Page 80 of The Scent of Intuition
“I don’t understand,” Alfie muttered. Even though he’d still rather be leaving but he might as well hear Bea out. Especiallysince perhaps this would be one of the last times he’d see her at all.
“Well, King Max of Bavaria allied with Napoleon Bonaparte, which led to its elevation to kingdom status in 1806 in the first place. This alliance was primarily driven by the Bavarians’ desire to reduce Habsburg influence in their region and gain territorial expansion.” Bea spoke as if this were as plain as day.
“Oh dear!” The earl sank onto the armchair. “The Wittelsbach Dynasty.”
“But if this were the friction point, then List should be on the side of the Prussians, shouldn’t he? The Austrians and the Prussians are rivals over the territory.” Stan rubbed his chin and started to pace the room.
“King Max is a Wittelsbach,” the earl said. “And he promulgated the Bavarian Constitution last year and introduced a bicameral parliament,” Bea said.
Alfie was still not following. “Like the House of Lords and the House of Commons here?”
“No, because there’s a key difference.” Bea lifted her right index finger as she explained, looking more like one of his professors than Alfie ever imagined possible. “The Bavarian system limits voting rights to wealthier citizens with inherited titles.”
“Aha!” Violet sank onto the settee and reached for her husband’s hand. Alfie noticed through the corner of his eyes that the earl placed a gentle hand on Violet’s stomach as if to check for a heartbeat.
Good for them.
“So List plays both sides?” Alfie asked.
Stan pivoted and came to Alfie’s side. “He only wants to serve his own purpose.”
“But you still cannot prove it, Stan,” Bea intercepted.
“Prove what?” Alfie asked.
“That List is exploiting the gold mines in Transylvania, and then he is blaming the shortage of gold on the Prussians when he speaks with the Austrians.”
“And when it’s the other way around, he blames the Austrians, so the Prussians are upset,” Stan added.
“Streiten sich zwei, freut sich der Dritte,” Alfie said. “It’s an old German proverb. This means that when two parties are in conflict, a third party may benefit from their dispute.”
“He’s exploiting my country! My land!” Stan combed both hands through his dark hair. “And he’s getting away with it!”
“Well, then, I should present this information to the prince regent and—” the earl rose and seemed eager to end the evening, assuming a thank-you-for-coming-but-go-now-pose.
“If you do that, you hurt my friends,” Alfie said as a wave of queasiness twisted his insides. How much of the concoction did he drink? Two and a half glasses?
“Why?” Violet asked, joining her husband.
His normally steady hands trembled, fingertips brushing against his clammy forehead as he leaned against the wall for support.
“Because if you are all correct, then the Jewish Crown Jewelers are List’s scapegoats. They have a trade route and can supply everything except for gold. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires… but no gold. They don’t have access to the mines because they can only trade freely in the Pale of Settlement,” Alfie said.
“Which ends much farther north,” Stan confirmed. This was even worse: List’s plans were to isolate the gold mines and keep them permanently out of reach for Felix, the Klonimuses, and the Pearlers—every bit of List’s effort was driven by the hatred of the Jewish Crown Jewelers and any other Jews who needed gold. Since they supplied Felix’s gold foil for the practice, cutting off their trade access meant the practice couldn’t remainfinancially viable. Most of all, it was unfair that a single man could cause such damage to the livelihoods of hard-working, talented people. Especially those like the Crown Jewelers because they were the best and not because they were Jewish. The unfairness of it all brought his blood to boil. He wanted to help Felix and the others, and at least the truth serum had brought clarity to List’s motives.
*
Bea watched Alfiefrom across the room, her concern growing with every passing second. His face was flushed, with a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead under the soft glow of the chandelier. He tugged at his collar, his movements agitated and restless. It was clear to her that he was in distress, though he valiantly tried to mask it. The truth serum was taking its toll, gnawing away at his composure, and she could see the strain etched into his features.
Henry, ever vigilant, stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Alfie’s shoulder. “You can’t go home in a hired hack in this condition,” he said, his voice laced with authority and concern. “I’ll send you home in my carriage.”
Bea felt a surge of determination. She needed to speak with Alfie, to understand what was troubling him so deeply and to offer whatever comfort she could. Crossing the room with purposeful strides, she approached the men. “I’ll go with him,” she announced, her gaze fixed on Alfie’s fevered expression. “I need to get home as well.”
Violet inhaled sharply and Bea knew her friend was no doubt worried that Bea’s virtue could be compromised if she were traveling alone in a carriage with him, but she shot the countess a woman-to-woman glance and Violet shut her mouth with a snap.
Alfie glanced at her, his eyes flickering with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher. For a moment, it seemed as though he might protest, but then he simply nodded, his resistance melting away under the weight of his exhaustion. However, as they moved toward the door, Bea noticed his reluctance. His steps were hesitant, as if he was trying to maintain a distance between them even within the confines of the carriage.
Once inside, the carriage jolted forward, and Bea found herself seated beside Alfie in the dimly lit space. She turned to him. “Speak to me.”
