He turned to look at her. “Yes?”
Her eyes shone bright with emotion. “Thank you for saving my life. Again.”
Despite everything, his heart flipped over in his chest. “You’re welcome.”
He could only pray it was the last attempt. Because next time she might not be so lucky.
Even after they had returned to the house, Monique couldn’t stop shaking. It had become abundantly clear to her that no matter what her uncle said, someone was trying to kill Aurore. Had probably been trying since before Monique’s involvement.
After leading her to a settee in the drawing room, Gregory pressed a glass of sherry on her, and she gladly sat and sipped it as he questioned the servants. From them, they learned that no one had returned from Canterbury yet. That the duke was upstairs in his bedchamber and had called for a bath. That the prince hadn’t yet arrived.
And, more disturbing, that Lady Ursula had left to go for a walk right after they’d headed out for their ride.
When that made Gregory curse, Monique felt her heart sink. She gulped down the rest of her sherry. It couldn’t be. How could the lady-in-waiting be involved? Lady Ursula was her friend, for pity’s sake!
Gregory barked some orders to the footmen, sending one of them for the constable. As they left to do his bidding, he came to sit next to her on the settee, looking solemn. “That day when we went for a drive, I thought it was the count’s decision to have Lady Ursula not accompany you. I assumed he wanted to throw us together for his own purposes. But now I’m not so sure.” Taking her hand, he searched her face. “You seemed surprised that day to hear she was ill. Had you had any indication of that before our carriage ride?”
“No,” she said, her heart sinking further.
“She didn’t look particularly ill after we returned.”
“True. But I just can’t believe . . . I can’t imagine that she would—”
“I know, it’s hard to accept.” He squeezed her hand. “But we must consider the possibility, given that she was absent for both shootings, yet near enough that she could have been the one pulling the trigger.”
“But . . . but does she even know how to fire a gun?” Monique said. “Besides, everyone who saw the shooter said it was a man!”
“A woman can dress as a man and fool people. Not to mention that she might have hired an assassin. This morning she could easily have gone off to tell her henchman what time we left. Whoever shot at you already knew that we’d be riding to the waterfall this morning. And there’s only one path to get there, so it would have been easy for the man to lie in wait.”
“Yes, but why? Why would she do it?”
“I have an idea. But first, has she said anything to you about her feelings concerning the union of Prince Leopold and Aurore?”
She thought back to her brief conversation with Lady Ursula that day. “All I remember is her saying that Aurore didn’t want to marry. That’s why she turned down Prince Leopold’s offer.”
“Did she say why?”
Monique was trying to recall the details of the conversation when Lady Ursula herself burst into the drawing room.
“The servants told me someone fired a gun at you again!” she said, hurrying over to Monique. “Are you all right?”
It was hard not to notice the leaves clinging to her skirts, or her disheveled appearance. Monique wanted to cry. Could Gregory be right about her?
Gregory rose to put himself between Lady Ursula and Monique. “Where have you been?”
She gaped at him. “I was walking through your gardens. Why?”
Aware that his staff could be listening, he walked over to shut the door, then leaned against it to glare at her. “Because you’ve been absent both times the princess has been fired upon. You seem inordinately interested in a possible union between Princess Aurore and Prince Leopold. And you are the only one who keeps asking about when he will arrive. Tell me—is that mere coincidence?”
Lady Ursula blinked. “What are you insinuating?”
“That you’re jealous of Princess Aurore’s hold over the prince because you want him for yourself.”
Such a motive hadn’t occurred to Monique.
Apparently, it hadn’t occurred to Lady Ursula either. “What?! I can assure you I have no designs on my cousin. We’re like sister and brother!”
Pushing away from the door, Gregory advanced upon her. “Then you should explain why you were so intent upon having him here at my estate.”
His words reminded Monique of something the lady-in-waiting had said a few days ago. “You told me that the one you loved couldn’t marry you.” Monique rose to stand beside Gregory. “Was that Leopold?”
