An Unlikely Alliance

by Patricia Bray

  Gradually, the attacks grew less severe and she was able to rest between them. Eventually, she fell asleep. Magda opened her eyes to find the room was dark, with only a single candlebranch providing illumination. She raised her head from the pillow cautiously, but the room stayed on an even keel and there was no return of the queasiness which had plagued her.

  “I see you’ve finally decided to rejoin the living,” Lord Kerrigan said, rising from a chair in the shadows.

  She was surprised at his presence and mortified when she remembered how he had witnessed the pathetic spectacle of her illness. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

  “I had to see for myself that you would be all right,” he explained. “Do you feel up to some tea or perhaps some broth?”

  Magda considered the idea. Unlike earlier in the day, the thought of food did not bring an immediate protest from her stomach. “Perhaps some tea,” she said.

  Lord Kerrigan stepped outside and spoke to someone in the hall. Then, returning to the room, he used a taper to light the rest of the candles, banishing the earlier darkness. Laying the taper down on the bureau, he came over to the bed. “Here, it will be easier if you sit up,” he said.

  He lifted her as if she was a child and arranged the pillows behind her to prop her up. For such a strong man he was curiously gentle in his movements and she was reminded of how tenderly he had cared for her earlier that day.

  “My lord, this is not proper,” she said, feeling that some protest was called for.

  “After all we’ve been through, you can hardly call me Lord Kerrigan,” he said. “Call me Alexander, as Luke does.”

  “If I am to follow Luke’s lead, then I should refer to you as the most excellent sahib.”

  It was a feeble jest but it made him chuckle. “Now I know you are feeling better,” he said, smiling down at her. For the first time, Magda felt the devastating force of his charm.

  A footman arrived, bearing a cup of tea on a silver tray. Alexander took the tray and then firmly shut the door. Placing the tray on the table next to her bed, he reached over to the dressing table and dragged the fragile chair over to the bedside. He perched on it, his massive frame looking as out of place as a grown man sitting on a child’s stool.

  “Start with this,” he said. “If it settles, then you can try something more substantial.”

  Picking up the cup, he prepared to raise it to her lips.

  “I can do this myself,” she said. She hated being weak. He must think her a pathetic creature indeed, always in need of care. Alexander gave her the cup, but then watched her like a hawk, ready to take over if she proved unable to manage this simple task.

  Holding the cup in both hands, she raised it to her lips and took a cautious sip. The tea was sweet and warm and slid down her throat like a soothing balm. She waited a moment, but the tea settled nicely and she ventured another sip.

  He watched her patiently as she finished the tea and then solemnly accepted the empty cup that she handed him. The tea had warmed her, and tired as she was there were questions that she needed answered.

  “It was the chocolates, wasn’t it?” she asked. “There was something in them.”

  He nodded. “This can wait till tomorrow, when you feel stronger,” he said.

  “There is nothing wrong with my mind,” she countered waspishly.

  He smiled again, as if her display of temper amused him. “Very well,” he said, turning serious. “It was poison.”

  Poison. She had hesitated to voice the thought aloud, yet what else could it have been? But realizing that it was poison also meant accepting that someone had intended for her to die. The package had been addressed to her. This was different from the kidnap attempt of the other night. There the danger to her life had been implied but not certain. But now it was clear. Someone wanted to kill her.

  “But who could have done such a thing? Was it the trainer? The man who was killed yesterday?” A poisoned box of chocolates was such an evil weapon. The box was addressed to her but it could have killed anyone who sampled the chocolates. Even Alexander, for all his great strength, could be brought down by poison.

  “We don’t think so,” Alexander said slowly. “There wasn’t time. And we don’t think he knew you were here.”

  “Then who? How did they find me?”

  Alexander’s gaze was accusatory. She felt guilty already, without even knowing what he would say next. “You left the house yesterday,” he said.

  “Oh no,” she said.

