A Dangerous Masquerade

by Linda Sole

  ‘Yes, of course, Highness – if you will give me the direction.’

  Moraven could hardly hide his scowl as he took the folded paper. This in itself was close to blackmail. Since the request was personal and not a State matter, he felt unable to refuse but it was the last – the very last time he would walk on the dark side of the law for the sake of others.

  He was released a few minutes later after a short chat about the Regent’s horse running at Newmarket. He scowled as he strode though the narrow passages of the royal palace; he scowled as he left and crossed the street, heading for his club, and he scowled as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed. It was a habit he would find hard to break, but break it he must if he wanted a normal life.

  A wry smile touched his mouth. What was normal for him? He’d forgotten what it was like not to live beneath a shadow.

  Just for a moment in France he’d thought he might have a future but then his foolish pride had got in the way. When he’d heard Lord South offering to marry Constance he’d known he had no right to snatch her away. The younger man could give her so much that he couldn’t – and she obviously liked him or she wouldn’t have agreed to nurse him until he no longer needed her. That might be weeks, months or years. Though an invalid, the man could linger on forever.

  An unworthy desire to smother him with his own pillow rose up in Moraven’s mind but he crushed it. South was a brave man and his action had undoubtedly saved Constance. Had he stood aside and let the rogues take her, Moraven might have been too late. He’d seen the despair in the eyes of those girls in the brothel and the thought of her being slowly broken to become like that sickened him.

  She would be better off as the young lord’s wife. He would give her all the things she deserved. Moraven was still living with the shadow of the past and it might take a while to clear it – and yet his body burned for her and he could not sleep at night for thinking of how sweet she would be in his arms. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life. Indeed, he was close to loving her…whatever that meant. If he loved anyone it was Constance, but could he open his heart to love – could he let in the light to that dark place within him?

  *

  ‘You look lovely,’ Heloise said as Constance came downstairs wearing a simple white muslin gown. She had earlier picked some roses from the garden and made herself a posy, and she’d fastened two pink roses in her hair. ‘No bride ever looked better.’

  ‘Am I doing the right thing?’ Constance asked, looking at her anxiously. ‘Am I being fair to him, Heloise? He loves me so much and I – I think of him as the brother I never had…’

  ‘Just don’t tell him so,’ Heloise cautioned. ‘He knows what he’s getting. He’s no fool, believe me – but do not push it down his throat. Leave him a little pride for as long as he’s got.’

  ‘Sometimes he seems so much better that I think he will get truly well again, but yesterday I saw him coughing up blood. I wanted to call the doctor but he would not have it.’

  ‘No man wants to be thought an invalid. You’ve given your word, child. You must make the best of it – whether it be days, months or years.’

  ‘Yes, I gave my word and I shall be as good a wife as I can to him,’ Constance said with quiet dignity. ‘It will not be a proper marriage but if I can ease his pain as it gets worse and bring a smile to his face sometimes it will be worth while.’

  ‘I just hope you will not suffer by it.’

  ‘Why should I?’ Constance asked. ‘Jonathan has already made his will and the doctor and Pierre signed it. It is not a huge fortune but if I need it I shall have enough to make a comfortable life for the three of us in England.’

  ‘You will take Pierre and I with you?’ Heloise blinked fiercely.

  ‘Yes, of course. You are my family.’

  ‘When shall you leave?’

  ‘If Jonathan recovers enough to make the journey we shall go then – if not it will be after…’ Constance shook her head, because she had become fond of her patient. ‘We have heard nothing from Madeline in all these months. I think you must be right. If she were alive surely she would have returned to claim what is hers?’

  ‘Have I not told you again and again? I think the comte did away with her and hid her body.’

  ‘I do not think that because I’m sure she took her own trinkets with her, but something must have happened after she left.’ Constance sighed. ‘I miss her. I wish I might know that she is safe and well before I leave for England.’

  ‘Will you take her jewels with you?’

  ‘No, for they are not mine. I think I must send word to her husband’s lawyers. Someone else should take charge of her property.’

  ‘Your husband has little money here in France. He told me yesterday that he had only a few francs left for the market and would need to transfer funds out here soon.’

  ‘We have nothing left since we paid the taxes. There are three francs in my drawer upstairs but when that has gone…’

  ‘You should sell something. Something of the comte’s if you will not sell her things.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps, if I must.’

  Constance thought of the bank draft Moraven had written out for her. She’d left it on the dressing chest but after he’d gone, she entered the bedchamber in search of a note of farewell. Moraven had not left her a letter and the bank draft had gone. He must have thought better of his generosity.

  Constance had never wanted such a large sum of money from him, but she might have cashed it, used a little, and found some way of returning the rest of the money when Jonathan’s funds came through. The doctor’s fees, foods and brandy had soon eaten up her small store of money. Moraven had given her money for the market while he was here but he’d been gone three weeks now.

  She would manage somehow. There was enough silver in the house. Only her stubborn pride had kept her from selling something before this – perhaps a candlestick or a bonbon dish would bring enough to feed them for a few weeks.

