great credit.”
She laughed a little, “Make no mistake, Alexsander. When we arrive home, and I am afforded the comfort of my surroundings. I fully intend to allow myself the emotion we both know lays under the surface. Under the circumstances, I refuse to relinquish control of myself. You understand more than anyone.”
Laurent reappeared, “Who are we controlling? What are you two up to?” Giggling slightly, he resumed his seat. “Now that you are up and about, Eva, join us for cribbage. We will play three, shall we?”
“I turned to Eva. Do you play cribbage? You never told me that.”
She came over to join us as Laurent arranged a seat for her. “You never asked, darling.” She laughed, adding, “There are many long hours of being available but uninvolved in my former role as Madame, as you are aware.”
The evening went quite smoothly. After an impressive meal, we resumed the game, playing well into the night. The only discussion brought up was an inquiry Eva made to Laurent about why Brother Gabriel had not revealed the truth when she reached out in search of Brother Stephen. Laurent took the full brunt of the blame. The investigator had asked for secrecy until they could complete the investigation in order to provide a thorough timeline and as much factual information as possible.
We arrived in Feldkirch quite late. Laurent insisted we spend the night aboard to have a fresh start in the morning. Our morning began exceedingly early. Eva had slept through the night but awoke as soon as I rose from bed at 5:00. Rather than wake anyone, we took turns bathing and dressing. Eva went off to manage coffee. However, Laurent’s man had heard us stirring and had it well in hand. When Laurent rose, we had finished breakfast and were awaiting our transportation, which arrived promptly at 8:00. Goodbyes were said, with an invitation to stop on his return. I tried to get him to stay over for a day or two, but he was anxious to try to win Reneé and sweep her away to a quick wedding and an extended honeymoon. We bid farewell, and I wished him luck on his quest.
Half an hour later, we stepped into the vestibule to Mother and Father’s warm welcome. We were invited to freshen up and return to the family sitting room in an hour. Eva stopped at the door to her rooms, kissed me gently, and thanked me for a fantastic trip. Excusing herself, she entered without the offer of my accompanying her. For the best, I thought to myself, returning the way we came.
I entered my sitting room and removed my suit jacket and tie. I laid it across the back of a chair. I stopped to check the desk. I heard a sound from the adjoining room and peeked in. Frieda was sorting through the trunk, putting items away, and separating those that needed to be pressed, and so on. “I have been desperate for your divine coffee since I left.” She jumped and turned with her hand on her heart, laughing.
“Herr Alexsander, you gave me a terrible fright. I should not even finish your trunk.” Amusement rang in her voice, ruining her attempt to be stern. She fingered the sapphire necklace hanging at her throat. An unconscious habit by now.
“But you will anyway, won't you? I have to join my mother and father an hour from now in the sitting room. What a nice welcome home it would be to have your coffee waiting for me.” I coaxed, hoping to make her feel special.
“I am quite busy, as you can see. Plus, Mademoiselle’s things will need to be checked. After all, Sara is still learning. I suppose if I find time afterward, now leave me to get my work done. I am glad you are home, Mein Herr.” And she turned back to her tasks, ignoring me.
I went to the window to see a lovely blue sky framed by snow-capped mountains. Ah, I wish Fritzy were here. All that sitting on the train; fencing for the afternoon, that would put me right. Of course, I could practice myself. It was hardly the workout I needed, but it was better than nothing. I walked over, rolled onto the bed, and lay for a moment staring at the decorative canopy and curtains. They were different. The dream from a few nights before came to me. Strange, Mother usually reserved changing these things out seasonally. Here we were in mid-winter. Perhaps it had not been completed during the move. Someone stepped on my grave. Goose flesh rose across my body, and I lay still, attempting to find the reason. I leaned on my elbows, looking around the room: subtle things, a side table not in its standard place. The window draperies were a different shade of blue. I went into the sitting room, again there were subtle differences. The pattern on the furniture seemed off. Looking closely at it, it had not been reupholstered. The fabric was not new. I went around looking at photographs. Franz was there in every photo he should have been in. No resurrected brother in any of them.
I returned to the bedroom. Frieda had laid the journal on the night table by the bed. I took it up and went to the writing desk. I had made a detailed account of the dream the other night. Underneath the entry, I added a postscript, a bold notation, stating that these anomalies were in my waking world. Detailing what had currently caught my attention. I put the book in the drawer of the nightstand.
At least the clock is moving, I thought, heading for the lavatory to freshen up. I was adjusting my tie when the thought struck. Wait, what if time moving so slowly was not an illusion? It had happened the day after the dream, which made no sense, did it? Time should have slowed down the day of the dream if the dream was the catalyst, shouldn’t it? The whole concept seemed so far-fetched.
Nonetheless, I followed the entire train of thought. What if the time anomaly needed sleep to reset the, what, reset what? The slowdown of time? A shift in time, in events, in my life? “Well, now you are quite mad,” I said to myself in the mirror as I finished my tie. Replacing my jacket, I left the nonsense safely in my sitting room. Then, I made my way back down the hallway to escort Evangeline. Thankfully, she seemed quite happy to accompany me.