  “Oh yes,” he contradicted. “According to Dugan, you and Sally walked down to the dry goods store and then over to New Bond Street. What could have possessed you to take such a foolish risk?”

  It hadn’t seemed a great risk at the time. Cooped up in the house for over a week, she had been bored, and welcomed the chance to accompany Sally on her errands. Dressed in her ordinary garb, she had felt no risk that anyone would mistake her for the colorful Mademoiselle Magda. “It was careless,” she said. “But I didn’t think anyone would recognize me.”

  “Apparently someone did,” Alexander said drily. “May I ask what errand was of such importance?”

  “We went to see Teller’s. Your shirtmakers,” she elaborated, seeing his look of incomprehension. “When I was doing the mending I noticed the shoddy quality of their work. I brought one with me and told them that they should be ashamed to have made such an item, and it would serve them right if you withdrew your custom immediately.”

  “My shirts. You risked your life for my shirts?” he said. It was not quite a shout.

  “Well,” she said, “it seemed important at the time.” She could see he was working himself into a temper, so she quickly changed the topic. “But if it wasn’t the trainer, then who was it that saw me?”

  “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be sitting here,” he said.

  “The chocolates were addressed to Mademoiselle Magda. Yet it must be someone who knows me well enough to recognize me without my costume,” she mused aloud.

  “And someone who has a grudge against you. Someone who has a reason for wanting to see you dead.”

  Magda shivered. She wanted to wrap herself in the security of her blankets and beg Alexander to keep the evil away from her. She had the feeling that if she asked, he would promise to keep her safe. But she did not want to be kept safe, if safety meant being kept in a cage forever. She was not about to give up control of her life, not to Alexander or to this villain.

  Running and hiding had brought nothing but frustration and danger. Now it was time to try a new tack. “If he fears Mademoiselle Magda, then it is time we gave him something to really be afraid of.”

  “What do you mean?” Alexander asked.

  “If this enemy has found me here, then it means here is not safe. So there is no point in hiding away. Instead, let me be Mademoiselle Magda. Let me appear in public where he will be forced to confront me.”

  “I don’t know,” Alexander said. But he did not immediately dismiss the idea.

  She wracked her brains for ways to convince him. An image from the theater sprang to mind. “Your townhouse is like a castle,” she said. “Whoever is after me knows where I am and can lay siege to us at any time. Yet we have no idea who he is. But if we leave the castle and force him to fight on our terms…”

  “It will be dangerous,” Alexander warned her.

  “Life is dangerous,” Magda countered. “But I would rather risk everything then go on living in fear, wondering when he will strike next.”

  Chapter 8

  “My dear boy, you will not believe the rumors that are flying about London. Last night Mrs. Grimes related how a Rajah had come to England and tried to assassinate you, while Lady Charles would have it that your cook had run mad and poisoned your entire household.” Lady Stanthorpe shook her head in apparent amazement. “Naturally, I told them both that there was no truth at all to the rumors. But I thought I should pay a call on you, to let you know what was being said.”

&nbs
p; “Naturally,” Alexander said. He noticed that for all Lady Stanthorpe’s professed disbelief in the rumors, she was examining him quite closely as if to determine his state of health. “Please have a seat,” he offered. “Let me ring for refreshments.”

  The rumors must have been spectacular indeed. Mindful of his frequent business engagements, Lady Stanthorpe usually sent a note around requesting his presence whenever she wished to see him. He could not remember the last time she had called on him at his residence. Yet here she was, and at an hour that was much too early for a casual social call.

  Dugan had shown Lady Stanthorpe to the front sitting room. It had been recently redecorated in the fashionable Grecian style, and while waiting for the servants to bring refreshments, Lady Stanthorpe praised the changes he had made. She then launched into a description of the rather more daring changes she had planned for her own establishment.

  Alexander murmured agreement whenever it seemed called for, privately wondering whether Lord Stanthorpe had agreed to implement any of his wife’s fantastic schemes.

