Read Online The Stockholm Octavo by Karen Engelmann - Free Book Online Page B

with two glasses and bottle on the table, then sat opposite me, her posture as stiff as her straight-backed wooden chair. “An eventful midsummer’s night, Mr. Larsson.”
    I ran my hands through my hair and over the stubble sprouting on my chin. “Yes. And none of the events proceeded as I planned. Did you see my Carlotta go off with that . . . that oaf? My future has been stolen from me!” Mrs. Sparrow took a long slender object bound in blue silk from the tray, hands trembling slightly as she unwrapped and opened Cassiopeia. “And that! Such careless sharping for such small stakes.”
    â€œShe is no small stakes. The Uzanne has given me a valuable piece, especially if the story of the fan’s dark provenance is true. I will query the fan maker, Christian Nordén. He will know who and what she is.”
    â€œI know she is worth at least a month’s salary.” I poured myself a glass of Armagnac, the clatter of dishes and voices of servants rising up the stairwell. “I expect a cut, by the way.”
    â€œI don’t intend to sell her but will repay you of course.” She held Cassiopeia face out. “Do you recognize her?” Mrs. Sparrow turned the fan and gazed at the painted landscape. “The sunset fading indigo to orange, the clouds arching up into heaven. The fine house, the black traveling coach . . . this is the vision I had for Gustav.”
    â€œYes!” I leaned in to study the alluring scene, imagined myself stepping inside the coach and transported to a destination of unimaginable pleasures. “I had a strange feeling when I saw her on the table . . .”
    Mrs. Sparrow’s face held both alarm and wonder. “Gustav insisted that the vision pointed to France, but it is his own house that is at risk. That was clear tonight.” She traced a finger along the face of the fan. “I need to lay an Octavo.”
    â€œBut I heard Gustav say he did not have time.”
    â€œNo, Mr. Larsson. I mean to lay the Octavo for myself.” She folded Cassiopeia and began winding her back into her cocoon of silk. “It is true that Gustav is attached to this vision, but I was mistaken in thinking it was for him. The vision is meant for me. I am charged with protecting his house.” Mrs. Sparrow put Cassiopeia into her pocket, patting it several times, as if she might vanish.
    â€œWith all due respect, I wonder what you could offer by way of protection to the king?” I asked.
    â€œMy Octavo. The knowledge that my Octavo will give me can stop the treachery before it occurs.”
    â€œGustav has withstood twenty years of scheming, Mrs. Sparrow, and as for the Patriots we witnessed tonight? Duke Karl hates his brother one day and cries tears of love and devotion the next. Pechlin has one foot in the grave and The Uzanne is . . . a fan collector.”
    â€œAnd a most discerning one. Cassiopeia is an object of power, and I plan to use her. We may need to disarm her, or enchant her. Perhaps we will need to destroy her.”
    â€œ We? Why do you say we?”
    She fetched her pipe from the side table and lit it with a taper. “We are partners, Mr. Larsson. I can engage with Duke Karl; he is a believer and will seek me out. But I want you to learn more about The Uzanne: who are her allies, what are her weaknesses, how she intends to lift Karl onto the throne. In fact—doesn’t the Queen of Wine Vessels fit The Uzanne quite well? Your Companion.”
    â€œI don’t see her in that role. And how would I approach The Uzanne? At cards?”
    â€œUse the door that your Carlotta provides.”
    â€œCarlotta? Carlotta tripped off with that soldiering dolt without so much as a wink.” I finished my drink in one swallow. “But then again, the poor girl had no choice. She is . . . a prisoner!” I set my empty glass down and sat up straight. “My Octavo, Mrs. Sparrow. It is