“Think so? What do you suppose they talk about?”
“Us.”
“Us?”
“Men.”
“Well. Good heavens.” Meekum absorbed the astonishing suggestion. “I wonder what they say.”
“Nothing good.”
That astounded Meekum even more. He repositioned himself to face Daniel more squarely.
“You are in shipping, I hear.” He was one of those men who said everything in a hearty, jovial tone. In the best of situations, and this was far from being one, Daniel found such men irritating.
“Yes.”
“What do you ship?”
“Whatever is legal and pays well, except opium and slaves.”
“Well, I’ve heard there is good profit in the former. Don’t know much about the other.”
“There is always good profit in human misery.”
“My family is in transportation too. Just investments, needless to say. Not like you, of course.”
“Of course.”
Meekum became flustered and coughed a few times. Daniel doubted it was because he realized he had just been insulting.
“Your cousin is, uh, a delightful young lady, St. John.” He beamed and flustered some more. “I would like to call on her, if you will accept my attentions.”
“I am not the one who has to tolerate them. If she is willing to accept them, however, it is beyond my powers to stop it.”
“Splendid! You can’t know how happy that makes me. She is so lovely, so fresh and sweet, unlike some of these girls. Many of them are too proud for their own good, is what I say.”
“Yes, she is very charming. Which is what makes it all so very sad.”
“Sad?”
“Tragic. You see, she doesn’t have any fortune.” Daniel shook his head. “I expect that she will never marry.”
“No fortune?”
“Not a pound to her name.”
“Nothing?”
“Utterly penniless.”
Meekum scratched his head and pondered the bad news. “But you are . . . that is, everyone just assumed . . . surely you intend to help her out there?”
“I would if I could. It vexes me that my hands are tied. Her brother feared that she would be sought only for her fortune if I settled anything on her, and he made me promise never to do so. He wanted to be sure that if any man offered for her, it would only be because of love.”
Meekum’s smile flashed and fell, flashed and fell. “A noble sentiment, but perhaps a bit rash.”
“That is exactly what I said. Well, he was quite a dreamer. He died before releasing me of the promise, so here we are.”
The ladies were coming back. Meekum watched Diane approach. “Zeus, that is tragic.”
“Yes. Isn’t it.”
As soon as Diane and the countess rejoined them, the music began again.
“Another waltz,” the countess said.
The fourth son of a baronet looked forlornly toward Diane.
“Would you honor me, countess?” he asked.
The countess happily agreed.
“And you, Diane? Can you spare one dance for your cousin?” The words were out before Daniel had decided to say them.
She flushed just enough to indicate they both knew all too well they were not cousins. With a crooked smile, one that made him want to nip her lips, she nodded.
The room receded again as he led her around. They twirled in the wash of colors blurring by. He could tell that she tried not to look in his eyes, but eventually she did. After that, the dance became a very private place in which nothing existed but the two of them. Not even the past that he avenged or the future that he plotted intruded.
Daniel left the library and made his way upstairs. The house was silent with the night. He pictured Diane sleeping in her bed, sated from her triumphant ball.
He wanted to go there, wanted it more than he had ever expected to want to visit a woman’s chamber. He could not, of course. For many reasons, it could not be.
Admitting that he wished it could be led him to a different chamber, not far from Diane’s.
He pushed open the door and entered the sitting room. It was not all pale and glittering like the one in Paris. The woman who used it now had not decorated it. He had forced her to leave her pastel dreamworld and come to his careful, calculated, real one.
Pulling open another door, he entered Jeanette’s bedchamber.
He walked over to the bed, and the dark shadow on it.
He froze.
The shadow was too large. Too wide. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he realized that two bodies slept in the bed.
“Do not wake him,” Jeanette whispered.
Daniel was not sure he could speak, let alone wake anyone.
“Hand me my dressing robe from that bench,” Jeanette instructed, sitting up.
He did so, and she slipped it on.
“Let us go into the sitting room,” she said.
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to a chair in the next chamber.
She settled herself, posing like a queen. Daniel lit a brace of candles.
“You are shocked,” she said.
“I am surprised.”
“Why? Because Paul is base born, or because I am lame?”
“I don’t know why I am surprised, I just am.”
“That must be an unusual emotion for you. You have gone through pains to never be caught unawares.”
It was an unusual emotion. Not an unpleasant one, he had to admit.
“You are to say nothing to him about this discovery of yours, Daniel. He reveres you, and any indication that you are displeased or angry would wound him.”
“What could I say? You are not an innocent child.”
“Hardly.”
“I did not mean—”
“We both know what you meant, and I am not insulted.”
They sat in silence as she waited for him to tell her why he had sought her out.
He found it hard to explain. He wasn’t sure why he had come here. It had simply seemed a very necessary thing to do while he drank port in the library and tried to assess what he had experienced during the last few hours.
“Did he see her tonight?” The question came low and gentle. Just like Jeanette, to know without being told.
