Free A Dangerous Climate by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Page A

imagine we'd be fools, Heer van Hoek and I, if we refused either offer."
     
"Then we understand one another," said Saint-Germain, and held his right hand out to be treated, splinted, and wrapped. He could sense the attentive eyes of most of the men in the beds on him, and he wondered what the rumors would be by the end of the following day, for surely the patients would report on what they witnessed, and their reports would be repeated and improved, until he would be unable to recognize his own simple act; only yesterday he had heard that his attack had been carried out by a gang of fifty ruffians who had slaughtered four of his companions and kidnapped another two. He waited patiently while van Hoek continued his ministrations.
     
"I saw your wife yesterday," Ludmilla remarked suddenly. "She was walking along the levee with a German noblewoman and her escort. It is still a bit surprising to see women of quality out on the streets in that way, but since the Czar abolished the terem, even Russian women take the air." She paused. "She is a very attractive woman, your wife, with a grand bearing. You must be very proud."
     
"Proud?" The observation took him aback; he disguised this with a wry smile. "I suppose I am, at that."
     
Ludmilla seemed puzzled by his response. "I've been told all European men of rank seek to wed women of whom they can be proud. Is this incorrect? Have I misunderstood?"
     
Keeping in mind the man he was supposed to be, Saint-Germain said, "No, you have the gist of it, Ludmilla Borisevna, although many are content to be proud of a wife's connections and fortunes; it is the hope of all that they will be well-matched in every aspect," he allowed. "When great Houses unite, it is a good thing for everyone if both spouses are inclined to think well of the bargain."
     
One of the listening patients laughed, and another swore quietly.
     
"Sadly, that is much the state of marriage, isn't it, Hercegek?" van Hoek asked as he finished securing the wrapping; he had left his wife in Antwerp with her brother's family and the promise that he would send for her and their three children as soon as the city was livable. "But it sounds as if you've made the most of your situation in that regard. There. That's done." He found Saint-Germain's fashionable cane and handed it to him. "Come back in four days so I can make sure the splint is properly aligned. And wear a high boot on your leg. I want to see if you have any secondary swelling from it."
     
"That I will," said Saint-Germain with an elegant bow in preparation for taking his leave.
     
Ludmilla offered a curtsy. "I thank you, Hercegek, for all you've offered us." There was a slight emphasis on offered, as if she had reservations about his willingness to live up to his self-imposed obligation.
     
"Then I will see you in four days," Saint-Germain told them as he went to the door. "Oh," he added as an afterthought, "if I can be of any further service, I would be honored to know what that might be." Ludmilla and van Hoek raised their hands as he stepped out into the warm afternoon sunlight.
     
Adolphus Gronigen leaned down from the driving-box of the light carriage. "Where shall I take you now, Hercegek?"
     
"Take me out toward the second levee, as far as you can go, then wait for my return. I want to have a look at that treadmill." He got into the carriage and settled back onto the upholstered squabs, thentapped the ceiling with his cane as a signal to be off. As the carriage threaded its way along the rutted streets, the signs of industry were everywhere: a road-crew was adding coarse sand to the street to provide a better surface for the wheels of carts and wagons; more houses were going up, as well as more barracks, and at the walls of the fortress, another gang of builders was reinforcing the stockade with split logs; another four administrative buildings were being erected; a load of lumber was being pulled along on a sledge by a team of stout Dutch draft