Lady Ursula stared at the two of them united, and her face crumpled. “No, it wasn’t Leopold.”
Monique glared at her. “I don’t believe you.”
“It wasn’t him!” Lady Ursula wrung her hands. “I can’t tell you who it was.”
“You’d better,” Gregory snapped. “Because I won’t stand by and let you hurt Monique.”
“Monique?” Lady Ursula looked shocked. “You know who she is?”
Keeping the secret hardly seemed to matter anymore, now that Monique’s life was in danger. “He knows.” She drew in a ragged breath. “He’s always known. As it happens, he met me three years ago in Dieppe when he saw me play Suzanne in The Marriage of Figaro. So the first day he ‘met’ me as Princess Aurore, he recognized me.”
Lady Ursula blanched, then dropped into the nearest chair. “Mein Gott.”
It was the only time Monique had heard her speak in her native tongue. “That’s why I’ve been trying to avoid him all this time. That’s why I wanted you to keep him at bay.”
“And I failed you,” Lady Ursula whispered.
“In more ways than one, if you’re behind these shootings,” Gregory bit out.
“What? I’m not! How can you even think so?”
“Because you keep asking about Prince Leopold.” Monique wrapped her arms about her waist. “You’re the one who insisted on including the prince in this house party. No matter what you say, I can only assume it’s because he’s the one you love and can never have.”
“No, no, no . . .” Lady Ursula was chanting, burying her head in her hands.
“If not him, then whom did you mean?” Monique pressed her.
The lady-in-waiting slumped in her seat. “You won’t understand.”
“You must tell us,” Gregory demanded. “Otherwise, I shall assume that you and Leopold—”
“Aurore!” Her voice fell to a ragged whisper. “The one I can’t have is Aurore.”
“What the devil?” Gregory said.
“She’s the one I can’t marry, the one I love with every breath of my soul.” Lady Ursula looked at them with bleak pain in her face. “I was always only talking about Aurore.”
And to Monique’s shock, the young woman burst into tears.
Seventeen
Gregory could only stare at the poor woman disbelievingly. “But if you weren’t bent on gaining Prince Leopold for yourself, then why were you so obsessed with his interest in Aurore?” Even as the words left his mouth, the truth dawned on him. “Ah—you saw him as your rival for the princess’s affections.”
Lady Ursula nodded through her sobs, her face wracked in a private agony he could well imagine, given his own obsession with Monique.
Meanwhile, Monique just gaped at him. “I don’t understand. I know that she loves Aurore, but—”
“It’s not a sisterly kind of love, ma chérie,” Gregory explained. It still amazed him how naïve and unworldly Monique could be sometimes. “She’s in love with Aurore.”
In his line of work, it wasn’t unheard of. Granted, it was slightly more common for men to be enamored of other men, but he’d certainly encountered women who loved women in a romantic way.
Though many of his peers found such a love distasteful, he wasn’t one of them. Too many years skirting the edges of society as he performed the tasks
of his dark, secretive business had taught him that there were all kinds of love in the world. And given his own past crimes, he could hardly throw stones at someone for the “crime” of loving a person of the same sex.
Lady Ursula fought to compose herself. “I—I love Aurore as . . . as another woman might love a m-man.” She met Gregory’s gaze. “I’ve loved her for years.”
The look on Monique’s face told him she comprehended now. “That’s why you begged not to be forced to leave her. Why you resisted coming here.”
The lady-in-waiting bobbed her head. “She was ill. I wanted to stay with her and take care of her.” Her voice hardened. “But of course the count wouldn’t allow it. He and Aurore’s mother have never approved of our . . . friendship.”
“You mean, they know?” Gregory put in.
“Not everything,” Lady Ursula admitted. “They think we’re merely too close, that I’m the one who influenced her to refuse Leopold.” She brushed tears from her cheeks. “And I suppose that’s true. But I didn’t convince her of anything she didn’t already feel. She didn’t want him.” A softness entered her voice. “She wants me.”
“So she shares your feelings?” Gregory asked.