“Yes.”
“Was there an introduction?”
“Not yet.” There would be soon, however. He didn’t doubt that. Only his continued interference tonight had delayed it.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“No.” Except he was. For all the wrong reasons. Ones that would pass quickly, leaving him disgusted with himself and still owned by memories that could not be escaped until they were killed.
“So, you have come to me to rebuild your resolve,” she said. “Well, light more candles, brother. Shall I raise my gown so that you can see my lifeless legs? Will that help? It is my role in this now, isn’t it? It always has been. To be the reminder, lest you forget.”
“That is a hell of a thing to say.”
“Is it? Then why did you return to France every year during the war, when doing so was dangerous and difficult?”
“To see you. To make sure you were safe, and cared for.”
“I do not doubt those reasons. But can you say truly that there was no more? That seeing me, visiting Paris, even going to that school, was not necessary to feed your anger and keep it alive?”
“Not at all.”
“Oh, Daniel. How a man who is so ruthlessly honest in so many things can be so blind to himself—you only put the girl in a French school to have another reason to force you back.”
He rose and turned away from her accusations. “I put her there because I knew I would be returning anyway to see you, damn it. Should I have kept you both here in England? Would that have pleased you? You are afraid to even leave this house.”
“Keep your voice down. You will wake Paul.”
“I don’t give a damn if I wake him. Hell,
he is sleeping with my sister. I’m not about to be concerned if he loses a bit of rest.”
“Good heavens, you are shocked. That would be charming if it was not so ridiculous.”
Was he shocked? Was that the source of the seething annoyance churning in his gut?
“No, I think I have it wrong. You aren’t shocked. You are resentful. You assumed it owned me, too, this need for revenge. Was I supposed to accept my life was over? Wither away as I waited for you to finish it? Was I supposed to forego happiness as you have? Or perhaps you assumed that because of these legs I had no choice.”
“So, you are free and I am a slave, is that it?”
“I am not free. Bring him to me and I will shoot him through the heart and gladly hang for it. But don’t expect me to live what time I have been given with no purpose except waiting for the chance to fire that pistol.”
“My God, you are crippled because of him. How can you live with any other purpose?”
She threw up her hands and shook her head. “Take me back. You only came here to convince yourself to use that girl as a lure. I can see that I have once more been all you hoped I’d be.”
“I came here to speak with my sister, that is all.”
“Take me back. Quietly, please.”
He lifted her and carried her to the bed. Paul slept on, his craggy face nestled amidst the pillows, his naked shoulders visible above the sheet.
Jeanette removed her robe and cast it to the floor. Daniel turned away.
“Daniel.”
Her whisper caught him at the door.
“Daniel, there are many ways to be crippled. I would forget everything if I could feel my legs move again. If having your heart stir tempts you to do the same, do not feel guilty.”
chapter 11
Of course, the manufacturing possibilities are not the main interest. I am a scientist first.”
Gustave nodded in response to Sir Gerome Scot’s earnest reassurance. Scot was a brother in science, and politeness was in order. Scot was also paying for the meal that Gustave now ate in a private club at Scot’s invitation.
He really did not give a damn about experiments with chemicals, however. His mind was on other problems.
He was behind schedule already. Tyndale wanted a demonstration of the discovery prepared quickly, and so far Gustave had made no progress at all in arranging one.
It would have helped if it could have been a small demonstration, such as the experiment he had conducted in Paris. But no, Tyndale wanted to skip that stage. He demanded something larger, that could be used to procure a patent and attract industrialists.
He needed to purchase materials and chemicals. He needed to find a building, out of the way, where no one would get curious. He needed to make his way around London quietly and subtly.
Scot droned in French, as any civilized and educated man could. Even the servants in this exclusive club knew enough to see to Gustave’s comfort. Unfortunately, once one stepped outside the highest levels of society in this barbaric land, no one spoke French, let alone Latin. And Gustave knew no English.
The situation was impossible. He needed to step down considerably in the world to make things work, but he could not communicate with the men he needed to approach.
Scot launched into a tedious explanation of yet another chemical process. Gustave tried to look interested, but five minutes into the conversation something caught his eye. A young man had entered from another room, looked around, and then made his way to a table to join a friend. It was his past secretary, Adrian Burchard.
Scot noticed his distraction. He glanced in Adrian’s direction and smirked. “Looks out of place, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. What is he doing here?”
“He is a member. Can’t exactly turn down the son of an earl, can we? Even if his paternity is obviously only legal.”
The news was startling. Adrian had never claimed to be an earl’s son when he applied for the position in Paris. Who would have guessed such a thing, what with those black Mediterranean eyes.
“So, his mother . . .” Gustave raised his eyebrows meaningfully.
“Obvious, isn’t it? Noble of Dincaster to accept the boy at all, that’s what I say. Well, he is a third son, so there is little chance he’ll inherit, I suppose. He has the sense to keep a low profile, not that it is really possible with those eyes. Been on his own since he left university, I hear. Not a penny from the earl, which is as it should be. He does some minor work for the Foreign Office on occasion. Secretary and such, now and then. There are those in our government who are not too particular about one’s true birth, I’m sorry to say.”
