Finessing the Contessa

by Wendy Soliman

  “I know you’re anxious to get your meeting with Maynard over with.” Lord Robert stood with one broad shoulder lodged against the mantelpiece. “Even so, you’d best keep him waiting. Being late will give you an advantage.”

  “Other than angering him, I don’t see how.”

  “It’s a game of one-upmanship. He’s more anxious than you realise about the information he hopes you will supply him with. I get the impression that Gravina doesn’t take kindly to being outwitted.”

  Electra nodded. “That’s certainly true.”

  “So Maynard will be on edge, and having him wait will make him more nervous than he already is.” He touched her hand when she paced past his position. “Anxiety will make him far more likely to believe the information you pass to him, simply because he wishes it to be accurate. Trust me, it will work and your brother will be perfectly safe.”

  “Very well.” Electra resumed her chair and did what she could to appear calm. “Perhaps I’ll wait another ten minutes.”

  Fifteen long minutes actually passed before he escorted her to the Forster’s barouche, driven by a solid-looking coachman, an equally well-built footman up behind. Several more Forster employees would be watching over her in the village. Lord Robert opened the carriage door and helped her into the conveyance himself.

  “Remember, should Maynard remark upon the carriage, tell him you requested it to meet your brother who’s due to arrive from Dover.”

  “Yes, I won’t forget.”

  “Have courage, contessa,” he said softly, as he closed the door. “Very soon you’ll be reunited with your brother, then we’ll see what’s to be done about Maynard.”

  What he actually meant, Electra knew, was that his brother would cross-question Vincenzo and decide if he was telling the truth. She was still under suspicion, even though the marquess was far more charitably disposed towards her since she’d successfully delivered his son. She also knew he wouldn’t allow that circumstance to cloud his judgement.

  “Let’s hope that you’re right.”

  In spite of Lord Robert’s encouragement, Electra was full of anxiety as the carriage conveyed her into the village. The driver halted just short of the draper’s shop and Electra could see that Maynard’s party was already there. Vincenzo raised his hand in greeting, but Maynard was tapping his foot and clearly had to stop himself from dashing forward when he saw the carriage arrive.

  “You’re late,” were his first words when Electra joined him.

  She ignored him, instead embracing her brother, who looked pale and anxious. “How’s your ankle?”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Vincenzo grasped her hand and sent her a beseeching look. “Think about what you’re doing, Electra. It’s not too late. Please don’t pass on stolen information, especially not on my account. No good can come of it. Thieves never prosper.” He threw Maynard a scathing look. “As this blaggard will soon discover.”

  “Shush, it’ll be all right.”

  “No, it will not.” Vincenzo removed his hat and ran a hand abstractedly through his hair. “It could cause a diplomatic incident.”

  “No.” Electra shook her head. “You exaggerate.”

  Vincenzo grasped her shoulders. “You’re too taken up with concerns for me to have thought it through properly. Who do you suppose will be the first suspect when the Forsters realise the information has leaked out? Your reputation will be ruined. Worse, you’ll not be able to return to Sicily for fear of reprisals by the government. Nor will you be able to stay in England, where the decent chess players congregate, because you will be persona non grata.”

  Electra knew she wouldn’t be able to return to Sicily anyway, but not for the reasons that her brother supposed. “Why would the Sicilian government wish me harm?”

  “If any aid offered by the British is withdrawn because of your actions—”

  “This is all very touching,” Maynard said, casting a scornful glance Vincenzo’s way. “But we’re wasting time. Your findings, if you please, contessa.”

  Vincenzo groaned when Electra sent him an apologetic glance and delved into her reticule. She withdrew one sheet of folded paper and handed it to Maynard with a disdainful toss of her head. “Here you are.”

  Maynard snatched it from her and read its contents. Electra clasped her hands together to prevent them from shaking, convinced now that Maynard would see through the ruse.

  “Is this all?” he asked.

  “Isn’t it enough?”

  “It’s very brief.”

  “I noted down the salient details. I hardly had time to copy out the report verbatim.”

  Maynard studied the paper for a considerable amount of time, causing further damage to Electra’s frazzled nerves. She was tempted to elaborate, to try and convince him that the information was accurate, but decided against it. Finally he looked up and narrowed his eyes at her. “You hadn’t better be trying to fool me,” he said.

  She shrugged. “What would be the point?”

  “I’m glad you look at it that way. The marchese will be pleased with you.”

  “The marchese can go to the devil. I want nothing more to do with him.”

  Maynard chuckled. “Perhaps not, but I doubt whether he’s finished with you.”

  Electra didn’t know what Maynard meant by that, nor did she give him the satisfaction of asking. “Come, Vincenzo,” she said imperiously. “You’re invited back to the Hall.”

  At a nod from Maynard, the man standing behind Vincenzo pushed him towards Electra. She could sense her brother wanted to argue in favour of leaving the area immediately. She implored him with her eyes not to make a fuss. She hadn’t expected Vincenzo to be the one to cast suspicion on her actions. Maynard was still mulling over the report, and while he was distracted it would be a good time to get away.

  Something about Electra’s urgency must have communicated itself to Vincenzo because he limped away from Maynard and took his sister’s arm.