Lady Ursula nodded. “We . . . we have been in love for years.” She sighed. “Not that anything can come of it. We could never rule Chanay together the way she would like. Still, she remains adamant that she will have no man for a husband. That she loves only me.” She cast Monique a helpless glance. “I’m sorry—I should have told you, but I thought . . . I was afraid—”
“That I wouldn’t understand.” Monique flashed her a wan smile. “I confess that I really don’t. But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. What I still don’t comprehend is why were you pushing to have the prince come here if not to gain him for yourself?”
Lady Ursula shrugged. “I needed to find out why he was considering renewing his suit to Aurore. She’d refused him because unlike some men she might marry, Leopold would never countenance a wife who—”
“Was in love with someone else,” Gregory finished.
“Exactly. I know him well enough to be sure of that.” She scowled. “So I honestly thought he and Aurore had parted ways for good. Then Mr. Danworth told me that Leopold was interested in approaching Aurore again.”
“Wait a minute,” Gregory broke in. “I thought Danworth was asking you to confirm Leopold’s interest.”
She blinked. “Why would he ask me? I mean, Leopold and I are related and were friends long ago, but I have only seen him a few times since he took up residence in England. I assumed that Danworth knew something I didn’t, since Danworth knows him better, is friendly with him.”
It was Gregory’s turn to be shocked. “What do you mean, ‘friendly’?”
Lady Ursula shrugged. “They’ve known each other for years. I believe they became boon companions after Leopold married Princess Charlotte.”
His mind reeling, Gregory roamed the room and tried to make sense of her claims. There was a close connection between Danworth and Leopold? Hard to believe. Then again, Gregory had still been at university at the time—it wasn’t as if he could have known.
So what was Danworth’s game now? Why would he lie and say he wanted to confirm the “rumors” about Leopold renewing his interest in Aurore if all he’d had to do was ask Leopold?
Unless Danworth thought that stirring such rumors would make Leopold a more attractive candidate. Which begged the question—how far would Danworth go to help his friend?
Would he stoop to murder? It seemed unlikely. What could he gain from it except Leopold’s gratitude? That was rather far to go for such a thing.
Still, the merest possibility of it made Gregory uneasy.
Lady Ursula was watching him with avid interest. “What about the count? Does he know about your . . . past association with Monique?”
Damn. Now he had to explain all that.
“Of course not,” Monique said. “If he did, I’d already be headed back to Dieppe. And you mustn’t tell him, either. It wasn’t my fault that his lordship met me before I came here. I’ve done everything my uncle asked, and my grandmother deserves her reward.”
“Absolutely,” Lady Ursula said in a placating tone. “If you keep my secret about Aurore from him, I will keep yours.”
That reminded Gregory of something. “Are you sure that Beaumonde is unaware of the full extent of your feelings for the princess? Is it possible he’s hoping to put Monique in Aurore’s place because Aurore refuses to marry?”
Lady Ursula gaped at him. “Then why have someone shoot at Monique?”
“Good point.” Gregory scrubbed a hand over his face. Today’s attempt had rattled him so much, he wasn’t thinking straight. “It’s unlikely there are two assassins—one for Aurore and one for Monique.”
Lady Ursula smoothed her skirts. “And you’re assuming that Aurore’s illness was caused by poison. It might just be cholera.”
Gregory stared her down. “You don’t believe that, and neither do I. It’s too much of a coincidence that someone would make two attempts on Monique’s life no more than two weeks after Princess Aurore falls deathly ill.”
“True.” Worry furrowed Lady Ursula’s forehead. “But I don’t see how anyone could have poisoned her. We were always with her.”
Monique went to sit beside the woman. “It would be easy enough to slip something into even a princess’s food, especially in a hotel. And how would you know?”
As usual, Monique went right to the heart of the matter. Gregory stared at the lady-in-waiting. “Is there anything that Princess Aurore preferred to drink or eat that no one else generally partook of?”
Lady Ursula shook her head, then paused. “Actually, she did always like hot chocolate before bed.” She lifted her gaze to him. “But I was the one to fetch it.”