Adrian had claimed to have been a secretary to some diplomat or other. It was a detail Gustave had assumed was a lie and generously overlooked.
“How interesting.” Actually, how useful.
Gustave doubted that Adrian had announced to anyone in this club that sometimes he served as a secretary for men less illustrious than ambassadors. No wonder he had rarely left the house in Paris, and spent his evenings up in that garret chamber.
He kept his eyes on Adrian during the rest of the meal. He timed his own finish to coincide with the secretary’s. He arranged to leave the club at the same time as the foreign-looking son of an earl.
Adrian’s expression registered some surprise as Gustave joined him to wait for their hats. There was no acknowledgment of their prior association, however.
That was all Gustave needed to know.
He followed Adrian out to the street and skipped a few times to catch up. “You choose to be rude to your old employer?”
“I was surprised to see you, that is all. Are you enjoying your visit?”
“I find myself too busy. I think that I released you precipitously. The aid of someone who knows this city would be useful to me.”
“There are many secretaries and clerks available. If you ask your friends, they will find one for you.”
“I need one who speaks French.”
“That should not be too hard.”
“I would prefer someone I know.” Gustave smiled. “Like you.”
They had reached a corner. Adrian stopped and faced him. “I am not looking for employment at the moment.”
“It would not be official. It would not be public,” Gustave said, letting him know that he understood what his concerns really were.
Adrian’s gaze darted around the street. It came to rest on a building across the way. “I regret that I cannot help you.”
“It would be very private. I myself desire discretion. Our mutual need of it will ensure the arrangement will not be known.”
“Sorry. I cannot.”
“I think that you can. I think that you must.”
“Must?”
“Surely you do not want me asking for assistance from other scientists, and confiding that my own secretary is too proud to assist me.”
Adrian darted a sharp glance at him. His annoyance slowly lifted, replaced by resignation. “I suppose I could help you, unofficially, that is.”
“Good. It is not every day. Indeed, once a few difficult matters are seen to, I will not need you much at all. The same wages, shall we say? A fortnight’s worth?”
Adrian’s jaw stiffened as if talk of money was an insult. Here in England, where he was known as an earl’s son—even one of suspect legitimacy—it would be.
“Fine. Now, I will give you the first assistance that you require, since you clearly need it. Across the way is a man with a beard who has been watching you since we stopped here. He is probably a pickpocket, and has identified you as a foreigner.”
Alarmed, Gustave pivoted. As soon as he did, a bearded man, poorly dressed in an old frock coat and hat, began walking down the street.
“Be alert for such things, m’sieur. England has the best thieves in the world.”
“Miss Albret?”
The call came from a coach passing on the street. Diane took in the startled blue eyes of Vergil Duclairc at the
window.
Beside him, in the shadow, she spied the perfect profile of his friend Julian Hampton, a young solicitor to a handful of select clients including Daniel and the Duclairc family. She had met Mister Hampton at the countess’s dinner. He was a dramatically handsome man who possessed a crystalline reserve. She had spent the evening expecting him to speak in poetry, should he ever deign to speak at all.
She marched on, resuming the mental scolding she had been giving Daniel St. John ever since she watched him leave the house this morning.
She sensed a small commotion of horses stamping and snorting. Suddenly Vergil was walking beside her.
“Miss Albret, are you alone? Did your escort lose you? Stay with me and I will find St. John’s footman.”
“I lost no one. I have something to do and I am going to do it. Now, good day to you.”
She turned a corner, leaving him behind.
He caught up. “You are alone? But you cannot walk alone.”
“Of course I can. I have been doing so for the last quarter hour or so.”
A coach moved into view beside them. Mister Hampton’s carriage had turned around and now rolled alongside.
Vergil stepped around and blocked her path. “Miss Albret, we will give you our carriage. The coachman will take you wherever you wish to go. I must insist on it.”
He was starting to get stern and authoritative.
She was not in the mood to take instruction from anyone today, least of all a man.
“Miss Albret, either you ride in the coach or you accept my escort on foot. There will be hell to pay with your cousin in either case, since he warned me off, but if you would, please . . .” He aimed his arm toward the coach.
“I am walking because I want to walk. I cannot stop you from accompanying me if you persist. As for my cousin warning you off, he will not be worried. He probably knows that you are enthralled with some opera singer and have no interest in me. Not that I care what Daniel St. John thinks or knows or worries about.”
Vergil blinked with surprise. Whether her indifference to Daniel’s opinion startled him, or the evidence that the whole world knew about his opera singer, she did not know.
“You speak very frankly, don’t you?”
“My apologies, but I have been speaking so politely and vapidly these last weeks that the stored up frankness just overflowed this morning.”
The Seducer Page 11