  The butler supervised the delivery of the tea tray. Dismissing the footman, he then turned to Alexander. “Will that be all, my lord?”

  “Please ask Mademoiselle Beaumont to join us,” Alexander said.

  Dugan nodded, his face stiff with disapproval as he realized that his employer intended to introduce the interloper to the highly respectable Lady Stanthorpe.

  Lady Stanthorpe had been pouring tea, but at the mention of Magda she looked up at Alexander. “Mademoiselle?” she echoed. The amber stream continued to pour into the teacup unobserved. Alexander reached over and removed the teapot from Lady Stanthorpe’s hands before the cup overflowed.

  “Would you like a cake? I’ll taste one first to show you that it’s not poisoned,” he said.

  “That’s not at all amusing,” Lady Stanthorpe said.

  “My apologies,” Alexander said. He wondered just how much to tell her, and decided that he had to tell her at least part of the truth. “It was even less amusing two days ago, when someone actually did try to poison us. But do not worry, no one was harmed.”

  Just then the door opened and Magda came in. “Alexander, you wished to see me?” she asked, then she caught sight of his guest. Realizing they were not alone, Magda gave him a look that should have scorched him in his shoes.

  Alexander rose from his seat and crossed the carpet to where Magda was standing. Taking her by the hand, he led her over to Lady Stanthorpe. “Lady Stanthorpe, may I present Mademoiselle Beaumont?”

  Lady Stanthorpe’s eyes widened as she caught sight of his guest. “Mademoiselle,” she said coolly.

  Magda gave a graceful curtsy. “Lady Stanthorpe, this is an unexpected honor,” she said.

  “Please join us,” he said and gestured toward the sofa.

  “I do not think so. I am sure you and Lady Stanthorpe have much to discuss, my lord,” Magda said stiffly.

  He should have known she would prove stubborn. He wondered whose feelings she was trying to spare. His? Or more likely she was trying to protect Lady Stanthorpe’s delicate sensibilities.

  “On the contrary, we were discussing you,” he said. “Sit,” he insisted, placing his hand on her shoulder and pressing down until she had no choice but to comply. He then took the seat beside her.

  “She was the one? Why would anyone want to poison a fortune teller?” Lady Stanthorpe asked.

  “I was wondering if you’d recognize Magda without her costume,” Alexander said. “Quite a transformation, is it not?”

  Lady Stanthorpe looked across at Magda. Dressed today in a demure gray gown, Magda bore little resemblance to the flamboyant Gypsy who had entertained at Lady Stanthorpe’s party. But Lady Stanthorpe had always had a good eye for faces, and he wasn’t surprised that she had recognized Magda.

  Lady Stanthorpe set down her teacup with a decisive air. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him with the air of one about to do battle. “Her appearance is hardly the issue. A month ago that girl was entertaining guests in my drawing room, and now I find her here with you? This is most improper, and not at all like you.”

  She spoke to him as if he were a callow youth caught in an indiscretion. He would not have allowed anyone else to take such a tone with him, but he knew that behind her haughty tone there was genuine concern.

  “Of course,” Alexander said. “This is indeed Mademoiselle Magda, who made her debut as a fortune teller the night of your party.” With a few swift sentences Alexander described how he had found Magda after she had been attacked, and had taken her to his house to care for her, only to have someone later find her there and try again to kill her, this time with poison.

  Lady Stanthorpe turned to Magda. “Is this true?”

  “Oh yes,” Magda replied. “Without Alex—that is, without Lord Kerrigan’s help I might have perished that first night. But now whoever it is has found me here, so it is not safe for me anymore.”

  “Indeed,” Lady Stanthorpe said thoughtfully. Looking closely at Magda and Alexander, she then nodded as if she had reached some private conclusion.

  “What is it that you want me to do?”

  This was the tricky part. He was well aware that what he was asking was preposterous and went against every convention of society. But it was necessary if his plan was to succeed.