  A knock at the door brought her from her reverie. She drew a deep breath as Heloise went to answer it. Doctor Frances had brought a priest with him and she was to marry Jonathan in his room. He could not yet come downstairs, though he was determined to dress and stand for the ceremony.

  Picking up her posy, she painted a smile on her face and walked upstairs.

  ‘Moraven…’ Harry Pendleton’s voice stopped him as he approached the door of the exclusive gentleman’s club. He turned, scowling, waiting for the other man to come up to him. ‘I have been wanting to see you. I left my card at your house and messages at a dozen places. Are you avoiding me?’

  ‘Should I?’ Moraven raised his brows. ‘I’ve been out of town. Tell me, what have I done now?’

  ‘Good grief man, you do not need me to tell you! Why the hell didn’t you tell us years ago? We could have kept your secret.’

  ‘Strange as it may seem, I was acting under orders. Even you hadn’t been cleared by security. Any of you could have been the traitor that night. I wasn’t as drunk as I appeared, but I needed an excuse for my non-appearance the next day. I had other work – bloody dangerous work as it happens. I never knew someone was listening in the shadows, any more than you did – and I didn’t expect you three to turn against me.’

  ‘The evidence pointed to you. We were hotheaded fools in those days,’ Harry said. ‘I know it’s the worst word in the world – but I’m sorry, Moraven. We all are. If you can forgive the unforgivable …Susanna would like you to come and stay when you feel able. She has never thought you as black as you were painted…’

  ‘She had cause enough – after the way I behaved to her in the garden that night she was ill. I might have kissed her just because she was yours, Pendleton, but I would never have seduced her. I wasn’t the one who ruined Hazledeane’s sister…’

  ‘No, I think I knew that even before this. She lied as easily as she cried. You were her lover, though?’

  ‘Yes, but n
ot her first – not by a long way. Had I been I would have married her, though God knows that isn’t much of a bargain for any woman.’

  ‘Rubbish. Good grief, man. You’re a hero now it’s all out. The Regent is telling everyone you single-handedly saved us from another war – which might well have been the outcome if Renard’s plans had succeeded. Apparently, it would have been made to look as if it was an English plot to destabilise France and England. I understand Prinny was the next target after the King of France.’

  ‘And we should have had Bonaparte back again in no time.’

  ‘Lord above! We’ve had enough of that nonsense. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he escapes again one of these times. I dare say there are people who imagine it possible.’

  ‘Yes, I rather think there was more than one plot afoot in France. We should be safe enough for a while, though the future is never certain while he lives – but that is someone else’s worry now.’

  ‘Going to settle down and get married?’

  ‘What woman in her right mind would want me?’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s time to forgive and forget? I’m not talking just of the feud between us, Moraven – but all the other things that went on in your life years ago. Your mother and…well, I shan’t dwell on it. Not my affair. You need to forgive yourself and then you can move on – find happiness.’

  ‘The way you did?’

  ‘Yes. Susanna persuaded me not to be bitter. She made me see that it was best to forget the past – and you see she was right. We are happy and now that I understand what really happened out there, I want to be your friend. Max and Gerard feel the same. Both of them are out of town but when they see you…’

  ‘No need for any more,’ Moraven said and for the first time in weeks he was smiling broadly, the scowl gone. ‘I’m convinced I’m no longer the arch villain.’ He offered his hand. ‘Let’s begin again, shall we?’

  ‘Glad to,’ Harry replied and gripped his hand. ‘I was about to pop into the fencing club – would you care to join me?’

  ‘Why not? I’ve a couple of things to do tomorrow and then I’m off to Paris. I’m not sure how long I’ll be away – but I’d like to stay with you soon.’

  ‘Susanna will be delighted. I’ll give her the news later. Now, shall we see if either of us has learned a thing or two with the rapier?’

  Constance smiled as she saw him sitting in the sun. It was the first time he had managed to get down the stairs and out into the fresh air. Pierre had helped him, though he’d refused to be carried.

  ‘I’m much better,’ he’d told her. ‘I’ll be able to walk out with you in the street soon, Constance. We’ll get my money from the bank and then I’ll buy you a proper wedding ring.’

  She looked at the ring on her finger. It had fitted his little finger and was quite comfortable for her, but it was a signet ring not a wedding band.

  ‘I’m in no hurry, Jonathan. The ring can wait but we do need money for the market.’

  ‘I’ve given Heloise a gold fob from my watch chain to sell,’ he said. ‘It will bring enough for a day or two and then I’ll be well enough to go to the bank. They took instruction about sending for money by letter but only on condition that I go in and sign for it myself.'

  ‘You mustn’t try to do too much too soon.’

  ‘I want to get better, truly better so that I can look after you. You’ve looked after me so well and I want you to have all the things you lack, Constance.’

  ‘All I want at the moment is for you to get better.’

  ‘Give me some good rare beef,’ he said. ‘Your soups have done me good but now I want something different.’

  Constance had promised she would, but she knew that the money Heloise would get for the fob was likely to be only a fraction of its worth. If Jonathan expected the kind of food he was used to at home it would not last long and she wasn’t at all sure he could manage to visit the bank yet, even if they went in a cab.