“And who gave it to you?”
“Someone in the hotel’s kitchen.”
“The same person every night?” he prodded.
“We were only there one night before Aurore fell ill.” Lady Ursula frowned. “But come to think of it, the kitchen maid who gave it to me wasn’t there the next evening when I went to fetch wine for Aurore in hopes that it would settle her stomach. Indeed, I never saw the maid again.”
Gregory nodded grimly. “There you go. Find that maid, and we find who poisoned Aurore. Or was paid to poison her.”
Lady Ursula had gone deathly pale. “That means I was the one to hurt Aurore!” She burst into tears. “I—I put the p-poison in her hands m-myself!”
Monique laid her arm around the woman’s shoulders. “You couldn’t have known what was in the chocolate. It wasn’t your fault.”
Pacing the room, Gregory thought through everything they knew so far. “I somehow doubt that even the maid knew fully what she was doing. She was probably paid by someone. And the assassin hung around until he got word that Aurore was ill. Then he likely saw no point in remaining there to watch her die.”
“If that’s true,” Monique said, “he must have been shocked to see me show up at the conference.”
“Indeed,” Gregory said. “Which would explain why he then set out to kill you. He thinks you’re Aurore. He thinks she survived somehow, and he’s trying to finish what he started.”
“Even if he knows I’m not Aurore,” Monique said, “he might want me gone to make sure no one from Chanay takes the Belgian throne.”
“No,” Gregory said firmly. “If he knew about the masquerade, he could just expose you and be done with it. So he has to be operating under the assumption that you’re Aurore. It’s her he’s trying to eliminate.”
He faced the two women with a scowl. “Which is why, Monique, you have to withdraw from the conference and return to Dieppe. Make up some excuse for why you no longer want to be ruler of Belgium. It’s too dangerous for you to keep playing Aurore.”
“You know I can’t do that!” she cried as she jumped up.
He gestured in Lady Ursula’s dir
ection. “You don’t owe her and the count anything. For all we know, Beaumonde was perfectly aware that Aurore had been poisoned, which is why he put you in her place.”
“That’s not true!” Lady Ursula rose to face him. “I didn’t know, and I’m almost certain he didn’t, either. Cholera is running rampant across the Continent, so we assumed that she contracted it along with everyone else.”
“Yet no one else in your party has fallen ill,” he ground out.
Lady Ursula glanced away. “That doesn’t mean that she was poisoned. Count de Beaumonde hopes every day for her recovery from the disease. I have heard him say so.”
“And he never lies.” Gregory snorted his disbelief. “Do you think he really wants to watch his great-niece rule Chanay—or Belgium—without an heir? He’s too much of a politician not to know about Aurore’s intention never to marry. And he would not allow that.”
“You’re wrong!” Lady Ursula insisted. “He’s Aurore’s uncle first. He wouldn’t wish to see her hurt.”
“To be honest, I don’t care what happens to Aurore,” he said hoarsely. “I only care about Monique.” The vehemence in his words seemed to catch both women off guard.
Not surprising, since it damned well shocked him. But he pressed on, forcing coldness into his tone to hide the terror swirling in his blood. “And if she continues in this masquerade, she risks her very life. I won’t allow it. It would put a permanent stain on these proceedings.” He dragged in a heavy breath. “So if she doesn’t abandon her masquerade and return to Dieppe, then you both force me to expose her.”
Monique only stared at him with a look of pure betrayal, but Lady Ursula cried, “You can’t! If you do, it will ruin the count and me and Aurore, not to mention Monique. We’ll be mocked by all of Europe. And Chanay will never recover from the embarrassment.”
“Embarrassment!” he cried. “Do you not understand? Monique could die, for God’s sake. She nearly died today. And I refuse to stand by and watch her murdered!”
A rap came at the door, startling all of them.
“What is it?” he barked.
There was a moment’s silence, before a timid voice said, “Captain Lord Hartley is here to see you, my lord.”
The Secret of Flirting Page 20