  “Then let’s be gone,” he said. “Maynard, you’re despicable! You can tell your master that our association is at an end and you’ll make no more profit on the back of my herbal remedies.”

  Maynard sneered at him. “In Sicily, you’re ours. You can’t work there without our permission and well you know it.”

  “Which is precisely why I don’t intend to return.”

  “Oh, you’ll return right enough.” Maynard waved at Electra. “He ain’t done with her yet.”

  “Well, we’re done with him. There’s nothing he can do to make us return.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure, if I were you,” Maynard said with complacency.

  “Be sure of one thing.” Vincenzo released Electra’s arm and moved back to Maynard. They stood toe-to-toe but Vincenzo towered over his former partner, contempt flaring in his eyes. “If I ever catch sight of your ugly face sniffing round me or mine ever again, I’ll take pleasure in rearranging your features for you. Do we understand one another?” Without waiting for a reply, Vincenzo grasped Electra’s elbow and turned her towards the carriage. “Shall we go?”

  “Well said!” Electra wanted to kiss him. “You had the final word.”

  “He’s a snake and a charlatan,” Vincenzo said furiously. “Had you not been there, I wouldn’t just have threatened to hit him.”

  “Then I’m glad I was there.”

  As soon as they were inside the barouche, the coachman moved his team off at a brisk trot. Electra held his hand for the entire duration of the return journey to the Hall. “Are you really all right?” she asked. “Where did they keep you?”

  “Apart from my ankle, I came to no real harm. They kept me in a cellar in London somewhere. It was damp, but I barely noticed the discomfort. I was more concerned about escaping so I could make sure you were all right.”

  �
�How many of them were there?”

  “I only saw Maynard, the oaf who was with him today and a couple of other goons who never spoke a word. I didn’t know them so I think they were probably English, picked up here by Maynard to do his dirty work.” Vincenzo thumped his thigh with a clenched fist. “I feel so damned foolish, allowing myself to be taken in by Maynard.”

  “He was always Gravina’s man, but we weren’t to know that when you went into partnership with him.”

  “Well, the partnership is dissolved now.” Vincenzo scowled. “I’ll go out of business before I have any more dealings with the rogue.”

  “I’m very glad to hear it.”

  “They told me what they’d asked you to do, just to torment me. How did you—”

  “Shush.” Electra squeezed his hand. “Let me explain.” And she did, telling Vincenzo everything that had occurred between her and Lord Robert since first meeting him.

  “Ah, so the information Maynard has isn’t accurate.” Vincenzo brightened considerably. “That’s a relief.”

  “Some of it is. Lord Denby decided what I ought to write.”

  “The Forsters sound like decent people. I owe them a great debt of gratitude.”

  “He believes Gravina is in France and that Maynard will go straight to him.”

  “I suspect he’s right. I did hear them mention something about Calais on the journey down here from London.”

  “Lord Robert intends to follow Maynard there.” She went on to explain about Pallister and the dowager Lady Denby’s role. “He’s anxious to find out if anyone else they know is involved in the plot.”

  “I’d go with him if I could.” Vincenzo shook his head. “This cursed ankle.”

  “I wouldn’t allow you to go anyway,” Electra said sternly. “I’ve only just got you back. I have no intention of losing sight of you again.”

  “I agree we must stick together but we can’t stay here, Electra. The lady of the house has just had a baby, you say, and we’re not family. Besides, I have no clothes with me. Nothing but what I stand up in.”

  “No, we’ll have to return to London, and then decide what we’re going to do with ourselves.”

  Vincenzo examined her face in the dim interior of the carriage. “You do realise that it won’t be safe to go home? Will that bother you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “There’s nothing there for me now, other than painful memories.”

  “You want us to remain in England and for me to work from here?”

  “It’s certainly worth considering.”

  “Then I’ll think about it, for you.” Vincenzo blinked when they entered the gates to the Hall’s park. “I say, this is rather splendid.”

  “Wait until you see the house.”

  * * *

  Rob was in Denby to witness Electra’s second meeting with Maynard, ready with his men to intervene if anything looked the slightest bit untoward. Maynard examined Electra’s written summation of Hal’s report for such a long time that Rob became worried he’d seen through the deception. He clenched his fists, feeling impotent. If Maynard did realise he was being duped, there was no telling what retaliatory action he might take.

  After what seemed like an age, Maynard looked up, inclined his head towards Electra and said something to her. Rob released a slow breath and relaxed his hold on the hilt of his dagger. Maynard’s cohort pushed Electra’s brother roughly in her direction, causing Vincenzo to stumble and almost lose his footing. The two rogues then took off without a backward glance. They made no attempt to disguise the direction they took, but Rob didn’t make the mistake of assuming they were acting alone. Presumably there were others with them, watching Vincenzo to see if he attempted to follow them.

  Rob watched until brother and sister were safely installed in Hal’s carriage and Maynard had completely left the scene. He then rode behind the vehicle, two grooms accompanying him. When the carriage turned into the Hall’s gates, he cantered ahead and was at the front door to greet Electra and Vincenzo when their conveyance reached the steps.