  She had her marriage lines and she’d asked if the bank if they would accept a withdrawal if she brought in a letter but had been refused.

  ‘I am sorry, madame, but proof of marriage is not proof that you have the power to withdraw your husband’s money. A letter might be written by anyone – and his hand might be guided if he is ill.’

  Constance had held her temper and left. The bank was protecting Jonathan’s interests, except that he wasn’t well enough to visit the bank yet even though their need for money was becoming acute.

  She thought that he must be enjoying the sun, because he was sitting very still. She smiled, because it was a lovely warm day and the birds were singing, bathing in the little lily pool a little distance away and taking no notice of him. Jonathan enjoyed the beauty of nature. It was surprising how many things they shared and she had thought more than once that, if she had never met Moraven, she would have been happy to continue as his wife all her life – if he were to recover.

  ‘I was about to have some tea,’ she said as she came up to him. ‘Would you like to come in now, Jonathan – or would you rather sit here? I could bring a tray out…’

  Jonathan didn’t answer. Had he fallen asleep? She walked round to the front of the wooden bench and looked at his face. He was smiling and he looked happy but his skin had no colour. Reaching out tentatively, she touched his hand.

  ‘Jonathan…’ He was still warm to the touch but his hand slid away as she touched him and she knew that he had gone, slipped away peacefully in the sun. Tears trickled down her cheeks and her chest felt as if it had constricted. ‘Oh, Jonathan, I’m so sorry. I should have been with you. I should have been here…’

  She had left him to sit in peace while she worked in the house, but she hadn’t thought this would happen. She’d believed he was getting better – that one day he might be almost as he had been until he saved her from Renard’s bullies. He’d given his life for her and it hurt. It hurt so very much.

  She had loved him. Not in the way she loved Moraven, but as she might have loved a very dear brother. She sat down on the bench beside him, letting the tears slide down her cheeks.

  ‘You won’t be in pain now,’ she said. ‘If I could I would take you home to your father but I’m not sure how it could be done…or how much it would cost. I will go though, Jonathan. I’ll tell him how you died and how brave you were. If he wants to send for your body he can and place you with your family.’

  A feeling of peace came over her as she reached her decision. She would take Jonathan’s ring and his watch back to his father. It was the last thing she could do for him.

  She must go in now and make the arrangements. An internment in the crypt at the church would be the best thing. Jonathan’s father would find it easier to bring his coffin back that way. It might be expensive but if she had to she would sell something of the comte’s.

  She got to her feet and turned. Pierre would need to fetch Doctor Frances before they did anything more. As she started towards the house, she saw someone emerge from the back door and walk towards her and her throat caught. She gave a glad cry and started to run.

  ‘Madeline,’ she cried. ‘I am so glad to see you – so very glad. I feared you were dead. I must leave for England soon and I should have had to tell the lawyers but now you’re here – you’re back to claim all that is yours.’

  Madeline stared at her in silence for a moment. Her gown was soiled and her hair was straggling down her back in limp strands.

  ‘Are you telling me that you’re pleased to see me? I’ve been hiding for weeks, not daring to come here. I thought you had taken my identity…my clothes…I saw you wearing them and my jewels.’

  ‘Yes, I did because the comte died and I had to do something. Everyone thought I was you and it seemed best to let them think it. I was afraid that they would take what was yours. The comte had a cousin and he came here hoping that he might persuade me that I needed his help but I sent him away. I have waited for you to return.’

  A little sob escaped M
adeline. She put a trembling hand to her face. ‘I did not know what to do. I should have come sooner…’

  ‘Yes, you should. I was always your friend, my lady. I have used your things but I’ve sold nothing that was yours, though it has been hard to manage.’

  Madeline looked at her hand and saw Jonathan’s ring. ‘You are married – is he your husband? That man sitting there…’

  ‘Yes. Jonathan is dead. He was very ill and I left him to sit in the sun. When I came back…’ She wiped her cheek. ‘There is so much to tell you, Madeline, but I must send for the doctor. Doctor Frances has been caring for him all these weeks. I’m not sure how I shall pay him when I leave.’

  ‘My husband had gold hidden. Have you found it?’

  ‘Fifty francs only, which I fear I have spent.’

  Madeline laughed. ‘Oh, he has much more, believe me. Enough to cover your husband’s expenses, Constance – and anything else you may need. I must thank you for your care of my inheritance. Had you abandoned me, my husband’s cousin would have taken everything.’

  ‘I did not see why you should be cheated of what was yours.’

  ‘You know I ran away with a lover?’

  ‘I thought it might be so. He is not with you?’

  ‘Look at me – can you not see I have been living rough for weeks? Marc swore he loved me but he thought I would take my husband’s gold with me. When he saw I had nothing, even my jewels, he was angry. We quarrelled all the time and then he abandoned me. I have lived by begging and selling what little I had. If you had turned me away I should have had to sell myself.’

  ‘How could you think I would turn you from what was yours?’

  ‘I saw you with that man…an Englishman. He was living here. I thought you had taken everything for his sake.’

  Constance shook her head. ‘There is much to tell you – but it will keep. Go to your old room, Constance. Heloise will bring hot water and I shall come when everything is done here.’