  “I need someone to introduce Magda to the ton. Someone to take her about, and to make sure that her presence in society is noted. Up until now our villain has been able to skulk in the shadows and strike at will. By bringing Madga into the open we hope to force him out of hiding as well.”

  “I am not sure about this,” Lady Stanthorpe said. It was not the reaction he had hoped for.

  “Lord Kerrigan assures me there is no risk to you,” Magda said. “He and Luke will be there whenever I make an appearance.”

  Lady Stanthorpe continued to shake her head. “It is not that,” she explained. “But I simply can not introduce an unknown, no matter how beautiful she is. Everyone would want to know who she is and where she came from. Having seen her as a Gypsy, my friends will hardly believe it if I try to pass her off as a respectable young lady.”

  Alexander had already anticipated her objection. “I thought you could claim that she was a distant connection, from the French side of your family. Magda’s mother was the daughter of a Russian count and a Gypsy princess. She was cast off by her family when she eloped to marry a Frenchman. Since both her parents died when she was young, Magda had no idea of how to find her father’s family. You only discovered Magda’s true identity when you met her on the night of your entertainment.”

  “Is any of this true?” Lady Stanthorpe asked hopefully.

  “I do not know,” Magda said with quiet dignity. “Some of it may be true, but most likely it is all a tissue of lies that my mother wove to entertain her clients. When my mother died, the truth of who she was died with her as well.”

  “It doesn’t have to be for long,” Alexander said. “If our villain doesn’t surface in a fortnight or so then we’ll have to try another tack.” But it had to work. Magda’s eyes still bore a haunted look, and try to hide it though she might, he knew it was hard for her to live with the knowledge that someone was trying to kill her.

  “You do not have to do this,” Magda said, seeing that Lady Stanthorpe was still hesitating. “I am certain Lord Kerrigan will understand completely if you feel you can not lend your name to such a dubious enterprise.”

  Something in her tone seemed to reach Lady Stanthorpe. “Nonsense. Of course I will do what I can. Lord Kerrigan would never ask unless it was important. And I am certain you will be as safe in my home as if you were in the Royal Palace.”

  “No,” he said flatly. Magda’s leaving was out of the question. “She stays here with me,” he added in a quieter tone.

  “Impossible,” Lady Stanthorpe said with equal firmness. “How can we explain her presence here? The rumors around you are bad enough as it is,
but if there should be even a hint that she has been your guest then there will be no bringing this off.”

  It was a possibility he hadn’t considered. He had just assumed that Magda would stay here, where he could continue to watch over her. But if gossip over the attempted poisoning was already swirling around town then it meant that there was no way he could conceal Magda’s presence here any longer.

  “Perhaps if you were to stay here? As a chaperone, perhaps?” Magda offered. It was some consolation to see that she, too, was distressed by the idea of parting.

  “When I have a perfectly good residence of my own? No, if you were really my charge I would insist on your removing to my household, where you can benefit from my guidance. If we are lucky, no one will connect you with the exotic mistress that Lord Kerrigan is said to have installed in his own home.”

  Magda blushed at the implications. “I assure you Lord Kerrigan has behaved as a perfect gentleman.”

  “I am certain of it. That is why it is imperative that I remove you from this household at once,” Lady Stanthorpe added cryptically.

  She was not to be swayed, and eventually Alexander was forced to agree that this was the only way to make his plan work. After all, he had asked for Lady Stanthorpe’s help because she was so astute in social matters, a topic for which he himself cared little.

  Lady Stanthorpe wielded enormous social power when she chose. In her twenty years in India, Alexander was not the only young man she and her husband had befriended. Many of those she had assisted over the years had returned home to England as men of wealth and influence. Now, returned to England, she had a circle of allies she could call on at will.

  It was to Lady Stanthorpe’s great credit that she never thought to use her social consequence for her own advancement. She was simply a kind person who had always helped those who needed her, and expected her friends to do the same.