  He helped Electra alight and then turned his attention to Vincenzo, who appraised him warily. He was a handsome man of above average height. He sported a shock of thick black hair and a day’s growth of beard, shared his sister’s colouring and had intelligent dark eyes. No one seeing them together could doubt that they were related. Electra made the introduction and the two men shook hands.

  “I’m most exceedingly obliged to you, Lord Robert, for taking such good care of my sister.”

  “It’s been entirely my pleasure, Falzone.”

  They entered the vestibule and Potter relieved the gentlemen of their outdoor garments. A maid stepped forward to provide the same service for Electra.

  “Has a chamber been prepared for Mr. Falzone, Potter?”

  “It has, my lord.”

  “Some tea in the morning room, if you please.”

  “At once, my lord.”

  Hal and Gabe were already in that room. “I understand I’m to congratulate you, Lord Denby,” Vincenzo said as soon as they’d been introduced.

  It amused Rob to see Hal trying and failing to suppress a proud smile.

  “Thank you, Falzone. I’m exceedingly grateful to your sister. She was a great help to my wife when the doctor failed to get here on time.”

  “I’m sure she was glad to help. I trust mother and infant thrive?”

  “Indeed they do.” Hal became serious. “You’ve had a bad time of it, Falzone.”

  Rob watched the man carefully, conscious of Hal doing the same thing. Falzone appeared to be furious about the way he’d been treated. Rob was already convinced he really had been held against his will but until Hal was also satisfied, the cloud hanging over Electra’s actions would remain.

  “If there weren’t ladies present, I’d tell you precisely what I think of those blaggards,” Falzone said, clenching his fists, his expression darkening. “Of all the cowardly scoundrels it’s been my misfortune to meet—”

  “Where were you held?” Hal asked.

  “In a cellar in London. Maynard picked me up in a carriage since we had a meeting with a gentleman supposedly interested in my remedies. The next thing I knew, I was being bundled into that damned cellar.” He ground his jaw. “They caught me unawares, otherwise I never would have gone without raising merry hell.”

  “You obviously did fight with them,” Hal said evenly, giving Rob no indication as to the true nature of his thoughts.

  “Like the devil,” he said with a rueful smile. “Hence the bruises.”

  “When you met the contessa in the street, could you not have raised the alarm then?” Hal asked.

  “Don’t you think I would have done so in a heartbeat?” Falzone scowled. “What do you take me for?”

  “No offence intended,” Hal said calmly. “But the question needed to be asked.”

  “Of course.” Falzone inclined his head. “Unfortunately Maynard’s thug was holding a dagger against my side. I still might have taken my chances but Maynard told me Electra would be hurt if I didn’t cooperate.” He shuddered. “I didn’t need him to spell it out for me.”

  Hal exchanged a glance with Rob. “You feared for your sister’s safety.”

  “Absolutely, otherwise—”

  “Are you aware that someone removed clothing from your lodgings?” Hal asked.

  “Yes, when I...” He glanced at his sister’s anxious face and obviously amended what he’d intended to say. “My clothing was dirty and torn. If I was to pass unnoticed on a London street, I needed to look more presentable. Maynard gave someone my key and sent them to collect my things.”

  When Hal nodded, apparently satisfied, Rob released the breath he’d been holding.

  “We’ve just received a report from one of
the crew that Maynard took a hired carriage the moment he left you, contessa,” Hal said. “He was heard telling the coachman to make for Dover without delay.”

  “Then we were right,” Rob said. “I’ll give orders for The Celandine to be made ready for sea and we’ll leave for France at first light. If he catches the packet that leaves Dover on the morning tide it will take him to Calais, but we can’t be sure that’s his final destination. However, The Celandine will get there faster so I shall be ready to follow wherever he goes.”

  “May I come with you, Lord Robert?” Electra asked.

  “No,” Rob and Hal said together.

  “Absolutely not,” Falzone said, adding a stern voice to the chorus of male disapproval.

  “But I might recognise some of the people Maynard meets with.”

  “The answer is still no,” Rob said adamantly. “I won’t place you in danger.”

  “It seems rather unfair. I created this problem and yet you won’t allow me to help fix it.”

  “You could well recognise Maynard’s associates, but you yourself might be recognised also, which would only make matters worse.”

  “Even so I could be of some help. I know I could.”

  Potter entered the room and stopped in front of Electra, proffering a silver salver. “This just arrived by express, my lady.”

  “Thank you, Potter.”

  Electra frowned as she took the letter from Potter and broke the seal. “It’s from France,” she said. “It’s been forwarded from my London lodgings.”

  The moment her eyes alighted on the signature, all colour drained from her face, she swayed in her chair and an anguished cry echoed round the room.

  “What evil game is he playing now?” she asked no one in particular.

  A fine tremor ran through her body and she appeared on the point of collapse. Since the letter had originated in France, Rob assumed it was from Gravina. Electra’s reaction confirmed it, but what had he put in that letter to affect her so profoundly?

  “What is it?” asked Rob and Falzone together.

  “It’s a letter from the grave,” she said in a hollow tone, staring dazedly straight ahead. “From Constanza.”